Enchanted by a Lady's Talent: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Abigail Agar

  “Ah, yes, well, there is more to it than that, Pippa. But if you really think you could like him, I promise to at least consider it. I cannot say whether or not it is going to work, but I shall think on it,” her mother said.

  That was really all she needed to hear. Pippa did not wish for either option, but she felt completely stuck in her circumstances.

  All she wanted was to be told that it had all been a mistake, that Mr. Brooks did care for her and he had not lied to her.

  But that was far too much to hope for.

  Chapter 30

  Doyle sighed and stared out the window for a long while. Whatever he had done to break the bonds of trust with Miss Blackwell, it had finally caught up to him. Even though he had no intention of betraying her now, it was all too late. She had already given up on him.

  He would have given anything to undo the damage. Still, however, Doyle was not sure exactly what had happened. Why had she made this decision to push him away?

  He could not help but be depressed about it. Being jilted by Miss Blackwell had been the worst thing to ever happen to Doyle. He couldn't bear to think about being separated from her. Would they never again work on a book together? Would he never see her again?

  There was a little bird outside the window, hopping in the grass. Doyle watched it, noting that it looked nearly identical to the one Miss Blackwell had helped. For a moment, he even allowed himself to believe that it was the same bird. It felt so much better to believe that. It was wonderful to consider the possibility that this little bird was the very same one he had passed by on the day she’d rescued it, fixing its wing and setting it free.

  Thinking back to that moment only served to increase his sadness. How could he accept that she was gone? How could he ever look at a little bird again and simply see a flying beast? In his mind's eye, he would always see the look on her face as she explained the rescue which had taken place.

  What about the next time he saw a deer? Would he even be able to stop himself from openly weeping? What a fool he had become! It was tragic that he should be so weak. And yet, this what precisely what she had done to him.

  Doyle did not know what to do about the book now. They were going to begin printing the following day and publication was rushed for a week after. It was supposed to be a grand, exciting time. Instead, Doyle realised, it was going to be confusing and upsetting. There was nothing he could do to fix matters, but even if he tried, she was unlikely to so much as tell him why she was upset.

  “Doyle?” came the distant sound of his sister's voice. Doyle turned and saw Clarissa standing there, right before him, looking as though she had been trying to get his attention for quite some time.

  "Oh, Clarissa, hello. How long have you been standing there for?"

  "Good heavens, what is the matter with you? I have been here for easily five minutes, talking to you. You did not hear a word of it?" she asked.

  “I am dreadfully sorry, Clarissa, but I did not. You know me. My head is in the clouds, nearly all the time. I was…distracted.”

  “By what?”

  "Well, I have had a difficult day. Anyway, it does not matter,” he told her.

  "You are clearly lying. I know what this is about. It has something to do with Miss Blackwell, of course. You love her more than I ever thought you could love anyone. Anyway, whether you love her or not, you made a grand mistake and now you must pay the consequences."

  “Please, Clarissa, you must stop. I am just trying to forget and move on,” he shrugged, trying to remain neutral.

  “No, you are not trying to forget anything. You are moping, living in the sadness of what has taken place and the grief of separation from the woman you have come to love. Do not tell me—do not pretend—that you can move on from this. I know what love is, Doyle. I understand that it can be reckless and cruel, just as it can be beautiful and magnificent. You must not pretend that you are any different from others who face the same dilemma, learning whether or not they really can understand love and grasp hold of it,” she said.

  “So, what am I to do? Do you think this is meant to be easy? Do you believe that I can simply move on as if there is nothing at all wrong?” he asked.

  “I do not think that at all, but I do believe that you should get some air. You prefer to be outside when you are upset. Look at you, you are not even trying to read or do something calming. Go outside, Doyle. Get some air and get a bit of rest,” she instructed.

  Doyle nodded, understanding exactly what his sister was saying and how right she was. He needed to go out.

  “All right, I shall do that, but I want you to remember that I am not doing it simply because you are telling me to. I am doing it because you are right, and I cannot pretend that I do not care. My heart is broken, and I cannot even find out why she will not speak to me,” he said.

  “I know, but you are not going to feel better in here,” she said.

  Doyle stood up and they left his house together. Clarissa intended to get back to her own home, but he saw the hesitancy in her face before she departed.

  “Are you quite certain that you will be all right?” she asked.

