Even as she thought the words, Lucy knew how preposterous they were. It was not Mr. Ludlow’s fault that Tanglewood was for sale. The fact of the matter was that Colin did not have to sell if he did not wish to. But he did wish to, and therein lay the real problem. He wished to sell, leave, and never return. Perhaps Lucy had merely been a diversion to keep him entertained until a buyer could be found.
And now she was dancing with said buyer.
“Perhaps we should sit the rest of this dance out,” Mr. Ludlow suggested as he clasped hands with her again. “You are looking a little pale.”
Lucy very nearly accepted his offer when the Draysons were announced. Colin was almost a head taller than his mother and sister and most of the surrounding people, so it was easy to spot him. He made a quick perusal of the room before his gaze rested on her. She stumbled over several steps of the dance as she watched him draw closer and closer. The only reason she was able to remain in the dance at all was because of Mr. Ludlow’s firm grip on her hands.
Lucy pried her gaze away from Colin and focused on her partner instead. The hardened look about him reminded her that she needed to be the same. She would keep calm. She would stay strong. She would remain impenetrable.
A coolness settled around her, and when Mr. Ludlow asked again if she would like to sit down, Lucy said firmly, “I would like to dance, sir.”
He smiled, showing his dimple. “I believe you are an enigma, Miss Beresford.”
“How so, Mr. Ludlow?”
“I have never seen quite so many expressions on one’s face throughout the course of a dance.”
Lucy clapped hands with another partner, circled around him, and returned to Mr. Ludlow. She immediately rounded her eyes in a wide-eyed expression of fright, and he burst out laughing.
Next came crossed eyes, followed by a distasteful, scrunched up nose, the batting of her eyelashes, and finally, a coy, bashful sort of look. “If only I had a fan to hide behind,” she murmured as the dance came to an end.
Mr. Ludlow chuckled as he led her from the floor. “I must say that was the most diverting reel I have ever danced, Miss Beresford. I shall never forget it.” He bowed low over her hand, and when he rose, he added, “I am very glad we are to be such close neighbors.”
“You speak as though the contract has been signed, Mr. Ludlow,” intruded a voice that sent unwanted thrills down Lucy’s spine. Colin stepped next to her and directed an icy stare at Mr. Ludlow.
“Has it not?” came Mr. Ludlow’s response.
“No, it has not.”
“You have changed your mind then?”
“I have not yet made up my mind one way or another,” came Colin’s answer. “But when I do, you shall be the . . .” he paused, glancing at Lucy, “second to know.”
The hardened look was back in Mr. Ludlow’s eyes, but instead of responding, he bowed over Lucy’s hand again. “It has been a pleasure, Miss Beresford. I do hope I shall get an opportunity to stand up with you again.”
“I would like that very much,” said Lucy. Then he turned around and was gone, leaving Lucy alone with Colin in a crowded room. She frantically searched for her parents, Mrs. Bidding—anyone—only to have her view blocked by Colin moving in front of her.
“May I have this dance, Miss Beresford?”
She could not run, she could not hide, and she definitely could not slap his face like she wanted to do most. “No, you may not,” she said instead.
He looked beyond her and quirked an eyebrow. “Perhaps you wish to dance with Mr. Mead instead. He is headed this way with a rather determined look in his eye.”
Lucy hesitated. Dancing with Mr. Mead was like dancing with an excited puppy. He bounced, he trounced, and he always left her with a wet kiss on her hand.
“Very well,” she said, ignoring Colin’s arm as she led the way to the dance floor. When she turned around to face him, there was no Mr. Mead in sight. Her mouth dropped open, and she glared at Colin.
“You lied,” she mouthed.
“I have evened the score,” he mouthed back.
The music began and she handed him a limp hand that she pulled away the moment she switched partners. When they came together again, Colin asked, “How is your garden?”
“Good.”
“And your riding?”
“Good.”
“The ball?”
“Good.”
“Have you read any interesting books lately?” he tried again.
