A Warriner to Protect Her

by Virginia Heath

  Even mealtimes were awkward. Not with everyone else, of course, just with Jack. Both of them actively joined in the boisterous conversations, but they were careful to avoid directly answering or directing comments at each other. At times, it became almost impossible to keep track of it all and Letty’s near-constant state of self-consciousness, growing lack of confidence and her determination to hide it all behind the cheerful façade of Violet was becoming exhausting.

  The only light at the end of the tunnel was that Letty would be leaving in a week. Four days before her twenty-first birthday Jack had decided they would journey to London. He planned to do the journey in segments, travelling overnight so as not to arouse suspicion and resting during the daylight hours well away from prying eyes. With a reward for one thousand pounds hanging over her head, reporting a sighting of Letty was potentially the most lucrative Christmas present anyone would ever receive. She made no arguments on his insistence they err on the side of caution. Once in London, she would be handed over to the authorities where she could finally bring her uncle and Bainbridge to justice.

  Whether or not Jack would be staying to witness the ugly aftermath, she had no idea and her pride would not allow her to ask. She was putting all of that nonsense out of her head for the time being. It was what it was. All she could say with any certainty was that she would soon be all alone in the world again, devoid of any real human attachments and with only her money to keep her company. It was cold comfort for a woman whose dearest wish was to belong somewhere and be understood. No, that was a lie. She wanted to belong here. With Jack. Never mind—she had had real plans before she had met the man, plans that did not include a patronising male who thought he knew best, and she would start on them the second the ink was dry on the official papers giving her control over her own fortune. Jack might not need her. but those foundlings did. She would belong with them and he would be forgotten.

  Or so she hoped.

  With a sigh, she reached for the greatcoat by the back door. Today was Christmas Eve, and Letty was damned if she would allow her melancholy to spoil her plans for the festivities. Right now, because she could finally risk going outside in daylight, she was going to fetch holly to decorate the great hall in readiness. Tomorrow afternoon, after the essential farm chores were done, they were going to celebrate properly. Jamie had killed a fat goose which was hanging ready to be roasted in the oven and Joe had gone to the village to buy some wine to accompany their feast. With Jacob, Letty had organised games for afterwards and she had made each of the brothers a small gift. It was nothing special, only handkerchiefs she had embroidered using their mother’s old silk threads, but each one had the man’s name and a pattern which suited his character. Jamie’s had colourful paint palettes and brushes, Jacob’s had books and newspapers and for Joe she had recreated the snake-and-staff motif used by healers since ancient times.

  Jack’s handkerchief was a cause for concern, but it was far too late to change it now. She had been umming and ahhing for days about whether or not it was appropriate, being uncharacteristically indecisive, to the extent that it was now far too late to change it even if she wanted to. Which she definitely did. Unsurprisingly, she had made his first and put far too much care into the design. If compared alongside his brothers’, it would be plain to see it had been made by a woman completely besotted. But Letty had made it before she had humiliated herself before him in the barn and then could not bring herself to change it because to do so involved thinking about him, when she would prefer to avoid doing that at all costs. It was a decision which would probably come back to haunt her. Everyone knew what a lion symbolised.

  The whole of England was peppered with them. The monarch’s crest had three, for pity’s sake, and every other door knocker in Mayfair had one. Lions stood for power, strength, courage and fortitude. Four attributes which Jack Warriner possessed in spades. However, for Letty it stood for Jack’s other attributes, too. Loyalty. Self-sacrifice. Leadership. He was the unchallenged leader of this pride. The king of all beasts had seemed strangely fitting for a man who allowed himself no time for hobbies. Their protector. Her protector.

  Her rejecter now as well, which was as devastating as it was humiliating.

