Captain Amberton's Inherited Bride

by Jenni Fletcher

  ‘Doesn’t she get a say in the matter?’

  ‘Apparently neither of us does.’

  ‘What if Harper lives another twenty years? He looks like he’ll go on for ever.’

  ‘There’s probably a clause to cover that, too. No doubt Father expects me to produce an heir and I don’t suppose he’ll be willing to wait that long.’

  ‘Then maybe there’s a way out after all.’ Lance lifted an eyebrow as Harper let go of her arm, passing her across to their father as if at some kind of prearranged signal. ‘You just have to keep the old ghoul alive.’

  ‘It’s still morbid.’

  ‘What else do you expect from those two?’

  Arthur shook his head contemptuously. ‘You know Father’s only throwing this ball to impress him. He just assumes I’ll go along with their scheme. He treats me like a dog sometimes.’

  ‘Then bite back.’ Lance found his gaze drawn inexorably back towards her. ‘Do you really think he’s kept her locked up her whole life? There is a kind of fairy-tale quality about her. Just look at that hair...’

  ‘It’s white.’

  ‘It’s silver.’

  ‘If she’s old enough to be engaged, then she ought to be wearing it up.’

  ‘Maybe he won’t let her. In any case, here they come. Prepare to be charming.’

  ‘I don’t want to be—’

  Arthur fell silent as their father appeared at his shoulder, Miss Harper’s elbow grasped firmly in one hand.

  ‘Father.’ Lance smiled innocently as Arthur made a stiff bow. ‘Won’t you introduce us to your charming companion?’

  ‘I was just about to.’ Their father regarded him suspiciously for a moment. ‘Miss Harper, these are my sons, the Honourable Arthur Amberton and...’ there was a brief, but noticeable pause ‘...Captain Lancelot Amberton.’

  ‘The not-quite-so-Honourable.’

  Lance flashed his most charming smile and reached for her hand, brushing his lips along the delicate line of her knuckles. Up close, her eyes were an iridescent shade of blue, he noticed, lighter in the middle and darker towards the edges, surrounded by a thick black line that served to make them look even bigger.

  ‘Charmed to meet you, Miss Harper.’

  ‘Oh...thank you.’ She dropped into a wavering curtsy, darting a quick glance across the room to where her father stood watching.

  ‘Miss Harper...’ his own father shot him a warning look ‘...is here to accompany Arthur into supper.’

  ‘I am?’ She looked up quickly, her voice slightly breathless-sounding, as if she were surprised to find herself the subject of so much attention.

  ‘Yes, my dear. Your father’s given his permission.’

  ‘He has?’ This time she sounded positively shocked.

  ‘I’m afraid that’s impossible, sir.’ Arthur spoke up at last. ‘I’ve already promised to escort Miss Webster into supper. My apologies, Miss Harper.’

  ‘Then you must un-promise Miss Webster.’ A look of surprise crossed their father’s features. ‘I’ve agreed that you’ll escort Miss Harper.’

  ‘Then perhaps you ought to have informed me of your wishes earlier, Father. Or at least asked. I’ve no wish to be ungallant.’

  ‘This is ungallant!’

  ‘Perhaps I might escort Miss Harper into supper?’ Lance interrupted smoothly. ‘Keep her in the family, so to speak?’

  ‘You can stay out of it!’ Their father’s face was starting to take on a familiar puce colour.

  ‘As you wish. I was only trying to help.’

  ‘We all know very well how you help, sir!’

  Their father gave a sudden jolt, as if he’d just realised what he’d said and who was listening, though he seemed unable to think of a way to remedy the situation, his jaw quivering with a combination of frustrated rage and embarrassment.

  ‘In any case, my offer stands, Miss Harper.’ Lance broke the ensuing awkward silence, regarding his father with amusement. ‘Though I might not be able to offer such scintillating conversation as my brother here. As you can tell, you’d be in danger of him talking your ear off.’

  ‘Arthur.’ Their father’s tone was threatening. ‘A word.’

