by Carrie Lomax
“He’s seen you. Let’s go.”
But Edward had other ideas. He abandoned his partner mid‐step, leaving her sputtering in astonishment. No one noticed as two nobodies, sisters tangentially related to minor aristocracy, ducked through the crowd. By the time anyone realized where he was headed, the sisters were back at their grandmother’s side.
“Girls?” They were brought up short not far away by the baroness, who waved them over. Viola glanced behind them. There was no sign of Edward. They dutifully went to greet a new acquaintance, a short, plump woman in an elegantly beaded gown of pale blue and black trim turned to them.
“You have not yet met my granddaughters, Miss Harper Forsythe and Mrs. Viola Cartwright.” Gran stumbled over the commonness of Viola’s married name. There were no Smiths or Butlers or Wrights of any sort among the aristocracy. Their names referenced great lands or great battles, or entire countries. Not lowly carts.
The grand lady nodded.
“A pleasure, Miss Forsythe, Mrs. Cartwright. My nephews will be delighted to dance.”
Behind the duchess, the crowd of party-goers parted like waves of the red sea. A gleaming crown of brown hair appeared, towering over everyone in his path. Dancers scrambled. Footmen stopped cold, their trays tilting sideways until glasses slid to the floor in smash of glass. Ladies gasped.
Harper grinned.
Gran looked pleased. She clapped two gloved hands together. “Yes! Now is the time for dancing.”
She was cut off by the abrupt arrival of a very large, very put‐out-looking Edward. Harper’s smile spread stupidly wide as his big shadow suddenly loomed over them. Gran’s eyes went wide as she craned her neck back to peer up…and up. Even Harper had forgotten how very tall Edward was.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded bluntly. Harper half‐feared, half‐hoped that he would simply sling her over his shoulder and walk away.
“Edward, may I introduce you to my grandmother, Baroness Landor?” Harper said a little breathlessly.
“A pleasure, madam. Excuse us. I have business to discuss with your granddaughter.” He took Harper by the elbow, not gently, and began steering her away.
“I cannot imagine what it might be,” the nonplussed baroness replied. Her eyebrows rose so high they threatened to pop right off her forehead.
“When she arrived in London, and how soon we’re to be married.” With that, Edward grabbed Harper’s hand and dragged away.
Chapter 18
It was not quite as barbaric as flinging her over his shoulder, but she had no doubt what the roomful of party-goers would say about it. Harper did not resist. Cool night air touched her skin, immediately followed by the hot expanse of Edward’s hand on her cheek, and his fiery lips claiming hers.
Harper pushed him away. Edward uttered a low growl of frustration.
“I am ecstatic to see you, too, Edward, but this is only going to make things worse.”
“I don’t care.” He consumed her lips with a kiss. This time, she met him more than halfway, feeling drunk on the feeling of escape, of promise.
“Did you mean it?” she asked when she could catch a breath. “You still want me for your wife?”
“Harper. What makes you think I changed my mind?” he demanded, his damaged voice unique and beloved.
“I never heard from you after I left,” she said, in between desperate embraces.
“Nor I, you.”
They were causing an awful scandal, but Harper could not bring herself to regret a moment of their freedom together. The consequences would be dealt with in good time. She had no doubt that they would be dire indeed.
“I heard about the asylum closing, but I didn’t know where you’d gone. Why didn’t you come to me?” Edward asked, clutching her close as though he would never let her go.
“After the way we parted, I didn’t know if you still wanted me. My options were to marry the new proprietor or come to London and try to reconcile with my grandmother.” She made a face.
“Is he that bad, or is your grandmother?”
“My grandmother has her good points, I suppose. Miller, however, has none. I never liked the way he dealt with patients. He’s cruel.” Harper didn’t like the feeling that she was keeping secrets from Edward, so she confessed, “He kissed me once.”
“I’ll rip his face off and feed it to him.” Edward nibbled his way hotly down her neck.
