Pleasing the Colonel (13 page)

“Yes,” he said simply, again meeting his eye directly.

He liked the man. He handled himself well and had taken appropriate steps toward making himself suitable. “I have some connections. I'm sure it would be easy enough to find you a position. That is, if you are truly qualified. Do you have anyone to recommend your work?”

“Yes, sir. My professors would recommend me and I spent three years in France working on public building projects. My employer there would certainly write a recommendation.”

Charles nodded, satisfied. “If you are able to secure a position, you will have my blessing to offer for my sister.”

Bates looked stunned and exceedingly grateful. He shook his hand. “Thank you, Colonel. I will take very good care of her, I assure you.”

They finished their brandies in pleasant conversation and then headed outside to find the rest of their party. He still had the second half of his plan to execute. They met the Livingstons and Lucinda coming in the back door. “Where is Miss Downy?” he asked in what he hoped was a casual tone.

“Outside, taking a walk in the rose garden with Mr. Bartlby,” Lucinda said absently, intent in conversation with her new friends.

He frowned and felt his heart pick up speed. Why was Miss Downy walking unchaperoned with Bartlby in the garden? It was highly improper, not to mention… he shuddered slightly at the jealousy that had just surged through his entire being. He opened the back door and walked toward the garden, telling himself that she might require his assistance if Bartlby was not behaving as a gentleman.

He stopped when he caught sight of them. Bartlby's head was bent to hers and they were kissing. As Bartlby withdrew, Miss Downy looked up over his shoulder and caught Charles’ eye with a look of dismay.

He turned abruptly and went into the house, his breath pulling shallowly in his ribs.

Chapter Seven

Oh no.
Her heart constricted painfully. She started for the manor without a word, but Bartlby caught her arm. “I'm sorry, Miss Downy. Please forgive me. That was totally inappropriate. It's just that—I haven't stopped thinking of you since the night of that carriage accident.”

Mandy stared at him in shock. The image burning in her mind was that of the Colonel's shocked and disappointed face. Her thoughts swirled around her in a jumble and her belly felt as though it were filled with lead.

She pulled her hand away from Bartlby. “I'm sorry, Mr. Bartlby, I am not the sort of lady who kisses men in the garden.” She started to walk back to the manor and he hurried to catch up with her.

“Please wait, Miss Downy. I did not mean to offend.”

“I must retire now,” she said, her voice thready with nerves.

“Of course, Miss Downy. I apologize again—I did not mean to be so forward. Will you allow me to call tomorrow?”

She could not even answer that question. “Excuse me, Mr. Bartlby,” she said unevenly, stumbling into the manor and up the staircase without bidding the rest of the guests goodnight. She closed the door to her room and leaned against the door.
Good heavens.

The Colonel had seen her kissing Bartlby. What would he think? She felt ashamed that he had seen her behaving inappropriately. She'd had no idea Bartlby would kiss her, but she should have known better than to walk alone with him in the garden.

Would he consider her behavior grounds for dismissal? Or worse, would he force Bartlby to offer for her now that he had compromised her with that kiss? He was the sort of man to step in and act as her guardian since she hadn't one. The thought made her feel sick. She didn't want to marry Bartlby. The truth was, when Bartlby had kissed her, all she could think was that she wished he were the Colonel. And now that the Colonel had witnessed their kiss, well, any chance there might have been for such a thing had evaporated. She sat down on her bed and blinked back tears.

Well, there was nothing she could do tonight. In the morning she would make it clear that she was not interested in Bartlby. She heard the guests departing in their carriage. She blew out her lantern and threw herself onto her bed, knowing she would not sleep well. She tossed and turned, seeing the Colonel's shocked face before her over and over again.

In the morning, she resolved to apologize to the Colonel for her inappropriate behavior and try to measure by his reaction whether he had any personal interest or not. But considering how wooden the Colonel could appear, her hopes for success were not too high. She went downstairs to the breakfast table, only to find Miss Watson sitting alone.

The young lady looked particularly pleased that morning. “Good morning, Miss Downy. How did you sleep?” she inquired politely.

Mandy eyed her suspiciously. “Not so well, actually. Where is the Colonel this morning?”

