Authors: Tiffany Green
Nicholas clenched his fists, his heart freezing to a block of ice. As soon as they returned, he would end the so-called arrangement and would procure a special license. Julian be damned. Megan would be his bride.
"Please, accept this token of my affection and make me the happiest man alive. Marry me."
Megan turned from examining a book and could only gape as the Duke of Huntington reached for her hand and slipped the ring onto her finger. This was the reason he had asked her to accompany him to the library? She stared at him for several seconds, then lowered her gaze to the beautiful sapphire and diamond ring. Marry Huntington? Her mind whirled with images of Nicholas and what could have been. But he didn't want her. He had never wanted her.
"I knew you would be speechless, Megan, but I didn't think it would last this long.” He shuffled from one foot to the other.
She snapped her head up. “I'm sorry, Your Grace..."
"Daniel,” he insisted, “and don't apologize, just say yes. Then we can marry when I return from Scotland."
"That's wonderful news, congratulations. I know the two of you will be very happy together,” Julian said, walking toward them with a large, satisfied smile.
Just as she opened her mouth to inform her brother that she hadn't yet agreed to Daniel's proposal, the two men began discussing the wedding. And before she realized it, they were moving for the door. How dare they treat her this way? She could make her own decisions, especially one as significant as marriage.
Daniel must have sensed she hadn't joined them. He stopped and turned. “Coming, darling?” he asked, stretching out his hand.
Megan bit her lip until a salty, metallic taste filled her mouth. She cut her eyes to her brother and observed his obvious delight. This was her chance to decline Daniel's marriage offer. Thoughts of Nicholas raced through her mind again.
Why, Nicholas? Why couldn't you have loved me?
The knot of dread that had been in her stomach for weeks now rose up her throat, threatening to spill out. She had to face the fact that Nicholas would not be a part of her future.
She looked back at Daniel and swallowed her tears. Nicholas no longer wanted her. His absence and the way he avoided her made that abundantly clear. She must accept that and move on. Slowly, she nodded and reached for his hand.
When they reached Daniel's study, he sat behind the large mahogany desk. “I will announce the impending nuptials tonight at dinner. Tomorrow, however, I must leave for Scotland to minister to some pressing business."
Julian shifted in his chair. “How long will you be gone?"
A flicker of regret crossed Daniel's features. He kept his eyes on her, even though he answered her brother. “I'm not entirely certain. But I assure you, it won't be overlong."
"Then I would like to give you this for the journey,” Julian said as he pulled a palm-sized object from his pocket and handed it to Daniel.
She watched Daniel take her tiny portrait and smile as he moved his finger over the painted surface. He looked back at her brother. “Thank you, Julian. I shall always cherish this,” His eyes skidded over to her, “as I will your sister."
A finger of disquiet ran along her spine. Helplessness engulfed her. She could barely breathe.
Rising from his chair, Daniel rounded the desk. He helped her to her feet. “I'm sorry to be leaving you so soon, darling, but I cannot delay this journey."
She had to squeeze words from her constricted throat. “I understand, Daniel.” Although she liked him very much, she would never love him with the passionate intensity she had for Nicholas.
She didn't miss Daniel's smile when she called him by his given name for the first time. She bit her lip when he gathered her close. Her breath caught as he lowered his head. Oh no, he was going to kiss her! Slowly, his lips settled over hers. They lingered, then they were gone. She kept her eyes closed for several seconds so Daniel wouldn't read the disappointment in them. She'd felt nothing.
She opened her eyes. Daniel's brows rose, clearly expecting her to have been blown away by the kiss. She forced her lips to curve up, even though that small action nearly killed her, and ignored her brother, who sported a well-pleased grin.
What had she just gotten herself into?
Later at dinner, Megan forced down a few bites of food. Daniel's grandmother and brother had arrived earlier, and she wondered what their reaction would be to the betrothal. She knew that Victoria and Evie would be ecstatic, but she couldn't be sure of anyone else. She also thought of Nicholas's reaction. No doubt he would feel relief.
Sadness enveloped her. She moved the asparagus around her plate with her fork, her stomach rebelling at the idea of any more food. She pressed her eyes shut. Why couldn't she just forget about Nicholas? Was she doomed to spend the rest of her life thinking ‘if only?'
