Authors: L. L. Bartlett,Kelly McClymer,Shirley Hailstock,C. B. Pratt
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Short Stories & Anthologies, #Anthologies, #Teen & Young Adult, #Anthologies & Literature Collections, #Contemporary Fiction, #Genre Fiction
‶
So you think you have won your
battle?″ His anger was daunting.
‶
I told you I have no intention
of being compromised.″
Miranda flushed. He must hold the incident five
years ago against her, despite his kindness then.
‶
I only wish to
convince you to intercede with the Earl of Connaught to win Emily back for
Valentine. They are meant for each other.″
‶
So you said. I can only wonder
how far you are inclined to go to convince me.″ His gaze traveled her
length again. Miranda recognized the look she had endured in her short sojourn
on the marriage mart. But never once from Simon Watterly. A painful twist in
her chest made her short of breath.
‶
I will do anything — ″
His expression darkened and she broke off in confusion.
He smiled his wonderful smile again, and
Miranda did not hear his words for the rush of her heartbeat in her ears.
‶
I
beg your pardon?″ she asked.
‶
I said,″ he repeated
slowly, as if for a daft child,
‶
though the idea of spending the
night with the notorious Miss Fenster intrigues me, I must decline.″
Without a further word, he turned and started across the field.
‶
I would suggest that you stop
following me, Miss Fenster, or you will find yourself in the awkward position
of being forced to explain yourself to the Camberleys. I hardly think
you′d like a scandal attached to your name after all this time.″
A light rain had begun to fall, a gentle
misting. Miranda scrambled to keep up with his long stride as she stared
angrily at his broad-shouldered back.
‶
I care very little what those
shallow, hypocritical – ″ she broke off, surprised by the painful wave of
hurt that engulfed her at the injustice that she could be ruined because some
man had tried – unsuccessfully – to take advantage of her friendship. All
because she was a woman – held to a higher standard, yet not believed competent
to defend herself.
He turned toward her so abruptly that she
nearly ran into him. In the half darkness, she could feel his fury radiating
toward her.
‶
I
would not have expected this of you, Miss Fenster. I suppose it is to your
credit that you are naively loyal to your brother. I believe I can find it in
myself to forget this lapse if you take yourself home immediately.″
Miranda found a tendril of comfort in his
words. He had thought her actions honorable – perhaps even justified? No. He
had labeled her naïve. She fought the urge to tumble him to the ground again
and pin him there until she′d told him the full story and wiped the
smugness from his expression. With difficulty, she held herself in check. As
much as she longed for him to look at her and see that she was as competent –
and as flawed – as any man, she knew that his respect for her was not her
current battle.
It was Valentine′s future she needed to
fight for now. And here, with the light rain pattering onto her face, and the
darkness soft around them, was her only chance.
Her tightly reined anger made her bold. She
took his hands in her own and stepped close enough to look up into his eyes.
‶
I
told you I don′t give a fig for my own reputation. But you have crushed
Valentine – he and Emily were to marry and you have torn them apart. Do you
realize what your actions mean to my brother? To my whole family?″
The frustrating man merely stared impassively
down at her as she spoke.
Driven to desperation, Miranda blurted out,
‶
Valentine
and I are grown, but we have five sisters to bring out.″
His voice was hard as he removed his hands from
her grip and stepped back to bring distance between them.
‶
Your
brother knew the risk when he attempted to elope with the Earl of
Connaught′s daughter. If he wanted a dowry so badly, he should have
offered for one of the merchant′s daughters. They are always glad of a
man with a title, even the title of baron.″
Miranda did not want to admit that such had
been Valentine′s intent when he had first gone looking for a bride – to
find one with a large, liquid dowry.
‶
Emily is the only woman for
him. He has known it since he first spied her on the dance floor – just as
Prince Charming recognized Cinder Ella as his one true love.″
‶
He′d best get over it.
Her father has set his sights on a marquess or better for his son-in-law, and a
false prince, charming or not, will not do.″ A smile played at his lips,
which was quite infuriating.
‶
And if your brother has five more like you to bring
out, he′ll need all the ready he can marry.″
Miranda stiffened in protest.
‶
My
sisters are nothing like me. And Valentine is no false prince.″ Blindly,
she turned and walked away from him. Tears burned in her eyes and she let them
fall. He was some distance away and it was dark. Another failure to add to her
long list. It was her fault her sisters might never marry well, her fault that
the investments she had made in Valentine′s absence had nearly beggared
them. Though she had hopes, they had not yet paid out enough to make Valentine
a
‶
catch″
on the marriage market. Given her luck, they might never do so.
