Lady Lissa's Liaison (To Woo an Heiress, Book 1)

by Randall, Lindsay

  She was amazed at the wanderings of her thoughts. Here she was, only a few hours out of his presence, and she could do naught but think of him, remember him, grow warm inside at the images of him that played over and over in her mind.

  Heavens, she thought, with what would she fill her days when the trout was caught and when Gabriel would have no need of her tutelage in the art of creating handmade flies? How empty her life would be then! It did not bear thinking of, she knew.

  Suddenly, there came the sound of hooves on the road in front of her. She looked up, raising one hand to the rim of her bonnet and straining to make out the figure astride. Could it be Gabriel? She hoped it was Gabriel.

  Rider and mount drew closer, slowing as they approached. Lissa stood at the side of the lane, folding her arms together beneath the handle of her basket.

  “Good day, my lady,” said the rider, removing his tall hat and sketching what passed for a bow as he sat in his saddle.

  Lissa looked up into the very blue eyes of Lord Roderick Langford. Though her heart fell, she forced a polite smile. “Good afternoon, Lord Langford.”

  “I’ve come calling for you many days in a row, but somehow you are never to be found.”

  “I often go off on my own to sketch, m’lord.”

  “I see no sketchbook in your hands now. Can I assume you will not mind my company this day since you are not about to sketch?”

  Lissa wished to fob him off, but decided she need not be so rude. After all, he’d not bothered her overly much of late. “I am headed for the rectory. I’ve some preserves, several loaves of bread and some pudding. You may join me, if you wish.”

  “I do wish it, my lady.” He jumped down off the saddle, reached to take the basket from her hands, then fell into step alongside her, his white mare complacently following behind at the reins.

  They walked a few paces in silence. “You have not returned my locket. I am glad of that.”

  Lissa grew uncomfortable at mention of the locket. Here was her chance to simply own up to the fact she’d lost it, to tell the man she did not want his suit, and then be done with it all. But she couldn’t bring herself to say the words. She wanted, instead, to be able to hand the locket back to him and with that deed give a final farewell to him. Somehow, just saying goodbye without returning his property did not sit well with her.

  “Are—are you enjoying your summer in Derbyshire, m’lord?” she asked, deciding to let his mention of the locket pass.

  “It has its moments.” He tipped a grin at her, though it paled in comparison to the rare smiles she’d seen upon Gabriel’s lips. “Such as when I am near you,” he added. “You’ve a loveliness unmatched by any other.”

  Gabriel had said something similar to her, and his words had transported her up into the stars. Hearing Langford’s statement, however, only increased Lissa’s feelings of discomfort. Drat, thought she, if the man was bent on continuing in this vein, she must let the whole truth be known to him this instant. Just hearing him talk to her in such a private way made her feel as though she was sullying all the quiet moments she’d spent at Gabriel’s side near the Dove.

  “There is something you should know about me, Lord Langford,” she said, gathering her courage. “I—I am not of the mind to marry, and I do not at all wish for your—”

  “Please, say no more. I have heard that you have no interest in marriage. I’d like to be the one to change your mind, m’lady. I am a patient fellow. I can wait.”

  “I fear you might have a long wait, sir.”

  “I do not mind. I have come to be quite taken with you, Lady Lissa. I think you know that.”

  “I do, however, I—”

  “Hush,” he insisted, his voice edged with something that sounded surprisingly like a threat. In the next instant, however, that hard edge was gone, and he spoke on a softer note. “Not now. Not here, Lady Lissa. Let us just walk and enjoy the sunshine, shall we? I’d rather not have my hopes dashed on such a beautiful day.”

  She felt nothing for the man other than guilt that she’d not yet returned his locket. Perhaps it was this guilt that pushed her to allow him to walk with her to the rectory.

  Whatever the reason, she soon rued her decision, for as they neared the church Lissa saw Gabriel. He was standing a foot away from its front entrance, seemingly caught in thought as he stared up at the place with its weathered but beautiful stone and wood. He turned his dark head toward them, hearing their approach and the soft nicker of Langford’s mare.

