by Meara Platt
However, he dared not say anything more. He’d already been overheard, thankfully caught in an innocent statement. In this, Honey was right. Whatever dreaded secret she had to reveal to him, could not be done while others were around to overhear.
They were on day three of their closer acquaintance.
One more day and he’d know the truth.
One more day and he’d ask her to marry him.
She smiled up at him, her expression impudent, or at least appearing so with her eyebrows arched to give her that irreverent look. “Thank you for your assistance, Lord Wycke.”
He grinned back. “My pleasure.”
She took her plate and settled at the opposite end of the table from him, a stark reminder of their difference in rank. He endured some more good-natured ribbing from his friends when they caught him admiring Honey from a distance.
“Be careful, Miss Farthingale. Lord Wicked still has his eyes on you,” one of the gentlemen teased.
One of the other ladies at the table tittered. “He’s awfully hard to resist when he turns on the charm.”
“Thank you for the warning, Lady Margaret. I shall remain on my guard. I think these handsome gentlemen are all thoroughly wicked, and we must all beware lest we be persuaded to do more with them than read a book.”
When they’d all finished, and the others left to change into their riding habits, Tom had a moment alone with Honey. “How are you really?” he asked, frowning in concern.
“Truly, I’m well. I’m not sorry about sharing more than a chaste kiss with you. I’m not sorry about a single moment spent with you. But that discussion is for another time. I was planning on going up to your mother now.”
“I’ll walk up with you. Remson should have been ready to leave by now, but there’s no sign of him yet. I may as well check on her with you before I deal with the duke and his daughter.”
They walked up together.
His mother’s door was open, and Dora eagerly waved them in. His mother was washed and dressed, now seated in a comfortable chair by the window, which allowed her to gaze onto the garden below. She turned to smile at them as they walked in. “Good morning, Tom. And my dear, Honey. Isn’t it a lovely day?”
Tom knelt beside her. “How are you feeling this morning?”
“In very good spirits. And you, my son? What are the planned entertainments for today?”
“Several guests are going out riding, then later, we’ll have a few rounds of croquet in the garden. You’ll have a grand view from here.”
“Honey, will you be playing, too?”
“Yes, Lady Wycke. Our first round will be men against women. Second round will be Lady Phillipa against Lord Wrexham. Loser must muck out a stable stall. We are all hoping that task falls to Lord Wrexham.”
“Oh, that does sound fun. Perhaps I’ll sit with Lavinia and cheer you ladies on. I’m sorry to turn traitor, my dear boy. But I think you will bear the disappointment with your typical manly grace.”
Tom laughed. “I am wounded. My own mother turning against me.”
But he smiled in relief, wishing to capture this moment and have her back as she’d always been. Why couldn’t she stay this way? Unfortunately, he knew she would be quite different in a few hours. Did she have any inkling of what she’d done to Honey’s gowns? Honey, with her typical sweetness, was chatting with her as if last night had never happened.
If only he could be so forgiving.
“What’s planned for this evening, Tom?” his mother asked, nudging him out of his musings.
“We’ll have music and dancing.” He winked at Honey. “I intend to claim two waltzes from Miss Farthingale, if she’ll consent.”
“Oh, Honey. Please do say yes. It’s obvious my son likes you. But watch yourself. He is an irresistible rogue.”
Honey cast him a warm look. “Two dances, my lord? That’s rather forward of you. But by fortunate coincidence, I happen to have two open on my dance card.”
Tom left Honey talking to his mother while he went downstairs to await the duke and his daughter’s departure. It didn’t take long before they met him in the entry hall. “Wycke,” the deflated man said with a shake of his head, “I hope to see you in London. We’ll talk further then.”
“Of course,” he said with a nod. “I wish you a good journey.”
He turned to Lady Sarah, who was flanked by her two friends. By the defiant pouts on their faces, he could see they’d learned nothing. Any contrition they might have felt yesterday was completely forgotten.
He was too disgusted to bid them farewell.
“Amelia, Jenna, go on ahead. I’ll be right there.” Sarah waited for her friends to climb into the ducal carriage before turning to him and flashing him a cold smile. “You’ll regret this, Lord Wycke.”
He bowed over her hand. “I sincerely doubt it.”
“Convey my regards to Miss Farthingale.” With a toss of her head, she turned and marched toward her father’s waiting carriage.
Disgust and rage filled him once more. He wasn’t worried for himself, but that last remark directed at Honey was a threat against her. He would make sure to mention it to the duke when he returned to London. With luck, the man will have shipped his viper of a daughter off to some convent in the wilds of Scotland by then.
He waited until they were through the entry gate to Halford Grange before he turned away to march upstairs. Honey was just leaving his mother’s room, and by the warmth of her smile, he knew it had been an excellent visit. “Care to walk along the river with me?” he asked.
She nodded and hiked her gown up slightly to reveal her foot. “I’d love it. I’ve already put on my sturdy boots.”
They walked out together with only the book, and a blanket to spread upon the ground. They wouldn’t have long since the riders would only be gone an hour or two at most. But he’d grab any time he could with her. Just having her by his side brought light into his heart.
