To Protect An Heiress (Zebra Historical Romance)

by Adrienne Basso

  “There she is, Merry. The blond vision in the aqua silk gown standing beside the marble pillar. Is she not perfection?”

  With great interest, Meredith angled her neck and eyed the diminutive blond who had so enraptured her brother.

  “Good heavens, I know that woman,” she exclaimed.

  “How? I am certain she is newly arrived in town.”

  “She is from the country, as you suspected,” Meredith said. “Your lovely young miss is Elizabeth Sainthill, the youngest sister of Viscount Dewhurst.”

  “Dewhurst?” Jasper rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Isn’t he the chap who married your good friend Faith last year?”

  “Yes.” Meredith finished her drink and handed the empty glass to Jason, who promptly found a footman and passed it off. “I met Elizabeth last fall when I went to visit Faith. Dear Elizabeth was a resounding success the night of the local harvest ball, yet all that attention only made her uncomfortable. She is a charming, genuine young woman who enjoys the simple pleasures of life. Her head will not be easily turned by your slick town manners, Jason.”

  “Egad, Merry. It sounds as though you are having second thoughts about introducing me,” her brother replied in an indignant voice.

  “I might.” Meredith paused, then stared meaningfully into Jason’s eyes. “You must promise me you will do nothing rash. I would be horribly disappointed in you if you did anything to upset Elizabeth.”

  “I just want to meet the girl, Merry. Not seduce her,” Jason said. “ ’Tis a certainty her chaperon will have my head on a platter if I make so much as a false step. I freely admit I am too much of a coward to brave that female’s wrath.”

  Meredith flicked a glance at the older woman who stood beside Elizabeth, but it was hardly necessary. Only one woman would stand guard over the lovely young blond with such fierce protectiveness—Harriet Sainthill, Elizabeth’s older sister.

  “Well, at least I can credit you with understanding that situation correctly, dear brother.” Meredith took a deep breath. “Any sensible man would give that chaperon a wide berth. Unfortunately, you will never get near the rose unless you risk getting pricked by the thorns of her protector.”

  “You express sympathy, yet your tone is amused at my plight. Since you know my fair Elizabeth, am I correct in assuming you also know the gargoyle who guards her?”

  Meredith nearly burst out laughing. It was a cruel, though apt analogy. Harriet Sainthill was not known for her sweet temper or her meek countenance. She and Meredith were the same age and had made their debut into Society the same year.

  It had become an instant rivalry, though in truth Meredith had never understood why the other woman had disliked her so much. ’Twas not till years later she learned Harriet had fallen in love with Julian Wingate, one of the many men whose proposal of marriage Meredith had soundly rejected that year.

  Meredith was always unsure if Harriet had ever forgiven her for rejecting Wingate or if she was miffed by the attention he had lavished upon her. This dislike and distrust Harriet harbored within her still existed despite the fact Harriet had in fact become engaged to marry Wingate several Seasons later.

  This animosity had extended beyond Meredith and included Meredith’s dear friend, Faith, who was a neighbor of Harriet’s. When Faith had unexpectedly married Harriet’s older brother last year, Harriet had done all she could to make the new bride’s life a misery.

  Fortunately, it appeared the two sisters-in-law had somehow worked out their differences. Faith was so in love with her husband and delighted over being a mother to his young son it seemed not much upset her.

  “I give you fair warning, dear brother, Harriet will be the very least of your problems if Elizabeth comes to any sort of unhappiness,” Meredith cautioned. “You will answer to me first and then be forced to confront her brother. Viscount Dewhurst spent many years captaining his own shipping vessel in the colonies. He is not a man to trifle with, and he is very protective of his women.”

  “Is he here this evening, too?”

  “No, Faith was unable to make the journey to town this Season.” Meredith bowed her head to hide a telltale blush. “She is increasing.”

  As she spoke the words, Meredith was again in wonderment of the news. Faith having a child! It seemed an impossibility, given the tumultuous start to her marriage, and yet there had ultimately been a happy conclusion, as her current condition implied. Was it possible to believe somehow her own marriage would reach at least a level of comfort? Meredith was almost afraid to hope.

