Mary’s brow furrowed, and she eyed her mother. “Why? Did she say something to you?” Blake pretended interest in the other conversation. Without thinking, she hit him in the shoulder. All the eyes in the room turned to her. “Uh, just a fly. Carry on.”
Blake’s eyes nailed her to her seat. “Just a fly?” He looked anywhere but at her. “You are surprisingly strong,” he whispered. He rubbed his arm discreetly the moment the subject of horses was brought up again.
Horses—one of Blake’s favorite subjects—and she wasn’t giving him a chance to participate. But why was he not telling her about what her mother said? “Blake Gunther. If you don’t tell me what my mother said, I am going to tell everyone in this room that you named your first horse True Love and kissed her after every ride.”
Blake did not so much as look at her, but his cheeks colored at the memory she’d recreated, and she knew she had won.
“Later,” he said through the side of his mouth.
“When?”
His head turned a subtle notch so his eyes were on her. “Wicked girl, pay attention to Lord Templeton before he thinks you are in love with me.”
Mary’s cheeks flamed for the second time after Lord Templeton witnessed her running down the stairs. She resisted smacking Blake’s arm again. No, she would save that for later.
“I heard you received a few guests this last week,” Lord Templeton said. “The vicar stopped by and shared the news about your daughter and asked I keep her in my prayers, which I will of course. Is there anything more I can do?”
Mary remembered Blake asking a similar question. But there was no way her mother would let Lord Templeton help with the children. He was practically a stranger.
“Your company is the best distraction you could give us,” Mother said. “Would you care to come to dinner tomorrow night? I know the others would be as pleased as I am.”
Lord Templeton glanced at Mary and smiled. “If you insist. I tire of dining alone in that great house.”
“Oh, yes,” Mary said. “You must come.” She said it with a touch of too much enthusiasm to make up for the lack of participation in the earlier conversation. Heaven forbid, Lord Templeton think she was uninterested. It would ruin her plan completely.
Lord Templeton made his excuses and said goodbye, with the promise to return the following night.
They all stood to see him off, but Mary turned to Blake before he could disappear. “At least stop in the nursery before you disappear.”
Blake turned to Lady Crawford. She gave him a quick nod and a sheepish smile. Blake put out his arm and Mary took it, though she’d rather hit him again. Once they were up the stairs, Blake pulled her arm closer in his and put his hand on hers. For a moment, Mary forgot to breathe. It was just like the other day when they’d played dragons. Blake had no idea what his touch did to her.
“I’m sorry I deserted you. I promise, I had every intention of helping.”
“Did you really?” Mary wanted to believe him, but she was skeptical about everything these days.
“Someone saw us on the lawn yesterday. You remember. When we fell down on the grass?”
Mary gasped. “And they told my mother.”
“Unfortunately, she was the someone who saw us.”
“My mother never thought twice about mishaps like that before my coming out.” Mary put her free hand up to rub her temple. “She didn’t breathe a word to me about it. Why would she speak to you and not to her own daughter?”
Blake stopped outside the nursery door. “There might be some rumors flying about me around certain circles.”
“Go on,” Mary encouraged.
“How do I put this?” Blake pulled at his cravat.
Mary reached up and tugged his hand away. “Stop, you’ll make a mess of it. Just tell me what everyone is saying about you. I have no doubt heard the rumors anyway. I am not as naive as you think.”
Blake stared at her. “What have you heard?”
“That you are an idiot,” Mary smiled coyly.
“Very funny. If I am to tell you anything, you must promise to believe what I tell you is the truth.”
His gaze unnerved her. She forced herself to focus. “I will be honest with my opinion, as always.”
“Ha,” he said, looking quite uncomfortable. “I would expect no less from you.” He tapped his foot a few times, then finally seemed ready to share. “Some have taken my flirtations and misconstrued them into … an act … of ungentlemanly proportions.”
“One could construe a great many conclusions with such vagueness. Let me guess, my mother is afraid you will now ruin me with your sullied reputation?”