  “I am. You need not worry about me. I shall be perfectly fine,” Doyle said.

  She looked at him dubiously, as if she could tell that he was lying, but gave him a quick hug and looked in the opposite direction, toward her own home.

  “If you need anything at all, do not hesitate to come to me. James and I care for you, deeply. He wanted to come and check on you, but I insisted that it should be me. Do not make me regret leaving, Doyle,” she said.

  “I am fine, honestly,” he repeated, still lying.

  Clarissa left and Doyle started walking, hoping that his sister was right, and the fresh air would help to clear his mind. Within about half an hour of walking, he had reached the streets of the city and began wandering through, past a cobbler, a milliner, and a bakery. He inhaled the scents of freshly baked bread and leather. He heard the noise of the children who complained that their mothers wanted to look for new hats or ribbons.

  None of it could distract him from the woman who was now missing from his life.

  But just as Doyle was ready to give up and return home, he saw Miss White across the way.

  His heart leapt. Even if he were not seeing Miss Blackwell, at least her friend could give him some answers. She could be the one to reveal whatever it was that had happened to cause this rift between he and Miss Blackwell. He rushed across the street to stop Miss White from going any further.

  “Miss White! Miss White!” he called.

  She turned and immediately frowned upon seeing him there. Clearly, this was going to be a difficult task, trying to get her to speak with him, but Doyle was unwilling to give up. He needed to find out the truth and would not step back for even a moment to consider anything else.

  “Miss White, please, wait!” he cried out, catching up to her.

  With her head held high, she stopped, but would not look at him directly.

  “What is it that you want from me?”

  “I want to know what has happened and why Miss Blackwell is so angry with me. What have I done? Why has she pushed me away?” he asked.

  “You really do not know?” Miss White scoffed. “You are such a fool. I cannot believe that you would try to stop me as I am walking and ask me this. What is the matter with you? Why would you pretend that you have no idea what has happened when it is quite plain?”

  Doyle stood there, completely bewildered. He still couldn’t figure it out. She was mad at him, but he had pushed aside the only offenses he ever had planned. They had made peace over the issues which they had faced early in the time they had gotten to know one another.

  “Please, Miss White, I honestly do not know. I have done nothing to harm her, not since we first met and I was an arrogant…well, you know what I was like. But she had forgiven me for all of that. We were becoming…friends,” he said haltingly.

  “Friends? Friends do not lie
to one another. They do not steal credit for something which they did not do. They do not pretend to be willing to share such credit and then take it away again,” she spat.

  “What? What are you talking about?”

  Doyle was genuinely confused. So much had happened since his earlier plans that he had forgotten them entirely. Now that Miss White was saying these things, however, he suddenly had an awful, sinking suspicion that she had learned about his earlier plans for deception.

  “Pippa knows the truth, Mr. Brooks. She knows what you are going to do,” she said.

  “What I am going to do? No, no, I do not know what she has heard, but I have nothing but the best intentions,” he promised.

  “Hardly! She figured it out. You cannot continue to pretend. She is not the fool you have made her out to be. I understand that men like you, with all of your arrogance and greed, believe that young ladies are too ignorant to understand when we have been mistreated, but she is a very intelligent woman and you have made a grievous error,” Miss White snapped.

  “I hold her in the highest regard, Miss White. Honestly, I have the utmost respect for her and would never harm her. As I said, I was a fool before, but I have never considered her to be one. I know that I made a mistake, but I—”

  “Enough, Mr. Brooks! You did make a mistake; you are correct about that. You have made a terrible, dreadful mistake and you actually believed that Pippa was going to simply go along with it and not stand up for herself, but now she knows the truth,” she said.

  “I—”

  “No! No, this is not about you any longer. This is about my dearest friend in all the world. You tried to trick her, to steal from her. You lied and you did not even give a thought as to the consequences of it. Well, now, you are being faced with those consequences. She is finished with you. Do whatever you want with that book, but it is going to be the last shred of memory you shall ever have of Pippa,” she growled through clenched teeth, still glaring at him with venom in her eyes.

  With that, Miss White turned away from him.

  “Wait! Please, you must listen. I can explain,” he called to her.

  “She knows you are not going to give her credit. There is nothing to explain,” she hissed back before rushing away from him.

  “Please! Just let me explain. It is not what you think,” he begged.

