by Matilda Hart
He had known Isabel all his life, and they were friends, but only in a casual sort of way. That he found himself now all but engaged to marry her was a source of acute discomfort to him as well as to her, but they did not see a way out of it. There was no animosity between them, but there was also no spark. She had long ago given up any hope of marriage, and when she had been so grievously ill done by at the hands of a scoundrel who died in the duel he had demanded, Daniel had found himself tied to the woman. He could not have let that jackanapes escape without at least attempting to salvage the lady’s honor, when it was besmeared by the slanders put forth by her erstwhile suitor. He did not regret shooting the man, who had thankfully survived his injuries, but his reward for stepping into the breach was to be saddled with the expectation that he would wed her, an occurrence that he did not want. A fitting prize for such a chivalrous act, some said. His father had stressed that as a man of honor, and a single one in need of a wife, he was almost duty bound to make the sacrifice.
Daniel sighed. He had no interest in marriage, and while he had enjoyed the odd affair, he was not especially interested in having a woman permanently at his side. He found most women rather tiresome, and being surrounded by three of them -- his mother and two younger sisters -- he had long ago decided to forego the dubious joys of prolonged association with them in favor of his hound, his horse, and his good friends. He knew, however, that as the next Duke of Blanchester, he would be expected either to already be married, or to at least be betrothed. Which brought him back to Isabel. He could only hope that his daughters, should he ever have any with her, would benefit from the beauty on his side of the family. Sternly chastising himself for such an uncharitable thought, he looked over at his probable future bride again, and acknowledged that while she was no beauty, she was no troll, either. Her features were merely on the plain side, with the exception of a decidedly sensuous mouth, with its full lips and soft bow.
Unbidden, another woman’s face popped into his mind. It was a younger face than Isabel’s, rounder of cheek, with a dimpled smile and equally luscious mouth that he had wanted perversely to kiss the last time he had seen it. The eyes in it, unlike Isabel’s watery blue, were a steely gray to match the owner’s vivid personality. He let his mind wander for a moment back to the women whose face had intruded upon his thoughts. Their first meeting had been inauspicious, to say the least, and it was clear to him that she did not know, or care, who he was. In fact, if truth be told, she seemed to find him by turns amusing and annoying. The thought made him smile. He had liked her feisty spirit, even if she was a dreamer. And her beauty was of such that it had made his body stir, despite his injuries. Tomorrow would be a week since their chance meeting, and he found himself wishing he could see her again, could talk to her, could laugh with her. She was an enchanting little thing, and would no doubt be vastly entertaining company. He rued the fact that he did not even know her name.
“Daniel, will you not dance with me?”
Ruby, the older of his two sisters, looked coquettishly into his handsome face, and he sighed loudly. His sisters used him, as a hunter used a target, to practice their skills in seduction. He would need to tell Ruby that she would win nothing but a ruined reputation if she batted her eyes like that at the kind of men she seemed to be drawn to. And if she did the same to men of quality, she would be the laughingstock of the men’s clubs. He took her hand and led her to the dance floor, joining in with the other dancers in a reel of great energy that had her panting and laughing when it was over. His sisters might be scatterbrained and frivolous, but they had good hearts, and with their beauty could secure good marriages, if they learned how to attract the right kind of attention from the sort of men whom he was sure their parents wanted them to marry.
The evening’s festivities were winding down, for which Daniel was grateful. He handed Ruby off to the next young man seeking to touch hands, and likely other parts, with her, and stepped out onto the balcony. It was a brilliant evening, with a full moon climbing the sky, illuminating the inky heavens and their sparkling starlight. Daniel inhaled deeply, enjoying the scent of the night blooming flowers on the air. It was peaceful, tranquil, in marked contrast to the restless frenzy of the courting dance indoors, where people sought to find and catch their prey. He stood still, letting the peace wash over him and pool inside him. He wished he could keep this feeling forever, but he knew real life would soon intrude upon his solitude.
“You seek the silence of the night above the sweet voice of your betrothed, my son?”
His mother’s voice brought his head around. Although he loved her well enough, he had no wish to talk with her, as lately all her talk had been of the anticipated nuptials...when he would propose, when they were going to be married, who would be invited, and what ‘poor dear Isabel’ would wear, because she had no mother to assist her. He forced himself to speak civilly to her, nonetheless. This was the best way to avoid a quarrel, and ensure that he had free time to do as he chose.
“It is as sweet a silence, Mother,” he said. “I have not been neglectful of Isabel, have I?”
“I never said that, Daniel, but it is not normal that a young man soon to be betrothed to a worthy woman would seek his own company above hers. Others will remark on this, and we must be careful to give the gossips no cause for comment.”
Daniel heaved a heavy sigh. “I grow weary of living by the will of others, Mother.”
“You have a duty and a name to uphold, Daniel. Your wishes must come second. Duty first, always.” His mother’s voice was soft steel. “Now, come away with me to see our guests off.”
