Mischance

by Smith, Carla Susan

  News of the Pelham-Connor engagement spread quickly, and the more vicious tongues lost no time wagging. Before long it was generally concluded that the marriage was nothing more than a business venture. The merger of land and money. The gossips would have been most put out if they had only known how single-minded Liam had been in the pursuit of his bride. He would have taken Felicity with no dowry, and no prospects.

  But he had been delighted to discover his fiancée possessed a fine brain, and with the proper encouragement, she could converse quite animatedly on a wide variety of subjects. Indeed, when engrossed in a subject she was knowledgeable about, Felicity’s confidence grew, making the quiet beauty very loud indeed. In his heart Liam knew he wanted to share his life with no other.

  To Felicity, Liam was the answer to a prayer she had only had the courage to whisper to herself in the dark. She had been ridiculously happy to know he still remembered the timid girl who spent one glorious summer tagging along with him and his brother as they roamed the countryside. Rian, being the eldest, gave permission for her to join them, but it was Liam who took care of her. Offering his hand when she needed help climbing over a stile, carrying her piggyback across a stream so her boots wouldn’t get wet. And it was Liam who gently wiped away her tears and comforted her when she fell and skinned her knees. Was it any surprise she had fallen in love with him?

  Emily Pelham, away visiting a sick relative, had been horrified on her return to discover just how and, more to the point, with whom her daughter had been spending her days. Declaring both Connor boys to be totally unsuitable as playmates, she had put an immediate end to the friendship. Sometimes Felicity wished they all could have known each other better growing up, but her mother had spoken and no one was going to defy her wishes.

  Through the years, Felicity comforted herself with her daydreams. Sitting unnoticed in the kitchen, she would perk up when a conversation mentioned the latest mischief involving the Connor boys. Usually Rian was the subject of the conversation, but every now and then Liam’s name would be thrown into the mix. It was generally agreed that Liam was the more sensible of the brothers. Rian reminded Felicity of a thunderstorm. Unpredictable and wildly exhilarating but far too exhausting for the likes of her. Liam was the calm that came after the storm. Still, it was said about the village that when riled, usually in defense of his sibling, Liam’s temper was quick to rise, and only a fool would underestimate him. Temper or not, Felicity knew her heart would belong to no other.

  Now, with her wedding barely two weeks away, she was experiencing an overwhelming case of premarital nerves. Her parents may have chosen to live most of the year at their country estate, but the Pelham name still wielded respect in the upper echelons of society. Because of this, the wedding of their only child had become one of the season’s high points. Felicity had resigned herself long ago to having a large crowd in attendance. If left to her, she and Liam would have exchanged vows in the family chapel with only her parents and Rian to stand witness. She certainly didn’t need all this pomp, but she accepted that her parents, by virtue of who they were, had to put on such a display. She was just thankful that Liam seemed perfectly happy to let his prospective mother-in-law have her way. He viewed the elaborate planning with all the bemusement typical of a groom.

  This did not mean, however, that Liam was insensitive to the heightened anxiety his fiancée was experiencing at the prospect of becoming the center of attention. Taking her to one side, he promised that he would not leave her alone for a single moment on their wedding day and with this reassurance, Felicity felt she could face anything. To prove her newfound confidence, she did not hesitate when Liam told her he wanted to spend a few days with his brother.

  “See if you can persuade him to return with you,” she told him with an easy laugh.

  “That may all depend on how strong a hold Lady Howard has on him,” Liam responded with a troubled frown, relieved he did not have to conceal his opinion from Felicity.

  “So, you believe there is truth in the rumors concerning the two of them?”

  “That, my love, I cannot say, but this will be my chance to find out.” He smiled as Felicity took his hand in hers, concern on her face.

  “All the more reason to bring him back with you then,” she repeated firmly.

  “What a godsend you are,” Liam murmured, brushing the back of his hand lightly across her cheek.

  Felicity cast her eyes downward, but did nothing to hide the smile that lifted her lips. Gently Liam placed a finger beneath her chin and raised her face to his and then, with the utmost tenderness, he kissed her fully on the mouth. It was the first time he had ever kissed her like this, and her entire body tingled in response. At his silent urging she parted her lips, dazed to feel the warmth of his breath in her mouth. Her inexperience was evident, and Liam was cautious with his exploration. Gliding lightly across her teeth and the inside of her lower lip, he gently invaded her mouth. And while he playfully danced with her tongue, loving the taste of her, he subtly let his bride-to-be feel the force of his need as he held her to him. His reward was to note her reluctance to release him when he ended the kiss. While moments alone were not unusual for a betrothed couple, Liam did not want to do anything that might make his future mother-in-law regret such lenience.

  “I doubt we shall be alone like this again before I make you my wife,” Liam said, refusing to apologize for taking advantage of the unexpected moment.

  Still caught in the passion of his kiss, Felicity gazed up at him with shining eyes. Liam kissed her again, but this time it was a more chaste press of his lips to her forehead. Once he was gone, Felicity hugged herself tightly and wondered how it was possible for one person to be so supremely happy.

