An Unwelcome Suitor (Entangled Inheritance Book 4)

by Ashtyn Newbold

  I joined in the laughter, bending down as if to share a secret with Maryann and Charlotte. “Considering how large the grounds of Brookhaven are, I suspect we could find many snakes with which to execute such a plan after you move there.”

  The girls exchanged an excited glance. The sound of Luke’s deep laughter recalled my attention, and I straightened my posture. “I see I have found myself at least two accomplices, should you ever give me reason to sabotage you again.”

  He shook his head with a mock frown, looking down at Maryann. “Do you truly intend to join Miss Elizabeth’s wicked schemes?”

  She giggled before nodding. “Yes.”

  Luke bent over and scooped Maryann up, holding her over his shoulder. She thrashed and giggled while he poked her sides. “I might have to cook you into the stew if you say that again.” He started carrying her toward the stove, and her giggles grew hysterical.

  My amusement with the situation might have been greater if I hadn’t been so surprised. I could never have imagined Luke as such a playful, lighthearted older brother. This was an entirely new side of him, one that caused my heart to skip with admiration. By the look on Martha’s face, her surprise exceeded mine. Her mouth hung open as she observed Luke set Maryann safely on the ground near her older sisters.

  His smiling face turned back toward us, and I couldn’t help but stare.

  “I see you have already met Charlotte and Maryann,” Luke said. “Allow me to introduce you to Betsey.” He gestured at the eldest sister, who broke up her stirring with a brief nod in our direction before returning to the stew with a serious expression. “And Rose.” The younger girl beside Betsey flashed a shy smile in our direction before her sister demanded her help with some herbs.

  “It is a pleasure to meet you both. How may we help with dinner?” I likely would not be a great asset in preparing food, as I had little experience with it, but I could not stand by and watch.

  Betsey turned halfway toward me, her posture indicating her irritation in having to do so. “I do not need help.”

  I took a minuscule step away from her hard expression. “If you are certain.” What had I done to earn her glare? She must not have found toads as amusing as her younger sisters.

  Luke motioned for Martha and me to follow him to the table, offering each of us a chair. I found myself wishing I had brought some food from Brookhaven’s kitchens to contribute to the meal, seeing how they did not even employ a cook, and their food supply did not appear to be in abundance. I had not known physicians to be subjected to such lowly livings. I did know that there were already two other physicians in the area that had been in practice much longer than Luke had. It seemed he lacked the number of well-paying patients that could provide a better living for him and his sisters, given the competition of the other two established physicians.

  Luke sat down across the table, and it reminded me of the day I had been forced to read that fake love letter to him. My cheeks burned at the reminder of my stupidity. I glanced around the room at anything but him.

  “I know the home is small,” he said in a quiet voice. “But it serves us well enough for now.”

  He must have noticed me looking around at the room. I directed my gaze back to him. “Have our great-aunt’s recommendations brought you more patients?”

  “Some, but not many. If not for the opportunity she gave us to live at Brookhaven, I would have rented a home in a different town. Work is scarce here. The majority of people are either remarkably healthy or committed to their current physicians.” He smiled, resting his forearms on the table. “Our mother worked at a household just a half mile east, so we were able to see her often living here, and that is why we stayed. After she died, I began looking for a new place to live to find more work.” He lowered his voice. “My sister’s were upset at the idea of leaving. When your great-aunt’s will was read, we were given a new chance.”

  “You all deserve all that she has given you.” I had spent the last several weeks with ill feelings toward Aunt Augusta and what she had done. The wisdom in her decision was now becoming clear. Luke had confided his misfortunes in her, and she had stepped up to help. She had seen the marriage requirement as a way to allow all the people she cared for a chance to live in such a grand, beautiful home. I could not blame her for being unaware of Juliana’s love for Gilbert. Had she known, she would have taken that into consideration—had she known, she might have required me to marry Luke instead.

