Duel of Hearts (29 page)

She pouted. “You're unkind, Edward, to remind me of North. He was the most despicable monster, and I'm determined to put him out of my mind. I must have been
mad
to imagine that I cared for him. I was an ignorant child.”

“I see,” Edward said drily. “But you've quite grown up now, is that it? Overnight?”

“It can happen that way sometimes,” she said seriously. “A shocking experience of that nature … it makes a woman more mature somehow.”

“Does it indeed?”

“Oh, yes. It's
bound
to. It makes one learn … what is valuable and meaningful in one's life.”

“Oh?” He smiled at her indulgently. “And what did you learn is valuable and meaningful in
your
life?”

“A great many things. Daynwood, for one. I shall always value it now—more than I ever did before. And Father. And Belinda. And … and you.”

“Good. It's time you realized that one's greatest treasures are found at home.”

“Yes, they are,” she said with a sigh.

They rode on in silence until the landscape began to be recognizable. “Oh, look!” Cory exclaimed excitedly. “There's Swallow Road! We're almost home! Oh, Edward, stop the carriage.”

“Why? What for?”

“I have something I must say to you. Something quite urgent. And I can't say it while you're holding the reins and watching the horses.”

“Cory, if you're going to make another speech about your gratitude for my ‘rescue,' you may save yourself the trouble. I've heard all I can stand on the subject.”

“No, it's not that. It's about … something else entirely.”

“Very well, then,” he said obligingly and pulled the carriage to the side of the road. “Now, Miss, what is it?”

“It's about … a husband for me.”

“Oh, yes. I'd forgotten. You began to tell me that you've latched on to a new prospect. I surmise that, this time, you've chosen someone a bit more acceptable.”

She nodded eagerly. “The very best. Belinda has been telling me for
years
to consider him, but I didn't appreciate … until now, that is … his very sterling qualities—”

“
Sterling
qualities?” His eyes brimmed with wicked amusement. “That's quite a change for you, isn't it?”

“Don't tease, Edward. I'm very serious about this. I didn't realize, all this time, that he is the man I truly want, but now—”

He couldn't repress his grin. “But now, in your newly found maturity, it's all suddenly clear.”

Cory nodded. “Yes. Exactly.” She looked down at her hands. “I wish you wouldn't tease.”

He patted her hands kindly. “Well, Cory, if I know your friend Belinda, it's Tom Moresby you're speaking of. I heartily approve, my dear, even if I seem to be teasing. There isn't a sounder, more reliable fellow in the county.”

Cory giggled. “It isn't Tom. Belinda's caught him for
herself!
”

“You don't say! Clever girl, Belinda. But then, who—?”

She tossed him a coy glance. “Can't you guess?”

“I haven't the foggiest notion.”

“Oh, Edward, you can sometimes be the most
mutton-headed
—!” She hesitated, eyed him askance, and then, in a burst of bravado, threw her arms about him.

He reared back, startled. “Cory! What—?”

“Don't you see?” she whispered into his ear. “It's always been you! I just didn't realize it. We shall be so
happy
, my love.”

Edward was shocked into immobility. This turn of affairs had caught him completely off guard. For a moment, he had no idea of what he thought, what he felt, or what he should do. She was in his arms, as he'd so often dreamed she might be, her lips against his ear, her body soft and pliant against his. And he felt … what? Certainly not joy. Not even triumph. He felt …
uncomfortable
!

A part of his mind wanted to laugh. This wasn't love—it was embarrassment! He was like an uncle discomfitted by the effusions of an overly emotional niece. He'd played the role for so long that it had become the truth! His love for Cory was nothing more than avuncular … a deep and protective affection. But mature love—the passion a man could feel for a woman he wished to wed—was something very different. It was something deeper, something that stirred the spirit to the core. Something like what he felt for—Good Lord!—for Sarah!

