by Rue Allyn
“You won’t mind if I ask why?” His tone was flat, even a trifle chilly.
She put her chin up. He’d no cause to treat her coldly for rejecting charity. A fish would have been warmed by his offer. “I doubt my reasons will please you.”
“Nonetheless, I would like to know them.”
“You do not love me, sir. What you offer is a marriage of convenience. Although what convenience such an alliance may be to you, I cannot imagine.”
His expression hardened, his jaw growing tighter by the moment.
Mae gathered her courage and continued. If she was going to reveal her feelings, she would show them all. “Grandfather did not encourage participation in the social scene. Therefore I have no social standing that can bring you any advantage. You cannot possibly want to marry a penniless woman, and I will not believe you so callous that you would propose marriage as a means to have a child simply to allow yourself access to the Alden fortune. A fortune that, I remind you, you already control as executor. Marriage to me can do nothing for any ambitions you have.”
The ice left his eyes. “You say a great deal of what I will not gain by wedding you, but nothing of what you will lose.”
Her lips trembled, and her hands fisted in her skirt. She would not expose herself further and risk derision for her fears. Instead, she fell back on pride. “As long as the Alden estate remains unsettled, my sisters and I will be objects of pity, whether we wish it or not.”
“I do not pity you, Mae. I despise your situation, and I am greatly concerned for your safety.” He grasped her shoulders, turning her to face him.
She wished she could mistake his meaning. “Once the terms of Grandfather’s will become public, I am well aware I may be the object of undesirable and unwanted attentions from men of all sorts.”
“His will places you in danger of another abduction and worse. You need a protector.”
“You believe that protector should be you.”
“It would be one advantage of our marriage. You would also have a confidante, someone with whom to share your troubles. You might even discover unexpected pleasures.”
“Being under the legal protection of a man has brought me more sorrow than pleasure.”
“Not all men are like your grandfather. Marriage to me would be very different from his guardianship. Allow me to demonstrate.”
“How?”
He drew her close and bent his head. His eyes filled her vision, and he laid his lips over hers.
She inhaled a silent gasp of surprise. Then heat and surging pleasure overwhelmed her senses. She should not want this. She should resist. If she yielded, she would have no place to hide. Her private hopes would be exposed. Did she have the courage to step from the shadows? She wasn’t in any danger now—or was she?
His lips played on hers. The kiss lingered sweet with yearning. Something—desire?—rippled through her as his arms enfolded her and his mouth coaxed hers open. Yet she still held herself back from the fascinating changes his touch wrought in her body.
Despite a burning rush of sensation, she could not throw caution to the flames. Nonetheless, she returned the kiss, desperate to know if he offered safe harbor or only deeper darkness. She wanted to cast aside fears to indulge in one bittersweet instant of madness, one day of loving when pleasure and delight held the world and worry at bay. She did not dare. She nearly wept, certain she would never again have the chance.
When James lifted his head and released her, Mae felt dazed, disoriented. Fire leapt in his hazel gaze. A tender smile tilted his mouth—that talented, hazardous mouth.
She wanted to reach for him, but she’d already risked too much. Safer to retreat, rebuild the defenses where she could hide from the emotions he stirred.
• • •
“Well?” His question dropped into the silence.
A becoming blush colored her face. She stepped back, looking everywhere except at him. He wished that blasted will to Hades.
She lifted her hands to cover her cheeks and cleared her throat. “I have given you my answer and do not feel obliged to explain. Once that onerous will is in the past, I may see things differently. If you still feel so inclined, you may restate your offer then.”
His mouth twitched. He was sorry to have embarrassed her, but he could not regret the kiss. “What if I don’t want to wait?”
Though strained, her voice was steady, but her hands trembled. She made a valiant attempt to maintain outward calm.
“While our acquaintance is short, you have never shown yourself to be an impatient man. A single kiss will not convince me that you have developed a sudden and demanding passion for me. Be practical, sir. Our marriage would serve neither of us well.”
He stared at her a long time, admiring her determination, then nodded. “I believe marriage would serve us both very well. However, I have been too abrupt in my proposal and will drop the subject, for now.”
The tension left her shoulders. She obviously believed refusing his proposal was best. She was wrong, but now, when she was so visibly distressed, was not the time to press his suit.
She picked up the packet from the side table as she crossed the room. “You will excuse me, please. You have brought me much work, and I had best get to it. I will have Henries see you out.”
The door closed behind Mae, and James sat once more to wait for the butler. Her physical response to his kiss had been unmistakable, and thus her rejection was all the more perplexing.
Surprisingly, her refusal had hurt. Reining in that hurt to analyze his feelings had been difficult. Thankfully he’d managed. He’d lost his senses and kissed her without thinking. For those brief, intimate seconds, there had been no horrid will, no logic, pity, or pride between them, only sweet sensation. He’d gloried in her response. Certain she would accept now, he’d released her only to find he’d made things worse. The irony was, he’d believed a dispassionate approach would appeal best. It hadn’t, but neither had an appeal to her senses. She’d remained staunch in her opinion that marriage was not what she wanted or needed. He, on the other hand, had received an even greater shock than her refusal.