“He's gone to London,” Miss Watson said primly.

“What?”

“Yes, he said he had business to attend to and he left quite early.”

She sat down in shock, absorbing that information. Could it be he left because of what he'd seen in the garden? Surely not. Yet he'd mentioned nothing about leaving for London. She frowned until she caught Miss Watson studying her curiously.

“You must be happy?” the young woman said.

“Pardon?”

“About Mr. Bartlby's attentions?”

“Oh, well… no. I'm not, actually,” she sighed.

Miss Watson peered at her. “Did he offer for you?”

“No,” she said frowning.

“Oh!” Miss Watson looked taken aback.

Mandy wondered if she knew he'd kissed her in the garden.

Miss Watson chewed her lip a moment. “Mr. Bates is applying for a position as an architect in London with a friend of Charles,” she said, obviously trying to temper her good news to match Mandy's more dismal look.

“That's wonderful,” Mandy said. “Does that mean you will consider him if he proposes?”

Miss Watson nodded happily. “He already has. And Charles agreed, provided Bates gets the position. He even said he would give us the London apartment and an annual income,” she beamed happily.

“Congratulations!” Mandy said, genuinely happy for her. “When will you marry?”

“I don't know—I was thinking in a month's time. Three weeks to post the banns and an extra week to be sure my dress is ready.”

“That sounds perfect.” Mandy looked down at her toast and found she simply could not stomach it. Though she was happy for Miss Watson, the talk of weddings only compounded her own distress. When the children appeared from the kitchen as a welcome diversion, she stood up hastily and called to them, “Come children, it's time for lessons!”

Bartlby called in the afternoon and asked her to take a walk with him. After some polite chatter, he launched into the subject on both their minds. “I want to apologize again for causing you distress last night. I was not planning to simply kiss you and say goodnight, Miss Downy. I had planned on asking for your hand in marriage.”

Mandy opened and closed her hands, feeling the sweat pooling in her palms. She felt slightly dizzy. “Mr. Bartlby,” she began after a deep breath. “I just—I simply—I cannot accept your offer.”

“I know you're looking for a love match,” he said and for the thousandth time she cursed her unrestrained chatter from that night of the accident. “I love you, Miss Downy, and I think you could grow to love me, too.”

She blinked at him. “Mr. Bartlby, I—” She had no idea what to say. “I cannot,” she finished lamely.

He cocked his head and looked at her. “Because you don't love me?”

She nodded.

“Well, I'm going to continue to court you, Miss Downy, in hopes that I might win your heart eventually,” he declared. “Will you allow me that much?”

She sighed. “On one condition,” she said.

“Yes?”

“No more kisses.”

Bartlby grinned at her. “You have my word,” he said and departed with a hopeful air that made her cringe.

She spent the next several days in a state of misery, waiting for the Colonel to return, worrying about what he thought of her. On the fourth day since the Colonel had left, Miss Watson said, “Miss Downy, you've been pacing around the manor for days now. Would you like to go for a walk?”

“What?” she asked, jerked out of her miserable thoughts. “Oh, yes, I should like that.” She stood, retrieved her parasol and hovered near the door, waiting for Miss Watson. Unlike her, the young lady had been in an exceptional mood ever since the dinner party.

They strolled up the path and Miss Watson said, “I wrote to my brother and told him that you refused Bartlby's marriage proposal.”

Mandy stopped, surprised. “How did you know that I—” She stopped. Well of course it would be obvious that she had refused. Otherwise, she would have declared the good news.

“I told him you have been walking around the manor for the past three days wringing your hands.”

“You didn't!”

“I did,” she said with a smug smile. “And I wouldn't be surprised if he returns tonight.”

Mandy stared at Miss Watson, her surprise at their sudden camaraderie around the issue closest to her heart taking her by storm. How the young woman had deduced her feelings was beyond her. “Am I so obvious?”

Miss Watson smiled. “I don't know why I didn't notice it sooner. Well, perhaps I did, but I didn't want to admit it. There's an attraction on both sides, I am certain.”

Mandy flushed with pleasure. “You think so?”

Miss Watson nodded and took her hand. “I said I was certain.”

“I hope you're right,” she whispered, feeling terribly exposed and vulnerable.