  “I suppose Elizabeth is just beginning her sojourn into society,” Jasper commented, “though I think she picked a most unusual event to make her debut. Our host, the Duke of Shrewsbury, is hardly a social leader.”

  “Must have been the older sister, Harriet, who made the choice,” Jason surmised.

  Meredith jerked her chin up. “How foolish of me not to have remembered. Julian Wingate is a grandson of our host, so naturally Harriet and Elizabeth are in attendance this evening. After all, Harriet is engaged to marry Mr. Wingate.”

  “Wingate is going to marry that sourpuss?” Jason let out a low whistle. “Her facial features seem to be fixed in a permanently pinched and unhappy expression. I almost pity the man. She must have buckets of money. And property. Or both.”

  “’Tis my understanding Harriet has a modest dowry, as does Elizabeth.”

  “Then Wingate will be in no rush to say his vows,” Jasper observed dryly.

  Meredith shrugged, silently agreeing with her brother. “They have been engaged for several years. I am sure now that Wingate has returned from the Peninsula and resigned his commission, a wedding date will be set.”

  “I cannot fathom such a ridiculous match.”

  “Don’t be so unkind,” Meredith scolded lightly. “I know you will find this difficult to believe, but Harriet is a very attractive woman. Well, she can be an attractive woman when there are no deep scowls marring her features. She also possesses a sharp wit and an even sharper tongue, so I caution you both to be very careful.”

  With that final ominous warning, Meredith led her brothers across the room. As they drew closer, Meredith was forced to agree Elizabeth did indeed eclipse her older sister in both beauty and demeanor. It was no mystery why Jason was so captivated by her. She looked exquisite in her gown of aqua silk, with her blond hair artfully arranged in ringlets. In contrast, Harriet was dressed in a modest gown of deep blue, her brown hair pulled back in a severe chignon. Neither the dress nor the hairstyle enhanced the older woman’s looks.

  Her eyes darkened as they approached and Meredith hesitated, unsure of the type of reception she would receive.

  “Lady Meredith!” Elizabeth’s voice rang out with genuine delight. She rushed forward and embraced Meredith in a jubilant hug. “I am so happy to see you. I had hoped you would be here this evening, but Harriet cautioned me not to count upon it.”

  “ ’Tis a joy to see you also, Elizabeth. And looking so beautiful.” Summoning up her charm, Meredith turned and inclined her head politely at Harriet, who watched her with an expression of wariness. “Hello, Harriet. I am pleased you and Elizabeth have arrived. Faith wrote me that you would both be coming to town. Are you enjoying London?”

  “I find it very much the same as I left it several years ago, filled with self-important people who spend their days idly preening for each other and gossiping endlessly,” Harriet replied with her customary bluntness. “I do not know how you tolerate it year after year.”

  Meredith exchanged a warning glance with Jason.

  “I suppose it does take a bit of getting used to,” Meredith said. “Please allow me to present my brothers, Jasper, Lord Fairhurst and Mr. Jason Barrington. This is Miss Harriet Sainthill and her sister, Miss Elizabeth.”

  The twins stepped forward and bowed elegantly—briefly to Harriet, but noticeably longer to Elizabeth. She blushed prettily at the attention, then raised her chin and smiled.

  Her blue eyes widened. �
�Oh, my, you are—”

  “Twins,” Jasper interjected smoothly. “Though I am the elder by several minutes and by far the more charming.”

  “Poppycock!” Jason nudged his brother aside. “ ’Tis a poor fellow indeed who must boost his regard by telling everyone how charming he is supposed to be.”

  “ ’Tis not boastful if it is the truth. Do you not agree, Miss Sainthill?” Jasper’s eyes twinkled as he stared at the diminutive blond.

  “Just look at them,” Harriet exclaimed. “Scrapping like a pair of dogs over a bone. We have been in town less than a week, and already I am exhausted from trying to keep Elizabeth from falling prey to a steady stream of charming rogues. The ton is fairly crawling with them.”

