by Anthology
It had only been when he’d finally managed to get inside the local inn that he’d gotten to the bottom of it. The bratty Brights had taken out an advertisement in the local newspaper, claiming that Hugh was desperate for a wife but far too shy to go about courting anyone and was hoping to find a lady, of any class, of any age, size, look, to be bold enough to make the first approach.
Hugh’s temper had immediately flared. This one had Louisa Bright written all over it. She was the most bookish of her sisters, the most serious. Where the other two hags were content to carry out relatively simple tricks that had an immediate impact, Louisa’s schemes were always well-planned manipulations and war strategies, the likes of which Nelson himself would be proud.
While the sympathetic innkeeper had been helping Hugh to make his escape through a back door of the inn, Hugh had been planning dastardly ways to get back at the chit.
Arriving home, he’d seen her and her evil sisters sitting on the verandah overlooking the rose gardens. As he’d approached, he saw Meredith and Sara, a mere child, make their way inside, which had suited Hugh just fine. He’d dragged Miss Louisa Bright off to a more private spot deep in the hedgerows where he delivered a furious set down in peace. The two had been toe to toe, arguing at very nearly the top of their lungs. Hugh had been, admittedly, rather insulting about the girl; she had been more so, claiming that it wasn’t her fault the village idiots seemed to have taken a liking to him. It was when she’d said that she should perhaps set up a charity of sorts, to help these women cure themselves of their lack of taste in men that the last of his control had slipped.
To this day, Hugh had no idea what had possessed him to grab the infuriating woman, pull her toward him, and crush her lips beneath his own. But he’d done it. Even now, every so often, most especially in the still, dark night, Hugh remembered the feel of her soft, plump lips beneath his own. He remembered the gasp of surprise. He remembered the scent of honeysuckle that reminded him of her to this day. Most of all, he remembered how, after her initial resistance, she’d melted against him as though she belonged wrapped in his arms.
Unfortunately, he also remembered the moment she’d reared back and smacked his face, the sound reverberating around the quiet gardens.
The sound of people emptying from the room brought Hugh crashing back to the present and to the fact that he was still ensconced in the water closet, watching like some sort of voyeur. Worse still, his little brother was doing the same.
Apparently this was to be Louisa’s room, for she was the only one who remained. Hugh darted a look at Jackson, wondering if his younger brother would somehow be able to read his thoughts and know what he’d done all those years ago. But Jack’s eyes were trained on Louisa Bright who, having placed her valise on the chaise and wandered around the room, was now unbuttoning her travelling coat.
Hugh had the sudden urge to plant a facer on his brother’s cheek, or at least cover the younger man’s eyes. Which was nonsensical. Why should he care who saw her? Why should he care that she was slowly, torturously, removing clothing, revealing smooth, supple skin, a delicate décolletage, and curves to make a man weep.
All right. That was enough. Hugh took a subtle step in front of Jackson, blocking the other man’s view.
He didn’t have to worry for too long, however, since the arrival of Miss Bright’s maid to fetch her to her mother’s room meant that she left before Jackson could push his way around Hugh.
As soon as she’d left, the men burst out of the water closet, shoving each other as they went.
“Well, looks like you’re in trouble, big brother.” Jackson smirked causing Hugh’s temper to rise.
“Do be quiet, Jack,” he responded darkly, but his eyes never left the door through which Louisa Bright had just exited.
CHAPTER TWO
LOUISA’S TEMPER WAS SOARING, and she hadn’t even set eyes on the blasted Mayford louts yet. She’d just been hearing Meredith’s tale of her first encounter with the eldest and his dismissal of her. How dare Lucas Mayford make her sister feel embarrassed?
Louisa had missed the exchange since she’d been late down to the ball.
It had taken an age to pick a suitable gown. She wanted to look her absolute best so that she was fully prepared to meet Hugh Mayford face to face again. Not that she cared what he thought of her, of course. Why should she?
And speaking of Hugh, Louisa had yet to set eyes on the man.
She had asked if her sisters had seen the other brothers but although Sara had mentioned seeing Jackson, and of course Lucas, earning a sound Meredith scolding for using their Christian names, there hadn’t been any mention of Hugh.
Then she’d had to sit tight while Meredith lectured them on decorum. Meredith had been adamant that they would rise above things and be sophisticated young ladies on this visit. Louisa heartily disagreed.
The only thing she wanted to rise above was her hand over her head so she could deal out another slap or two.
“I am not,” Sara had said hotly, “calling them Lord Ashbury, or Mr. Mayford… heavens.”
“Lord only knows what they’ll do with that kind of ego elevation,” Louisa had interjected fiercely.
“And besides, they are Lucas, Hugh and Jack to us! We’ve seen them in short pants and with bloody noses—”
“I get the picture… but we are ladies. They might be savage and uncouth natives, but we are not. We will address them as is proper because we are proper… they are simply beneficiaries of our manners.” Meredith had folded her hands on her lap in that annoyingly ladylike way of hers.
