Just One Kiss

by Dayna Quince

  Garrett felt caged in by his thoughts. He left his study and quit the house for a long ride on his horse. Perhaps fresh air would bring some inspiration for how to fix the situation.

  When Hazel left her room again, it was the next morning. Garrett hadn’t come to her that night. It had been a blessing and a curse. She’d wanted him and yet she didn’t. She hated what was happening between them, yet she wanted to address it, voice her fears and needs, but then she would second guess herself, and all she wanted was just to be held by him and not think of it anymore. Sleep had been broken and filled with anxious dreams. She now searched for him, wanting to reconcile in whatever way they could so her bed would not be so lonely. She may not have a solution to their predicament, but she knew the answer would not be found by distancing herself from him. She cared too much for him, needed too much from him.

  She walked the halls slowly until she came to the dining room. She heard voices, one very distinct voice, and her feet turned into granite blocks. She set her hand to the wall to steady herself. It was Mrs. Danford’s voice.

  “Have you no heart, Bain?”

  Hazel heard his rumbled reply but not the actual words.

  “I’ve given my life to preserving the sanctity of the Bainbridge name and strived to teach you the same reverence.”

  “I’ve found a wife. I’ve done my duty,” he said loudly.

  Hazel stumbled back. She could no longer hear past the loud drum of her own pulse in her ears. She pivoted and swiftly retreated back to the stairs.

  In the dining room, Garrett frowned at his aunt. “The Bainbridge name is only that, a name, a title. This is our life, our family. Why can’t we seek peace together?”

  “I am your blood, and you carried on during my convalescence as if I didn’t exist. Has she poisoned you against me? Led you astray from your duties?”

  “The happiness of my wife is my duty.” Garrett shook his head. They had been talking in circles from the moment he found his aunt here having breakfast, looking as if she’d never been ill at all.

  “She never once came to tend me. I relied on my maid for everything.”

  “I know. I spoke with Hazel. She knows you don’t like her.”

  “I’ve done nothing to convey such a thing.”

  Garrett doubted that and it was the first time he ever doubted the word of his aunt. Looking at her now, he was seeing a different woman than he used to.

  “Bain, I’d hate to think I’ve failed your father in raising you to uphold his legacy. It was all that he stood for. I simply cannot let her—”

  “Stop.” Garrett put his hand up. “It’s just a title, Aunt. I remember my father, and he was no more attached to it than I am. It is not who I am. It is not what matters most in life. What matters are the people we choose to love, to share our lives with. The title will live on, regardless of what I do with it, but I will not.

  Her lip curled. “She has changed you.”

  He sighed. “I can only hope so.” He’d lost any appetite he had after this strange argument with his aunt. His stomach roiled with uncertainty and regret. “If you will excuse me.” He stood and left the dining room. He needed to absorb these new observations about his aunt and then find a way to make amends with Hazel.

  Chapter 13

  Hazel was determined to not be found for the rest of the day, which turned out to be unnecessary because Garrett was called away and wouldn’t return until after supper. She hid in her room, writing letters to Anabelle that she then crumpled and threw to the floor. She felt humiliated and duped. She wed a man thinking they had some unnamable connection that would eventually lead to a deep and passionate love, but now… she felt stupid and naïve.

  How had she been so wrong? From the moment she first met him, something had triggered inside her. At first, she was scared of it, but the more she saw him, even if they rarely spoke, the feeling grew into excitement. When she received his marriage proposal, she had exploded with joy mixed with a bit of trepidation. He’d seemed so sure, so confident, and she had been drawn to that. Just one kiss he had said as if it was all he had needed to know she was the one for him. How silly it all sounded now.

  She entered the kitchen to meet with the housekeeper and go over the menu for the day. She found Mrs. Beasley in her office.

  “I’d like to go over tonight’s menu if you have a spare moment, Mrs. Beasley.” Hazel was determined to continue as she had been the last two days, taking over the duties that belonged only to the countess.

  “Oh, I beg your pardon, ma’am. Mrs. Danford has already chosen the menu.”