“No.”
“At last.” He grinned. “A different answer than ‘good.’ I call that progress.”
Lucy left him and took another’s hand. Almost immediately her arms began bouncing up and down, and she glanced at her new partner to see that Mr. Mead had joined the dance. Well of course he had, she thought dryly. Lucy vowed then to never attend another ball as long as she lived.
When she took hands with Colin again, he pulled her slightly closer than necessary, and her traitorous body shivered in response. She would not be undone by him, she would not.
“It is a good thing we did not meet at a ball,” he said. “I would have found you very dull indeed.”
“Perhaps we should have met at a ball,” she snapped back. “Only think of all the disappointments we could have avoided.”
His lips lifted into a half smile. “Ah, there is the spark I have come to love.”
Lucy had never been more grateful to exchange hands. She ripped hers from Colin’s and practically latched on to Mr. Mead, not caring that he shook her about. How dare Colin speak of love? How dare he walk into her ball, ask her to dance, and expect her to behave as though he had not split her heart in two?
It took every ounce of strength within her to take his hands again. How long would this blasted dance continue? As the last notes finally faded away, Lucy released the earl’s hand and left him standing on the dance floor without a word. She strode quickly through the crowded room, needing some air. A few people called out to her, but she pretended not to hear. She needed to be free from people, the noise, the sounds, and especially Colin. Thankfully, she knew this house well and quickly located the hidden side door where she could escape to the library, and on through that to the darkened conservatory. She had discovered this beautiful glass-encased room within a day of her arrival at Knotting Tree. It wasn’t quite the same as being outside, but it was a close second.
She breathed in the luscious aroma of vegetation and sank down on a marble bench, dropping her head to her hands. What a coward she had been. Though she had lasted through to the end of the dance, the moment the music ended, she had picked up her skirts and fled. Eventually she would have to return, but how could she possibly do so with her head held high?
“May I join you?” a voice said from the darkness. Lucy lifted her head, but she did not have to look behind her to see who had spoken. She would recognize that voice anywhere.
He must have taken her silence for a yes because he sat down beside her. After a few moments, he spoke quietly. “As I told Mr. Ludlow, I have not sold Tanglewood yet.”
“What are you waiting for?” Lucy asked. “Simply sign the papers and be done if that is what you wish.”
“I do wish it,” he said. “Tanglewood has been nothing but a drain on our holdings during the past several years. Besides the manor house, all the tenant homes are in serious need of repair. It will take a great deal of money and time to restore it to a respectable state, and for what purpose? My family’s home is in Danbury. It is a beautiful, fully restored estate that is quite lucrative, and it also happens to be close to several other holdings in which we are invested. I have no idea what Mr. Ludlow’s reasons are for desiring Tanglewood, but he wants it. He wishes to make something of it and has the means and the time to make it happen. He has also offered a large sum that is worth more than Tanglewood at the moment. I would be a fool to pass on his offer.”
Lucy felt her spirits sink lower with every word he uttered. How could she have ever held out hope that he woul
d want to make Tanglewood his home? It seemed such a silly, juvenile hope now.
“I do not understand what the problem is,” said Lucy.
“Do you not?” he whispered, angling his body toward her. “You are the problem. You and only you.”
Lucy’s eyes snapped to his in confusion. How could she be the problem? Granted, there had been a time when she had been a very big problem, but she and her mother had since moved out of the dower house, and Lucy had not stood in his way since.
One of his fingers grazed hers, as though testing it. When she did not flinch or draw away, he slid his hand under hers and curled his fingers through hers.
“I have fallen in love with you, Miss Lucy Beresford,” he said. “More than anything, I want to ask you to be my wife.”
Lucy gasped. For a few moments she did not breathe at all, and then her breath came in and out in short bursts, as though she had just raced across the meadow and could not catch her breath. Had Colin just asked for her hand? Or hadn’t he? She didn’t quite know, but she felt a burst of joy that gave her reason to hope.
