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

by Randall, Lindsay

  The shop bell jangled above her as Lissa stepped inside.

  Mrs. Emma Hodges, owner of the shop, a small, rotund woman of excellent humor, hurried forward to greet her. “Good afternoon, Lady Lovington,” she said warmly.

  Lissa smiled. “Hello, Mrs. Hodges. I see you’ve a new display in your window.”

  “Ah, yes, I can thank my new shop girl for that. She’s quite handy, and good thing, too. I fear I’m getting too old, and too wide,” she added with a wink, “to move myself around in such a small space. Anything in particular you like, m’lady?”

  “There are several actually—and the riding hat most especially.”

  Mrs. Hodges beamed. “Excellent choice, m’lady. Though the black would be most striking on you, I can have one fashioned in the deepest shade of blue, if you prefer, or perhaps even violet, or—”

  Lissa shook her head. “No, I like the black with its gray plumes,” she said, thinking of Gabriel. “The one in your window is perfectly perfect, Mrs. Hodges. I’d like to purchase it. And I’d like to order a bonnet for walking, straw will do—one that is sturdy but pretty, with some sort of summery ribbon.”

  “Of course, m’lady,” said Mrs. Hodges, quickly moving to the counter to make some notes. “I’ve always said you inherited your mother’s beautiful face and form, and that any hat on you will look like a crown. How we miss your parents, m’lady. So in love with each other, they were, and so kind to all in the shire. I speak for myself and a good many other people, I dareswear, when I say I hope you, too, will one day enjoy such a perfect marriage match.”

  “Thank you,” said Lissa, her cheeks suffusing with a soft blush, for she could not help but think of Gabriel when the word “marriage” was uttered. It was not at all uncommon for those who dwelled in the shire to talk to Lissa in such a manner, no matter of their position. Her parents had been beloved throughout the village and beyond, and there had been a profound outpouring of love and sympathy at the passing of each of them. “I consider myself fortunate to be surrounded by people like you, Mrs. Hodges,” Lissa said, meaning every word.

  The woman smiled warmly as she completed Lissa’s order. “I will have the riding hat delivered to you, m’lady, and will get right to work on your wish for a straw bonnet. You should have it in two days’ time, less if possible.”

  “There is no hurry,” Lissa assured her.

  Mrs. Hodges placed the written order into a small wooden tray on her counter, then nodded toward the window. “Though you are in no hurry for your bonnet, m’lady, my guess is that the two gentlemen waiting for you outside are no doubt in a hurry for you to be finished with your business here.”

  “Two gentlemen?” Lissa said, then turned to peer out the shop window.

  There, on the sun-splashed street stood not only Gabriel, but Lord Langford as well. They stood several feet apart, eyeing each other like two proud and territorial lion kings. Lissa frowned.

  Mrs. Hodges, impervious to Lissa’s sudden inner turmoil, hurried round the corner of the counter and opened the door for her. The bell jangled loudly. “Ah, to be young and sought after again,” she said wistfully. “You’ve the world at your feet, m’lady.”

  At sight of Gabriel, who looked more brooding than ever, and Langford, who appeared as though he expected to be sole winner of a huge bet at White’s, Lissa felt like she had nothing at her feet but a quagmire of male dominance.

  “Thank you for your trouble, Mrs. Hodges,” Lissa said.

  “Thank you, m’lady, and good day to you.”

  Having no more business with the woman, Lissa reluctantly headed out to face the lone suitor who still plagued her, and the man who bore the name of an archangel and who had the sole ability to sweep her off her feet with just a look, just a caress….

  Once outside, Lissa blinked against the sunshine.

  Langford reached her first.

  “Greetings, Lady Lissa,” he said, smiling broadly and tipping his hat, his hair bright in the sunshine. “Thought I’d accompany you home, if you like,” he said.

  “She won’t like it,” Gabriel cut in, nary giving Lissa a glance as he glowered at Lord Langford. “The lady will be joining me on her trek homeward, Langford, so you might as well leave and lick the wounds of your injured pride in private.”

