by Vella, Wendy
“As I said earlier, there is something between you and that woman. My question is, what?” Alex whispered in his ear.
Ben snapped his teeth together to stop from saying anything further and made his way up to the bridge behind the others.
A cart was plodding over the bridge as they arrived. It was hailed, and the wet members of the party were loaded onto it. Ben lifted Primrose, and she stiffened up like a board but offered him a curt thank-you. She then kept her distance from him and travelled back beside Miss Fullerton Smythe, who was clutching a parcel of something close to her chest.
Ben helped Primrose from the cart again when they reached Rossetter .
“Thank you, but I can manage,” she said stiffly.
“I’m keeping up appearances,” he whispered. “And yet another dress is assigned to rags.”
“The other two were salvaged, and this will be also. I’m not sure why my wardrobe is such a concern for you, Mr. Hetherington.”
Ben studied her, letting his eyes roam her face. She made him feel off-balance. They were the only words he could use to describe how he felt. He should cut all ties with her right now and stop this foolish charade before it truly began. So why didn’t he?
Ben hadn’t liked his reaction to seeing her in the water again. It had frightened him, and he tried to tell himself that was what he would have felt had any woman taken such a risk. But it wasn’t convincing.
“Stop hurling yourself into the water,” he growled, grabbing her elbow and walking her to the steps that led up to the front door.
“I have decided we will not be convincing should we undertake to deceive people about our intentions.” She wasn’t looking at him, but forward. “Good day, Mr. Hetherington. Come along, Heather.”
Excellent. Surely that was for the best?
Miss Fullerton Smythe ran past Ben and up the steps to Primrose’s side. He followed them into the house and stormed up to his room, where he stood at his window while a bath was drawn.
“Why her?” Ben couldn’t work out why she intrigued him. She had a waspish tongue to match her attitude. He was no wiser once he’d dressed and made his way to where the other guests assembled for the dinner.
“I have wrapped this for you, Miss Ainsley. Water it daily, Jethrow said.”
“Mr. Jones, how can I thank you, and Jethrow also.”
God’s blood, the woman was everywhere, Ben thought. Turning the corner, he looked over the edge of the railing to the level below. Primrose stood there dressed for dinner in cream silk, looking nothing like the drowned woman of a few hours ago. With her was a footman.
“’Tis nothing. Please let me know if I can be of any more help.”
“I will, and again, thank you so much.”
She touched the young footman’s arm and then started back up the stairs. Ben took two steps back, which put him in the shadows, and seconds later she flew past him. He wasn’t sure why he’d hidden, just as he wasn’t sure why he followed her. But he did.
She ran down the hallway to the wing she slept in. Once there, she entered her rooms. Ben followed, standing in the doorway when he realized she was alone.
Primrose dropped to her knees, regardless of the fact she was creasing her skirts, and pulled something out from under the bed. It looked like a small wooden tray.
“There, you will be happy with your friends, and I shall give you another drink tomorrow. Good night, my beauties.”
“Who, or should I say what are you talking to?”
She gasped as Ben came to where she still sat on the floor.
“What are they?”
“What are you doing in my room?”
“Following you.”
“Why?”
“You looked full of nefarious intention. Now tell me what you were talking to?”
“Cuttings.” She pushed them back under the bed.
“For?”
“Me.”
His view of her was of a headful of curls pinned all over the back of her head. A cream satin ribbon was woven through them. The dress was simple, and yet also anything but from his position, which allowed him a view of the creamy swells of her breasts.
“Allow me to help you rise.”
“I can—”
He picked her up by her waist.
“You don’t have to argue with everything I say, Primrose.”
“I know, I’m sorry.”
Her words surprised him.
“We should not be in this room alone together.”
“I know. You look beautiful tonight.”
“Thank you, and you look handsome also.”
Neither of them moved.
“We must go.”
He wanted to kiss her. Instead he held out his arm, and they walked from the room.
“Oh, wait please!”
She ran back into the room and came back with something in her hands.
“This is for you, for creating the diversion.” She looked nervous about how he’d react to the gift.
“You did not need to buy me anything, Primrose. I wasn’t serious.”
“I know, but I saw this and thought of you.”
He opened it and found a small owl.
“It’s scruffy and looks grumpy—”
“So you thought of me?” Ben was finding it hard to swallow. Of course, his family gave him gifts, but for her to do so, a woman he barely knew, felt different. Intimate in some way.
“You always look elegant, but sometimes your hair is ruffled, or a collar is turned in. And that expression closely resembles the one you turn on me after I’ve thrown myself into the water.” She was babbling now, clearly uncomfortable. “If I have offended you, I—”
“No, you haven’t offended me, and thank you for my gift,” Ben said, slipping the little owl into his pocket. “Now we must go down or they will come looking for us.”
They walked for a few minutes before she spoke again.
“We cannot do as you suggested, Mr. Hetherington.”
“Benjamin, and why not?”
Shut up, you fool, this is the best course for both of you.
“Because we continually argue.”
“I call it debating.”
