Promised

by Leah Garriott

  “You and your promises.” But his sternness faltered, undoubtedly from picturing the disappointment on our ten-year-old sister’s face when she realized it was his fault we hadn’t brought her a present.

  I narrowed my eyes and waggled my eyebrows. “And I am certain Louisa would adore a lace handkerchief.” Though no announcement had yet been made, Daniel and my best friend were in love, and a general expectation of their union had existed for some time.

  His frown deepened. “Fine.”

  “You will have to fetch my reticule.” Daniel reached around inside the carriage. “No, Daniel. Right back—no—down there. Yes. Thank you.”

  He shoved my reticule into my arms with a grunt. “John, we’ll hire a carriage in Rosden to take us home.”

  “Are you sure you’d prefer to walk, miss?” John asked. “You could wait till someone passed by.”

  “I’m afraid we would be waiting all day,” I said, retying my bonnet. “I don’t mind the exercise. The road is lined with trees, and we shall walk in the shade.” I slid my hands farther into my kidskin gloves, waved goodbye, and followed Daniel as he trudged down the road. He set so brisk a pace I had to pull on his arm to slow him to a comfortable stroll.

  Before we had walked far, the sight of horses approaching from the direction of Rosden drove us to the side of the road. A carriage much finer than our own, with a coachman and two footmen in livery, slowed to a stop next to us.

  I scarcely had time to note that its coat of arms indicated the carriage belonged to one of the aristocracy before a footman with a rather long nose stepped down. “Pardon me, miss, sir. His lordship means to inquire if you are in need of assistance.”

  Daniel moved forward, but I placed my hand on his arm to stop him. Peers of the realm did not stop to offer assistance to strangers. While Daniel might not have much to fear from the encounter, the idea of being in an unfamiliar carriage with an unknown aristocrat was not a comfortable thought for me.

  Daniel glanced at me. “Please thank his lordship for the inquiry, but we are enjoying a stroll to Rosden.”

  “His lordship would ask you to allow him to convey you to your destination.”

  My grip tightened on Daniel’s arm. Why was this man being so persistent?

  Daniel shook his head. “Again, we thank his lordship, but my sister is quite intent on walking.”

  “You do not wish to be conveyed in his lordship’s carriage?” The footman lifted his chin and peered down his nose at us. It was impossible that he could still see us when he assumed that stance. His nose had to get in the way of his vision.

  The handle to the carriage door turned and the footman scrambled to grasp it. I stifled a gasp as Lord Williams stepped out.

  With such a condescending footman, I should have known.

  Daniel bowed, jostling me, and I bobbed a stiff curtsy before meeting Lord Williams’s icy blue glare with one of my own.

  “It would be my honor to assist you,” Lord Williams said with a slight bow. His words were clipped, his tone formal. I could only imagine how annoying it must be for him to lower himself by offering us assistance.

  “No, thank you.” The sharpness in Daniel’s response was gratifying. “We would not wish to inconvenience you.”

  “I assure you it would be no inconvenience at all.” Even as he spoke the words, the baron rolled his shoulders back as though steeling himself against the probability of having commoners in his carriage.

  Arrogant man. All three of us would have been much better off if he had refrained from stopping.

  The sound of wheels approaching from the other direction turned my attention. An empty hay wagon had maneuvered around our broken carriage and rumbled toward us.

  “Daniel, this man appears to be traveling toward Rosden. Perhaps he will be so good as to provide us with transport so that we need not impose upon his lordship.”

  The driver pulled to a stop. “Is one of you needin’ a lift? The coachman down the way indicated you might.”

  Daniel stepped forward. “My sister and I need to catch a stage in Rosden. Would you mind greatly?”

  The driver glanced at me. “My wagon ain’t fittin’ for a lady.”

  “Oh, I am not afraid of a bit of straw,” I replied.

  Lord Williams stepped forward. “You should not ride in a dirty hay cart when there is a carriage at your disposal.”