  “M’lord, “Lissa gasped, spearing a heated gaze in Gabriel’s direction, “really, must you be so—so rude?”

  “Rudeness,” said Gabriel, sidling beside Lissa and whispering into her ear, “is far too gentle a sentiment to even present to yonder cawker. Now tell me you will finally see the error of your ways and will turn your back on that cock o’ the walk who clearly believes he has some say in your life.”

  Lissa blushed crimson, amazed that Gabriel could be so crass and in such a public place. And Lord Langford! Heavens, but he looked near fit to be tied, so incensed did he appear.

  “Back off, Wylde,” Langford threatened, his voice low and meant only for Gabriel’s ears. But of course, due to the close proximity of Wylde’s body to hers, Lissa heard every word Langford uttered to Gabriel.

  She was suddenly thrown into a tailspin of emotions, and felt as though her privacy had been hideously invaded by their collective male egos. Becoming truly angry, Lissa backed away from Gabriel and Langford, lifted her chin, and glared daggers at the both of them.

  “I will have you both know that I grow weary of your very male demonstrations while in my presence,” she said, surprising them both. “My wish is to walk home alone. I am positively filled to the brim with the brutish behavior the both of you seem so bent on demonstrating!”

  With that, Lissa marched off down the lane, determined to walk home in peace.

  “My lady!“Langford begged, but Lissa would have none of his sorry apologies.

  She kept walking.“Be gone,” she warned over one shoulder, “lest I decide never to see you again.”

  ‘Twas that very threat that forced Lord Langford to still his steps. With a muttered curse at himself and at Gabriel, he turned on his heel and walked away.

  Gabriel, however, was not one to be so easily cast off. With determination, he set his paces in Lissa’s direction, the devil be damned. He caught up with her just as she cleared the last lengths of the road inside the village.

  Gone was any trace of his smile and the laughter he’d displayed near the church.

  “I don’t want you talking or even being seen with that cawker called Langford, do you hear?”

  The day was exceptionally warm, and Lissa, in her day gown of sprigged muslin, was in no mood to hear ultimatums. “I do not like the tone of your voice, sir. Nor do I like your assumption that you can tell me with whom I can or cannot associate.”

  “Langford is a snake in the grass, can you not see that?”

  “No,” Lissa flared. “I cannot. And I take offense that you seem to view me as some untried chit who cannot make her own decisions. Be gone, Lord Wylde, lest I truly get angry,” she warned.

  “Angry?” he replied. “Let me tell you about anger, Lissa. I taste it every time I see you near that man. I live it every time I envision you going so easily into his arms! The man is dangerous, Lissa, a fortune seeker. Hear me and heed my words, he will woo you until you marry him; then he will squander your inheritance and leave you alone in your marriage bed as he chases after some other pretty face. He will walk all over your heart and will not give a whit about your love.”

  Lissa was appalled. She wanted to slap Gabriel. She truly did! Did he actually think she was in love with Langford? What a ninny he was being! Couldn’t he see that she loved him? That she spent every night dreaming about his touch, his kisses?

  “You obviously haven’t learned a thing about me,” Lissa blasted at him. “You have been the perfect fiend where my heart is concerned, not Langford.” The moment the words were out of her mouth, she wished she could snatch them back. Stifling a cry, she broke away and raced for home.

  Gabriel followed. He caught one of her hands in his,
gently spun her around, and then, without a warning, kissed her fully on the mouth. Kissed her so hard and so thoroughly, in fact, that Lissa’s toes threatened to curl.

  When he was done, he whispered, “Was that the kiss of a friend, Lissa? Was it the kiss of a man who would use you then cast you aside?”

  Lissa could only shake her head.

  Gabriel let her go. “Remember the feel of my mouth on yours, Lissa. Remember that Langford, and not me, is the very devil in disguise.”

  With that, he took his leave, heading off into the line of trees, toward the river he could compass and know best, and back to his imposed life of exile.

  Lissa stood atop the lane, her body trembling and her heart shattered by his sincerity.

  “Oh, Gabriel… ,” she whispered.

  Why was it the two of them could not just simply say what was in their hearts. Why were they forever arguing?