She snorted, a sound he’d heard her make many times.
“You and Miss Fullerton Smythe seem to have hit it off remarkably well.”
Her smile was genuine, and Ben felt it again, the pull this woman had on him. But he was a strong, intelligent man; he could resist her, and would. No woman would ever have control over him.
“She is very nice, and not quite what she seems.”
“She does wood carving,” Ben said, navigating the stairs with her at his side.
“She told you that?”
“She did, and I told her to tell you because I thought you and she may enjoy each other’s company.”
“I do like her. Her exterior would never suggest to me she had such a habit, and perhaps that is the lesson to be learned.”
“That what we see is not actually the true personality of a person,” Ben added.
“Yes. It is nice to have a friend, and I think she will be that.”
“Excellent.”
“Thank you for introducing us.”
“You are welcome. I have been blessed with a close friend my entire life; I could not imagine life without Alex now.”
“That must have been lovely for those occasions when you were nervous, or a bit unsure how to proceed.”
“It was.” Ben had never really known what it was to be alone with no one to confide in.
They walked the rest of the way in silence, and Primrose tried to withdraw her arm as they reached the room where the other guests were gathered. Ben didn’t relinquish his grip on her.
“Good evening.”
“Hello, Thea. How are you feeling now?” His family were tucked to the left as they walked in, chatting with their friends. But it was Ace and Thea who approached them.
“Like a ship that has run aground a
nd is too large to be dislodged.”
“And yet still so beautiful.”
“Thank you, that is a kind thing to say.”
“Explain to me why it’s kind when he says it, and yet when I said those very words you snapped at me,” Ace said.
“Because I can snap at you.”
“That makes no sense to anyone but you, my love.” Ace rolled his eyes.
“Good evening, Mr. Dillinger.” Primrose slipped her arm from Ben’s and sank into a curtsey. “Should you be out of bed?”
“Thank you, Miss Ainsley, and no he should not,” Thea said.
“My head is a great deal harder than others, and the doctor has checked me over and declared me healthy. Stop fussing, Thea. Besides, I wished to thank Miss Ainsley personally now I can think straight.”
“There really is no need,” Primrose shook her head.
“There is every need. What you did today was incredibly brave, Miss Ainsley.”
She hated this, being the center of attention. Ben could see how uncomfortable she was. Especially as around them people had stopped their conversations to listen in unashamedly.
“And I will add to that, should you ever need anything you can contact me and I will make sure you get it,” Ace said solemnly.
“I-I, thank you, Mr. Dillinger,” Primrose said, sounding nervous.
Ace was an honorable man, and he meant every word he’d spoken to Primrose. He would help her in any way should she need it, and for some reason Ben liked the idea of that. Ace was a powerful man, and having him in your debt was not to be taken lightly.
Ace leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Thank you for saving me, Miss Ainsley.”
Ben wasn’t jealous of that gesture, after all, Ace was married. However, it was strange how it made something tighten inside him just the same.
Chapter Thirteen
“She just leapt in. Honestly, the woman has no shame or grace.”
Primrose overheard the words as they passed a group of ladies. She and Heather were in the ballroom, walking and talking after the formal meal had finished. Thankfully, tonight she had been seated some distance away from the disturbing presence of Benjamin Hetherington.
“Yes, she is something of a hoyden, but then considering her birth it is not surprising. Hard to believe she is related to the Earl of Pennworthy, and one wonders why he does not claim the association.”
“Really? I don’t wonder at all,” trilled someone else. “If the association is even genuine, that is. I still have my doubts.”
“It is all right, Heather, come along.” Primrose tried to tug her friend with her when she realized it was she they were discussing. Heather, however, had stopped and would not be moved.
“Good evening, ladies.”
“Miss Fullerton Smythe.” They all shot Primrose a look, but did not acknowledge her. Not one had the grace to look ashamed over what they had been discussing.
“We did not mean to eavesdrop on your conversation, and yet could not help overhearing that you were discussing one of us, loudly, in a very rude manner. In fact, my dear friend here, Miss Ainsley.”
“Oh well, we were—”
“If I may suggest you study Debrett’s—I believe the duke has a copy here—you will find that Miss Ainsley is indeed the granddaughter of an earl.”
“Of course, we were—”
“What she did today was incredibly brave,” Heather interrupted Lady Claire, “and had she not leapt into that river like a hoyden, as you so eloquently put it, the Duke of Rossetter ’s brother-in-law may not be with us tonight.”
Not one of them spoke. Several lowered their eyes.
“Because a person is not born in the exalted circles of some does not make them unequal. I would even go so far as to say that anyone who would take the risk Miss Ainsley did today is the equal of anyone in this room, if not more so. Have a good evening.”
They walked away then, leaving the stunned group of women grappling with what Heather had said.
“Oh, Heather.” Primrose sniffed back tears as emotion choked her. “You should not have done that, b-but, oh you were magnificent.”
“Do you know what, Primrose?”
“What?” She looked at her friend, dressed in rose silk, looking every inch a lady.