  “Elizabeth is a sensible girl. It will take much to turn her head.” Meredith lifted her fan to her lips and whispered behind it. “And I have heard from a most reliable source you are doing a more than adequate job of keeping the worst of them at bay.”

  Harriet smiled. “Thank heavens.” She touched her nose with her lace handkerchief, and a whiff of lavender perfume drifted toward Meredith. “Faith told us you had gotten married rather suddenly. I confess I was shocked. When you visited us but a few months ago, you so adamantly declared you would remain single and independent.”

  Meredith felt the tips of her ears begin to redden as she silently cursed Harriet for having such an excellent memory. “Circumstances change, sometimes beyond our control. I married the Marquess of Dardington a few weeks ago.”

  “A rather surprising turn of events. I don’t believe I’ve ever met the marquess. Would you be so kind as to introduce us?”

  Meredith stiffened. Harriet had already loudly complained about the endless gossip of the ton. She must therefore be very aware of the state of Meredith’s much talked about marriage. “My husband seldom attends these evenings.”

  “Pity.” There were a few moments of strained, awkward silence. “Are you not going to ask me about my fiancee?”

  “No. That would be cruel.” It was, of course, exactly what Meredith wanted to do, but already knowing the answer was too much like rubbing salt in an open wound. Any doting or even interested fiancée would at least be in the vicinity of his intended, yet Julian Wingate was nowhere to be seen. Since they were at the home of one of his relatives, it was certain he was in attendance—and pointedly ignoring his fiancée.

  “I fear you and I have more in common than either of us would care to acknowledge, Harriet.”

  “Gracious, you have done it again!” Harriet exclaimed.

  “But I said nothing—”

  Harriet held up her hand to forestall any protests. “Precisely. ’Tis bad enough your beauty attracts men of all ages while I have the sort of face one forgets even while looking at it. But you also show empathy and consideration to those who clearly do not deserve it. In my eyes, that has always been your worst fault, Meredith. You are better than I.” Harriet gave a self-deprecating laugh. “ ’Tis rather maddening.”

  The odd, uncomfortable silence returned. Thankfully Jasper interrupted by asking Harriet to dance. Since Jason was already leading Elizabeth out to the dance floor, Harriet eagerly seized the opportunity to keep a close eye on the younger girl.

  Meredith’s mood calmed and settled once she was alone. She took a moment to survey the room, to admire the lovely glow from the beeswax candles that made everything sparkle and shimmer. It was all part of the illusion, for this fragile appearance of glistening perfection would disappear as soon as dawn approached and revealed all the true imperfections of the room and the people within it.

  A sudden twinge caught Meredith unaware, that shiver of heightened awareness she sometimes experienced in a crowded room when she was standing alone. Meredith shifted her feet and looked about cautiously, expecting at any moment to meet the eye of a bold rake or disapproving matron pointedly observing her.

  But there was no one. All the guests she saw were involved with others and focused on their own conversations. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, hoping to chase away the flush of uncomfortable emotions. Was this a belated reaction to her conversation with Harriet?

  Meredith rejected the notion nearly as quickly as she had thought of it. Given her past history with her former rival, this had been a calm, almost pleasant meeting.

  Meredith pressed her gloved hand to her forehead. It was damp with perspiration, though the room was not overly warm. For one insane moment, Meredith thought Trevor was at the ball, for being within the same room as her husband often brought on a similar shimmering of awareness.

  Yet as Meredith again scanned the room anxiously, she revised her opinion. That pattering of excitement, that burst of anticipation when Trevor was near her was markedly missing. She felt deep in her bones that the marquess was not here.

  Yet the unease of being closely watched persisted.

  Her eyes darted anxiously about the room, but no one appeared to be paying her the least bit of attention. Meredith’s chest grew tight and she found herself clenching her fan so tightly one of the fragile wooden slats snapped in half.

  Shaking off her nervous twittering, Meredith struggled to focus her thoughts and calm her emotions. She was acting like a ninny! She was standing in the midst of a crowded ballroom, surrounded by more than a hundred people. It was perfectly safe. There was no one to harm her.

