Regina Scott (20 page)

Her words haunted him the rest of the morning. Who was this woman looking out of Phoebe’s eyes? Had his sister finally taken the step from girl to adult? And who could he praise for helping the transformation? Certainly not him. He’d been too quick to judge her.

And not quick enough to judge himself. Phoebe might have postured to get her own way, but he was no different in wanting things just the way he liked them. He took satisfaction in order, logic, discipline,
routine. But there was always more than one way to accomplish a task, and who said his way was the only way? Who even said the task he was trying to accomplish was right?

Only God.

When was the last time he’d asked for advice, sought counsel through prayer or the Bible? Had he even stopped to pray before deciding to marry Meredee? What kind of man had he become that he thought he ruled the world? That anyone who resisted his decrees deserved punishment?

When had he made himself god of his world?

He walked out the front door of the house, raising his footman’s brows in the process, and headed out onto the moors. The grasses rippled to the far horizon, open, free. In the stillness, he could hear the mournful cry of the thrush calling for its mate, the rustle of paws as some tiny creature rushed away from him.

Forgive me, Lord. I’ve set myself up in Your place. I thought it was my duty to protect those around me, to sacrifice myself for them if needed, when You’ve already paid the greatest price. Show me what You want me to do, with my life, with this illness, with my future. Guide my footsteps in Your paths.

A breeze caressed his cheek, and peace flowed with each step. He knew what he must do. He’d go to Whitaker, talk to the man, learn if he still cared for Phoebe.

And he’d take care of another matter in Scar
borough, as well. There was one other person he needed to ask for forgiveness. And he knew just how to do it.

“I
still do not understand why you cannot accompany me to the spa,” Mrs. Price said, tying the ribbons on her daisy-trimmed straw bonnet. “Algernon may be intent on hiding like a hermit in his cave, but I’m persuaded we could do with some air!”

Meredee glanced to where her stepbrother was bent over the little sitting room table, parchment scattered about him. He’d decided to write a speech that Lord Allyndale could not ignore. He’d started yesterday morning after they’d returned the night before and had been hard at work at it ever since. His dark hair stood on end as if he’d run his hand through it more than once, and he still wore his crimson coat, horridly rumpled now.

“I’d simply prefer a quiet day again today,” Meredee murmured, spreading her blue cotton skirts to take a seat at the table, as well. How could she go to the spa, pretend everything was fine, watch the
world go on as if nothing had changed? “You will enjoy Colonel Williams’s company, I am certain.”

“There is that,” Mrs. Price allowed. She brightened. “And perhaps without you there he will be emboldened to further our acquaintance. Clever girl!”

Meredee wasn’t sure her stepmother was referring to her or to herself, but she smiled as Mrs. Price kissed her cheek and sailed from the room.

“You should have gone with her,” Algernon said, crumpling up yet another pierce of parchment. “I’m no kind of company.”

“Neither am I,” Meredee replied. “But at least we both know the reasons why.”

He grunted and dipped his quill in ink once more. Meredee watched him a moment, listening to the scratch of the nib against the sheet. She’d prayed much of yesterday and twice more since rising, yet still answers eluded her. She felt as if someone had a fist in her back, urging her up, out. Yet where was she supposed to go? What was she supposed to do?

She rose and paced the room, three steps to the window and three steps to the table. Back and forth, back and forth, her brain moving as quickly as her steps. The rustle of her gown eclipsed the sound of the quill.

“I wish you’d stop doing that,” Algernon muttered. “It’s hard to concentrate.”

Meredee smiled. “Now you know how everyone else feels when you pace.”

Algernon glanced up with a smile. But before he could answer her, a knock sounded at the door. They both stared at the yellow-painted panel.

Algernon set down his quill. “I suppose I should get that.”

“No, no,” Meredee said, hurrying to the door. “It’s probably just Mr. Hollister, the innkeeper, asking if we want anything. I’ll get it.” She opened the door.

Chase stood on the other side. His black coat outlined his powerful body; his craggy face was stern. Still, at the sight of him she felt a jolt that threatened to rock her off her feet.

He removed his top hat. “May I come in?”

She couldn’t find her voice. Behind her, she heard Algernon’s chair scrape the floor as he rose. “Let him in, Meredee. I’m ready for him.”

Chase’s face tightened. She wanted to shove him out the door and pull him closer at the same time. But she knew this had to be Algernon’s fight. She stepped aside and let Chase in.

He nodded to her stepbrother, stripping off his driving gloves and laying them and his hat on the table. “Whitaker.”

“Allyndale.” Algernon raised his chin. “I intended to come see you today. I owe you an explanation.”

Chase raised a brow. “Yes, you do.”