  His black gaze took in the sight of Lissa and Langford, side by side. Even from such a far-off distance, Lissa could see the thunder clouds gathering on his dark brow, could see clearly that his hands became fists at his sides.

  She felt suddenly, ridiculously, as though she was a married woman found rendezvousing with her lover. With guilt causing her heart to hammer in her chest, she tried to wordlessly convey to Gabriel with her eyes that what he was seeing was not what he thought it to be. She’d not gone from his company at the river to Langford’s company on the road without nary a thought. She was not playing both men for fools, was not toying with their attendance, or even hoping the two might come to blows over her.

  Gabriel, however, appeared to believe just that. There came to his black eyes a wave of rioting emotions, and his countenance became stormy. With a stiffness that could not be concealed, he turned toward them, then waited as they neared his side.

  Langford seemed extraordinarily pleased by the turn of events. “Ho, Wylde,” called he, “who’d have thought we would meet up with the likes of you, and in front of the doors to God’s house, no less. Might you be pondering journeying inside, say to offer up a prayer for your soulless self?”

  Lissa was appalled. She opened her mouth, intending to give Langford a tongue-lashing for his rudeness, but Gabriel spoke first.

  “If any prayer is offered this day, it should be on your behalf, Langford. Of the demons who walk this earth, you are of the highest order.”

  “Not in Polite Society, I’m not.”

  “Those you label your peers have no inkling about the true fiend you are, Langford.”

  “A fiend, am I? Let us be clear as to who of the two of us is hiding from life and haunting the Dove.” He motioned with just a nod of his bright-haired head. “Go back to your river lodge, Wylde. Go back into hiding where you belong.”

  Gabriel appeared as though he would like nothing better than to send a fist into Langford’s smug, too-angelic face. He made a motion toward the man.

  Lissa, fearing Gabriel would resort to fisticuffs, took that moment to step between them. “That is more than enough!”

  Langford, pleased, smiled thinly at Gabriel. “You heard the lady. Now if you’ll be so kind as to step aside and excuse us, we shall be on our—”

  “The devil I will,” Gabriel breathed. “I won’t excuse you, Langford. In fact, I don’t want you anywhere near the lady.”

  Lissa had lost all patience. Angered and appalled beyond belief, she took her basket out of Lord Langford’s hands and glared at both men. “The two of you can take yourselves and this ridiculous conversation elsewhere. I am going into the church. Alone. When I come out, I pray both of you will be gone.”

  With that, she turned abruptly away—but not before meeting Gabriel’s obsidian gaze and seeing his inner tumult mirrored there.

  What was happening between the two of them? Were they merely honoring some hasty pact they had made… or were they headed for something more, something that was, until the moment they had met, beyond the reach of either of them?

  Lissa didn’t know. She knew only that she was angry and hurt by the foul words Gabriel and Lord Langford had shared.

  She hurried inside the sanctuary of the church, glad enough when the door closed almost soundlessly behind her and she was enveloped in the vast peace of the holy place.

  Chapter 13

  Once inside, Lissa immediately moved to the side chapel and the little altar there. Behind it was
an iron gate, and behind that were all the tombs of her ancestors, her parents included. She knelt down in front of the altar, setting her basket beside her, then bowed her head, hands clasped together, and prayed fervently that all the confusion in her life—and in her heart—would soon come to an end. She prayed for herself, for Gabriel, and even for Lord Langford. But she prayed most of all for Gabriel… prayed he would find some peace in his turbulent soul, prayed he might one day look at her without clenching that strong jaw of his and would see her as the friend she longed to be.

  And a very daring part of her prayed that she and Gabriel might one day become more than just angling partners of the Dove… might actually come to love one another… to marry.

  The moment the fervent prayer came whizzing through her mind, Lissa snapped her eyes open. She stared up at the gold cross atop the altar gleaming bright in a slanting of sunlight through the stained windows, and wondered at her own thoughts. Marriage, and to Gabriel! Imagine, she’d actually prayed for such a thing!