“Lady Crawford trusts me more than I deserve, but she is careful, and her caution does her credit. She is right to want the best for you. I am certainly not the man she would imagine … uh, well you know.”
Mary wanted nothing more than to know his opinion of such an insinuation, but that would hardly be in her realm of courage. “Don’t take it too much to heart. My mother loves you like you are her own son, and she reprimands them too.” Then she paused. “Are the rumors true? I will know if you are lying.”
“Mary, no. I could never … well, you know my nature. I am not completely without morals. How can I help it if all the ladies are in love with me?”
Mary groaned and pulled away from Blake. “Your conceit is predictable.”
“If I am as predictable as you say, would you believe me capable of harming another woman?”
Mary thought about last Season and how Blake had broken her heart. “Physical harm, no. However, I have complete assurance you could crush a girl’s hopes and dreams.”
Blake followed Mary into the nursery. “How could you say that? I am a gentleman. I live by the same code of honor as your brothers.”
The children saw him and ran to hug his legs. He picked up Gloria with one arm and Claire with another. “I have missed my little princesses.”
“If you missed us, then why did you not come yesterday?” Gloria asked. Her little lips turned down into a pout, very much like her aunt’s.
“An evil sorceress forbade me from coming and locked me in a tower with two trolls.” Gloria’s eyes grew wide. “But a beautiful maiden rescued me from the throngs of despair and carried me all the way to your castle.”
“Aunt Mary carried you?” Gloria asked, her nose scrunched in confusion.
Mary shook her head. “He is much too bigheaded for me to carry anywhere.” Then she eyed Blake. “What would my mother say if she discovered you had called her a sorceress and thought my brothers trollish?”
Claire kept Blake from responding. “I can’t find my castle,” she complained.
Blake’s grin was lopsided. “Come on, Mary. Find the girls their castle.”
“Your castle is under the table.” Mary pulled Claire out of Blake’s arms and over to the table where Hannah sat knitting. “Sorry Hannah, it looks like we are intruding on your peace.”
“I want a castle too,” Gloria whined. “There aren’t any more tables, and I’m older. Make Claire move.”
Blake pulled out two chairs and quickly threw a blanket across the top. “There, problem solved.”
Mary sat down gingerly on the ground and situated her dress around her legs. It would be easy to pretend she was married to Blake and these were their children. In moments like this, she could see the good in Blake and understand why her heart could not let go. He looked over just then and gave her a teasing smile. For a moment, she could see worry in the back of his eyes. The self-assured man she knew never really worried. Did he? Was there more to the rumors than he was letting on? Mary believed Blake to be an insufferable flirt, but she also knew there was more depth than he let many see, like his loyalty to her family. Unfortunately, the older they grew, the more distant Blake became with his emotions. He was forever smiling like nothing ever got him down. She didn’t believe it for a moment.
Chapter 8
Blake arrived late to Banb
ury Castle the next afternoon. He wasn’t surprised to find Mary sitting in the garden on a blanket, sketching away with the girls by her side. He took his time walking to greet them, his mind spinning around with other things.
To his mother’s delight, he had accompanied her to call on two possible candidates for him to court only hours before. Miss Grover was easy enough to converse with, but he had absolutely no attraction to her. She was poor, and his mother repeated the sentiment over and over, reminding him that such a wife would not be equal company for regular visits with the earl and his family at Banbury. To marry without love, and to give up his friends at the same time, did not exactly motivate him.
The second visit was more promising. Blake had met Miss Cartwright before as a friend of Mary’s, but she’d been away at a finishing school for young ladies. Her flawless complexion and easy smile set her up to be a pleasant sort. By her parents’ esteem, he reasoned she would no doubt bring money to their marriage and had enough affluence already to circulate with those at Banbury.
“Mr. Gunther!” Gloria said, racing toward him with a small paper in her hand. “Look at my flower. Aunt Mary showed me how to draw one.”
