by Nikki Poppen
It would seem to be a dream come true except for the look of rage on her face. She stared at him through angry eyes, and Gannon knew what she must be thinking-that he’d misled her that afternoon, that he’d deliberately obscured his identity, and she wouldn’t be far from wrong. He’d had a chance to divulge his purpose in Newport, and he hadn’t. He’d had a chance to give her more than a first name, and he hadn’t. But neither had she. She had never once mentioned a last name he could have given to Stella for vetting. Still, he was willing to overlook such omissions. Apparently, she was not. While he was pleasantly surprised by the turn of events, she was outright horrified.
“So, it’s you, is it?” she said coldly. Then she hastily added, to cover the implication of having met him before, “You’re the one everyone’s been talking about”
Unbelievable! It was worse than her conjectures. Gannon Maddox wasn’t just associated with the earl, he was the earl. Audrey silently scolded herself while her mother made gushing small talk with the handsome earl to cover her daughter’s cold response to the evening’s premier guest.
She should have known better. How was it that she’d overlooked the obvious that day on the beach? His answers had been as vague as he’d been well dressed. She should have seen immediately that he’d deliberately been obfuscating the truth. Englishmen with indeterminate goals simply did not vacation in Newport, and this one had been invited. No one got into Newport without an entree.
Even if he hadn’t let fall his invitation, it should have been enough to note the excellent cut of his clothes and his clipped accent, reminiscent of the upper-class aristos who’d so recently become interested in wealthy American brides.
The clues had all been there regardless of his attempts to downplay them. Audrey had simply chosen to ignore them. It was rather surprising, and none too pleasing, to discover how easy it had been to trade in her common sense over a handsome face. But seeing him tonight, dressed exquisitely in evening clothes that defined his physique to perfection, the lapse was entirely understandable.
He was by far the handsomest man in the room. His attractiveness came from more than his good looks. The raven-dark hair, the smoothness of his chiseled jaw and straight nose, the piercing green eyes the color of moss were all features she’d noted before.
She had not noted the regal tenor of his bearing, the breadth of his shoulders, the narrow waist, and the strong legs. People, both men and women, wanted to look at him, wanted to be in his circle. He was charismatic in the extreme. Everywhere he went, his mere bearing commanded attention. It was positively riveting to watch him converse with her mother, who was enrapt beyond all else over his description of his stables.
Apparently, it was too riveting. An embarrassed silence fell on their little group, and Audrey realized she’d been caught in the act of staring.
“Miss St. Clair, do I have something on my face?” Gannon-no, not Gannon, the earl-inquired, one hand searching his cheek to flick off whatever had attached itself there.
“Ah, no, not at all. Your face is fine, quite fine,” Audrey said, flustered for a moment. Her mother gave her a raised-eyebrow look of scolding incredulity that said she could not believe the dearth of manners Audrey was displaying.
The earl smiled and smoothly continued with the discussion of his prized hunter, a roan stallion by the name of Brutus.
Fortunately, it was time to go into the supper room, and Audrey was saved from the opportunity to commit any more gaffes. To her mother’s everlasting delight, the earl turned to Audrey. “Would you do me the pleasure of joining me for supper?”
It was all the invitation Violet needed. Whether the earl intended the offer just to Audrey or if he’d expected the entire family to join them, she’d never know. The moment the invitation was issued, Violet St. Clair accepted with alacrity and her usual smoothness, so that it appeared the earl had meant to ask them all.
“I’ll arrange for the table by the windows. You’ll enjoy the view,” Violet said, gracefully moving into action to make the necessary arrangements for a table of six as Lionel Carrington joined the group and shook hands with Audrey’s father.
Audrey did not doubt they’d be the center of attention. Everyone would be curious to see who the earl was dining with. Gannon offered her his arm and smiled. It was on the tip of her tongue to apologize for her mother’s maneuverings, as subtle as they were, but she was not at all sure he saw the need for an apology. Perhaps he expected such attentions. Perhaps he even liked them. After all, she didn’t know that much about him. She hadn’t even known he was an earl. And she certainly didn’t know if she could trust him. So far, she’d been lucky. He hadn’t made any reference to a prior acquaintance. She had to speak with him to ensure that it stayed that way.
