by June Calvin
“I don’t know what to believe.” Allison closed her eyes. She could see herself, standing in the moon-drenched garden, wrapped in his arms, her face lifted to receive his kisses. The thought of his caresses on the sofa as he punctuated each kiss with a word still had the power to flood her body with heat. But inseparable from that memory were his words. She shuddered at the memory.
“Until that moment I wouldn't have believed you intended to offer me carte blanche!” She spat out the words, all the pain of that humiliating end to the tender scene of lovemaking once again overwhelming her.
Thorne dropped her elbow. “I never intended it. I spoke in the heat of passion. That evening was all a mistake. Your mother understands—”
“She wants so much to believe in you, she has blinded herself to the true meaning of your behavior. From the first she believed that your insistence that we live with you grew out of your interest in me. She took the notion that you were courting me. she fully expected you to offer for me at any time. At first I disagreed with her, but you were so very attentive—”
“I am sorry if you mistook my intentions.” Thorne turned away, wiping at his face as if to free it of cobwebs. “You were not only my kinswoman, but also my best friend’s widow. I could not leave you in that rotting dower house. I enjoyed our friendship, but that was all I ever intended, until that night. Somehow, in the light of the full moon, with your hair glowing like silver and that green dress shimmering with silver beads, you drew me to you. I touched you as a man might touch a fairy maiden, to see if she was real.”
“Ah, yes. Once again we come to it. It was all my fault. I seduced you.”
“You weren’t unwilling.” He turned back to her, brows arrowed downward, eyes scanning her face for the answer to a question he had no right to ask.
“No,” she whispered. “I wasn’t. I wanted your touch, your kiss, your... everything—until I realized it wasn’t marriage you had in mind.”
“I am truly sorry for that, Allison. It was wrong—I admit that. But please believe it wasn't premeditated. Indeed, I fought a hard battle with myself all spring to keep our association platonic, because I knew I couldn’t offer you marriage.” He held out his hands in supplication. “I thought you understood—”
“I didn’t understand then, and I don’t now. Say you do not love me; that I can understand. But to say you cannot marry me? My birth is not inferior. I haven't a large dowry, true, but I thought you had riches enough.”
“Shut up!” He seized both of her shoulders and gave her a little shake. “It’s nothing to do with money!”
“I thought not. Your feelings are not engaged. It was simply lust between us. I do understand that now, but at the time I believed otherwise.”
My feelings not engaged! Thorne’s hands tightened almost painfully on her shoulders. Thank goodness she could not know how he had wrestled with his feelings these last two weeks in Paris, when he finally realized that he had fallen in love. It was an emotion he regarded as an illness, to be avoided like the plague.
Her eyes searched his, and the pain and yearning she saw there mirrored her own soul. They swayed closer to one another, until without being sure how it happened, she was almost in his embrace. She pushed her hands up his chest until they cradled his head. “Can it be true? You feel nothing for me, other than lust?”
For a long, dangerous moment he looked as if he would kiss her. She leaned against him, almost on tiptoe, making her desire for that kiss perfectly clear. But he was visibly struggling with himself, and when he gained control, he gently but firmly put her away from him.
“I cannot marry you.”
Allison felt wrenching pain through the whole fiber of her being. She turned away. “You do not love me. Forgive me for embarrassing you further. It won’t happen again.” She sank onto the bench that her busy shears had revealed beneath the grape arbor.
Thorne knew he had hurt her. He tried to think of something to say to comfort her, to reassure her, to exonerate himself. But no words would come.
After a long while, Allison raised her head and looked directly at him. No tears blurred her sapphire eyes—she had herself well in hand. ‘‘Again you said cannot. Please explain the use of that word.”
Thorne struggled for an answer. “I... we would not suit, Allison.”
“I expect it was all the brangling. We were forever coming to cuffs over something, weren’t we? You seemed to enjoy our verbal sparring as much as I did, but. .”
“It was at once the most exasperating and the most exhilarating experience of my life.” His face relaxed; he almost smiled as he reminisced. “Never had I guessed I would have to defend my politics, my religion, even my taste in literature, to a woman. And one who could make me think twice about my answer, too.”
She cocked her head, puzzled by the affection in his voice. “But you want a biddable creature for a wife?”
Thorne hesitated. How could he explain to her that the overwhelming feelings she aroused in him made him less likely than ever to marry her? She wouldn’t understand. She would try to overcome his objections, and God help him, she might succeed. Besides, if he married—and it began to look as if he must, given James’s increasingly irresponsible behavior—she would be ineligible for a reason not subject either to emotion or argument.
Thorne sighed and turned away, remembering the day two years before when he had called on her at Lord Catherton’s town home. She was staying with her parents while Charles joined the dual United States-British force in the Oregon territory. The war office had asked him to break to her the news that Charles had died of an inflammation of the lungs. She had sobbed against his chest over and over again, “If only I could have had a child.” His heart had swelled with pity.