The tears obscured the rabbit hole until she
was upon it and Miranda fell with a pained cry. Another failure. She pulled off
her boot to examine her injury. Her insides twisted in utter humiliation at the
sound of bootsteps approaching on the wet grass. He was beside her in moments,
kneeling down, his fingers quick and sure as he examined her twisted ankle.
‶
You were heading in the wrong
direction, Miss Fenster,″ he said. His gaze seemed focused on her as if
able to penetrate the cover of darkness and rain. For a moment she feared he
saw her tears.
Thankfully the rain came down harder at that
moment. She wiped the drops on her face.
‶
Don′t allow your pride to
force you to walk in this rain. Stay at the cottage, where it is warm and dry.
I will trouble you no further.″
What she would do about Valentine′s
broken heart was another matter altogether. Miranda rose, holding back a gasp
at the pain in her ankle. It wasn′t broken; it would get her back home.
‶
I′m
sorry, Your Grace, I cannot offer you shelter at Anderlin… Valentine…″
He smiled grimly.
‶
You will take a
chill.″ He whipped his short cloak from his shoulders and slung it around
hers before she could protest. Distracted by the long-ago memory of her mother
draping her lace shawl in the same manner, Miranda fought back more tears,
unable to speak. As he reached for her again, she realized that he meant to lift
her into his arms.
She warded him away with her hands, stumbling
only a little at the sharp pain in her ankle.
‶
I am perfectly able, Your
Grace.″
‶
No doubt,″ he answered,
sweeping her up so that her cheek was pressed against the damp linen of his
shirt. She realized that she had been chilled before, only because she was now
warmly nestled against his chest.
‶
You have no need to do this,
Your Grace,″ she protested, a needle of humiliation plying through her.
He ignored her words as if she had not spoken and began walking purposefully
toward the cottage.
She settled back, surprised at how easy she
found it to relax against him, wrapped in the cloak that smelled of sandalwood
– of him. She was aware that he did not share her comfort. His every movement
indicated a great deal of tension. Hope sprang anew that this twist of fate
might allow her to reach the Simon Watterly of old and convince him to help
Valentine. But first, she must lay his primary concern at rest.
‶
I
will not risk compromising you, I promise. Anderlin is not far. I have walked
it in the rain before; I will again.″
He did not answer.
The rain grew heavy and Miranda admired how
little note he took of the water that gathered in his thick honey-colored eyebrows
and run in rivulets down his lean cheeks. The rain had darkened his blond hair
and curls had sprung out on the back of his neck. She twisted in his arms until
she brought her head level with his and drew the cloak so that it would protect
him from the worst of the rain.
Though she did not feel in the least penitent,
she knew he would expect an apology. In her experience, men did not give
apologies, they demanded them, deserved or not. Best to give it now, and wait
until they were dry and warm again before she renewed the campaign to get
Valentine and Emily wed.
‶
I′m sorry that I did not accept your refusal
at the first. I′m afraid one of my many faults is an inability to
understand when a battle is lost I would not blame you if you chose to scold me.″
He stopped, oblivious to the rain, and turned
his head until their eyes met. His grip tightened.
‶
Is that all you
think I should do? Scold you?″ His voice was soft and strained.
Miranda became abruptly aware that his fingers
were touching the edge of her breast. She was grateful for the darkness that
hid the scarlet of her blush, and shadowed the expression in his eyes as he
stared down at her.
After he resumed walking once more, there was a
long silence between them. Miranda silently contemplated what his words meant.
She could not dredge up within herself any mistrust of this man. He had behaved
too well in the past and his reputation was impeccable, though his years away
had obviously hardened his heart against lovers. And he had secrets dark enough
that he would ride to a ramshackle hunting cottage before he dared pull certain
items from his leather pouch and examine them.
She would not chide him for the tightness of
his grip. Really, how could he support her otherwise? And if she had mended her
stays weeks ago, she would likely have been completely unaware that two of his
fingers pressed against the far side of her breast.
‶
I suppose I should be grateful
that no one shall ever know of this. My sisters do not need for me to create a
scandal before they come out. And it certainly could not help Valentine′s
cause.″ She thought of Valentine, sitting listless and mute in their father′s
chair before the fire. She had had to climb through the study window to see
him, for all the good it had done her.
Miranda closed her eyes as sadness swept over
her.
