Alister nodded sympathetically and cast a glance in Mrs Wilson’s direction before gathering her hand to his lips for a brief kiss. ‘I understand completely. And now that Peg is finally out of the way, I see no reason for us to delay our future any longer.’
‘Finally?’ she said, her loving smile slipping for a moment.
‘Well,’ Alister said, adding a sound somewhere between a laugh and a huff of disapproval. ‘Though one can hardly condone her unfortunate choice in husband, it is a relief to see her settled somewhere.’
Liv managed a response in a voice that was ever so slightly tight at the edges. ‘She does not think it unfortunate, I am sure. My brother allows me no contact with her, since he thinks she will be a bad influence on me, but from what little he has let slip about her, she and Mr Castell are quite happily married.’
‘And I suspect he is still a newspaper reporter,’ Alister replied, his voice equally tight. ‘Not the best connection she could have made, and it does your family no credit. But if she is happy, then that is something, I suppose.’ He wrinkled his nose as if her sister’s joy had the stench of the unwashed lower classes.
‘She is much better off than she was when living under Hugh’s thumb,’ Liv insisted. ‘It was intolerable.’
‘Then she will not be tempted to return to Scofield House with her tail between her legs, seeking forgiveness,’ he said with a smile. ‘And since Hugh has banned her from associating with you, we will not have to worry about her washing up on our doorstep once we have married.’
She blinked for a moment as the image of her sister, bedraggled and in need, knocked on imaginary doors, only to be turned away by both brother and sister. Then she brightened. ‘I will not be bound by my brother’s rules once I am your wife.’ She disentangled her hand from his and walked her fingers up the front of his waistcoat. ‘Surely you will not begrudge me a visit from my sister and new brother, should they be in the vicinity of our home.’
There was a pause before he answered, almost as if that had been exactly his intention. But apparently he did not want to spoil the mood any more than she did, and eventually he replied, ‘Of course not.’
‘That is good,’ she said with a smile, relieved to have won this small argument about a thing that might never occur if Alister could not manage to come up to scratch and wed her.
‘And it is not as if she would be coming to live with us,’ he said, unable to keep the relief from his own voice. ‘I know you feared that might be necessary when she was still at home and your brother would not allow her a season.’
‘I did not precisely fear it...’ she allowed. In fact, she had been looking forward to it. She had assumed that they would be inviting her sister into their home, once she and Alister had wed. Of course, since she was oldest, she had also assumed that her marriage would have happened long before Peg found a husband. She had been wrong in that as well.
Whenever she and Alister had discussed it before, something had always stood in the way of an elopement. Either the weather was wrong for a trip to Scotland, or Alister had some business that he could not manage to leave, even for a week’s journey. And if not those reasons, then perhaps her brother was in a mood and watching too closely for her to get away. But, talking to him now, it seemed that there might be another, unspoken reason that had trumped them all.
‘Well, it is good that we no longer have to care about housing Margaret,’ Alister said with a smile, relaxing against the seat they shared and allowing his arm to drape behind her in a way that was almost an embrace.
Without intending to, she leaned forward, away from his arm, then turned to look at him in surprise. ‘Would it really have bothered you so much to have her stay with us?’
The answer was preceded by another unfortunate delay, as if he had realised his misstep and was searching his mind for a way to minimise it. ‘Of course not. But it is never ideal to have a guest in the house at the start of a marriage. I would not want you to have been distracted by her.’
Liv wanted to argue that there was nothing distracting about her sister, and that she was family and not a guest. But it seemed foolish to pick another fight over a point that had been rendered moot by Peg’s elopement.
When she said nothing, Alister chose to take her silence for agreement. His hand closed on her shoulder, pulling her gently back to lean against his arm. ‘Now that the matter is settled, we can begin to plan for our future.’
She rested uneasily against him, for until today she had not really known that there had been a hindrance to such plans. Apparently, he had been waiting until such time as he was sure that Peg was gone before proceeding. In some ways, this seemed an insult to her beloved sister.
But it might have been worse. He might have spirited her away to Scotland before telling her of his aversion to housing and launching Peg. Then, the poor thing would have been left to manage their brother on her own. Hugh being what he was, it would have been disastrous. Instead, the reverse was true. Peg was gone, and Liv was the one who was trapped. But her escape was finally imminent.
She smiled at Alister, reminding herself that it should be easy to forgive him for a thing that had not actually happened, and nodded in agreement. ‘As you say, it has all worked out for the best. If you have plans, I am eager to hear of them.’
He started to speak and then glanced at the old lady in the corner, who was starting on another piece of candy. She showed no signs of having heard anything that they had said thus far, nor did she seem to care what might come next. Then he turned back to Liv, giving her hand a squeeze. ‘Next week, come to see me here, as you always do. But include an extra hamper in your stack of gifts. Fill it with a change of linen, and any personal possessions you cannot do without. We will leave by the back stairs of this building, take a hired carriage to Scotland and be married in one week’s time.’