  “When?” Hazel asked with a frown.

  “This morning, ma’am, before the rooster even crowed.”

  “How productive for one so ill only just yesterday,” Hazel murmured. She pasted on a smile for Mrs. Beasley. “Very well, then. I’ll leave you to it.” Hazel turned away and retreated away from the busy kitchen and eyes of the staff. She could feel her temper rising and with it an angry flush climbing her throat. Her thoughts raced as she found herself walking towards the drawing room. She was sure that was precisely where she would find that awful woman. She didn’t know what she was doing or what she would say, but she’d reached her breaking point.

  All reason and calm evaporated from her. They were going to have it out once and for all. Hazel would put her foot down and it would echo throughout the house until everyone, especially Mrs. Danford, understood she was the countess, she was the mistress of the house. This was her home, even if it was an unhappy one.

  She entered the drawing room, her ears buzzing with her fury and saw Mrs. Danford sitting as she usually did, tending her needlework.

  “Mrs. Danford, you look well,” Hazel began. She felt like she was vibrating with the will of her restraint. She didn’t want to come in screaming like a harridan, although that’s what she felt like doing, she wanted to have some dignity.

  “Lady Hazel.” Mrs. Danford barely acknowledged her.

  “How do you feel today?”

  Mrs. Danford shrugged. “It’s hardly your concern.”

  Hazel watched Mrs. Danford carefully. She was looking for something—anything to signify Mrs. Danford’s current mood. Hazel sat on the sofa across from her. Mrs. Danford ignored her.

  “We need to put this to rest, Mrs. Danford. Enough is enough.”

  Mrs. Danford looked up in surprise. She was frowning. “Whatever do you mean?”

  “What-what do I mean?” Hazel shook her head. She took a moment to rein in her temper. She exhaled slowly. “I should be the one discussing the menu with Mrs. Beasley. The running of the household is a duty that belongs to me now.” There. That was one point of contention out in the open. Hazel waited for a response.

  “If that is what you wish.” Mrs. Danford shrugged and looked back at her needlework.

  Hazel’s jaw almost hit the floor. She pulled herself together. This had to be some sort of manipulation.

  “Good, I’m glad we see eye to eye. Now, I want to put to rest the insinuation of my pregnancy. It is entirely inappropriate for you to suggest to anyone in any way, shape, or form that I am expecting. That is my news to share and no one’s business unless I wish to share it.”

  Mrs. Danford looked up again, but this time her face held a harder edge to it.

  Hazel continued on. “I will care for myself as I see fit. There will be no special food regimens or restrictions. I will go where I please when I please. I think it’s time you find a home of your own. I know Garrett will be generous and find you a quaint cottage all your own. You can see to your own wants and desires now. We will see each other at family gatherings.” Hazel hated uttering that last part, but she had to make concessions for what Garrett would want.

  Mrs. Danford sat as still as a statue. Only her lips moved. Her eyes bored into Hazel’s without blinking. “So that’s it then? I’m to be tossed out with the filthy bathwater?”

  “Heavens no. You will be cared for handsomely under Garrett’s discreti
on. A home, staff, a life of your own.”

  “That boy is my life,” she said sharply.

  Hazel blinked in astonishment. “He isn’t a boy. He is a man. A married man with a wife of his own. I am that wife and that makes me the countess, and I will fill that role in every way I am meant to. You speak of duty so fervently, but don’t allow me to do mine.”

  Mrs. Danford broke eye contact and set her needlework aside. Her entire demeanor changed. She smiled coolly and folded her hands in her lap. “I’m glad you have taken it upon yourself to put things to air, Lady Hazel. Perhaps frank honesty was what was needed between us.”

  Hazel nodded. “Yes, it’s long overdue I should think.”

  Mrs. Danford cocked her head to the side. “In a manner of speaking, I was the countess before you came along. I set the standard and you must meet it. You may be his wife in the physical sense of the word, but I have filled the role emotionally for years now, and I refuse to step aside.”