  Lance gave his brother a supportive look as the two men stepped to one side, leaving him alone with his distinctly embarrassed-looking companion. At least her cheeks had some colour now, he thought sardonically, having turned a vibrant shade of luminous pink, as if she were even more mortified by their situation than his father.

  ‘I didn’t mean to cause any trouble.’ Her voice was so quiet he found himself leaning forward to catch it.

  ‘And you haven’t.’ He took a step to one side, attempting to block her view of his father and brother arguing. ‘We aren’t happy in our family unless we’re butting heads.’

  ‘Your brother doesn’t look very happy.’ Her tiny brow wrinkled as she peered around him. ‘He looks very unhappy.’

  Lance twisted his head with a frown. That was true. As much as he hated to admit it, Arthur did look unhappy. His shoulders were slumped forward as if he were wearing some kind of heavy garment that he couldn’t shrug off or put down. Not that there was anything that he could do about that—nothing except tell him to stand up to their father and he did that often enough—but Miss Harper was more observant than he’d expected. If he wasn’t careful, she’d force him to be serious.

  ‘If he’s made a promise to Miss Webster, then he ought to take her in to supper.’ She looked back at him, wide-eyed. ‘I don’t understand why your father’s being so insistent.’

  He shrugged in what he hoped was a convincingly offhand manner. ‘Our fathers are old friends. I suppose they want the two of you to get to know each other.’

  ‘But not you?’

  ‘No.’ He couldn’t repress a smile. ‘I’m afraid my reputation precedes me.’

  ‘Reputation for what?’

  He opened his mouth and then closed it again, fighting the impulse to laugh. He wasn’t often rendered speechless, but in this case he had no idea how to answer. Was she really so innocent that she didn’t know what he meant? He was tempted to tell her, even more so to show her, but he could already sense her father’s disapproving stare from the other side of the ballroom. It wouldn’t be long before the old man made his way round to interrupt them and he felt reluctant to let her go quite so soon.

  ‘Shall we have a dance before supper?’ He extended one arm with a flourish.

  ‘Dance?’ She looked as if he’d just suggested something indecent. ‘Oh, no, I couldn’t.’

  ‘Why not?’ He made a pretence of looking around. ‘This is a ball, if I’m not mistaken.’

  ‘I’m just not very good. That is, I’ve had lessons, but only with women and never in public. I really don’t think that I could.’

  ‘You mean you’ve never danced with a man before?’

  ‘No. My father says—’

  ‘But this is perfect! You have to start some time.’

  He grabbed hold of her hand impetuously, ignoring her father’s furious glare as he pulled her on to the floor. The idea of being her first anything was strangely appealing, even if it was only a dance, and there was no harm in getting to know his potential sister-in-law. It wasn’t as if he was flirting with her, no more than came naturally anyway, and it wasn’t like Arthur would care—or even notice. Judging by the heated discussion taking place on the edge of the dance floor, his brother had chosen the most public of venues to finally make a stand. It didn’t look as if that was going to end any time soon. In which case, the longer he distracted the subject of that discussion, the better. It was almost selfless of him really...

  ‘No!’ She dug her heels in and tore her hand away abruptly.

  ‘Miss Harper?’

  He swung round in surprise. She looked defiant all of a sudden, like a
cat arching her back, flashing her eyes and hissing at him. The effect was as impressive as it was disarming, and he felt a dawning sense of respect. Apparently she wasn’t as obedient as he’d assumed, wouldn’t be charmed or cajoled or bullied on to the dance floor. There were claws behind that small, soft-looking facade. Damned if that didn’t make her even more attractive!

  ‘I apologise for my forthrightness, Miss Harper.’ He bowed in an attempt to look suitably chastised. ‘I can only blame overenthusiasm.’

  ‘I told you, I’m not good enough to dance.’

  ‘But I am, though I say so myself. I haven’t dropped anyone for a good half hour.’ He moved back towards her, putting a hand over his heart with mock solemnity. ‘But I promise I won’t let you fall. If you’ll do me the honour of accepting this dance, that is?’

  Her eyes widened slightly, as if she wasn’t sure how to react, and he found himself willing her to say yes. Out of the corner of his eye he could see her father bearing down on them, coming to drag her away most likely, and by the slight tilt of her head he had the distinct impression she’d just noticed him, too. To Lance’s surprise, the sight seemed to decide her. After a moment’s hesitation, she took his arm, following him out into the middle of the dance floor.

