An Imperfect Engagement

by Alyssa Drake

  “Lord Westwood,” said Sam in a hollow tone.

  “Is away on business,” replied Wilhelmina with a note of finality in her voice. “Now, you have a final fitting this morning, and I cannot allow you to disappear again. Stop mooning about and get on your stool.”

  The day of the Shirely masque flew by in a blur of color and anxiety. Too soon, Sam found herself dressed for the occasion. She fidgeted with the gold choker which bound her throat in a sparkling band interwoven with diamonds and pearls, hiding the bruising around her neck. A comb, equal in decadence, decorated her hair, an enticing invitation to Franklin and his accomplice.

  Adorned with the largest piece of the collection—the diamond and sapphire necklace—Wilhelmina vibrated restlessly as well, pacing back and forth in the foyer, her eyes glancing toward the study at every pass. Beside the staircase, Miss Clemens remained pale and motionless, attempting to fade into the background.

  As the grandfather clock chimed in the hallway, Edward and Mr. Reid appeared simultaneously by Wilhelmina’s side, Edward slipping his arm through Wilhelmina’s with a silly grin. She returned his smile, leaning against him with a deep sigh. He kissed the top of her head affectionately before escorting her to one of the carriages which waited outside, a firm grip around her waist.

  Mr. Reid offered his arms to both Sam and Miss Clemens with an exaggerated bow. Miss Clemens giggled uneasily, pressing her gloved hand to her mouth. Sam could barely manage more than a tight smile, the sentiment not extending beyond her lips. She adjusted the necklace again, fiddling with the clasp.

  The short ten-minute ride to the Shirely country estate did nothing to ease Sam’s worries. Her eyes darted about the carriage. Mr. Reid, catching her gaze at one moment, offered a half-hearted grin. He thumped on the carriage wall, encouraging the driver to increase the carriage’s speed. With a crack of a whip, the horses responded, jerking the coach forward.

  Light pressure clasped Sam’s hand. Miss Clemens’ gloved hand squeezed Sam’s, a nervous, yet comforting gesture. Sam squeezed back. Dragging in a ragged breath, she exhaled slowly as the coach bounced along the dirt road. They overtook Edward’s carriage—at Mr. Reid’s continued urging—and passed it easily, arriving at the Shirely estate several moments prior to Edward. Sam grimaced; Edward detested any alteration to his plans. She wondered if antagonizing Edward was a favorite pastime of the Reid brothers. Miss Clemens leaned forward, distracting Sam from her brooding and twitched the curtain aside to peer out the window.

  Taking advantage of the full moon, the Shirely’s chose to host their masque in the gardens adjoining the drive, candles flickering invitingly from their posts above the garden path. A maze of hedges, immaculately trimmed, awaited those couples daring enough to attempt solving the labyrinth. According to Wilhelmina, a gorgeous marble fountain wrapped in ivy and several marble benches waited at the center. However, deciphering the labyrinth proved extremely difficult, Wilhelmina explained earlier that evening, since the Shirely’s altered the pathway each year.

  Lanterns swung merrily, tickled by a gentle breeze, bathing the garden in speckled light. Small groups of costumed guests murmured amongst themselves, the exuberant mood of the party increasing with each new arrival. Masks of all colors, highlighted by nearby torches and the bright moon, glinted at Sam as she peeped out the window over Miss Clemens’ shoulder. Sam’s stomach flipped over twice.

  Swallowing her nerves, she glanced at Mr. Reid. He forced a smile, pulling down his mask to hide from the worry leaking from his brown eyes. Mr. Reid’s mask, identical to Edward’s, hinted at a zebra—black with white accentuations.

  Sam donned her peacock mask, effectively hiding any remaining injuries which Franklin had administered upon her fragile skin. Miss Clemens repeated Sam’s actions in kind with her canary mask, drawing in a shaky breath.

  The coach door ripped open, causing a tiny shriek to escape from Miss Clemens. Edward’s zebra mask appeared. Sam imagined the face underneath was quite vexed. Several quietly hissed words were exchanged between Mr. Reid and Edward before Mr. Reid climbed from the carriage. He turned, holding out his hand to Sam.