He hadn’t realized that on such short acquaintance he had developed tender feelings for Mae. However, after that kiss, the longer she spoke, the more he’d acknowledged he not only respected her, he liked her and found her—exhilarating was the only word that came easily to mind.
If that kiss was any indication, Mae was passionately sensual and hid that fact even from herself. She was also honorable, completely unlike her grandfather. Carlton Alden had always acted with cold calculation, taking every advantage he could get and many he didn’t deserve.
Mae did not deserve the fate to which the man had condemned her.
James would do everything possible to see that she enjoyed a much different life in the future. At present, blinded by years of living at her grandfather’s beck and call, Mae was being practical—an admirable wifely trait.
Thus, he would respect her wishes, for the present, and remain executor of the will. It was the best way to watch out for her welfare until she allowed him to care for her as a husband and the father of her children—and they would have children. The idea of bronze-haired, green-eyed tots racing about the grounds of the Collins’s home was oddly appealing. Meanwhile he would use his executor’s position to show her his best side and prove they were a good match. He might even enlist Aunt Lydia’s help, since John claimed she was in full matchmaking mode.
• • •
In the back parlor, Mae dumped the document packet on the table, tossed herself into a slipper chair, and glowered at the reminder of James W. Collins V. What she felt was relief, surely. She could not possibly regret doing the right thing. Nonetheless as she’d closed the door on James, a great hole opened beneath her heart where repressed need fueled a spark of ire that still smoldered.
That spark flared, filling the empty place her rejection of his offer left. How dare he propose to her out of pity then make
everything worse by trying to sway her with kisses! Had he issued even one word of love, she might have responded differently. She might have confessed that while she wouldn’t marry, she hoped a warmer intimacy might blossom between them.
As things stood, refusal was her only reasonable option. It was the right thing to do. She was glad, and if James wasn’t glad now, he would be. By the time his work as executor was done, he’d have forgotten all about the proposal.
And she? She would resign herself to a spinster’s life. No other man would be idealist enough to offer marriage out of pity, nor had she met any man—and she hadn’t met that many—who appealed to her as James did.
She expelled ire and regret with a huff of breath. She couldn’t remain angry with him. He’d sought to remove her from a difficult situation. The real problem was that all of her life, everyone—well, everyone but Grandfather—had tried to keep delicate Persephone Mae from any hurt or ill. Her sisters had conspired to shield the youngest and smallest of them from their guardian.
Even the servants, save for Henries, had protected the sisters, and Mae most of all. More than once the cook, a scullery maid, a footman or whoever was handy made every effort to divert Grandfather’s frequent tantrums. Usually one servant spoke to Grandfather while another hurried the girls from his presence. It didn’t always work. All too often Grandfather’s wrath remained unappeased until he’d beaten it out on his granddaughters’ backsides. However, it was almost always Edith or Kiera who took the caning. Thus, Mae had become the healer and cared for her sisters’ injuries. Those beatings and the aftermath had drawn the three together as nothing else could.
Grandfather may have died, but he was still a monstrous presence in their lives. With Edith and Kiera away, Mae must be the one to face down his last act of misogyny. She must be the one to solve the problems posed by the will, so that all three of them could at last live freely.
Could marriage to James be that solution? Surely he would not keep the entire estate for himself and his children. He would share the inheritance with her sisters as Grandfather should have ordered. Yes, marriage to James might resolve the problem of the inheritance, but that marriage would be wrong. No joy could come of a loveless match no matter how much money was involved. In fact, much evil could result. Grandfather had been rich beyond words and look at the kind of man he’d been.
Sighing to herself and seeing no way out of her current dilemma, Mae sat up straight and reached for the packet. She would read and sign papers. Wearying as that task was, it was her duty to be able to tell her sisters what their precise circumstances were. If she had questions, she could always ask James to explain.
On Thursday evening, Mae set the last document aside on her desk and reached for pen and paper. She had a document of her own to pen. She would take several days to consider the wording carefully. She prayed James would approve the terms and sign it when she saw him next week.
CHAPTER FOUR
After dinner Sunday, John escorted Miss Cressida Damato on a drive around the park while her brother visited a business acquaintance, and James settled into a large cushioned wicker chair on the back porch of his aunt’s house.
Lydia Wadsworth Collins-Morton was an imposing woman. Intelligence gleamed in her Collins’s blue eyes. Her deep brown hair was liberally streaked with gray, and lines of humor framed her mouth. She was a shrewd woman who wanted only the best for her entire family, James included.
He watched his younger cousin supervise setting up a croquet game on the lawn as Lydia poured coffee.
“Victoria learned the game in England and is mad for it. Nothing would do but we should have a set made so she could play every day. I believe she’s encouraging her friends to form a club. I wish Eulalie would join in the fun. Her husband’s been dead for two years, and as a young widow she should consider finding another spouse. She cannot remarry if she behaves like a matron of fifty and continues to dress in widow’s weeds.” Lydia’s gaze drifted across the lawn to the bench where her niece sat under a rose arbor.