  The orchestra struck up a tune and he smiled with satisfaction. It was a polka, a livelier dance than the waltz, but still one that allowed him to face her, to place one hand on her shoulder blade while he clasped her gloved fingers in the other.

  ‘My father told me not to dance with anyone except your brother.’ She tensed as his hand skimmed across the small of her back.

  ‘Then you’re more rebellious than I thought, Miss Harper.’

  ‘I’m not rebellious at all.’ Her expression shifted subtly. ‘Though sometimes I think I’d like to be.’

  ‘Indeed? Then you’ve come to the right man. I’d be more than happy to help.’

  ‘Oh.’ Her brow furrowed with a look of confusion. ‘Thank you.’

  He bit back a laugh, flirting by habit, though in truth, he was surprised by the variety of ideas that sprang to mind, none of which were remotely suitable in relation to his brother’s future wife. Over the top of her head he could see Cordelia Braithwaite pouting at him, though the sight left him cold. For some inexplicable reason, he preferred the unworldly, unusual Miss Harper.

  ‘The music’s very fast.’ She sounded nervous.

  ‘Just follow my lead.’

  He squeezed her fingers reassuringly as he led them off, sweeping her in a series of increasingly wide circles around the dance floor. She stumbled slightly at first, but quickly caught up with the rhythm, gradually relaxing in his arms as she adapted to the lively pace of the music. Contrary to what he’d expected, it was surprisingly easy to dance with her. He didn’t have any backache at all. She was so light that he found himself actually lifting her off her feet with every hop, her natural poise making her float like a feather in his arms.

  ‘I didn’t peg you for a liar, Miss Harper.’ He arched an eyebrow accusingly.

  ‘What do you mean?’ She looked startled again.

  ‘You said you weren’t a good dancer. You’re a natural.’

  Her whole face seemed to light up as she smiled. ‘I do enjoy it. We have a ballroom at home, though we’ve never had a ball.’

  ‘What a waste.’

  ‘Sometimes I dance there by myself.’

  ‘Without music?’

  ‘I sing.’ She bit her lip suddenly as if regretting the admission. ‘I suppose that sounds ridiculous.’

  ‘On the contrary, I’m sure you make quite a charming picture. I’d like to see and hear it.’

  She smiled again and he tightened his grip on her shoulder, amused and intrigued in equal measure. He’d never visited the Harpers’ mansion in Whitby, though it was rumoured to be immense and as chilling in appearance as its owner was in reality. The daughter really was straight out of a fairy tale. At this point he wouldn’t have been surprised to learn that she’d grown up in an ivory tower.

  ‘This is your first ball, I understand?’

  She nodded enthusiastically. ‘It’s my first anything. I’ve never seen so many people in one place. The ladies all look so beautiful.’

  ‘I suppose so.’ He glanced around, though the rest of the room seemed to have lost some of its lustre. All the other women looked drab by comparison.

  ‘Would you introduce me to some of them?’

  ‘The ladies?’ He raised both eyebrows this time. ‘Don’t you know anyone?’

  ‘The only people I know here are my father and yours, and now you. I don’t have many acquaintances.’

  ‘Not even in Whitby?’

  ‘No.’ She looked vaguely apologetic. ‘My father doesn’t like to make calls and he doesn’t approve of me going out on my own.’

  ‘Indeed?’ He felt a flicker of anger towards her father. Had she really been a prisoner, then? And yet she spoke matter-of-factly, as if she didn’t expect anything else. ‘In that case I’d be glad to make some introductions. Then perhaps you could encourage your father to throw his own ball? So that you can dance in your own house, I mean.’

  ‘Father?’ Her laugh sounded like a bell tinkling. ‘I can’t imagine that ever happening.’

  ‘Not even for your coming out?’ He felt a sudden impulse to test her, to see if she suspected anything of their fathers’ scheming. ‘I’m sure you’d find plenty of suitors.’

