A Midsummer's Kiss (Farthingale Series Book 4)

by Meara Platt

  “Aren’t you going to tell us what you did to make her cry?” Lily asked again, regaining his attention. He returned Lily’s steady gaze. In truth, all three sisters had edged forward in their chairs and were staring at him.

  He felt as though he were a prisoner being marched to a hangman’s noose. “I kissed her.” There was no harm in letting them know. They were going to find out about it from Laurel or Hortensia soon enough.

  He wasn’t certain why Hortensia had stayed quiet, for he didn’t think the words “silence” or “discretion” existed in the Farthingale vocabulary… except for George’s, perhaps.

  “I assume it wasn’t a genteel kiss on the cheek,” Lily remarked with a snort.

  “Oh, what fun! You gave her one of those kiss-the-slippers-off-a-girl sort of kiss!” Dillie had a soft expression on her face and her eyes took on a dreamy, far away quality. “That’s the way Julian makes Rose feel every time he kisses her. Isn’t it, Rose? You’ve said so many times.”

  Rose blushed.

  “I think I’d want my husband to make me feel that way,” Dillie continued. “I couldn’t accept anything less than his whole heart, because that’s what I would give him in return, all my heart. So, was it that sort of a kiss?”

  He shifted uncomfortably, blaming the discomfort on his leg and not on the fact that he’d probably trampled Laurel’s heart—inadvertently, of course—just as her horse had trampled him. “She might have taken it that way.”

  He expected gasps and recriminations. He’d coerced their sister into an unwanted betrothal and imposed himself upon her, but the three merely exchanged glances and smiled. “I told you so,” Dillie muttered to her sisters and then turned to face him. “Very well, you’ve won us over. We’ll help you.”

  He shook his head, confused. “Why? Because I kissed your sister?”

  Lily continued to regard him as though he were the stupidest man in London, perhaps the stupidest man alive. “Of course not. We’ll help you because you made her cry.”

  Dillie and Rose nodded in agreement. “Agonized, anguished tears.”

  What the hell?

  He was more confused than ever, but he’d been warned by his cousins that women had the power to confound men and make them appear as witless fools. Women spoke another language. It might sound like English, and a man might recognize each and every word as it was articulated, but that didn’t mean he knew what was going on.

  Chances were, he didn’t, for words held one meaning to women and quite another to men.

  He’d never known his mother and had no sisters to confound him, so he’d always wondered what Alex and Gabriel had been talking about. Until this very moment. “Am I missing something here?” Obviously, I am. “I thought you liked your sister.”

  “We love her,” Lily insisted, now looking at him in the same indulgent manner one might look upon one’s not very clever dog when encouraging him to fetch the ball that had just landed at his feet without his noticing.

  He held up his hands in surrender. “And yet you’re happy that I made her cry?”

  Laurel’s sisters exchanged more glances and then must have reached a tacit understanding for Rose to explain this universal mystery to him. “No, Graelem. We’re happy because it is obvious that she likes you more than she cares to admit. You see,” she said kindly because it was also obvious that he couldn’t see beyond his own nose, “she’s overset because she thinks she is betraying Devlin.”

  “Laurel is very loyal. She’s the best friend anyone can ask for,” Dillie continued to explain. “Which is why she’d cut off her right arm before ever betraying a friend, even if it led to her own unhappiness.”

  “Which it will because she values Devlin’s friendship, but she’s falling in love with you,” Rose added.

  “Which is what I suggested she do,” Lily said with a nod, “when Father admitted he was inclined to permit your so-called betrothal to proceed to a Midsummer marriage. What did you say to sway Father’s opinion of you? He was prepared to bludgeon you to death before he met you.”

  Hell if I know. He shrugged his shoulders. “We spoke of Laurel’s horse.”

  “Brutus?” Rose asked.

  Graelem glanced at his busted leg. “Does she have more than one such beast?”

  Dillie shook her head. “No, just the one. He’s magnificent, but temperamental.”

  Just like your sister.

  Lily nodded. “Father wanted him destroyed, he was that angry.”

