by Jade Lee
"If you want him to see you—really see you—then you must let him know who you are inside."
He watched that information slip into her mind. She didn't respond to it. It was too soon. She would most likely file it away to think on later. But that didn't stop her from continuing her attack. "Why are you here?" she demanded.
"I was informing your brother of my intention to wed you."
"What!" she cried. "Of all the nerve!"
He frowned at her, his mind working furiously as he tried to cut off a potential hailstorm of feminine indignation. "You are surprised by my actions?"
"Yes! I mean, no! Of course not!" She huffed. "You need to ask me, Edward. Not him!"
"Are you ready for me to ask?" he challenged. "Shall I go down on one knee now? Do you wish to see a ring?"
"No!" she gasped, panic in her eyes. "God, no! Not now!" She was thoroughly upset and her hands were raised as if to ward him off. "Edward, what are you thinking?" she whispered.
It took him a moment to respond. He had not expected her to react so vehemently and the pain of that took him by surprise. But he was a man, and so he kept his expression bland and his tone even. It was the hardest thing he'd ever had to do.
"I think that I have overstayed my welcome." He executed a passable bow to both of them. "If you will excuse me, I shall show myself out."
"Edward, wait!" she cried, taking a step after him.
But he couldn't stop. Not just yet. Not for perhaps a very long while.
Chapter 10
Edward didn't take her riding that afternoon. Gwen wasn't really surprised when his note arrived explaining that he would not be able to make their scheduled appointment. She wasn't surprised, but she was horribly disappointed. And she didn't see him that night at the ball either.
In the end, she went home early, hoping he'd visit her that night. They could talk then, and she could apologize for turning down his marriage proposal so vehemently. She still didn't know what had happened. He had caught her off guard, though Heaven knew she shouldn't have been. He'd told her already that his honor demanded that he marry her. Even if he hadn't said it, she knew that he was the kind of man who proposed. If he weren't, she'd already be compromised and he'd have moved on to his next conquest.
But she wasn't and he hadn't and her thoughts were so tortured now that she could only throw open her window and pray that he was waiting for her there.
He wasn't. And even worse, sometime during the day, all the ivy had been stripped from the house. She stared at the denuded stone in dismay wondering if she could somehow discretely hide a ladder or act like Rapunzel and throw down her hair. She couldn't, of course, so she sat at her window and waited, thinking if nothing else that she could run outside and they could talk there.
But he didn't come, and she ended up falling asleep by her window and having terrible dreams involving ladders and trolls that looked like her brother and a prince who rode right by without even noticing she was there. She woke with a gasp and was actually grateful when her mother called. Mama had slept the day through and now needed to use the necessary. It was a good sign that the woman was interested in performing these basic functions, albeit with help. It gave Gwen hope that this part of the cycle would pass quickly.
She spent the rest of the night with her mother, trying to regale her with news of the Season. The woman showed no signs of interest, but would grow restless when Gwen wasn't there. So Gwen chattered about her efforts to find Debra a husband.
At least that part of the Season was going well. Gwen had steered Debra to a group of bluestocking women who in turn had a few academically minded gentlemen in their midst. Sure enough, one young man had shown a particular interest; and within a week, love had blossomed. Debra was well on her way to wed, and Gwen would soon lose another friend to matrimony. And it would be a true loss since neither Debra nor her suitor enjoyed London. They would marry and retire to the country, and soon the children would start coming. It would be the rare event indeed that would bring Debra back into Gwen's circle.
But that was the way with friends for Gwen. Here for a time, then married and gone. Only she remained, sitting beside her mother's bed and chattering gossip until her throat was dry and her head ached abominably. And yet, still she continued talking.
It was the early hours of the morning when Gwen's store of nonsense gave out. She ended up staring at her mother who was lying in bed, staring at nothing. Was this Gwen's future too? As everyone else married and moved on, would Gwen end up alone in a bed staring at nothing?
Certainly her health wasn't as delicate as her mother's, but sometimes—oftentimes lately—the endless rounds of parties felt no more substantial than sitting at home. What did it matter that Lord Bantham had lost all his money at faro? Or that Miss Hubbert had danced three times with Mr. Barr and three times with Mr. Williams? None of it mattered in the slightest.
That was why she had thrown herself into kissing. In the silence of her mother's room, she could confess the truth to herself. Her wildness was simply a way to prove to herself that she would not become her mother. Except, of course, that kissing gentlemen she cared nothing about was no more substantial than gossiping about people she had no interest in or reading a book about people who didn't exist. They were all ways to pass the time—an eternity of time—with no more substance than that. An empty way to fill the empty ticking of the clock. And that was her life.
She didn't even realize she was crying until a male hand offered her his handkerchief.
She gaped and looked up, dismayed to see that it wasn't Edward, and that made her cry even harder. It was her brother, Robert, and he didn't say a word. Just steadily wiped away her tears until she had enough control to take the linen away from him and blow her nose like the silly goose she was.
"She'll get better, Gwen. She always does."
"Yes, and then she'll get worse again. She always does."
