by Ava Stone
As he retrieved his beaver hat from the footman at the door, Marc asked quietly, “Do you happen to know which is the most fashionable event this evening, my good man?”
The footman thought for a second and then said, “I’ve heard several men discussing Lady Carteret’s soiree, my lord.”
Carteret House. Felicity Pierce might very well be there as it was someplace Marc would not be greeted warmly. Lord Carteret was, after all, one of Lord Staveley’s oldest friends. He might not even be allowed over the threshold. Best to try Prestwick House first and see if the lady’s butler could be persuaded to divulge his mistress’ destination for the evening.
Derbyshire. Of all the damned places Felicity Pierce could have gone…Well, that wasn’t such a bad place, all things considered, as it was a few days drive away. Still, it wouldn’t be terribly easy to get word to her at her family seat either. But Caroline Staveley could, at least that was what Marc told himself as he stepped over the threshold of Lady Carteret’s ballroom.
The truth, however, was that as soon as her name had popped to his mind, Marc needed to see her again. Even if she railed at him, even if she cursed his existence, even if she looked at him as though he was the scourge of the Earth, at least she would be looking at him.
He spotted her instantly through the crush, but he always spotted her instantly. Such was his curse for falling in love with another man’s wife. Laughing with a tall blonde who was of no consequence, Caroline stood at the far end of the room, the chandeliers above head making her dark curls look a bit reddish under their glow. Marc’s mouth went dry at the sight of her. Charming, delectable, utterly gorgeous. She was most definitely wasted on that oaf Staveley. Life was the furthest thing from fair.
She must have felt his eyes on her because she glanced across the room and met his gaze. A second later, her jaw took on a most stubborn jut and she averted her eyes quickly from him. But it was no matter. She’d see him tonight. She’d talk to him. With a little luck, he’d get more than that from her.
Marc pushed his way through the crowd, ignoring the whispers in his wake. Whether they were discussing Carraway’s infamous punch or the fact that Marc made a direct path to society’s darling, Caroline Staveley, made no difference at all to him, not with her this close and him having a reason that she would finally speak to him.
He stopped right before her, ignoring the woman to her side. “My lady,” he said, noting the gravely tone in his own voice. “A dance, if you please.”
Caroline heaved a rather unhappy sigh as she lifted her gaze to his once more. “I think I’ve made myself rather clear, Lord Haversham. But in case you weren’t paying attention, what would please me immensely is to never lay eyes on you for the rest of my days. Please do go bother someone else.”
He’d hardly let that deter him. Marc nodded once. “You have made that quite clear, my dear, but I fear that a mutual friend of ours is in a bit of trouble and needs your help.”
That ought to be enigmatic enough to spark her curiosity. If there was one thing Caroline Staveley was, it was curious. And meddlesome. Both were qualities he admired in her, and they’d be her undoing in the end.
Caroline’s pretty brow furrowed and she seemed to assess his face for signs of deception. Then she glanced to her left and said, “Hannah, I’m just going to take in a bit of air on the veranda, in case anyone needs me.” Then she turned on her heel and started towards the pair of large glass doors at the end of the ballroom without even a glance back over her shoulder.
There was, of course, no need to worry that he wouldn’t follow her. Marc would follow her to the ends of the Earth as long as there was breath in his lungs. He stepped out through the doors and the cool wind on the veranda whipped about his hair, but he wasn’t chilly in the least, not with Caroline within an arm’s reach.
She turned around to face him, her arms folded across her chest, which only served to lift those tempting mounds of hers a bit higher for his gaze. Damn it all, what he wouldn’t give just to touch one of them…
“I do hope you’re not lying to me,” she said rather waspishly. “My husband is just inside Carteret’s study.”
As though Staveley’s presence meant anything to him. Unfortunately, the oaf’s presence meant something to her. Marc shook his head. “I don’t believe I have ever lied to you, Caroline.”
