The Runaway Heiress

by Brenda Hiatt

  Morosely, he surveyed the handful of farmers chatting about spring planting prospects in the corner near the fireplace. Maybe coming here hadn't been such a good idea after all.

  The door opened again and he glanced up without much interest, expecting yet another farmer, but was surprised to see a smartly-dressed gentleman who appeared to be about his own age. The man appeared to be familiar with the place, for he moved without hesitation toward a table near the window, calling out for a drink over his shoulder.

  "Excuse me," Silas said, standing to get his attention as the man passed his table.

  The gentleman glanced his way, started violently, paled, and turned toward the door. But then, glancing back at Silas again, he stared for a moment, then relaxed as suddenly as he had panicked.

  "Sorry," he said rather breathlessly. "Thought you were someone else for a moment there. Not many fellows your size hereabouts, you see. Did . . . did you want something?"

  "I was going to suggest you join me. You're the first man I've seen since I arrived who looks like he can carry on a conversation about something other than drainage and seed starts."

  Silas waited until the other man had taken a chair across from him and been served his own mug before saying, "The man you mistook me for a moment ago— that wouldn't have been a Mr. Turpin, would it?"

  The stranger looked suddenly wary again. "Why? Is he a friend of yours?"

  "Not exactly." Silas chuckled. "But as you said, how many men of my size can there be in this district? It seemed an obvious guess. I'm Silas Moore, by the way." He extended his hand.

  "Gregory Plunkett," responded the other man, taking the proferred hand in an indifferent grip. "Moore, did you say? Well, ain't that an odd coincidence."

  The name Plunkett niggled at Silas's memory but he could not quite place it. "Coincidence? How so?"

  "I nearly married a Miss Moore in Scotland a few weeks since, before Turpin intervened. It's rather an odd, long story."

  Silas sat back in his chair and took a long pull from his mug. "I'm in no hurry. I'd very much like to hear it."

  Dina turned this way and that before the long pier glass mounted between the windows of her bedchamber. Perhaps it was simply an illusion created by the shimmering, emerald green silk ballgown and the waning daylight, but her reflection showed a woman who was almost beautiful —and very feminine.

  The gown, cut low and gathered high beneath her breasts, made the most of her modest bosom, while the deep green of the silk made her hair seem a richer red by contrast and accentuated the creaminess of her skin.

  She had allowed Francine to apply just the slightest hint of color to her cheeks and lips for this special occasion, and had to admit that it enhanced her appearance. The green silk ribbon and tiny white flowers woven through her red curls completed the Christmas effect.

  It was a pity she did not feel as festive as she looked. She had not seen Thor since early afternoon, as he'd chosen to spend the day with his friends instead of with her. Friends he'd left in Melton-Mowbray only the morning before —friends to whom he had apparently spoken disparagingly of her, judging by the comment she had overheard Sir Charles make as they left the ballroom.

  Glancing at the mirror again, she forced a bright smile in response to her maid's questioning glance. "You have outdone yourself, Francine. Thank you."

  Dina reminded herself that she had no right to pout simply because Thor was living his life as he chose —as she'd promised he could do. No, she would dance and be all that was charming tonight, and if Thor did not notice how pretty she looked, other gentlemen would. Perhaps, if he noticed them noticing . . .

  A tap sounded at her door and an instant later Violet swept into the room, a welcome interruption to such wistful thoughts. "Oh, Dina, you look simply gorgeous," she exclaimed, giving her confidence a needed boost. "I knew that color would flatter you, but I had no idea how much."

  "Thank you, Violet. You are a perfect vision of loveliness yourself, you know."

  It was true. Dressed in clouds of white gauze threaded with the narrowest of red ribbon at hem, waist and neckline, Violet looked like a Christmas angel.

  Violet dimpled at the compliment and twirled before the glass. "It is pretty, if a bit childish. I would far rather wear dramatic colors than insipid white, to tell you the truth. Married women have all the fun."