One more week.
It was so soon. But she must remember that he had been waiting years for her, ignoring the refusal and scorn of both her father and brother. He had stood with her through the period of mourning, while ignoring the foul rumours about her brother’s part in the death. Now that he was ready, it was unfair of her to keep him waiting a moment longer.
She smiled again and squeezed his hand in return. ‘Until next week.’
He nodded, satisfied, and gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek. ‘And now you must return to the carriage before the maid wonders at the delay. We will see each other again soon.’ The look he was giving her now was different from the ones he had given her before, full of a warmth that was exciting and, if she was honest, a little frightening.
She took a deep breath to steady her nerves. ‘The sooner the better.’
CHAPTER TWO
Six days.
After waiting for so long, it was strangely numbing to be so close to marriage. She had expected it to feel quite different from this. An impending elopement was supposed to be exciting. She had expected that she would find it difficult to sleep because her mind would be clouded with happy fantasies.
Instead, she had fallen into a fitful doze and woken sweat-soaked and with a scream on her lips. She had not expected the dreams to come back after all this time. They had plagued her almost nightly for months after the murder had occurred. It had been over two years since then, and lately they had been coming only once or twice a month.
But, now that she was alone in the house with Hugh, they were increasing again, and she woke almost daily with the memory of finding her father slumped over his desk as fresh in her mind as if it had happened yesterday.
To recover from the dream, she had lain in her bed listening to the longcase clock chiming off hours in the hall like a condemned man feeling his life slip away. It was a temporary disturbance of the mind, nothing more. Once she was on her way to Scotland and a new life, she was sure she would feel better. She would be out of this house and could leave behind the
memories of the things she’d seen here, dropping them on the doorstep like so much unwanted baggage.
She could barely tolerate her current circumstances. She was near to being a prisoner in her brother’s home. The doors were guarded against unapproved visitors, and she could not leave for any reason without being followed by servants and chaperoned by her maid.
Since their father’s murder, Hugh had been obsessed with controlling both his sisters, refusing to allow them to go about in society like normal girls their age. He had denied them seasons, refused all suitors and even turned down invitations to routs and dinners, keeping them apart from friends and strangers alike. His constrictions had caused Peg to run away with the first man who offered. It was driving Liv away as well, if only so she might be free of the memories of her father.
Life away from Scofield House would have many advantages. As a married woman, she would have more freedom. Alister would not think twice about her going shopping or visiting friends. Once she was Mrs Clement and not just the sister of Scofield, there might be invitations to dinners and parties. If she could separate herself from her notorious brother, society would have no reason to gawp at her. Any stigma attached to her reputation would dissipate. She could have a normal life.
The idea made her feel better immediately. Before Father had died and Hugh had taken control of her and her sister’s futures, life had been quite ordinary. She’d had a season, or most of one, at least. She’d danced and flirted and been courted by several gentlemen. And then the murder had happened, and everything had changed.
For a moment, everything seemed to freeze inside her and the present was blotted out by another memory of that night: the screaming, the blood and the feel of Hugh’s hands on her arms, trying to shake the panic out of her as he dragged her from the study and away from their father...
She took a deep breath, and then another, forcing the vision out of her mind, focusing on the garden outside, the leaves fluttering in the trees and the carefully tended flowers banked at their roots. In less than a week, she would be able to put the past behind her and have the life she’d always hoped for. She stared at the gate at the back of the garden and imagined the liberating feeling of walking through it for the last time, never to return.
Then she started, surprised. There was a strange gentleman on the bench under the laurel at the centre of the garden. He was sitting so still that she had overlooked him on the first scan of the space, but now she focused on him, fascinated. He was reading, or at least pretending to. His hat was tipped low over his eyes, either to shade them from the sun or to hide the fact that he was napping. His legs were spread wide, one ankle perched on the opposite knee, in something more like a sprawl than a politely seated position.
She stared at him for a time, wondering at the audacity of it. It would have been bad enough if this stranger was treating their back garden like a public park. Instead, he acted as if it was his own property where he could do as he wished. She was not even sure how he had come to be there, since Hugh had set someone to watch the back gate to prevent her from sneaking through it. What good were the guards if they did not bother to stop strangers from getting in?
He did not appear to be a vagrant. Despite his lack of manners, he was clean and well dressed. The hair that was visible under his hat was properly trimmed, and the sort of golden blond that caused girls to sigh when it caught the candlelight at dinner. Though she could not see them, she suspected he had equally riveting blue eyes. The chin under the brim of the hat was strong, just the sort of stalwart English jaw that women couldn’t resist.
She clenched her own jaw in response, refusing to be moved. Then she made her way through the kitchen to the garden door to investigate.
Once outside, she stopped at the kennel where her dogs were kept. At the sight of her, the older pug, Caesar, waddled forward and huffed a greeting.
‘You are supposed to bark when there are intruders present,’ she said, pointing at the man and staring down at the dog in disapproval.