“Throwing a clump of horse dung at him was sufficient violence.”
Edward threw back his head and laughed.
“Shh! Someone will hear you, and I’ll be ruined.”
“I’ll make you a countess. Surely that takes away some of the sting.”
Harper gazed at him searchingly.
“You know your father would never stand for it.”
“My father’s plans for me, and my own ideas for the future, do not necessarily coincide,” Edward said. “The only way he can punish me for not being the son he idealized all these years is to have me institutionalized. He uses it as a threat, but that doesn’t mean that he will act upon it. If we are to withstand whatever he and Richard throw at us, you must believe this with your whole heart. You never took advantage of me. In fact, you were quite maddeningly proper in maintaining your distance as much as possible—to the point of leaving me when you thought it was best.”
“Edward, I’ll never feel entirely at ease with how we came to meet. I should never have encouraged you.”
He laughed. “You didn’t. You spent every moment of every day trying desperately to fend me off. It was a valiant effort but doomed to failure. You alone never feared me. You are the one woman in England who sees the man inside the beast. I want to deserve you.”
“Edward, you don’t have to deserve me.” The sounds of pursuit were catching up to them. With a worried glance at the French doors behind them, Harper curled deeper against his warm body as she tried to absorb his touch into her very soul. “Running off during a party is not going to help our cause.”
“You are mine,” he growled. His hand cupped the back of her neck.
“You are mine,” she whispered, tugging the fingers of her left glove free to reveal the hair ring Edward had given her.
They were interrupted by a scuffling sound at the door.
“Harper! Are you out there?” Viola’s dark form entered stealthily, locking the door again behind her.
“My, you waste no time, Lord Northcote,” she commented, observing Harper’s dishevelment. “I am Harper’s sister. Introductions were a bit rushed. You have no idea the hue and cry you’ve caused. The baroness is beside herself. The curtains fell over the balcony when you came outside, so with luck, we ought to be able to sneak you back inside. Your lordship, if you will kindly return to the ballroom via the garden, I shall be most obliged.”
Harper straightened her crushed gown and patted her hair back into place with shaking fingers.
“Well, now they’ll have to let us marry,” she remarked optimistically.
“I wouldn’t count on it.” Viola frowned. “Briarcliff says he’ll disown Edward before he ever consents to a marriage, which has Gran apoplectic. She swears she would never permit her granddaughter to marry such a beast.”
Edward swore.
“I won’t let them stop us,” Harper declared.
Viola leaned over the balcony. “It’s a twenty-foot drop into a hedge. Can you get down safely?”
Harper laughed. Edward’s disbelief was plain on his face.
“I expect so,” he muttered.
“Am I missing out on some great jest?” Viola asked, plainly put out. Edward cast a longing look at Harper. Then he sliped over the balcony rail as stealthily as a shadow. Viola’s eyes widened. “The stories were true!”
Harper’s heart was so light she might float away.
“Yes. They’re true, or partially so.”
“Quickly, then. You’ll have to tell me everything later.” Viola grabbed Harper’s arm. She unlatched the glass-paned
French doors and they slipped through the gauzy curtains. The ballroom had turned stifling hot, so they left the doors unlatched behind them. The sisters made it only a few steps before their grandmother swooped in on them like an avenging hawk.
“Thank heavens you’re safe!” the baroness exclaimed. “This is a disaster. Who could have known that monster would latch onto an innocent young lady at a perfectly proper party?”
Harper experienced a pang of regret that she’d caused the old woman distress. For all her overbearing gruffness, Gran had taken them in without question, clothed them and given them an opportunity to improve their lives. The least she could have done was not spoil the woman’s efforts on their first night out.
“To be fair, Grandmother, Lord Edward and I did have some prior acquaintance. Undoubtedly, he was pleased to see a familiar face,” she said with all the contrition she could muster.