  Why hadn’t she chosen something more innocuous and perhaps a little insulting, like a sheep? Jack owned sheep and they vexed him a great deal. He thought them stupid creatures. Last night, she had considered unpicking her work and replacing the majestic lion’s head with a fat, woolly sheep just to spite him, except, she was concerned he might see this as a reminder of her shameless reaction to him when she had first witnessed him pulling one of the stupid creatures from the mud. He must have noticed she had become a flushed, stuttering fool at the sight of his bare chest. Jamie certainly had. However, the awful truth was that Letty would blush scarlet when she gave it to him, no matter which design she had chosen. At least she could fib her way out of the lion.

  It could, she reasoned, also represent his superior, dictatorial manner, aloofness and coldness. From what she had read, your average lion would not think twice about ruthlessly killing its prey and eating it, just as Jack had not so much as blinked when he had denounced her existence as superficial and privileged. If questioned, she had already prepared a little speech to make the others laugh and put their eldest brother in his place. Letty hoped she didn’t have to use it because none of it was true. She adored the fact he was noble and steadfast. In a world where Letty found it difficult to truly trust anyone, she trusted Jack implicitly. Heart and soul. He always did what was right and proper. He was reliably, solidly responsible.

  However, she hated that he insisted on maintaining those iron-clad morals all of the time. Just once, she wished he would forget about them, kiss her and lose his mind completely. The noble Jack was so frustrating, or perhaps it was simply because she was frustrated.

  Using shears, she snipped boughs of holly from a bush which was a bit sparse. The leaves were curled and browning without a single berry in sight. Disappointed, she scanned the grounds for a better specimen. Off into the distance, close to the river’s edge, she thought she spied something red and walked towards it. On closer inspection, it proved to be the perfect example of a Christmas decoration. Shiny, waxy green leaves resplendent with ripe, crimson berries. She was so excited with the find and engrossed in cutting armfuls of the stuff, she failed to notice the two children peeking at her from behind a matching holly bush on the opposite bank. Nor did Letty see them scurry off before she bent down to gingerly pick up her thorny decorations and drag them carefully back to the house.

  * * *

  Jack had got up especially early today in order to be finished, and bathed, in time for the planned dinner. He couldn’t remember when he had looked forward to a Christmas Day as much as he did this one. Christmas had always been a day much like any other in Markham Manor. When his mother had been alive, he had vague recollections of fraught Christmas dinners in the formal dining room, which inevitably deteriorated into another violent argument between their parents. After his mother had died, his father preferred to spend the entirety of Christmas in a state of constant inebriation, but then again, as he was so regularly in that state, it had not exactly been a surprise. He couldn’t remember presents or games, and the Warriner brothers had barely acknowledged the significance of the day in the years since. It was just another day of sweat and toil.

  This time, there was an unmistakable atmosphere of excitement in the house which dragged him along with it, whether he wanted it to or not, and that came directly from Letty. The woman was determined to have a proper Christmas and had roped his brothers into her plans. Entertainments were planned, every nook, cranny and surface in the great hall was bursting with sprigs of holly and the festive aroma of cinnamon and baking had tickled his nostrils whenever he set foot in the kitchen. Joe and Jacob had been talking about it for days and even Jamie appeared a little cheered by the prospect. />
  All three of his brothers had quietly explained to him that there would be presents, all homemade and inexpensive, and that he should probably acquire something nice for Letty. After racking his brains for ideas and having no talent for making anything at all, he was quietly confident he had found her something nice although it was not homemade. It also, in all probability, would earn him a sound ribbing from his brothers. But she deserved it regardless. A small token of his gratitude for all of the work she had done in his home and for bringing the old place alive these last few weeks. He already knew Markham Manor would feel cold and empty when she left. He felt cold and empty himself knowing that day was rapidly drawing near.

