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Convenient Proposal to the Lady

Page 11

by Julia Justiss


  After all, for most men, success in their career was more important to them than their choice of a wife. At least she brought him a handsome dowry to fund his parliamentary activities.

  Best of all, his absorption in his career would leave her free to focus on hers. Unlike her father, he was fair enough to cede to her the money that rightfully belonged to her, funds that would allow her to travel, complete her sketches on time and see her book through to publication.

  In return, he would be free to go his own way—and associate with whomever he chose.

  She smothered an uncomfortable flare of protest by reminding herself why it was such a wise arrangement. Allowing him to seek his pleasure elsewhere would leave him too satisfied to bother with beguiling her.

  She’d not escaped her father’s iron-fisted control over her life to be lured into voluntarily offering power over her to another man—even one as principled and attractive as Ben Tawny.

  Especially one as principled and attractive as Ben Tawny. She already liked and admired him; it would be all too easy to fall further under his spell. Not only could he distract her from the work she yearned to accomplish, but it would be foolish in the extreme to let herself become too attached to a man who’d freely admitted he ‘had a certain reputation with the ladies’.

  A sudden image flashed into her head: waiting at home, yearning for his touch—wondering if he was with another woman and when or if he’d return to her. She recoiled, a sick feeling in her gut.

  No, best not to let herself become fascinated by a man whom every other female found equally fascinating.

  Even if she were not faced with the daunting prospect of having to share her husband with other women, it would be better not to become too attached to him. The ache of loss she felt every time she remembered Will should be enough to convince her not to risk losing her heart to any man.

  She would honour her agreement to marry Ben Tawny. But she would also make sure the settlement terms guaranteed her a lifelong independence, get the wedding accomplished speedily and from then on spend as little time as possible in the company of her intelligent, charming, and seductive new husband.

  Sure now of how she meant to go forward, Alyssa took a deep breath and began to help Molly with the packing.

  * * *

  But the difficulty of keeping her vow to maintain her distance became apparent soon after they rejoined her mother in her sitting room to await Mr Tawny.

  ‘Are you feeling better, my dear?’ her mother enquired as they walked in.

  ‘Yes, Mama, I am.’

  ‘Partly due to Mr Tawny, your ladyship,’ Molly said. ‘Never would have expected a gentleman to know just what to send up to a body what had been near starved! Now, I admit I had my doubts when I learned how he’d hoodwinked all of us, turning up to question the maids and valets in the servants’ hall at Dornton like some sly rogue out of Bow Street! But my, how he’s worked since to safeguard Lady Alyssa!’

  ‘He is a most impressive gentleman,’ her mother said.

  With a sigh, Alyssa silently agreed. That he was as admirable as he was attractive did not help her resolve not to fall under his spell.

  He must have some flaws—which she’d doubtless discover. Or not, if she followed her wise counsel to limit the amount of time they spent together.

  Despite that rallying thought, she couldn’t steady the shaky breath she drew as Brewster opened the door to announce Mr Ben Tawny.

  Starved, beaten, numb, she’d found only comfort when he’d held her close in the cold, dark prison of her bedchamber. But washed, refreshed and revived by the meal he’d had sent up, she was conscious of his visceral appeal the moment he walked into the room.

  She was equally unable to still the flutter in her pulses as he halted to bow before her.

  ‘Lady Alyssa, I was so relieved when Brewster came to fetch me, saying you had completed your packing! I hope that means you are feeling better?’

  ‘Yes, thank you, Mr Tawny. All the more so after the meal you ordered for me. Hungry as I was, I would probably have devoured anything, but the bread, broth and cold chicken settled particularly well.’

  He shrugged off the compliment. ‘A lesson from my soldiering days. After being on short rations, it’s best to start with something light.’

  ‘Well, it restored me wonderfully. And I am ready to depart.’