When they reached the river, he set out the blanket under a shade tree and stretched out atop it, propping on one elbow as he set the book between them and opened it where they’d left off. Honey sat beside him, but she was looking off toward the rushing waters, seemingly lost in her thoughts. “What’s on your mind, Honey?”
“That I’m going to miss this place. It’s beautiful out here, Tom. I’m glad you made me come here for your weekend party.” She shook her head and laughed. “Well, you invited me. My family was going to drag me here whether I wanted to come or not. I was afraid to be here.”
“Why?”
She turned to smile at him. “Because I liked you too much already. My meddlesome family knew it and were going to push me at you no matter what my own wishes were. Everything I feared would happen has happened. But I got my kiss from you and so much more. I have no regrets, even though what will come next might be painful for us both.”
He reached for her hand. “The only pain will be in our not being together. That isn’t going to happen. I won’t let it happen.”
She leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the lips. “Thank you, Tom. Let’s read now. I’m curious to know what binds two people beyond the initial attraction of the senses.”
They got through several chapters, one on why arranged marriages often work out when supposed love matches don’t. “It’s a matter of expectations,” he read. “When one enters an arranged marriage, the expectation is low. One’s hope is that the partner they are matched with will be pleasant enough to tolerate. When that partner turns out to be tolerable or even more than tolerable, there is relief and acceptance.”
“And for love matches?” Honey asked, her eyes luminescent as she smiled at him.
“Too often, the expectations are set high. Often set too high. We expect perfection in our chosen mate and cannot help but be disappointed when he or she fails to meet the ideal we’ve created in our mind.”
“That makes perfect sense. It is one thing to love someone and think they are the most wonderful being
on this earth, but it is also important to acknowledge and accept their faults.”
Tom nodded. “True love means accepting the person for who they are, not trying to change them into something they cannot be.” Was this Honey’s secret? Was there was a failing about her that he could not change? If so, it was extremely well hidden. This girl was flawless. Not only in her outward beauty but inside as well.
This was another thing that surprised him, something he now understood after reading the book. He’d noticed Honey months ago because of his low brain response. Luscious body. Beautiful face. Beautiful mane of fiery gold curls. Sparkle in her eyes. Body that stopped his heart. Need to mate with this girl.
While all this still held true, his body’s response had quickly turned into something more. Behind the sparkle in her eyes was intelligence and a sharp wit. Behind her smile was gentleness and warmth. Beyond physical lust was the realization of all the other needs she fulfilled. Caring partner. Loyal partner. Loving partner.
He shook out of the thought.
He’d just read this chapter on raised expectations and understood the importance of using common sense, not blind infatuation, before making the leap into marriage. He did not think he was blinded to who Honey was at heart. “Now, onto the chapter about the common threads that connect us to one another.”
She inched closer. “Yes, that one has me quite curious. Perhaps this is the most important thing to me. What does an earl descended from one of the most prestigious bloodlines in England have in common with a common shop owner?”
He reached out and caressed her cheek. “What you really want to know is, what will bind us together, keep me from walking away from you once you reveal your secret?”
Chapter Eleven
Honey was used to playing croquet with her large and boisterous family, everyone aiming to strike the other balls into the hinterlands and then grimacing as theirs went flying off the course as well. This match with Tom and his friends was no less rollicking, Phillipa was a one-woman destruction team, her aim always on the mark. She was out for blood now that Lord Wrexham had riled her.
The constant reference to balls had the men snorting and chortling like infants, especially whenever Phillipa threatened to crush their balls, mostly Wrexham’s, who at times was rolling on the ground, laughing so hard he could barely catch his breath.
Lavinia and Tom’s mother sat together on the veranda, watching them and cheering for the ladies. The sun shone against a brilliant blue sky, and a light breeze swirled around them, carrying the scent of roses from the flower beds.
Nathaniel, Poppy, and Pip had gone for a late ride and now joined Lavinia and Lady Wycke on the sidelines. Periwinkle leaped off Lavinia’s lap when he saw Pip and began jumping up and down every time Pip hopped or cheered the men.
When Honey’s ball rolled beside Tom’s, and she had the opportunity to knock his into the meadow, she hesitated. “Oh, Lord,” Phillipa muttered, slapping a hand to her forehead. “Don’t go soft on me, Honey. We have to win this game.”
Tom winked at her.
His smile was so endearing, she felt herself melting. “I’m so sorry, Lord Wycke. Off to the meadow it must be.” She drew back her mallet and suddenly shrieked as he caught her up in his arms and carried her off to the sidelines. “You wretch! That’s cheating.”
But she was laughing so hard and felt so wonderful held in his arms, she didn’t really mind. The game had descended into chaos anyway, and everyone was having too much fun to care who won or lost. Not even Phillipa minded. The real game came next, her one-on-one battle with Lord Wrexham.
He was a handsome fellow, but Honey had thought little of him until now. She couldn’t understand why he’d been foolishly pursuing Lady Sarah, and because of it had dismissed him as a dimwit. But he didn’t appear to be an idiot at all. She suspected Phillipa would have more of a battle on her hands than she realized. “Tom,” she whispered when he brought her a glass of lemonade and came to stand by her side as they watched the game commence. “It doesn’t make sense.”
