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Seductive Lies

Page 12

by Colleen Connally


  “There would have been no need. I doubt I would have been a topic of conversation,” he responded, challenging her.

  There had been no need. Harriet had never mentioned Arthur by name to Aunt Eleanor. A realization surfaced in her that Aunt Eleanor may well have known whose child Victoria was.

  “Mrs. Whitmore,” Arthur said. “May I?”

  Arthur offered his arm. Harriet hesitated. She glanced over at Carlisle, simmering at his seeming compliance to Arthur. He made no attempt to come to her aid. Reluctantly, she accepted. For goodness’ sake, it was only across the green.

  “I will see you at the sack race, Mr. Padgett,” Harriet said simply, not looking back. She dared not.

  Harriet walked beside Arthur, smiling and acknowledging her neighbors along the way… until she noticed Arthur had diverted from their path. Her hand dug into his arm.

  “What do you think you are doing?” she murmured under her breath.

  He smiled at her, but did not halt their stroll until he stood before an open carriage. “I beg your indulgence, Harriet. I have taken the liberty of arranging a brief moment to hold a private conversation with you. You have to understand the need.”

  He gave her no time to reply. “Get in,” he bade gently. “I have already made the necessary arrangements to excuse your presence. It seems you developed an awful headache. In my goodness, I offered to take you back to Bagden Manor so the others might still enjoy the festivities. I assure you that Mrs. Spencer will cover nicely for you.”

  He stood firm with his hand extended to help her up the step. He stared at her with his pale blue eyes gleaming. Illusions she held no feelings for him were quickly dispelled under his gaze. Why had he chosen to interfere with her life again?

  Grudgingly, she climbed into the carriage. He sat beside her and lifted the reins. He headed down the road toward Bagden Manor. He took a detour around the lake, halting only when he found a secluded spot by a grove of trees.

  Arthur stepped down and wrapped the reins around a branch of a stout tree. “Come, Harriet. You can’t believe I wish you any harm. I want only to talk with you privately. I would be grateful if you would only listen.”

  Harriet looked around. She would gain nothing by refusing. She stepped down unassisted.

  “I see no purpose to a talk, but it seems I’m at your mercy. I ask only that you make it quick. I risk my reputation...one that I have worked hard to obtain. Or perhaps that is your intention. Is it, Arthur? Have you come to disgrace me and acknowledge my daughter after I have claimed another as her father?”

  He grinned at her, setting his hat on the seat. “I have no intention of disgracing you, my dear. You must know I admire you greatly. You have done well. I do understand your concern, but know I came only to see that you are happy and to meet my child.”

  “Do not go near her,” Harriet snapped with fire. “I warn you, Arthur, I will not allow you to sweep her away. She is mine!”

  “Calm yourself,” he said slowly, methodically. “I have no desire to take my daughter away from her mother. Do you think me a monster?”

  “I have tried not to think of you at all.”

  “I don’t blame you, although you have never been far from my thoughts.”

  She stiffened and stepped back. He was trying to weave his web… the way he used to make her forget everything except him and his desires.

  “Don’t, Arthur,” she said curtly. “I’m not the same person I was before. You don’t know me like you think you do. I have worked hard to build this life I have. It’s a good one. One in which you have no part.”

  Arthur sighed heavily. “You have every right to feel that way, but understand I’m not the same, either. When your Mr. Padgett called upon Carlisle, I saw an opportunity I could not resist. Surely, you won’t deny me my right to see my child.”

  Shaking her head, Harriet pressed her lips together. She said, “I have only learned about your wife. You have my deepest sympathy.”

  Arthur’s steely blue eyes flashed at her, exposing, for a moment, pain. “It is not why I am here, Harriet. I don’t want your sympathy.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  “I came to see Victoria.”

  She forced a laugh. “I don’t believe you. You don’t know the first thing about children, much less a daughter. If it’s a relationship you seek, it’s not going to happen if I have anything to say about it. You know I’m to marry…”

  “That is what I hear.” He snorted in mild disdain. “I have met your Mr. Padgett. A true gentleman. But if you believe I would allow you to take a step without fully assessing the situation, you are mistaken. It is my daughter who will be affected.”