  Suddenly she realised she’d left her hand resting on his far longer than courtesy dictated. Liar! a little voice in her ear whispered as she hastily removed it. You are not at all prepared to turn yourself over to him. Just look at you, babbling on about broth and chicken!

  Somehow, she’d lost the wonderful ease she’d felt around him when she’d met him in the wood. That she’d still felt, even alone in the upper chamber of an inn, when he’d given her the most sensual kiss she’d ever experienced.

  It was one thing to flirt, or share delectable kisses, when she expected she would never see him again. But how was she to stave off the advances he’d hinted at, once they were wed? Another wave of anxiety rippled through her.

  After all, marriage would require a modicum of togetherness, at the very least until the settlements were completed and the wedding itself performed.

  Would he try to persuade her afterward into granting those husbandly rights? Could she resist him, if he did?

  ‘When do you think you will be ready to depart, Lady Aldermont?’ Tawny asked, his voice jolting her out of her thoughts.

  ‘If you can delay just a bit longer, Linden told me she can have me ready to leave this afternoon. I’ve already notified Brewster to have the travelling coach prepared. If that is acceptable, Mr Tawny?’

  ‘Whatever will make the journey more comfortable for you and Lady Alyssa is agreeable to me, Lady Aldermont.’

  ‘Excellent. Molly, will you bring us more tea? I expect by the time we’ve had some refreshment, the baggage coach will be packed and we can set out. We should have enough daylight to reach Romley before nightfall—there’s a very fine coaching inn there. Will you ride, Mr Tawny, or can I persuade you to join us in the coach?’

  ‘I shouldn’t wish to crowd you, but if Lady Alyssa will permit, I’d be delighted to join you in the coach.’

  Two questioning sets of eyes turned to Alyssa, pinning her like a botanical specimen on a tray. She hesitated, swallowing the refusal that sprang automatically to her lips.

  It was dismaying enough to discover her mother would be ready to leave at once, so she would not have the several days at the village inn she’d been expecting in which to recover from the ordeal with her father—and think through more carefully all the implications of marrying Benedict Tawny. It was more alarming still to envision him in the coach, instead of riding beside it, as she’d assumed he would. Sitting opposite her where, at any moment, some bump on the road or sharp corner taken too quickly could bounce her foot against his, or jolt her against him...

  Her mouth dried, her pulses leapt and swallows swooped and soared in her stomach.

  She refocused to find Tawny looking at her in concern, her mother in surprise at her apparent lack of gratitude to the man who’d given up so much to rescue her. ‘Of course I’d prefer that you ride with us,’ she said, flushing with annoyance.

  Heavens, it was time she stopped acting like a nervous virgin left alone with a practised seducer. Mr Tawny had assured her there would be no intimate contact between them unless she desired it. Enthusiastically, passionately demanded it, she recalled his words.

  She had the uneasy suspicion he might be able to entice her to do just that.

  But, at least along the road to London, her mother’s presence would prevent both enticement and surrender.

  He was still gazing at her, she realised. She forced herself to give him a smile, which he returned with a reassuring wink.

&n
bsp; ‘I thought travelling together would give us a chance to become better acquainted. I already know you possess a keen sense of honour, courage, determination and a wonderful artistic talent, Lady Alyssa, but I know very little about your life up until now. I should like to learn more.’

  Resigning herself to the inevitable, she said, ‘If we are to spend much time together, you should probably call me “‘Lyssa”. The only person I know well who still calls me “Lady Alyssa” is my father.’

  ‘I would not like to be ranked with him,’ Tawny said with feeling. ‘“Lyssa” it shall be and you must call me “Ben”. Lyssa—a diminutive, for a small lady?’

  Alyssa had to laugh. ‘Hardly that! As I imagine you suspect, I was never one for sewing samplers or sitting decorously at Mama’s knee. Once I was old enough to escape the nursery maids, I trailed after my brother. It was he who began calling me “Lyssa”—claiming he couldn’t imagine a female “less a” lady than me. We remained close companions on his visits home from school—until he grew old enough to take my father as his model.’