  The strains of instruments being tuned caught her attention and provided the perfect diversion. A new set of partners would soon be forming in the center of the ballroom. Filled with resolution, Meredith went in search of the duke. It was time for her to dance.

  He stood behind the marble column and watched her twitter and shake. She knows she is being observed! And it disturbs her. How marvelous.

  Her fear and discomfort brought him a moment of pleasure on this otherwise dismal night. He had felt restless and edgy, a need he recognized within himself, a need that cried out to be assuaged. But he could not leave the mansion. The duke’s ball had filled every inch of the house. There were too many people about, guests and servants, too many eyes that might see what was none of their concern.

  There would be dancing until well into the morning, keeping him a prisoner inside the house, for he could not risk being seen either leaving or returning. This made him angry, more driven to act.

  He had not felt settled for the past week. The last girl had been a grave disappointment. He had made her acquaintance at the glove shop only a week prior to killing her. She had been shy and stammering, just as he preferred. A sweet innocent, too trusting to know evil when it had embraced her.

  Yet she had died that way too—with no fight, no spirit. Her struggles had been minimal, her cries and pleas nearly unheard. It brought him so little pleasure he briefly considered stopping before the job was finished, but he knew that would be foolish.

  The shop girl knew his face, could identify him to the authorities. The chances of his being located were very slim, and if that somehow miraculously occurred he would, of course, insist the girl was mistaken. It would come down to his word against hers. He had no doubt he could win such a battle, could convince other men he was innocent and she was merely being a vengeful female.

  Had he not proved how clever he was all these years by walking among them, the frivolous society of well-bred ladies and gentlemen? And they suspected nothing.

  Yet in this case he could not afford to take the chance. Other female bodies had been discovered in town, young women who had died in a similar manner, with the deep marks of his hands upon their necks.

  So he had finished killing her, wringing out a small bit of delight at the stark look of horror in her eyes seconds before they closed for all eternity. He sighed deeply at the memory. So much effort for so little satisfaction was surely a crime.

  A swirling mass of color fluttered before him, jarring him back to the present, back to the ball. He saw Lady Meredith in the center of the dance floor, prancing delicately in front of an older, distinguished gen
tleman. Her father-in-law, the Duke of Warwick.

  The man snorted. He was not as easily fooled as the others. She had attracted much attention with this behavior, been applauded for her virtue, for rising above any scandal. Yet the fact remained she had made a hasty marriage to a man who now neglected and ignored her.

  He knew that hurt her. He had seen it in her eyes the morning of the duel. She had been frantic with worry to stop the duel, not only to spare her precious brothers, but to spare the marquess any harm. He had never suspected she cared for the marquess so deeply. It was amazing to see the truth revealed, to learn this most important secret of her heart.

  ’Twas just and fitting revenge that she who had caused such humiliation to others would in turn be treated with scorn and little regard. How wonderful that this ice maiden who was so beautiful and cold, who had rejected honorable offers of marriage from so many men who were superior to her in every way, was now tied to someone who had no regard for her. Who showed her no respect and no consideration.

  The man smiled wickedly at the mystery of fate’s justice. Lady Meredith had become the most pitiful of all society’s creatures—the neglected, forsaken wife.

  He knew it must rankle her pride, wound her heart to be treated in such a disgraceful manner. That was good. For as long as Dardington ignored her, she would suffer. And as long as she suffered, she would be allowed to live.

  Fourteen

  Some women felt incomplete without a man by their side. Meredith had always prided herself on being beyond that, on feeling she alone knew what was best when it came to managing her life. Yet as she lingered the morning after the ball in her sitting room, staring at an uncompleted letter she was composing to her friend Faith, Meredith conceded what she really wanted was to discuss the unsettling feelings she had experienced last night—with a man.

  Her father-in-law was the natural choice. He was kind, levelheaded, and very much concerned about her. If the opportunity had presented itself, Meredith probably would have mentioned it to him, but the carriage ride home from the ball last night had been unusually brief.