Capturing the Heart of a Cameron (Farthingale Series Novellas)

by Meara Platt

  “Knowing Robbie,” Vi said with a gentle smile, “he’s making arrangements for Mairee as we speak. He has a good heart, but doesn’t like anyone to know it. In any event, what matters is that the wretched husband will remain behind bars for the rest of his days for what he did to you.”

  “And yet, why do I feel that I haven’t accomplished anything? I wanted to help Mairee, but my meddling almost got the both of us killed.”

  Vi shifted closer to place a loving hand on her brow. “The course of progress is never smooth. Sometimes, for every step forward we must take two steps back. At least you tried to make a difference, Fee. I’m proud of you for that.”

  “I doubt Robbie feels that way.”

  “And I’m certain that he does.”

  By the next day, Frances was convinced Robbie wanted nothing more to do with her. Neither he nor his coachman came around to take her to the clinic. He’d sent an earnest-looking doctor to check on her arm and then sent a young messenger to deliver more patient records to her. He did the same on the morning of the Duke of Edinburgh’s ball.

  Frances knew his ploy wouldn’t work with the trustees. The dare required her to work at his clinic, and while she had finished the reports, taking care to complete them accurately while under the influence of the laudanum she still took for her pain, everyone knew she had accomplished this assigned task while lying in bed and not at the clinic where she was required to be.

  In truth, until today she hadn’t the strength to climb out of bed or stand on her own two feet without wobbling dangerously, and was more than a little disgusted with herself for not trying harder. Vi was of little help, refusing to lend her carriage to convey her to the clinic. “But Vi—”

  “No, Fee. You’re in no condition to step outside,” she had insisted. “If Robbie refuses to send his carriage around, then I shall not lend you mine.”

  And that put an end to the conversation.

  Frances now had to worry about tonight’s ball, which was to start in a mere twelve hours. Meredith and Charles intended to pay a call on her this morning. Vi entered her quarters and sat as usual on the edge of her bed, clearing her throat to gain her attention. “Do you think you can be washed and dressed in time to greet your sister?”

  “Of course.” Frances sighed in exasperation. “You realize that by not going to the clinic yesterday, I lost the dare. On the twenty-ninth day, no less. Why aren’t you overset by it?”

  “Why aren’t you?” Vi shot back.

  Frances was about to protest, but snapped her mouth shut. Vi was right, she wasn’t concerned about the dare any longer. Robbie’s welfare was of greater importance. In her heart, she knew that if Robbie won the dare, he would secure his place as chairman of the hospital board and remain in control of the expansion project. Losing the dare would cause him to lose everything. Lord Digby and Lord Pertwee were a pair of circling vultures just waiting for the chance to take their revenge on him.

  She would never allow that to happen.

  However, she was surprised and more than a little disappointed when Robbie failed to visit her. So much for those tawdry feelings of lust he supposedly carried for her. Vi, despite her intelligence and years of happy marriage, had been wrong about Robbie’s attraction to her. Well, no one was perfect.

  Although Robbie came awfully close.

  She missed him terribly, but he was enjoying the return of his privacy and no doubt finding that his life was far more pleasant without her.

  Her life was a big, empty hole without him around to fill it.

  Meredith and Charles joined her and Vi for tea in the parlor in the late morning. She looked forward to this time alone with her sister and Charles, for they needed to repair their tattered relations.

  For the sake of both their families, the three of them had to stand together as friends at the Duke of Edinburgh’s ball. The family relations would be salvaged, if nothing else. By this evening, everyone would know she’d lost the dare. “Fee,” her sister said with a shuddering ache to her voice. “I couldn’t bear it if you never spoke to me again. Mother and Father are appalled by my behavior, of course. They send their love and would have come to visit but are busy dealing with both families. Everyone is outraged. Please forgive me. You’re the last person in the world I’d ever wish to hurt.”