  “There is no concern,” she retorted. “Mr. Padgett is quite respectable and holds to honor. Victoria will have a good future. She will have all she needs and will grow up… respectable.”

  “And she wouldn’t if it was known I was her father?”

  “I don’t need to answer that question. You know well the answer,” she said coolly. “What did you expect? That I would fall back in your arms? Cry and beg you to take me back?”

  “I see that the mere thought of that suggestion infuriates your sensibilities.”

  His eyes raked over her. Warmth flooded her face at his audacious stare. Shaking her head, she whispered weakly, “Arthur, you need to understand that the moment I left you, there was no going back. Not then, not now.”

  Arthur stepped forward. So close, his scent filled her. Something stirred within her, a realization of an ache renewed in her heart that could not be appeased by her denials. She had to get away from him.

  Harriet spun on her heel, having every intention of running from Arthur… running all the way back to the manor if necessary. Arthur would have none of it. He seized her arm and wheeled her into his arms.

  A gasp of astonishment escaped Harriet. He gave her no time to react. His arms rounded her and molded her body to his. His mouth found hers, and for a moment something too strong to fight won the battle within her. She responded to him.

  Eagerly, his lips devoured hers, rescinding every logical thought except the raging need escalating within her. Every fiber in her body yearned for him… his touch, his kisses...

  Slowly, a voice emerged within her. He had betrayed her… tricked her… hurt her beyond measure. Victoria. Nothing came before Victoria.

  Harriet pushed back against Arthur’s chest. “No, no, don’t touch me.”

  “Harriet, come back to me,” he pleaded. Reaching over, he caressed her cheek. “There is nothing to keep us apart now.”

  “It can’t be,” she whispered in a trembling voice. She grasped his hand to halt his actions. “What we had is over.”

  “I need you,” he said in a ragged whisper. He took her by her shoulders and forced her to look at him. “No words can convince me you don’t care. Even after all this time, you still hold feelings toward me.”

  Harriet wrenched free. She hissed at him, “You arrogant cad! You still think of nothing but your own needs.”

  “Dammit, Harriet,” Arthur swore. “There is nothing to keep us apart. I’m free.”

  “Free,” she repeated in an icy voice. “Free to do what? Marry me? I doubt that is your plan. Then what of Victoria? Do you not think I know what gentlemen usually do with their illegitimate children! They hide them. Is that your plan? To send Victoria away to some warm and respectable couple to be raised?”

  “You’re wrong. Trust me.”

  “Trust you? I did once. I won’t make that mistake again. There is too much at stake. Victoria is the only thing that matters to me. Do you understand? Leave me alone. Leave Victoria alone. We don’t need you or want you.”

  Harriet ignored his pleas to get into the carriage. She walked back to the manor alone.

  Chapter Eight

  The Viscount of Daneford waited on the last step of the veranda. He was eager to begin the day. He glanced over his shoulder. No sign of Carlisle. Strange. Carlisle usuall
y waited on him for their morning fishing venture.

  He turned back toward his destination, where a thick bank of fog enveloped the lake. Perfect fishing weather. Arthur stepped down into a slight breeze which stirred the mist. He would wait. Breathing in the brisk morning air, he needed this. Refreshing. Rejuvenating.

  He had never imagined the peace he had found in the short time he had been in Danbe Dale. For so long, he had fought for a semblance of meaning to his life. Here it seemed an escape from the world that had collapsed upon him.

  Granted, Harriet ignored him and made it clear to him she tolerated his presence only for appearances. She had yet to make her intentions public concerning Mr. Padgett. She hesitated. With that hesitation, hope emerged.

  Over the last weeks, he had been able to observe his daughter… from a distance. One fact Harriet had right. He didn’t know the first thing about children. He had no desire for the interaction, but he would not ignore his obligation. He would see to his daughter’s needs and offer her into Society when she came of age, ensuring her acceptance by the ton.

