BaronAndEnchantress_PGolden-eBooks

by Golden, Paullett

  Chapter 13

  The clink of wine glasses echoed in Lilith’s ears, cacophonous to the rumble of voices around her.

  Her mind tumbled away from the present. Only a handful of anticipatory days before Walter would arrive, riding a white stallion, armed with the words of love and devotion needed to whisk her away to his palace in Devon.

  What a ridiculously romantic vision!

  Smiling to herself, she turned her attention to whatever Mrs. Copeland had been saying during the toast. Oh, yes, something heroic her sister-in-law did when they were younger. Lilith looked around the table at the guests, all smiles and bright eyes, their happiness haloed by candlelight.

  This evening was Mrs. Elliot’s birthday, Mrs. Elliot being Mrs. Copeland’s sister-in-law. During the celebration, Mrs. Elliot, middle-aged and slight of frame with anxious eyes too large for her slender face, busied herself with embroidery, her needle moving to and fro. Her house was a cozy, but cluttered, cottage. Tawdry porcelain figures of shepherds and shepherdesses decorated the house, including the dining table. Mrs. Copeland regaled the guests with stories of Mrs. Elliot’s youth, their childhood homes being adjacent farms.

  Lilith was having a grand enough time, but her mind wandered through the whole of the evening, even during charades when her failure to guess three turns in a row brought unwanted attention from Mr. Sands.

  Her companion for the evening was supposed to have been Miss Tolkey. Lilith learned the grandmother had taken ill only after arriving to their house to meet Miss Tolkey for the walk back across the village to Mrs. Copeland’s. She understood; of course, she did. That did not keep her from feeling ever so slightly annoyed that a message of apology had not been sent in advance, for it was not a short walk, and her dinner slippers were not kind to feet after traipsing gravel, dirt, and rocks for miles.

  Pained by the memory, she slipped her feet out of the shoes under the discretion of the table and rubbed a sore sole against the top of one foot and then the other.

  Mr. Sands turned to her and guffawed at whatever turn in the story had been told. Lilith returned a smile. Tedious. She did not suppose the evening would have been better if she had sat at the table next to Miss Tolkey rather than Harry Sands, but it could not possibly have been worse. How peculiar life was.

  She recalled her first dinner this summer at Dunstanburgh Castle with her brother and her sister-in-law’s family. The evening had felt much like this. Awkward. She had hardly known what to say or how to act. They had pelted her with questions and been shocked by her honest and vulgar answers. That had changed over the course of a month. With each meal, she felt more comfortable, more open, more at home, especially considering most meals offered an exclusive conversation with Walter. And now she felt out of place with her oldest and dearest friends. They had families and lives and homes, even histories of their own, but she was just a guest who did not quite belong.

  That was grossly unfair. She did belong. Except, she did not.

  Oh, it was no use making sense of her feelings. She wanted Walter, and that was the truth of the matter. She wanted Walter, but she did not want the life that came with him. At some point, she would need to decide. He had made his intentions clear. Could she live in his world? Conversely, could she live in her world without him?

  Ah, the guests were rising. Lilith exhaled in relief. How ungrateful of her. Mrs. Copeland and Mrs. Elliot could not be kinder or gentler souls, and they were so pleased she had accepted the invitation. But she wanted to be home. She wanted to think of Walter in peace.

  Mr. Sands stood and offered his arm to Lilith. Announcing to the table rather than to her, he said, “I’ll see Miss Chambers safely home.”

  There was no time to protest, for all exclaimed how chivalrous he was.

  Mrs. Turnbow said, “You are the soul of kindness, Mr. Sands.” Turning to Lilith, she said, “Did you know he walked Miss Tolkey to and from the orphanage every day during your absence? I daresay, he will make a devoted husband to the young woman lucky enough to ensnare him!”

  All at the table laughed, especially the rector.

  “I must see to the safety of my flock, Mrs. Turnbow.” With a bow to all, he tucked Lilith’s arm under his own and led her out of the house and down the lane.

  Lilith sighed, a captive.