  *

  That night, Gabriel decided to head to the Dove and finally end his vow with Lissa. He’d sworn to catch “their trout,” and he would do just that!

  Taking up his rod and his net, his basket and all the handmade flies Lissa had created, plus the Midnight Callers he’d constructed, Gabriel moved with purpose to the river.

  It was the dark of the moon, and the going was treacherous what with all the brambles, fallen trees and undergrowth. And the insects—gad, what a swarm they created about him!

  Gabriel pressed onward, though, soon coming to the lip of the river’s edge. He extinguished his light, then set to the task of hooking that blasted trout. It took him three hours of solid angling before he even got a bite, then another hour after that before the old trout he sought surfaced to take the Midnight Caller.

  Just as Lissa had told him, the trout proved to be a frenzied feeder. The fish nearly tore both body and hook from his line, so savage was its strike. Gabriel was forced to let out more line, then play the wild trout through the water. It gave him a devil of a time, trying to wind his line around the rocks and branches, and at the end it fought him magnificently.

  He grew to almost regret having hooked the trout and then reeling it in. It seemed a huge pity to kill a creature that was so full of life and energy.

  But when he’d beached the trout on the gravel—just as Lissa had schooled him to do—and he’d relit his lamp, Gabriel saw that the trout was not so full of life; in fact, it appeared that its fighting on the line had been its one last act. In the days since eating Lissa’s locket the fish had been injured on its left side. The poor thing had been deeply scored by the claws of some animal—a raccoon, perhaps, or maybe even a bigger animal.

  Whatever the beast, the wound was deep and lethal. The trout hadn’t many more days left to it. Mayhap that was the reason it had raised to Gabriel’s handmade fly.

  The only thing left to do was to end the trout’s obvious misery, Gabriel knew. With a locket in its stomach and a huge gash in its side, the fish didn’t have long to live.

  Gabriel kneeled down and made quick work of ending the ordeal. He moved his knife with sure strokes, and wonder of all wonders found himself whispering a prayer for not only the hapless trout, but Lissa and himself as well.

  Moments later he had the locket Lissa had sought with such a vengeance. He cleaned it in the river, held it in his palm, then moved it into the light.

  His stomach churned when he recognized the small family arms etched into the backside of the gold, heart-shaped piece.

  “Langford,” he breathed.

  The locket bore the seal of none other than Roderick Langford! Lissa had had him angling for a locket obviously given to her by that foul fiend!

  Bile rose in Gabriel’s throat. What a fool he’d been. What a perfect, idiotic fool….

  Chapter 14

  Lissa awoke to a disturbing revelation the next morning; she’d overslept!

  “Oh!” she cried, throwing off her covers and hurrying out of bed. “Drat that Tilly for not waking me,” she said, then cursed her own self for sleeping so late.

  She yanked open the curtains, cringing when she saw how fully up was the sun. She raced to get dressed, wondering if Gabriel was at the river wondering if she’d chosen not to join them due to the words they had shared yesterday.

  She was just about to ring for Tilly when her maid’s knock came upon the door.

  “There you are! It must be nearly eight o’clock, Tilly! How could you allow me to oversleep?”

  Tilly’s look was somber. She held a bundled package in her hands. “It be from his lordship, m’lady. And the servant who delivered it told me how Lord Wylde be in one of his black moods all the night long and how he was gone from midnight to the wee hours, then banged about his house just before he sent this package to you, m’lady. He also sent word there be no need of angling this morning.”

  Lissa felt as though the wind had been knocked out of her. Her haste immediately vanished and was replaced by a dull thud in the pit of her stomach. She looked at the package; within it was ill news, to be certain, thought Lissa.

  Her heart tightened with dread as she took the bundled package then moved toward her bed. She sat down, her hands shaking as she untied the twine. Inside the rough wrapping she found her blanket, her nature journal… and the locket.

  Tilly sucked in a gasp. “Your locket, m’lady!”

  “Langford’s locket,” Lissa said, correcting her abigail.