“About that. You made no mention of a prior acquaintance.” The baroness narrowed her eyes. “Come. We shall call the carriage, and then I want a full recounting of how you know the most notorious man in London.”
Harper sketched the story of how she had come to know Lord Edward. When she finished, the baroness was silent for several minutes.
“Assisting. I see. Well, we can hardly tell the truth about your so‐called work. It would raise unhelpful questions about your background, and you do not need any further disadvantages in your quest for a husband, any husband.”
“My quest?”
“Your quest. Unmarried women are a blight upon any household. They cause endless fuss and bother, not to mention severe headaches.” The baroness rubbed her temples.
Harper could only look away guiltily.
“I could marry Edward,” she suggested.
The baroness laughed, not kindly. “Oh, yes, that would do nicely for you. But you cannot imagine that a low connection is what the earl has in mind for the future mistress of Briarcliff.”
“Are we so low? Surely the Landor family hold some stature in society.”
Gran looked apoplectic. “That you have to ask indicates the depth of your ignorance. Lord Northcote, as you shall refer to him henceforth, would be well positioned to marry a duke’s second or third daughter, with an attendant dowry.”
“Yet Harper is right. We aren’t entirely without connections or family. We have you. Perhaps his lordship is unaware of the depth of their attachment. Surely the couple’s feeling ought to factor into a decision. Is there some way to influence him to view the relationship more favorably?” Viola interjected. “Couldn’t you speak with him on Harper’s behalf?”
“I’ve an appointment to speak with the earl first thing in the morning.” Gran cut her off impatiently. “I very much doubt he will prove to be of a mindset amenable to change, but we must try. Certainly, it would be the quickest end to my dilemma of how to get the two of you out of my house in the shortest time possible.” With that, the baroness excused herself and went to bed.
Chapter 19
Harper slept poorly and woke at her usual early time. Her stomach rumbled as she padded downstairs in her morning dress anticipating a large breakfast and thorough perusal of the newspapers, where, undoubtedly, she would find her own name attached to any number of slanderous articles about the Beast of Briarcliff. Out of sorts, Harper nearly snapped when Viola intercepted Harper at the bottom of the stairs and sent the maid to fetch their wraps.
“Why are we riding out so early? Can’t I even have breakfast first?” She glanced longingly into the breakfast room. The newspapers had already been removed. Harper took that as a sign that the news had been plentiful, and mostly bad.
“I would rather go for a ride in Hyde Park, wouldn’t you?” Viola said guilelessly. Her brown eyes slanted sideways.
Harper yawned and glanced at the footman, whose back was turned. She shrugged. The disapproving eyes of the servants made her feel watched and uncomfortable, just as they had at Briarcliff. Suddenly, getting outside into the fresh air wasn’t the worst idea she had ever heard.
Coming down the stairway in the front hall, Harper heard voices, low and urgent. “Briarcliff arrived just before you came down for breakfast.”
Every nerve suddenly electrified, Harper strained for the sound of Lord Charles’ voice. All she could detect was a low rumble, interspersed with the sharper tone of her grandmother.
“I take it the conversation did not begin amicably,” Harper observed, feeling a panicky flutter in her belly.
“We’ll discuss it in the carriage,” her sister replied determinedly, pulling on her gloves. Tense minutes of silence passed as they waited for their vehicle. The groom guided them carefully through the crowded streets the short distance to Hyde Park. Harper felt her senses assaulted by the jangly din of the city streets.
It was a relief to reach the park, with its wide driving paths and lush greenery. The leaves were just beginning to acquire the tints of early fall. Harper released a long breath, thinking wistfully of fall in the country. Her stomach gurgled.
“Here, eat this before your faint.” Viola thrust a roll into Harper’s hand. Inside she had stuffed pieces of ham and cheese.
“Thank you,” Harper mumbled around a mouthful. When she had finished the last bite, Viola told the groom to stop the vehicle. The sisters scrambled down and walked a short distance away from the coach.