  Since their last conversation, she had resolutely, but politely, avoided him. Not that Jack could blame her. With the benefit of hindsight, he could see he had been dismissive and harsh, and a huge part of him bitterly regretted it. At the time, he had hoped to nip their inappropriate attraction for one another in the bud. He had been convinced Letty was unsuited to the life he could offer her. After witnessing her conquer Satan during the storm, he was prepared to concede he had unfairly underestimated her, which then led to him wondering if he had made a terrible mistake. Perhaps, at the time, he should have welcomed her tentative suggestion that there could be more between them? Jack still couldn’t get over her admission that his kisses had driven her out of her mind. Only a fool would turn down such a wonderful woman, which meant, as he had long suspected, he was the biggest fool to ever walk the earth.

  However, in view of her new reluctance to have anything to do with him, and her constant excited chatter about her impending return to Mayfair, it was probably for the best. Even if he had succumbed to temptation, she would have come to her senses eventually and regretted him—regretted them—and he was not certain he could bear that. It was better to extinguish all hope than to have to witness her inevitable disgust of him.

  He hoped this little memento might make her eventually come to remember her time with him fondly, but he suspected once he was out of sight, and she was surrounded by her sort of people, Jack would be out of her mind. Ironic, really, when he was slowly going out of his. Good grief, she had made him utterly pathetic!

  Jack dragged on a clean shirt and popped his gift safely in his pocket before heading downstairs. His brothers were already seated at the formal dining table, each with their hair combed and wearing their Sunday best. Dishes filled with potatoes and a steaming array of vegetables covered the linen-draped table. Where had she found a tablecloth? Jack never knew they possessed one. It all looked, and smelled, quite splendid. He scanned the room quickly for Letty, which typically, Jamie noticed straight away.

  ‘Letty has gone to get the goose,’ he explained, starting to rise. ‘I should probably help her. That bird is heavy.’

  Jack quickly stepped in. ‘I will go.’ It might be his only opportunity today to see her on her own and give her his inappropriate gift away from prying eyes. He walked briskly towards the kitchen and stopped dead.

  Letty was wearing a dress.

  Jack had never seen her in dress before, aside from the one ruined, soaked one she had arrived in which didn’t count, and the unexpected sight of it was quite overwhelming. She turned towards him and he watched her green eyes widen with surprise.

  ‘Oh! Hello, Jack.’

  Her golden curls were arranged on top of her head, exposing the swanlike curve of her neck. The bodice of her dress was cut in a scoop. The merest hint of cleavage rose above it; acres of creamy, alabaster skin were on display for his greedy gaze to feast upon. Even the sight of her bare arms, beneath the feminine capped sleeves, reminded him that he was a man and she was a woman. A very beautiful woman. A beautiful and very passionate woman. Instinctively, and completely beyond his control, his groin tightened and Jack was grateful that, for once, he had put on a coat.

  ‘I’ve come to carry the goose.’

  His voice came out gruff, angry. Hardly festive. And he had no idea what to do with his hands. Why now, after all of this time, had she decided to finally finish making the blasted dress? Letty in breeches was a temptation. Letty in a gown was pure torture.

  ‘Here it is.’ She smiled tightly and gestured to a huge platter on the table. ‘If you carry that in, I shall bring the gravy.’

  She picked up the gravy boat and briskly manoeuvred around him to lead the way, clearly keen not to be left alone with him. With a sinking feeling, Jack heaved the platter into his arms and trailed after her. The view was almost as breathtaking from the rear. The neckline of the gown dipped low, showing the delicate shape of her shoulder blades and the velvety skin on her back. The fabric draped along the contours of her body, highlighting the womanly flair of her hips and the juicy peach of her bottom as it swayed before him. Jack gripped the platter for grim death, fearing his stupid knees might buckle from sheer lust, sending her lovely Christmas dinner crashing to the ground.

  They sat at the table. As far as Jack could see, the impact of Letty in a gown had no effect on the others. Either they had already seen her and recovered from the shock or the only man she had the power to bewitch was him. To his consternation, his brothers insisted he carve the bird as the head of the household, effectively putting him on display when he was in no fit state to be so. Having a throbbing bulge in his breeches, obviously he made a hash of it. Stupid, stupid, uncultured, clumsy fool! It would have been more fitting if he had simply torn the goose limb from limb with his bare hands like the most uncivilised of savages.

