I could barely think with him being so close. Yet there was mirth in his eyes. “Are you—laughing—at me?”
“It seems you’ve become a little confused, Miss Brinton. I assure you, this is not the sound of laughter.”
“I have not become confused. I have become. . . .” My gaze dropped to his lips and I lost any desire to speak.
“Do you know what I’ve become?” He stepped toward me and I backed against the wall. When he leaned closer, I realized I was trapped. Not that I had any desire to escape.
“What have you become?” I asked, my voice little more than a whisper.
He leaned even closer. How could he get closer and still not touch me? “I have become a man haunted by your smile, by the music of your voice. I’m filled with a need to see you, to be close to you. Even when I should be away seeing to my responsibilities, I find myself unable to be parted from you.”
My hesitation evaporated and all my uncertainties drained away. He wanted me as much as I wanted him.
I lifted my brows in mock innocence, struggling to appear unaffected. “Should you be seeing to responsibilities now? I’m sorry to be keeping you. I’d hate to be blamed for the estate falling apart.”
He straightened. “You’re right. Where is my hat?” He turned away, and this time I grabbed his hand.
“Gregory.” I slid my fingers between his.
He was again instantly before me. “Margaret.” His voice sounded almost pained. He leaned an arm against the wall above me, his face close to mine. “I couldn’t leave you, even in jest.” His gaze swept to my forehead, my lips, and back to my eyes. “You have captured my heart completely. I surrender to you.”
There was no verbal response I could give. I reached up and slid my thumb along his cheek.
He closed his eyes. A small groan escaped his throat. “Are you deliberately torturing me?”
My thumb traced down his cheek to his bottom lip. A lip I desperately wanted to feel against my own. His eyes popped open and his arm flew around my waist, drawing me against him. “I knew I was in trouble the moment Mrs. Hickmore introduced you.”
“Oh, come Williams. Love at first sight?” Mr. Northam’s voice cut through the haze surrounding me. “Even you can do better than that.”
The compromising situation I found myself in made me flinch, and Gregory’s grip around me loosened, his expression changing to one of hopelessness. But I didn’t move out of his arms.
“I don’t think your father would approve of such an embrace, Miss Brinton. Not even I was so scandalous.”
It was indeed scandalous, but there was no question of what would follow a kiss this time; Gregory was no Mr. Northam. We had declared our feelings to each other. All we needed was to make it official.
Gregory, though, dropped his arm from me completely. He stepped back and leaned against the wall, his head against a fist, jaw clenched and eyes closed.
I placed a hand on his arm. Mr. Northam could have no doubt about my decision. “What do you want, Mr. Northam?”
Mr. Northam smiled and leaned casually against the door frame. “I want to tell you a story. The same one I told your father last night. It goes something like this: boy meets girl, boy falls for girl, boy’s cousin reveals the truth to girl. . . .”
“Get out, Northam,” Gregory growled.
“And miss watching this unfold? I think not.”
It took me a moment to register what Mr. Northam had said. “Boy’s cousin reveals the truth to girl?” My touch on Gregory’s arm became uncertain.
Mr. Northam smiled. “Didn’t you ever wonder why a baron was so interested in an untitled and only moderately wealthy woman?”
Gregory pushed off the wall and faced his cousin. “Shut up, Northam.”
“He’s already told me everything,” I said. But that wasn’t true, and Gregory and I both knew it.
“Did he tell you about the wager?”
A wager? My hand dropped from Gregory’s arm. Mr. Northam’s smile grew.
“Northam, leave. Now.” Gregory’s voice was hard with anger.
I placed my hand back on Gregory’s arm, only this time it was to keep him from interrupting. “What wager?” I asked quietly.
Mr. Northam’s gaze held mine. “When Old Lord Williams was dying, his last wish was that Williams here persuade me to change my dissolute ways. And Williams promised to do whatever it took.”
“I promised my father, yes, but I did not agree to your terms.”
Mr. Northam’s smile held condescension. “You’re too far in to go back now.”
I glanced between them. Gregory’s fists were clenched at his side, his jaw muscle working rapidly. Mr. Northam looked completely at ease. He seemed to be enjoying every second of Gregory’s discomfort.
“You remember I mentioned our disagreement, don’t you, Miss Brinton? Where my lord believes women would choose him over me, title or no? Well, I promised that if he could win a kiss honorably from any woman of our joint choosing before I obtained that kiss through my own means, I would reform. You are the lucky woman he agreed to.”
I stared at Mr. Northam, too shocked to speak.
Mr. Northam pushed off the wall and walked to me. “Don’t take it to heart. It really has nothing to do with you at all. Just your lips.”
“That’s not true,” Gregory said, taking my hand. My mind churned but didn’t seem to be processing what had been said.
“No?” Mr. Northam asked, smirking at him. “Then why did you race to her house and demand an engagement from her father when you realized you were going to lose?”
“A wager?” I asked, unable to believe it. Yet Mr. Northam’s expression exuded truth. Gregory had said himself that he’d chosen me to end Mr. Northam’s games. I focused on Gregory. His expression was earnest, his eyes asking me not to believe it. Yet within them was the confession—what Mr. Northam said was the truth.