  A bright flash of light streaked across the sky followed by a clap of thunder.

  “We had best quicken our pace, Miss Chambers, unless we want to be caught in the rain.”

  Thank heavens for small favors, she thought. Without the motivation of the coming rain, he might have dawdled at a snail’s pace to lengthen the walk.

  If she had hoped for a silent walk, such hopes were to be crushed beneath the rector’s heel.

  “I couldn’t have asked for a better ending to the evening than to have this quiet moment with you. I’ll get to the point lest it rain away this opportunity. The Earl of Roddam and his companion arrive within days, Miss Chambers. There is not a moment to lose. Shall we make the announcement as soon as they arrive or host a dinner to celebrate?”

  With a hollow laugh, she said, “Your meaning escapes me. What announcement?”

  He raised her hand to his lips for a thin-lipped kiss before lacing his fingers with hers. Involuntarily, she shuddered. With a determined tug, she tried to free herself.

  “Why, the announcement of our betrothal, of course,” he said, tightening his hold on her hand. “I’ve observed you since your return, and I know you’re contented with your life here. I know you’ve come to your senses after seeing where you don’t belong. It’s time you realized your place. By my side, that is. I can protect you from criticism, Lilith.”

  Still attempting to pull free of his grasp, she said, “I do beg your pardon, but we are not betrothed.”

  Another flash of lightning revealed her cottage in the near distance. She could not get there fast enough. Alas, it was not to be. He halted their progress and turned to face her, her hand held hostage.

  “You’re right, of course. This must be done properly.” To her mortification, he went down on one knee, taking her hand with him. “Lilith Chambers, will you do me the honor of making me the happiest of men by uniting in holy matrimony? Before you answer, look to your heart. You know I will protect you from judgment and ridicule. With a man of God at your side, no one would dare criticize your birth, your time in an orphanage, or your rustic ways. No one would dare speak ill of your age or your features, which may not be the prettiest to most men, but do appeal to a man such as myself. Can you not see how I am struck by Cupid’s dart?”

  She hoped in desperation for lightning to strike her to end the humiliation of this moment. If his words had been ones of adoration…. If his proposal had come before she knew of her brother…. Well, if circumstances were different, she might have considered his suit, for at one time he had been a devoted friend. Now, greed illuminated his features with each flash of lightning.

  “Harry, do stand up.”

  “Are you not convinced by my ardor? What can I do to prove to you my feelings?”

  In a swift movement, he rose to his feet and pulled her against him, pressing his mouth to hers. She shrieked, the sound muffled by his kiss. With closed lips tightly pursed, he held himself to her. The kiss only lasted a moment, but through her panic, she realized she felt nothing from from it save revulsion and the sweat on his upper lip. Tensing, she took a step back and pulled herself free.

  Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she said, “Harry. I did not give you permission for such familiarity. No, I will not marry you. I appreciate all you have done for me, but I will not marry you. Please, do not ask me again.”

  Try as she might to keep her tone even and courteous, she could hear the shake of her voice, the tremor of fear. Oh, it was not he she feared, for he meant well, but she feared her future in Allshire if he found her ungrateful to his ki
ndness.

  The thunder clapped only seconds after the lightning, the storm fast approaching. His features shadowed as the moon hid behind shifting clouds. There was a chill to the air, from the wind or the moment, she did not know. She shivered.

  “You’re conceited,” he said, stepping away. “I had hoped staying with your brother would show you your place, but I see it has had the opposite effect. You now think yourself above your station. Might I remind you, Miss Chambers, you are illegitimate. Your birth is a sin. By associating with your brother’s in-laws as a single woman of low birth, you bring shame to their family. Only I can bring you respectability. Only I can give you a name. Only I can cleanse your sins. Only I.”

  Her anger rising, she asked, “If I’m all these terrible things, why do you wish to marry me? Why me?”

  “Because I’m selfless and wish to help you. I think only of you. I see myself in a position to save you.”

  “Do you even desire me? Have you ever desired me?” Questions she did not want answered.

