To Walk in the Sun (Wiggons' School for Elegant Young Ladies - Book 1)

by Charles, Jane

  “I want you.” His face no longer held humor but reflected his intent to get what he wanted. His dark eyes bore into hers with an intensity that scared her. She turned away.

  “That is a base desire that anyone can fill.”

  “I desire you.” He reached out and clasped her elbow.

  Tess pulled her arm away and moved to stand by the fireplace. “Again, it is fleeting and will pass.” Atwood had not given her one good reason to enter into marriage. Yes, her heart lurched at the possibility. He was handsome, kind, for the most part, and caring. Those were not the reasons to marry either.

  She would probably hate herself in the future for saying no, but she just could not marry a man that did not love her. Even if he claimed that to be the reason, she could not trust his words. Percer had said the same thing to her and all he wanted was her piece of the map. Look at how well that turned out.

  No, despite wanting to be with Atwood, and wanting to be his wife, her answer would be no. She just needed to make him understand that. Tess was beginning to believe Vincent had never been denied anything in his life. This may be the first time he does not get what he wants.

  “How long have we known each other?” she asked.

  “It seems like forever,” he answered.

  Tess rolled her eyes. “Less than a week.”

  “As I said, it seems much longer.” He grinned.

  Tess stood fast in her determination to make him see reason. “How long did you know your first wife?” she countered

  The smile fell from his face. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  She crossed her arms across her chest once again and tapped her toe. “Answer me.”

  Vincent shrugged. “At least a year, perhaps more.”

  “Exactly!” Tess threw up her hands in validation.

  “What is that supposed to mean?” Vincent countered with irritation.

  “At least you gave yourself a chance to get to know her, to fall in love. This proposal is for you, because you need to protect, you need a secretary, and you want someone to soothe your brow when the headaches get too bad. It has nothing to do with me.”

  “That is not true,” he argued.

  Tess marched to the door and threw it open. “Then I suggest you come up with a more reasonable explanation if you wish me to be your wife because your current explanations have no merit.” She stalked out the door.

  “Tess, wait,” he called after her.

  She ignored him and continued up the stairs, down the hall and into her room where she slammed the door behind her.

  * * *

  Vincent was shocked the moment the words left his mouth. Whatever possessed him to ask Tess to be his wife? Yet, once the impact wore off, he knew it was the right decision. But, how did he make her understand?

  He fell into the leather chair beside the fireplace. His reasoning was sound, so why had she objected? She needed someone to protect her. In truth, Tess was alone in the world. A lady should never be alone, it was far too dangerous.

  However, his other reasons were selfish. He had to admit. Still, it would not be a bad arrangement for her. He was an earl, after all. There were very few ranks above him and most ladies would be thrilled with the title of Countess.

  Not Tess.

  Frustrated, he stood and made his way to the side board and poured a glass of whiskey. Not his usual choice, but Wesley had chosen well and Vincent enjoyed the taste at times like these, when he was utterly and completely frustrated.

  How do I convince her? He walked to the window and looked out. He could declare undying love, but she would not believe him. Besides, he wasn’t so sure he did love her. Want her, yes. Desire her, definitely. Want to claim her has his own? Beyond a doubt!

  So, what was he to do?

  He knew he could make her happy. Tess would want for nothing, including his attention and affection. Women of the ton often went without both, once the vows were repeated. He was not like the rest of society and intended on making sure she was a part of his life every single day and night. But would those reasons be enough?

  No, Tess would want more than his affection. She deserved more. But how could he promise a deep love? He had only known her a few days.

  Frustrated he turned from the window. She was right. He was insane for considering the idea. Yet, regardless, he knew, deep down, that he wanted to marry her.

  Veronica would know what to say or do. He threw his head back and shook it. If Veronica were here, he would not be considering marrying Tess. Still, she would have the answers and help him see the situation with a clear head, as she always had in the past.

  For a moment Vincent considered going to the cemetery to visit her grave. Perhaps there he could find some clarity. But, there was no longer any reason to.

  He placed his empty glass on the desk and exited the library. He knew exactly where he needed to be.

  * * *

  “I know it was her,” Eliza insisted as she crawled into bed.

  “It could have been anything,” Sophia argued as she pulled her nightgown over her head.

  “What could possibly make a sound that loud?” Eliza countered.

  Sophia shrugged and buttoned her gown. “Perhaps it was a mouse?”

  Eliza arched her brows at the unbelievable statement. “Rats?”

  Rosemary jumped up on the bed. “Don’t even mention such horrible creatures.”

  “Not even a large rat, from the worst part of London, could make that loud of a sound,” Eliza insisted.

  “Regardless, I am sure it was not Lady Atwood,” Sophia argued as she crawled into bed with the other two. She reached over to turn the lamp down.

  “Leave it,” Rosemary insisted and snuggled down between the two of them. By the time she was settled you could only see a bit of her chestnut hair.

  Sophia sighed and turned on her side so that the light was not in her eyes and tried to sleep.

  “I’ve got it,” Eliza announced and sat up in bed, startling the two girls.

