by Grace Walton
“But…but,” the woman sputtered. “You can’t do this to me.”
“Watch me,” he urged as he jerked open the door of the limousine.
He gave her a meaningful shove towards the car’s interior. She landed softly on the plush seat. Her shocked and widened eyes sought out his.
“Hollister,” she began to argue. It did her no good.
“Go home, Fiona. Mend fences with your father. And if that is impossible, cast around for another titled man to wed.”
“I can’t” she wailed in despair. “Daddy said only you would do.”
“What about that puppy you had trailing after you in Montana? He had the look of titled money.”
“Harlow?” she asked aghast.
“If that’s his name.”
“Harlow Fleming is a commoner,” she said in horror. “He’s little more than a servant.”
“Maybe he’d be good for you.” Hollister smirked. It was cruel to find any humor in her situation. But he did.
“Are you out of your mind?” her voice rose at least another decibel. “Daddy would never, never allow it.”
“Fiona, this is not the Middle Ages. A woman has the right, no the obligation, to decide her own fate. If you find Fleming good enough to sleep with, he most likely is good enough for you to marry. Your father will only be angry with you for a year or two. If you love Fleming, marry him.”
“I don’t love Harlow,” she said though her tone was not convincing.
“You don’t love me either. You never did.”
“That’s not entirely true.”
“Yes, it is. You cared no more for me than I cared for you. We had a convenient arrangement.”
“Arrangement,” she gasped. “We were lovers.”
“No, we were never lovers. We were two people who enjoyed each other’s bodies.”
“It was nothing so crude as you are implying,” Lady Fiona said with a dismissive sniff.
“Fiona, we used each other,” the man said.
“You may have been using me, but I was never, never using you. I loved you, Hollister. Truly I did. I love you still.”
He looked up at the heavens and rolled his eyes at her blatant lie. “You love my title. You love my bank account. But you don’t love me. I don’t believe you’re capable of loving anyone.”
“Please, please, I beg of you. Don’t send me away like this.” Her lovely, wide-spaced eyes pleaded with him.
“Then have some backbone and leave on your own accord.”
“Fine,” she snapped. It seemed the lady had finally realized all her begging would accomplish nothing. “I’ll go. And I’ll make sure Daddy knows just how horrid you’ve been to me. You can’t say I haven’t warned you. I told you when I was at that godforsaken ranch that he’d already threatened to ruin you and your precious sister, if you refused to marry me. Whatever happens now is you own fault.”
“Fiona, I’m not afraid of your father.”
“You should be,” she whined. “He’ll stop at nothing, you know.”
“Tell him I’ll be waiting for him.” Hollister turned to leave but was stopped by her pettish voice.
“Send Harlow out to me. He’s inside having tea with your sister.”
Hollister’s glare was dangerous as he gave her his full attention. “What’s he doing in there with Mercedes?”
“Having tea,” Fiona bleated. It was far from the only thing she’d instructed Fleming to do when he had the Earl of Hollister’s sister all alone. But it would serve as an answer, for now.
“If he’s harmed her,” the man began.
“They’re having tea. The worst he could do is throw a cucumber sandwich at your little sister. I don’t know what’s gotten into you. You’ve turned into the most brutal and crude barbarian. But what can one expect?” she asked the rhetorical question before cutting her eyes at him in disdain. “You’ve spent so much time with those uncouth Americans; you’ve become one of them.”
Hollister refused to rise to the bait. He rolled his broad shoulders to ease the tension in them and set out towards the house. He would not let a snobbish little pea goose of a female cause him to lose his temper. It didn’t matter that he’d just as soon curse Fiona. It didn’t matter that his baby sister was inside the family pile probably fending off unwanted advances from that moron Fleming. And it didn’t matter that now he’d made new enemies, including the rich and ruthless Sir Jasper Cooper. Nothing mattered but settling things with Merry and getting back to London as quickly as possible. No, not getting back to London, getting back to Maggie. Tonight he would start convincing her that she belonged to and with him. Everything he must deal with to get to that desired result was only a nuisance. Regrettable and irritating, it was true, but not impeding. There was nothing that could stop him from his single-minded pursuit of Magnolia Ferguson.