  He recoiled, a hand to his heart. “How could you speak of such vulgarity? Marital relations is a duty, nothing more.”

  “And what of children? Wouldn’t you be ashamed to have children with an illegitimate woman? A woman born of desire that had nothing to do with procreation?” She was going too far, she knew, but she could not stop herself before the words tumbled out.

  “A marriage of God’s will would absolve you of the sins of your birth.”

  “In that case, why could I not marry anyone of my choosing?”

  “I would keep your secret safe, and I would have God’s blessing to do so. To marry another, you would bring scandal to the family. Do not think me chastising you, Miss Chambers, for I’m not a vengeful man, but only I have the ability to make you respectable, for God is on my side. This is your last chance, your only chance to absolve yourself. If you don’t accept me, you’ll not receive another offer, and you’ll forever be a lonely spinster, aged, illegitimate, and without family. I offer you this final chance because I’m a giving man devoted to helping others. Accept me.”

  Lilith did not know until she analyzed her actions much later why she answered as she did. This was not his concern. This was something she did not want known. This was something about which she had not made up her mind.

  And yet she blurted out to him, “You’re wrong. You are not my only or even my last chance. Baron Collingwood is paying me court.”

  As soon as the words left her lips, she wished to recall them. It was a wonder her hand did not fly to cover her mouth.

  The rector’s affect changed.

  His spine erect, his lips sliding into scorn, he retorted, “Either you’re a fool for thinking his intentions chaste, or he’s a fool for thinking you eligible, if you speak the truth. Your conceit will be your undoing. I take my leave of you, Miss Chambers.”

  Turning on his heels, his movements stilted, he left her.

  On shaky legs, she scurried to her cottage just as a black cloud opened in the heavens and released a downpour to rival the great flood.

  Once inside the safety of the dry interior, she leaned against the door and shivered in violent tremors, chilled inside and out.

  What had she done? Oh, no, oh, no. What had she done?

  He was not an enemy she needed. But she now had to face the repercussions of so boldly rejecting him and admitting to the courtship. Perhaps her fears were unwarranted. For years, she had respected and admired him. He had been a good friend. Time and again, she had called on him for advice in dealing with the uncomfortable situations she encountered as a midwife, as well as advice on how to handle some of the more mischievous children at the orphanage. She had liked him as a friend and confidante.

  How had she been so naïve not to see through him before? Had he always been this way, or had greed of her brother’s wealth, a possible dowry, and a titled connection wheedled at him until it brought forth his baser nature?

  Regardless from where his intentions stemmed, his words of bringing shame to the family weighed heavily on her, for she knew them to be true. The scandal of a titled man marrying an illegitimate woman would destroy Walter’s family and hers. It was for selfish reasons she had agreed to Walter’s courtship. What did she think would happen when he arrived? Did she think they would fall in love, marry, and live happily ever after? The more fool she.

  Chapter 14

  If Walter expected a peaceful morning to ready himself, he thought wrong. Kory had only just finished shaving him when Roddam knocked to warn him that a veritable army had arrived at the inn to greet them. With a splash of cologne, a comb through his curls, and a final adjustment to his cravat, Kory sent Walter to meet his fate.

  The pair had arrived at the parish before dawn. The timing awarded them a chance to repose and refresh.

  Though the sun had barely risen, they had passed their fair share of villagers, some stopping to watch the approach of handsome strangers in riding finery. A few children had stepped out of houses to wave, as dazzled by the luggage coach—wherein their valets rode in the jostling comforts of Walter’s well-sprung carriage—as by the gentlemen. Walter and Roddam had waved in return.

  Clearly, word had spread of their arrival. Given the size of the parish, Walter supposed everyone knew before breaking their fast.

  It was just as well. He could hardly contain the mounting anticipation of seeing her. Would she be part of the welcoming committee? Would she run to him, arms wide, for a scandalously public embrace? That would not be her style, but it did not stop him from fantasizing.