She motioned to Gannon to let the others go ahead of them into the supper room and indicated they should step off to the side. Gannon acquiesced with a smile, no doubt guessing her obvious reason for wanting a moment alone. Audrey didn’t care how obvious her intentions were. She’d never dealt well in subtleties. That was her mother’s department.
“So we meet again, Miss Sinclair, although I’d much rather call you Audrey as I did on the beach,” Gannon said easily, slouching against a richly carved pillar, a lazy grin on his face. He instantly looked more like the man from the beach than the earl he’d been moments ago. It was a very dangerous transformation. She didn’t need to recall how amiable, personable, he could be.
“So we do, Gannon, or should I call you Camberly or milord?” Audrey queried sharply, trying to take the measure of this enigmatic man.
“Gannon is what I’d prefer, with you at least,” he said, holding her eyes with an even gaze that threatened to unnerve her. A hidden smile played at his firm mouth. How dare he find any of this funny!
“I need to ask you for a favor.” Audrey paused here, disliking the idea of needing a concession from a man she knew so little about.
“Anything,” Gannon said. “Rock-skipping lessons, perhaps?” he joked lightly.
Audrey shook her head. “What I ask for is a little enough thing, but it is not a joking matter, at least not to these people.” She gave a vague wave to include the crowd going into supper.
Gannon sobered. “I am sorry. I did not mean to make light of it. Ask me for anything.”
“I need to have your word that you will not mention our encounter on the beach” Audrey searched his face for signs of his comprehension, signs that suggested he knew how important his compliance was on this matter.
“You have my word, Audrey.”
“Miss St. Clair,” she corrected sharply.
At her sharp burst of propriety, he gave his smile full rein. “Miss St. Clair, then” He made a small nod of acquiescence. “Rest assured, I’ll say nothing on the subject”
Audrey breathed a little sigh of relief. “Thank you” She turned to go into supper, but Gannon’s hand stayed her, warm and strong on her arm.
“Wait, Miss Audrey St. Clair. Now you have to do something for me”
She should have known nothing was given freely, not even one’s word. Audrey was immediately alert, conspicuously conscious of the earl. Her senses were aware of the clean scent of sandalwood soap, the starched linen of his evening clothes, and of much else. Beneath the finery of a gentleman, she was keenly aware of the raw, unbridled maleness of him.
She wondered what price the earl would extract for keeping their secret. A stolen kiss, perhaps? Audrey felt her pulse speed at the thought of the earl’s firm mouth on hers. The image was oddly appealing, sending a warm thrill shooting to her belly.
Gannon laughed at the look on her face, thankfully misunderstanding the reason for it. “Don’t worry. What I ask for is a little thing.” He borrowed her words. “I want a waltz with you tonight.”
Most of dinner was spent on the usual questions. Which part of England did he come from? What kind of home did he have? And that was where the conversation stayed for a very long time. Gannon Maddox was
clearly devoted to his home and to the two younger siblings in his care. Audrey could see that her parents were impressed with his descriptions of his home and countryside. Her father was intrigued with the level of Gannon’s knowledge on farming and agricultural advancements.
But where they saw an interesting Englishman, she saw red flags. If Gannon Maddox loved his estate so much, worried over his summer crops endlessly, and missed his family, why was he here instead of there?
Audrey thought the answer was fairly straightforward. He was heiresshunting in spite of his lack of mentioning it on the beach. Her original anger flared again, and conspiracies began to form in her mind. Had he known who she was beforehand? Had he gone down to the beach on purpose to corner her? Had he hoped to compromise her? Did he still mean to, regardless of the promise he’d made her? Worse, did she mind as much as she should?