  “Breathe, Samantha,” she instructed herself as she stepped from the safety of the carriage.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Benjamin waited impatiently, his eyes continually scanning the horizon. Dusk inched its way across the sky, trailing a coat of stars behind. Out of the approaching darkness, a coach barreled, pursued closely by a twin black carriage as if the drivers were racing each other. The first coach skidded to a halt, kicking up a plume of dust. Hidden in the shadows, Benjamin studied the guests milling about the garden, several of them taking note of the newly arrived carriages.

  None of them looked like Morris, but he was here, or he would be at some point this evening. Miss Hastings’ plan would draw him to the masque.

  Watching with interest, Benjamin inched forward to the edge of the black circle cloaking him. One man emerged from the second carriage, a scowl gracing his mouth, visible below the demi-mask. The scowl Benjamin knew quite well; only Edward could grimace in that particular fashion, which meant Thomas must be occupying the first coach. After helping Mrs. Hastings from their carriage, Edward stomped to the open door of the other carriage and leaned into the cabin. A hushed row ensued.

  Thomas emerged a few moments later. As he bounded easily from the coach, Thomas clapped Edward on the shoulder with a playful grin, Thomas’ infectious smile causing Mrs. Hastings to chuckle. She looped her arm through Edward’s and led him to a small group at the forefront of the expansive gardens, effectively ending the argument. They all murmured as she neared, their comments regarding the beauty of her necklace carrying across the grounds toward Benjamin’s hiding place.

  Spinning on his heel, Thomas bowed low to the inhabitants in his carriage. Benjamin recognized Miss Hastings as soon as her arm slid into view. The breath of air he held over the past ten minutes whooshed from his lungs when she appeared. Accepting Thomas’ hand, she floated to the ground. Her beautiful face, concealed by a blue mask, looked up peculiarly. She turned toward Benjamin’s shadow, as if she could feel him lurking in the darkness, and shivered under his intense gaze, the elegant necklace decorating her delicate throat shimmering in response.

  His heart swelled. Fighting his desire to fly to her side and embrace her, Benjamin tore his eyes from Miss Hastings, studying the guests in attendance. Not one offered any recognition of the jewelry worn by either Mrs. or Miss Hastings. Sighing in frustration, Benjamin adjusted his mask, a triplicate of Thomas’ and Edward’s, and sauntered out of the night, slipping among the guests, unnoticed.

  It was quite easy pretending to be Thomas. Benjamin and Thomas had employed this particular deception on a handful of occasions with much success. Their mother—the only exception to this ruse—possessed no difficulty in determining their true identity. However, neither she nor Aunt Abigail intended to make an appearance at tonight’s masque. Thomas called their decision to refuse the Shirely’s invitation an ongoing social snub.

  The atypical shade of blue of Miss Hastings’ dress caught Benjamin’s attention. She, Thomas, and Miss Clemens—Benjamin assumed the other girl must be her—stood near the entrance of the garden maze, having a lively discussion regarding the best method to solve the labyrinth. Benjamin scooted closer, eavesdropping on their conversation as they were joined by Edward and Mrs. Hastings.

  Thomas and Edward shook hands, agreeing to an unspecified bet. Each man selected a path and turned toward the ladies waiting under the rose covered archway. Mrs. Hastings chose Edward’s direction, Miss Clemens chose Thomas’ direction, and Miss Hastings remained rooted to the spot, her head oscillating between both paths. Benjamin slipped next to the hedge unnoticed, listening intently.

  “Honestly, I am not certain either one of you know the correct direction.” Miss Hastings, hands on her hips, looked earnestly down each path.

  “Sammie, you cannot create your own trail through the hedge,”
Edward said impatiently, earning a glower from his sister.

  She glanced at Thomas, then back at her brother. “Edward, I am extremely sorry, but I must side with Mr. Reid.”

  Thomas grinned exuberantly, taunting Edward. “Even your sister thinks you are mistaken.”

  “She frequently believes that,” Edward said. “Alright, Samantha, if you think Thomas is correct, then I will meet you at the center. Good luck.”

  Edward and Mrs. Hastings wandered down the left path. Thomas, Miss Hastings, and Miss Clemens followed the path to the right. Before they disappeared around the first corner, Edward and Mrs. Hastings waved pleasantly. Benjamin pursued them stealthily, following Thomas, Miss Clemens, and Miss Hastings down their trail. He remained out of sight, favoring the shadowy corners.