He sandwiched her hand between both of his. “As I explained to you earlier, it does not make sense for my family or me to remain in Askern. But perhaps, together, we can find a way to make it work, if that is your wish. If not”—he swallowed—“then by asking you to be my wife, I am asking for you to leave your home, your family, and all you hold dear and come with me to Essex. I have been wrestling with this for weeks, telling myself it was not fair to ask such a thing of you, attempting to figure out a way to remain here, and feeling like there was no good resolution. So here I am, unloading my problems to you while hoping and praying that you can aid in the solution of them. You—”
“I most certainly can help,” Lucy blurted. “It is quite a simple solution, really. Sign your name on that dratted contract and ask me to be your wife. Or have you already asked me? I am a little unclear on that point.”
He studied her a moment, his brows furrowed. “Of course I have, but I do not think you realize what I’m asking. Your mother—”
“My mother has Mr. Shepherd now,” said Lucy. “And he has her. And I will always have them both no matter where I live. You say that I will be leaving all that I hold dear behind, but that is not the case at all. You have become far dearer to me than anyone else in this world, so why in heaven’s name would I choose to remain behind when you are offering me a great deal more? Can you not see that? I choose you, Colin. Always you.”
He let out a breath that sounded more like a strangled chuckle. “I did not dare hope,” he said. “I knew you cared for me, but then you said you could not imagine living anywhere else. I thought if we had more time, I might convince you that—”
“Colin, you have just asked me to be your wife, and I have given you my answer in as straightforward a manner as I know how. I believe it is long past time for you to kiss me and put an end to this silly conversation. And in the future, I hope you will think to ask my opinion sooner rather than later.”
He chuckled. “Given the force with which you speak your mind, I suspect I will not need to ask it.”
“And I shall continue to speak my mind,” she answered. “Now kiss me, or I shall have to resort to kissing you, and we both know how unseemly that would be.”
“Because you never behave in an unseemly way,” he teased, framing her face with his large, warm hands.
“If I am to be the wife of an earl, my behavior must always be above reproach, mustn’t it?”
He kissed her then, and Lucy kissed him back. In that moment, everything felt exactly as it should.
“Don’t ever change for anyone, my love,” Colin whispered against her lips. “I prefer you exactly as you are.”
A door opened somewhere, but Lucy did not care and neither did Colin it seemed. He continued to kiss her quite soundly until a shrill voice rudely interrupted their happy moment.
“Lord Drayson, Miss Beresford!” gasped Mrs. Bidding. “You must stop this at once!”
Colin smiled against Lucy’s lips before he slowly drew back and pulled Lucy to her feet beside him. “Is there a problem, Mrs. Bidding?” he asked.
“My lord,” she said, her eyes narrowing. “I may have looked the other way before, but I can do so no longer. I must insist you go to Mr. Shepherd at once and do the honorable thing by Miss Beresford.”
“You are quite right, Mrs. Bidding. If you’ll excuse us, we shall go straightaway.” Colin began to lead Lucy passed a shocked Mrs. Bidding, only to hear her say, “We?”
Colin glanced over his shoulder. “Yes. We.”
“Always we,” Lucy agreed. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Bidding, for finally making Lord Drayson see reason. I must admit, I had quite lost hope. Now I owe all my happiness to you.”
“Oh, well . . . of course, my dear. Anything for you.” Mrs. Bidding had never looked more pleased.
As Colin led Lucy from the room, he whispered, “I thought you were through with telling tales.”
“That was not a fib,” said Lucy. “That was creative truth-telling, and it is a perfectly acceptable thing to do.”
“For the daughter of a vicar, you have very loose standards. Breaking vows, inventing lies, picking locks, stealing plows, allowing yourself to be thoroughly compromised—not once but several times—and now bending the rules of truth and deceit to suit your wiles. I find myself quite shocked indeed.”
“Prepare yourself then,” warned Lucy. “For the most shocking thing is yet to come.”
