To Win a Wallflower

by Liz Tyner

  She hated her parents tiptoeing around each other, always seeming to lose any senses when the other person was in the room. Her mother used the sofa like a throne or a deathbed, depending on the day. And the rest of the family always followed along and Annie had soothed everyone when her mother was upset.

  ‘I suspect anyone having you for a husband and expecting the event to be smooth,’ she said, ‘might have the same luck as planting thorn bushes in a garden and expecting beautiful blooms to sprout.’

  ‘True. My business comes first, second and last.’

  ‘And you are the business in its entirety.’

  He didn’t answer, but raised a brow, indicating she might be foolish to believe anything else.

  She had one of those wind-up machinations in front of her. The Barrett version. All starched and pressed and with only moving parts that one could see working and nothing flesh and bone beneath.

  But perhaps he didn’t know that something else was inside him, too. She doubted he’d let anyone, ever, in his life any closer than she was.

  And if she pushed him out the door, she doubted he’d ever let anyone get half as close to him as he’d let her become.

  She put a hand on his chest, over his heart, and really, she felt nothing beating.

  It seemed that he could read her mind and the look in his eyes challenged her.

  ‘What do you have inside?’ she asked. ‘To fill the space?’

  ‘Ledgers, I suppose.’

  ‘That is better than absolutely nothing. You care for something.’

  ‘I’ve never pretended not to have a fascination with increasing my wealth.’

  ‘A fascination?’

  He nodded, unspeaking.

  ‘At least you are free to move about when you wish.’

  He snorted.

  ‘You are,’ she challenged. ‘My attic world,’ she said, turning. ‘Let me show you the room.’

  He grasped her hand, stilling her. ‘I can’t go to your room with you.’

  ‘Your feet don’t work?’ she asked. ‘You can’t raise your feet? Should I get Gavin to attest to this, or would he twist that to his purposes?’

  ‘I can raise my feet,’ he said. ‘Extremely well.’ He leaned closer, eyes direct. ‘I can raise my feet as high as they need to go.’

  She blinked, a dismissal, and led him up a darkened hallway, into a smaller, bleaker corridor and then into a small room. He ducked his head under the doorway when he went inside.

  * * *

  Barrett looked into the room. For a small place under the eaves, it was appealing. Two chairs, a table, and some books. Two lamps turned low. No bed.

  ‘I have a sitting room, a room for my clothes and one for my bed. It is like a small house, but the ceilings and walls of each room are so close that I’m forever reminded of being confined.’

  All he could think of was the one room with a bed that must take up the whole space. He needed to give her the pin, tell her goodbye and leave. He would leave as soon as he gave her the pin.

  He looked at her and breathed in a light floral aroma. Perhaps some scent from the soap she put on her hair. So fragile. The only thing in his life that he couldn’t easily turn from. The only thing. She kept telling him of the cramped feel of her room and he kept thinking of her bed and knowing it had more than enough room.

  He reached out, taking her wrist and holding it up. A slender reed, so fragile he could hardly believe it. He looked where his hand joined hers. She quietened.

  He could not tell her of the wager with Gavin. He could not tell her he’d seen her wrist and heard her laughter and it had pulled him along like a wheeled toy on a string. But then when he saw her and realised her beauty and her frailty, he’d known she wasn’t strong enough for his world. He’d known it best for her to be secluded. The safest place of all for her, in her family’s home. And he knew he could keep her there, if she would only listen to him.

  The touch of her skin infused life into his body and destroyed his resistance. He’d suspected from the very first that would happen. And he did not need to ruin her any more than he had. He’d made a blasted mistake and he didn’t need to make it worse.

  ‘Where did you see me first?’ she repeated.

  ‘I only thought I saw you,’ he said.

  ‘You can’t think you see something. You either do or you don’t.’

  ‘You were in the hallway at this house and only in my vision for a moment. I couldn’t see you. But I could see the innocence in your movements and hear your laughter.’ He dipped his head. ‘Your laughter. I’d never heard a sound like that.’

  With a free hand, she put a palm flat on his chest. This time he’d not prepared himself. His defences ripped from his body. All he could do was gaze at her.

  She dipped her head. ‘I can understand that since I’m a merchant’s daughter, it might cause you to dismiss me. I’m not a business asset. Will never be.’

  He touched her chin to raise her eyes back into his view. ‘You are not just any merchant’s daughter. You’re Annie and never has there been a better view in my eyes. Never. Than at this moment.’

  His grasp on her wrist loosened and slid down to cup her elbow, and then lower to rest at her waist. Barrett couldn’t keep from touching her face. ‘You’ve never even seen evil. The one thing your father did correctly was keep you safe. But he should have let you see that the world does not have your best interests at heart. It only holds their own.’

  ‘He has kept me a prisoner.’

  ‘For your own good.’

  ‘And you would do the same? Lock me away?’

  ‘Your father does not have locks on doors to keep you in. He has them there to keep evil from destroying you.’

  ‘I’m locked away, but I would like us to be friends.’