Yet sad though Allison’s barrenness was, it affected her and Charles alone. If Thorne died without an heir, it would affect literally thousands of people dependent upon him for their employment. Increasingly, he had become convinced that he could not trust their fate to the tender mercies of his ne'er-do-well cousin. That consideration, and that alone, could make him marry. It must be a marriage of convenience only. Not a love match! Never!
Thorne knew if he pointed to her barrenness as the reason he could not marry her, she would understand. But that would only serve to pour salt into that old wound.
Thorne studied the dear, unhappy countenance turned up to him. It surprises me that she doesn ’t guess. Allison and Charles had been married for six years, and for much of that time she had followed the drum. There would have been plenty of opportunity for a child to be conceived. Perhaps she can’t bear to face it. Well, he couldn’t bear to grieve her again. Let her think it was her tendency to speak her mind and stand her ground in the face of opposition that made him shy away from marrying her. It isn't exactly a lie, Thorne thought, shuddering at the memory of his stepmother’s scolding voice.
“You have the right of it, Allison. I did enjoy some of our discussions. but I am much too busy to be forever argufying with my wife. It would be fatiguing to have to justify my every decision. I want a peaceful home and obedient children. Think of the example you would set.”
Allison raised her chin proudly. ‘Thank you for explaining matters to me, Thorne. Now I understand. I misinterpreted your kindness, your friendship. Will you forgive me for the unpleasantness I put you through?”
“Shall we forgive one another and resume our friendship?” He held out his hand, which she, somewhat hesitantly, shook. “Good. Now you and Delphinia can come home. How on earth did you select Bristol as a refuge, Allison?” He hoped his teasing tone would lighten the mood.
Allison stood up. “No, we won’t come home, if by home you mean Thorne Hall or your London house. However unintentional those moments of passion in the garden were, they have changed everything. I could never be comfortable under your roof.”
“I have told you I would not deliberately seduce you. Now we both know the danger, we will be on guard against it. Come. Allison. S
ay you will go to London with me.”
She shook her head vehemently.
“Then go to Thorne Hall.”
“No. Residence in your home would only provide fuel for the gossips. I don’t care to be served up as scandal broth. Besides, now that I know there is no hope of mother recovering her dowry, I cannot like living on your charity.”
“Damn that Bartholomew! I shall fire him!”
“I insisted on seeing the accounts. Don't blame him. Blame yourself for hiding from my mother and me the true state of our finances.”
“If you know the tme state of your finances, you know you cannot live on your own. I daresay your entire annual income would barely pay the hire of this cottage. Stay on Curzon Street or at Thorne Hall while I look about me for a suitable residence for you on one of my smaller estates.”
Allison lifted her chin. “I do not intend to be one of your many pensioners.”
“Then how do you propose to live?”
“I am going to teach at a very good academy for females nearby and give piano lessons. That is why I chose Bristol. Lady Langley recommended it because of her acquaintance with the owner of the academy. It seems there are many wealthy tradesmen with daughters who aspire to gentility.”
He stared at her as if she had grown a second head. “You propose to earn your own bread?”
“I can and will support myself and my mother.”
“My kinswoman hiring herself out to Cits? Never! I won’t allow it.”
“You have no authority to stop me.”
“I am head of the family, and—”
“We are but distant cousins. I have male relatives on my father’s side who are more nearly related.”
“And who turned their backs on you when your father died in debt.”
Allison flushed. “Yes. Which is why none of them will seek to prevent me from supporting myself.”
“You forget, your husband appointed me your guardian.”
“He appointed you my financial guardian, Thorne. But it seems I have almost no finances to guard.”
“Such as you have, I control. You rented this place illegally, in fact. Bartholomew had no authorization to pay your quarter’s allowance ahead of schedule.”
“Nor did he.”
The earl looked around him. The cottage, though mean by his standards, looked to be well built and boasted a large garden, a small stable, and outbuildings for livestock. “Then how did you manage to hire such a place?”
“I sold my pearls.” Allison turned her head and stared unseeing into the distance.
There was a long silence. “The ones your father gave you before your first ball?”
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak above the lump that suddenly rose in her throat.
“My God. You must really have wanted this.”
“I really didn’t want to be kept by you.”
He flinched. “It isn’t the same thing.”
“There is no use arguing about it, Thorne. I won’t be your pensioner, you won’t have me for your wife, and I won’t take a lover. It would be best if you left now.”
“That I will not do, not without you and Delphinia. The two of you will return to London with me. I will send my servants to move your things and close this house.” His mouth set in a grim line, Thorne folded his arms and glared down at her.
“I will not return to London with you.” She folded her arms in echo of his posture and set her lips into equally mulish lines.
“Be sensible, Allison. A beautiful woman like you cannot live on her own, without a man to protect her. You’ll be beset at every turn, once it is known that we are estranged.”
“My mother can be a formidable chaperone.”
“And that is another thing. Your mother! Don’t tell me she will be happy here. There is no society as she knows of it in Bristol, and even if there were—”
“With her daughter working, she would be considered declass^. I know, and it makes me feel very sad. But I must choose the honorable path, and that precludes a life under your roof.” She turned her back on him.