None too soon, the last guest was gone, including his betrothed, whose gloved hand he kissed lightly in farewell. Turning back into the house, he went to his father’s study and shared a last drink with him. Thankfully, the older man had nothing to say on the subject of his duty, either to his family name or to Isabel. Instead they talked of the upcoming hunting party, and of the use he wished to make of a local hunter.
“Henry Tracy is his name, so I’ve been told. Lives in Ashmeade Bottom. I intend to pay him a visit tomorrow.”
“I am sure he will be most happy to accommodate you, Father,” Daniel said. “No doubt your reputation as a fair man has preceded you.”
Any hunter who worked for his father was well remunerated for his trouble, and as they planned to hunt often this season, no doubt Mr. Tracy would come away much heavier in the pocket.
“Perhaps I will ride with you, Father,” he said. “It will be good to see the village and its environs, and I can put Midnight through his paces once again.”
“Should you be doing so so soon after the last ill-fated try?” his father asked.
“Peter has been working with him since the accident,” Daniel said. “He seems to think the stallion has grown more accustomed now to the local wildlife and the countryside. And I take him out every morning so he is also more used to me than he was before. I promise to be more mindful this time.”
Next morning, both men cantered off to Ashmeade Bottom, admiring the beauty of the land, and the unhurried peacefulness of the morning. Daniel had decided, during the night, as he tossed and turned restlessly on his bed, that he would visit the riverbank again in hopes of meeting the beauty who had so enchanted him the week before. His father had no need of his company, and would not question where he was going. For that, at least, he could be grateful. As they approached the spot where Midnight had been spooked by a fox and pitched him into a pile of rocks and rubble, Daniel said,
“I think I’ll take a ride down by the river, Father. It is a fine day, and no doubt the river ride will be magnificent.”
“Come to the inn for lunch when you are through exploring,” his father said indulgently. He knew well that Daniel was a lover of nature, so this was no new thing with him.
Daniel nodded and turned his horse toward the river. Anticipation coursed through his veins like strong ale the closer he got to the spot here he had met the villag
e maiden, and as he approached, he heard her singing. He knew it must be her, and his heart skipped in his chest at the sound of her high sweet voice, singing a bawdy ballad. He chuckled as he approached, and when Midnight reached the spot where he had stopped and looked at her, Daniel pulled him to a halt, watching as she turned to see who was intruding on her while she rested from her work.
This time, she stood up when she saw him, her whole stance one of respect. Ah, what a difference a clean visage and sound clothing made on a man, he thought. He could see that she was not quite sure if she recognized him, and her stance was at once respectful and wary. He broke the silence between them.
“Ah, we meet again, Beauty!” he said walking the big black stallion forward and stopping by an adjacent tree where he could tether him. “Good morrow to you!” Dismounting, he approached the rest of the way on foot and smiled at her.
The surprise in her eyes was belied by her unsmiling mouth. His Beauty was not happy to see him.
“Who are you, sir?” she asked. “I do not know you.”
“Ah, but you do, my pretty. I am the hapless stranger whom you helped a sennight ago in this very spot! An I am happy that we have met again.”
She stared at him, taking in his form from his head to his toes, and no doubt wondering at his transformation from a week ago.
“Are you fully recovered, sir?” she asked, relaxing somewhat.
“Completely, my lady,” he answered. “Everything is in in proper working order.”
“I am pleased to hear it.” She smiled at him, and then cast her eyes upon his horse. “That is a fine mount, sir,” she said. “You have learned to master him I see.”
Daniel laughed aloud. The minx was teasing him, finding her amusement in his spill from the week before. Somehow her temerity only made her the more fascinating to him, and he wanted to know her, to listen to her talk and laugh and tease him. He gave in to the urge he had been resisting to touch her, and pushed a lock of hair back from her face.
“He has been better schooled, yes,” he agreed.
She turned away, a slight blush staining her cheeks. “I must pack my fabric and go, sir,” she said, and walked away to pick up the cloths she had spread out.
Without asking her, he went to help her, watching how she folded them and following suit. Before long, they were done, and she was standing before him once again. He wanted to taste those pink lips, but she was wary of him again, and he knew it would be better if he waited until a third or fourth meeting to steal a kiss. Instead, he offered to accompany her into town, citing his luncheon with his father as his reason for going there.
“You will find the food quite good at The Feathered Nest,” she said, as she allowed him to strap the basket to his horse’s back. “The innkeeper and his wife host the village’s annual Christmas party, and the food is always well received.”
Daniel paused at the end of the trail, and smiled at her. “That is a kind recommendation indeed, Beauty,” he said. “I shall be sure to let the innkeeper know how well you have spoke of his establishment. May I know who to say spoke so glowingly of him?”
“My name is Annabelle,” she told him.
Daniel smiled. “A name that suits you well, beautiful Anna!” he replied, taking her hand in his and kissing it gallantly. “I am Daniel.”
She smiled shyly at him, then, intriguing him even more. “I must hurry, sir...Daniel,” she said. “My mother has need of this fabric.”