  Given his rudeness at the Hickmores’, I should not have been surprised that he was so impertinent as to tell me what I should and should not do. His eyes narrowed at the driver and his lips pulled into a frown, as though his disapproval alone could send the driver on his way.

  Struggling to hide my indignation, I said, “There is no place to turn your carriage, my lord, and that dirty hay cart is headed in the direction we need to go. If, however, you are intent on rendering your services, perhaps you would be so kind as to provide our coachman with conveyance to Welborough. We would certainly be in your debt.”

  Without waiting for a response, I walked to the back of the wagon. “Daniel?”

  Daniel frowned and glanced between me, the baron, and the driver. I tapped my toe to urge him to hurry, but suddenly the baron was beside me. “At least allow me to assist you into the cart.”

  I jerked away from him. “No! I mean, no, thank you. I am able to manage for myself.”

  His lips thinned and he stepped back. I turned my attention to the wagon. Its bed was as high as my thighs and there was no step attached, eliminating any means of easy access. I cursed Daniel’s slowness, knowing I would look foolish insisting on his help after the baron had offered.

  I searched for anything upon which I could step to hoist myself up, but nothing availed itself for my use. My only option appeared to be shuffling in by sitting on the edge of the wagon and swinging my legs up in a most unladylike manner. The floor of the wagon was littered with straw; I would be filthy before I was even able to stand.

  There was no way to enter without help.

  “May I?” The baron hadn’t moved, but his lips were curved into an amused smile.

  I would rather walk for miles than accept his assistance. “On second thought, this wagon is much dirtier than I anticipated, and I find I am rather looking forward to the walk.” I turned my back on the men.

  “Margaret, here.” Daniel appeared next to me and hefted me into the wagon so unceremoniously I fell to my knees.

  The driver quickly extended a hand and helped me to my feet. “Might be best if you remain standin’.”

  I tried to smile, but it felt more like a grimace.

  The wagon rocked as Daniel climbed in. I peeked at the baron through my lashes and found him frowning at me, disapproval expressed in every feature of his plain face. It rankled that he should have so unjustly ruined my future. But as a person of title, he probably never thought about those of us below him in status. I, at least, had shown how little regard I held for him.

  A blossom of smugness replaced my humiliation and I smiled brightly. “Good day, my lord.”

  He met my gaze with the same icy stare as before, which only made my grin bigger. Perhaps one day he would learn to take more care with those around him.

  The footman positioned himself behind the baron, and even though my head was now quite above his, he still managed to look down his nose at me. I had never met such a pair of supercilious people.

  The wagon’s sudden movement forward threw me off balance. I grasped the railing.

  “You made quite an impression,” Daniel said, stepping next to me and grinning.

  “If I did, I owe it all to you,” I muttered.

  “Do you think he’ll offer his aid to John?”

  I shook my head. “He won’t stop for a servant.”

  “Let’s wager on it.”

  “A wager?” I searched my mind for something worth the wager.r />
  “Yes,” Daniel said. “I’ll wager for one lace handkerchief.”

  A lace handkerchief wasn’t enough. “No. You must take Louisa out on the lake. Just the two of you.”

  Daniel scoffed. “She’ll never agree.”

  “Then you have nothing to lose.”

  “Fine. And you’ll have to go with Mr. Lundall.”

  “Daniel!”

  “Those are the terms.”

  Was it worth the risk of losing and having to take a boat ride with a man who refused to accept our incompatibility? I glanced back down the road. The baron’s carriage wasn’t slowing. It was worth it if it got Louisa and Daniel alone together; maybe he’d finally propose. “Agreed.”

  The baron’s carriage passed our own broken carriage. Smirking, I elbowed Daniel. “You lost.”

  “No, look.” The carriage had stopped. The long-nosed footman got down and spoke to John, then moved to the side of the road. John walked to the carriage and took the footman’s place.