  As far as children went, he had concluded that Victoria was indeed a charming child. A headful of thick golden curls, large expressive eyes which turned color depending on her mood, from a hazel to a green—she had a way about her. She had the whole of the household wrapped around her finger.

  His concern about his child dealt with her welfare. Interacting with the child was a totally different matter. He was content knowing Victoria was safe and happy.

  Behind him, he heard movement, heavy boot footsteps, and a fluttering of tiny imprints along the veranda's stone.

  "Uncle James, Uncle James, I can carry my fishing pole."

  Arthur turned. Victoria walked...skipped...beside Carlisle, who had his hands full of fishing equipment. That mutt of Victoria’s ran on her heels, barking. Walking out the French door, Miss Blake, her nanny, followed with a basket and blankets.

  "Good morning, Arthur. You will have to excuse my tardiness. I was waylaid outside my chamber by this young fisherman. Seems she has observed our morning fishing trips," Carlisle said, fumbling hopelessly with the fishing poles and bait. The next instant, the whole of his contents in his arms fell down the steps landing at Arthur’s feet.

  "You know, Carlisle, you could have had help carrying all of this," Arthur said. He bent down to help pick up the poles. A little hand picked up the smaller pole at the same time.

  "Excuse me, m' lord." Victoria curtsied as well as she could with a fishing pole in her hand, almost tripping over herself when her dog, Prince, jumped on her. Giggling, she patted her dog and ran down the lane.

  Arthur's eyebrow rose slightly, but said nothing. He gestured for Carlisle to proceed. The solace he sought in the early morning hours had been invaded.

  Arthur took a deep breath, holding back the words simmering in his throat. It was the third time in the last ten minutes that damn dog jumped into the water. Of course, Victoria had thrown a stick for Prince to retrieve.

  Victoria's interest in fishing soon waned. She held the pole for five minutes, screeched when he put the bait on her hook, and asked when they were going to catch a fish. Though, she showed no interest in returning back to the manor with Miss Blake.

  "Patience, Arthur,” Carlisle suggested, casting his line back out in the water. “I thought this would give you an opportunity to get to know Victoria better than just watching her from across a room.”

  “She is a wonderful child,” Arthur said, looking over at Victoria. “She will be a handful, to be sure. Understandable, she is mine. Though, I believe she isn’t destined to be a fisherman.”

  “I doubt any child at her age is.”

  “Then why the deuce did you bring her with you this morning?” Arthur muttered under his breath.

  “Because she wanted to come,” Carlisle replied. He lowered his pole and paused. “When I come to visit, I make time for Victoria. She expects it. I haven’t spent any time with her this trip. It’s important to her. I thought it should be for you. What if you don’t see her again until she’s an adult?”

  Arthur laughed. “You jest.”

  “No, Arthur. What do you expect is going to happen after Harriet marries Mr. Padgett?”

  Arthur stepped around and faced Carlisle. “I’m not so sure that is going to occur. It hasn’t been mentioned since our arrival. I believe…”

  Carlisle shook his head. “Only because Harriet has postponed the announcement.”

  “Don’t be absurd. Why would she do that if she is planning to marry Mr. Padgett? She would flaunt it in my face.”

  “Would she?”

  “What? You are telling me that she is waiting until I leave…”

  Carlisle did not reply. The silence spoke for him.

  “So, she thinks I will cause a scene?”

  “Perhaps not a scene, Arthur, but you do have a way about causing issues when things you don’t go your way,” Carlisle answered. He nodded toward Victoria, whose attention was drawn to a small puddle. “Maybe you should use this time to come to some closure. Your suspicions haven’t played out. You can find acceptance that Harriet is happy here. Give to your daughter a memory to hold… for you to hold. It would be for the best.”

  Arthur peered over at his daughter. He stared at her as the truth sank in. She smiled up at him. He returned it.

  “Miss Victoria, what do you have planned for the rest of the day?”

  * * * *

  With a nervous glance, Harriet surveyed the foyer before she descended down the stairs. Mr. Padgett had been announced for dinner. She sighed heavily. She so dreaded this evening. Reprimanding herself, she had never considered herself a coward, but the thought crossed her mind to feign an illness.