‶
He said that you were right,
and he should never have overreached himself with Emily in the first
place.″
‶
Perhaps he is not as foolish as
I had thought. I will speak to him— ″
His words dispelled Miranda′s growing
sense of hope. Knowing her impertinence, but anxious that he heed her, she put
her hand to his cheek. The rasp of stubble against her fingers startled her.
‶
He
has been badly hurt. Do not humiliate him further by speaking to him as if he
were an errant lad in need of guidance. ″
He turned his head so that his lips brushed her
fingers as he spoke.
‶
I take your point, Miss Fenster.″
Miranda let her hand drop away from his face.
But the intimacy of being in his arms and
jolting comfortably against him at every step could not be prevented.
‶
Valentine
must never know that I tried to intercede on his behalf.″
‶
It does not speak well of you
that you would deceive him.″
Stung by the censure in his words, she said,
‶
Perhaps
someday, when Emily joins our family, I shall tell them both.″
‶
Then you believe your brother
will not give up his hopes so easily?″
‶
Wouldn′t you search for
your Cinder Ella, Your Grace, if you had once met her at a ball and wanted no
one else to be your wife?″ He stumbled slightly, and her arms tightened
around his neck in alarm.
After a silence so long that she realized he
would not answer her, she said,
‶
No. Valentine will not give up
so easily.″ Remembering her brother′s slumped figure, Miranda
wondered if she spoke the truth.
‶
I do understand that you only
did what you thought was best for Emily. I will be happy to act as though this
meeting between us never occurred.″
They reached the cottage as she spoke. He
stooped slightly to enter the doorway, and his arms tightened around Miranda.
His breath against her damp neck made her shiver.
‶
And what if I am
not?″
Simon stirred the fire, his back to Miranda. It
amazed him that he had not yet wrung her slender neck. So she thought he could
dismiss this gross invasion of his privacy? If she had intruded any later, the
damning papers in his pouch would have been laid out on the table. She could
not know how he had changed if she thought he would not seek compensation for
the way she had turned his life upside down this night.
Chapter 2
He had believed his infatuation with her long
dead, until today. Holding her in his arms, the feel of the rounded underside
of her breast against his fingers, and hearing her innocently questioning
whether he would play Prince Charming and pursue his Cinder Ella had done more
than rekindle those feelings. He was ablaze with a desire so strong it was
driving him mad. Why else would he be considering seducing her?
Suddenly, all he could think of was the fact
that, in other circumstances, she would now be his wife. If that were so, he
would not have to play with the fire and keep his eyes turned away from her or
risk exposing the heat of his desire to hold her, to kiss her, to make love to
her. For a moment, he regretted that he had never managed to turn himself into
a devil, despite his efforts. For a devil would have no qualms in seducing Miss
Fenster. But the old duke′s training was too firmly branded into his
heart, despite its falsity.
He sighed into the fire, bringing it further to
life.
But he, Simon-the-no-longer-saintly, had more
than qualms. He had good reason not to marry and he′d not risk getting
Miranda with child and bringing a new bastard into the world. Somehow though,
the good reasons didn′t seem good enough tonight. Fate had literally
dropped this woman into his arms. And he was damned tired of the cruel jokes
Fate had been playing on him.
How many of his men had died in India, fighting
the barbaric practices of suttee and the cruel murderous thugees who struck
without warning? But not Simon. He had shrugged at danger, had thrown himself
into the midst of any situation without a thought to watching his back. And
still, he survived. But he intended to cheat Fate of any satisfaction for
leaving the bastard duke alive. And he would do so without breaking the promise
he had made his father — no, the old duke. The newest duke would soon be dead,
replaced by a true-blooded heir. And Simon Watterly would exist no more. He
would take another name, another life — and never would he take a wife.
Of a sudden the wind whipped up, wailing past
the cottage. Simon shivered at the sound, remembering how he had stood
motionless, surrounded by murderous thugees, daring Fate to take him then and
there.
The thunder of gunfire and the screams of the
dying men had sounded very much like the laughter of the gods, and he had not
died.
And now he was here, in a one-room cottage with
Miranda only a few feet away. She had been in his arms, had touched his cheek
with her gentle hand. He wanted to believe that she was truthful when she
assured him she was not trying to compromise him into marriage. He had thought
her entirely honest five years ago.
But of course, that was before he had learned
that Fate was not done playing with him. Since he had been home, acting as the
Duke of Kerstone until he could install a true-blooded heir, at least a dozen
or so young
‶
innocents″
had thrown themselves at his head in some most ingenious schemes, no doubt
configured by their ambitious families. He had found them in his bed, in his
carriage, half-dressed in the garden, and fully-nude in the library.
