by Meara Platt
Her mother nodded. “Indeed, Vi. I’ve never seen her so happy. She’s glowing.”
Her father wasn’t nearly so generous. “Hush, my dear. You’ll only encourage her folly.”
Vi thumped her cane on the polished wood floor. “If the duke isn’t troubled by your daughter, why should anyone else be? You gentlemen instigated this bargain and now must see it to the end. This discussion is over. Frances and I shall take our leave now.”
Charles reached out to assist Vi to her feet. “A pleasure to see you, Lady Brazelton.”
“You’re a good man, Charles. I know these past few weeks have been as hard on you as they have been on Frances. Take heart, my boy. You shall be happily married before the end of this year. All will be as it should be. Mark my words.”
He didn’t appear in the least heartened or enthusiastic. Was he regretting his offer? Frances felt her heart quicken with hope. Goodness, that would be wonderful! She really had to speak to him as soon as possible and put an end to this well-intentioned mistake.
She smiled warmly as he escorted her and Vi to the door, and before taking her leave of him arranged to meet him after Lord Danforth’s ball when they could chat in private. Vi, ever her champion, invited him over for drinks after the ball. “The two of you have much to catch up on,” she said.
Her father joined them a moment later, for this was his home and no matter how irritated he was with Vi, he was not about to insult her. Vi had no such qualms about berating her father, however. She stared at him pointedly and thumped her cane on the floor once more to emphasize her next words. “No matter what the outcome of the dare, I expect you to take your daughter back with open arms. You shall hear from me if you fail to do so. Good day to you all.”
Charles helped Vi into her waiting carriage and then held out his hand to help Frances climb in. “Frances,” he said, sounding rather resigned, “I’ll bring my carriage around to Lady Brazelton’s to pick you up tomorrow evening.”
“Yes, that would be—”
“No, Charles.” Apparently, Vi wasn’t done tossing orders. She poked her head out of the carriage window. “Frances and I shall meet you at Lord Danforth’s home.” She then turned to Frances’ father. “Charles and his parents will come around to pick up Meredith at eight o’clock sharp. She will attend this ball. Make certain she’s ready.”
There was neither a question nor a request posed in her parting words. This was a command from Edinburgh’s reigning society empress. No one countermanded Lady Viola Brazelton’s edicts. Frances breathed a sigh of relief as she settled in the seat across from the lovable harridan. “Thank you, Vi. This ball is all anyone has been talking about for months. Meredith would have been crushed if forbidden to go.”
“I know, my dear.” A sly smile crept across Vi’s lightly wrinkled face as the carriage jerked to a start and began to clatter down the busy street. “Little escapes my ancient eyes.”
“They’re very sharp eyes.” But her smile slipped as Vi continued to stare at her. “What’s wrong?”
“Hopefully nothing, but as I said, little escapes my notice. Fee, you have a problem. What are you going to do about it?”
Frances stifled her panic. Did Viola know how she felt about Robbie? “I’m not—”
Vi held up her hand. “Spare me the denials. This old battle-ax has been around too long to be fooled. So I shall repeat the question. What will you do now that you’re engaged to the wrong man?”
“Quietly break it off with Charles, of course,” she said in a whisper, for her throat was suddenly tight and her heart ached for the pain she was about to cause Charles, easily the nicest man in all of Edinburgh.
“And what of Robbie?”
Frances gazed at her in confusion. “What about him? He doesn’t love me. Nor would he ever consider me as a prospect once I broke his cousin’s heart. They’re close as brothers and Robbie’s too loyal ever to betray him. No, Robbie’s lost to me. Forever.”
Vi leaned forward, preparing to spout another edict, but Frances raised a hand to stop her. “Please, Vi. No more. I can’t bear to talk about Robbie yet.”
He’d been with her the night of the shooting stars when she’d made her wish. She’d wished for true love.
Even gotten a kiss from Robbie to seal her wish.
But it was all a jumble now.