“Dare I ask what that could possibly be?”
“Certainly,” she said. “I would very much like you to convince the orchestra to play a waltz, ask me for a dance, and continue to dance with me the remainder of the evening.”
His eyes widened in a dramatic show of astonishment. “How will our reputations withstand such scandal?”
“They shan’t,” teased Lucy. “So you see, it is a good thing we will be removing to Danbury.”
Colin laughed. Then he stopped and gave her one more kiss before they reentered the ballroom and went in search of Mr. and Mrs. Shepherd. They were both delighted that Lucy and Colin had finally figured things out. Hugs were extended to both, and when Mr. Shepherd made a public announcement, the room broke out in cheers and applause. Lady Drayson and Harriett rushed to congratulate the couple as well.
Several minutes later, when the orchestra began to play a waltz, Lucy glanced over in surprise to see Colin—her Colin—walking away from the musicians and toward her with a devil of a smile on his face.
Harriett recognized the tune and leaned in close, whispering in Lucy’s ear. “I believe that you have agreed to marry quite the scoundrel.”
“It is a good thing I am rather fond of scoundrels,” said Lucy, allowing Colin to take her hand and bring it to his lips.
“If you are not otherwise engaged, Miss Beresford, might I have the honor of this dance?”
“You certainly may.” Lucy smiled as he swept her into his arms, held her much too close, and swirled her around and around and around. She used to think balls were horrid, tepid affairs where one had to always be on one’s best and dullest behavior, but how wrong she had been. If only Lucy had put a little more faith in her new papa’s wise counsel. How right he had been when he said her story was not near to being over yet.
Indeed, it was only just beginning.
Dear Reader,
Thanks so much for reading! I hope it gave you a break from the daily grind and rejuvenated you in some way. Everyone needs an escape from reality once in a while. This will be the start of a Tanglewood series, so if you enjoyed this book there will be a few more to come.
If you’re interested in being notified of new releases, feel free to sign up for my New Release mailing list on my website at RachaelReneeAnderson.com. (You will only be emailed about new releases.)
Also, if you can spare a few minutes, I’d be incredibly grateful for a review from you on Goodreads or Amazon. They make a huge difference in
every aspect of publishing, and I am always so thankful whenever readers take a few minutes to review a book.
Thanks again for your support. Best wishes!
Rachael
Other Books by Rachael Anderson
Novels
The Reluctant Bachelorette
Working it Out
Not Always Happenstance (A Power of the Matchmaker Novel)
Meet Your Match Series
Prejudice Meets Pride
Rough Around the Edges Meets Refined
Stick in the Mud Meets Spontaneity
Novellas
Righting a Wrong
Twist of Fate
The Meltdown Match
About Rachael Anderson
Rachael Anderson is a USA Today bestselling author and mother of four crazy and awesome kids. Over the years she’s gotten pretty good at breaking up fights or at least sending guilty parties to their rooms. She can’t sing, doesn’t dance, and despises tragedies, but she recently figured out how yeast works and can now make homemade bread, which she is really good at eating. You can read more about her and her books online at RachaelReneeAnderson.com.
Acknowledgements
I have to start off by thanking my friend, Kathy, at BookwormNation.blogspot.com for encouraging me to stretch my wings by trying out a new genre. I am so grateful for all your kindness and support.
Kathy Habel, from IAmAReader.com, what would I do without you? From beta reading to marketing, you have helped me with every single one of my books. You have been an answer to many prayers, and I will always feel indebted to you.
Letha, what an awesome sister you are! Thanks so much for talking me through some of the more sticky parts of my plot. I am so thankful for your creativity, humor, and willingness to help me out whenever I have a need.
As usual, I have to thank Karey White for being the best kind of friend there is. You have listened, encouraged, and listened some more. You also happen to be the most brilliant editor ever. Bless you for your goodness and friendship.
The Fall of Lord Drayson (Tanglewood Book 1) Page 23