  Conversation flowed around him and Jack did his best to join in, only his eyes kept drifting towards Letty as he picked at his food and chewed without tasting it.

  ‘What is the first thing you are going to do when you get back to town, Letty?’ Jacob kept asking for titbits of society gossip because that world intrigued him. Each one served to remind Jack he was unworthy of her.

  She shrugged her slim shoulders and beamed at his brother. ‘I don’t know. Something frivolous, I suppose, like shopping on Bond Street.’ Jack could have sworn he saw her eyes flick to his defiantly on the word frivolous, but it was so fleeting he might have imagined it. ‘Actually, the truth is I am going to build a home for foundlings. It breaks my heart when I see those lonely children huddled on the street begging for scraps because they have no one to care for them.’ The passion in her tone humbled him. ‘I have visited some of the orphanages in town and they horrify me. The children are treated like prisoners, as if they have committed some heinous crime rather than suffered the death of their parents. I want to create something different. Not a cold institution, but a home with a heart. My children will be taught to read and trained to earn a decent living when they are finally old enough to go out into the world. I don’t want them having to resort to crime or the worst sort of menial work in order to eke out a living.’

  It was all so worthy and he realised, with shame, something too close to her heart. Most people would see only her money and not the fact that she was an orphan.

  ‘Well, I think that is admirable,’ Joe said, obviously impressed. ‘I should like to see it when it is built, Letty.’

  ‘You must come and visit me, and I shall take you to see it myself.’

  She was only being polite, but Jacob jumped at the invitation. ‘We would love to. Can I come and visit you during the Season, too?’

  Letty patted his arm affectionately. ‘Of course. I shall have you escort me to all the superficial balls, parties and soirées I attend.’ This time Jack was certain that her eyes flicked towards him with undisguised hostility before she grinned back at his brother. ‘You can charm all of the young ladies.’

  ‘As if an eligible young lady of the ton would look twice at him!’ Joe scoffed just before he popped the last fluffy roast potato into his mouth.

  ‘I believe I would cut quite a dash there,’ said Jacob in his usual good-natured, slightly arrog
ant way.

  ‘With your roguish charm, I fear for the hearts of the ladies, but then again I believe you would all cut a dash there. Three handsome brothers.’ Another pointed look of disgust in Jack’s direction as she deliberately cut him out. ‘What young lady could resist you? One twirl around the dance floor and they would all be smitten.’

  ‘Then I’m done for,’ said Jamie wryly. ‘My twirling days are over.’

  ‘Ah, but, Jamie, you don’t need to twirl. Once I casually drop into the conversation that you are a returned war hero, the women will swarm around you like flies around honey. The same goes for you, Joe. There is something about a learned doctor which ladies adore.’

  ‘Will you introduce us to your dashing Duke as well?’ Jacob said this without so much as a flicker of an eyebrow, but Jack was no fool. It had been a jibe designed to get a rise out of him. Ever since the night of the storm, all three of his brothers regularly pumped Letty for information about her Duke. Probably in a thinly veiled attempt to get him to show them he was jealous. He let the barb slide, as he had all the others. They could not understand why he resisted Letty—but then Joe and Jacob had been so young when their mother had died, so he doubted they remembered how living here, isolated in this desolate, crumbling prison, had ultimately destroyed her.

  ‘I should be honoured to introduce you to the Duke of Wentworth. I am certain he would insist on meeting my brave rescuers without my having to prompt him.’

  Jack forced himself to swallow the mouthful of food which had suddenly turned to chalk dust in his mouth. To hear Letty speak, the man was a paragon of virtue and the most perfect example of a proper society gentleman. Yesterday, he had endured the lengthy tale of how the illustrious Duke of Wentworth filled his splendid mansion with the most exquisite objets d’art. Soon, he would add Letty to his collection and Jack would hate him more than he did already.