He pounded up the stone stairs without looking back at the fuming woman in the luxury car. He did not flinch when she ordered the driver to sound the horn in a shrill staccato voice. He merely nodded to the family retainer who opened the massive doors before he could reach to shove them out of the way. Once in the old-fashioned antechamber, Hollister heard the laughter from above stairs. He wasted no time running up the impressive winding staircase whose twin anchored the other side of the wide receiving room.
At the top of the stairs, he instinctively turned towards the little parlor the family always used. They kept most of the huge home closed and shuttered. The priceless antiques were all draped in sheeting. The only rooms in regular use were Mercedes’s bedroom, the kitchen, and the family parlor.
“No don’t,” his sister chortled with laughter.
Hollister was surprised to see true amusement on her face. He was glad of it. Poor Mercedes had little cause for laughter and happiness during the past few years. The man she’d loved had played her for a fool and then left her when he’d learned she wasn’t the heiress he’d thought her to be. Her organic farm business had been plagued by many setbacks. And this past spring she’d agreed to sponsor an African refuge family from the Sudan. The parents had promptly disappeared leaving her to mother their baby.
The pretty black child sat upon his sister’s lap giggling and cooing at the man making silly faces at her.
“Hollister!” Mercedes exclaimed joyously.
She struggled to stand with the little girl in her arms. Fleming plucked the baby from her hands and jostled the child up and down in a jolly British fashion. Hollister’s sister flew into his waiting arms.
“Are you alright?” he whispered so that only she could hear.
Mercedes looked up at him in shock. “Of course I am,” she exclaimed. She captured his hand and led him into the cheerful room. “This is Harlow Fleming. He’s a friend of Lady Fiona.”
“Yes, I’ve met Mr. Fleming,” Hollister said his voice rife with unspoken censure.
“It’s good to you again, Milord,” the younger man said with an uncomplicated smile.
Hollister thought he was either being sincere or he was a very fine actor. When the baby clutched at his nose and made Fleming laugh the honest merriment gave credence to the sincerity.
“Lady Cooper is waiting for you in the car,” he said.
“Is she?” Fleming seemed confused. “I thought we were all taking tea together.”
“No, I think not. She’s in a bit of a hurry to get back to London,” Hollister explained.
Fleming nodded, though he did look stunned at this sudden turn of events. He strolled towards Mercedes and shifted the baby into her arms. “I’ll give you back this charming poppet and be on my way then, shall I?”
“It was awfully nice spending the afternoon with you, Harlow,” Mercedes said smiling at the handsome young man.
His grin spread over his face. “I feel the same way. The company today was excellent. Would you care to have dinner with me one night soon in London?”
Mercedes seemed to be pondering his offer when Hollister spoke up. “Mercedes’s goin
g to be busy with the baby and her business for the next few weeks.”
The girl turned to argue but seeing the serious intent in her brother’s eye, she quickly agreed. “It’s true. I’ve got so much on my plate at the moment. I’ve got to settle little Aja into some kind of routine. And planting season is upon me.”
“Some other time then?” the man murmured as he left to follow the servant waiting by the door. “Maybe, I’ll ring you up in a couple of months. Things should be more settled in your life by the, shouldn’t they?” he asked hopefully.
“Of course,” Mercedes nodded. “By mid-winter I’ll welcome the respite of a night on the town.
“It’s a date then?”
“It’s a date,” she said as she smiled. “Dickon will see you out.” She indicated the waiting butler.
The man handed Fleming his hat. “This way, if you please, sir,” he directed.
Fleming nodded politely to both Mercedes and her brother before taking his leave. When they were alone, save for the baby, she immediately questioned his behavior.