  The thought settled in my chest, very near to my heart. The ache and longing that accompanied it shocked me. I pushed it away, burying desire beneath duty until I couldn’t find it anymore. That was not the way the will had been written and there was nothing I could do to change that. I could not wish to marry Luke. The very idea was absurd and uncalled for. He had become a friend with a common goal, and that was all. The common goal, of course, was to help Juliana fall in love with him.

  “Just yesterday you said I was deserving of love, and now you say I am deserving of a grand living,” Luke said. “You might grant me worthiness of the throne of England before the day is out.” He cocked an eyebrow at me in his teasing way.

  He is Juliana’s, he is Juliana’s, he is Juliana’s.

  “If you continue to beg for my good opinion, then I will put snakes in your boots.”

  He dipped his head and chuckled.

  At the mention of snakes, Maryann and Charlotte joined us at the table, staring across to me as if waiting for an exciting tale to spill from my lips. Luke took the task of entertaining them instead, telling them a story about their father, a man they were too young to remember.

  If only Juliana could see Luke here with his sisters. Her decision would be made even easier knowing how many people she was truly helping by entering into that marriage. I could still sense the way it burdened her. The moment she met Luke’s sisters, I did not doubt she would take great comfort. Why had Luke kept it all a secret?

  I stared at him, at every feature, trying to solve the puzzle that he was. When his gaze landed on me, I abandoned the effort, embarrassed to have been caught in my study.

  The meal was served moments later. Betsey took a seat beside Luke, and Rose sat in the chair beside Martha. I had a clear view of Maryann and Charlotte from where I sat, on the other side of Luke. They lapped up their soup without the manners I had been schooled to perfect in my youth, and I caught their eldest sister’s disdain as she watched their display. Betsey ate her soup with impressive decorum. Each time she brought the spoon to her mouth, she took great care not to slurp it like her sisters.

  Throughout the meal, I discovered that Maryann enjoyed drawing, Rose enjoyed riding their horse, Charlotte enjoyed baking, and Betsey enjoyed staring daggers at me.

  By the time it was over, I felt acutely uneasy, shifting in my chair. I hadn’t determined what I had done to earn Betsey’s immediate hatred, but I could still sense the envy in every glance she cast at my neat mourning dress, and the way she hid the time-worn sleeves of hers under the table.

  Betsey stood to clear the dishes. I gathered mine and Martha’s before she could, taking them to the wash bin. Betsey huffed a breath as I walked beside her. In the hopes of combatting her annoyance, I offered a polite smile. “Thank you very much for such a delicious meal.”

  She turned toward me with an inquisitive brow, one still marred with a scowl. “Surely it did not compare to the meals at Brookhaven.”

  “Oh, it was every bit as delicious as our cook’s stew. In fact, I think it may have been even better.”

  Betsey did not seem to take pride in that fact. Her upper lip curled in vexation as she set down the dishes. Not wanting her to dread the food at her new home, I added, “But of course, our cook has an acclaimed talent for preparing other wonderful foods. She once even prepared an exotic meal just by a description given to her by a visiting gentleman who had recently returned from India.”

  Betsey’s mouth flattened into a firm line, her jaw tightening. Did she not look forwar
d to living at Brookhaven? How could she dread moving to such a grand home? She rolled up her sleeves to begin washing, her hair falling about her face in long, straight chunks.

  “Do you have many friends living nearby?”

  She shook her head.

  “Perhaps you and I could be friends.”

  She glanced at me from the side of her eyes, giving me the indication that I had just suggested she dive head first into the wash bin. She took to ignoring me again, and we both washed dishes in silence.

  “I am very sorry about your mother,” I said in a soft voice.

  Her back stiffened, and she cast me a sharp look. I could see the broken pieces reflecting in her eyes, the ones she worked hard to hide. In that moment, she appeared much like Juliana had after our parents had died, hiding her grief for the sakes of her younger sisters.