  Arthur had crossed a line. Mr. Padgett… Benjamin… had bent her ear all afternoon about the situation. His patience wearing thin, he pressed her to confront Arthur. She wanted nothing more than to pass that duty back to M—Benjamin. He had been the one to invite Arthur to Danbe Dale, not her.

  “His action is too forward, Mrs. Whitmore. It will cause talk. I don’t know how he is used to doing things in London, but it is not how we do things here. I fear it has reached the point where it may be best to suggest their return to London,” Mr. Padgett observed brusquely. “You need to address the matter immediately.”

  “I believe you make too much of the gift. It is only a show of his appreciation for our hospitality,” Harriet countered. “If you have an issue, perhaps you should express your concern with Lord Daneford. He knows our circumstance. It would be acceptable.”

  “I believe it is an issue that you need to address, Mrs. Whitmore. As I am to dine with you this evening, you can do so then.”

  The inflection in his tone revealed an annoyance, but his meaning was clear. She would have to deal with Arthur.

  Mr. Padgett… Benjamin… oh, good Lord, she was about to marry a man she couldn’t call by his first name! Harriet sensed that her intended was not entirely pleased with the extended presence of Lord Daneford.

  Much to her consternation, she discovered Mr. Padgett had a side to his personality she had yet to observe. Her spirit rebelled against being told what to do in such an abrupt manner. Then she remembered from which his annoyance dwelled—Arthur. She squelched her growing irritation.

  How could she tell her future husband it was much safer for her to interact with Arthur the least amount of time possible! Despite her anxiousness, she managed to maintain an outward show of calm.

  Taking the utmost care with her appearance, Harriet donned a soft white muslin gown for the evening. High-waisted, the material clung to her body in such a way it highlighted her natural body outline. A Cerulean blue bordered the bodice and sleeves and coordinated with her shawl she had draped around her arms. Sadie pulled back her headful of curls with a matching ribbon, freeing delicate spirals to frame Harriet’s face. Confident she presented herself in a respectful and pleasing manner, she proceeded down the stairs.

&
nbsp; Harriet joined the party in the drawing room. Mr. Padgett, in conversation with Aunt Eleanor, stood upon her appearance, but it was Arthur who with one glance dissolved all her poise. Standing by the fireplace beside Carlisle, she felt his eyes glide over her, rousing feelings she thought dormant.

  “Ah, our beautiful hostess has arrived,” Arthur said with laughter gleaming in his eyes. “Enchanting as always.”

  Taunting Mr. Padgett without question, Harriet recognized Arthur suspected her intended’s frustration. Exasperated, she yielded to the formalities dictated by etiquette. She gave Arthur a small curtsy.

  “Come, Harriet.” Aunt Eleanor gestured for Harriet to sit beside her. “I was telling Lord Daneford that he has made a friend for life with Victoria.”

  Harriet looked questioningly at Mr. Padgett. Holding an empty glass, he lowered his gaze and motioned to the footman. He sat in his chair like a displeased schoolmaster. She said nothing while his glass was replenished with brandy.

  “She has the makings of quite a little horsewoman, like her mother.” Arthur chuckled. “She asked me whether the pony was going to grow as large as my mount.”

  “Mrs. Whitmore is a horsewoman?” Mr. Padgett queried, drawing himself up straight in his chair. “I was unaware of that fact.”

  “Why, one of the best I’ve seen,” Arthur replied, his eyes gleaming devilishly. “Don’t tell me you haven’t showed off your talents, Mrs. Whitmore?”

  “There has never been the opportunity,” Harriet said curtly. “I am not a child anymore, Lord Daneford. I have responsibilities. Moreover, our stables hold only a couple of horses for the carriage. Nothing more.” She paused for a moment, looking over at Mr. Padgett and back to Arthur. “As you have broached the subject, the matter of the pony for Victoria… I’m afraid she won’t be able to keep such a gift.”

  “There is a reason, I assume,” Arthur said in undaunted spirits.

  “It should be obvious, Lord Daneford. It is a highly inappropriate gift for the child. She is three years old.”

 

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