Common sense told her she should mind very much. Audrey knew her mother. If Gannon so much as mentioned their encounter to her parents, they’d be married before either one of them could blink, and while that might suit Gannon’s purposes, it did not suit hers. If he needed a fortune, compromising her would be the shortest distance to the goal.
The thought brought on a renewed sense of panic, her thoughts coming full circle. How could she have been so foolish as to entertain his company that afternoon when she was so close to achieving her dream of Vienna? She could stand to lose it all.
The room pressed around her, hot and loud with a thousand conversations. The excellent lobster stuck in her throat. She rose hastily, thinking only that she had to get out of the room. “Please, excuse me. I need some air.” She was clumsy in her efforts to extricate herself from the closely spaced tables and chairs. Her elegant Worth train got in her way, and she stumbled. Tears burned her eyes.
“Please, let me assist you,” a quiet voice said by her side, a strong hand cupping her elbow. It was Gannon, and at the moment, she had no choice but to rely on him to steer her through the room. “Just walk with me, a few more steps, now a few more,” he coached close to her ear, his voice pleasantly comforting. Within moments he had them outside and found them a bench in the coolness of the night air.
“Are you all right, Audrey?” he asked, paying no attention to her earlier request to call her Miss St. Clair. He pressed a handkerchief into her hand. “You’re shaking. Are you cold?”
His evening jacket was off before she could answer, neatly draped around her shoulders.
She breathed deeply. The garment smelled of him, the sandalwood she’d noted earlier. She took another breath, feeling the air start to calm her. “I’m sorry to be a bother. I just felt sick for a moment. I am better now, thank you.”
There was some truth in that, but she couldn’t bring herself to tell him he’d been the reason for her upset. She wouldn’t feel entirely well until he went away for good. As long as he was here in Newport, she was in danger. Too bad. He was quite charming, and she’d have liked to spend time in his company if the situation was different.
“Please, it is not necessary that you stay. You may go back to your dinner,” Audrey urged. If he was out here too long, her mother would be quietly reserving Grace Church for the fall.
Gannon peered at her in the darkness. “I find I am not convinced that you’re feeling better, and I fear I may be the cause of your upset. Have I done something to bother you?”
“Done something?” Audrey’s frustration broke, finally able to be directed at someone, something. “You didn’t tell me who you were on the beach”
“I told you my name. I did not lie to you”
“You did not tell me you were an earl!” Audrey replied, her voice low and strident in her accusation.
Gannon’s voice remained unsatisfactorily even and logical. “You did not tell me you were an heiress-‘the richest girl in the room,’ according to my sources tonight. You can imagine my surprise.”
“That’s different,” Audrey huffed, although for the life of her she couldn’t figure out why at the moment. “One does not talk about money in polite conversation.”
“What would you have had me do, Audrey? Introduce myself as a titled Englishman after you’d espoused such a distaste for them? I, for one, was having too good a time to ruin it.”
That brought her up short and effectively quelled her brewing tirade. The truth was, she’d been having fun too. She’d liked talking to the Englishman on the beach, so much so that she’d been willing to overlook the obvious about his presence in Newport. It wasn’t fair to blame him entirely. “I think I liked it better when we were just Gannon and Audrey,” she sighed, “instead of the heiress and the earl.”
Gannon laughed in the darkness, a rich, mellow, comforting sound. “Perhaps we can work on that.”
He was so unfailingly polite, so unswervingly sincere, that Audrey found herself dissembling in a most unladylike fashion. “Oh, no, you don’t know my mother. You have to go back in right now for your own good. The longer you’re out here with me, the more my parents will get their hopes up” She could hear the panic return to her voice. One would think she was on a run for her life, from the fear her voice emanated.
“Hopes about what?” Gannon asked.
“Don’t be obtuse,” Audrey scolded, hardly believing the man could be so dense. “What do you think parents get their hopes up for when their daughter goes outside with a handsome earl?”
“Ah. We’re speaking of matrimonial hopes, I take it?” Gannon paused. “You don’t want to marry me?” Light teasing colored his words.