She narrowed her eyes on him at the use of her Christian name. “I’m not about to argue that fact, my lord. So simply tell me, what do you want?”
You, he wanted to say; but that was not why he’d come, not really. “I think Felicity Pierce is in trouble.”
“Lissy?” She scoffed. “The only trouble she has is you chasing after her skirts.”
“Jealous?” he asked before he could stop himself.
She pursed her lips, which only made him want to taste them again. Then she said, “That is the last time I listen to you and your tales of friends in trouble, Lord Haversham,” as she started to brush past him.
But Marc grasped her elbow and refused to let her take another step away from him. “Her husband isn’t dead,” he said softly. “He is here. In London. And tomorrow he’ll head over to Prestwick House as I did tonight and learn that she and Carraway have set off for Derbyshire to attend Lady Juliet. I don’t like the look of the man, Caroline. I think the girl needs to be warned.”
“I beg your pardon?” She blinked up at him, her hazel eyes clouded with confusion. “Her husband isn’t dead?”
“Alive, well, and not a terribly charming fellow.”
“She is a widow,” Caroline stressed as though she didn’t truly believe him.
“I met the man this evening at Whites. Aaron Pierce. He’s gone into business with Thurlstone and until tonight was under the impression that his wife was dead. He didn’t appear pleased to learn otherwise.”
She shook her head as though he made less sense the more he talked. “They each thought the other was dead?”
“I can’t truly answer to that, and I’m not certain at all about what is going on; but I can tell you that the man seemed rather murderous. I think you should send word to your brother, warn him that Pierce will be headed to Prestwick Chase, just to be safe.”
“Oh, heavens.” She touched a hand to her heart. “Luke’s been so distracted as Juliet hasn’t been faring well of late.” She sighed as though trying to sort out the best plan of attack. “A note might not reach there in time. You’ll have to go after them.”
“Me?” Marc scoffed. “I most certainly do not. It’s your family. I’ve warned you. My duty here is done.”
She grasped his waistcoat in her hands and gazed up at him. Heat coursed through his veins and it was all he could do not to pull her into his arms.
“Please, Marc,” she whispered.
Oh God. She knew just how to twist him around her finger. But it wasn’t her finger that he wanted. “Kiss me, Caroline. Kiss me and I’ll do whatever you wish.”
From the entrance to the ballroom, someone cleared their throat, and she took a step backwards, away from Marc. Then she gulped and seemed to force a smile to her face. “David darling,” she said. “There you are.”
Of all the Goddamned people to interrupt them. Marc heaved a sigh and glanced over his shoulder to find the very studious Viscount Staveley standing just a few feet away. “Staveley,” he grumbled.
“Bethany Carteret said you’d come to get a breath of fresh air,” the man said to his wife, not acknowledging Marc’s presence in the least.
Caroline nodded quickly. “I think Felicity is in trouble and she’s headed to Prestwick Chase.” Then she turned her attention once more to Marc. “Please. If Captain Pierce truly worries you, Lord Haversham, please go after them. I beg you.”
Before Marc could reply, however, Staveley said, “Love, I can head to Prestwick Chase. There’s no need to impose upon Lord Haversham for help.”
“You?” She blinked at her husband in surprise.
Honestly, Marc was surprised
too. The man rarely left his library. He certainly wouldn’t be anyone’s first choice as far as champions went.
“Of course,” the viscount replied, pushing his spectacles up the bridge of his nose. “I’m just as capable as anyone else. And I’d hate for us to be beholden to Lord Haversham.”
Meaning the man had heard every word Marc had said to his wife. An honorable man would be ashamed, Marc supposed, but he’d never been accused of being honorable. So he turned slightly and flashed the viscount an uncharitable grin. “Godspeed, then, Staveley. About time you played Sir Galahad for her.” Then he tipped his head in farewell to Caroline and said, “Evening, my dear,” before brushing past Staveley and back inside the Carteret ballroom.