He had no answer to that except to pull over a chair and sit beside her. "Perhaps it will be better at the new property. The sale should go through soon and then we can begin interviewing nurses."
"She doesn't like new people. You know that."
"Neither can we sacrifice our own lives to sit by her bedside day and night."
"It's not that bad," she said softly, even though they both knew she lied. Even at the best of times when Mama was laughing and would talk about stepping outdoors, Gwen spent all her days watching for and dreading the moment when the despair returned.
Robert eased a hand around her shoulders and pulled her tight. "I'll find a way to make it better. I swear."
"You can't make that promise." And when he would have argued with her, she shook her head. "And besides, that wasn't what I was crying about."
He pulled back to look at her face. Then he abruptly stood up and shifted his chair such that he faced her directly.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"Your Baronet said that you said that I don't see you. Well, I am doing it now. I am forcing myself to see you."
She gaped at him. "You want to see me now? At three in the morning when my face is all mottled from tears?"
He shrugged as he sat back down. "Can you think of a better time?"
She couldn't. And besides, she was too grateful that he was here to argue. But then the silence stretched between them. She felt awkward, and she could tell he felt the same.
"Gwen," he finally said, exasperation in his tone. "I cannot see what you don't show me."
She lifted her hands in a futile gesture. "I am right here."
"Why were you crying?"
Oh. Of course. How to put it into words? "I suppose I have just discovered that I want to get married."
He frowned, clearly confused. "Isn't that what all women want?"
She snorted. "Not me. Not ever. You know that. I told you that when I was eight."
"But you were eight. I assumed you'd changed your mind."
She shook her head. "Do you know of a ha
ppy marriage? Certainly our parents' is a disaster. Do you know of others who are truly happy with one another?"
He nodded. "Of course there are. Many are quite content with their spouses."
"Maybe content, but certainly not happy. My friends who are married are looking to their children for happiness. They barely mention their husbands except to be grateful when they are away."
Robert pressed his lips together. She knew he wanted to argue with her, but he was too logical to deny what they both knew. For all that so much time was spent pursuing matrimony, marriage was not something that their set enjoyed. At best, it was tolerated.
And yet now she discovered that she wanted it. She wanted a husband to love her and children at her feet even knowing that it was a pipe dream.
"I have spent so long not wanting the life our parents are doomed to. Mama's mood swings are the least of it. Papa's whoring is part of the problem. And neither of them have the strength to change it."
"Not every marriage will be like that."
"That is just what I have discovered, Robert. I have spent so long avoiding marriage, I didn't realize that I locked myself into something that is even worse."
He reared back. "What has been worse?"
"My life! Party after party for no point. I suppose I became like father, seeking out kisses the way he seeks out whores."
"The devil you say!" he cried.
She reached out and patted his arm before he exploded. "Don't worry," she lied. "I have been most discreet and besides, there were all those damnable chaperones."
He grimaced, obviously not believing her. "So, in addition to the ivy, I shall have to resume chaperone duties."
She huffed. This was not at all where she wanted the conversation to go. "Actually, Robert, that won't be necessary at all as I have decided that I want to be married. Which means I shall have to protect my virtue." She almost rolled her eyes at that. Really, virtue was a rather tedious thing to guard. "I will have to look at men and actually wonder what it would be like to live with them for the rest of my life."
"I thought you were doing that!"
She laughed. "No, brother dear. I was looking at them and wondering if they were considered excellent kissers."
"Gwendolyn!"
"Oh, don't be scandalized! Especially now that I have decided to approach the Season in earnest."
"And find a husband?"
She shrugged. "I suppose. I cannot stay here, watching Mama and going to parties until I am old and gray. There needs to be more than that."
"You could find a hobby of some sort. A passion."
She nodded. She knew he had a secret interest all his own. He thought he kept it hidden. But she was his sister, and so she knew how closely he measured and adjusted their mother's medicines. That he watched and recorded the symptoms of her disease. If he were not papa's heir, he would have become a fine doctor.
"So, do you have a gentleman in mind?" he asked, interrupting her musing. "Sir Edward perhaps?"
"I already turned him down this morning," she said morosely. "You were right there."
"Yes, but it didn't seem like a proper proposal to me. And besides, he doesn't strike me as a man to be so easily pushed aside."
Oh, she hoped that was true. "He cancelled our drive this afternoon and wasn't at the ball tonight."
Robert snorted. "It hasn't even been one day, Gwen. Give the man a minute to salvage his pride."
She nodded. She knew he was right, and yet part of her was desperately afraid. How awful to realize she wanted someone at the very moment they gave up and went away.
"Do you think it's possible to love someone, really love them for your entire life? And not get bored or distracted or..." She gestured at their mother. "Or lost?"
Robert didn't answer for a long time, and then he simply shrugged. "I want it to be true, Gwen. I want it so desperately for you."
She turned to search his face. The candlelight cast his features into a softer, golden hue. In truth, it made him look quite handsome. "For me? Don't you want a wife?"
He snorted. "I have enough females in my life, thank you very much. Forget Mama. You are going to turn my hair gray if I don't pull it out completely. Do you know what it cost to have all that ivy ripped down?"