  ‘Not that his discouragement turned your interest to more maidenly pursuits,’ Lady Aldermont said with a sigh.

  ‘No, I simply went exploring on my own,’ Alyssa acknowledged. ‘Harleton had begun teaching me to use a fowling piece. After he abandoned me, the gamekeeper discovered me trying to slip a weapon out of the gun room. Deciding it was safer to teach me to use it properly than to let me experiment, a menace to grazing cattle or farmers working in the fields, he finished my training. He and the grooms made sure I could handle any horse or firearm on the property.’

  ‘Because they knew you would simply go after it on your own, if they refrained from teaching you?’

  Alyssa nodded, unable to stifle a smile. ‘I could climb up and down trees or buildings like a monkey and pick any lock they installed.’

  ‘In between the sketching and shooting and riding and exploring, I truly did manage to instil some notion of household management in her,’ her mother said. ‘Though, as I already warned you, she was never much interested in “feminine” pursuits. If she wasn’t haring off, riding the wildest of her father’s hunters, or sitting by some muddy pond sketching water birds, she was whiling away her time in the library, studying every book she could get her hands on.’

  As she watched Tawny listening intently to her mother, Alyssa suddenly realised he might just as easily have bid them goodbye an hour ago and returned to London, instructing the ladies to follow at their leisure. Instead, he had chosen to join them on the journey.

  So she might have someone with whom she was comfortable to act as a buffer between them as she—and he—worked through the inevitable awkwardness of going from virtual strangers to marriage partners? While at the same time, giving them a leisurely opportunity to become better acquainted, which should further alleviate that awkwardness.

  ‘We are already friends, are we not?’ he’d said the first time he’d asked her to marry him, back at Dornton Manor. It seemed he intended to make sure that before she committed herself to him, they were friends in truth. And had already begun the process in her mother’s sitting room.

  He truly was a most admirable gentleman.

  Though her mother’s presence wouldn’t lessen the sensual tension she’d feel every time their fingers brushed, or her thigh rubbed against his in the jolting coach... All too aware of the potent physical connection simmering between them, she considered whether she’d been too hasty in giving him permission to see any lady he liked after their marriage.

  But he didn’t belong to her and never would. Not in the way Will had.

  For an instant, she recalled the look on Will’s face when he declared his love, devotion shining in his eyes, an ardency of his expression. As if she were the sun around which his earth moved, the most brilliant star in his heaven.

  ‘I won’t let you ruin yourself by running away with me,’ he’d told her. ‘This new position will allow me to accumulate the wealth, power and status to make me worthy of your hand.’

  She bit down hard on her lip to stave off a wave of desolation. Ben Tawny would never look at her the way Will had, never think of her as more than a wife forced on him by honour and necessity.

  She owed him her gratitude and support, but when tempted to cease resisting his dangerous appeal, she must always remember that fact.

  After their arrival, they would formalise their bargain, exchange vows and she would be free to go her own way. She could endure a few days of Tawny’s too-appealing company in a too-narrow space to accomplish that laudable goal.

  She came back to herself to find him still studying her, his gaze concerned.

  Summoning up another smile, she said, ‘I’ve finished my tea. Once you have yours, I’ll be ready to depart as soon as Mama’s trunks are packed.’

  And she would be ready—in every way, she told herself firmly.

  * * *

  A few days later, the coach turned into the narrow lane leading to Queen Street. Having discovered on the first day that the close confines of the coach kept her forever on edge, bedevilled by a nerve-shredding awareness of Tawny’s presence, Alyssa had elected to ride for the rest of the journey. Although Tawny had accompanied her one day, being on horseback made it possible to limit conversation and keep her distance, which did much to stave off both panic—and temptation.

  Unfortunately, it also allowed her many hours alone in which to think through all the implications of the bargain they’d struck. By now, she was having increasing doubts about whether that bargain would work.