Blake took the paper, surprised to see it actually resembled a flower. “Well done, Gloria.”
Mary didn’t look up as he crossed over to her. She was intent on her sketch. He leaned over, amazed as always to see her drawing so similar to its subject.
“You ought to try drawing your father some time. I should love to see his face again.”
“I thought you would sing the Mary Contrary song and ask me how my garden grows.”
“I was tempted, but I am already on your bad side.”
She suppressed a smile. “Come sit awhile. I will reward you by showing you one of my favorite sketches.”
He obeyed and sat on the corner of the blanket, pulling one leg up to support his arm.
Flipping back a few pages in her sketchbook, Mary stopped on an image that made Blake’s heart squeeze: a picture of the late earl and his wife dancing. The details were muted unlike the precise lines of her flowers, and the effect made the couple seem almost dream-like.
“He loved to dance with your mother.”
Mary sighed, tracing around her father’s face so as not to smudge it. “He put up such a fuss about every ball that no one would have believed it unless they saw it with their own eyes.”
“I’ve never seen two people more in love.”
Mary turned and her eyes connected with his for the first time that day. “Nor I. Do you think you will ever feel that way about someone?”
Blake blanched. He had not expected such a question. Luckily, Opal took an opportunity to pull Claire’s hair at that moment. He rescued Claire, and Mary scooped up Opal. Claire snuggled up against him, pulling a satisfied grin to his mouth. Now the question seemed easy to answer. “I think I could feel the same way your father did when I look at these children. I would do anything for them. Look at how Claire clings to me. She is smitten. I daresay we will be married before twenty years have passed.”
Mary rolled her eyes. “She does the same thing when my brothers or I hold her. I gather most three-year-old children find comfort in hugs.”
Opal pulled out of Mary’s arms to pursue a butterfly. Claire saw it and jumped out of his arms to follow.
“Don’t chase it!” Gloria yelled. “I want to draw it.” The young girl sighed and dropped her paper to follow her sisters.
Mary picked up her sketchbook again and flipped to a new page.
Blake stretched out his long legs on the blanket, settling comfortably next to Mary again. He looked over to see her outlining a rough shape of a head and shoulders. “Who are you drawing now?”
“Perhaps you could guess in a moment or two.”
He watched her work for a minute, impressed by her honed skill. “Have you showed your mother the picture of her and your father dancing?”
“No. You know I don’t like to share my sketches with anyone.”
“I never understood that.” Though she would not share them with others, he appreciated the special privilege of seeing her art.
“There is so much pressure already to be exactly one way. I want one area of my life to be without censure or comparison.”
“Your mother could only ever appreciate your talent.”
Mary shrugged. “Maybe, but then she would want me to show everyone, and I cannot guarantee that someone else won’t have an opinion. Besides, many of my drawings feel sacred. It’s like putting a piece of my heart on paper.”
No one was more passionate than Mary. Whatever she did, she did it with heart. Including when she decided to hate him.
“Why are you smiling at me like that?”
“I was just wondering what other sketches are in that book. Not even I have seen them all.”
“You are lucky I have shown you any of them at all.”
“I am the one who taught you to sketch.”
“Yes, well, that was ages ago.” She bent back over her drawing, shading the face and adding details to the cheekbones.
“Is that … ?”
“Yes.”
“Why would you draw Lord Templeton? Don’t tell me he has captured your fancy. I did wonder the last time we saw him.”
“And why not?” Mary asked, turning to face him again. She leaned back on one hand and smiled like she knew something he didn’t. “Terrance said I made quite the impression on him. Just this morning, he sent flowers.”
Gunther’s smile wavered, but he pulled it tight. “I don’t know why I didn’t see it before. You two would make a smashing couple.”
She grinned.
Well, that had been his test and she either was an excellent actress or truly was interested in Lord Templeton. The Mary he knew would not just throw herself at a man.
“Where is my portrait?”