  ‘My body doesn’t react to friends the same way it reacts to you.’ He needed to step back. To keep her safe and secure, and let her keep believing that people did have good in them.

  She turned away.

  He reached out, the light touch of his fingers on her arm stilling her. ‘Annie, at the soirée did you want to dance with me?’

  ‘I did. But I didn’t really. I wanted to speak with you when no one was around so we could talk of things that matter and not the folderol you must say when a crowd is around.’

  ‘I wanted to dance,’ he said. ‘Just that moment. A waltz though, a chance to swirl you through the air and keep you close for the memory of dancing with you.’

  ‘There isn’t enough space in here for a waltz.’

  He moved closer, turned her to him and took her hand in his. He pulled her palm to his face and placed a kiss in it. ‘There is plenty of room.’

  Then he held her hand high and put his other at her back. With his lips close to her ear, he hummed the music and led her in the confined dance. Leading her around the room, he kept holding her nearer his body.

  Finally, he stopped.

  ‘We must tell each other goodbye and mean it,’ he said.

  ‘Or we could continue to be friends,’ she answered. ‘Why is that not possible?’

  She moved against him, holding him tight in her arms. Their clothes crushed between them. Flashes of heat erupted in him and he closed his lips, tightened the muscles of his jaw and put his hands at her waist and pushed her away as he stepped back.

  ‘Because we are too fascinated with each other to merely be friends. Ever.’

  He reached into his pocket, took out the pin and carefully placed it in her hair, weaving it into the locks. He took his time, savouring the feel of the soft wisps of hair and the nearness.

  ‘This is how I wish to remember you. A nymph in the night. A treasure to dance with. A beautiful innocent.’ He stepped away, reaching for the door.

  He felt her hands clamp around his arm and she swung her b
ody between him and the door. ‘You are leaving. Just like that?’

  ‘I have to leave. There’s no marriage in me. No tender feelings. But I cannot look at the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen—the most innocence I’ve ever seen—destroy it and go on. And I am going on. I’m going back to the world I’ve lived in always.’ He took her face in his hands and moved close. ‘You are too perfect.’

  ‘I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else,’ she said. ‘I’m one of the Carson sisters. We are not known for our discretion. Rather our indiscretion.’

  He rested his face against her, feeling heartbeats pounding in him.

  ‘I’ve missed you, Annie. I’ve missed you all my life.’

  ‘I’m here now,’ she said, leaning into his kiss and the caresses that went from his heart to his hands and against her and then back into his body again.

  Hard and aware of every flicker of her movement, he ran his hand to the front of her dressing gown and untied the knot as if he were unwrapping a gift. Even the fastening of her clothing seemed to understand his need for her, falling open before he could imagine.

  All his sense of business and rightness and everything else fled, but the desperate need to touch her skin.

  When he looked at her, he forgot all about doors to leave through and darkened windows and even the warmth of sunshine, because Annie warmed him more than anything else and all the way to the edges of his heart. To look into Annie’s eyes engulfed him in her touch.

  He took off his coat and his waistcoat.

  Raising her hands, she unpinned her hair, letting it fall around her shoulders. She took the pin he’d given her, and slipped the pin over the side of his waistband. ‘I don’t need this right now.’

  She took the lamp and walked through her bedroom door.

  She was freed of the constraints of society for the first time in her life.

  Pulling him close enough was impossible. Touching him enough eluded her.

  ‘You will not be able to go back to the innocence you had.’ Barrett pulled away and the intensity in his eyes engulfed her.

  She lowered her eyes to follow the trail her fingers made from the side of his face, over his cravat and down his arm. ‘I can never go back. It’s already too late to return. My world changed forever the moment you told me to make a fist.’

  She didn’t want to let her mind stay in the dark attic. All she wanted was Barrett. The scent of him entranced her and she pressed against his coat, pulling him closer. She couldn’t breathe unless she touched his skin.

  Their fingers tangled at his waistcoat buttons and his husky laughter reached her ears. Gently, he moved her hands aside and, in the time it took for him to run his fingers down the placket, he had the buttons undone. He shrugged his clothes from his shoulders and took her in his arms.

  The warmth of his chest surrounded her, a fortress of man stronger than anything she’d ever imagined.

  Barrett held her close, taking his time with the sleeves on her chemise, lingering over each movement. He slipped the garment from her shoulders, pausing, taking a breath. Bending down, he kissed the soft skin of her shoulder, his lips lingering.

  Letting the dressing gown fall to the floor with the chemise, he caressed her breasts from behind, pulling her against him, the fabric of his trousers brushing her.

  Then he turned her, lifted her in his arms and took her to bed. She couldn’t feel the sheets or any of the covers. The only thing that she could see, feel or taste was Barrett.

  Running a hand along her hip, he traced the rise and fall of her body, breathing life into her with his kisses.

  He was spice and life and her body felt more alive than it ever had before, and free. She’d escaped the prison and found her freedom in his kisses.