He had extracted himself from all the
situations cleanly — even the miss in his bed. She had been the most
innocent-looking of all of them, and he′d paid off her papa before she
had even finished dressing.
Was Miranda like them? Unable to resist, he
glanced over his shoulder. If he had any doubt at all that this
innocent-seeming young woman was wearing no stays, the sight of her cheerfully
slicing fruit and cheese in the lamplight in her damp dress answered
definitively that she was not.
With a hope of dimming the smile on her face
that drew the tension in his belly to a sharp point, he said,
‶
Your
brother would not approve your being alone with me.″
Her answer was calm, but her smile actually
widened.
‶
Valentine
does sometimes worry overmuch about my judgment, but I assure you it is sound
enough to know that I am safe with you.″
He checked his impulse to pivot and face her,
instead turning his gaze back to the flames.
‶
If you believe so, you are a
fool.″
There was a momentary silence, and he pictured
her imagining herself seduced and abandoned, until she dispelled that notion,
her voice ripe with amusement.
‶
I felt certain that I could trust a man who risked
his life to pull one of the men in his command away from a suttee fire in which
he had been thrown — or who saved a wounded man from death at the hands of
thugees, using his own body as a shield.″ Her voice softened, all traces
of amusement gone.
‶
Or one who dared scandal by helping a foolish young
lady escape misfortune with her reputation intact. ″
Simon was taken aback. How on earth had this
sheltered miss heard such tales, true as they were? Valentine′s judgment
must be as sorely lacking as his sister′s.
‶
A man can be brave in battle
and craven in —″ he searched for a delicate way to state his meaning and
then decided that Miss Fenster could do well with a little shock —
‶
lust.″
‶
Not you, Your Grace,″ she
demurred, forcing him to turn away from the dancing flames to stare at her. Was
the girl completely daft or supremely crafty?
Was it possible she didn′t understand
what could happen to her, even after Grimthorpe′s assault?
‶
Let
me make it quite clear to you that, even if it were public knowledge about our
ill-spent evening, I could walk away from you with only a blot that would
quickly fade. Your reputation, however, would be ruined forever.″
‶
You needn′t tell
me.″ Her hands stilled for a moment. The tight line of her lips softened
suddenly as she smiled with a shyness that was absurd given their present
situation.
‶
I
was never able to thank you for seconding Valentine in the duel.″
The look in her eyes was even more dangerous
than that of a young woman determined to make herself his wife. He had seen
such a gaze before, in the eyes of his youngest, most untried men. Dear God,
the woman had a case of the hero-worships for him.
He half rose from his crouch at the fire to
protest, but she lifted the paring knife from the cheese wedge she was slicing
and waved him to silence.
‶
Valentine told me all about it, you know, even
though Mama strictly forbade him.″
She lowered her eyes and sliced into the
cheese.
‶
It was to be my punishment — to
hear nothing more of London. As if I cared.″ She pressed her lips
together, silencing herself as she took an apple and began slicing it, wielding
the knife with a stroke that cleaved the fruit cleanly into halves, then
quarters, then eighths.
He was shocked.
‶
Surely you had another chance
at a Season? Your reputation remained unmarked. Your parents must have known
you′d grow sensible enough for a second try?″
‶
I don′t know. They never
said any such thing before they died.″ With a quick shake of her head she
added,
‶
Then,
of course, there was no possibility of a Season. I had my sisters to see to,
and Valentine was too far away to be of use.″
‶
Surely you were not left to
yourself to provide for the family? Had you no uncle to step in?″ Once
again, Simon wondered at Valentine′s lack of responsibility, to leave a
young woman in charge of a badly out-of-pocket household.
Her chin lifted and her gaze met his, although
her face was flushed with color.
‶
I am quite capable, Your Grace.
Valentine never doubted my abilities to attend to things while he was
away.″
‶
I′m surprised you
didn′t set your cap for a wealthy spouse, as he did.″
She shuddered.
‶
Quite honestly, I was
determined to never marry.″
He nearly laughed aloud at the candor he
remembered so well from five years ago, but the subdued panic on her face
reminded him, suddenly, of the expressions of young soldiers who had not yet
gone into battle as they listened to their more experienced comrades trade
stories.
‶
Indeed?″
‶
Husbands are as bad as fathers.
They believe they have the right to decide how a woman will live her life — and
to beat her if she will not comply.″
There was scorn in her voice. For the first
time, Simon was certain that she had not set out to compromise him. His
curiosity rose.