  A few minutes later, the coach drew to a halt before the town house. Tawny handed them down and ushered them into the front parlour, where he introduced his small staff, informing them he intended to continue on to sojourn with his friends, Lord and Lady Lyndlington. ‘They are out of town at present, but due back soon.’

  ‘Will Lady Lyndlington not think it an imposition to return and find a guest?’ Alyssa asked, not wishing to create still more problems for Tawny. ‘Don’t let us force you out of your own house! We could be quite comfortable at a hotel, couldn’t we, Mama?’

  ‘I much prefer having you here, where my own staff can look out for you,’ Ben said before her mother could reply. ‘As for the Lyndlingtons, since our political discussions frequently last into the wee hours, I spend the night there almost as often as I do here.’

  ‘With so few of our own people accompanying us, I would feel more comfortable staying here,’ her mother admitted.

  He wanted them where his staff could look out for them. Alyssa felt a lump in her throat. This latest expression of concern underlined that his consideration for a lady wasn’t a passing whim, but a trait that ran deep in his character.

  ‘You do agree to stay here, don’t you, Lyssa?’ her mother asked with a pleading look.

  ‘Yes, Mama. It’s very kind of you to offer, Ben. I didn’t mean to seem unappreciative. I’m just not used to having a man show much interest in my well-being.’

  As he recalled her ordeal with her father, Tawny’s expression hardened. ‘That’s about to change. I intend to ensure your comfort and well-being from now on. But here I am, prosing away, when you must be longing to rest and wash off the dust of the road. Mrs Ingleton,’ he said, turning to the housekeeper who had been awaiting his orders, ‘show Lady Aldermont to her room, please.’

  Before she could follow her mother, he held up a hand. ‘Lyssa, would you remain for a few minutes? Mrs Ingleton has sent for a maid to assist you until the baggage wagon catches up. May I pour you a glass of wine while we wait for her?’

  At the thought of being alone in the room with him, the warmth of gratitude and relief at ending the journey dissipated as alarm warred with anticipation. Looking with dismay at her mother’s form disappearing down the hallway, Alyssa gave him the only possible answer. ‘Of co
urse, Ben. I’d be delighted.’

  Chapter Nine

  At least she’d agree to remain in his company.

  As the journey progressed, Ben’s initial satisfaction at rescuing Lyssa and his certainty that wedding her was the best option for them both began to waver. The lady who’d once been so passionately approachable seemed to have become more anxious to avoid him with every passing mile.

  Though the physical pull between them remained as strong as ever, she gave unmistakable signs that she didn’t wish to get close enough to be tempted to act upon it. Which was fair enough, given her tortured history with her father; he would need time to earn her trust and convince her that he would never harm her. But if she couldn’t bear being in his company, he would have little chance of doing that—which would leave them both trapped in a union that promised only misery.

  Maybe he shouldn’t have pushed for her to accept his suit at once, waiting instead until she’d had time to recover from her ordeal, he thought as he poured them each a glass of wine. But he hadn’t been able to tolerate the idea of leaving her with her abusive father for even one more night.

  Perhaps, relief at being rescued had led her to commit herself to something that, when she’d had more time to think about it, she no longer felt comfortable doing. But, having given her word, she felt compelled to see it through.

  Before they moved a step closer to the altar, he needed to find out. And regardless of the damage it might do his career, he would release her from her promise, if it did not appear they could co-exist at least in friendship.

  He ignored the protest of a body that was not at all pleased about the notion of settling for a union that promised friendship only.

  He handed her the glass, noting how carefully she avoided letting their fingers touch. ‘What is wrong?’ he asked, studying her. ‘And please don’t tell me there is nothing. The closer we got to London, the quieter and more distant you became. Are you regretting the decision? Do you want to change your mind? I admit, I would be sorely disappointed, but I would never coerce you into marriage.’

 

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