  “I know. That’s why I offered to take Brutus. I’ll keep him in my care until Laurel is allowed to have him back.” Once more, he shifted uncomfortably at the reminder of that horse. His leg began to twinge. “Laurel loves him, and I—”

  “And you love Laurel!” Dillie interjected. “So you protected Brutus to make the woman you love happy.”

  Her statement was followed by a chorus of eeps and squeals and exclamations of crumpets that had him silently groaning and wishing Napoleon’s army would crash through his door already. “We knew it! Father must have realized it as well. Crumpets!” she squealed again. “You certainly made an excellent impression on him. He never, ever likes any of the young men who come around to the house. He’s very protective of us.”

  Lily turned to her twin. “Now that we know Graelem loves her, how are we going to get Laurel to admit her feelings for him?”

  Dillie pursed her lips. “I don’t know. Rose, what’s your suggestion?”

  “Stop. All of you.” Graelem wanted to be stern and make clear that he wanted no interference, but three sets of big blue eyes filled with hope gazed back at him and the admonishment died before it left his lips.

  Their gazes held not only hope, but acceptance of him, as though he were already a part of the Farthingale family. “This is getting out of hand. Before you turn me into a damn saint, which I’m not, you deserve to know the truth.”

  He’d spent his entire life with old Silas and the rest of his mother’s clan and never felt welcome. To this day he wasn’t certain why Silas had placed that marriage requirement on his inheritance. He wanted to think it was because the old man loved him after all and wanted to see him settle down and raise a loving family. In truth, Silas was probably thinking only of the barony and the need to carry on the Moray line.

  His too small chair creaked as he attempted to lean forward without losing his balance. His leg was not yet able to bend, so he held it out straight and positioned in front of him. “I don’t love your sister.”

  Three sets of blue eyes blinked at him at the same time.

  He’d shocked them, no doubt. But they loved Laurel and he wasn’t about to lie to them about his feelings for her. Perhaps Laurel did love him, in which case he was willing to commit to a real marriage for her sake, but his heart was not at issue here.

  “Oh, dear.” Rose shook her head and sighed. “This is more difficult than we realized. You’re both stubborn and unwilling to admit what you feel for each other.”

  “Nonsense, I—”

  Another girl, who looked remarkably like the twins and could only be Daisy Farthingale, burst into the parlor. “You’ll never guess what happened!” she cried, addressing her sisters and overlooking him, although how anyone could overlook his big, oafish presence was beyond him. “Aunt Hortensia couldn’t hold the secret in any longer. I knew she was going to erupt like Vesuvius spewing on Pompeii. I saw her bubbling and brewing and then boom!” She paused to glance at Graelem. “Hortensia tattled on Laurel to the family elders.”

  Dillie groaned as she popped another piece of ginger cake in her mouth. “Oh, no!”

  “They’re all in father’s library discussing Laurel’s fate as we speak.” She rolled her eyes and sighed. “I listened at the keyhole, of course. Then Pruitt came along and caught me with my ear to the door. He chased me away and berated me for snooping.” She turned to Graelem, forgetting that she had yet to acknowledge his presence. “Don’t you hate it when your butler interferes?”

  Becau
se heaven knows, only Farthingales are permitted to do so.

  Since Daisy wasn’t really looking for an answer, she wasted no time in continuing. “Hortensia described the kiss as wanton. Now, Laurel is too embarrassed to come out of her room.” She glanced at Graelem again. “She and I share a bedchamber now that Rose moved out. I’m Daisy, by the way. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lord Moray.”

  As an afterthought, she bobbed a curtsy.

  “I’ll have a word with your father. None of this is her fault.” Bloody hell. He should have been pleased that Laurel was well and truly trapped, but he felt no joy in making matters worse. He didn’t want her to be sad or humiliated. He just wanted her.

  One of his crutches fell to the floor with a resounding clatter.

  No, he didn’t want her. He wanted the properties that were not entailed and ought to have come with the barony of Moray.

  Love and commitment had nothing to do with this arrangement. However, he was no ogre. Unlike Devlin Kirwood, he’d never use Laurel as his lending bank and he was willing to put into the marriage whatever Laurel needed to make her happy.