She’d made the wish hoping to fall in love with Charles. Never in her wildest imagining had she expected to fall in love with the reclusive duke who’d kissed her.
What an unholy mess!
She had to fall out of love with Robbie.
But how?
CHAPTER 12
ROBBIE CLIMBED THE stairs to his office and was surprised to find Frances still seated in a chair beside the small table he’d set up in a corner as her work space. She was hunched over his books of account, making notations in the ledger with the quill pen and ink he’d provided earlier. “Frances, why are you still here?”
“I finished the patient records and thought I’d quickly work up the day’s accounts before I returned to Vi’s to prepare for Lord Danforth’s ball. Only one more entry and I’ll be done.” She smiled up at him and he took a moment to drink her in, for he would miss her terribly when this month was through. Her breathtaking smile, her luminous eyes. Her outrageously sensual body that he’d spent night after night exploring in his dreams.
His heart spiked as it always did whenever she was near. He’d grown used to it by now, grown used to the ravenous longing he always took great pains to hide from her. That ache had become unbearable, but he hadn’t the right to tell her how he felt.
Had she come to him asking for his help to end her engagement, he might have held out hope, but she’d seen Charlie and her family yesterday and reported that all had gone well.
Obviously, she intended to marry Charlie and he would do nothing to break them up.
He lifted the ledger out of her hands the moment she made her last entry. “Come on, Frances. Battle-Ax Brazelton will have my hide if you’re late.”
She shook her head and laughed. “I’m done. You needn’t fret. You ought to be thanking me for putting your papers in order instead of standing there scowling like a gargoyle.”
“I’m a duke, not a gargoyle.”
“A spectacularly magnificent duke,” she teased, “who ought to stop grumbling and simply thank me.”
Indeed, setting her loose upon the paperwork demanded by the hospital trustees was a stroke of brilliance on his part. He considered that work a monumental waste of his time, but even he conceded that some of these reports and patient records were important. Frances had a wonderfully organized mind and a love for detail and precision. She was the perfect balance to his impatience.
Indeed, she was perfect for him in every way. “Thank you, Frances. But you’re still an annoying little baggage and Vi is still going to have me drawn and quartered if I don’t get you to her home in time.”
She sighed as she set aside her quill pen and rose. “I wish you’d attend the ball.”
“No.” She would be there with Charlie and he had no desire to torture himself by watching the happy pair. “I have other plans this evening. Come along, I’ll drop you at Vi’s on my way home since I’m ready to leave as well.”
“Oh? What plans?”
“That’s my business, not yours.” He took her by the arm and escorted her downstairs to his waiting carriage, pausing but a moment to lock the clinic doors. He’d dismissed Mrs. Pringle for the day and sent her home shortly before coming upstairs, thinking that Frances had already departed and he was alone… but there sat Frances quietly at work, quill pen in one hand while she absently twirled a loose auburn curl by her ear with the other hand.
He helped her into his carriage, ignored the jolt of longing to his heart the moment he touched her, and climbed in to sit opposite her. A light blush stained her cheeks and she was nibbling her fleshy lower lip. “What’s the matter?” he asked.
She turned to stare
out the window. “Nothing.”
He kept his gaze trained on her. “You’re a terrible liar. Has something distressed you?”
She turned to cast him a wry smile. “Not at all. I simply wish you’d attend Lord Danforth’s ball.”
And watch his cousin dance with her in his arms? Hell, no. “So you’ve mentioned repeatedly. You know I hate these parties. Will you nag Charlie like this once you’re married?”
Her smile crumbled and her breath suddenly turned ragged. In the next moment, she buried her face in her hands and began to cry. “Damn it, Frances. Why the sudden tears?” He’d been terse, but what had he said that would cause her to turn into a watering pot? “My apologies. You know that I admire” love “you. I give you leave to insult me. Will that make you feel better?”
“No.” She shook her head. “It isn’t you.”