“Why can I not go out to dinner with Harlow Fleming?” she asked. “He’s a fun and kindly man.”
“He’s also on Fiona’s very short leash.”
“What?”
“According to Lady Cooper, he’s belongs to her.”
“They’re dating?”
“Either that, or she’d hiring him.”
“He’s not a gigolo,” Mercedes said stanchly in the man’s defense.
“And you know this because you spent one short afternoon in his company?”
“Stop being so cynical, J,” she countered. “I know Harlow is not one of Fiona’s men. He’s too nice.”
“I was one of her men, once upon a time,” her brother said acerbically.
“See, you make my point exactly. No one in his right mind would ever call you nice. Dangerous, yes. But nice? Never.”
“I think I’m offended,” he joked.
“You shouldn’t be. Most women want a man who’s just a little bit dangerous.”
“Even you,” he asked quietly. He alone knew how destroyed his sister had been when that patent-leather tin soldier she’d been in love with dumped her. He was still hoping to make things right for Mercedes. It was amazing what a few well-timed words and a hard, cold look could establish. Especially when the man in question was nothing but a coward.
“No, I see what you mean. To tell you the truth, I’m much more comfortable with a kind and funny chap like Harlow. He means nothing serious. He just wants to flirt and make silly jokes. That’s more my style these days.”
“I see no reason you can’t enjoy dinner with Fleming provided you remember he’s Fiona’s lackey. Be careful what you tell him. She’s not very happy with me at the moment. She’s making some threats.”
“Against you?” Mercedes asked in shock.
Her brother shrugged and nodded. There was no need for his sister to know more. Why cause her needless anxiety? Because there was no way he’d ever let the Coopers do anything to harm her. He reached for the baby. “Introduce me to this pretty little thing,” he said changing the uncomfortable topic. He would not have his sister bothered by Fiona or her scheming father.
“This is Aja,” Mercedes said with a maternal smile.
Hollister noticed how the baby’s eyes shined at the mention of her name. She was a petite infant with wide expressive eyes and a head full of soft, wiry curls.
“She’s going to be a heartbreaker, one of these days,” he said softly as he jogged the baby up and down in his arms. “Is she legally yours?”
Mercedes shook her head. “Not really. I’m acting as a foster mother until her parents can be found. But, if that isn’t possible, I’d love to raise her. She’s a perfect little jewel.”
Do you want me to find her parents?” he asked in a nonchalant way. It was as if he had no qualms about doing what the authorities seemed to consider impossible.
“There’s a task force looking for them,” his sister answered with a tilt of her dark head. “But they seem to have vanished. I’m afraid there may be more to their disappearance than meets the eye.”
“My offer stands,” he said. “Sometimes I can use unorthodox methods to find people.”
Mercedes sighed. “J, I don’t want you involved.”
“Why?”
“Because, I don’t want you to get hurt again.”
“I’m fine.”
“That’s what you always say. But you and I both know every mission you take could be your last. I don’t know how you handle the stress.”
“Merry, you’re making too much out of a few scratches. Everyone dies sometime.”
His face hardened as he thought about all he now had to live for. Risking his life hadn’t been much of a sacrifice in the past. Because his life had always been bleak, monotonous, and utterly worthless. But now… well, now he had everything to live for. And that everything was named Magnolia Ferguson.
“Maybe I could just ask a few questions,” he allowed.
“Fine, but no cloak and dagger stuff. I don’t want to lose my only brother.” She reached out for the baby.
“That will never happen,” he said.
“Can you stay for dinner?” she asked.
Hollister shook his head. “No, I wish I could. I’ve got an appointment in the city.”
“A date?”
He raised one expressive eyebrow. His sister had the grace to blush.
“I imagine you’re thinking that what you do and with whom is none of my business,” she mumbled. “I’m sorry.”
“I wasn’t thinking that at all,” he allowed. “I’m taking a very special woman out to dinner.”