  Now, in the middle of a last fitting for her wedding gown, she received a note from Liam requesting to speak with her privately. As quickly as she could, Felicity scrambled out of the yards of pale blue material and changed into her day dress. She was still tucking away a few stray wisps of hair when she entered the morning room and found her future husband waiting for her. Over tea he told her about Catherine, glossing over the extent of her physical injuries and his own speculations on how she had come by them.

  “I have asked Rian to bring the girl to Oakhaven,” he said speaking earnestly, “and I hope that you will find it in your heart to befriend her.”

  “Oh Liam!” Felicity exclaimed. “Can you imagine how horrible it must be for her to have no memory of who she is, or where she comes from? Poor girl must be scared to death. Of course she must stay with us, and Oakhaven will be perfect.”

  Liam smiled and moved so he now sat next to her. Taking her hand in both of his, he turned it over and tenderly kissed her palm, making Felicity blush furiously. “You’re a wonderful woman, Felicity Pelham, and I have no idea what I have done to deserve you,” he remarked softly, before a look of concern crossed his face.

  “What troubles you, my love?” She was still hesitant about addressing him so informally, and she used the endearment shyly.

  “I think this girl is having the most profound effect on my brother, more than he cares to admit.”

  “Perhaps he sees some special quality in her,” Felicity observed. Liam gave a thoughtful hum. “In any case,” she continued, “one more guest at our wedding will make little difference .”

  Liam shook his head slowly. “Oh, my love, I doubt her injuries will permit her to attend, and I cannot imagine she would be comfortable amongst so many new faces.”

  Felicity’s face fell as she realized the foolishness of her suggestion.

  “I know you only meant well,” Liam told her. “Your heart was in the right place.”

  She looked so forlorn however, that Liam decided to spend the next hour or so restoring her good humor by asking about the latest additions to their guest list, and regaling her with tales about the new names. Most of the stories were humorous, a few slightly ris
qué, but none were told with malicious intent. He simply wanted to put Felicity at ease. He treasured these moments with her. In her presence, he never felt the need to be anything other than himself, and he looked forward to the quiet pools of solitude she offered in response to the sometimes turbulent events of his life. Being accountable for an estate as large as Oakhaven created its own set of demands, and it was a responsibility he took seriously.

  He sighed, relishing the moment of absolute contentment. Felicity was the rock to which he would anchor himself for the rest of his days. He wondered if she would ever truly know how much he would depend on her.

  Chapter 23

  A week had passed since Rian’s ill-fated meeting with Isabel. He had long since stopped scolding himself for his actions. It was a waste of time for one thing, and constantly revisiting the moment would not change what had happened. Whether she knew it or not, Isabel’s decision not to see him before the wedding was exactly what he needed. Though he could admit to missing her friendship, he found the separation liberating. And he already knew there would be no invitation issued for Isabel to visit Oakhaven.

  His emerging feelings for Catherine, emotions he thought never to experience again, needed to be examined without any distraction. He still did not know if they were substantial enough to pursue, or merely his response to a woman in distress. If all he had to go on was the way she had reacted to his touch when last they met, a sensible man would believe he had his answer. But Rian knew there was so much more to Catherine.

  All the same, he was taken completely off guard to hear her light, feminine voice utter a string of profanity. He thought at first he was hearing things, but when the vulgarity was repeated, he realized Catherine had no idea just how far her voice carried. Curious, he approached the master suite and seeing she had her back to him, Rian leaned against the open doorway waiting to see if he could discern what had prompted the string of profanity.

  She was standing next to the bed, holding onto the carved wooden post with a grip strong enough to turn her knuckles white. It was the first time he had seen her in the daytime since their previous meeting, and although he was kept informed as to her progress, it was gratifying to see the improvement with his own eyes. He recognized the dress Catherine was wearing as one of those he’d had made for her. Although calling it a dress was being generous. More of a shapeless sack, it was fashioned from a lightweight fabric and intentionally constructed to be loose fitting so as not to chafe her back or legs. Rian was able to see her feet poking out from below the hem of the roomy garment. Now that Catherine no longer needed the bandages, Mrs. Hatch had found some soft slippers for her to wear. Her hair hung down her back in a single pale braid that was as thick as his forearm, and he smiled as the ribbon tied about the end danced in the hollow of her back.

  The breath caught in his throat when she suddenly let go of the bedpost and took a step forward, swaying perilously as she did so. The air was instantly filled with more salty words. Rian raised a hand to cover his mouth, curious to know who might have taught her this particular phrase. Even the most generously endowed man on the planet could not abuse himself in the manner she was suggesting. Taking a second step, Catherine repeated the first curse he’d heard, which told him these were the only two phrases she knew. Or perhaps the only two she remembered. He couldn’t imagine what explanation he would give Mrs. Hatch if it turned out Catherine was no stranger to vulgar language.

  But the thought did not stop him from grinning as he imagined Catherine cursing her way across the room. Apparently her feet still pained her, but she seemed determined to make use of them. Another step and then another, only this time the sharp intake of breath did not allow for words of any kind to be spoken. Filled with admiration for her strength of will, Rian looked on as she forced herself to keep moving.