  Frances waited for her sister and Charles to take their seats before responding. Vi had ordered tea and cakes and then fashioned an exceedingly lame excuse to take her leave so that the three of them—unlikely participants in a love triangle—could speak in private. Frances smiled at Meredith. “I do forgive you and Charles. I’m happy for the both of you. It’s obvious that you’re a perfect fit for each other. I sincerely wish you every happiness.”

  Charles appeared surprised and a little insulted. “You do?”

  Ah, the fragile male pride. He’d never loved her and hadn’t felt honor bound to remain faithful, but he still wanted her to pine over him? “Would you rather I be sobbing and vowing never to speak to you or Merry again?”

  “No,” he admitted sheepishly. “I’m relieved that you’re taking it so well. I know I behaved abominably. I can understand why you might never wish to see me again, but you must believe that neither Meredith nor I would ever be completely happy knowing we hurt you. If we had your blessing, it—”

  “No, Charles.” Meredith poked him. “It’s asking too much of Frances.” Her lips quivered and a tear slid down her porcelain cheek. “Oh, Frances! I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I know what I did was cruel and low and unforgivable.”

  Frances took her sister’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Hush, Merry. I will admit that seeing you in the garden came as a shock to me, but I’ve had several days to think about it and I do forgive you. Charles and I were never more than friends. We mistook our amiable affection for each other as love. But seeing the two of you, how passionately you care for each other… well, it made me realize that you have it right. Love is to be cherished. I want a man who will love me with that same depth of feeling.”

  It was of no moment that she’d already found the man she wanted and botched all chance of their ever being together.

  “Thank you, Frances,” Charles said with sincere warmth, for he truly was a good person and Frances knew that he was suffering greatly for his betrayal. Yes, it was a betrayal, but one she’d quickly gotten over. He wasn’t the only one at fault. By accepting the dare, she had disappointed and embarrassed him, as well as neglected him. “Your forgiveness means everything to us.”

  “And to remove all doubt or impediment to your happy marriage, I also give you my blessing.”

  Merry launched herself at Frances and gave her an enormous hug. Frances tried not to wince, for her rib gave a sudden twinge and her arm was still quite sore, but seeing her sister so happy diminished the pain. After exchanging several more conciliatory words, Frances frowned lightly. “Charles, what’s happened to your cousin? What has the board of trustees done to him? He hasn’t mentioned it in any of his letters to me.”

  Charles arched an eyebrow. “He writes to you?”

  She mentioned the patient reports. “Only to send those papers to me. I’ll never forgive myself if I wrecked his plans for the hospital expansion.”

  Charles pursed his lips in thought. “I don’t know what’s happening. I’m not involved and the trustees are surprising tight-lipped about it. But Robbie’s smart. He’ll find a way to come out of this latest challenge with his chairmanship intact.”

  “I hope so. If losing the dare will help him, I’ll willing do it. I think he’s sent me those reports to keep me from forfeiting. He believes that having me work for him here at Vi’s while I recuperate from my injuries will keep me in the running, but I know the trustees won’t see it that way.”

  Charles gazed at her in confusion and then suddenly grinned. “Are you saying that he wants you to win? That he isn’t going to mention…” He glanced at Meredith, who was obviously unaware of the nin
e days she’d spent in Robbie’s bedchamber in the clinic, and by Charles’ expression, he was silently vowing never to speak a word of it to anyone, ever. “Everyone knows that the terms require your attendance at the clinic. He can’t get around that.”

  “I know. But there’s no telling him that. In any event, I saw no harm in completing those patient reports for him. He hates them with a passion. He’d rather endure boils on his neck than ever look at one of those nasty things. The dare is over, but he hasn’t accepted it yet.” She shook her head and then took a sip of her tea. “He doesn’t wish to see me ridiculed. If I’m to lose—which is certain now—he wants it to be with honor. He’s quite noble that way.”

  “Robbie’s the best,” Charles said, nodding in agreement.

  Frances laughed softly and then took another sip of her tea. “He must be dancing a jig at the thought of being rid of me.”

  Charles grinned. “You have upset his ordered world. It’s time someone did.”

  Meredith’s eyes widened. “Are you a little in love with him, Fee?”