Algernon nodded as if satisfied they’d agreed on at least this much. He stood stiffly, his coat a wash of blood against the yellow of the room. Chase stood
just as stiffly, his shoulders broader, his stance wider, as if aching for a fight. Could they agree on anything so important as Lady Phoebe’s future? Or hers? The stretching silence pulled at her senses.

“Gentlemen,” Meredee said, eyeing them each in turn, “I suggest you get on with it.”

She thought Chase’s mouth quirked. Was he fighting a smile? She hated the hope that sprang up in her heart.

“Very well,” Algernon said, feet shuffling just the slightest as if he longed to pace. “First, I want you to know that I would never do anything to harm your sister, Allyndale. That’s why when you first rejected my suit, I left London.”

“Very gentlemanly of you,” Chase said, “running away.”

Algernon paled. “You are not a man to cross, my lord.”

“Yet cross me you did.”

And so had she. She’d feared just such a fierce look from him, thought she might flee from it. Now she wasn’t sure what to think, what to feel. She could see heartache looming in every direction.

Take a step. Follow me.

Algernon took a step closer to him. “I only resisted you when it became apparent how unhappy your sister was. I could not stand by and watch her be made a prisoner in her own home.”

Was Meredee a prisoner, too, of fear? She could
see a muscle working in Chase’s jaw. She thought he might argue with Algernon, but instead he merely said, “So you effected a prison break.”

Algernon shook his head. “No, my lord. Your sister came to me. She let me know that she returned my love and wanted nothing more than to be my wife.” He lowered his gaze and fingered the sheet of parchment on the table. “To my sorrow, I did not take her up on her generous offer. I insisted that we must wait, that we must win your approval.”

“That you must use your sister’s influence to sway me.”

Chase said the words so calmly, so coolly, that Meredee could almost believe he didn’t care. Yet each word cut through her emotions like a knife. “I never pled his cause,” she felt compelled to put in. “I never sang his praises.”

Chase glanced at her. His face remained composed, but some emotion crouched in his eyes. Before she could name it, he looked away. “No, you simply pointed out that I was keeping my sister too close, even after you knew the reason why.”

If that’s what he believed, then he’d never known her. She squared her shoulders against the pain.

“Delacorte,” Algernon said. “The rotter. Sir Trevor explained the situation to me on the road. But you mustn’t blame Meredee, my lord. She had no idea he was in town or that he was dangerous.”

“Actually, she knew both,” Chase said before she
could explain to Algernon. “I spoke with Sir Trevor yesterday. He told me she searched tirelessly for you and Phoebe. And her warning to him allowed him to be in the right place to intercept you.”

Once more he was making her sound the savior, but she would not allow herself to fall into that trap again. “I started searching for Algernon,” she told him, “because I wanted him to tell you the truth before you came to call on me.”

Chase gazed toward the window, as if the sun or the sky could somehow answer him. “And why was that?”

Oh, but she would not answer. She could not tell him how she’d hoped for his love, not after what had passed between them, not when he was clearly here to judge.

Algernon answered for her. “Because she’d been trying to convince me to tell you for days, and I wouldn’t listen.”

“Then why tell me all now, Mr. Whitaker? Why not show me the door?”

“Because I love Phoebe!” Meredee winced at his shout, but Algernon ran both hands through his hair, forcing it to stand on end. “Have you heard nothing I’ve ever said to you? I adore your sister! She’s clever and warm, and her beauty outshines the sun. She is a paragon among women, and I wish you’d just consent to let me offer for her hand in marriage!”

Meredee brought both hands to her mouth to
smother the nervous laugh that threatened to escape. After laboring all night, that was the best her stepbrother could manage? Chase would eat him for supper.

Across the room, Chase raised his chin and looked at Algernon down his nose, his gaze sharp and assessing. No! She would not allow this to end in a duel after all, even if she had to jump between them and force them apart.

“Very well, Mr. Whitaker,” Chase said. “Ask her.”

Algernon blinked, arm half raised as if to threaten dire consequences at a refusal. He slowly lowered his arm. “You mean it?”

He did. Meredee could see it in the light that brightened his eyes. Her hands fell away from her mouth as relief washed over her.
Thank You, Lord!

“I am a man of my word, Whitaker,” Chase said. “Phoebe’s at the estate now, waiting for you. I told her my intentions in coming here today. She was hoping for just such an outcome.”

Algernon glanced at Meredee, face alight. His joy spilled over her as he reached out and seized Chase’s hand. “I don’t know how to thank you, my lord,” he stammered, pumping Chase’s hand over and over. “I promise to take the best care of her.”

“I would expect no less,” Chase said, managing to disengage. “But be advised. I told Phoebe I would stand for no less than a year’s engagement.”

Algernon’s face fell. “A year?”

