The Dangers of Doing Good (Arrangements, Book 4)

by Rebecca Connolly

  “That’s not going to happen,” Duncan growled, his fists clenching at his side.

  “I also,” Colin continued quietly, still not looking at him, “would not put it past him to have her abducted. What he wants, he gets. Whatever it takes.”

  “Not this time,” Nathan muttered as he folded his arms over his chest. “Not even if we have to take shifts sleeping outside of her room and at her window.”

  They all nodded in near unison.

  “So what do we do?” Duncan asked his friends as he looked around the room.

  None of them had any answers for him. Truly, what was there to do? He ought to have wished she had never come across his path, that he had never known her.

  But he couldn’t.

  His life would have been a bleak and boring stretch of monotony without her light in it.

  Then Geoffrey shifted uncomfortably in his seat and Duncan shifted his gaze to him. Geoff wetted his lips, swallowed harshly, and looked at the floor, his hands almost imperceptibly gripping at his trousers.

  “Geoff?” Duncan murmured softly.

  Geoff seemed to twitch and continued to look at a floor. “I think,” he began very slowly, very uncertainly, “that there is a solution we have not addressed as yet.”

  “Go on,” Nathan urged, when Geoff did not continue.

  “I think it would protect Annalise,” he said in the same careful tone, “and would give us some extra time.”

  “So what is it?” Derek asked, looking confused by Geoff’s behavior.

  Geoffrey took a deep breath, then seemed to brace himself. “I think an engagement would solve it. It forces an alliance and an attachment that wards people off and ensures protection.”

  “An engagement?” Colin asked in surprise, looking around the room. “To whom?”

  Geoff’s eyes went to the wall beside him. “To Duncan.”

  Duncan closed his eyes as the room erupted with the protests of his friends. He had known that was the only solution, he had reached that conclusion hours ago. But he could not have suggested it, he was desperate that it should be avoided at all costs. It would take away Annalise’s newfound freedom, it would force her to claim an attachment that didn’t exist, and it was an action that would ensure that she would never actually fall in love with him. It would be a connection for her safety, security, and convenience. It was not for love.

  It was the best and surest form of his heart’s destruction.

  “How can you even suggest such a thing?” Nathan roared, probably on his feet and pacing, as he was wont to do. “Duncan is already her sworn protector and everybody knows it. Why put them both through a false engagement? And it would be false in every sense, there would be no marriage, I would refuse to force that upon either of them.”

  “And what about Annalise?” Derek cried, no doubt shoving his hands into his hair and disheveling it, as was his way. “She deserves a man who chooses her of his own will and heart, not by force of situation! We protect her by taking away her freedom to choose? Are you mad?”

  “Worst idea ever,” Colin managed, his voice half gone. He, at least, seemed in control of himself. Duncan cracked open his eyes to see him sitting where he had been, looking at Geoffrey with disgust and horror. That was, in point of fact, purely Colin too.

  Geoff took his friends’ reactions calmly and held up a hand. “Don’t you think I’ve thought of all of that? Do you really think I would suggest such a drastic thing if it were not necessary? Nathan, you just suggested we take turns sleeping outside of her bedroom and at her window. We are desperate.”

  “Not that desperate!” Nathan muttered.

  “Yes,” Geoff replied seriously, “we are.”

  “No,” Colin said emphatically, shaking his head. “No, no, no. You are not allowed to suggest any further ideas, Geoffrey. From here on out, you are purely decorative.”

  Geoff huffed in disgust. “Well, I don’t see you suggesting anything, Colin. If you have a solution that does not involve somebody dying or being abducted or being forced into a false engagement, I will gladly hear it.”

  “Give me some time, and I will create something,” Colin assured him with a hint of a snarl. “And something far better than that.”

  “Time is something we do not have,” Derek said quietly, releasing a heavy sigh.

  It was time for him to say something. And it was something he knew he would regret for the rest of his life. He opened his eyes slowly and looked directly at Geoff.

  “I’ll do it.”

  It seemed the entire room stilled and nobody breathed. And then everything exploded. Distinguishing who was crying out what protest was impossible, it was just a cacophony of sounds bombarding his ears. He held up a hand and they all settled down. Only Geoff looked contented.

  “I will do it,” he said slowly. “Once I explain things to Annalise, I am sure she will consent as well.”

  “Duncan, no,” Nathan said firmly, shaking his head.

  Duncan felt a growl of his own protest rising in his chest. “I don’t see you coming up with any feasible ideas, as much as we’ve tried and as much as we know. And this way we can surely protect her. If she agrees, then we will do it. And we’ll do the whole thing. The ring, the ball, the dress fittings… No one must suspect it isn’t real…” He trailed off, his heart thudding against his chest faintly at the imitation of what he really wanted.

  Nathan slowly shook his head again. “This might break her.”

  Duncan swallowed hard. He knew that. He knew it all too well.

  He also knew she would not be the only broken one.