  “And there be a note—”

  “Yes, Tilly, I see it,” Lissa said, pure dread filling her. It would not be good news given the way he’d sent her belongings back to her. What had happened since yesterday? Certainly they had parted on a bad note… but she’d not thought their heated exchange would be a precursor to this. Was it just yesterday that Gabriel had kissed her so passionately? Now, holding his folded note in her trembling hands, that moment felt like an eternity ago.

  “Are you not curious ‘bout the note, m’lady?” Tilly asked.

  “Yes, of—of course I am. It is just that I… I need a moment to gather my courage before reading it.”

  Slowly, she opened the folded slip of paper. ‘Twas not a long note. Not at all. He did not begin it with an address, or even end it with a closing. In his bold handwriting, Gabriel had written simply:

  Your locket and your belongings. Our pact is now complete and finished.

  Lissa pressed her eyes shut against the tears she felt welling in them. Within her chest, her heart shattered into a thousand pieces.

  “M’lady?” Tilly whispered.

  Lissa did not respond. She couldn’t. She felt as though her world had just bottomed out.

  “I be afraid, m’lady. You look as though your insides have just died.”

  “An apt description,” Lissa finally said, lifting her lashes, tears spilling from her eyes.

  She set down Gabriel’s note and picked up Langford’s locket. “What a perfect nuisance this locket has been for me,” she said through her tears. “Why, look, Tilly, it isn’t even painted. All this time I could have sworn it was a painted piece, but it is pure gold. Do you know, I never even truly looked at it? And I’d touched it only to try and open the clasp.”

  Tilly said nothing, clearly fearing her lady had gone mad.

  Lissa turned the locket over in her palm. “Oh my,” she breathed, “no wonder Gabriel is so angry. Look, Tilly, at the back of the locket. It bears the Langford seal. I’d never even noticed that fact… but I fear it was doubtless the first thing Lord Wylde noticed. I am only surprised he did not march into the manor and throw the thing back in my face.”

  Tilly was horrified by the mere thought. “Should I call for your aunt, m’lady, seeing as how you are bound to be stewin’ about Lord Wylde’s note and all?”

  “Stewing?” Lissa repeated, her mind spinning with all that had just happened. “Yes, that was my first reaction, I fear… and the tears. But now that I think of it, I shall not sit in my rooms and try to bandage my heart. No. I shan’t.”

  Lissa drew in a huge brea
th, dashed the wetness from her face, then got to her feet, the locket still clutched in one hand.

  “I shall,” she said, thinking aloud, “just have to talk to Lord Wylde about this. In fact, there are a good many things I wish to say to the man today. It takes two to make a pact, and this party is not yet finished with my end of our shared vow! I shall, once and for all, own up to my feelings and tell Lord Wylde that the unmarriageable Lady Lissa has come to the conclusion that she is of the mind to marry and would like to do so with him.”

  “M’lady!” Tilly gasped.

  Lissa turned toward her maid, a renewed light in her eyes. “Tilly,” she said, suddenly taking charge of both her emotions and the situation, “bring me my writing utensils. I shall pen a missive to Lord Langford, informing him that I wish to meet with him this afternoon.”

  “What are you about, m’lady?”

  “I am going to return the man’s locket and see him out of my life forever.”

  “And as for Lord Wylde?” Tilly asked, afraid of the answer.

  “I am going in search of him. Alone. Lord Wylde and I have much to discuss. Now hurry, Tilly, I’ve much to do this day!”

  *

  Less than an hour later, Lissa, dressed in a walking gown of moss green and wearing a light cloak with the hood secured over her head to ward off the morning’s chill, made her way alone to the river.

  She was just about to the spot where the downed log lay when she heard a high-pitched and rather worrisome call from afar.

  Looking up, Lissa saw Miss Fabersham, appearing much the worse for wear and with a knitted frown atop her brow. The woman appeared to be in great distress. Her half boots were muddied, as were the hems of her dull skirt, and her hair had fallen loose of its usual tight bun.

  “Miss Fabersham!”

  The woman waved, a cry catching in her throat. “My lady! How glad I am to see you!”

  “What is it?” Lissa called.