“Very special, huh?” she teased.
He slowly nodded.
“Wow,” she murmured. “You’re serious.”
“I am.”
“I hope she’s good enough for you, Hollister. Because you deserve the very best.”
“She’s better than good,” he said. “She’s perfect.” He leaned down and kissed the top of her head. Without another word he strode off in the direction of his sports car.
Mercedes hugged Aja close. She walked to the window and watched until her brother’s vehicle disappeared down the winding country lane. “Nobody’s perfect, Hollister,” she said softly.
She knew this well. And she prayed her big brother would not lose his heart and be hurt like she’d been.
Hollister’s hands gripped the steering wheel of his car. Navigating the twisting, narrow road required a fair amount of concentration, especially at the speed he was going. But he had no choice. He’d stayed later in the country than he’d planned. London traffic at this time of the day was brutal. If he hoped to return to the city in time to take Maggie to dinner, he’d need to speed. With that in mind, he turned the car’s expensive sound system on and lost himself in the sweeping classical music pouring from the many speakers. The rolling green countryside soon gave way to a more urban landscape. Two hours later, he was stalled in gridlock traffic on the outskirts of London.
He dialed Maggie’s cell phone. After about three rings she answered breathless.
“Hello?”
“It’s me,” he said tersely.
He didn’t like what he was feeling. He was as hesitant and awkward as a sixteen year old asking his first girlfriend out on a date. His scowl deepened. Hollister was never hesitant. Too much depended on his confidant and immediate reaction to any situation. H
“Hollister?” she asked in a wary voice.
“Yes?”
“Are you mad about something?”
He cursed under his breath. Though his ire was not directed at her. No, he was not angry at Maggie. It was the situation. How was he supposed to claim her as his when he was in business with her brother? Gage would kill him first and ask questions later if he knew what Hollister had in mind for his baby sister.
“It’s been a challenging day,” he said by way of an explanation.
<
br /> “Should we call off our dinner plans?”
“Absolutely not,” he was adamant. “I’ve been waiting all day to see you.”
There was silence on the other end of the line. It continued for an uncomfortable amount of time.
“Hollister, I’m not sure this is such a good idea,” she stammered.
“I do.”
“It’s just that, well…”
“Can you trust me, Maggie?”
He heard her breath hitch over the phone. This was the moment. The moment that would seal his fate. The moment that would set the course for the rest of his life. If she refused him now, Hollister was sure his remaining days would be worthless.
“I’m not too good at trusting anybody these days.” It was little more than a hushed whisper.
“I know, Blackbird. But can you just take a chance and trust me? I promise you won’t be sorry.” He knew his voice was hoarse and intense. But that’s how he felt around her. And he wouldn’t disguise his intentions.
“It’s just dinner, right?” she asked tentatively.
“It’s just dinner.”
“OK, I’ll meet you somewhere for a quick bite.”
“I’ll come pick you up,” he said.
“No, just tell me where to meet you. I’ll take the Tube.”
“Maggie,” he said with aching tenderness. “Blackbird, it’s just me. You know me. I’m not some crazed sexual predator or a serial killer. Relax. We’ll have a nice meal and then we’ll walk around the city.”
She went unnaturally quiet once again. He silently cursed his glib remark about sexual predators. He wasn’t usually this stupid, especially around women.
“What I meant to say was,”
“No, no, it’s ok. I know what you meant,” she answered. “Can we go someplace sort of casual? I’ve had a long day myself and I don’t think I’m up to anything fancy.”
“Sure, How about a pub?” He knew one where the music was quiet and the lights were low. It would the perfect place to ease her fears and maybe even get her to tell him what he needed to know.
“A pub sounds great. What time will you pick me up?”
“Maybe an hour?”
“I’ll be ready.”
“See you then,” he said as she hung up the phone. He had an hour to build a strategy on how to get Magnolia Ferguson to fall in love with him.