  Several meters down the path, a second split appeared. Miss Clemens and Miss Hastings each decided on a different course. Thomas found himself torn between the two women. He stood at the crossroad, his brow scrunched with indecision.

  “I think it best to wait here,” he stated finally. “Each of you can travel down your path and report back if you think the path will lead to the center.”

  After a brief discussion, Miss Clemens and Miss Hastings agreed to his plan. Nodding a quick farewell, each lady vanished around a nearby hedge, losing sight of Thomas immediately. Thomas called to Miss Clemens as she rounded a second bend and reminded her to remember the direction from which she came.

  Benjamin approached Thomas from behind and passed him, turning to greet his twin with a wave. Thomas inclined his head, bowing low. Saluting Benjamin, he headed down the path Miss Clemens selected without a word.

  Five minutes later, Miss Hastings turned her third corner and froze, her breath catching. She had heard his footsteps echoing from behind her. Whipping her head around, Miss Hastings spotted him hiding in the shadows and gasped. Light, emanating from lanterns hanging along the path, glinted off the black and white mask.

  “Mr. Reid, I thought you were planning to wait for Miss Clemens,” Miss Hastings managed, her hand flying to her chest. She took a deep, calming breath.

  Benjamin shook his head slowly. “I am not Mr. Reid.”

  Miss Hastings gulped and backed away, her progress stopped by a thick hedge wall. She looked around wildly, searching for a plausible escape route. Sidling to the side, she found an opening in the hedge and continued her shuffle backward. Her elbows scraped against another hedge wall; the opening led to a dead end.

  “Who are you then?” Miss Hastings demanded, her voice carried across the small alcove.

  “I am surprised Mr. Reid allowed you to wander off by yourself.” Benjamin took a large step forward, corralling Miss Hastings in the dead end.

  “He will be joining me shortly.” Miss Hastings lifted her chin, daring him.

  “I would prefer he did not interrupt our privacy. It is a rare occasion that I find myself alone with you, and I intend to take full advantage of the solitude,” Benjamin’s deep voice rumbled. He took a second step forward and removed his mask.

  “Benjamin!” Miss Hastings leapt into his open arms. He enveloped her tightly, the scent of honeysuckle wafting over him as she snuggled into his chest. The icy block in his stomach melted instantaneously. He drew her onto his lap as they sank onto an ornamentally carved wooden bench, one of three decorating the recess.

  “You look beautiful this evening.” He murmured against her hair, unwilling to loosen his embrace.

  Miss Hastings pulled away, stroking her hand down Benjamin’s face. Her gloved thumb brushed over his lips as if she feared he might disappear in front of her. “I missed you.”

  “And I, you,” he replied softly. Capturing her mouth with his, Benjamin thrust his tongue past her lips. Miss Hastings moaned, her fingers entwining themselves in his hair. He deepened the kiss, his body clenching, flooding with desire. Arching her back, she pulled him closer. Lifting her, he twisted her a quarter-turn until she straddled him, his arousal pressed between her legs. His lips caressed her fevered skin. Miss Hastings moaned again, grinding into him with urgency.

  “Benjamin.” Her passion-filled voice begged for release. Roughly, he pushed the hem of her dress up, pulling her hips against his erection.

  His fingers wandered over her thigh, intent on causing her to cry out his name. They worked through her underclothes, sliding across her center, and dipping inside. She cried out, her hips rolling against his fingers, which froze in their wicked ministrations. Benjamin jerked his head up. Footsteps crunched on the gravel walkway.

  “Someone is approaching,” he hissed, yanking Miss Hastings’ gown back into place. Reluctantly, he deposited her beside him on the bench, giving her a moment to collect herself. The delightful blush faded from her skin, cooled by the night air. His entire body protested in frustration.

  “Miss Clemens, since you have had much success this evening, I think it best to allow you to select the next direction.” Thomas’ cheerful voice carried through the hedge directly behind the bench.

  Benjamin looked at Miss Hastings and sighed with irritation. “Good evening, Thomas,” Benjamin called through the bushes.

  “Benjamin?” Thomas’ surprised voice came closer to the hedge. “Where is Miss Hastings?”

  “She is sitting next to me,” Benjamin replied with a final nuzzle against her neck as they rose from the bench.

  “Miss Hastings.” Thomas’ voice moved slightly. “Could it be that Benjamin is helping you cheat?”