* * *

The carriage pulled up at the manor and he sat in it for a moment, unwilling to climb out and enter. He had read and re-read Lucinda's letter several times, to be sure he understood what she was trying to tell him. If she was right, Miss Downy was interested in him. If she was wrong… he had still not managed to tamp down the emotions that had been storming through him since he'd seen Bartlby kissing Miss Downy.

He sighed. He couldn't stay in the carriage all day. He climbed out and walked into the manor, simultaneously thrilled and dismayed when Miss Downy came to the entryway to greet him. He found he was unable to offer her more than a curt nod before he escaped into his study.

A few moments later there was a light tap on the door and he called, “Come in.”

Miss Downy entered. He was standing at the sideboard, pouring himself a brandy. She approached him and stopped a few feet away.

“Colonel, I—I wanted to apologize to you for going to the courtyard with Bartlby.”

He said nothing.

“I'm sorry because… I truly wish to retain your regard.”

“My regard,” he said coolly. “What kind of regard do you mean? My regard as your employer?”

“No. Yes. What I mean, is…” She took a deep breath and plunged forward, “Well, I was hoping for the kind of regard that Bartlby was offering.”

His heart jumped painfully and he felt a surge of pure possessive desire for her. He closed the distance between them, grabbed her, and kissed her roughly, his lips capturing her mouth like he was staking a claim. She gasped when he released her and he could feel her trembling beneath his touch.

“That kind of regard?”

“Yes, sir,” she gasped.

He kissed her again—a bruising sort of kiss, almost a punishment, filled with all the heat and passion he had been trying to ignore since the day he'd met her. His tongue plunged into her mouth, taking her as completely as he could with just a kiss. She groaned and responded to his onslaught, meeting him with her own ardor, her little tongue tangling with his, her lips moving. When they parted, she stared up at him, swaying on her feet a bit as if she were dizzy.

“Will you marry me, Amanda Downy?”

She gave a little bark of nervous laughter and then beamed a brilliant smile. “Yes, Colonel Watson.”

He kissed her again, a kiss that started as rough as the first two but ended soft and slow and tender. Her lips were eager, her tongue sweetly inquisitive. She was standing on her toes, leaning against him so that he could feel the apples of her breasts pressing into his chest as he wrapped his arms around her slender back, running one hand up and down it as the other tangled in her hair. He explored her mouth, enjoying the feel of her body against his as he reveled in the knowledge that she was his now to kiss as often as he pleased. When they parted he stared down at her and stroked her cheek tenderly.

“You're willing to be 'trapped and financially comfortable with some stiff military officer'?” he inquired, reminding her of the words she had spoken that night of the carriage accident.

She groaned. “I was a fool. I wish I'd never opened my mouth that night.” She looked into his eyes earnestly. “If you recall, I said I'd rather be available for a love match.”

“Yes.”

She swallowed. “So in this case, the love match just happens to be with a stiff military officer.”

His heart flipped in his chest. He gazed at her lovingly and ran his thumb along her lower lip. “Incredible,” he said.

She raised her eyebrows. “Incredible?”

“That you should love a stiff old man like me.”

Her eyes filled with tears and she stood on her tiptoes to reach his lips with her own. He met her halfway and showed her the sweetest of kisses, filled with love and tenderness and the promise of more to come.

* * *

“Are you stalling, Mrs. Watson?” the Colonel—Charles, as she was learning to call him—teased as she sat in her chemise, combing her long hair on their wedding night. Excitement and trepidation were bubbling up in her as her first night as a wife approached.

They'd had a double wedding. The Colonel had sent for her mother and sister, inviting both of them to live permanently at the manor as his guests. He and Mandy had married first, followed by Miss Watson and Mr. Bates.

Charles had taken her to Bath for their honeymoon. He came up behind her now and put his hands on her shoulders. She whirled around, jumping a little. He took her hand and pulled her to standing.

“You don't need to be nervous, my sweet.” He bent his head and met her lips with his, gentle at first, then turning hungry—his tongue demanding access and caressing her lips and the inside of her mouth with insistence. She returned the kiss, reaching her arms around his neck, pressing her body to his. He groaned. “Come to bed,” he said hoarsely.