Mary blinked and then snorted. Her laugh bubbled out so quickly, it took him off guard.
“What? Is my irresistible charm and good nature too magnanimous for you to encapsulate in a portrait?”
“Oh, I think I could manage.” Mary wiped an amused tear from her eye.
“Have you attempted one already?” This he had to know. If Mary gave him one little inkling that she was interested in him, then he would never let Lord Templeton step foot on Banbury grounds again. He might even risk the wrath of her brothers.
What was he saying? Mary had some strange power over him. It was normal for him to forget himself if he stayed too long in her presence. Miss Cartwright was a safer, more predictable choice.
“I have, actually.”
Her eyes were teasing him now and he couldn’t resist leaning his head closer. “Truly?”
She blushed and nodded. “It wasn’t your best side.”
His eyebrows rose. “Oh, so this was commissioned in anger.”
“I didn’t think it fair for you to chase after Miss Bliss when you didn’t even know her.”
“Ah, the reason for your anger when I arrived home from Rosewood Park.”
“Only part of it.” Her smile all but disappeared. “Why did you even go? You couldn’t possibly have loved her after such a short acquaintance.”
Picking at a thread on the blanket, Blake thought how best to answer her. Deep down, he knew that Miss Bliss was another Miss Cartwright. A fleeting fancy. Someone he felt safe to think about but would never really be able to commit to. “My head was turned. Surely you understand that with your recent feelings for Lord Templeton”
Her head dipped down.
“I confess,” he continued, “that part of me wanted to protect Anton from getting his heart broken. Looks like I needed to protect him from Terrance, not Miss Bliss.”
Mary shrugged. “I thought you cared for someone else before you left.”
“Me?” Blake chuckled. “Who did you pin me with? I am a harmless flirt and no more. If I tease a smile from a lonely young woman, the ton has me pegged for the father of her childre
n. It’s a good thing I am not returning for a London Season until I am married.”
A gasp of disbelief emitted from Mary’s mouth.
“It’s true,” Blake said. “I am to be married soon. Aren’t you going to congratulate me?”
She leaned back on both hands. “You had me there for a moment.”
Blake decided not to press the issue. He was enjoying their easy comradery and bringing up Miss Cartwright would ruin their time together. Sitting next to Mary with the girls entertaining themselves was his idea of a perfect afternoon. Tomorrow, he would remind himself once more that entertaining ideas of Mary was absurd. He didn’t need a woman to make him happy, just one to give him back his freedom. Lord Templeton was Mary’s equal, not him.
Chapter 9
“Tomorrow night Lord Templeton will join us for a farewell dinner for Terrance.”
Mary sighed. “Yes, Mama.”
“What is bothering you?” Lady Crawford asked, looking up from her dressing table. “I thought you found Lord Templeton to be as amiable as I do.”
“There is nothing wrong with Lord Templeton. He is perfect,” Mary reasoned in an attempt to convince herself. As much as she tried, she could not push her recent time with Blake to the back of her mind. And now Terrance—her greatest ally—was abandoning her. “I am simply thinking of how hard it will be to have Terrance leave.” She couldn’t bear two such sad conclusions in her mind at the same time.
“I confess, I do not like to think of your brother so far from us.”
“Then why does he have to go?” Mary hated thinking of everything changing again. They were just finding their new normal after father’s death. “Why can’t we continue just as we are?”
“It’s the natural way of life for a man and woman to leave their parents and start a new life together. It will be your turn soon enough.”
“I don’t want to marry if it means saying goodbye to you and my brothers and moving far away.”
“I dread the idea of you leaving us too, but when you fall in love, you will see that it’s a small sacrifice to make in order to form a new family.” Her mother stared at Mary for a moment. Then she turned to her maid. “That will be all, Rachel.” When Rachel closed the door, her mother stood and pulled Mary to a pair of chairs by her window. “There is something I have been meaning to speak to you about.”
Lady Mary Contrary: Regency Ever After book 2 Page 4