Fin wrapped on Lissy’s door. Ericht and his sister were already in the private dinning room, waiting for them. “Lissy, dinner,” he called. But there was no sound on the other side. Clearly, she was still avoiding him.
What the devil was he going to do about her? About them? Things had been perfect between them, better than perfect. Making love to her had felt like the most right thing he’d ever done, and she’d been just as swept away as he was, he’d have bet every last farthing he possessed. He’d simply declared himself too quickly was all and frightened her, damned idiot that he was.
He had, after all, heard Lieutenant Avery’s words that night in the carriage. Captain Pierce obviously hadn’t treated Lissy well. The very idea of marriage had to frighten her to her core just like…Well, just like Georgie had been.
Oh, Georgie and Lissy were night and day. No matter that they were sisters, two more different women didn’t exist. And yet they’d both been mistreated by their husbands. The mere mention of marriage could make Georgie scurry from a room as though the devil himself was chasing after her. She’d relished the freedom her widowhood had given her, the freedom to not be under an abusive husband’s thumb. And Lissy was the same in that; it was quite obvious now that he knew what to look for.
Fin scoffed. She had literally run from the room with nothing more than the dress on her back and the slippers on her feet. Damn it all, what had Pierce done to her? And how could Fin convince her that he would never do the same? It had taken forever to wear Georgie’s defenses down, for her to finally agree to marry him. Was he in for an equally long battle with Lissy’s demons?
Damn, he hoped not. He truly did love her, he truly did want to marry her. But how to convince her? That was the question that had plagued him the rest of the evening until now, though he was no closer to an answer than he had been when she’d fled the room earlier that evening.
Fin sidled closer to her door and said softly, “I know you don’t want to see me, but you do have to eat, sweetheart.”
He could sit her down and demand she speak to him about their situation. Though the direct approach was never a good one with Lissy. She’d be defiant, just on general principle. Even now she wouldn’t even open the door for dinner as he was on the other side of it.
He could be patient, like he had been with Georgie. Though he truly didn’t relish that particular waiting game again. Besides, the two women weren’t the same in the least. He always knew Georgie would come around in the end, but Lissy…Well, a more stubborn girl did not exist.
He could try coercion. He had, after all, spilled his seed deep inside her. She would definitely want any child from their union to have a father, to have a name, for God’s sake. That wasn’t even up for debate. If she was with child, she’d marry him and that would be it, but…
Well, if she’d only listen to reason.
“Felicity! Open the door,” he called, his irritation growing the longer he stood there. Still, she said nothing, the stubborn minx. She’d make Fin stand there, like dolt all night, and she’d wait him out.
Best to retrieve Annie, he decided. Even if Lissy refused to come down to eat, her maid could still bring a bit of nourishment to her.
He started for the servant’s room and quickly knocked on Annie’s door. “It’s Lord Carraway,” he called.
A half-second later, the door opened, and Lissy’s maid, with a rather large bandage on her head, smiled up at him. “Is everything all right, my lord?”
Things were the furthest they could be from all right. “I can’t seem to coerce your lady into leaving her chambers for dinner. I thought you might have better luck than I’ve had.”
“Yes, of course.” Annie nodded quickly and then winced as the movement must have hurt her injured head.
“Are you all right?” Fin asked.
“Just the teensiest bit dizzy, my lord.”
Fin scrubbed a hand across his face. Annie was in no condition to do his bidding. “Do sit back down, then.” He gestured her back inside her room. “I’ll get her to eat one way or the other if it kills me.”
Annie laughed. “If she’s decided not to, it just might.”
“Don’t I know it?” Fin sighed. “But do feel better, Annie. Chivers’ leg has been set and the coach is being repaired as we speak. We’ll head out at morning’s light.”
“I’ll be ready, my lord. And I’m certain Lady Felicity will be in better spirits once we arrive. She’s been so worried about Lady Juliet.”
“I’m certain you’re right.” He smiled in farewell, though he wasn’t certain in the least.