There had been all those times when Gregory had first arrived and I’d felt as though I was pure entertainment, that my life had been a game to him.
I’d been correct. He hadn’t been interested in me. He’d been trying to win a kiss.
My stomach knotted.
Pulling my hand from Gregory’s, I staggered a step away from both men.
Mr. Northam smiled. “Was he that convincing? Congratulations, Williams. Your skills must be improving. Have you been practicing behind my back? Leaving a trail of broken hearts wherever you go?” He laughed. “You know, if I hadn’t interrupted you just now, you might have won. Of course, it only seemed fair to interrupt, since a similar inconvenience occurred when I was just as close.”
I had almost let Mr. Northam kiss me. I had wanted him to. And Gregory. . . .
I felt unsteady, lightheaded. “This was all a joke to you. To both of you. I was a joke.”
Gregory shook his head. “No, Margaret. It was never like that.”
“Margaret?” Mr. Northam looked at me with interest. “I underestimated you, Williams. Tell me, Margaret, do you address my cousin as Gregory?”
The heat of embarrassment crept up my neck. What a fool I was.
Mr. Northam stepped in front of me. In a lowered voice, he said, “You blush beautifully.”
Gregory was between us before I’d opened my mouth to reply. “Get out, Northam. You are no longer welcome here.”
Mr. Northam laughed. “I will. But not before I win.”
He shoved Gregory aside, grabbed me, and kissed me, hard.
I pushed against him but couldn’t back away until he let me go. I ran my arm over my mouth in an effort to wipe away the taste and the feel of his lips on mine, though I couldn’t wipe away how Mr. Northam’s eyes gleamed with victory and amusement. “How does it feel to be kissed by a real man, Margaret?” He started humming the song he’d requested I play for him at the Hickmores’. The one Gregory had pla
yed last night.
I finally understood. That song was some sort of victory song for them. And I hadn’t even been the prize. I’d been the paper they’d used to make their boats, neither of them caring that I would eventually become waterlogged and sink.
Gregory’s fist connected with Mr. Northam’s smile. Mr. Northam hit a chair before falling to the ground.
“What is going on here?” my father roared from the doorway, his anger more severe than I’d ever seen. When his gaze found mine, though, the pain in his eyes stopped my heart.
“Father?”
“Margaret, an express has arrived. We are leaving.”
An express. The room emptied of air. “Alice has—” A lump formed in my throat and I couldn’t speak past it.
“No. Not yet. But there is not much hope. We must return home as soon as possible.”
Not Alice. My father must be mistaken. But the deadly reality showed in the sagging creases of his frown and the rounding of his shoulders.
“Margaret.” Gregory was beside me, an arm around me.
This was what I’d wanted. I’d wanted him.
But Alice was dying because of this wager. And I—
I had been duped again.
“Let me go,” I whispered.
“The wager may have played a part in the beginning, but I promise, all I’ve said is true.”
I shoved out of his arms. “My sister is dying because of you.”
Even now, though, I wanted to be enfolded in his arms.
Naive, fickle heart.
My father stepped forward and put a hand on my shoulder, turning his back to Gregory. “I am sorry for all that has happened. But we must be strong.” His eyes glistened with threatening tears. His hand, instead of comforting, felt cold and heavy and final.
Was there ever a time when I did not have to be strong? A lake of exhaustion settled on me. I lifted my chin and forced a smile, but I had to swallow before I could say, “Of course, Father.”
He offered me his arm. I slid under it, settling it on my shoulder and wrapping my arm around his middle. He squeezed me to him. “Let’s go home.”
Thirty-Five
My father stood in the door to my room while I collected my traveling cloak and ensured my trunk was packed. As we descended the stairs, thoughts of Mr. Northam and Gregory threatened at the back of my mind like hounds ready to tear me apart.
Struggling to focus entirely on Alice, I allowed my anxiety for her to fill my mind, my ache for her to flood my chest and bury the confusion and pain hovering there.
Gregory and Lady Williams awaited us as we exited the house. Lady Williams stepped forward first. “I am so sorry you have to go. You do not know how much I have enjoyed your visit.”
I studied her, wondering if she had been in on the charade. But her eyes held real disappointment. “You have been so kind. Thank you.”
She took my hand and gave it a squeeze. “I do hope you find the situation at home better than the express has led us to believe.”
I bit my trembling lip. “Thank you, your ladyship.”
Gregory stepped forward.
I curtsied before he could say anything. “My lord.” Then I turned and walked a few steps toward the river. Its constant movement eased a bit of the disquiet within me, its gentle shushing prodding me to be at peace.
“Please don’t leave like this,” Gregory whispered behind me.
“How am I supposed to leave?”
He hesitated, then laid a gentle hand on my back. “I don’t know. I just know it shouldn’t be like this.”
Even now I craved his touch, his presence.
“My lord,” my father said. Gregory’s hand fell away as he turned to address my father.
Something fluttered in the water. I walked a few steps toward it before realizing what it was: one of the boats had gotten stuck on the branch of the tree. It would never go anywhere, never be free. It would struggle until the river rose or the branch broke. Then it would sink.