  The baron had offered a ride to John after all. It made no sense.

  “Enjoy your solitary time with Mr. Lundall,” Daniel said.

  Five

  The next morning I wound my way across the lawn and down the steps leading to the garden and, a little farther, the path to the lake. We’d arrived home too late for much more than goodnights. I hadn’t even been able to give Alice her present on account of her having already gone to bed with a cold.

  A breeze blew through the trees. Birds called and insects buzzed among the reeds. The calm water, lapping at the shore as though offering a caress, reflected white billowing clouds. A few rocks jettied into the lake, tempting me with the promise that by walking on them I could walk away from all the trouble men like Edward and Lord Williams created. Unwilling to resist their beckoning, I stepped along the dead-end path until water threatened to wet my boots. The air tasted wet and clean. This is exactly what I had missed by being away. This is exactly what I needed today.

  “Margaret!”

  Startled, I flung my arms out to keep from falling into the water and turned to see a chagrined Louisa, her hand covering her mouth. “I’m so sorry,” she exclaimed, her quiet voice barely audible. “I didn’t mean to surprise you.”

  “Louisa. Just the person I hoped to meet.” I made my way back to shore.

  “But what are you doing here? You should be gone at least another few days. Unless—” She gasped with delight. “You are engaged?”

  I shook my head. “I never got the chance.” We walked the path along the shore and I tore a leaf off a tree as I relayed everything that had occurred. “I was so close. Mr. Northam is truly the most perfect man I have ever met.”

  “Is he indeed?” Louisa bent and broke off a flower, adding it to her bouquet. “Have you told your family of him? That much perfection would make me uncomfortable.”

  “You understand I mean perfect for me. I hardly think most would even consider him a good match. And, no, I haven’t told my family. I want it to be official before I give them hope.” I studied her. “You don’t think Daniel is perfect?”

  “No.” Her light skin pinked at her cheeks. “Everyone has faults.”

  “Daniel’s is to make people miserable.”

  “You shouldn’t say such things.”

  “Why not? It is the truth. He made me miserable with his actions, striding in just as I was about to finally rediscover happiness. And he makes you miserable every day by refusing to formally ask for your hand.” If only Daniel wouldn’t allow Edward’s actions to affect his own, he and Louisa would be happily settled and I wouldn’t feel guilty for my role in it, unintended though it was.

  “Please.” She touched my arm. “Let’s not speak of it.”

  I shrugged. “Well, you may not wish to speak ill of him. And I own that he’s a good enough person when he wants to be. But I consider him very high-handed. He even went so far as to tell me that even if Mr. Northam proposed, he wouldn’t let me marry him.”

  “But he has no say in the matter.”

  “Yes, and I reminded him of it, too. I believe he thinks I am getting desperate. He doesn’t understand.”

  “Your brother is protective because he cares for you. He wants what is best for you.” She stopped to add another flower to her bouquet.

  It didn’t matter the reasons behind Daniel’s actions. “Making someone live the way you think they should is not caring. He should encourage me—”

  “Margaret! Over here!” Daniel waved from the top of a large boulder that lay half buried in the water. He was barely visible through the trees. His arm froze when Louisa stepped next to me. He jerked his hand down, stepped back, stumbled off the rock, and disappeared into the water.

  “Oh, dear!” Louisa exclaimed.

  Daniel reemerged, gasping, clearly uninjured though his hair was plastered to his face and his clothes clung to him.

  “I think I should go,” Louisa whispered. But she didn’t move, her attention fixed on Daniel. It must have been a riveting sight for the man she loved to be standing so ridiculously wet before her. A titter escaped me.

  Louisa turned bright pink. “I—oh.” She thrust the flowers into my hand, turned, and fled back down the path.

  I would definitely tell this story at their wedding dinner.

  As I walked to the boulder, Daniel slogged to the shore, looking more ridiculous than I had ever seen him. Served him right.

