“I don’t know, Grams. Priscilla is a complicated woman. I’d hurt her before, and she doesn’t trust me.” He sighed and looked at the older woman sitting in her wheelchair close to the fireplace. “What are the chances your servants won’t gossip?”
She smirked. “You must be kidding. You know as well as I do how quick they are to spread rumors. Besides, it’s the gentlemanly thing to do.”
He rubbed at his forehead which had started to pound in earnest. “I know, I know.” He took in deep breaths, in attempts to clear his head and think of a better solution. Sadly enough, nothing was coming to mind. “What if I court her first?”
Grandmother arched an eyebrow at him critically. “Gavin Wayne Hamilton! Stop this nonsense now. You are not a simpleton. Unlike your father, you have a backbone and a conscience. You will do the right thing.”
The right thing? Wouldn’t it be the right thing not to make the lady in question hate him? Wouldn’t it be the right thing to give the lady in question the opportunity to decide what she wanted to do?
But Grams was right when she said the servants would gossip. Gavin had been the topic of many rumors over the past few years. Some of the things he’d heard had damaged his heart. He’s just like is father... Gavin didn’t want to be like his father. Ever! And so, he must marry Priscilla, even if it would upset her.
“Fine,” he whispered heavily and met his grandmother’s stare. “I’ll marry Miss Priscilla. But please let me talk to her first. I want her to hear it from me. Then, if she gets upset, you can step in and convince her why this is right.”
His grandmother smiled and nodded. “You have made the right decision.”
“I hope so or my life is going to be miserable for years to come.”
THE NEXT DAY, PRISCILLA’S ankle felt much better. The dowager had her physician take a look at the injury, and he concluded the same thing Priscilla thought. It was a sprain. Thankfully, just as Gavin had suggested, the dowager understood and allowed her to rest her foot. However, Priscilla was tired of being in her room.
She stepped lightly on her ankle as she walked out of her room and down the stairs. Her heart had lightened considerably thanks to her time spent alone, and especially because she hadn’t seen Gavin since they’d left the coach. She had a pleasant visit with the dowager duchess, and Priscilla thanked the stars in the heavens that she hadn’t come across Gavin.
His handsome face hadn’t left her mind, which was frustrating for her, especially after she’d gone to bed last night. All she dreamt about all night was kissing him. And yet, the way her heart now skipped excitedly, made her wonder if that had been a dream after all. It had seemed so real. Even now she could still feel his gentle lips on hers, taunting and reminding her how wonderful it had felt.
Could he have kissed her when they had cuddled on the sofa yesterday? They’d both fallen asleep, but what if he had awakened and taken advantage of her? But for some reason, her heart told her that she had participated and enjoyed every second of his teaching.
She fisted her hands and grumbled. Why couldn’t she just let this go? If they had kissed, she would surely have remembered something that melted her heart and made her breathless. It was not as though she had much kissing experience, either.
Touching her finger to her lips, an image resurfaced. In her memory, he’d had that ridiculous pink and green blanket wrapped around his shoulders. His smoldering gaze had beckoned her. She could see his neck, and wondered what it would feel like to touch it. But to keep herself from caressing his skin, she threaded her fingers through his hair – hair tousled and soft. He’d kissed her so very gently, but soon passion had crept into her body and he’d deepened the kiss. Urgency had swept over her, and she had wanted more. And yet... she was satisfied in knowing that he’d wanted to kiss her and excite her just as much.
Oh, heavens! It felt so real.
The first thing she did was check on the dowager. Her Grace was resting in her room and didn’t want to be disturbed, so the maid told Priscilla. Disappointed, she wandered down the stairs. Reading a good book would be nice, but then she’d only think about that time when she and Gavin were in the dark...
Her heart did a silly flip-flop. No, the library was out of the question.
She stopped at the music room. Playing always calmed her, and the dowager did tell her she could play any time she wanted.
Before she knew it, she was sitting behind the pianoforte and her fingers were stroking the keys in one of her favorite tunes. She closed her eyes, and the face in her mind disturbed her, so she watched her fingers, instead. This particular piece by Mozart made her long for home – the home she used to know as a child, and especially the closeness she’d had with her older sister, Lyndsey. Where had the years gone? Growing up into adult women was hard and sometimes lonely.
When she finished the piece, a tear fell down her cheek. She wiped it away, not realizing she’d been crying.
“What worries you, my dear Cilla?”
Gavin’s voice startled her, but in an odd sense, it also comforted her. He stood just inside the room, leaning against the wall. Concern was apparent in his expression. She refrained from running into his arms, knowing that would just be ridiculous.
“Oh, forgive me for crying.” She laughed uncomfortably, wiping her eyes. “This piece from Mozart reminds me of my childhood, especially my sisters. I miss them so.”
He slowly walked to her and held out his hand. She slipped her palm against his and he helped her stand before leading her to the settee where they both sat. He kept her hand in his, tenderly caressing her fingers.
“Tell me about your sisters.”
Her heart leapt, and she swallowed down the lump of emotion clogging her throat. It was nice to finally be able to talk about her sisters; about the good times and the bad, the way they teased each other when they got into trouble. As they grew older, Lyndsey – being the eldest – seemed more like a mother than a sister. But they were close, and she missed that right now.