  However, it was too late. She was already gone, rushing into the crowds at the end of the street. For a moment, Doyle considered continuing to quickly go after her, maybe grasping her arm and forcing her to stay put and listen to him. But the idea of that was not only scandalous, but far too aggressive for his taste. He was not that sort of man and there was nothing that he could reasonably do in that moment to stop Miss White from departing.

  Now, everything made sense. He finally understood why Miss Blackwell had been angry at him, and why she had refused to speak with him anymore. He could hardly blame her. She knew only a part of the story—the part which shamed him deeply.

  He ought to have told her sooner. That would have made it all at least a little bit better. Then she would have heard from him as opposed to figuring it out on her own and having to accept that she had been betrayed when he no longer had any intention of betraying her.

  The horrible cruelty that Doyle had planned was no longer a matter of his need for self-preservation as it had once been. He was no longer blinded by the worry of his shop failing. Now, he just wanted her. He wanted to have Miss Blackwell in his life and nothing else mattered so much as that did.

  If his shop failed, it failed. But his love for her? That was more potent than any word on any page could ever be.

  Chapter 31

  Fiona came running up to Pippa as she sat outside in the gardens behind the house. She was confused to see her friend coming at her like this but was certain that it was something important.

  “Pippa! Pippa, I must speak with you at once,” Fiona said.

  “What is it? Are you all right? What has happened?”

  Pippa was surprised to see Fiona running like that. She was out of breath by the time she reached Pippa and had to sit beside her on the stone bench and breathe for a few moments before she could speak.

  “Are you all right?” Pippa asked her again.

  “Yes, yes. I am fine. I was in town and I heard someone calling my name. It was Mr. Brooks,” she said.

  Pippa’s heart flipped in that cruel way it always did when she thought about Mr. Brooks. She wished that she could be near him again but hated that desire with every bit of passion in her soul. The last thing she needed was to care for him as deeply as she had all this time. He was a dreadful man, or so she had to try and remain convinced despite the part of her that simply wanted to forgive him and move on together.

  “I see. Well, you need not say another word. I am sorry that you had to face him. I do hope that he shall never again accost you in public like that,” Pippa said.

  “That is just it, Pippa. He…he was nice. He was gentle. And there was something about his expression. I cannot quite pinpoint it, but it really appeared as though he did not know what I was so upset about. Of course, I had to explain. I told him that we are furious with him over what he’d done,” Fiona told her.

  “Yes, I understand. It is good that you told him. He needs to know why I am angry. If he had not already figured it out, someone had to tell him.”.

  “Indeed, I thought the same thing. Oh, you should have seen his face. He was…desperate. He was so upset, saddened by it all. He kept asking me to give him a chance to explain, but I could not,” Fiona explained.

  “He wanted to explain? How could he possibly explain something like that? What sort of man is he that he believes there is an excuse?”

  “I wondered the exact same thing, but then, as I as running here, I got to thinking,” Fiona said.

  “Oh? What are you thinking?” Pippa dubiously asked.

  “Well, what if he really did have an explanation? Maybe something happened? I do not know, but I feel as though I ought to have given him a chance. Honestly, you do deserve an explanation and I was in just the right position to get one on your behalf. If I had been clever enough to give him that chance to say it, I would have. I wish now that I had not been in such an angry rush to get away from him,” Fiona said.

  She clearly regretted not listening to his explanation. Pippa understood that, but she also understood why Fiona had stormed off. After all, if the rules have been reversed, she would have left as well. She would not have spent time with someone who had wounded her friend so deeply.

  Still, Pippa did find herself wondering. What was it? What reason could he possibly have that would lead him to desperately want to explain himself? Did he have a reasonable excuse? Was there something which had taken place to lead him to his decision? Was it something that she could forgive?

  Pippa could not imagine it. If he had planned to steal her work despite the lie that they would share the credit, there could be no excuse for that. Whatever his reasoning, it could not be worth her very heart. He clearly did not respect her or care about how hard she had worked on the book, even before they had met one another.

  “I am so sorry, Pippa,” Fiona said.

  “You have no reason to be sorry. He is the one who must be sorry. He has apologised, I know, but I cannot get over what he intended to do,” she said.

  “And you do not think that, perhaps, he did have a real reason? Maybe if I had listened to his explanation, we would have been able to put all of this behind us. Perhaps you and Mr. Brooks would be able to live happily together as you had hoped for,” she said.