“A year, sir. I have known my sister since the day she was born, and yesterday I learned I never knew her at all. I want to make sure that you both have time to appreciate each other’s character before marrying. If your feelings are unchanged a year from now, you will have my blessing.” He bent closer. “But not a day sooner, sir, or we may yet meet across that dueling field.”

Algernon nodded. “Agreed. And let me say that you have made me the happiest of men.” He looked again at Meredee. “Do you hear that, Meredee? I’m to be married!”

Meredee had to smile. Algernon, it seemed, had been granted his fondest wish. She still wasn’t sure what to do about hers. “I heard,” she said. “Congratulations. But perhaps you’d better ask Phoebe before you make the announcement.”

He struck his forehead with the heel of one hand. “Phoebe! Of course I must ask Phoebe. I’ll borrow a horse immediately.” He started for the door, then stopped suddenly and looked back at Meredee, uncertain. “That is, if you don’t need me.”

His kindness warmed her, but before she could answer, Chase spoke up. “Your sister is in good hands, Mr. Whitaker. I suggest you leave before I change my mind.”

She shook her head. There went her irresistible earl, taking command of the situation. Algernon must
have felt the same way, for he straightened. “You cannot intimidate me, my lord,” he said, though his voice cracked on the last word. “Meredee, do you wish to speak with this gentleman?”

Did she? Chase’s face was blank; his eyes told her nothing. He held his emotions deeply, where no one could reach them. Yet suddenly she knew she wanted to reach them. She wanted to be near him, to share confidences, to feel the brush of his hand against hers. She couldn’t let him walk away. If God had given her this opportunity, she would not waste it.

I’m taking a step, Lord.

“Yes, Algernon,” she said. “I believe you can leave me safely in Lord Allyndale’s company.”

He walked back to face Chase. “You will be kind to my sister, my lord. Or we may yet meet across the dueling field.”

“Understood, Mr. Whitaker,” Chase said, inclining his head with something akin to respect. “I will be a gentleman, I promise you.”

Algernon nodded as if satisfied and left the room.

And the space immediately felt smaller, the yellow walls close, the wood furniture tiny. Only a few feet separated her from Chase. He stood watching her, waiting. Could she cross that space? What should she say? Would he be as forgiving of her misdeeds as he was of Algernon’s?

“I believe I owe you an apology,” he said.

He owed
her
an apology? Her emotions came crashing down around her, and her knees started shaking. She clutched at the wall behind her to remain upright.

He strode to her side. “Meredee? Are you all right?”

She nodded, but he scooped her up in his arms as if she weighed nothing and carried her to the closest chair. She closed her eyes, breathed in his scent, let the heat from his body warm her.
I’ve never wanted anything so much, Lord. But not my will but Yours be done.

“Is it your head?” he murmured, setting her down on the chair. She opened her eyes to find him hovering over her, face tight with concern. “Or your stomach? Do you feel faint? I will never forgive myself if I’ve passed this cursed illness on to you!”

“No, no,” Meredee managed. She realized she was still gripping his jacket and released it, the warm wool falling away from her fingers. “I’m not ill. I’m just astonished. I was afraid you’d be furious with me.”

He sighed and stepped back. “Forgive me, both for making you think I was so hardhearted and for being so hardheaded. Phoebe says I’ve made a mess of things, and I begin to think she’s right.”

She bit back a smile. “Phoebe always thinks she’s right, my lord.”

He chuckled, and she wanted to clutch the sound to her heart, never release it. “I’m beginning to under
stand that, too. I wish your stepbrother the very best of luck.”

“So do I. But I believe love can make a difference.”

“Yes,” he murmured, “it can.”

Her heart started beating faster. “Then may I take it that I, too, am forgiven? I withheld the truth from you. I’m sorry.”

“You were put in an untenable position. I see that now. When I first learned the truth, I lashed out with out thinking.”

“Because you had been betrayed before. I understand.”

“You are always understanding. That is one of your great gifts, Meredee. And to prove to you that I understand, I wanted to give you something.”

She started to refuse, but he reached into his coat, drew out a long wooden box and held it out to her.

“Take it,” he said with a smile when she hesitated. “I promise it won’t bite.”

She took it slowly, turning it to see all sides. It was carved with vines and roses, the work delicate and intricate. “It’s lovely.”

“I hope you’ll like what’s inside better.”

Inside. She swallowed. With great care, she lifted the lid. There, cradled in brown velvet, lay the
incarnata.
The shell was tinged a warm salmon pink, the ides curved gently up to the tip. She swore she could
feel the heat of the sun, hear the hush of the waves just looking at it.

We did it, Papa. We found it!

Meredee drew a shaky breath. “Where did you get it?”

“I found it. I remembered what you’d said about not purchasing it, but I thought perhaps you would accept a gift from a friend. You’d mentioned the northern shores might be more likely spots. I spent the better part of yesterday searching, but God rewarded me with the morning tide.”