Louisa felt suddenly weary of the whole thing. She’d been living on nervous adrenaline all day, awaiting her moment of confrontation with Hugh Mayford, and the horrible man hadn’t even had the decency to turn up.
She hoped his mother rang a peal over his head for his rudeness.
“You are far too uptight,” Louisa had sighed. “I’m going to bed. Can you believe that they gave us all separate rooms? I don’t know whether to be thankful or afraid.” She hadn’t trusted a Mayford man in years, and being isolated from her sisters only increased her wariness.
And she had had every intention of going to bed. But she was so het up, so upset for her sister, that she didn’t think she would sleep at all, and so, sneaking away from the party, she wandered aimlessly around the darkened hallways of the house, eventually finding her way to the darkened conservatory.
The conservatory was blissfully quiet but unfortunately it wasn’t the best choice of rooms, given the biting cold outside.
Shivering, Louisa went to peruse the shelves of potted plants; most of them sadly empty at this time of year. But some were filled with shrubs and winter flowers, and they gave the room a pleasant, fresh smell.
Much as she tried to stop it, Louisa couldn’t prevent her mind from wandering back again.
She had come to this very conservatory all those years ago after she’d dealt Hugh the slap he’d deserved. She had been furious; with him for daring to kiss her and with herself for enjoying it so much. What the blazes was wrong with her? He had been the enemy, and she had turned to a wanton mess in his strong arms.
Her embarrassment had been acute as had been her confusion. Usually she would have gone straight to Meredith to discuss such an event. Usually, she would have been excited that she’d had her first kiss and, it had been, admittedly, extraordinary. But usual had no place in a discussion about one of the princesses kissing one of the frogs. He hadn’t even turned into a blasted prince! He’d remained the arrogant, cocky, Hugh Mayford.
As time had gone on, however, and she had replayed the kiss over and over in her mind, she began to naïvely think that perhaps Hugh cared for her. Hard as it was to believe, there was no way he could have kissed her like that if he hadn’t wanted to, was there? And there’d been so much passion, so much feeling in that kiss!
So it was, that in the space of thirty minutes, Louisa had managed to convince herself that Hugh Mayford had been
secretly, desperately, in love with her all this time, and that was why he’d put worms in her bedchamber and rotting kippers in her bed. The poor soul hadn’t had any outlet for his feelings.
And, if she were being honest with herself only, she could admit that as much as she hated him, there was a small but persistent part of her that didn’t hate him at all… that felt quite the opposite.
Jackson, though a handsome young man, was far too young and immature. Lucas scared the living daylights out of her; he was forbidding and commanding and everything an heir to a dukedom should be.
But Hugh; Hugh was always so laid back, so relaxed about things. He had a charming manner, a wicked smile, and a penchant for never really taking anything seriously. That had been a heady combination to a young lady in the first flushes of adulthood.
Louisa looked around the conservatory, seeing it as it had been that day. Hot and humid and filled to bursting with exotic flowers, their colors and smells combining to make her head spin.
Stupidly, she had allowed her mind to wander so far that she could practically hear church bells ring as she and Hugh walked down the aisle, her in a confection of satin and lace, him looking devilishly handsome in wedding clothes fit for a king.
A sudden noise behind her brought Louisa back to the present day, and she whirled round to see the source.
Oh, how she had been brought back down to earth with a bang.
As though her memories had conjured him up, there stood Hugh Mayford in all his conceited, handsome glory.
Louisa was horrified at the jolt of lust she felt upon seeing him. Had she learned nothing of the man’s black heart?
It had been three years; here was her chance to show him how sophisticated and singularly unaffected she was by him.
“What are you doing here?” she blurted out, sounding petulant and very much unsophisticated.
“I live here,” he drawled in response, and Louisa ruthlessly pushed away her reaction to his mellifluous voice.
“Here in the conservatory?” she snapped back. “Quite a tumble from lord of the manor.”
He smirked in response.
“I see time has not mellowed the viper, though it has improved you drastically in other areas.”
His heated gaze travelled leisurely down her body and back up making her feel as though she were slowly catching fire. She didn’t know whether to slap him or throw herself at him.
“I would thank you for the compliment, but since it’s you, I can only assume there was an insult in there somewhere.”
This time his smile was a full blown grin, and Louisa almost staggered back at the impact.
The dratted man! He had no business making her stagger.
“If you must know, I followed you in here,” he spoke now, stepping closer to her, his voice quiet and deep and wicked.
“How could you have followed me in here? Nobody knew I was even coming in here, and you weren’t at the ball.”
“I was at the ball. And I have been watching you all evening.”
Louisa gulped.
If anyone else had said it she probably would have worried for her life. But as awful as Hugh and his incorrigible brothers had been over the years, she’d never actually feared them. Rather than make her afraid, therefore, his words made her positively combust.
Stop it, Louisa, she scolded herself, remember what he said about you.
Deciding to ignore his words, because really, what sort of answer could she give to that, she focused instead on the reasons for his shadowing her.