  No, she was a lot in love with him. “Everyone is. He has that sort of commanding presence.”

  Meredith was now all giggles. “Like the handsome heroes in those tawdry novels we’re all warned never to read, but always do because they’re fascinating in a Peeping Tom sort of way.”

  “Meredith!” Charles gazed at her, appalled.

  Meredith smiled at him so sweetly his anger melted. Frances tried her best not to grin, but she liked the obvious affection Charles had for her sister. It boded well for their marriage. “Does Vi have any new books to give us? Tell me, Frances. Which story did you like best and how can I sneak it into the house to read?”

  “Meredith!” It was now her turn to be appalled. “Our parents are on the verge of disowning me as their daughter. I’m not going to add corrupting your morals to my list of crimes.”

  “Nonsense, they know I’m thoroughly corrupted already.” Meredith turned to Charles with a grin. “Imagine the fun we’d have on our wedding night if we tried half the things written in—”

  Charles choked on the tea he’d just sipped.

  And that ended their visit.

  But Frances was glad they’d reconciled. She and Meredith were back to their usual affectionate banter, which boded well. Despite his fit of coughing, Charles walked out a happy young man in love. By the gleam in his eye, she knew he was looking forward to his wedding night. Yes, he and Meredith were meant for each other.

  Who was she meant for?

  Please let it be Robbie.

  CHAPTER 14

  THE NIGHT ROBBIE kissed her—their first and only kiss—Frances had made a wish upon a shooting star, wishing to find true love. She’d found it with Robbie. Her wish had been granted. But what of Robbie? He hadn’t made a wish. Even if he had, Frances doubted he would have asked to make her his true love.

  She hadn’t seen him since the morning Mairee’s husband had attacked her. More trouble she’d brought to the clinic, and although he’d refused to show it at the time, she knew Robbie must have been angry with her for inciting the incident. No, she wasn’t the woman of his dreams.

  “Fee, are you ready?” Vi called, knocking softly at her open door.

  “I’ll be right there.” She’d slept most of the afternoon to be refreshed and at her best for the Duke of Edinburgh’s ball. Pausing in front of the mirror, she gave herself a quick inspection. Her arm was still a little stiff and her rib was tender, but her eyes were clear and her gown was beautiful, so she gave a nod of approval.

  Would Robbie think her pretty?

  Was he thinking of her at all?

  She fretted in Vi’s carriage on the way to the ball. And fretted as they arrived at the duke’s stately home and stepped in queue to be formally announced. The tension in the air was palpable. Indeed, so thick one could cut it with a knife.

  Several hospital trustees rushed forward to warmly greet Vi, but Frances was merely a thorn in their grubby paws so they gave her the cut direct. “Ignore those toads,” Vi said in a whisper. “They only fuss over me because they want my blunt. I’m one of their most important contributors. So disgustingly obvious. If they dare remove Robbie as their chairman, I won’t ever give them another shilling.”

  “Thank you, Vi. You’re a good friend to Robbie. Oh, there’s Lord Digby.” Frances knew she ought to feel guilty, but she was quietly cheering. “He’s sporting a hideous black eye. I shouldn’t be pleased, but he’s so mean-spirited and arrogant I can’t help myself. Unfortunately, he has it in for Robbie now and that is all my fault. Robbie was defending me.”

  She glanced around. Where was he? She’d missed him these past few days and had yet to figure out how she was going to manage the rest of her life without him.

  Since no eligible men were going to come near her tonight—indeed, a leper would be more popular—she sat beside Vi and waited for the dreaded announcement concerning the dare. Charles and Meredith joined her. “You look lovely, Fee,” Charles said and then insisted they share a dance to show the guests that there were no hard feelings over their broken engagement.

  “You must, Fee,” Meredith insisted.

  Frances agreed because she knew it was important to the happy couple, but she noticed the pitiful stares of all in attendance and knew that everyone believed Charles was merely being kind to her, the doomed spinster that no man in his right mind would ever wish to marry.