  He sighed and looked around at his friends. “Pray with all your might that it saves her instead.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Annalise sat at her toilette, her hands shaking and folded tightly in her lap. Downstairs in the ballroom, dozens, maybe even hundreds of people were gathering to celebrate her engagement.

  She snorted and clutched her fingers more tightly. Engagement. She was no more engaged than she was a wealthy heiress. She was a fraud, an imposter, a prisoner of her wildest hopes and dreams, doomed to never see them fulfilled.

  It was becoming the most painful sort of nightmare.

  Duncan had explained everything to her four days ago, and she thought she recalled him asking if she agreed with the plan, which she supposed was the only proposal she would ever get. But there had been no question. They were determined to help her, to save her, in their estimation, and this was the only way they could do it. And she was determined to have Duncan in whatever way she could, and this cheap imitation of an attachment would be as close as she would ever come. So she said yes, and they were off making plans and spreading the word. Occasionally she was consulted, but for the most part, all things were now out of her hands.

  Tibby had been appointed host of their engagement ball, though her home was not appropriately furnished yet. Therefore, they were using the new ballroom at the home of the Marquess of Whitlock, and Derek and Kate were sure to throw quite the soirée for them.

  Faintly, it had occurred to Annalise to wonder why.

  Oh, she knew very well that Duncan insisted everything appear real and sincere, so that Thorpe could never disprove it. There had been no legal documents declaring his claim on her, so there was no way to prove his tale should he have made it public. But he had not.

  Yet.

  He had attempted to communicate with her further, but she was always accompanied by one of the men when she was out, if not more than one. Notes had been delivered to her in his fidgety scrawl, and she had gone to Duncan with his threats. But he had merely laughed them off and assured her that they were not legitimate, that he could not get to them, nor did he have any power.

  She wished he would not be so confident. He didn’t know Thorpe as she did.

  But she couldn’t get a moment alone with him.

  When they were on display as the newly engaged couple, he was charming and complimentary, adoring and admiring, an
d the perfect fiancé. But when out of view, he would remove himself and become reclusive, leaving her alone with Marianne or Tibby for entertainment, though neither seemed particularly inclined. They were so busy with “wedding preparations” that she, the supposed bride, would be in their way.

  Marianne’s inhibitions about Annalise being in Society had apparently vanished in the face of her imminent danger and protective false engagement to her brother, at which she had not even batted one of her long eyelashes. She suspected there would have been quite the protest had the attachment been legitimate, but as there had been repeated assurances that it would come to no fruition, no complaints had been put forth.

  They were so eager to assure her that no one would go through with the engagement and marriage that no one ever asked her what she wanted. It never even occurred to anyone that she might want just what they were suggesting.

  But then, regardless of what they all pretended, she was not one of them.

  She never would be.

  She glanced down at the delicate ring on her finger that served as her engagement ring. It was simple, but elegant, and it was exactly what she would have wanted for herself. An aged golden color with an emerald gem at its center and scattered imitation diamonds encircling it. It caught the light in a beautiful way and was not so elaborate that it would draw attention unless one looked for it.

  It had been given to her by Duncan without ceremony before their first venture out as engaged, and for a brief moment her breath had caught, but then he had instructed her to smile and put his arm tightly around her as people began to approach.

  She had cried for hours that night in the silence of her room.

  And she had cried many tears since.

  But tonight she was expected to glow for all to see, apparently so in love that she would cut her first and only Season short to marry the man of her dreams.

  No one must see her pain.

  Especially not Duncan.

  She heard the soft knock at her door and shook herself from her reverie. “Come in,” she called softly, heart pounding.

  Mary entered with a smile, looking radiant. “Annalise, dear.”

  Annalise managed a smile that ought to have appeared carefree. “You look lovely!”

  Mary smiled and gave a playful curtsey. “So my husband informed me, but the man has a very skewed perception.”

  “Not at all,” Annalise corrected, shaking her head and feeling the way her hair bounced as she did so. Her maid had spent ages on it and she was very much afraid the whole thing would tumble down if even one pin was removed.

  “I think you should look at yourself,” Mary said as she came closer. “You are a vision.”

  Annalise glanced at the long mirror in the corner, eerily identical to the mirror in her dream from so long ago. And it so happened the dress was the very same shade it had been there, the color of a pleasant blush on palest cheeks, with the faintest golden shimmer. Her hair, as far as she could tell, was also nearly the same, elegantly curled and elaborately coifed. But her feelings were so different that she couldn’t bear to see it. It would forever haunt her.

  “I think not,” she murmured, her voice shaking a touch. “It will only make me more nervous if I know what I look like. Only tell me, is it enough?”

  “Enough for what?” Mary asked in a soft tone, taking her hand.

  Annalise swallowed and forced herself to smile as if all was right. “Enough to convince them that I am a woman truly engaged?”

  Mary’s eyes told her she was not convinced, but her smile stayed fixed. “More than that, Annalise. You will convince the world that you are a woman in love.”

  Tears burned her eyes almost violently, but she forced them back and nodded. “Good. Then I am ready to go down.”