  I tried to hold in my amusement, but a snort sounded at the back of my throat. I threw my hand over my mouth as laughter erupted from me. Daniel had embarrassed himself more effectively than any scheme I could have ever executed. If I had been at all adept at painting, I would have immortalized Daniel exactly as he appeared then, cravat hanging limp, coat and vest clinging to him. Then I would have hung the portrait in our entry.

  No. I would have given it to Louisa for a wedding present so she could hang it in her entry.

  “Margaret, this is not funny!” Daniel strode out of the water, his boots squishing with each step.

  The sound made me laugh harder. “Yes, it is.” I leaned on the boulder, no longer trying to restrain the laughs.

  Water suddenly ran down my hair into my face. I gasped and straightened. “Daniel!”

  He smirked, shaking out the coat he had twisted above me. He draped it over his arm and propped an elbow on the stone. “Refreshing, isn’t it?”

  A swampy smell now clung to me as water trickled down my back. Anger and laughter battled within. “No! It’s revolting and wet and—and—” The image of Daniel stepping off the rock flashed and I gave up on anger. “And highly amusing.”

  Daniel scowled and struggled out of his waistcoat as though it were a competitor in a wrestling match. “I assume Louisa ran off after my . . . accident.”

  “Admit it,” I said, setting the bouquet next to me. “The whole situation is laughable.”

  His lips twitched. “You’re absolutely correct.” He lunged and wrapped his arms around me in a tight hug. I shrieked at the sudden damp.

  “Just wanted to assure you I harbor no ill feelings.” His own chuckling rang through the air.

  I shoved against him, breaking free of his grip. “Ill feelings for what?”

  “For surprising me with Louisa’s presence. Now help me off with my boots.”

  “It was not my fault you were perched on that boulder,” I objected.

  He lifted a leg and held it out to me. His boots were covered in gooey mud.

  “Daniel, they’re filthy. I’ll ruin my dress.”

  “You’re wet, so you already have to change. Come on.”

  “My being wet is completely your fault, as is the condition of your boots. Don’t blame your clumsiness on me.” But he was in obvious discomfort, so I stepped forward to help.

  Once the boots were off, he dumped
the water out of them and looked at me. “You look like you’ve been rolling in the mud.”

  My dress was covered in green and brown slime. I threw my hands in the air in exasperation.

  His smile turned more genuine. “Thank you for your help.”

  I held out my now mud-splattered dress to assess the damage. “At least this wasn’t one of my favorites.”

  He stripped off his dripping shirt and threw it on top of his vest, coat, and necktie. “That’s better.”

  He was now bare from the waist up. “Daniel, what if someone sees you? You should at least retain your shirt.”

  “Who’s going to see me?”

  “Louisa?”

  He shook his head. “I’ll be lucky if she ever returns.” He wrestled his feet back into his boots. “We need to hurry if we’re going to change before breakfast.”

  Piling his clothes in one arm, he threw his other arm over my shoulder and we headed up the path, sniggering at the squish of his boots.

  By the time the roof and upper floor of our pink-stone country house rose into view, Daniel’s hair had frizzed from drying in the sun. A smile of contentment covered his face. It was as good a time as any. “Why don’t you formally ask for Louisa’s hand?”

  His smile faltered. His arm slipped from my shoulder and dropped to his side.

  “Make it official,” I pressed.

  The smile disappeared. “Not yet.”

  “You don’t want her suffering through another season, do you? What if her parents determine she’s waited long enough and begin to doubt your intentions?”

  He shook his head. “They’d never doubt my intentions.”

  How he could believe that, considering the actions of their own son, was beyond me. “Daniel, they would be foolish not to after what Edward did.”

  “I am not him,” Daniel said firmly. “I will ask her once I have a solid income. You know that.”

  “You are set to inherit this.” I swept my hand through the air to indicate the house and all the land surrounding us. “Surely Father will help you. And with Louisa’s dowry—”