  Rose cast him a wry smile. “Wanton? How delicious! Of course, you were completely at fault because my sister doesn’t know the first thing about… well, you know.”

  “I just said I was solely at fault.” He frowned at Rose’s smug expression. Dillie was smirking, and Lily was gazing at him so intently he thought she might be plotting to dissect him like a frog and report her findings to the medical societies. Nothing found between his ears, just a vast, empty cavity where a brain ought to have been.

  The muscles in his jaw tensed. Laurel didn’t deserve any of the treatment she was receiving from him or her family. Yet, he couldn’t let her go.

  Their marriage would stop all the gossip. However, Laurel would be the unhappiest bride ever to walk down a church aisle.

  The twins were staring at him as though about to utter more words of wisdom. He wasn’t about to take advice from a pair of fifteen-year-olds who looked so much alike they gave him a headache. Nor was he going to take advice from Rose who was… what? Maybe a year or two older than Laurel and had pretty much made a wreck of her own courtship, if what Laurel had told him was true about Rose abducting her husband… or had Julian abducted her?

  Graelem had been in pain and not paying close attention.

  “What is it about men that makes them reluctant to take advice?” Lily wondered aloud. “Especially from women.” She perched on the edge of her seat and began to kick her feet out like a child on a swing.

  Graelem sighed and shook his head. “Some of the smartest people I know are women. Most are much smarter than men, for they don’t allow pride and arrogance to get in their way.”

  “See, Daisy,” Dillie said with a grin, “We told you he was worthy. That’s why we must help him. No promises, of course. The choice is ultimately Laurel’s, and we must respect her decision.”

  “We just hope to nudge it in the proper direction,” Lily said.

  Rose laughed. “You’d better get used to having a large, meddlesome family around, Graelem. If Laurel chooses you, she’ll bring all of us along with her.” But her laughter soon faded and she grew serious. “You have competition for Laurel’s affections.”

  “I know. Devlin Kirwood.”

  “We’ve known him a long time. Our families have known each other for years.” Lily frowned lightly. “He’s a ‘gentleman’. He and Laurel have had a sort of understanding for several years now.”

  Graelem noticed the emphasis Lily put on the word as though she considered him anything but a gentleman. “Lily, don’t you care for him?”

  She swung her feet out again, a hint of her consternation. “There’s something cold about Devlin.”

  Daisy shook her head and frowned. “No, he’s very nice.”

  “Oh, he’s nice enough to you and Laurel,” Lily replied before turning her attention back to Graelem. “He dotes on the two of them, particularly Laurel. He’s polite enough to Rose as well. At least, he was until she married, and now he hardly pays her any attention.”

  “Because I’m married now,” Rose said. “It wouldn’t be proper for him to take more than polite notice of me.”

  Lily pursed her lips. “I don’t understand these rules of society. Seems to me that friends should be permitted to remain friends, no matter the circumstances. Isn’t that what friendship is all about?”

  Dillie shook her head. “You’re being logical again, Lily. Unfortunately, society does not work on logic, but on status. Wealth, title, and appearances are all that matter. We’ve gotten off the point.” She turned to Graelem and frowned lightly. “Laurel doesn’t care for society’s rules either, but she feels a sense of responsibility toward Devlin and won’t betray him by marrying you.”

  Graelem arched an eyebrow. “So we’re back to where we started.”

  “Not at all,” Rose said. “But you won’t like what you’ll have to do to win her over.”

  Graelem didn’t like any of it. Damn Silas and his terms of inheritance and damn himself for wanting Moray so badly that he was willing to force Laurel into marriage over it. Was he that much of an unfeeling brute? He didn’t like to think so, but he was. Moray was his and he wasn’t about to give it up.

  Nor was he about to give up Laurel… not after the way she’d kissed him.

  He leaned forward. “Very well, I’m listening. What must I do?”