Now he was thoroughly confused. He drew her onto the seat beside him and allowed her to rest her head against his shoulder while she continued to cry. She cried hard enough to soak his shirt. He did his best to comfort her, drawing her into his embrace and gently stroking her hair to calm her, but as he did so, ripples of intense desire coursed through his body and it took all his resolve to keep from making a monumental fool of himself.
He wanted this girl so badly.
Lord, what was wrong with him?
Let her go. She isn’t yours to hold.
But he couldn’t let go, not if this was all he was to have of her. “Is it the dare? Are you afraid to face the crowd alone, Frances?”
She shook her head again, her cheek rubbing against his chest first to signify yes and then to indicate no. Then she burst into another sob. He drew her closer, now even more confused, and at the same time, those ripples of desire were now volcanic bursts that threatened to erupt into something quite hot and dangerous.
He tried to draw back but she was clinging to him, so he did the most harmless thing he could think of and caressed her cheek.
The gesture only made her cry harder.
He attempted once more to release her, but she’d burrowed too tightly against him, as though she needed to hold on to him as desperately as he needed to hold her. She sought his strength and comfort for innocent reasons.
His reasons weren’t innocent at all.
He loved the feel of her body against his, those curves of hers so warm and soft. He knew his way around a woman’s body, but this woman—Frances—the only woman he cared about, was someone special. She was his moonlight girl, for that’s the way he’d always remember her from that first night she’d wandered onto the castle balcony to gaze at the moon and stars. “Do you want me to attend the ball? I won’t think less of you if you admit that you’re afraid to face everyone alone. Is this what your tears are about?”
She finally managed a sniffling, breathless yes.
“Very well, Frances. No more sniffles.” He caressed her soft cheek once more. “I’ll go.”
“Oh, Vi! Robbie must hate me by now! Not only have I disrupted his clinic and the hospital plans, but I spent the entire ride sobbing on his shoulder. I don’t think he has a dry garment on.” Frances was now lying on her bed in the guestroom of Vi’s townhouse, a wet cloth over her eyes to soothe the redness out of them. She had no intention of looking at her face in the mirror yet, certain she’d find red blotches all over her cheeks and chin and along her throat.
Vi sat on the edge of her bed. “What were your tears about, Frances?”
“I’m not certain. I’ve tried to be strong all month long, but there are so many people out there who wish me to lose the dare. I think the strain of it all suddenly overwhelmed me.”
“Well, you’ve had your cry and can now move forward.” Vi patted her hand.
“There’s something more, Vi,” she said in a choked whisper. “I was looking forward to attending Lord Danforth’s ball and facing them all, then realized that I would be attending with Charles and that I would be married to him soon after if I didn’t do something about it.”
“Finally, the truth from your lips. What do you propose to do?”
Vi,” she said, her voice still a whisper, “I know I can’t marry him, but how do I tell him that I’m in love with the wrong cousin? More important, how do I tell Robbie? He’ll never have me even if he cares for me, although I doubt that he does. In any event, he’d never betray Charles.”
Frances removed the cloth from her eyes and abruptly sat up. “You saw through my feelings last night. Am I that transparent? Do you think Robbie can tell? Is that why he was reluctant to attend the ball? He only said he’d go because I burst into tears and behaved like a lunatic. He didn’t know what else to do but agree. He must want nothing to do with me now. Not that he ever wanted me around. I’ve been nothing but a nuisance for him.”
Vi patted her hand again. “Dry your tears and get dressed. I want you looking your best this evening. Have faith that all will work out, but you must tell Charles the truth as soon as possible.”
Frances sank back onto her pillows and threw her arm over her eyes to cover them once more, as though that alone could prevent anyone else from seeing her distress. “I know. I intend to speak to him tonight after the ball.”
“Make certain you do. This is too important to delay. Do it as soon as possible.”
Frances lowered her arm to stare at Vi. “I will, but after the ball. No sooner, for I couldn’t humiliate him in front of all of Lord Danforth’s guests. I could never do that.”
