by Dayna Quince
“He’s only here as an escort, Aunt.” Lucy giggled.
“Well, what is the problem? Are you already betrothed, my lord.”
“No.” Dean cleared his throat.
“He is perfect for you, Lucy. Wild and handsome, just like you.”
Lucy turned three shades redder. Although she heartily agreed with her aunt, she didn’t need to have it boldly stated in front of him. He looked supremely uncomfortable.
“That’s enough, aunt. You’ve embarrassed poor Winchester.”
“Ah, he is afflicted with ideas of permanent bachelorhood. I shall do my best to convince him otherwise.”
“I’m sorry.” Lucy mouthed silently to him.
He cracked a smile and nodded.
“I’m so excited you’re here!” Her aunt clapped.
* * *
Later that afternoon, Lucy found him smoking a cheroot on the small terrace at the back of the cottage.
“Still here, I see.”
“I’m not scared away so easily.”
“That’s encouraging.” Lucy leaned back against the wall as he was doing.
He looked sideways at her. “That reminds me. We didn’t finish our discussion this morning in the carriage.”
“What discussion?” Lucy feigned innocence and examined her nails.
“The discussion about your behavior.”
“My behavior? Was it I who—” She stopped. She couldn’t finish the sentence.
He turned to her, leaning one shoulder against the wall. He crossed his feet and folded his arms. “You were saying?”
Lucy gritted her teeth. “I was going to say, it wasn’t I who pinned you to the tack room door and took liberties.”
“Granted, but it is you who wants me to take liberties, and it is you who puts yourself before me like a worm dangling above a hungry fish.”
She turned to face him with a smug smile. “Are you saying you can’t resist me?”
He straightened, taking one more pull on his cheroot and stamping it out with his boot. “That isn’t what I meant.”
“A worm dangling above a hungry fish. Your analogy is awful, but I do believe that is what you meant or you wouldn’t have said it.”
“I misspoke,” he ground out.
Lucy stepped closer and put a hand on the lapel of his jacket. “Shall I test you? Actions speak louder than words, you know.”
He scowled at her. “You can’t test me or any man. We will always take what is offered to us.”
Lucy rolled her eyes. “By that reasoning, if my aunt slipped into your bed tonight, you’d be overcome with animal tendencies?”
“That’s not the same.”
“What if Thea did it? Is age a factor then?”
His scowl deepened. “If you try to slip into my bed tonight or any night, I will drag you out by the ear. Like a child.”
“But you said—”
“You are under my protection. I will not forsake my honor.”
“Now you’re honorable and kind? You’re doing a very poor job convincing me how bad you are for me.”
“Damn it. Have you heard a single word I’ve said? Are you that spoiled, that manipulative, that you disregard my every attempt to convince you that your admiration is not wanted? Has no one ever told you no?”
Lucy stepped back. His words struck a painful chord. “I’ve been told no many times. It’s my father’s favorite word.”
He moved closer to her, so close his forehead almost touched hers. “But has a man told you no. Has a man ever refused your advances?”
“According to you, that is an impossibility.” Lucy returned smartly. “Either I am irresistible—which I’ve never considered myself to be, or it is you who cannot resist me and that scares you. It can’t be both.”
His eyes widened and he stepped back. Lucy would have called it an ‘ah ha’ moment, but his look of astonishment quickly switched to one of anger.
“Even if I wanted to bed you, consider this. Not only would such an event destroy your reputation because there would be no offer of marriage, but it would also destroy the standing of your family and my friendship with your brother—something I hold in very high regard. Are you willing to hurt so many of the people you care about for your selfish desires? Before you answer, let me tell you one thing. I’ve done that very thing, and more than ten years have passed and I still can’t face them. Are you ready to give up everything you love for one brief moment?”
Lucy was about to say yes, but then she clamped her lips shut. The pain etched into his face said far more than his words. What had he done? “No.”
“Good. That is the smartest thing you’ve ever said.” He turned away from her and looked out over the garden.
Lucy watched him wrestle his emotions back into place. She’d never seen him so vulnerable before.
“I’m sorry,” she muttered as she turned away and slipped back into the parlor.
Chapter 13
A week passed. The most boring week of his entire life. Lucy had been on her best behavior. She didn’t smile at him. She didn’t lean in close and say things that set his skin on fire. Instead, she read, she played the pianoforte for her aunt and sang with her angel’s voice. She rode daily, took long walks, and at the end of the evening, she retired early. It should have been heaven, but it was hell. When she wasn’t paying any attention to him, Dean found himself so entranced by her, he could barely walk without bumping into walls. Thea had trumped him in games of chess every evening because, when Lucy played or sang or read aloud to her aunt, he was watching. He was always watching.