  I helped her wash the dishes in silence for several minutes before Charlotte and Luke joined us. Martha remained at the table with Rose and Maryann, who seemed to refuse to let Martha leave, demanding detailed descriptions of Brookhaven’s gardens. As it was Martha’s favorite topic, she had no trouble fulfilling the girls’ request.

  When we finished washing, I dried my wrinkled hands. Luke returned to the table and I regarded Betsey again, unable to hold back my words. “You are a very strong, brave girl. Your sisters are very fortunate to have you to look after them.”

  “I know.” Her nostrils flared as she drew in a breath. Was it bitterness I saw in her eyes? Regret? She dried her hands without another word.

  “Miss Elizabeth, Miss Elizabeth!” Maryann’s small voice called from the other side of the kitchen. She bounced on her toes, holding Luke’s hand with both of hers. “Will you come outside with us?” Charlotte and Rose waited beside her. My immediate answer would have been yes, if not for the glint of amusement in Luke’s eye.

  I joined them by the table. “What would you like to do outside?”

  The loose hair that hung about her face lifted on her cheeks when she grinned. “We are going to play blind man’s bluff.”

  Chapter 18

  Although I had never played the parlor game, and certainly not played it outside, I knew the rules. One person was to be blindfolded. The blindfolded player was required to spin in place while the others dispersed and found places to hide. The blindfolded person was then challenged to find all the others, who must remain in their current places once the search began. The blind man must then guess their identities without looking.

  Nothing sounded worse, especially with Luke involved in the game. “Oh, I am not very skilled at parlor games,” I said.

  Martha did not hesitate to betray me. “You have never played blind man’s bluff.”

  “That is true, but—”

  Rose’s lower lip stuck out. “Please, please play with us Miss Elizabeth.” She was simply too adorable. I could not refuse these girls a night of fun and frivolity when they had endured so much recent heartache. Luke contributed a cajoling smile, and I could no longer refuse.

  “Very well, I will.”

  The three girls cheered, bringing an unreserved smile to my face.

  “Betsey, come play too!” Charlotte said, waving her eldest sister toward the hallway. Betsey appeared even more reluctant than me, but she eventually agreed, following us toward the back of the cottage, where a door led to a small lawn. Trees lined the back of the property, giving way to thick woods. A short fence and two long garden beds were on the right. Three chairs were set up beneath the shade of the largest tree, and various shrubs and bushes encircled the lawn. The sun had lowered in the sky, but was still at least an hour from setting completely.

  Before he said a word, I felt Luke’s presence beside me, warm and comfortable. “Who should be the first blind man?”

  “You’re the only man,” Charlotte said with a giggle. “We are all girls.”

  Luke cocked his head to one side, rubbing his jaw. “I suppose you are right. Very well, I will be the blind man.”

  Rose held the black blindfold, extending it up to Luke to tie over his eyes. I scanned my surroundings for what could be a suitable place to hide. The trees were the obvious choice, but before I could think of another idea, he began spinning in a circle, counting in a loud voice, “One, two, three…”

  I scurried away as quickly as possible, dashing toward the trees. I didn’t quite make it before Luke shouted “Stop!”

  Neither Rose nor Maryann had found a place to hide in time. They stood on the open grass much closer to Luke than I was, their lips clamped shut to avoid being detected. Martha and Charlotte stood near the rose bushes, but I did not see Betsey anywhere. Everyone was silent. I supposed this was how the game always began, until the players became bored and began making sounds to draw the blind man to their location. A girlish excitement lit up inside me as Luke began walking with his arms outstretched. He would never find me here.

  “Please tell me if I am about to stumble over something,” Luke said around a laugh.

  My grin stretched over my entire face as I watched him take each tentative step closer to Maryann, who had taken to covering her mouth to hide her giggles. The sounds still escaped enough to betray her location. Luke touched her arm, her shoulders, then her head. “This must be Maryann.”

  “How did you know?” she shrieked. Another fit of giggles shook her tiny frame.