  He touched her, trying not to miss any part of her, learning the magic of her body, and letting it infuse him with a magic he’d never known before. Annie soothed all the storm clouds he’d ever felt and the magic appeared in her face, and nothing else was in the world but them. His eyes questioned her and she answered him by lessening the distance between them.

  He moved above her and, with all the control he’d learned, he gently moved inside her, easing his way slowly, taking care so he could watch her eyes and then brush kisses over her face. His cheek rested against hers, and he held her close and tried to make a moment neither of them would ever forget.

  * * *

  Lying beside Barrett, she could feel the peaceful blanket of security around her.

  Annie rested her hand against Barrett’s chest and savoured the moment of closeness that seemed to erase all the emptiness in life before she’d touched him.

  ‘This was most wondrous,’ she said.

  She couldn’t tell him how much their moments had meant. She had no words for such an experience. Shutting her eyes, she snuggled into him. She’d finally reached into his heart.

  She propped herself on one arm, keeping the covers over her. She took his hand and pulled it to her lips and kissed the fingers, then nipped one.

  He pulled her down against him and hugged her close. ‘I can’t stay much longer. The servants will be about.’

  Those weren’t the exact words she wanted to hear. She’d give him another chance. ‘This meant something to you?’

  ‘Of course it did.’ The truth of his words soothed her. She treasured the knowledge.

  ‘But we must get back to our duties.’

  She listened to his words again in her mind, studying them, trying to put them in a different order or somehow make them sound like what she’d wanted to hear. She must have misunderstood.

  ‘Think of my life. I have no duties that matter. I say soft words to my parents to make them believe all is well and I stare at the walls. I live in someone else’s house and someone else’s world.’

  ‘Can you not make it your own?’

  It was as if a cat yowled inside her, but she pushed the feelings away, soothing herself by running a hand along his arm, reassuring herself that all was right. He would understand. Surely he would.

  ‘It doesn’t fit, my world,’ she said. ‘I’ll always be the baby of the family and my parents don’t mean disrespect, but they dismiss my thoughts. They bat my feelings back into the crib if I so much as hint at a thought—then they tug at me when they need someone to bolster their own feelings. If I disagree, it is as if I am a mouse who just grew a giant claw and it shocks them deeply that I might swipe out with my opinion.’

  ‘I am not a man to release you from these walls. I would only place you in others.’

  Her hand clenched. ‘What others?’

  She held her breath, waiting to see if he would say the walls of his home. If he married her, it wouldn’t matter if he did think to shut her away. She would have a carriage at her disposal. He attended soirées and as his wife she could stand with the wallflowers and it would not matter so much. Nothing would matter, as long as Barrett was in her life. As long as he knew she was in his.

  ‘The walls that protect people from my world. I have to take care of my father. I can’t leave it to the others. He would destroy them or innocent people. No one can handle him like I can. No one.’

  ‘I’m sure that’s true. But I can help.’

  And she could. She’d spent her life helping her parents and her sisters get along. Making peace. She could help with his father.

  ‘No.’ He moved out of bed, clutching his trousers from the floor. ‘He would see you as another opportunity, a weakness in me. He can’t use you.’

  She sat, her arms crossed over the covers. ‘Trees gain strength because of the winds that push against them. I have been sheltered, but I want to stand on my own feet.’

  The air suffocated her. She’d just shared the most closeness she’d ever shared with anyone ever. She was hoping he’d stay until the last moment of the last second he could
remain and keep their encounter secret, yet he was more concerned with leaving.

  ‘You cannot enter into my father’s household. He doesn’t need another toy to bat around,’ he added.

  She certainly could understand how a toy that might be battered would feel. ‘Do you think that is what he does to you?’

  ‘Perhaps. Perhaps it is a game we both play.’

  He put on his trousers and sat beside her, touching her hand. ‘Whatever it is in my household—game or bitter fight to the death—you cannot be involved.’

  ‘But if I wish it?’ Why could he not agree, or ask if he might visit her again? And where were all the fluttery words of love that her sisters had talked of over and over and over? She tightened her fists on the covers and drew her knees closer to her body.

  He shook his head. ‘I would not let you walk into a fire just because you wished it.’

  Annie pulled away and lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling. ‘Why would you not want me to be happy? Why would you not wish to place the world at my feet?’ Or at least place a soft word into the air. Or promise to return to see her again with a decision of the second they would be together. Did he not understand how this affection thing worked?

  He stretched his opposite arm away from her, then placed his palm against the back of his neck, pausing for a moment and then reaching to rest his fingertips against her arm.

  ‘Because the world wouldn’t be at your feet. You would be at its mercy and it would trample you. You cannot have your reputation ruined.’

  He’d forgotten she’d risked running away to be with her sister. Conveniently? she wondered.

  Her thoughts clashed against each other. ‘The only trampling is done by you and against my feelings.’

  She had heard stories of ruined women and now she knew how they felt. She’d thought she’d shared the most precious moments of life with Barrett and he had apparently missed that.