  “How so, Mr. Reid? Is not Miss Clemens assisting you as well?” replied Miss Hastings with a grin.

  “Miss Clemens, it is a pleasure to see you again and so soon after our last meeting. May I say you are looking ravishing this evening?” A sneering voice joined the conversation. “How fortuitous I have found you wandering alone in this maze.”

  “She is not alone,” replied Thomas, gravel crunching under his boots as he moved toward the voice.

  “Indeed.” The drawled word oozed through the hedge. “Let us guess your name, shall we? You do not carry yourself as if you hold a title, therefore, you cannot be of great importance.”

  “Neither do you,” Thomas growled.

  This was rapidly turning into a dangerous situation.

  “Who is that?” Miss Hastings whispered. Benjamin shook his head. The voice sounded vaguely familiar; Benjamin had a nasty suspicion regarding the identity of its owner. And if it was Mr. Shirely, a fight was coming.

  The cool voice continued undeterred. “You seem intent on separating my betrothed from me.”

  Miss Clemens gasped. “Your offer was refused.”

  “Your mother has overruled your unfounded sentiments,” the voice blithely continued.

  “Mrs. Clemens disowned her daughter,” said Thomas. “She is no longer responsible for Miss Clemens. She is now under the care of Mrs. Stanton. It is Mrs. Stanton who determines Miss Clemens future.”

  “I am given to believe that situation will be corrected shortly.”

  “Mr. Shirely, I was unaware you possessed the ability to foresee the future.”

  “There are a great many things of which you are uninformed, Mr. Reid.” Mr. Shirely cracked his knuckles.

  “Miss Clemens will never be joined with your family,” replied Thomas.

  “I did not realize you had staked a claim to Miss Clemens.”

  “I have no privilege with her,” said Thomas, his tone sharp.

  “I am surprised by your attention to Miss Clemens’ welfare as you are not her fiancé, nor her guardian. I can only imagine what your true interest could be,” Mr. Shirely said.

  “Mr. Reid has remained a gentleman in all his interactions with me,” Miss Clemens’ soft voice replied.

  “Miss Clemens, since you do not know the reputation of Mr. Reid as well as me, you should hold your tongue. Unless you would like to hear of his exploits? It might lower your esteemed opinion of his good nature.”

  “He is still more of a gentleman than you, Mr. Shirely,
” replied Miss Clemens.

  “Mr. Reid, it appears you have a champion,” Mr. Shirely mocked, “And I believe I owe both of you an injustice.” A twig snapped behind him. “Gentlemen, I am pleased you finally joined me this evening. The man before you is attempting to prevent my union with this lovely lady.”

  Miss Hastings glanced at Benjamin her eyes wide with fear. “What can we do?”

  Without hesitation, Benjamin shoved his hands into the brambles and hauled himself to the top of the hedge and heaved himself over, landing with a soft grunt. Benjamin glanced around at the scene in front of him. On his right, Mr. Robert Shirely and three of his acquaintances blocked the path. On the opposite side stood Thomas—fists clenched—with Miss Clemens partially hidden behind him. Her pale face washed with relief at the sight of Benjamin.

  “The odds seem a bit unfair.” Benjamin’s menacing voice barely carried the distance between Mr. Shirely and himself.

  “Lord Westwood.” Mr. Shirely greeted him with a genial nod. “How wonderful you were able to attend our soiree. I heard you were away on business.”

  “My apologies for my unannounced appearance. I shall attempt to be more obliging next time you wish to assault my brother.”

  Mr. Shirely shrugged as he glanced at the men gathered next to him. “Do not worry, we will be more than pleased to accommodate both of you.”

  “What about all three of us?” Edward’s angry voice boomed from behind Miss Clemens. He and Mrs. Hastings approached quickly, Edward joining the rank between Thomas and Benjamin. Mrs. Hastings wrapped Miss Clemens in a tight embrace as they moved several steps away.

  Mr. Shirely blanched and took a step back. “Perhaps now is not the time for this discussion.”

  “Perhaps not,” Edward said, coldly.

  “Gentlemen, I am in need of some refreshment.” Mr. Shirely inclined his head, indicating a desire to retreat.

  “Mr. Shirley,” Thomas called as Mr. Shirely scooted backward. “You would do well to remember that Miss Clemens is now under the protection of both our families”—he gestured behind him—“any business you have with her must first be discussed with us.”