  Chapter 9

  LAUREL SLEPT FITFULLY and awoke the next morning dreading the stares she was certain to receive from the family members when she walked into the dining room for breakfast. In truth, she had no appetite, and since she was fast discovering that she was a coward, she remained in her bedchamber and rang for Gladys to bring up some tea and biscuits for her.

  She also dreaded seeing Graelem this afternoon, not only because of the kiss she’d instigated for a second time, but because she feared Graelem was right. Why had Devlin never kissed her? Why had she never tried to kiss him? Was it because they’d known each other so long that changing the terms of their friendship was awkward?

  She really needed to speak to Devlin and was about to write him another note when the door opened and Daisy walked into the room they shared. “Oh, good. You’re finally awake. Laurel, are you all right?”

  “I don’t know,” she admitted, scrambling to sit up and giving her sister a quick hug as Daisy sat on the bed beside her. “But I need your help. Did you see Devlin yesterday?”

  Daisy nodded. “No one suspects that I’ve been handing him your letters. He misses you and can’t wait until your punishment is over.”

  “Did he write back to me?”

  “No, he was afraid one of our maids might find where you hid his letters and tattle to Mother and Father. He thought it wiser to convey his sentiments through me.”

  “Nothing in writing to trace back to him.” Laurel frowned. “I suppose it makes sense.” Yet it felt as though he were ashamed of his feelings for her, or being too coy about revealing them. She didn’t think Graelem would have responded in the same manner had the roles been reversed and she obligated to marry Devlin instead of him.

  “Laurel, may I ask you something?” Daisy seemed troubled, which only made Laurel feel worse for involving her in something that might end badly. She didn’t want Daisy punished or somehow hurt for helping her out.

  “Of course you can.” She motioned for her sister to follow her to the cushioned window bench where they could sit more comfortably. Laurel tucked her legs under her and leaned against the window pane that had warmed under the sun’s glare now that the rain had stopped. “What do you wish to ask me?”

  “If you’re so wildly in love with Devlin, then why did you kiss Lord Moray? Rose and the twins are certain that you prefer him to Devlin.”

  Laurel lowered her gaze and proceeded to smooth her nightgown, concentrating on removing a crease that did not exist. “What do you think, Daisy?”

  “I’m not sure
.” She sighed and shook her head. “I adore Dev. We all do. But I also like Lord Moray… Graelem. I can see why you couldn’t help but kiss him. He’s awfully good-looking. But it isn’t just that he’s exceptionally handsome. There appears to be more to him than that. I don’t know him really. But you’ve spent quite a bit of time in his company. Are my instincts about him wrong?”

  “No, they’re quite on the mark. He’s clever, but doesn’t make you feel inferior. He’s big, but doesn’t make you feel small. He’s strong, but never makes you feel intimidated. Quite the opposite, one feels immediately comfortable and accepted when with him.” She sighed again. “I don’t know if what I’m saying makes any sense.”

  Daisy smiled. “It does.”

  She had to be honest with Daisy, indeed with all her sisters. “There is definitely something about him that… I don’t know. The first time I kissed him, I did it to prove that I would hate it. But I didn’t,” she said in a tremulous whisper. “So I had to try again, just to prove that first time had been a mistake.”

  Daisy leaned closer, awaiting her answer. “And?”

  Laurel covered her face with her hands and groaned. “I loved it. But that doesn’t mean I like him. I certainly don’t love him. How can I when he tricked me into this betrothal and now won’t let me out of it?” She dropped her hands and met Daisy’s gaze. “Rakes are known to be excellent at kissing, but it doesn’t mean they care about the girl they’re kissing. They never do, which is why they earn the reputation as rakes.”

  Daisy nodded earnestly. “He didn’t strike me as the sort to have casual affairs. So you think he’s one of those horrid rakehells?”

  “Well, no.” Laurel took Daisy’s hands in hers. “I’m not sure what he is. Or why I like his kisses. I think I’d like Devlin’s kisses even more, but he’s never tried to kiss me. Does that mean there’s something wrong? Am I worrying over nothing?”

  “I know less about such matters than you. There’s no help for it, you’ll have to ask Rose. She’s the only one of us with any experience around men.”