  “You’ve thought of something more plausible than a vampire?” Sophia asked in a dry tone.

  “Don’t be silly, it was her, but I refuse to argue about it further,” she dismissed.

  “Then what do you have?” Rosemary asked from beneath the covers.

  “Tomorrow night is All Hallows Eve.”

  “Oh, no.” Sophia flopped on her back.

  “Do you remember what I read to you?” Eliza’s tone grew excited.

  “You want to find her and put her in a wicker basket?” Rosemary peeked out and asked.

  “No, that would be too dangerous,” Eliza insisted. “But, we can lead her from the house. Dress up like a ghost, just like the pagans did, and she will follow us away. Then we will lose her in the forest.”

  Sophia gave her a pointed look. “I note, they were pagans.”

  “So,” Eliza countered.

  “Never mind,” Sophia sighed and pulled the blanket up over her head. She was exhausted. She was worried about her father, about Miss Crawford and that man who wanted to harm them. She really did not have the energy for such nonsense tonight.

  * * *

  Tess tried to sleep, but all she did was toss and turn. It was madness, pure madness. Why did he have to change their professional relationship by offering marriage? Cruel, that is what it was.

  For the longest time she dreamed of being married, to a wonderful man, running his household and giving him children. That was impossible now. Not only was she considered on the shelf, but there was no way even Vincent could protect her.

  She flopped on her back and stared at the ceiling. What would it be like to be married to him?

  Her body warmed at the thought. She would finally learn what occurred between a husband and a wife and somehow she thought the act would not be unpleasant with Vincent. Not that she had anything to go on, other than his kisses. But, if kisses were any indication, he would certainly be better at that than Percer, who always left her, well, u
ninspired, for lack of a better word.

  Should she take him up on his offer?

  No. She rolled over and punched her pillow. Vincent did not love her and maybe never would. The man had been deeply in love with his wife. One cannot simply decide to love another. Besides, he had already lost one wife and it stood to reason he would lose her too. But this time to the gallows. It would be unfair to him, even if she was able to experience a bit of comfort and security for a short time.

  With new resolve to avoid him when possible, or maintain a strictly professional relationship while in his presence, Tess snuggled down beneath the blankets and willed herself to sleep.

  Five minutes later her eyes popped open again. With a frustrated sigh she rose from the bed. She had been looking forward to a peaceful slumber, through the night, and he had ruined it for her with his ridiculous proposal.

  She pulled her robe tight around her body to ward off the damp chill of the room and moved to stir the fire and add another log. The flames burned brighter and cast a glow about the room. It was rather eerie, the way her shadow stretched along the way. She shook her head as she walked toward the window.

  When will Percer contact me?

  As if in answer to her silent thought, a light moved in the woods beyond the yard.

  He was back.

  Tess bit her bottom lip to try and determine what she should do. Give him the wrong piece of the map or stay here and pretend she could not see him.

  The light moved to the edge of the forest and he stepped out. Percer looked up and stared directly at her.

  She had no choice now. He knew she had seen him and it was better to get it over with.

  Tess turned from the window and grabbed her cloak. Without bothering with stockings, she slipped on her shoes and picked up the forged piece of paper. She could only hope he believed it was real, and wouldn’t have her arrested the moment it was in his possession. Or worse kill her.

  The thought sent a chill down her spine. If only she had her father’s gun. But it was buried somewhere in the remains of her room, if that room still existed. However, she would not meet him without some type of weapon. She looked around her room. There was nothing of use in here, except for a letter opener. Tess slid it into her sleeve. While it offered some comfort, she knew it would be useless against him. No, she needed something better, more threatening.

  Tess glanced at the door connecting her room to Atwood’s. She had not heard him retire and if he remained in the same habit, it would be hours before he came to bed. She walked quietly across the room and cracked the door open. No sound came from inside. She opened the door further and stuck her head in. The chamber was empty and she entered.

  The fire still burned bright enough to light the room and she went about rummaging through this desk, closet and dresser drawers. There was nothing here that could help her.

  She didn’t risk going to Vincent’s library, where he probably kept his gun. Undoubtedly he was still there. Not only did she not want to face him yet, she didn’t want him questioning her because he would never give her a gun without an explanation. She couldn’t embroil Vincent any further into her troubles and he would insist on accompanying her when she met with Percer.

  No, it was best that she did this on her own and disappear tonight, if she wasn’t killed first.

  * * *

  Vincent lifted a candle from the sconce and preceded down to the basement. “Darling?” he called softly.

  There was no response. He continued into the wine cellar. She usually lay on the chaise, waiting for him, but it was empty. “Where are you? Why do you hide?”

  The scratching came from the closed door across the room. Vincent grinned. He walked forward, then reached out and turned the handle. “Are you in here?”

  She brushed his sleeve and Vincent glanced over. “Ah, there you are. You gave the girls quite a fright today.” He stroked the soft hair on her head. “They are lucky you didn’t bite one of them. I know how much you dislike strangers.”

  She leaned closer from her spot on the stool, brushing against his chest.