‶
Perhaps
you should have conveyed that thought to Emily. She might not have consented to
elope with your brother, then.″
Her chin lifted.
‶
Valentine is different. He is
in love.″
‶
With a well-dowered woman,
conveniently.″
‶
With Emily. And he would love
her, dowry or no.″
‶
Then he will need to adjust his
expectations, and love her from afar, for he will never have her.″
‶
Does that not break your heart?
That anyone must love from afar when both parties wish the match? It seems so
cruel.″ Her voice was low, and should not have squeezed the breath from
his lungs as it did. Her gaze met his directly.
‶
Can you not intercede? Convince
your uncle of what a fine man Valentine is? He is, I promise you.″
Simon admired her loyalty, though he wished she
didn′t have the tenacity of a dog with a meaty bone. And how had she
turned their conversation from her own danger to the tricky matter of broken
hearts and star-crossed lovers?
‶
Once he makes up his mind, he
never unmakes it.″
She sighed.
‶
Yes. That′s what Emily
said when she convinced Valentine to run for the border.″
Simon laughed softly.
‶
The little minx.
And I always thought her so responsible — for a woman.″
Her eyes flashed with momentary indignation,
quickly controlled.
‶
She wanted to help Valentine realize his dreams.
They talked of what use they would have for her inheritance — Anderlin is in
sore need of repair, and they wanted to invest in the West Indies trade ...
″
‶
Well, if he wants such dreams
to come true, I′d say it is clearly Valentine′s duty to find an
heiress whose parents are not so particular. As a beginning, he could bestir
himself from his misery, and not rely on his sister to cure his
troubles.″
She stared at him for a moment, her eyes wide.
And then, to his surprise, she bent her head as if in defeat. Her voice was a
mere whisper;
‶
I
have done it again, haven′t I? I only wanted to make things right for him,
and now I′ve convinced you that he is truly the heartless fortune hunter
you thought him.″ She raised her gaze to his.
‶
It isn′t
true, Your Grace. I came of my own accord. Valentine would have stopped me, if
he′d known.″
‶
I don′t doubt that, Miss
Fenster. Still, he shared a womb with you. I would expect him to know you well
enough by now. If he can′t handle you, he should find you a husband who
will.″
Her chin lifted.
‶
Valentine is not fool enough to
marry me to a man who seeks to control me. And I would not want him to marry
but for love.″
Hearts and hero-worship; he should have known.
‶
Then you are both fools, for
love is a temporary aberration, and marriage requires a sharp business acumen —
to ally oneself with an inferior partner will bring you nothing but disaster
for your lifetime.″ He watched her eyes flash with fire and wondered how
she might ever find a husband who was not inferior to her magnificence. The
thought of her as another man′s wife bred fury in him.
‶
Valentine is not an
‵
inferior′
partner. He would have — he
will
make
Emily a fine husband. And certainly you should not speak so cynically. You have
had your choice of alliances and yet you have not married. Surely you are
waiting for the one who touches your heart as well as adds to your pedigree?
Perhaps someone from whom you would not need to hide the contents of that
leather pouch of yours.″
Her words were a blow to him, but he hid his
pain with a quick smile.
‶
I′ll have you know, Miss Fenster, that I once,
quite foolishly, nearly offered for a young woman based on the color of her
eyes and the quickness of her smile. Only Fate intervened in time to save us
both from an unhappy union.″ Fate, and the burden he carried next to his
heart every waking moment.
He saw her curiosity pique, but she asked
nothing of who, as many a woman might.
‶
Nonsense. That is not love —
liking a woman′s eyes and smile. That is physical attraction. I am
talking of a meeting of the souls and minds of two individuals who are meant
for each other — like Cinder Ella and her prince, or Rapunzel and the man brave
enough to climb far from solid ground to reach her tower.″
As she stared at him, fully expecting him to
agree with her romantic drivel, Simon suddenly had no doubt that hero-worship
was an even more dangerous emotion than the avarice felt by the army of young
women angling to marry him by fair method or foul.
She was so serene, so certain that he posed no
danger to her reputation that he suddenly wanted to discompose her as badly as
she had unsettled him.
‶
Can you be so sure? What do you know of the power of
physical attraction?″
Her smile faltered and she quickly turned her
attention back to the apple in her hand.
‶
I have had a few suitors since
Mama and Papa′s death.″
Knowing the kind of men who would have offered
for a young woman without parental guidance, Simon′s stomach clenched in
anger.
‶
And
you found none of them acceptable?″