I turned and made my way to the carriage, where a footman waited to assist me. When I held out my hand, though, Gregory clasped it.
Caught off guard, I looked up.
His face had become so familiar it was a wonder we had ever been strangers. That we would return to being strangers.
“Margaret. I’m sorry.”
I forced a smile. “At least our time together has been diverting.” My voice broke and I turned away. I couldn’t bear to look into his eyes, not when they were filled with the warmth and desire I had grown to love.
I moved to step into the carriage, but had only placed my foot on the step when he raised my hand and brought it to his lips.
I loved the feel of my hand in his, loved the way he looked at me still. And I couldn’t help it—I longed to be with him. Longed to find a way to make everything that had happened matter, for it not to have been only for a wager.
But I knew the truth. I had been duped again.
I had known from the first that he wasn’t for me. I should never have allowed myself to think of him as Gregory. He should have been, and now forever would be, Lord Williams.
I just had to convince my heart of it.
“Goodbye, Lord Williams,” I said softly, tugging my gloved hand out of his. Before evidence of my despair made me look more the fool, I scooted to the far corner of the carriage.
My father entered directly after. Lord Williams stepped to the carriage door once it was secured.
“Mr. Brinton. Miss Brinton.”
He lingered a second, his gaze on me, before stepping back. With a nod from him, the carriage jerked forward.
Resisting the urge to look through the window for one last glimpse of the man I loved, I asked, “What does the letter say, father?”
“It begs us to come home, to say our goodbyes.”
Goodbyes? How did I say goodbye to someone who was such a part of me, such a part of each of us? Considering my experiences, I should have been quite proficient. Yet the hole in my heart that seemed to grow the farther we drove from Lord Williams proved I had not yet mastered the task.
My father cleared his throat. “Margaret, is what Mr. Northam told me last night true?”
The pieces of my heart that were still intact crumbled and disappeared, swept away by unshed tears. “I don’t think it matters anymore.” I closed my eyes to shut out the world, forcing an image of Alice sick in bed to fill my mind, demanding she take her proper place of most import.
My father didn’t speak again, but after we had passed through the gate marking our exit from Lord Williams’s estate, he took my hand and held it for a long time.
My mother rushed out of the house as the carriage stopped at the door, white apron covering her green day dress. When my father stepped down, she fell into his arms. “I am so glad you have come.”
“Are we too late?” His voice was quiet.
She shook her head.
He let out a heavy sigh of relief. “And Parson Andrews?”
“He came this morning. We did not know when you would be home.”
“Will she last the night?” My father’s hushed words sent a chill through me.
“I don’t—I. . . .” My mother buried her head in my father’s chest.
“Come.”
She covered her face with her hands and allowed my father to lead her into the house.
I’d still held out hope that it wasn’t as bad as the letter had said, that things had seemed exaggerated in print. But now, there was no doubt.
Following them inside, head bowed, I shed my bonnet, gloves, and coat, trying not to notice how small our hall felt nor how low the ceiling. Daniel intercepted me as I made my way to the stairs.
“Margaret, how did you find Lord Williams’s estate?”
I frowned. “It was fine.”
/>
“What else?”
I watched my parents walk up the stairs. “What else is there? It is a lovely place. If you ever have the opportunity to visit, I suggest you take it.” My parents disappeared and I finally looked at Daniel. His expression was curious, but it was too earnest for casual conversation. Being home all this time, unable to leave in case he was needed, must have made him feel trapped; would that we had traded places and he had gone instead of me. Although it was quite likely that he was merely upset not to know how his joke had played out. “Or perhaps you were referring to Mr. Lundall’s visit? Even that was not as objectionable as you likely intended, though it was a shock at first. I do not begrudge you your laugh.”
“I was not referring to Mr. Lundall. I am referring to the estate. Did you approve of it?”
“It was fine, Daniel. I don’t know what more you want me to say. I’d like to see Alice.”
“And Lord Williams? Am I soon to welcome him into the family or did you really ruin your chances with him?”
Alice. I needed to focus on Alice. And pretend that none of what had occurred at Lord Williams’s mattered to me. I could do this. I would be strong. “Neither Lord Williams nor Mr. Northam had any true interest in me, so there was nothing to ruin.”
“Northam found you?” Daniel’s tone filled with anger and disgust.
I would explain this once, and then hopefully it would never come up again. “The only interest either of them ever held toward me was the winning of a long-standing wager.” My voice caught and I had to take a breath before I could continue. “That is why Mr. Northam showed interest in me at the Hickmores’. That is why Lord Williams concocted this scheme of an engagement. I turned out to be a way to best his cousin.” As I said the words, my chest felt as though it would cave inward. I had trusted Lord Williams, had broken my promise by loving him. I loved him still. And yet it was all over. Again.
“That cannot be true. You must be mistaken.”
Did he think I was making it all up? Could he not see I was struggling to stay afloat as it was?
No—I would not sink. I rolled my shoulders back. Edward had not ruined my life. Neither would Lord Williams. Mr. Northam and Lord Williams had wished for nothing more than a few weeks’ entertainment. I was not going to mourn at being their tossed-over plaything. I had a sister to attend to.
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