  Mary helped her stand and took her down the hall and to the stairs. “Duncan is waiting for you,” she whispered. “I must go in and wait for your grand entrance. Come find me if you need anything. I know all of the secret ways out.”

  “Thank you,” she murmured, squeezing her hand.

  Mary winked and gracefully descended the stairs, her elegant, silver silk grazing the steps in soft whispers of sound.

  Annalise swallowed hard and rested her shaking hand on the railing. She had never thought herself much of an actress, but tonight she must be a consummate professional one. No one must know.

  Slowly, as carefully as she could manage, she made her way down, catching sight of Duncan waiting by the ballroom doors. For all his boasting of being an oaf, he truly was a glorious sight when dressed so fine. His secret love of finery delighted her, though she knew the underlying intent was to prove to the world that he belonged. Here they were, the two of them, so desperate to fit in when they felt they could not.

  Except he truly did.

  She did not.

  But she would remember this moment, and how handsome he looked, the very image of a gentleman personified. What any sensible woman would give to be attached to such a man, if only for a short time.

  If only for a night.

  He turned when the sound of her shoes reached him and the look on his face caused her heart to pummel her ribs so strongly she couldn’t breathe.

  She wished he wouldn’t look at her that way.

  It would give her reason to hope.

  She saw him swallow and then he came to her side quickly, shaking his head as if to clear it. “There you are,” he murmured, taking her hand and kissing it.

  Through the fabric of the glove she felt the heat and she shivered.

  He noticed, too. His eyes met hers and turned a shade darker. “Are you ready?” he asked, his voice lower still.

  She released a sigh. “As ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose.”

  One side of his mouth curved upwards and he winked. “You will be perfect. No more worry.”

  She nodded, a lump rising in her throat. If only his words were true.

  He turned to the doors, still holding her hand tightly. He gave a nod to the footmen, who grandly opened the doors and all within the ballroom turned and gasped with pleasure and awe, applauding as they entered. Annalise smiled as if this were all real, as if she really were the woman they thought, truly engaged to the man beside her, and fully intending to marry him. Duncan squeezed her hand and led her into the center of the ballroom.

  She had forgotten they were to open the dancing and her heart sped up frantically.

  Duncan must have felt the pulse in her wrist, for his thumb stroked it softly and she met his eyes. “Trust me,” he whispered, his eyes warm and his smile kind.

  She offered him that soft smile he seemed to enjoy, and sure enough, he inhaled sharply, his smile turning into something else.

  The music struck up and he swept her through the motions of the dance perfectly. They kept their eyes on each other the entire time, and it was only his steadiness that kept her feet moving through the steps. There were no mistakes, not from either of them. The room disappeared and they might as well have been back in his drawing room practicing, only there were no nerves now. This was easy, this was natural, this was perfect.

  All too soon, it was over and they were back to being applauded and congratulated. She expected Duncan to let her go and ignore her for the remainder of the evening, as had been his pattern, but he didn’t release her hand. When the musicians began again he shockingly led her back into the form, taking place with the other couples.

  “Again?” she asked in surprise.

  He shrugged. “Why not?”

  “It’s not fashionable or proper,” she hissed, looking around at the stunned faces.

  “Says who?” he asked, giving her a grin. “I am only dancing with my new betrothed, what could be more fashionable or proper than that?” He winked boldly and her knees turned to porridge, but somehow she managed to smile.

  Her heart had never felt lighter and she laughed as they danced together, in perfect harmony with the other couples, who were also delighted by the dance. It was
lively and energetic, and though she was not as comfortable with the steps, she found she didn’t care. She caught sight of Marianne on one side, and was relieved to see her smiling in her direction. Then she became surrounded with admirers, and Annalise could not see her.

  But she had seen the smile.

  Perhaps all would be well after all.

  When this dance finished, Duncan led her away towards the refreshments. “Would you like a drink?” he offered.

  “Please,” she replied, her face still flushed from the dance. “I could die of thirst.”

  He chuckled and handed her a glass. “Well, drink up, then. I think you shall be dancing much of the night, and you will need your strength.”

  “I have never been a dancer,” she said on a sigh, turning to face the room and smiling absently. “But I do enjoy it.”

  “I am pleased to hear it,” he said softly, taking her hand. “So. Who will you dance with next?”

  She snorted and shook her head. “You think I am in a position to be selective? I am perfectly agreeable to everyone tonight.”

  “Not everyone, surely,” he laughed, setting his drink aside.

  She considered his words and looked up at him mischievously. “Very well, you’re right. I shall do my utmost to avoid dancing with Mr. Harrison Tarlingen.”

  “Shall you?” Duncan asked, sounding rather amused and quirking a brow. “And why is that?”

  “Because his ability to entertain is outstripped by the trouble of concocting intelligent thought.”

  Duncan coughed a surprised laugh into his fist and took several moments to regain composure. “Oh my,” he finally coughed, still smiling. “A little bit of bite to go with that bark, eh?”

  “I never bark,” she informed him in her best Tibby impression. She waited a beat, and then continued, “Snarl, perhaps, but never bark.”