Thorne once again turned her around and held her pinioned by his strong hands on her shoulders. “I swear I would never dishonor you,” he growled.
Allison struggled in his grasp. “I am sure you have no intention of doing so. But now that we have become aware of the potent attraction between us, can we honestly say no danger exists? That we won’t ever again be swept away by passion? For if you can vouch for your own self-control, I am not so sure of mine!”
Her words ignited something fierce in him. Her bosom rising and falling with strong emotion, her nostrils flaring, kindled desire such as he had never known.
At the sight of that hungry light in his eyes she laughed, a low triumphant laugh, and stepped forward to press herself against him. Instantly, she was engulfed in his arms, her lips claimed in a searing kiss that she returned with equal ardor. But when his hand moved between them to cup her bosom, she broke away.
“You see. Thorne? We can never again share house room. Our lives must be separated from now on, or—”
“Oh, that is of all things wonderful!” Her mother’s cheery voice broke into their tete-a-tete. She was beaming at them from a few feet away. It was clear that she had witnessed their passionate embrace. “I knew you would explain it all to her and come to an agreement”
Chapter Five
Allison and Thorne turned equally dismayed faces toward Delphinia. Thorne cleared his throat uneasily. Allison felt responsible for his embarrassment, having deliberately provoked that kiss to prove her point.
“It isn’t what you think, Mother. Thorne and I have mutually agreed that we will not suit.”
“Mutually ... will not suit? Had your father caught a man kissing you like that, and no engagement announced on the instant, he would have had his horsewhip out.”
“Mother, we were only saying our good-byes. Thorne feels that I am too disputatious, and I cannot change my nature to suit his notions.”
“Is this true, Thorne? She has not mistaken the matter? You do not wish to marry my daughter?”
A great shuddering sigh escaped Thorne. He swiped his large hand over his face. “I am very sorry to have allowed myself to be carried away yet again, for what Allison says is true. I—”
“Yet again! So! You did try to seduce her in London.” The change that came over Delphina was startling to both observers. Suddenly, she was Lady Catherton, standing ramrod straight, her chin lifted proudly. “I must tell you, sir, that you are no longer welcome here.”
Allison bit her lip. She wanted Thorne to leave, it was true, but she had only to look at his face to know how hurt he was by her mother’s sudden hostility. Thorne had always been fond of her mother. Allison sternly suppressed the instinct to defend him; it was best if her mother at last realized the truth about Thorne’s intentions.
“Please believe me—I never had any intentions of seducing your daughter. What happened between us just now, and what happened that night in London, occurred spontaneously. But if you feel she has been compromised ..He looked around for any evidence of spying servants, but saw none.
Delphinia shook her head. “Fortunately, scandal can be avoided. Allison deserves a husband who is eager to marry her.”
Thorne realized with dismay that a part of him hoped Delphinia would make marrying Allison unavoidable. I truly am my father's son, he thought, scowling.
“I have refused Thorne’s request that we return to London with him,” Allison informed her mother.
“Indeed, no! I have been much mistaken in you, sir. I now see that for us to make our home with you will not do, not at all. My daughter and I are of one mind in this.”
Thorne felt like a villain. With both women glaring at him sternly, he saw that he had lost the battle to carry them back to London. He would have to find some other way to help them and protect them, though how he was to do it with them in Bristol, he could not yet divine.
“As you
wish, Lady Catherton.” He bowed stiffly to each of them and stalked from the garden with all the dignity he could muster, though he felt like a naughty boy who had been caught out in some serious transgression.
Rain! Rain! Rain! Allison’s mind screamed the words as she stared out the window. As the final notes died beneath the hands of her last piano student for the day, she turned back to the class. Some of the auditors were giggling and whispering behind their hands.
“Young ladies, I must remind you that learning to listen politely to the musical performances of others is as important a drawing room skill as acquiring the ability to perform yourself.”
“But Mrs. Weatherby, Jane struck five wrong notes,” the lively and mischievous Alicia crowed.
“And by publicly noticing, you have struck twenty wrong notes, for you have scandalized twenty well-bred young ladies.” Allison’s eyes scanned the room, her expression as severe as she could make it after so inaccurately describing the room full of giggly girls. “I wish to see a composition from you tomorrow on the subject of consideration for the feelings of others, Alicia.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Alicia lowered her eyes and bit her lip to stifle her merriment. Jane, red-faced, retreated from the piano.
After the last girl had ambled out of the room, Allison turned back to the window. Will it never stop raining? And such a cold rain for June. She sighed. Nothing for it but to summon a hackney cab. For the entire week she had been forced to hire a cab to and from Miss Purvey’s academy. The expense would seriously affect their budget.
Briefly, she contemplated walking, but cast the idea aside. If she became ill, they really would be in the basket. It had been a difficult few months, with too little money to keep the cottage well heated during a spring that had seemed more like winter. Sufficient food for themselves and the servants had been difficult to come by, especially for Ian, the tall, strongly built young man Peterson had managed to hire for a pittance to assist him.