Gavin listened intently. He laughed when she talked about her younger sisters’ shenanigans, and then he grew solemn when she told him about her father’s impoverished state. Because her father had only daughters and no sons, the girls had to do the work of servants since their father couldn’t afford to hire help.
When she finally ran out things to say – or was it the intense look in his incredibly green eyes that made her lose her thoughts – she sighed and smiled. “I have talked your ears off.”
He shook his head. “My ears are still attached, I assure you.”
“You have been most kind.”
He sighed and caressed her hand again. “I actually came looking for you before I heard you playing.”
“You did?”
He nodded and chewed lightly on his bottom lip while he gazed at their hands. “I fear I have something to tell you that you may not like.”
Her chest tightened. She didn’t like his tone of voice. “What is it?”
He chuckled lightly, but it wasn’t humorous. Instead, it sounded strained.
“I wish I knew how to tell you.”
Her mind whirled in panic. “Oh, dear. Your grandmother... she’s going to release me from being her companion, isn’t she?” She groaned. “I knew I shouldn’t have rested my foot. I’m stronger than that, I really should have—”
“Cilla,” he said, placing his fingers on her lips to stop her chattering. “It’s not like that. Not really.” He lowered his hand.
His smile was reassuring, but something was still wrong. “Please tell me. I promise to be understanding.”
Several awkward seconds passed as he stared into her eyes. Whatever he was about to tell her was going to hurt her, she could tell.
“Have you ever known a woman who was caught in a scandalous situation with a man, and the man was forced to do the gentlemanly thing by marrying her to help protect her reputation?”
A knot formed in her stomach, tightening quickly. Her eyes burned w
ith unshed tears, but she mustn’t shed them in front of him. His past must have caught up with him and now he was being forced to marry some woman.
Two days ago this wouldn’t have mattered to her, but now... Oh, why did she have to have that dream about kissing him? And why did they have to get trapped in a rainstorm while he’d been trying to help her? But most importantly, why had she allowed her heart to soften toward him?
She took small breaths, trying to control her reactions. He couldn’t know of her feelings. “Your Grace, are you telling me that you are being forced to marry a woman?”
Slowly, he nodded.
The painful heart-wrenching emotion climbing inside of her was getting too strong to tame. If she didn’t leave now, she would cry in front of him. And heaven forbid she blurt out her ridiculous infatuation with him.
She pulled away from him and stood. “I... I wish you the best in your new marriage, Your Grace.”
She spun toward the door, hurrying out as fast as she could, but he grasped her arm, turning her around to face him. Tears blurred her eyes, and she cursed her weak heart.
When he noticed her tears, he sighed and cupped her face. She wasn’t sure why he was smiling, though.
“Cilla, my sweet. You don’t understand. You see—”
Just then, a bell from outside started ringing loudly and people were shouting in panic. Immediately, she smelled smoke. Gavin must have smelled it too, because he rushed toward the window.
High-pitched voices from the hallway echoed through the manor. Fire! The stable is on fire!
SEVEN
Gavin couldn’t remember ever being so panicked before. He rushed outside. Flames and smoke rose high in the sky from the back part of the stable. What is going on? But this was no time to ask questions. He needed to get the horses to safety.
Some of the servants must have had the same idea because, they were bringing out some of the horses. Gavin ran into the smoke-filled barn. He could hear horses still neighing. Using his arm, he covered his nose and mouth and listened for the frightened horses. He opened stalls, and the horses ran out, heading toward the front of the stable. Toward the back of the stable, the smoke was thicker and blacker.
Every minute he was inside, it became harder to breathe. But he wouldn’t leave until he knew the horses were safe. Finally, he stumbled toward the front of the stable, relieved that all the horses were out.
Immediately, he saw Priscilla. She stood in a line with the other servants as they passed the buckets filled with water from the well to the fire. Other servants ran with a bucket in each hand. The water splashing over the sides as they headed for the fire.
Coughing, Gavin tried to gain his breath as he breathed in the fresher air. But he couldn’t stay idle for long. He quickly joined in the group of men who rushed from the stream with buckets full of water to dump it on the burning structure.
How much time it really took to put the fire out, he wasn’t certain, but it felt like hours. Exhaustion had settled in every limb of his body. He sat on the ground and stared at the charred wood at the back of the stable. How could this have happened? Stables didn’t usually burn, especially since his grandmother had responsible servants. None of this made sense.
He’d send for the constable. Perhaps they would be able to figure out how the fire started.
Sighing in defeat, he turned his head and peered toward the others. Priscilla stood out. Her ash-blonde hair hung around her shoulders in disarray, and her gown was as dirty as everyone’s clothing. A small smile tugged on his lips. Although she was probably in pain because of her sprained ankle, she was still willing to help them put out the fire. Indeed, she was one amazing woman.
Slowly, everyone headed back into the house. His grandmother would be very upset and would need to know more details. He wished he had more information to give her.
He trudged back toward the house. The first thing on his agenda would be to send a messenger to the constable. The second thing he’d do would be to get cleaned up. And the third... he needed to finish his conversation with Priscilla.