  Hazel couldn’t form a word to save her life. She was frozen, her mouth hanging open like a dead fish with an expression of what could only be construed as horror. She shook herself free of her paralysis, shuddered as she closed her eyes, wrangling her brain to form a sensible thought.

  “Mrs. Danford, you cannot actually believe you filled the role of wife to your own nephew, that is—”

  “Precisely what I mean, Lady Hazel. I’ve given you every opportunity to prove you were capable of filling my shoes, and you have been found unworthy. In mine and my nephew’s eyes, you are nothing short of a breeding mare to his stallion.”

  Hazel’s hand covered her mouth. She gagged with disgust. The woman was mad. She had to leave. She had to find Garrett and speak to him immediately. He didn’t think as his aunt did, he couldn’t. Not after all they shared. Hazel turned and ran from the room. She couldn’t look at that woman for one more second. She took the stairs two at a time, her breath sawing through her lungs and tears burning down her cheeks. She reached her room, the countess’s suite of which she was undeserving.

  Mr. Holston was there. He jerked as if startled by her sudden appearance, clutching his chest. “Beg pardon, my lady.”

  Hazel stared. He was hanging curtains, curtains of pink velvet with bunches of pink flowers. She took a moment to steady her voice.

  “Mr. Holston, I do believe I selected the canary yellow velvet.”

  Mr. Holston blanched. “Yes. However, Mrs. Danford insisted on the pink floral. She said it was more suited for a countess.”

  Hazel, already three shades redder than her normal skin tone, felt as though her face was on fire. Angry tears pricked her eyes. “But I am the countess and I chose the canary yellow.” Her voice rose. “I am the countess! Aren’t I?”

  Mr. Holston stood quietly. His expression both dumbfounded and pitying.

  “Please leave, Mr. Holston.”

  He bowed and scurried from the room. Hazel rang for her maid. She could feel the sobs bubbling up within her. She swallowed the urge to vomit, and instead, threw herself into motion. She pulled a valise from her wardrobe and began stuffing it with undergarments.

  Mary entered. “Ma’am?”

  “We’re leaving, Mary. I can’t stand to be here another moment.” She could feel her maid’s silence.

  “… but, Lord Bainbridge truly cares for you. I know he does—”

  “He doesn’t. If he did, he would see how his aunt treats me. I won’t take it anymore.” Hazel stiffened. She felt she was losing all control and she hated it.

  Mary placed a hand on her arm. “If you’re sure?”

  “I am. I’m going home. He doesn’t need two countesses.”

  Mary left her to pull the trunks from under her bed. Hazel sat at her writing desk with shaking hands, pulled a piece of paper from the drawer and dipped the quill in ink.

  Her hand hesitated, a drop of ink ruining the flawless paper.

  * * *

  Garrett,

  I’m sorry. I wish everything could be different. I wish we could be ourselves. I wish you could have protected me. I have too much pride to be second in your home and heart.

  Hazel

  * * *

  She brushed away a tear before it too marked the paper. She folded it in half and stood. She walked slowly toward the bed where they shared their first night as a married couple, where Hazel was now sure she lost her heart. She set the note on the pillow and turned to Mary.

  “That’s enough. I will send for the rest of my things later.”

  Mary nodded and closed the trunk.

  “Please, have a carriage summoned immediately,” Hazel said as she went to stand by the window. Garrett wouldn’t be back until dinner. That gave her a three-hour head start. Would he come after her? She hoped the answer would be yes, but only if he was going to defend her against his aunt. She would not return if that vile woman were still here. If only he had listened to her before, it wouldn’t have come to this.

  There would be talk. Hazel had few allies in the staff and it would only be a matter of time before Mrs. Danford was aware of her departure. Would she try to stop her or happily let her go? Just then, she heard her door open. She spun around just in time to see her door closing again.

  “Mary?”

  She heard the click of the lock from the outside. Her heart jumped to her throat as she ran toward the door. The key was gone from the handle. She tried to turn it, but it was no use. She was locked in. She pounded her fist on the door. “You cannot do this.”