Fin made his way down the old wooden steps into the taproom. He nodded at the barkeeper. “Would it be possible to have a tray delivered to Lady Felicity’s room?”
The man blinked at him. “Lady Felicity’s room?”
“Yes. First room on the right at the top of the steps.”
But the barkeeper shook his head. “The lady is gone, my lord.”
“Gone?” Fin echoed, his heart nearly breaking in two. What the devil had she done now? “Gone where?”
The man shrugged in response. “She said something about her sister. Bought a horse from Old Jim, down there.” He gestured to a fellow who didn’t seem all that old, but he did seem more than foxed.
Fin raked a hand through his hair. Prestwick Chase was only a few hours away. But it was dark as pitch outside. Their carriage had lost a wheel thanks to the uneven road, even with a bit of daylight. One false step by Old Jim’s horse and Lissy would twist her pretty neck. “When was this?”
“Not sure, sir. We’ve been busy down here. At least an hour or so, though, I’d say.”
An hour or so. Visions of Lissy’s lifeless body along the side of the road flashed in Fin’s mind. His heart twisted in his chest. If anything happened to her… “I need a horse,” he said, hoping to block any more distressing images from entering his mind.
The crunch of the gravel beneath her new steed’s hooves signaled Lissy’s approach to Prestwick Chase. Even in the dark she’d know the sound of that particular gravel, as she’d traveled it so often when she was younger.
Not a candle was lit in any window at The Chase, but she could see the manor outlined beneath the dim moonlight. Never would she have imagined Prestwick Chase would be a beacon of salvation for her, but that’s exactly what it was at the moment.
Her legs ached, her back was sore, her cheeks still stung from tears. But now that she was home, she’d be safe. Safe from doing something else she’d regret as she didn’t trust herself in the least where Fin was concerned. One more protestation of love and she’d throw her arms around his neck, but that just wouldn’t do. She had very aptly destroyed her own life. She couldn’t destroy his too. She loved him too much to do that to him.
She glanced again at her darkened childhood home. Juliet would be asleep. Everyone would be asleep. She’d wake the whole house at this hour, unless…Her sister had spent a small fortune repairing the place, but had she fixed that faulty window in the study? Lissy wasn’t certain if anyone else even knew the window was faulty. In her youth, whenever she’d sneak away in the dead of night, she’d always been alone. She’d never been caught back in those days, back when the idea of just a bit of freedom would keep her awake long into the
night, and only a walk in the moonlight could soothe her restlessness. If only a walk in the moonlight was all it would take to soothe her now.
The memory of Fin’s kiss, his touch, the gentle way he’d made love to her invaded Lissy’s thoughts again. There would never be enough moonlit walks to ever soothe her soul, of that she was more than certain.
She guided her horse to the stables, refocusing on the situation at hand, or at least trying to. Pushing Fin from her mind was next to impossible. She dismounted and led the horse to one of the stalls. Though she was exhausted, Lissy made quick work with the saddle, then sponged the horse down while he drank his fill from a large bucket. The fellow deserved to drink all he could, after all he’d done to get her safely home.
Lissy stroked the animal’s back. “Thank you,” she said softly before exiting the stables and making her way up to the manor house.
With a little bit of luck, she could quietly slip inside and then make her appearance known in the morning. She hoped Juliet was all right. She didn’t know what she’d do otherwise. Jules had always been the strongest of them all, the most formidable, the bravest. She had to be all right. She just had to be.
Lissy hastened her step toward her childhood home, heading toward the left side of the manor and the faulty window of the ducal study. A bit of moonlight lit her path, but she didn’t need it. She knew this path as well as she knew her own name. She reached the study, sent up a quick prayer that the window would open and then pushed against the bottom of the pane.
Just like all those years ago, the window lifted effortlessly and she smiled to herself. Finally something was going her way.
“One more step, cockchafer,” growled a voice from the darkness, “and I’ll rip your head from your shoulders and toss it into my hearth.”