  Lissa shivered, amazed that she was now on her knees in a place that felt like home and was praying mightily for a marriage with the sixth Earl of Wylde.

  She hardly knew the man, she thought.

  Then again, she felt as though she’d known his soul since the beginning of time….

  She heard footfalls in the adjoining passageway. She got to her feet just as the rector appeared. He smiled, obviously glad to see her.

  “Good day to you, my lady,” he said quietly. “I had been intending to pay a visit of late, but Widow Hawthorne took ill and I was needed at her bedside.”

  “I hope it is not life-threatening.”

  “She will recover.”

  Lissa nodded, smiled in relief, then motioned to the basket beside her. “I’ve brought some bread, preserves and pudding. I thought you and yours might enjoy them.”

  “Ah, we shall, my lady. Thank you.”

  Lissa smiled again, passing the basket to him.

  “Is there something else?” he said, a sage note to his calming voice. “Something you wish to talk about, my lady?”

  Lissa very nearly told all, but stopped just short of doing so. How to explain her own ridiculous plot of a pretend liaison, of all the hours she’d spent at Gabriel’s side and how confused he made her feel. No doubt the rector would be scandalized to hear such things come from her lips. And how could she explain the two gentlemen outside who had very nearly come to blows over her… and, more to the point, how Gabriel could make her both happy and sad all in a single moment? No, she could not express all of this; it was for her own heart and mind to puzzle out.

  Instead, Lissa said simply, “My—my life h-has been confusing of late.”

  “I am listening.”

  “I… I feel as though I am at a crossroads, that I could fall off into nothingness but at the same time as though I might actually come into something wholly wonderful and lasting.” Lissa shook her head ruefully. “I am not making much sense, I fear.”

  “You are making perfect sense, and I am glad you came here this day, to pray. I blessed the union of your parents, my lady, baptized you, and watched you grow. I know that your mother and father schooled you well, and that you have been constant in your faith. Let that faith guide you now.” He nodded toward the cross. “Take the time to seek the peace you know dwells within this house, and allow it to fill your own heart. Know that God will guide you, if you but ask.”

  Tears pricked Lissa’s eyes. She swallowed, nodded, and whispered, “I will. I swear I will. Thank you.”

  Within a moment, the rector was gone, moving back into the shadows of the church, leaving Lissa alone, with her thoughts and her prayers.

  She knelt once again, looked up at the cross that gleamed in a ray of slanted sunlight, and truly prayed for guidance.

  *

  Much later, as Lissa headed back outside, she was feeling renewed. She looked for Langford, his mount, but didn’t see them. She blinked against the brightness of the sun… and then she saw Gabriel.

  He’d lingered near the church, waiting for her. He stood alone on the gravel drive, his gaze not as black as she remembered it a short time ago. He seemed to have calmed himself in the absence of Langford.

  “I’d have thought you’d gone back to the river, or to home,” Lissa said.

  “You thought wrong.” He offered her his left arm. “May I lead you home?”

  “I am quite capable of finding my own way.”

  “Of course you are. But that’s not why I asked. I asked because it would please me to do so.” He again offered his arm. “May I?”

  Lissa hesitated. “Your behavior with Lord Langford was atrocious.”

  “Aye. It was that.”

  “Have you no shame?”

  “Where Langford is concerned? No, I don’t. I never have, never will. Now, will you walk with me or not?”

  “You have been insufferably rude this day.”

  “Not with you, I haven’t.” His eyes were tender, the heat of his anger with Langford gone. “Walk with me, Lissa,” he said quietly. “Say you will. And tell me, please, what peace you found within the church.”

  “You need only go inside to discover that on your own, my lord.”

  “You are to call me Gabriel,” he reminded her, and then, with a rueful grin when she made no answer, he glanced at the church, its doors. A long moment of silence slipped past, time in which he was clearly considering her suggestion to go inside.

  “Ah, no… ,” he finally said. “Not today. Not yet.”