  A month! How had he survived a month without her company? The idea had been genius, though. This would enable him to court her on her terms. There were other benefits, as well. He needed to know what it was like to miss her—interminable. She needed to know if she could leave her home and friends to live a life amongst the beau monde. And they both needed to know if they liked each other in a more natural setting, without staying under the same roof with family. Walter could not see himself changing his mind about her, but this would help her come to terms with her affection for him, for he fully intended to propose at the end of the visit.

  Roddam waited outside Walter’s suite.

  “You didn’t want to steal center stage by venturing down alone?” Walter jested.

  Roddam grimaced. “The only thing I’m steeling is myself for the onslaught of forelock-tugging sycophants. My hope is they’ll fawn over you for being better dressed.”

  Roddam slapped Walter on the shoulder and pushed him forward, as though to use him as a human shield. Dressed with a winning smile, Walter strode downstairs to meet the eager faces.

  Standing in the commons were the innkeeper and his wife, a clergyman, a smartly dressed gentleman who looked of Walter’s ilk, and a handful of nondescript onlookers who peered over shoulders to see the two newcomers. The smartly dressed gentleman approached first to shake Roddam’s hand before turning to Walter. Roddam, who had been here on more than one occasion over the past year, conducted introductions.

  “Allow me to introduce to you Sir Eugene Graham. Sir Eugene, this is Lady Roddam’s cousin, Baron Collingwood.”

  “The pleasure is mine,” Sir Eugene said with a nod. “But please, I’d rather Gene. Only my mother calls me Eugene, and that’s when I’ve displeased her.”

  The baronet spoke and dressed with far more polish than Walter would have expected in this remote village. He was a tall and thin man with an ample wave of blond hair. He apologized for his wife’s absence. Lady Graham was in a delicate way and feeling indisposed, he explained. Onlookers listened curiously to the light conversation, including an invitation for them to dine at Arbor House the next evening.

  Stepping aside, Sir Gene urged the clergyman forward.

  The young man, mid-twenties if Walter hazarded a guess, looked as though he would have an unmanly fit of vapors i
f left ignored for much longer. He was exactly the type Walter knew Roddam could not stand. Ingratiating and obsequious. Walter scolded himself for thinking ill of a man of the cloth, but the fellow was vile. He gave Walter the shudders with his too-wide grin and knee-scraping demeanor.

  Granted, if he were not groveling at Roddam’s feet, he might have been a decent looking man. Medium build, a tad on the short side, at least compared to Walter and Roddam who were taller than average, angular face with hazel eyes and a well-combed head of black hair. Not that Walter paid attention to such things, but he would assume the man a favorite amongst the ladies, if they could look past the weak chin and light array of pockmarks.

  Roddam scowled. “May I introduce the parish rector, the Reverend Harold Sands?”

  Walter was sorely tempted to say no.

  “How do you do, Mr. Sands? Lord Collingwood” Walter said, extending a hand. “If I might add, my father’s name was Harold, as well. Harold Hobbs, the ninth Baron Collingwood.”

  The man, who had been staring up at Roddam in wide-eyed worship, turned scornful eyes to Walter.

  “How fortunate I am to share the name of so great a man,” said the rector.

  Though the man accepted Walter’s hand in a limp and clammy grasp and bowed over it, Walter did not fail to notice a slight hesitation. He searched his memory for any mention of a rector in Lilith’s tales of Allshire, but he could not immediately recall anything. Before he could analyze further, a flurry of movement by the door caught the attention of all those in the common room.

  And there she stood.

  Walter was thunderstruck, not for the first time, upon seeing her. She stepped into the room with a radiant smile, flushed cheeks, and a halo of frantic frizzes, her hair windswept as though she raced to the inn from across town. She looked first to Roddam and then to Walter. Her gaze lingered before turning back to her brother.

  The rector interrupted the reunion by stepping to Lilith and taking her arm, linking it through his rather than the more respectable placement on top of his sleeve. A rush of liquid jealousy fueled Walter’s veins. How ridiculous to be jealous of such a man, but he could not stop the feeling once it started, especially given how familiar the movement seemed to Mr. Sands. He ground his teeth as he watched the two approach Roddam.