At one time, he would have growled at her in response. Caesar had been a contrary beast for most of his life. Today, he grinned back at her and wagged his tail.
She sighed as his mate, Cleopatra, scampered up to stand shoulder to shoulder with him, equally happy to see her and just as oblivious to the intruder.
Against her better judgement, she bent down and scratched their ears. ‘Love makes fools of us all, Caesar. You have been quite useless since Cleo arrived. But at least you are happy, and I must take some pleasure in it.’
She gave him a final pat, then proceeded down the garden to confront the man sleeping on the bench. When he did not look up as she approached, she cleared her throat. When this elicited no response, she nudged his boot with the toe of her slipper and said in a loud voice, ‘Excuse me.’
Showing no sign of alarm, he pushed his hat back on his head with the tip of one finger and stared up at her, his eyes clear of the fog of slumber.
Without meaning to, her breath caught in her throat. Those eyes were as blue as she’d assumed they’d be. The slow smile he displayed at the sight of her was equally distracting. ‘Did you want something?’ he said in a tone that implied she was the one disturbing him.
‘Did I want something?’ she repeated, astounded at the gall of the man.
He nodded. ‘I assume you must. You are here and speaking to me, after all.’
‘This is a private garden,’ she said.
‘I am aware of that,’ he replied. ‘I certainly would not nap in a public park.’
‘It is my private garden,’ she replied. ‘My brother’s, actually. The Duke of Scofield.’
The man on the bench nodded. ‘I am aware of that as well.’
‘He would be most unhappy to find you here,’ she said, glancing towards the gate.
‘He would be most unhappy to find me anywhere else,’ the man said. ‘Since he employs me to watch you, I could not think of a better place to do it.’
‘You are working for my brother?’ she said, now thoroughly surprised. ‘You look nothing like the men he usually hires.’ Hugh’s typical guards were hulking brutes, more akin to carthorses than the thoroughbred occupying the bench in front of her.
‘I was told that the previous men were not very good at their jobs,’ he said with a shrug. ‘Apparently, he decided to employ brains rather than brawn.’
‘Of all the... Apparently, you are as vain as you are...’ She stopped, for she was about to announce that she thought him handsome. His looks or those of the previous men should not have mattered at all. ‘If you are working for my brother, you should not be lounging about in the garden.’
‘I am working for your brother,’ he agreed. ‘But that does not mean I will be taking orders from you.’ Then he added, ‘It was clear to me that you were not going anywhere. I could see you through the window, my lady. It is not necessary for me to march back and forth behind the house to prevent something that is not happening.’
The men who had watched her before had gone silently about their duties, ever present but never daring to speak to her or her sister. But this man was beyond insolent, calling her a lady while trampling over the social barriers between them as if they did not exist.
His behaviour was infuriating, but at least he was interesting. If he managed to get sacked on his first day, Lord knew who her brother might hire instead.
‘Suppose I had left,’ she said in a more reasonable tone. ‘I might have walked right by you as you slept.’
‘Without saying hello?’ he said with mock surprise. ‘That would have been most rude of you. Since I know you are a proper young lady, I expected you would stop to speak to me before leaving.’
That was not what a proper lady would do, and he was well aware of it. He was a stranger to her and, worse yet, an underling. Manners did not require her to acknowledge him at all.
‘W
e have not been introduced,’ she reminded him, hoping to put him in his place.
‘I am Mr Michael Solomon.’ He gave the faintest emphasis to the word Mr as if it pleased him to remind her that a nobody had power over her comings and goings. Then he held out his hand to her.
She ignored it, staring at him in offended silence.
‘And you are Lady Olivia Bethune,’ he said, paying no attention to the snub. ‘You may call me Michael if you wish. I suspect we will see a lot of each other in the coming weeks. There is no reason to stand on ceremony.’
There was every need. She could not go around calling strange men by their first names, even if they were little better than servants. And even a small intimacy with a man who looked like Michael Solomon felt dangerous in a way she could not explain.
‘I never bother to learn the names of the men my brother sets to guard me,’ she said, hoping to put him in his place.
He smiled. ‘Probably because they never bothered to introduce themselves. I am happy to be the first.’
‘But...’
He held up a hand as though he were fending off compliments rather than preventing further censure. ‘I am sure we will get on much better than you did with the previous men who have done this job.’ His smile widened. ‘We are off to an excellent start. You have come to talk to me on the very first day.’
‘I do not normally see a reason to converse with my jailers,’ she snapped before he could deliberately misunderstand her again. Of course, the other guards had been large, rough-looking men and, if she was honest, they had quite frightened her. But there was something about Mr Solomon that frightened her in a far different way. She took a breath and tried to remember her place in society, and in this conversation. ‘If I had spoken to them, I would have told them that they should not be sleeping in the garden when they were supposed to be working.’
Harlequin Historical September 2021--Box Set 1 of 2 Page 2