The thought struck him with a shattering clarity.
Sarah
! What a blind fool he'd been all these weeks. Everything that had happened now seemed bathed in a new light. He'd promised himself to put the London experiences behind him, but now he must think things over more carefully. Although certainly
this
was not the time for it.
Cory
was in his arms. He would have to take care of her first.

Gently, he removed her arms from about his neck. “Don't, Cory,” he said softly. “You don't really mean these words at all.”

“But I
do
! Truly! I mean every word.”

He took her hand. “You've been badly hurt, my little one, and it was only
yesterday
. Your emotions are bruised, and they're searching about for a quick and easy cure. So they light on me. But when those wounds are healed—and they
will
be, if you wait calmly and quietly for some time to pass—you'll find that your feelings for me will return to what they were before all this happened. You'll look on me again as a dull, nagging old uncle whom you're merely fond of.”

Her eyes clouded. “No! That's not
true
! I
love
you! I love you more than ever I loved North!”

“You only think so now … because your heart is so empty.”

She blinked at him, two round tears spilling down her cheeks. “But I thought … I was sure that … Don't you love
me
?”

“Of course I do. I'm the fondest old uncle that ever was.”

“
Edward
! Is that
all?
”

He grinned at her. “All?
All?
My dear child, when you consider what I've been through these past two months in your behalf, you'll have to admit it is a very great deal.”

But Cory would not be consoled. She turned away from him and stared gloomily out the window. Edward, not knowing what else to say, pulled at the reins and turned the horses back to the road.

Cory wept until she saw the gates of Daynwood from the window. “We're home,” she sighed tremulously. “I suppose I'd better dry my eyes, or I shall alarm Papa.” She sniffed bravely and wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand.

It was not often that Cory showed such thoughtfulness of others. Edward gave her an admiring smile. “That's the spirit,” he said encouragingly. “Perhaps you
are
maturing after all.”

They pulled up at the doorway. “Much good it will do me,” Cory said with her old petulance. “There isn't a single man, either here or in London, who wants me now. I shall die an old maid. A miserable, lonely old maid.”

With that grim prediction, she jumped from the carriage and ran up the steps. As he watched her go, her bronze-gold hair glinting in the faint sunlight and her slim ankles peeping deliciously from beneath her skirt as she ran, he doubted the truth of that prediction. He doubted it very much indeed.

And so he came home at last. Throughout his stay in London he'd said home was the one place in the world where he wanted to be. It was the place that had always given him contentment. He loved the work involved in the supervision of the land, in dealing with the tenants, in doing the accounts. He loved the outdoor pastimes and the indoor relaxations. He loved the smell of the stables and the damp fragrance of the fields in the early mornings. But there was no contentment in any of these things now. He couldn't seem to settle down. He couldn't concentrate on his work or take pleasure in any of his former amusements. It soon became clear that a large part of him had been left behind in London. He hadn't really come home at all.

It was Sarah, of course. Sarah's face came between him and everything he looked upon. He thought over everything that had happened during his stay in town in the light of his new awareness of his feelings, but nothing substantial was changed by it. Sarah loved North. Edward's feelings for her couldn't change that.

He tried to put her out of his mind, but he didn't succeed for a moment. He seemed to live
her
days rather than his own. It was ten in the morning—what was she doing now? Had she breakfasted? Was she in her sitting room writing letters? Would she ever write to him? It was evening—was she dressing for a ball? Would she go on North's arm? Did she really intend to wed him after all that had happened?

He lay awake at night, staring up at the ceiling of his room. Was
she
awake? Did she ever think of him? Did she remember the feeling of his lips when he'd kissed her that night so many weeks ago, as he remembered hers? Did North kiss her so? The possibility drove him wild.

How could she love that blackguard?
That
was the question that troubled him more than any other. Although he'd read that love was a powerful, overwhelming and irrational emotion, it was still inconceivable to him that a sensitive, intelligent, gently bred female could lose her head over an attractive scoundrel. Besides, marriage was something larger and more encompassing than mere infatuation. A person of sense should not give her
life
away on the basis of an irrational passion. Marriage required honesty, trust, reliability and tender regard. North would be able to supply
not one
of those essential qualities.