Vi rolled her eyes. “I’m not asking you to proclaim it throughout the ballroom. Take him aside. You know I’ve invited him over for drinks after the ball. You’ll tell him then. Promise me, Fee. You can’t put it off thinking to spare his feelings. This problem won’t go away.”
She sighed. “I know.”
Vi gave a nod of approval. “Very well, that’s settled. Come along. I want you looking your best tonight.”
Their carriage rolled up in front of the Earl of Danforth’s estate along with fifty other carriages. Her family and Charles and his parents had arrived just ahead of them, and she quickly spotted Meredith waiting in queue to be announced. She looked beautiful, but miserable. “What’s wrong, Merry? I thought you were eager to attend?”
“I am.” She looked as though she were about to cry.
Frances regarded her sympathetically, for she’d had the same look of desolation on her face mere hours ago. “What’s the matter? Please tell me.”
Meredith’s eyes misted. “Charles promised me the first dance, but now that you’re here…” She sniffled. “He says he must dance with you. I know he must. It’s only right.”
Truly? This was her distress? Having to sit out the opening dance? “He’ll claim you for the second. Is that so bad?”
Her sister’s chin quivered. “I’m always second best. You’re everyone’s darling.”
Frances stifled a bubble of laughter that would only serve to overset her tightly wound sister more than she already was. “Meredith, everyone hates me at the moment. I’ve disrupted the entire male population of Edinburgh because of my ideas on womanhood, society, and workplace traditions. Charles is furious with me. His cousin,” she said, referring to Robbie, “can’t abide me and is champing at the bit to kick me out. Indeed, every male above the age of four detests me, and our parents will disown me if I win the dare. I don’t think I’m anyone’s darling.”
Meredith managed a smile. “I suppose you don’t have it easy either.”
“I know how to solve the problem,” Vi said, looking quite pleased with herself.
Frances and Meredith leaned forward, eager to hear her plan.
“It’s quite simple really, but requires the cooperation of the Duke of Kintyre.”
Frances sighed. “Assuming he puts in an appearance.”
“He will. If he’s promised you that he’ll attend, then he will. He’s quite honorable that way.” Vi gave a satisfied grunt and continued. “Frances must dance with the duke first for that is the only
way to rein in the angry males who wish to see her fail. If they see that the duke is behaving courteously toward Frances, they will do the same, at least until they’re too drunk to contain themselves.”
Frances pursed her lips. “That’s the plan? What if he doesn’t arrive in time for the opening dance?”
Vi rolled her eyes. “Then you’ll pretend to twist your ankle or run off in search of your lost wrap or some other excuse, and leave Meredith to dance with Charles. Honestly, Frances, this isn’t difficult. Now, do pay attention.”
They both nodded.
“Where was I? Oh, yes. The duke has taken Frances for the opening dance and since Charles must not be slighted, he’ll escort Meredith. Surely he won’t mind parading the prettiest girl at the ball onto the floor. There, everyone pleased.”
“Frances is just as pretty,” Meredith said, but she smiled broadly, displaying her perfect dimples and pearly white teeth to mark her approval. “It is important for Frances to be safe. I think it’s a wonderful solution.”
Frances nibbled her lip. “Assuming the duke approves.”
“Stop fretting. He will,” Vi said. “I’ll make certain of it.”
Frances and Meredith exchanged glances. Indeed, no one contradicted Vi’s demands, but it did not sit well with Frances that her duke had to be commanded to dance with her.
Robbie arrived soon after they’d reached Lord Danforth’s estate and made their way past the receiving line. He looked magnificent in his black tie and tails, the rich ebony fabric a striking contrast to his white shirt and smoke-gray eyes. He stopped to speak to Charles, but their discussion ended when he noticed her. He and Charles strode toward them, Robbie casting her a boyishly lopsided grin when he caught her admiring him.