  Catherine had now reached the middle of the room, and stopped to catch her breath. She was in a sort of no-man’s-land. Too far away from the bed and the support of the bedpost to return, but not yet close enough to the chaise which was her next anchor. Before he could offer any assistance, he found she was suddenly staring at him from over her shoulder. Eyes the color of cornflowers were filled with unexpected warmth and her smile proclaimed genuine pleasure at seeing him. Indeed, she gave no sign of suffering any anxiety knowing he’d been observing her.

  “Hello, Catherine.” It was all he could think of to say.

  “Mr. Connor.”

  Her voice held a breathy tone that he decided was more a result of her exertions than caused by his presence. But he couldn’t deny he liked the way she said his name. It was a shame she hadn’t called him Rian.

  “I’m getting stronger,” she stated.

  “So I’m told.”

  At that moment her legs decided to prove her wrong, and it took Rian no more than three strides to reach her. Gathering her in his arms, he caught her as her knees buckled. Disappointment filled him as he felt her stiffen in his embrace. Catherine might be all sunny smiles and friendliness, but her body was telling him something different, and although she wasn’t trying to throw herself out of his arms, Rian could tell she wasn’t comfortable being in such proximity. Carefully he rose to his full height and resettled her in his arms. She wasn’t heavy, but catching her as he had made his hold on her somewhat awkward, and he didn’t want to risk dropping her. The scent of her hair filled his nostrils, and the heady thrill of pleasure that jolted through him was a firm declaration of his attraction to her. Unlike the magnetism that had drawn him to Isabel, Rian sensed this had the potential to be something more. A feeling that ran deeper and stronger.

  Catherine glanced up at him from beneath her lashes, and something in his belly caught fire. Rian felt as if he could whisper every foolish dream he had ever had to her, and she would keep them all safe. And this time there was more than a protective need stirring deep within him.

  “Perhaps not quite as strong as you thought,” he observed, seeing her cheeks turn a delightful shade of pink.

  The absence of both corset and petticoats emphasized the feel of her body, and Rian couldn’t recall the last time holding a woman had felt so right. Unable to help himself, he pulled Catherine closer only to be chastened by the quick compression of her lips. “Am I hurting you?” he asked.

  Her reply was delivered in a curious squeak as she placed the flat of her hand against his chest, and pushed. “One of your buttons is poking me,” she told him, referring to the fastenings on his waistcoat.

  He didn’t know what to think as she repositioned herself with a wriggle, and then put her arms around his neck as he continued across the room. “What were you trying to do?” he asked.

  “I would have thought that was obvious. I was walking.”

  “And has Dr. MacGregor given his permission for such activity?” The physician, being in the neighborhood, had paid a visit earlier that morning.

  Rian deposited her gently on the cushioned seat of the chaise. It might have been his imagination, or a case of wishful thinking, but he could have sworn Catherine hesitated as she pulled her arms from around his neck.

  “Well, he didn’t tell me not to,” she answered in her own defense, refusing to look up at him. “And besides, I am getting stronger every day.”

  “That may be,” he told her, “but your balance still needs practice.”

  “I would have been perfectly fine if you hadn’t distracted me.”

  “I saved you from falling over.”

  “I only fell because you were looking at me,” she told him, mulishly.

  He stared at her in disbelief. How had this become his fault? He took a breath and decided to try a different approach. “Were you planning on taking a few turns about the room, or did you have a specific destination in mind?”

  Catherine pointed over his shoulder. “I was trying to get to the window.”

  “Whatever for?” The words slipped out before
Rian had a chance to stop them, and he didn’t need to see the look on Catherine’s face to tell him he was an idiot.

  “Because I’m tired of staring at bed curtains,” she said, speaking with an exaggerated patience normally used to address a child. A very young child.

  Rian immediately felt contrite. Obviously Catherine was not used to being inactive. The feel of her lithe build told him she was no stranger to physical activity, and he could sympathize with her frustration at being confined to the bed and this room. Testing the limits of her physical capabilities had been the reason for her impromptu stroll toward the window. Unfortunately, overexertion could also keep her bedridden longer than was necessary.

  “Do you like to read? There is a library downstairs. I could see if there’s anything that might help occupy your time.”

  “I don’t know,” Catherine said, wrinkling her forehead. At least she was looking at him.

  “You don’t know about what?”

  “Reading.”

  “You don’t know if you can read?” Rian frowned. It never occurred to him that perhaps she couldn’t.

  Her laugh sounded like a bubbling spring. “No, I’m certain I know how to read.” She paused, looking at him with an expression that made his own pulse quicken.

  “What is it? Have you remembered something?”

  Catherine shook her head. “Not exactly, it’s more like an impression.” Opening her hands as if something rested in her palms, she stared at them. “I can sense holding a book in my hands,” she rubbed the pad of her thumb across the tips of her fingers, “feel the texture of the pages,” she continued.

  “Can you recall the name of any book or an author perhaps?”