  As the dance ended, there was a sudden stir by the entrance and Robbie was announced. “His Grace, the Duke of Kintyre.” Goodness, that sounded wonderful. Then Robbie appeared at the top of the stairs looking powerful and handsome, and Frances died a little inside.

  If he noticed her, he didn’t show it.

  She patted her hair and glanced down at her gown, a lace and ecru velvet confection trimmed with a silk bow of forest green that wrapped just below her bodice. Did she look enticing enough to claim Robbie’s heart?

  She held her breath when he suddenly noticed her and smiled in her direction. Everyone was watching him and a buzz of excitement filled the air as he made a path toward her. He appeared not in the least distressed that all activity in the room had stopped, for all were curious to see what he intended to do next. “Miss Cameron.” He took hold of her hand and bowed over it with impeccable politeness.

  She bowed in return. “Your Grace.”

  Her face must have revealed every bit of her turmoil, but his expression revealed nothing. “How is your arm?” he asked, glancing at her left arm, which was hanging a bit stiffly at her side.

  “I’ve rested it as you ordered. The swelling has gone down considerably.”

  “But still a little sore?”

  She nodded.

  “And your rib?”

  “It’s healed.”

  “Thank goodness.” He gave her hand a little squeeze, for he still had hold of it. “The Duke of Edinburgh will soon make his pronouncement.”

  “I’m scared, Robbie.” She trembled, fairly certain the decision would not be in her favor. She was prepared for it, but not for the jeering that would surely follow once it was confirmed that she’d lost.

  He gave her hand another squeeze. “You’ll be fine no matter the outcome. You’re brave, Frances. Braver than all of us.”

  She took a deep breath. “I’m going to disappoint a lot of people who counted on me. That’s the hardest part of all.”

  He gazed deeply into her eyes, the smoky gray swirls of his eyes too splendidly compelling to allow her to draw away. “You’ll disappoint them only if you give up caring for others as passionately as you do now. Indeed, you’ll disappoint me if you ever change. Come along, the Duke of Edinburgh is eager to meet you.”

  “He is?”

  “I’ve told him all about you. That’s where I was yesterday, summoned to Holyrood Palace and commanded to explain how an upstart young woman managed to get the better of me.” He cast her an appealingly boyish grin. “But I’d like to keep you to
myself a moment longer. Do you feel well enough to dance?”

  “With you?” Her eyes rounded in surprise. “You wish to dance with me?”

  His lips twitched upward in the hint of another boyish smile. “I do. Is that so shocking?”

  She nodded again. “I’m the laughingstock spinster. Haven’t you noticed?”

  His expression turned sober. “I haven’t. You look beautiful, Frances. Always.”

  “Robbie,” she said in an anguished whisper, “you needn’t be polite to me. It will only make matters worse for you. Look, the trustees are scowling at us.”

  “Let them.” He placed her hand on his forearm and led her onto the dance floor. He ignored everyone, but she couldn’t be as carefree. The weight of each mocking gaze weighed heavily upon her. No one said a word. The ballroom fell so quiet one could hear a pin drop. Even the members of the orchestra were too busy gaping to remember to play. Finally, the maestro shook to his senses and began to wave his baton.

  The orchestra struck up a waltz.

  “Thank goodness,” Frances said as Robbie began to guide her in time to the flowing music. “My legs are trembling. You’d better keep a firm grip on me or this dance might turn out to be another embarrassment.”

  Robbie cast her a smile that melted her heart. “I’ll hold you for as long as you wish to be in my arms.”

  “Forever?” She inhaled sharply. “Sorry, it was a silly thing to say. Of course you don’t want forever. Who would ever want to be burdened with me? Certainly not for a lifetime. I’m every man’s nightmare. Oh, Robbie! I thought I could be brave and not care if I were snubbed or ridiculed, but I don’t think I can manage it. I’m going to burst into tears at any moment.”

  Wordlessly, he steered her toward the doors leading out onto the terrace. They were closed for now to keep out the cold, but Robbie opened one, nudged her through it and then followed her. He shut the door behind them and led her into the shadows where none of the guests would see them even if they happened to peer out the glass doors.