He took the basket down and handed it to her. “A good and kind and beautiful Anna, who is also a dutiful daughter,” he said. “We shall meet again, Anna.”
He watched her walk away from him, and felt a lightness in his chest that translated itself into a lightness in his gait as he took himself off to lunch with his sire. He would see her again, and find a way to make more of their meeting than a few words. She was refreshingly different, and her effect on him was startling enough that he wanted to repeat it.
Chapter 3
Rain poured out of the sky in buckets, and streaks of lightning lit up the night as Anna waited in the inn for a lull. She had just delivered the new dress that the innkeeper’s wife, Mrs. Browning, had ordered when the deluge trapped her in the front parlor. She sat quietly with the woman’s youngest child, singing softly to him while his mother finished her chores. Anna loved the little boy, and as she held him, watching him fall asleep in her lap, she thought again of her dreams. Not only did she want a handsome man to sweep her off her feet, but she wanted children of her own to love and care for. Lavender was heavy with her second child, and Anna looked forward to the birth almost as eagerly as her sister did.
Finally, when the rain had ceased and a few stars struggled to push out from behind the lingering clouds, Anna took the sleeping infant and placed him in the cradle his other had put buy the fire. She went in search of the lady, and found her sweeping the kitchen.
“I must be off now, Mrs. Browning,” she said. “Jess is asleep, and likely will not wake.”
“Oh Anna, you are a good girl,” Mrs. Browning said. “Thank you for helping me, or I would not have finished this night.”
“No thanks are necessary,” Anna said. “I had nowhere to go until the storm passed, and nothing to do till then. But now I must go. Mama and Papa will be worried about me.”
“As well they should be, my dear,” the lady said, putting the broom away and coming to hug Anna. “You are a beautiful young lady, and there are bad men abroad who would use you ill if they should have the chance. I wish that you would wait for my John to return, though,” she added.
“I will be careful,” Anna promised. I know the places where I may not walk after dark, and I will surely avoid them.”
“Well, I will send James with you to the end of the street,” Mrs. Browning said.
She turned and called for her eldest son, a strapping boy of twelve, who happily escorted
Anna from the inn. They walked in silence, until they reached the crossroad and she turned to him with a smile.
“You’ve been a proper escort for me, James. Thank you. I shall have a treat for you next time I visit the inn.”
The boy grinned. “Thank you, Miss Annabelle.”
“Now hurry back to your mother,” she said, and watched him walk away before turning her steps to the road that led to her home.
Although she was not afraid, she knew that she must be on her guard for strangers. Taking the path down the center of the street, where the moonlight was brightest, she made her way along, thinking how lovely it would be to have a man who loved her by her side, who was hers alone, who would take her arm and lead her safely to their home. She sighed...she despaired of it ever happening, and worried that instead, she would be stuck marrying the butcher’s son, that oaf.
As if she had conjured him out of the very air, the oaf in question rounded a corner just then and spied her. He sauntered over, a salacious grin on his boorish face.
“Miss Annabelle, you are late abroad,” he observed. “Shall I walk you the rest of the way home?”
“No, thank you Clancy. It is but a short way to my house, and my father will be looking out for me.”
She kept her voice even, though her heart shook with trepidation. She could smell the alcohol on his breath, and she did not think she would be able to so easily escape an inebriated man if he grew violent. And Clancy was known for being a violent drunkard. Another reason that she had no wish to be tied to him. She stepped away from him when he reached for her arm.
“Do you think yourself too good for me?” he growled, grabbing her roughly. “I have seen the way you walk by me, and pretend you do not see me. Who are you, to spurn my attentions?”
Anna struggled to free her arm from his brutish grasp, and cried out when he tightened his hold.
“Answer me! Do you think yourself above me?”
The street was quiet. Everyone was indoors after the storm, and Anna knew that she would need to cry out lustily if she were to be saved from the intent t
hat she saw in Clancy’s eyes as she glared at her.
“I think that you should let me go before my father sees you, Clancy,” she said, even though she knew she was still too far away for her sire to see what was going on. “If you do not let me go this instant, I will scream, and when they come to see what it is all about, I shall tell them that you tried to compromise me!”
Instead of loosening his grip, Clancy grabbed her other arm, and pushed himself flush against her front. His smile was mean and cruel.
“You know what they say, don’t you, Miss Annabelle? Might as well be hanged for a sheep as lamb.”
His voice was hoarse with lust as he stared down at her in her plain brown dress that nevertheless that showed off her bosom to perfection. Anna opened her mouth to scream when she heard the clip clop of horse’s hooves cantering their way. Clancy tried to drag her into the shadows, but she resisted, digging her feet into the muddy street, and he raised a hand as though to hit her when he was shoved off his feet into the mud by the unknown horseman, who swooped her up at the same time and rode off, leaving a cursing Clancy behind. She looked up to see who her rescuer was, hoping it was not some random stranger who might be a worse danger to her than Clancy had been.