  There was no answer.

  She ran to the adjoining door, it too was locked. She pulled the bell cord. Surely Mary could help her. Mary would soon return when Hazel didn’t appear for the carriage. Hazel waited and waited. Her panic ebbed to furry as the minutes passed and it became obvious that Mary was not—could not come.

  “Bloody hell,” Hazel muttered. She would not be held captive. Who did this witch think she was dealing with? She hit the door again with a satisfying thud. Her hand hurt, but it felt good. “You can’t imprison me here. I will break down this door, so help me.”

  Still no answer.

  Hazel sat on the bed and looked around the room for inspiration. She looked at the mantel clock and an hour had already passed. She caught sight of the heavy oriental vase by the wardrobe. It was tall enough to reach her waist and hopefully heavy enough to break the door down if she could lift it. She tried with a grunt to lift it with no success. At most, she could shimmy it toward the door.

  “Blast!” she cursed. Inspiration struck again when she glanced at the fireplace. She strolled over and picked up the poker. The heavy iron felt good in her hands. It would not topple the door, but it could break the handle. She walked to the door, eyeing the brass knob with menace.

  “You won’t keep me here.” She swung the poker, missing the handle altogether. Cursing, she took a deep breath and tried again. She kept her eye on the knob, watching herself in the reflection of the brass as she raised her arms and brought the poker down fiercely. The poker vibrated in her hands as metal met metal. The sound was jarring. She raised her arms again, bringing the poker down with a force born of fury. The knob broke from its seat against the door but still mostly held on. One more strike would do it.

  Chapter 14

  Hazel?”

  She froze, arms raised. “Garrett?”

  “What in God’s name is going on?”

  Before she could answer, she heard muffled voices on the other side.

  “I’ve been locked in against my will.” Hazel hurried to say. “They won’t let me leave.”

  The knob jiggled from the other side and Hazel heard Garrett curse.

  “Stand away from the door,” he yelled.

  Hazel moved back to the fireplace. “All right.”

  With one kick, the door flew open, the knob clattering to the floor in its final defeat. Garrett entered in long strides, closely followed by his aunt.

  Hazel still held the poker.

  “What is the meanin
g of all this?” He looked between the two of them.

  “She was out of her mind, Bain. She was going to leave you in a fit of hysterics. I only meant to protect you by keeping her here. She would have brought scandal down upon us,” Mrs. Danford said shrilly.

  Hazel, staring at Garrett with painful longing, tore her gaze away from him to Mrs. Danford. Her fist tightened around the poker.

  “Is this true, Hazel?” he asked her.

  His eyes met hers, and she was overwhelmed with emotion. She wanted him so badly. But she wouldn’t have him, not like this. “Yes and no. She,” Hazel gestured with the poker, “made it clear that I would always be second place, and I cannot live like that. I won’t. She locked me in here. How she knew I was leaving, I have no idea. Where is my maid?” Hazel asked with alarm. After all this time, where was Mary? She turned back to Garrett. “I tried to tell you how she makes me feel. How she has her servants watch me. I can’t live like this, Garrett. I want—I deserve so much more than this.”

  Garrett swallowed, his throat working with difficulty. He didn’t know what to believe. He knew Hazel and his aunt were not rubbing along well, but this… this was insanity. If his valet hadn’t come to find him meeting with the magistrate and alerted him, Hazel would have been gone. He stepped towards her, and then remembered the audience. He turned to face his aunt and the cluster of servants by the door.

  “I want everyone to leave.”

  “Bain, I implore you to see the madness of her ways. I will deal with her.”

  “Get out,” he growled.

  She stepped back as if struck then her face crinkled into a vicious scowl aimed at Hazel. She turned on her heel and stalked out. Garrett watched in dismay. It was like a curtain was lifting, and the woman behind it wasn’t someone he knew at all. He looked around the room, at the unserviceable door, the open trunk of clothing by the bed, and finally at Hazel.