The more these thoughts bombarded his mind, the more he became convinced that he could not allow her to go through with the marriage. An idea, born of the pain of his unrequited passions and nurtured in the sleepless darkness of the night, grew in his mind. He would
abduct
her! He would return to London at once and drag her back with him to Lincolnshire, by force if necessary. North might be the man she loved, but
he
, Edward Middleton, was the man she ought to marry. He would surely be the better man for her in the long run—he must make her see that.

The following day, Martin came home from town with the baggage that Corianne and Edward had not been able to collect because of their abrupt departure. To the groom's complete astonishment, the Squire picked up his portmanteau and tossed it back into the carriage. “I'm returning to London, you see,” he explained briefly.

“Returnin'?” Martin asked, gaping. “When?”

“Right now,” Edward told the openmouthed groom.

He arrived in London early the following evening and made a quick stop at Fitz's apartments. The memory of his leave-taking of them had made him feel embarrassed and guilty. They had been too kind to him to deserve the bitter anger he'd exhibited when he'd left them that night at the inn. Besides, he wanted to see how Clara would react to his plan.

Fitz crowed with delight to see him. “Dash it, I didn't dare hope to see you again, old fellow! What brings you back?” he demanded, pumping Edward's hand energetically. “I was afraid we'd seen the last of you.”

“We had the decided impression that you were angry with us,” Clara said, kissing his cheek affectionately.

“Forgive me for that,” Edward said, smiling his old, heart-warming smile. “I was angry at the world in general and myself in particular … but never at you.”

“I'm glad of that, Ned. We'd like to
keep
this friendship, Clara and I,” Fitz said, beaming at him.

“But you haven't told us what brings you,” Clara reminded him.

“Sit down, please, Clara, for I fear I'm about to shock you. It's an abduction that's brought me.”

“An abduction?” Fitz echoed, his smile fading. “Perhaps I'd better sit down, too. Is it Cory
again?
”

“No, no. It's Sarah. I've decided that I'm going to steal her away from that worm North. I can't permit her to wed him, you see. She'll be much happier married to me, though she may not realize it now.” He looked sheepishly at their astounded faces. “Are you very much appalled?”

Fitz opened his mouth, but words failed him. He chewed his moustache for a moment and then tried again. “Ned, old fellow, haven't you
heard?
I mean, well, confound it, man, didn't you realize that Sarah isn't—?”

Clara dug a heel sharply into Fitz's foot. “What Fitz means,” she improvised, giving her husband a warning look, “is that Sarah isn't … er … expecting you.”

“No, of course she isn't,” Edward said with a laugh. “One doesn't warn a lady that she's about to be abducted. I intend to take her by surprise.”

“But, Ned,” Clara asked, looking at him closely, “what about Corianne?”

“Corianne?” Edward blinked at her impatiently. “What has
she
to do with this?” He waved the question aside, dismissing it as an irrelevancy.

Clara and Fitz looked at each other in amused wonder. “Nothing, I suppose,” Clara murmured, hiding a grin.

“Well, what do you
think?
Have I lost my mind? Will Sarah rebuff me and have me tossed out the nearest window?”

Fitz gave a snort of laughter, but a sharp jab in his side, delivered cruelly by his wife's elbow, cut the laugh short. Clara bit her lip. “Who can say?” she said, struggling to keep her tone enigmatic. “But by all means, go and try.”

Edward got up feeling decidedly encouraged, although he couldn't have said why. Fitz pumped his hand again. “Well, good luck, old chap. Be sure to let us know the outcome.”

After Edward left, Fitz rounded on his wife. “Why did you step on my foot that way?” he complained. “What did I say?”

“You were going to tell him that Sarah broke with North for good on the night of the elopement, weren't you?”