  Something in Dina's expression must have hinted at her disagreement with that statement, for Violet suddenly frowned at her, then motioned for Francine to leave them. As soon as the maid was gone, she sat on the bed— carefully lifting her confection of skirts to avoid creasing them —and regarded Dina with serious eyes.

  "What is it, Dina? Are you and Grant at odds with each other? I thought, or at least hoped, when I saw you together this morning, that you had finally come to a new understanding."

  Dina bit her lip, then released it before she could chew off the tinting Francine had applied. "I wouldn't say that we are at odds, exactly. It's more that we don't . . . he doesn't . . ."

  "He doesn't treat you like his wife?"

  With a sigh, Dina nodded. "I shouldn't complain, truly, for we agreed before we married that there would be no real, ah, intimacy between us. And that's what I thought I wanted —then."

  "But now?" Violet prompted gently.

  "Now— Oh, I don't know." Dina turned away to gaze out the window, refusing to give in to the prickling she felt behind her eyelids. "I've . . . I've grown to like him quite a lot," she finally confessed when Violet remained uncharacteristically silent.

  "But that's wonderful," Violet exclaimed, bounding up from the bed to hug her. "Is it because of that kiss Mother insisted upon, or did you two not go through with it? I could see Grant didn't care to be forced like that."

  "We, ah, we went through with it."

  Violet put a hand to her heart, her expression dreamy. "And was it wonderful? Do say it was wonderful."

  "It was actually quite nice," Dina said, "or at least I thought so. But then he left for Melton-Mowbray the very next morning, so perhaps he wouldn't agree."

  "So that is all that has happened between you? That one kiss?" She was clearly disappointed.

  Dina could only nod, trying not to show her own disappointment.

  Then Violet caught her completely off-guard by asking, "Do you think you're in love with him?"

  "I don't know," Dina whispered. Then, in a stronger voice, "I suppose I should hope I am not, if he does not feel the same."

  Violet looked thoughtful for a moment. "I suppose that's true. Sometimes I think— But that's neither here nor there. It's completely unthinkable that Grant can see you tonight, looking as you do, and not fall prostrate at your feet, head over ears in love. You'll see. One look at you and he will sweep you off upstairs for a night of passionate romance."

  Dina had to laugh at her sister-in-law's unquenchable optimism. "I take leave to doubt that, but if he indeed falls to the floor —or sweeps me upstairs —you may say you told me so." She had no expectation of hearing Violet say those words, however.

  Still, when the two of them went downstairs a few minutes later to join the family and houseguests in the parlor before dinner, she had to admit that the expressions on all of the gentlemen's faces were quite gratifying. Even Lord Rumble, who tended to ignore formalities, rose to his feet and bowed.

  "I don't know that I've ever seen such lovely ladies," he said, coming forward to take Violet's hands and kiss her cheek, then turning to do the same with Dina. "The two of you, with Lady Rumble, put me in mind of the three Graces."

  Dina murmured her thanks and glanced at her mother-in-law, who blushed nearly as pink as the brocaded silk ballgown she wore.

  "Why, Lord Rumble," she exclaimed. "I'd nearly forgotten what a pretty way you have with compliments."

  Thor's voice came from just above Dina's shoulder. "Indeed, such beauty would inspire any man to eloquence." She turned, startled, then caught her breath at the look in his eyes. Violet, just beyond him,
winked and nodded.

  "Thank you," Dina said, certain that she was blushing just as deeply as Lady Rumble had done. "You look very fine yourself."

  She was forcibly reminded of their first night at Plumrose, when she'd seen him formally dressed for the first time. The night he'd kissed her for the first time —the only time. If anything, he looked even more handsome now, in tails and knee-breeches that showed off his muscular calves to advantage.

  "We gentlemen in our dull finery can't compete. We must content ourselves with complementing —and complimenting —our partners." Thor extended an arm and Dina, slightly dazed, placed her hand upon it so that he could lead her to the sofa near the fireplace.

  "I must say, you clean up very nicely, Dina," Silas agreed from the other side of the room. "But Miss Turpin, you fairly take my breath away. I regret now that I only bespoke two dances, for I'm certain that once the other gentlemen get a look at you, there'll be no chance of any more."