  “You are the smallest,” he said.

  I watched with delight as he found Rose, who apparently felt left out, and had begun humming. He correctly guessed her identity as well. When he found Charlotte, he hesitated, guessing wrong by assuming she was Betsey. He chose the correct answer on his second guess.

  Martha stood approximately five feet away from where Charlotte had been, but Luke turned in the opposite direction. Her shoulders drooped with relief. I met her eyes from my place at the edge of the trees, her expression filled with the same excitement I felt. When I returned my attention to Luke, my heart jumped. He was walking in my direction.

  He stumbled over a root, tripping a pace before regaining his footing. “Devil take it,” he muttered. Laughter wracked my insides, but I didn’t let it escape, covering my mouth to stifle it, just like Maryann had done. Luke looked so ridiculous, walking with his arms outstretched and his back rounded, braced for a fall at any moment. I shifted back a step before remembering that I was not allowed to move and that the rustling grass would not help conceal my location.

  I held my breath as he walked within feet of where I stood, my body still shaking with suppressed laughter. Surely he could hear the squeaks that escaped my nose as a result. A grin touched his lips as he changed his course, coming straight for me.

  A sudden surge of fear struck my chest as I considered the impropriety of such a game. There was no telling where his hands would land. I supposed that was half the fun of a game like this when played in parlors with young, featherbrained men and women. There was no avoiding being caught. His hands were inches from me. His fingers brushed my sleeve, and he took hold of my right elbow, then my left. “Hmm, who do I have here?”

  My first instinct was to wrestle my arms from his and run across the lawn. But it took all my energy not to burst into laughter and reveal my identity. The three girls that had already been caught stood together in the middle of the lawn, watching with wide eyes and continued giggles.

  I held perfectly still, concentrating on Luke’s face, at least what I could see of it, taking the moment to study him undetected. His smiling cheeks and solid jaw, freshly shaven, with that slight indentation in his chin. His hair matched the dark blindfold, and even with it, his expressive eyebrows peeked above the fabric, indicating his continued amusement with the game. I had never thought his face would become so familiar, but his features were etched in my mind, whether I liked that fact or not.

  He was standing so close. His proximity made it so I could hear every inhale, see the rise and fall of his chest, even feel his exhales rustle my hair like a breeze. I was grateful I could not
see his piercing eyes at a time like this. I calmed the laughter that surged inside me, focusing on keeping my breathing quiet. His hands moved up my arms, his fingers rubbing the fine silk fabric of my sleeves. The fine fabric alone should have indicated that my identity was either my own, or Martha’s, but he still seemed unsure.

  My heart barreled against my ribs as his fingers brushed my neck before finding the tight curls at the base of it. My skin tingled with heat. Did he know it was me? Martha had curls too. Please let him guess correctly. I was tempted to let my laughter be heard so he would stop touching me, but at the moment, laughter had completely deserted me.

  His smile had been replaced with a look of deep concentration, his lips pressed together as he touched my face. He must have felt the warmth from my blush. That would have easily given me away. Or perhaps he could hear the hammering of my pulse. He brushed away the curls framing my face before shifting his fingers lower. He traced the line of my cheek, my chin. His knuckles brushed against my lips. My inhale came too sharply, but I could not help my reaction.

  He had not touched the others this way. These were not the swift, concise examinations of a physician. I had a dreadful suspicion that if I could see his eyes at that moment, I would have found a sea of emotions. My own chest was constricted by emotions of my own. I did not want to hear the things they were telling me.

  Each second that passed contained an eternity before he lowered his hand. A smile returned to his face, giving me permission to breathe again.

  “Elizabeth,” he said.

  He did not phrase my name like a question, but a certain statement. I had not expected to feel so relieved at his success. I tried to draw laughter from my lungs, but the effort was futile. “How did you know?” I tried to make my voice sound unaffected by his closeness.

  “You smell of roses.” His smile tipped sideways before he turned and walked away.