  The silvery glow that had seemed to envelop her faded, as if a shadow had just fallen over her face. ‘My father doesn’t approve of suitors.’

  ‘Maybe not, but after tonight I’m sure there’ll be plenty of young men eager to renew your acquaintance.’

  ‘Eager for my father’s money, you mean?’

  He almost tripped over his feet, taken aback by her bluntness. It was an unfortunate truth that in the eyes of the world her fortune would constitute her most attractive feature. She was too unusual looking to be called beautiful—he wouldn’t be surprised if his father actually saw coins when he looked at her—but such things weren’t usually spoken about out loud.

  ‘I see.’ Something of his thoughts must have shown on his face because an expression of hurt swept over hers. ‘I think I’d like to stop dancing now.’

  He blinked, surprised for the second time in less than a minute. Never in his life had a woman asked to stop dancing with him before. Most wanted to do a lot more than that. He couldn’t have been any more surprised if she’d slapped him across the cheek.

  ‘Miss Harper, if I’ve offended you then I apologise.’

  ‘You haven’t.’ She stopped stock-still in the middle of the dance floor, every part of her body turning rigid at once. ‘I know what I am.’

  ‘What you are?’ He made a brief gesture of apology as the couple behind them polkaed straight into his back.

  ‘Yes! And I refuse to stand here and be mocked for it.’

  ‘What...?’

  He didn’t get any further as she twisted away from him, pushing her way through the dancers as he stared speechlessly after her. What on earth had he said to cause such an extreme reaction? That she might have suitors? Women liked to be told they’d have suitors, didn’t they? And yet she’d seemed to think he’d been laughing at her, as if the very idea were a joke—as if she were a joke. Why the hell would she think that?

  He started after her, taking a different path through the throng. He had to fix it, whatever it was that he’d done. If his father were really so determined to have her as a daughter-in-law, then he didn’t want to make a bad situation any worse—although he didn’t want to upset her either, he realised. The look of hurt on her face had elicited an unexpected feeling of guilt. It wasn’t an emotion he was accustomed to, had actually taken him a few moments to identify, and he wanted to be rid of it as quickly as possible.

&
nbsp; ‘Miss Harper.’ He intercepted her before she could reach her father. ‘I wasn’t mocking you. I was only trying to make conversation.’

  ‘Well, I didn’t find it amusing.’

  ‘Then blame my shoddy manners.’ He put an arm out as she tried to dodge past him. ‘I was too forward, but for what it’s worth, I think you might have any number of eager suitors. There aren’t many women I’d run across a ballroom for.’

  She lifted her chin, meeting his gaze with a dignity that managed to make him feel even more guilty. ‘I’m not devoid of intelligence, Captain Amberton. My father’s told me not to think about marriage and I don’t. He’s warned me that any suitors would only be after my fortune.’

  ‘But that’s preposterous!’ He felt a spontaneous burst of temper. What kind of father would say such a vile thing, as if she had no attractions of her own? She had more than enough, in his eyes anyway, not that it was his place to say so. That was supposed to be his brother’s job. Where was Arthur anyway? There were enough people looking in their direction now, but no sign of his brother among them.

  Her eyes flashed. ‘My father wants what’s best for me. He’s trying to protect me.’

  ‘He’s a liar!’

  ‘Indeed, sir?’

  Lance clenched his jaw, stifling an oath at the sound of her father’s voice behind him. So much for behaving himself. Somehow he’d managed to cause a scene and insult one of his father’s oldest friends into the bargain. Not that he felt particularly sorry. On the contrary, now that he’d started a scandal, he saw little point in stopping.

  He turned around, looking the older man square in the eye. ‘If you’ve told your daughter that no man would want to marry her for herself then, yes, sir, you’re a liar.’

  ‘What I say to my daughter is no business of yours.’ Harper’s beady eyes narrowed malevolently. ‘And I’ll thank you to keep your distance in future. She won’t be dancing with a reprobate like you again.’

  ‘Better a reprobate than a liar.’

  ‘Captain Amberton!’ Miss Harper pushed herself between them, though her tiny height did nothing to obstruct either one of their views. ‘You’ve no right to insult my father!’