“I have come to realize since we became further acquainted today that you are worth twice these other women, and I will not hesitate to show that. I am just sorry that for so long I have behaved the same. I am exceedingly grateful to Mr. Benjamin Hetherington for opening my eyes.”
“I don’t think your mother will be happy with the change, Heather, and in such a short time.” Primrose felt she needed to add, “There is the association with the earl, but it really does not affect my standing in society.”
“Very likely, but I can no longer follow her every dictate. There is little doubt she will attempt to blame you, but I will not allow it.”
“But, Heather, if I could caution you to….” Primrose’s words fell away as her friend inhaled loudly. Heather’s fingers dug into her arm.
“Ouch!”
“Forgive me,” Heather said, her eyes on Mr. Caton.
“So, he is the one.”
“Pardon?” Heather dragged her longing gaze from the man.
“The one whose name you would not give me earlier. Mr. Caton is the man who has caught your eye. I did wonder earlier, actually, when you couldn’t find your words.”
“Of course not.” Heather turned her back on him.
“I think you are not being truthful, my dear new friend,” Primrose said. “Oh, he is coming this way.”
“What? No, we must leave… dear lord!”
“Take a deep breath, Heather. That’s good, and another. Now turn around and smile that lovely smile that flashes your teeth and lights your eyes.”
“I-I can’t.” Her friend’s smile was frozen.
“Of course you can.” Primrose forced her to turn by walking in a half circle with her. “Mr. Caton,” Primrose gushed. “Is it not a wonderful occasion?”
“Indeed it is. The duke and duchess are to be commended. Good evening, Miss Fullerton Smythe.” He bowed, and Primrose elbowed Heather, jolting her into a curtsey.
“G-good evening, Mr. Caton. I am pleased you are enjoying the evening.”
“I do believe a quadrille is due to start.” Primrose had never been one for subtleties, and she wasn’t about to begin now. “I believe that is your favorite dance, Miss Fullerton Smythe?”
“Oh, well yes.” Heather shot Primrose a frantic look.
“Well then, will you do me the honor of dancing with me, Miss Fullerton Smythe?” Mr. Caton held out one hand.
“Lovely, of course she will.” Primrose nudged her friend forward.
With another frantic look, Heather allowed Mr. Caton to lead her to the dance floor.
“Miss Ainsley.”
“Mr. Sanders, how are you this evening?” Primrose kept her eyes on Heather. Her friend had yet to speak a word.
“This night flower garden you have discussed has captured my interest.”
“I have yet to see it, but hope to remedy that soon, Mr. Sanders. Also, to see some of the flowers in bloom.”
“Because it is so rare to see?”
“That actually depends on the plants. As yet I am unsure what they have in the night garden here at Rossetter .”
“My dance, I believe.”
Mr. Hetherington—Benjamin—appeared before her as the music ended, suddenly obscuring her view of Heather.
“I had not thought to dance,” Primrose said, stepping to one side. Heather and Mr. Caton were leaving the floor.
“Why?” Benjamin followed her.
“Wh—pardon?”
“Are you ill or incapacitated?”
“Of course not!”
“Then you will dance.” Ben held out his hand. “You’ll excuse us, Sanders.”
“Of course, we can continue our discussion on the night garden another time.” Th
e man bowed, then walked away.
“That was rude.” She glared at him.
“No, it wasn’t. I asked nicely. Now don’t be a bore, Primrose, take my hand.”
She did as he asked, slapping hers into his palm. He in turn placed it gently on his arm and led her out onto the floor.
“So, about my little proposition.”
Drat, it was to be a waltz; and she would be in his arms again.
“I explained earlier why I believe that cannot happen.”
“I’m sure as adults we can behave for a few weeks, at least for the remainder of the season.”
Primrose thought about that, and about being close to this man for the remainder of the season. “No. I don’t think it will work, and I have no wish for word to reach Pickford.”
“Because you will wed Herbert the Honorable?”
He wore a deep blue jacket this evening, and his necktie and shirt were a startling white against his tanned throat.
“That is a very elaborate waistcoat.” Primrose studied the pale blue and emerald creation.
“My brother,” he sighed. “He dresses me, as, if left alone, I would be a fashion disaster, apparently.”
“Surely it would not be that bad were you to take control.”
“Not only do I have that other little issue I foolishly told you about—”
“The crunching, rustling issue?”
“Yes, that.” He nodded. “But I am also colorblind, which means I sometimes struggle to tell the difference between red and green.”
Primrose bit back her smile.
“I’m glad my inadequacies amuse you.”
“I wonder if you should tell your future wife? It would only be fair to warn her, surely? But then it may also work against you.”
“Very funny.” He looked down at her and her stomach clenched. This close, he was devastatingly handsome. “And I have no wish to marry.”
“What, never?”
“You dance well, Primrose.” He changed the subject.
“Thank you, my mother taught me. Why will you not wed?”
“So, to cover the rules of our situation. We shall be seen in each other’s company, showing others that we are exploring a relationship with the eventual ending being marriage.”