“Queen Victoria still wears black in honor of her husband. I believe Lalie loved her English lord very deeply.”
Lydia snorted. “You got that English bit from John. Despite the title, Eulalie’s husband was an impoverished Scot. An officer in the British Army who spent the majority of their marriage attached to the embassy in India. If Lalie loved the man, it wasn’t because he was ever home to earn her affections. He left her moldering in a broken-down ruin beside a frigid mountain lake. I’m not surprised she miscarried, living in such an unhealthful, heathen place. I was right to bring her home.”
James gazed at his sister. She was much changed from the laughing young girl who’d gone to Europe with a friend’s family then stayed to marry a man he’d never met. Had he the ability to change her circumstances he would, but he was no miracle worker. Only time could heal the pain of loss and grief.
Mae Alden, however, suffered an excess of responsibility. He imagined no one would mourn the loss of an old hypocrite like Carlton Alden. Nor would James blame Mae if she cut short her mourning to accept a marriage proposal. He couldn’t comprehend her reluctance. Whatever the source, it wasn’t grief for the loss of her grandfather. Her scruples required that she wait, for the time being he’d respect her preferences.
He cleared his throat, garnering his aunt’s attention. “I wished to speak to you on a somewhat delicate matter.”
“Oh.” Lydia raised a brow and lifted her cup to her lips, sipping while she waited for him to explain.
“I need your help with a marriage proposal.”
The cup clattered as she set it on a side table. “James, that’s wonderful. Who is the lucky woman? Do I know her? Please tell me it is not that dreadful Lyttle-Bowen girl. I’m sorry if it is, for I cannot like her or her very conceited, managing mother. That woman has her husband on leading strings. I declare, supporting your husband is one thing but using him as a puppet to get your way is quite another. Of course her father bought him for her and…”
James nearly laughed at the look of dismay on Lydia’s face.
“Oh dear. I’ve let my tongue run away, haven’t I?” Clearly mortified, she retrieved her cup and bowed her head over her coffee.
James smiled. “Yes, you have, Aunt Lydia, but you’ve said nothing that I and a dozen others have not thought, which, I assure you I will not repeat. However, I phrased my request badly. Allow me to explain.”
Lydia gave him a sidewise glance. “Of course.”
“I have already proposed and been refused.”
“Then the girl has no sense, and you should not bother with her.”
“I think the problem is that she has too much sense, which she applies to the needs of others over herself.”
“You intrigue me. Who is the girl?”
“Persephone Mae Alden.”
“Alden, you say?” Lydia lowered her cup and saucer to her lap and worried a fingernail with her teeth before pointing the digit skyward. “I know the Alden name. That horrid old man recently passed away. If memory serves, he was your client. Never tell me he has a daughter?” Her look of dismay was nearly as amusing as her earlier mortification.
“No, Mae is his granddaughter, the youngest of three.”
“As Alden’s granddaughter, she’ll be a considerable heiress, even if she only gets one third of his fortune.”
“Again no, she’ll most likely be destitute by the time the will is fully executed. Carlton Alden literally left his estate to the dogs, unless one of his three granddaughters bears a child within the next two years.”
“That’s positively medieval.”
“You don’t know the worst.”
Lydia raised her brows. “Do tell.”
James related the terms of the will and the fact that it would become public record as soon as it cleared the probate court. He also explained that Mae was alone and without any family to support her.
“That poor girl, how young is she?” His aunt’s
expression eased and sharp cunning gleamed in her blue eyes.
“She reached her majority earlier this year.”
“You say she must have a child within two years or lose all expectation of inheriting.”
“Yes. If unscrupulous fortune hunters don’t take advantage of her to gain the Alden wealth, she’ll be a pauper. She’s already suffered one abduction attempt.”
“Who would do such a thing?”
“Criminals looking for easy prey, in this case. She escaped her captors before they could attempt to collect the ransom. The police arrested the culprits and are certain the men acted on their own initiative out of greed. However, others may attempt similar aggressions.”
“Will you hire guards for her?”
“I am in the process of interviewing candidates.”
Lydia stared at him, her mouth round. A moment later she smiled. “Well, you can afford a pauper for a wife. Did she explain why she turned down your offer?”
James hesitated, but Lydia needed to know if she was to help. “Mae thinks I offered for her out of pity.”
He watched his aunt choke back a laugh.
“Truly, you must have bungled the thing, if she thought that.”
“We haven’t been acquainted long, so I did everything I could to assure her that she would not be taken advantage of.”
Lydia chuckled. “I translate that to mean you tried to convince her in the same manner you would try to convince a jury. Did you kiss her?”
The tips of his ears heated. “What has that to do with anything?”
His aunt looked at him askance. “You are nearing thirty. I would think you have sufficient experience with women that I need not explain attraction to you.”
“My experience is not germane.”
“James, you are a fool. Whether you kissed her or not, no wonder Miss Alden refused you.”
He sighed. “I would much rather focus on how to change her mind than my experience with women.”
“I need knowledge before I can help you. Since your male pride prevents you from providing accurate information, I will visit Miss Alden and get what I need from her.”