She giggled, not at all apologetic. "I think I shall go to bed now," she said. "Mama should be fine until morning."
"I shall see to her medicine," he said. Then he touched his sister on the chin, holding her in place as he searched her eyes. "You are right that our parents' marriage is a disaster. But that doesn't mean that love doesn't exist. That you can't find happiness in a marriage bed. Sometimes the best parts of life are right around the corner, but you have to look." He touched her on the nose. "And you have to see."
"Are you 'seeing' me, brother dear?"
"I'm trying to. And what I see is a beautiful woman who I am proud to call my sister."
That was no small thing for him. For either of them. After all, family pride had been long absent from their lineage. So she engulfed him in a hug which he returned tenfold.
"You are a horrible tyrant of a brother, you know, but I love you to pieces," she said into his shirt front.
"And you are a terrible hoyden who gives me nightmares, but I would do anything for you. You know that, right?"
"Of course I do. And I you."
It was a pact of sorts, between brother and sister, and one that was long overdue. She resolved then and there to try and be nicer to the man. She knew it wouldn't last, but for the moment, she vowed not call him terrible names for a week at least.
"Go on to bed," he said, breaking the spell. "I'll sit with Mama for a while and see if I can get her to take her medicine. I spoke with her doctor yesterday and we think there is a new mixture that would help."
She nodded, uninterested in the details of medicine. It was enough to know that Robert had the situation in hand. Or as in hand as it could be.
Besides, she had things to do. Sometime in the last half hour, Gwen had made a decision. She was going to seduce Edward. That would force him to propose to her again because his honor would demand no less. And this time, she would accept.
Chapter 11
Edward bellowed and planted his fist through the wall. It was a ridiculously stupid thing to do. He would have to pay his landlord for the damage to the room. Given the pain radiating up his arm, he could easily have fractured his fingers. And worse, it had only temporarily alleviated his frustration. As he stared morosely at the gaping hole in the paneling, his thoughts hopped right back to Gwen and once again the frustration began to build. All because of one stupid thing.
His plan was working. And it was driving him to madness.
Weeks ago he had set his sights on Lady Gwen. When she had steadfastly ignored him, he had finally done the desperate step of spilling lemonade all over her and Debra. In truth, that was the riskiest part of the plan but it had worked out. Gwen had become fast friends with Debra, who would be married tomorrow! Meanwhile, Debra had managed to pique Gwen's interest in him.
Success on both counts. All that remained was a normal courtship where he kept his lady intrigued and then he'd propose, they'd get married and live happily ever after. That had been the plan. Then she'd stepped into his arms and he had lost his head. The next thing he knew, he was climbing her walls to do wicked things to her in her bedroom.
Fortunately, her brother had sense and put a stop to that. It was only right and proper that the ivy had been stripped and that Gwen's chaperones were now gimlet eyed harridans who barely allowed the girl to breathe on her own. That was right and proper and how it should have been in the beginning. It was part of the plan: an honest, honorable courtship.
And it was driving him crazy.
At least he'd been able to speak with her. They'd danced, walked around ballrooms, and even once managed to stroll through Hyde Park during the fashionable hour. He didn't have a carriage or horses in town, so he couldn't take her riding which meant t
heir chaperone walked a bare two steps behind them the whole way. Everything had remained proper; but my God, he'd never realized how very hideous proper could be!
He was insane with want, which was bad enough. But he saw a growing desperation in Gwen's eyes. He tried to temper it. They had spoken about many things including her need for a hobby. Husband hunting for Debra had helped. And there had been much discussion regarding the wedding itself, especially a new dressmaker named Mrs. Mortimer. The woman ran a shop called A Lady's Favor that Gwen thought was delightful for some reason.
But the distraction was not enough for either of them. All too soon, Edward would have to return home. He was neglecting his responsibilities at the baronetcy, and that was something that could not continue.
Which meant it was time for something drastic, something that he would never do in the usual course of things. He wanted to marry Gwen, and he would not be denied his chance just because her brother had erected a wall around her. He completely discounted the fact that Gwen had already refused him. He believed she'd done that because of the unusual way he'd proposed. It had been too soon. He'd known that, but she had forced his hand and he hadn't been thinking straight.
In any event, he prayed that she had changed her mind. So he set about making plans. He'd already seen her at tonight's ball. They'd danced a waltz, which had set his head spinning. She was the most amazing woman, and not just because she was beautiful. It was something about her. She made everything more interesting, more exciting, more full of joy. When she smiled at him, it felt as if the whole world brightened.
So he had danced with her and she had smiled at him, and there was almost no conversation at all. Then rather than try and fight through her crowd of admirers, he decided to leave. Which brought him to his silent room on the second floor of a boarding house where he punched out his frustration on the wall.
But now it was done. It was time to make definite plans. So he sat down at his desk, brought the light over, and began to scratch out options and problems. He wrote out every possible action from an afternoon's visit through an out and out abduction. He was deep in the technical problems of riding to Scotland when someone knocked on his window.