“What doesn’t?”
“Why was Wrexham fawning over Lady Sarah when he’s obviously much more intelligent than to be chasing the likes of her?”
She was surprised when his smile faded, and he stiffened at her side. “Honestly, I don’t know. It puzzled me, but who can say what attracts one to another? Look at us. I keep having to remind myself we’ve only gotten to know each other over this weekend. It feels like you’ve always been in my life. More important that you always should be in my life.”
She nodded. “I hope so. It will be up to you to decide.”
“Ah, putting the blame of the outcome all on me?”
She inhaled sharply. “No…I…”
He walked away to see how his mother was faring. By his smile of relief, Honey knew this would be one of her good days. That would cheer him. However, she’d made that stupid remark, tossed the responsibility for their fate all on him, and he would not so easily get over his irritation about it.
She tried to concentrate on the croquet match taking place between Phillipa and Wrexham. Poppy, Nathaniel, and Pip now joined her, and soon afterward, Lord Jameson and Lady Margaret came to stand beside her as well.
Still, she was troubled, not liking the way things had been left with Tom. She resolved to talk to him later to straighten things out. She hadn’t meant to dump all responsibility on him. He was not at fault. Nor was she. Circumstances were what they were. Either he’d care and decide not to see her again, or he wouldn’t care, and they’d marry.
Had she told him before they had shared this weekend together, she was certain he would have walked away. He might still, but at least she’d given it her all. If they were meant to be together, then they would be.
She returned her attention to the field of play and cheered along with the ladies for Phillipa. The men rooted for Wrexham, calling out advice and warnings to him, usually when he was about to take his shot. “The dignity of our manhood is at stake! Don’t fail us.”
However, no one was surprised when he lost.
Nathaniel covered Pip’s eyes when Wrexham then gave Phillipa a kiss hot enough to set fire to the lawn. Grinning from ear to ear, he then removed his jacket, rolled up his shirt sleeves, and sauntered to the stable. “Wait for me!” Phillipa hurried after him.
Lord Jameson groaned. “After the kiss he gave my cousin, I’d better go chaperone them.”
“I’ll come with you,” Lady Margaret said.
Poppy laughed softly. “I think all four of them need chaperones. Ah, Lady Margaret’s father is thinking the same thing. He’s going to join them in the stable. Oh, poor Margaret. I do hope she gets one stolen kiss from Lord Jameson. She obviously likes him.”
“I don’t know what all the fuss is about,” Pip said.
Nathaniel ruffled his hair. “You will in time.”
Lunch was a pleasant affair, and Honey could see Tom relax as his mother joined them at the table, seeming to have an easy time chatting with her old friends. In truth, she did well at first. But Honey noticed the moment she began to fade and stumble over her words. Poppy and Lavinia also began to notice, and they all did their best to take over the conversation and keep her from growing agitated.
When everyone rose from the table, Honey came over to her. “Lady Wycke, may I help you upstairs?”
Poppy joined them, leaving Nathaniel and Pip to assist Lavinia, whose mind was sharp as a tack but whose legs were not what they used to be. “Yes,” Poppy said, “we’ve had a busy morning. I think we ought to rest for the afternoon. We want to be at our best for this evening’s dancing.”
Lady Wycke glanced around nervously. “Where’s my Tom?”
Honey felt Tom’s presence but was afraid to turn around and look at him. He was still irritated with her. “He’s right behind us, Lady Wycke. See? He’ll join us once he’s attended to your guests.”
She nodded and was docile as a lamb as they brought her upstairs.
Honey smiled at her. “So are we.”
She turned to Poppy when they were once more in the hall. “Will you be retiring as well?”
Poppy shook her head. “I’m meeting Pip in the library. He’s going to choose a book, and we’re going to read. Speaking of books…”
Honey groaned. “I don’t want to talk about that book.”
“Why not? I saw you reading it with Lord Wycke by the river. How are things progressing between the two of you?”
“I don’t know.” She hadn’t shared her secret with Poppy, although she wasn’t afraid her cousin would ever betray a confidence. But Poppy’s sister, Violet, knew. And their cousin, Holly, knew. Two Braydens, Finn and Joshua, knew because they’d been there when the secret was discovered. She did not want it going any further.
Poppy arched an eyebrow. “You don’t know? The man is obviously in love with you. He can’t keep his eyes off you, and his expression softens every time he glances your way.”
“Well, perhaps. But we’ve only known each other a few days. You knew Nathaniel all of your life. It took years for him to realize he’d loved you all along.”
Poppy hugged her. “You’re right. I’ll stop meddling now. Which you know is very hard for a Farthingale to do. Oh, Honey. You know I only wish the best for you.”
“I do.” She gave her a hug in return. “I’ll be fine. No matter what happens. People will start leaving tomorrow. I just want to enjoy this evening and as much of tomorrow as possible. It’s best not to make too much of one weekend. We’ll see what happens once we’re all back in London.”