Another smile pulled on the corners of his weary mouth and his heart softened. She actually thought he was going to marry someone else. Why hadn’t she realized that their being alone together for most of the afternoon was reason enough to cause a scandal? Apparently, her mind didn’t think that way. And of course, she must still not remember that they kissed – passionately.
Should he tell her? As much as he wanted to, he still didn’t think now was a good time to do that. But she must have some feelings for him. Why would she have kissed him the way she had, and then earlier when he was trying – unsuccessfully – to propose and she believed he was going to marry someone else, she actually had tears in her eyes.
He hastened his step toward his bedchambers. He couldn’t get cleaned up quickly enough.
When he made it to his room, his valet already had a bath waiting. Gavin quickly wrote a missive to the constable and gave it to his valet to find someone to deliver it.
Within minutes, Gavin was undressed and bathing. He prayed the servants had prepared Priscilla’s bath, too. He didn’t think he could wait much longer to finish their talk.
An hour later, he paced the floor in the hallway, waiting for Priscilla to come down the grand stairs. In his mind, he prepared himself for what he could say to her that would let her know that she was the woman he needed to marry. He prayed she would understand and accept it well.
“Gavin?” his grandmother’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts and he stopped pacing. She sat in her wheelchair just inside the parlor. He stepped toward her, trying not to let her see his concern. He couldn’t have her worrying, too.
“Tell me about the fire,” she said sternly.
“I wish I knew. I’ve sent a summons for the constable, and I pray he’ll be able to find something. But the servants couldn’t tell me what happened. One minute they were feeding the horses and the next, the back wall was on fire.”
Grandmother blew out a frustrated breath and shook her head. “Something is amiss. I can feel it in my bones.”
“You don’t believe this was accidental?”
“Not at all.”
He folded his arms and nodded. “It does seem that way. All of your servants are devoted to you, and so I don’t think they would do anything to harm you or your property.”
She arched a grey eyebrow. “But Gavin, this is no longer my property. It’s yours.”
His mind jumped back to when he’d had his saddle tampered with. But that wasn’t from this estate. And yet, it had been purposely cut so that he would fall. And now the fire. Was someone doing this to harm him and none other?
The clicking of heels on the stairs, made him swing around toward the sound. When he saw Priscilla, his heartbeat quickened. She wore a lovely peach gown. Her hair still looked damp, but was pulled back away from her face and secured with combs. But it was her frown that tugged on his heartstrings.
She glanced his way before quickly dropping her attention to the floor as she walked closer.
“My dear, sweet Priscilla.” He met her halfway. She was hesitant to look up at him, so he took her hands and caressed her knuckles with his thumbs. “Grandmother,” he said over his shoulder, “you would have been so proud of Priscilla. Although she had a strained foot, she still stood with the others and helped to put out the fire.”
Her cheeks reddened. “You are too kind, Your Grace. I was only doing what anyone would have done in that situation.”
“I did see her,” his grandmother replied. “I sat by the window in my bedroom and watched as the staff put out the fire. And yes, Gavin, I was very proud.”
Priscilla pulled away from Gavin and moved to his grandmother, crouching by her wheelchair. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, dear. I just hope we find out what really happened.”
“As do I.” Gavin stepped closer and touched his grandmother’s shoulder. “Do you need to go lie down?”
“No, I’m fine.”
He looked at Priscilla. “If you don’t mind, Grams, I need to talk to your companion. We were interrupted when the fire broke out.”
Priscilla’s gaze bounced up and met his. Her eyes were wide.
“Actually, Your Grace, I thought we had finished our discussion.”
“No, we didn’t. There is still more I would like to talk to you about.”
Grams motioned toward the parlor. “Why don’t you two use this room? I’ll wheel myself in to the kitchen and see how dinner is coming along.”
“Oh, Your Grace,” Priscilla jumped up and reached for the chair. “I can take you.”
“Nonsense. You and my grandson need to talk. I’m sure you won’t be long.”
Priscilla stood stiffly as she clenched her hands against her middle. Her breathing was deep and slow. Straightening her shoulders, she walked into the parlor. Gavin followed and closed the door.
“I... I thought we had finished our discussion,” she said in a shaky voice.
“I need to explain a few things to you.” He stood in front of her. Because her gaze remained to the floor, he lifted her chin with his fingers until she looked at him. “As I recall, you had just wished me well with my marriage.”
She licked her lips, and once again, her eyes watered. His heart leapt.
“Gavin, please don’t do this. I’d rather not talk about your upcoming nuptials.”
“Cilla, my sweet.” He caressed her cheek. “You misunderstood... Either that or I explained it poorly.”
Her eyebrows creased. “You were in a scandalous situation and being forced to marry?”
He smiled. “That woman is you, Cilla.” He knelt on one knee and took hold of her hands. “Priscilla Benson, will you marry me?”
As he studied her, he noticed a faraway gleam in her eyes just as her face paled and she lost consciousness. He jumped up and caught her before she hit the ground. He lifted her in his arms and carried her back to the settee.
Loving a Rogue (How to Love Book 3) Page 5