“Why did you follow me?” she demanded.
“Perhaps I’m hoping for a repeat of the last time we were alone.”
His words, spoken so softly, had the effect of rendering Louisa entirely speechless. And that was a first.
“Come now, Louisa, do not pretend you have forgotten.” He smirked wickedly, stepping closer to her.
“I-I don’t know what you mean,” she stuttered, desperately wanting to back away from him but refusing to give him the satisfaction.
“Oh, you don’t?” He quirked a brow and Louisa had the ridiculous urge to reach up and run her finger along it. She, who had never been particularly attached to eyebrows in her life.
“No,” she said forcefully, hoping to remind herself, as well as he, that they were sworn enemies, and this was highly inappropriate.
“Hmm. I must admit to a rather bruised ego,” he said with a rueful grin that was much more endearing than it had a right to be.” Perhaps I should remind you.”
Yes, her body cried out.
“No,” her mercifully more logical mouth said. “You should not.”
Louisa thought she saw a flash of disappointment in his cobalt blue eyes but that was madness of course.
He stepped back, and she schooled her features not to show the disappointment she felt.
“What do you really want?” she asked, desperation tingeing her tone now.
She wanted to run away from him, gather her scattered wits, and set about putting the arrogant earl who had upset Meredith in his place.
Her question seemed to take him aback slightly. His eyes widened infinitesimally, before his brow furrowed.
“I’m starting to think I have no idea,” he said roughly.
And once again, Louisa was speechless.
WHAT THE HELL WAS wrong with him?
Hugh hadn’t been lying when he’d told the delectable Louisa Bright that he’d been watching her all evening.
In fact, he’d taken rather a lot of abuse from his irritating little brother because of it.
And yet, he hadn’t been able to stop himself.
He’d been held in rapt fascination by the shimmer of gold in her hair caused by nearby candlelight, by the musical lilt of her laugh as it reached his ears from across the room, by her grace and elegance as she took to the dance floor with more partners than he was happy about.
Mostly, he was base enough to admit, he’d been held captive by the sway of her hips as she walked, the curve of her lips as she smiled, the way her dress clung, then swirled away from her body, causing him no small amount of discomfort.
Of course he’d watched her. He’d be a fool not to.
She was silently waiting for him to actually tell her what he was doing here, so he forced himself to concentrate.
In his own defense, he had had genuine reasons for following her in here. He’d noticed, just as Jackson had, and no doubt how she had, that Lucas was getting a little more distracted by Meredith Bright than anyone was happy about.
It was time to bring this encounter to a close lest he do something idiotic, like kiss her again or, worse yet, ask her why she hadn’t been as affected by their first kiss as he had been.
“I think it’s fair to say that after years of enmity between our families, a truce is not something you would be agreeable to.”
Hugh, for one mad moment, wished for her to deny his words, to say she wanted nothing more than to end the feud. Perhaps to even begin a relationship which would be the exact opposite of a feud…
Her unladylike snort was all the answer he needed, however.
“So then, you wouldn’t be thrilled to learn of my older brother’s — er — sudden fascination with your sister?”
He watched as a frown creased her brow, her green eyes snapping.
“Fascination?” she scoffed. “Hardly. The great big oaf gave her the cut direct. And you can tell him from me,” She stepped forward, her finger prodding his chest, “that if he so much as looks at my sister again in a manner that she finds anything less than respectful, I shall—”
“You shall what?” Hugh interrupted, his temper flaring. “You shall screech at him like a common fishwife?”
Her jaw dropped open at his words and then snapped shut. Hugh could actually hear her teeth grinding together.
“How dare you?” she finally gasped, her outrage doing terribly distracting things to the low-cut bodice of her satin gown.
“I dare because your
Ice Queen sister is no more innocent in this than my brother,” he snapped. “Which is exactly why I wanted to talk to you.”
He watched emotions dash across her expressive face while some internal battle or other raged. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and then leveled her gaze at him.
“Alright. What is it?”
Hugh gritted his teeth at her imperious tone but made no comment.
They’d been at this to-ing and fro-ing long enough as it was.
“For some inexplicable reason, Lucas has taken a shine to your sister,” Hugh started. The hypocrisy of his words did not escape his notice. Lucas’s shine to Meredith couldn’t have been any less than his own to Louisa.
“Are you deaf?” she interrupted, raising his hackles yet again. “Did you not hear me when I said he’d been unpardonably rude to her?”
“I heard you,” he responded through clenched teeth. “But as shocking as it is, he hasn’t stopped bloody watching the chit all night, according to Jackson, and that presents a problem.”
“You have just admitted to staring at me all evening, Hugh. Why should Lucas and Meredith be cause for concern?”
Well, she had him there. Hugh steeled himself against the wave of pleasure at hearing his name on her lips. Her distractingly plump lips, one of which she was currently nibbling.
“Because,” he croaked. “Because I have the good sense not to do anything. Lucas, well I’m not so sure about Lucas.”