“I hardly know you.” Audrey was in no mood for banter in spite of Gannon’s efforts to the contrary. She couldn’t let him through her defenses so easily, even though she was tempted. For all her reservations, she was undeniably drawn to the Englishman.
“But you said I was handsome,” he pressed.
That got a laugh from her. “Well, everyone says so. The girls have talked of nothing else tonight but your divine good looks.”
“So is it me you’re opposed to, or just marriage in general?” Gannon asked once the laughter between them faded.
“You mustn’t take it personally,” Audrey supplied quickly, not wanting to hurt his feelings. He’d been quite nice, and he deserved better from her. “I simply don’t wish to be married”
“Especially to an Englishman,” Gannon filled in. “I recall your specific points on the subject. I have an excellent memory, along with my posture”
Audrey blushed in the darkness, remembering her harsh words about drafty houses, empty pockets, and slouching physiques. “You must pardon my bluntness on the subject. In no way did I mean to impugn your Camberly Hall or your visit.”
Awkward silence sprang up. “You’re not the one who needs pardoning,” Gannon said after a while. “That day on the beach, you were honest, while I was not. You have confided a bit in me, and now I find that I must confide a bit in you. You were right a moment ago when you said I wasn’t entirely truthful with you. I am here heiresshunting. I mean to find a rich wife so that I can save Camberly and my family.”
It was just as she’d thought. But hearing the words didn’t make Audrey feel triumphant. There was no glory in being right. She hadn’t wanted him to be an heiresshunter any more than he apparently wanted to be one. Instead of wanting to recoil in disgust, Audrey felt the sorrow that was so evident in his voice.
Instinctively, she reached for his hand where it lay on his thigh. She squeezed it gently. “I am sorry to hear that. You must love Camberly very much.”
“With all my being,” he said simply.
She nodded. She knew what that felt like. She loved the piano the same way, as if the instrument itself was her heart, but that was not a secret she could tell yet.
“You don’t want to marry an heiress?” she ventured.
Gannon shook his head. “Will you keep my secret if I tell you? I want to marry someone who recommends herself to me beyond her bank account. Money is only money, as necessary as it is.”
<
br /> Audrey crossed her arms and sat back against the bench, irrationally liking the earl more and more as their conversation progressed. “It seems we are not such dissimilar creatures, Gannon Maddox. Neither of us is in a hurry to marry, but both of us are being forced to it by circumstances not of our making.”
Gannon leaned back to join her, turning his head to the side so she could see the mischief playing in his mossy eyes. “What do you propose we do about that?”
Audrey smiled back, feeling better than she had all night. “I’ll let you know. I am working on a plan that will see you rich and unshackled at summer’s end”
“And what about you?” Gannon asked. “What do you get for all your machinations?”
“The only thing I’ve ever really wanted.” Audrey stood up and shook out her skirts, carefully looping the long train about her wrist. “Now, come inside and dance with me, so everyone knows all is well.”
Once inside, Gannon led her to the dance floor and fitted his strong hand against her back, moving them into the waltz with ease. “Tell me, Audrey,” he asked, turning them at the top of the ballroom, “what is the only thing you’ve ever really wanted?”
She laughed up at him. “Why, my freedom, of course”
Gannon watched the ocean rolling, blue and endless, from the wide bank of windows of the well-appointed sitting room the Carringtons had given him to use as an office of sorts during his stay. A half smile played at his lips as he reread the simple note that had arrived for him that morning-all two sentences of it-written in her forthright manner.
Audrey St. Clair had a plan. She would discuss it with him at the polo match later that afternoon.
Her letter was the best piece of correspondence he’d received. A plan that salvaged Camberly without requiring his matrimonial sacrifice would be ideal. But patently unlikely. It was fantastical to think that a twenty-year-old woman would have the answers he’d spent years looking for. Furthermore, he had no business trusting someone he hardly knew with such an important situation. He preferred the word important to dire, which was, unfortunately, just as accurate.