When the men joined the women in the drawing room after their ritualistic glass of port, Daniel walked directly to her side. “I have an announcement,” he said to the room.
Her stomach knotted and she swallowed hard. Everyone fell silent.
Daniel continued. “As everyone is aware, I am leaving tomorrow for Scotland. But what you don't know is that I wanted...no, I needed to have a certain beautiful woman waiting for me upon my return. Otherwise, there is no doubt she will be taken from me. So, it is my extreme pleasure to announce to all of you that Lady Megan Westland has agreed to become my wife."
The room's quietness lasted about two seconds before everyone began talking at once. Congratulations and well wishes were rained on them. Megan's throat closed up. She wanted to run from the room, from the estate, and never look back. She closed her eyes. She wanted to run to Nicholas.
"You couldn't have made a finer choice, Daniel,” she heard his grandmother say. “Have you decided when you shall wed?"
He grinned. “I should hope very quickly after my return, Grandmother."
Megan almost choked.
"My goodness, Daniel, that gives me—I mean us,” his grandmother corrected, “very little time to arrange things. Most engagements last a year—"
"Absolutely not,” he interrupted. “Three months."
The bottom of Megan's stomach fell away. Three months?
"That will not do,” the dowager sputtered. “Planning a wedding takes a lot of time.” She raised her brows. “Lady Megan deserves the best, does she not?"
Daniel sighed and nodded. “Indeed. Six months."
"Late November?” his grandmother croaked. “Why, that simply isn't done."
"I'm sure you will think of something,” he indicated, leading his grandmother to the sofa.
The numbness Megan had been feeling since Daniel's proposal started to lift a bit. She gripped her hands together before her. What had she done?
She turned and found Victoria and Evie standing before her with hands on hips. “All right, Megan. Why didn't you tell us?” Evie demanded.
She shifted her gaze to Daniel. He was laughing at something her brother was saying. “Because I wasn't aware of it, either,” she replied softly. Why couldn't things have been different? Why couldn't Nicholas have loved her just a little? For a while, she'd thought it possible. His eyes would turn soft and sparkly as he looked at her. No one had ever looked at her like that. Had it all been an illusion? Had Nicholas been acting, as Julian suggested, for revenge? Megan had no answers. But she did know that her love for Nicholas had been true and real. And would be there forever.
"How are you feeling, Mother?"
"Quite a lot better, Nicholas.” She set her teacup on the table before them.
"You should have stayed with me—"
"And given you influenza?” Genny shook her head. “I think not. A terrible malady, that. Besides, I was quite comfortable staying with Charles."
His young uncle hadn't come with his mother. He glanced around his drawing room. “Where is Charles, by the way? I haven't seen him in some time."
"Oh,” she replied with a wave of her hand, “he went hawking with some friends. I am not certain when he'll return. What of Megan, darling, any progress?” she asked, then sniffed a handkerchief doused in camphor oil.
"Julian and I have made an arrangement of sorts,” he replied.
Her brows furrowed and she lowered the scented fabric. “What arrangement?"
He sighed. “I must not see or speak to Megan until she decides to wed. And if I am the one she chooses, Julian will not oppose the union."
"Well, that's wonderful, Nicholas. I'll speak to her right away about this, you shan't have to—"
"No, Mother, there's more.” He shook his head. “Julian also stipulated that Megan can know nothing of this agreement."
"Oh, dear. She may think that you are staying away by choice."
The drawing room doors burst open. Jeremy hurried inside ahead of the flustered butler with a newspaper clutched in his fist. “Have you seen this? No, you haven't, or you wouldn't be sitting there so bloody calmly."
Nicholas waved his angry butler away and rose from the sofa. “Sorry, Mother. Jeremy, what in God's name are you referring to?"
Jeremy turned, the angry lines easing from his face. “Pray, forgive me, Your Grace. I did not see you there.” He shoved the paper into Nicholas's hands.
"What is this?” Nicholas asked. He read the headline and his blood boiled. Megan would wed Huntington?
"Darling, what is it?” His mother's voice sounded far away.