  “Why?” Lissa asked quietly, hoping that he might truly open up to her and share whatever it was that tortured his soul.

  ” ‘Tis a long tale, one I have not shared with any other.”

  “I am a good listener, m’lord.”

  “Aye,” he agreed, “you are that.” His lips turned with a deeper grin. “But you do not take direction well—as in my directive for you to address me as Gabriel.”

  Lissa frowned. “You are teasing me now. And here I’d thought the two of us might actually share something of import.”

  “No, what you thought was that I would do the sharing, and you the listening.”

  Lissa blew out an agitated breath. “You’re insufferable, my lord.” She turned, moving briskly away, intending to walk home alone.

  Gabriel, laughing, strolled beside her with infuriating ease. “I’ll accompany you, if you don’t mind.”

  “I do mind,” she said crisply.

  Gabriel ignored her remark. Lissa glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, and was amazed to see the lightness in his step, a grin still hovering on his too-handsome mouth. For the first time, it seemed, his guard had gone down, and she was being given a glimpse at the softer side of him. Even his black eyes held a bit of a smile in them.

  “The change in you is this side of alarming, I dareswear, m’lord.”

  “Not too alarming, I hope.” His grin lessened then. A serious note to his voice, he said, “I just… I’d like simply to walk you home, Lissa. We don’t even have to talk. In fact, I’d rather we didn’t. Truth be known, I’ve come to like our silent moments.”

  Lissa slowed her pace, the anger washing out of her. Amazingly enough, she knew exactly what Gabriel meant.

  Gabriel walked her home, right up to her door, and they talked of nothing. They simply existed together beneath the sunshine.

  It was, Lissa later decided, the finest walk she’d ever taken….

  *

  During the next two days, Lissa’s life became one of trying to dodge Lord Langford’s presence and hoping for Gabriel’s. While she spent every morning alongside the Dove with Gabriel and little Harry, she had her afternoons and evenings to worry over.

  But even though she’d leave Gabriel’s presence at the river, she came to expect him to crop up wherever she went. He seemed to materialize at any given moment as she came out of a shop in town or took a walk along the country lanes. But much to her consternation, Langford
was often on the scene as well.

  Several days after the unnerving scene between Langford, Gabriel and herself outside the church, Lissa decided to head into the village to the milliner’s shop. She needed to purchase a new bonnet, one sturdy enough to endure her many ventures into the woods.

  As was always her penchant, she chose to walk the distance, and was glad to be able to slip out of the manor without her abigail in tow. Truth be known, Lissa needed time to herself, to let all of her thoughts swirl in her head and, hopefully, settle down within her mind into some semblance of order.

  The sun was blindingly bright, the air tinged with heady, summer scents, and the country lane was dusty and dry. Lissa simply allowed the sun to coat her, and the beauty of God’s earth to wrap about her.

  She reached the millinery by mid-afternoon, and allowed herself several minutes of mindlessly gazing into the clean window at the collection of bonnets on display. Though she’d come in search of a bonnet for walking, a stylish riding hat festooned with a plume of darkly dyed feathers caught her fancy. The feathers were a perfect match to Gabriel—to his eyes, his hair color, and mayhap even his darkling moods….

  Lissa bit her bottom lip, studying the hat, wondering at how she was of late forever equating anything and everything with thoughts of Gabriel. She knew she should stop such behavior—but, alas, could not. In fact, Lissa was suddenly thinking of how wonderfully the hat would complement her favorite charcoal riding habit come autumn, and was thinking, too, if she would be heralding in the fall season with Gabriel in her life. She hoped so.

  Even in the face of the man’s mercurial moods and the blackened rumors surrounding him, Lissa had several times glimpsed a pearl of perfect peace while in Gabriel’s presence. Foolish or not, she harbored the hope that the two of them could together transcend all the angst that had thus far shattered those pearllike moments. Telling herself that what seemed impossible might actually be possible, Lissa headed for the door of the millinery, her spirits lifting.