At last, they were alone. Still the silence dragged on for long minutes. When she could stand it no longer, Harper turned to her sister. “How bad is it?”
“In a word, terrible.”
Harper set her breakfast on the seat beside her as her appetite waned abruptly. “What now?”
“You tell me, Harper. Yesterday morning I read about the Beast of Briarcliff beating his brother senseless. Last night, I found you in that same man’s arms. You must understand why I have reservations about a match between you and Lord Northcote—if such a thing is even possible. Honestly, if we had anywhere to go, I’d leave right now.”
“What did Briarcliff want?”
“He offered to pay Gran to send you away.”
She nodded. “Do you think she’ll take him up on it?”
“No.”
“I won’t leave him. Edward isn’t like the papers say. If he fought his brother, there was a reason. Richard may have provoked him into an argument to worsen his brother’s reputation.”
“No one is that bad, Harper. How do I know you’re not blinded by affection? What if Edward is dangerous?” Viola asked softly.
“He’s not dangerous to anyone. He’s misunderstood, and he has no patience for society but he’s trying. He really is—just as I am,” Harper pleaded, willing her sister to understand. “Edward and I will rise or fall together.”
Viola bit her knuckle.
“All right,” she said at last.
“What’s all right?” Harper demanded.
“I’ll help you win Edward. On the condition that if I ever see him threaten or harm you, you must withdraw, Harper. Even if it means leaving him.”
“I won’t need to. But what changed your mind?”
“Because I have never seen two people so much in love and so fiercely protective of one another. Edward stalked after you like...like nothing I have ever seen. And you throw yourself in front of him like a human barricade whenever the slightest whisper against him reaches your ears. It is fascinating. I have never seen—or experienced—anything like it.” She glanced away, then back at Harper. “What you have with Lord Northcote reminds me of what Mum and Papa had together. The kind of love that carries you through good times and bad. Not everyone finds that. I didn’t.”
Harper’s eyebrows shot up in two arcs of surprise. It had never occurred to her that Viola, her capable, confident sister, might be lonely. That she might have aspired to something grander, more intense. The morning fall sun beat through the light fabric of her bonnet, sending a prickly bead of sweat down her back between her shoulder blades.
“I detest London. I love E
dward. I just want to be away from here, with him. Yet it is impossible, because if he chooses me, he will lose the life he was meant to have.”
“What if the life he was meant to have was with you?” asked Viola, cocking her head curiously. “Money, status, power... Knowing him as you do, how much do you think Lord Northcote cares about those things?”
“He is obligated to care. Richard will run the estate into the ground if Edward is locked away.”
Viola made an exasperated sound. “So what? It wouldn’t be the first estate to crumble under the mismanagement of an imbecile. Nor should you have so much confidence that Edward is capable of running the earldom competently.”
She stopped short and stared hard at her sister. “It’s you. You care about the power, the estate, and the money. And you are afraid of change, so you want everything or nothing—to marry the future earl and live in bliss or comfort for the rest of your days. Or you want to cherish the memory of what could have been perfect while you wall yourself off from him out of a misguided sense of noble suffering.”
Viola’s words were like a bucket of cold water being dumped on Harper’s head. Chills crept over her skin while her heart beat erratically. Harper had loved Briarcliff nearly as much as she had loved Edward because of what it represented: stability, freedom from want, and a chance to become someone significant. A countess had influence in ways that a doctor never could.
A gasp escaped her lips. “All my work at the asylum...I wanted money and recognition, and I never even admitted it to myself.”
“Good lord, don’t faint, Harper,” Viola said consolingly.
“I am such a crass, craven idiot!” Harper cried. “How was it obvious to everyone but me?”
“It wasn’t obvious at all. We grew up together, Harper. It gives me a different perspective on your motives.”
“Edward knew!” Harper cried, distraught now. “He told me again and again that he didn’t care about the title, but I wouldn’t listen.”