A red haze filled his vision. Someone was speaking to him, but the blood pounding in his ears made it difficult to hear. He could only focus on getting his hands around Julian Westland's bloody neck. “I'm going to kill him!” he roared as he spun around and bolted from the room.
"My lady, come quick,” Lucy said on the other side of her bedroom door.
Megan frowned at the closed door. She set aside her volume of Catullus's poetry and rose from the chair in her sitting room. Calmly, she opened the door. If it was another man threatening suicide because she hadn't agreed to marry him...
Julian's furious voice rang through the house. She gasped and ran down the stairs.
Wentworth bowed and opened the drawing room door, as if he'd been expecting her.
Her heart took a crazy leap at the sight of him standing there. Nicholas. She glanced at her brother and grew worried. The two stood face to face with their fists balled and ready to strike.
As Julian moved forward, she flew between them. Her blood pounded hard in her ears. She stood so close to Nicholas, she could feel the heat of his body. She yearned to step into his arms. Had he come to see her? “What are you doing?” she demanded, looking from one wrathful face to the other.
"Leave, Claremont, now,” her brother said.
"Not until I have some answers concerning this.” Nicholas threw a crumpled newspaper down. “Damn you, Julian, you had no right.” Then his gaze shifted to her. Her heart surged up in her throat. He looked flushed with anguish. “How could you do this, Meg? Why didn't you choose me?” His voice grew hoarse, full of pain. Then he went still. “Or did you choose me and your brother did not honor our agreement?” He jerked his head up and nailed Julian with a glare.
Confusion boiled within her. “What agreement?"
A muscle ticked in Nicholas's cheek as he kept his eyes on her brother. “Tell her,” he demanded.
She turned to her brother and caught the unease in his eyes. “Julian?"
He heaved a sigh. “Moppet—"
"Don't you dare call me that, Julian!” She poked a finger into his chest. “Tell me everything. Now!"
With a sigh, he nodded at Nicholas. “He was not to see or speak to you until you selected a husband. And I would not oppose your decision."
She kept her eyes locked on her brother. “Even if I had named Nicholas?"
"Yes,” he said.
She wanted to kill Julian.
"Your brother also insisted that you were to know nothing of this agreement,” Nicholas added.
A sick knot of despair rose up from the depths of her stomach. She started to tremble. Her hands fell limply to her sides. “Are you telling me,” She turned to Nicholas, “that the only reason you've been ignoring me is because of a pact you made with Julian?"
His brows were drawn and his eyes filled with pain. He lifted his hand to touch her but halted and lowered his arm.
"Yes, love."
Her eyes prickled as she turned to her brother. “I cannot believe you did this."
"Megan, I did it for you—"
"No, Julian. You did it for you.” Oh, God, she had been so wrong about everything. Nicholas. Her brother. Everything. She trembled in earnest now.
Nicholas moved closer. He reached out as if to steady her, but didn't touch her. “Are you all right, Megan?"
She glanced up, her vision swimming. “You were trying to find a way for us to marry?"
"Yes, my little nymph."
A tear skidded down her cheek. “I-I can't. I'm betrothed to another,” she whispered, fighting for control.
"The betrothal can be broken, my love.” He wiped the tears from her cheeks. His hand trembled as his fingertips connected with her warm, soft skin. “Will be broken."
She closed her eyes. He could touch her forever. “How?"
He hesitated, his hand sliding away. “It will be difficult for you,” he warned.
"What is it?” she demanded, determined to do anything for the man she loved.
"You will probably have to inform Huntington that you're no longer a virgin."
"That is a filthy lie, Claremont. How dare you besmirch my sister's good name?” Julian bellowed. Fury distorted his face and his eyes sparked malice.
Megan rushed to her brother and flattened her palms against his chest.
He looked down at her. “Tell me that wasn't the truth,” he pleaded.
Swallowing hard, she sent up a silent prayer. “It is,” she said, keeping her palms firmly in place.
He shook with anger, his heartbeat thundering under her hands.
Julian's head snapped up. His lips twisted in wrath. “You bastard, I swear I am going to kill you."
"What in the hell is going on here?” a familiar voice boomed from the doorway.
Megan turned. Her parents stood with Nicholas's mother just inside the doorway. “Father!” she sobbed and ran into his arms.