  Dina felt Thor's arm tense under her arm, the brief spell between them broken. Guiltily, she realized that she should have taken the opportunity upstairs to speak with Violet about her brother rather than the details of her own marriage.

  "Moore is quite right, Miss Turpin," Sir Charles chimed in after what Dina was almost sure had been a slight nod from Thor, beside her. "In fact, I'd like to take this opportunity to solicit a second dance myself, if you'll grant it."

  Violet laughed delightedly. "You gentlemen will quite turn my head if I let you, but yes, Sir Charles, you may have another dance, if you insist."

  She glanced at Lord Rushford, clearly expecting him to make a similar request, but at that moment the butler announced that dinner was ready.

  Silas was the first to Violet's side, forestalling the other two gentlemen. "You will do me the honor of allowing me to lead you to table, Miss Turpin, will you not?"

  "Violet, you should allow Lord Rushford to lead you in, as he holds the highest rank here," Lady Rumble protested.

  For the merest moment Violet hesitated, with another glance at the earl, but when he did not immediately step forward, she took Silas's arm with a smile. "Nonsense, Mother," she said. "Silas is family, and this is a family dinner."

  Again Dina wished she had spoken with Violet about Silas earlier, but then Thor drew her to her feet and she no longer had any thought to spare for her sister-in-law, so affected was she by his nearness, by the firm feel of his arm beneath her hand. What was wrong with her? She had hoped to bewitch him tonight, not fall even further under the spell he'd already cast upon her.

  "I hope you will like what we have done to the ballroom," she said as they descended the stairs to the dining room, mainly for the sake of saying something.

  He smiled down at her, making her heart accelerate just as though she'd been doing calisthenics. "I'm certain I will, for you will be decoration enough, with nothing else necessary."

  She felt her eyes widen at this, his second compliment to her within five minutes. Perhaps Violet had not been entirely wrong after all. "You are very kind," she said in all sincerity.

  At that, however, he seemed to withdraw, his expression going blank as he turned his eyes forward. "Not at all."

  "You'll notice that I've ordered only a light dinner tonight, as there will be a nice hot supper during the ball," Lady Rumble told them all as they arranged themselves around the table. "We mustn't linger at table too long, as guests will begin arriving in just over an hour."

  "That's just as well," Violet said, "for I'd not want to be too full to dance." Silas and Sir Charles, sitting on either side of her, both hastened to agree with her.

  Dina glanced from one to the other, wondering a bit wistfully what it would be like to have gentlemen vying for her attention. It was something she'd never experienced, and wasn't ever like to, now she was married.

  Lord Rushford, on her right, startled her by saying, "Mrs. Turpin —Dina—I have neglected to ask if you would honor me with a dance tonight. Will you?"

  "Oh. Of . . . of course," she stammered, wondering in embarrassment whether her thoughts had shown on her face. His expression was merely pleasant, however, not pitying.

  "I reserve the supper dance." Thor, on her other side, spoke coolly. "As well as the first dance, of course."

  "And all waltzes?" Lord Rushford looked amused, though more at Thor than at her, Dina thought.

  Thor frowned at his friend for a moment, but then shrugged. "You may waltz with her, if you wish."

  The illusion that they were competing for her attention vanished. Clearly, Thor meant only to observe the proprieties. No doubt that had been the motivation behind his compliments as well, keeping up appearances before his friends and family. And Lord Rushford was merely being polite —and perhaps teasing his friend a bit.

  She sighed and picked up her spoon.

  With one last, warning glance at Rush, Thor turned his attention to his soup as well. It was already taking every ounce of his control to resist Dina's charms without his friend baiting him like that. At least, now he realized what Rush was doing, he would not fall into that trap again.

  He sneaked a sidelong glance at Dina while she was focused on her dish, still stunned by her appearance tonight. Lately it seemed as though each time he saw her, she was even more beautiful than the time before. It couldn't be just the gown, though that was lovely, for he'd thought the same even when she'd worn that old gray thing to the gymnasium that morning. He was rapidly becoming obsessed with his wife, he realized. But what was he to do about it?