  “I am sorry for being neglectful.”

  Her green eyes looked up at him, always forgiving, and he picked her up and carried her from the dark storage room.

  The present was all desolation and dread;

  the future presented the image of a horrible deed

  which he must perforce commit; while the past

  was empoisoned by the memory of his guilt.

  Wake Not the Dead

  Johann Ludwig Tieck

  Chapter 22

  Tess made her way to the woods and hoped the girls were asleep in their room for a change. Half way across the lawn she had second thoughts. This was foolish. She should have alerted Vincent. But she didn’t know how Percer would react to seeing his former friend. What if Percer had a gun and shot Vincent? At least she knew she would remain alive. Well at least until he had the piece of the map. She could not guarantee the same for Atwood.

  She said a quick prayer and stepped onto the wooded path. Clouds moved over the moon, leaving no light to illuminate her way. A chill went down her spine. Not only did the wind pick up and whip the dying leaves from the branches but she knew he was in here, somewhere. Her hands shook and she shoved them into her pockets. I will not let him see my fear. I will not let him see my fear.

  “Theresa, it is so nice to see you again, and so soon.”

  His voice, thick with charm, came from her right and she turned. Percer stepped out of the shadows. She wished she could see him better. Did he carry a gun? Was it pointed at her now?

  She backed away. He followed.

  “Do you have what I need?”

  For a moment she considered lying to him. She was not ready to die. Especially for an imaginary treasure.

  “I was not aware of the intimacy you and Atwood shared until I saw it with my own eyes.”

  Heat scorched her face. So he had been watching them that night.

  “You never so much as warmed to my kiss, yet you allowed him to seduce you.”

  Tess refrained from responding and continued to back away. The only thoughts on the tip of her tongue were insulting and she had no desire to invite his anger at the moment.

  “It used to be I could have any woman I wished and Atwood was often left alone.” Percer stalked toward her. “Then again, you have always been different.”

  Tess made sure she remained out of arms reach.

  “Or, did you think to use your body to get the piece of the map? I suppose the loss of one’s virtue is minor when compared to the gallows.”

  She continued until she stepped into the clearing. The clouds moved on, but Percer remained in the shadow of the trees.

  “Stop. Don’t go any further.”

  Tess took another step back.

  The sound of a gun being cocked splintered the silence of the night. She froze. Surely he would not shoot her now. Not this close to the house where anyone could hear. She continued to walk backwards.

  “I mean it, Theresa. I will not hesitate to kill you. I’ll be gone before anyone gets out here to help you.”

  She wasn’t willing to call his bluff and ceased moving. “I am going to walk over to that seating area.” She pointed to a set of stone benches set beside a small statue. “I will leave the map piece there.” Her heart pounded with enough force to beat right out of her chest.

  “Why don’t you just hand it to me?” His voice was as smooth as silk. “Do you not trust me? I would never truly harm you, Theresa. Remember, we were to be married once.”

  A short, nervous laugh burst out and she covered her mouth. He stepped out of the woods. His face hardened in anger.

  “It was all a lie. Had we married, I am sure you would have found a way to kill me as soon as you had what you wanted.”

  He had the audacity to shrug and her anger grew. “Perhaps in time, after I tired of you. A wife does serve a purpose.” He grinned and focused on her breasts. “They a
re as lovely as I imagined. I wonder if Atwood appreciated them as much as I would.”

  Bile rose in her throat with the thought of sharing a bed with that man. She had to erase the image of what he insinuated or she would vomit.

  “Hand me the piece of paper,” he demanded.

  “No. I will place it on the bench and go back to the house.”

  Percer walked parallel to her as Tess approached the seating area. She needed to deposit the map piece and retreat before he could grab her. There was no guarantee he would not shoot her once it was out of her hands, but she had no other choice. She bent down and placed the piece of paper on the bench. Her eyes focused on Percer. She put a small stone on the corner of the parchment.

  He continued to approach. Tess straightened and moved back.

  The wind gusted and ripped the document from beneath the rock. It flew through the air. Tess turned and sprinted back to the house. Percer shouted curses and ran for the map, ignoring her. She made it to the safety of the library, slammed the door and locked it behind her.

  Percer chased along the tree line after the piece of paper. He caught it only when it became wedged against the tree. He bent to pick it up and a cat lurched at him from the branch above. It clawed his face and bit is ear before Percer threw it off and bounded into the woods, the paper clutched in his hand.

  * * *

  “For an intelligent teacher, you are one of the most idiotic women I have ever met.”

  Tess whipped around and stared at him. “How long have you been there?”

  Vincent pulled away from where he leaned against a table. He had a very good view of what occurred outside from where he had stood. His blood ran cold when he came up from the cellar and saw Tess with Percer on the back lawn. The man had a gun pointed at her the entire time. Vincent had pulled his own gun from his desk drawer and waited. As long as Tess remained in control of the situation, which she did as long as she held onto the map piece he knew he could remain hidden. However, his own gun had remained ready and aimed at Percer the entire time.