  Running away to Melton for two weeks hadn't helped in the least. And now he was back, he could scarcely avoid her, particularly tonight. Not only would it looked dashed odd, it would give every gentleman in the district an open field to dance and flirt with her. The way she looked tonight —he sneaked another glance —they would be falling at her feet, unless he was at her side to prevent them.

  For the remainder of the meal, he tried to distract himself by keeping an eye on Silas Moore and his conversation with Violet, with some small success. That afternoon in the billiards room, he had enlisted the help of his friends to keep them apart, and Stormy, at least, had risen to the task. Still, Violet and Moore were chatting together more than Thor would like.

  "Goodness, look at the time," Lady Rumble exclaimed, just as his thoughts were drifting back to Dina for the dozenth time. "We must hurry to our places before the first guests arrive."

  A startled glance at his plate showed that Thor had indeed finished all of his dinner, though he could not now name a single dish he'd eaten. Dina, he noticed, had eaten far more lightly. But then she was small, and had eaten well that afternoon.

  As there was now no time for the gentlemen to linger over port and cigars, they all rose, the gentlemen helping the ladies to their feet. This time, Thor noted with approval, Stormy had been quicker than Moore and was the one to lead Violet from the room. Then Dina placed her tiny hand upon his arm and he was unable —again —to think of anything but her. Her hair. Her skin. Her scent. Her feminine daintiness.

  It was that last thought that stopped him on the verge of paying her another compliment. Swallowing, he instead said, "I believe Mother wants us to stand just beyond her and Father in the receiving line."

  His voice was more brusque than he'd intended, and Dina responded with a questioning glance. Afraid of what his own eyes might reveal, he stared stolidly ahead. He simply had to get his emotions under control. There was a whole evening to get through. He didn't dare even think of what would follow, going upstairs to their adjoining rooms, bidding Dina good night in the hall . . .

  It was a relief when the guests began arriving a few minutes later, but the distraction was short-lived, as every one of them made a point of congratulating him on his new bride.

  "Such a delight, our new Mrs. Turpin," gushed Lady Vaile, Sir Albert's mother. "Do you know, Mr. Turpin, that she and Miss Turpin helped me deliver food baskets to some of our elderly tenants last week? I doubt I could have man
aged on my own, with this gouty toe of mine."

  Thor glanced down at Dina, who smiled at the older woman. "It was a pleasure to do so, Lady Vaile, and a wonderful way to learn more of the district. Please let us know when you need help again."

  "You are generosity itself," said Sir Albert, coming along the line behind his mother. "And I'm hoping that generosity will extend to granting me a dance tonight. Will it?"

  Dina's smile was identical to the one she'd given Lady Vaile, but for some reason it bothered Thor this time. "Of course, Sir Albert."

  A few minutes later she promised a dance to Horace Smallbone as well, then another to Jeremy Nesbit, Rose's brother. Thor almost said something about making sure she left a few dances for him, but then thought better of it. Dancing with Dina was likely to be pure torture, so the fewer the better . . . he supposed.

  After what seemed an eternity of jealous twinges followed by Thor chiding himself for those twinges, they were released from the receiving line to mingle with the guests. To distract himself from the heady sensation of Dina's hand on his arm, Thor looked around for Violet. She was already talking with Moore again.

  "I take it you've had no chance to speak to Violet about your brother?" he murmured to Dina.

  Following his gaze, she shook her head. "We only had a few minutes in private before coming down for dinner, and discussed . . . other matters."

  Her constraint made him wonder whether she had deliberately avoided the topic. She had promised, however, so he would not badger her about it. Irrelevantly, he noticed that he could see well down her cleavage. He frowned. None of her other partners would be as tall as himself, but they were still all much taller than Dina, which meant—

  "—overdo the greenery?"

  "I beg your pardon?" Thor felt his ears reddening. He had been so preoccupied by her bosom that he'd missed her question.

  "I was just wondering whether we were too lavish with the decorations. With all of the candles lit, it looks rather different than it did in daylight."