Every other day they received a letter about her mother and he watched her read it. This day was no different, but this time, she was not smiling lightly as she read. This time, a line appeared between her brows and she moved her lips as she read. He waited for her to inform them of the trouble, but she only stood and walked to the window.
An afternoon rain began to hammer on the roof while they lingered over tea. Dean set his cup down and went to her side.
“Is something wrong?”
She turned away from him and left the parlor.
“Where has she gone?” Aunt Harriet looked around in confusion. “What is in the letter?”
“I’m sure it’s nothing.” Thea patted her hand.
“Go find her, Winchester!” Harriet demanded. “She mustn’t go outside in this weather.”
Dean frowned and looked out the window. He shouldn’t be the one to comfort her. “She wouldn’t go outside, would she? She clearly wants some time alone.”
Thea shook her head at him.
“She fancies the bench under the arbor when she’s upset.” Aunt Harriet shooed him away.
Dean sighed and went to fetch his great coat. He grabbed an umbrella and ventured out into the rain. The arbor was just out of view of the cottage, and as Aunt Harriet had said, there he found Lucy, shivering on the damp bench.
“You’ll catch your death.” He held the umbrella over her. “You should come inside at once.”
“Please go away.”
She was avoiding looking at him. He crouched down in front of her and peered into her face. Raindrops and tears merged into rivulets down her cheeks.
“I’ve been sent to rescue you. I cannot return without you.” He shrugged out of his coat and swirled it over her head and shoulders. He tried to position the umbrella over both of them, but while his head remained dry, his back did not.
“Come inside on your own, or I will toss you over my shoulder and carry you in.”
He saw her lips twitch. She looked down at him.
His gut tightened.
“I don’t need a hero.”
“I’m not trying to be heroic.”
“And yet here you are, braving the elements to save me from the evil rain.”
He chuckled. “Call me your knight in dripping armor.”
She laughed but then sobered. “I thought she’d be better by now.”
“The doctor said
three weeks.”
“I wanted him to be wrong.” A sob broke through her voice.
“Hold this.” He handed her the umbrella. He stood and bent to scoop her up into his arms.
“What are you doing?” She gasped.
“Rescuing you and myself. My arse is freezing.”
He carried her back into the parlor, but Thea and Aunt Harriet were nowhere to be found. The fire was built up nice and high, so he set her down in front of it and poured her a cup of tea. The pot was fresh and hot. He looked around suspiciously. What was going on here? He shivered, reminded of his wet backside. He poured himself a cup and went to warm himself by the fire.
“What did the letter say?”
She took a sip before answering. “She isn’t worse, but she isn’t better. Dr. Mallock wants to bleed her—the imbecile, but Father and Jonathan refuse. I want to be there.”
“She’s well taken care of.”
“Yes, but if something changes—if I weren’t there to say goodbye…”
The cup shook in her hands. Dean took it from her and set it on the mantle. He stepped close and held her arms then impulsively hugged her, resting his cheek on her head. She was the perfect height for it.
“I would get you there in time. By horse, we could cut the time in half, if not more. But it doesn’t matter because she will be fine.”
She nodded and sobbed. He let her cry, but just as quickly as she had begun, she was finished. He fished his handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to her. She thanked him with a watery smile and dabbed at her remaining tears.
“Your nose is red,” he told her. He didn’t know why, but he found it adorable.
“It does that on occasion.”
He snorted.
“Are you laughing at my nose?”
“It’s cute.” He poked her nose.
She swatted his hand away. “Don’t do that.”
“Did it hurt?” He grabbed her chin and kissed the tip of her nose. “Is that better?”
Color filled her cheeks. He’d touched far more than her nose and yet she turned bright pink now. He began to chuckle.
“Now your cheeks are pink. Do they hurt too?” He kissed one cheek and then the other. They were very chaste kisses. Kisses he’d never given a woman before and yet he no longer felt his cold, damp clothing. He felt warmth in the pit of his stomach, like he’d downed a glass of whiskey.
“What are you doing?” She sighed.
It was a lovely sound, her sigh. He was enjoying himself immensely.
He grabbed her chin again and tipped her face up to examine it. “If you’re not careful, you’ll soon be the shade of a raspberry.”
“I dislike raspberries. They’re sour.”
“Ridiculous, raspberries are delicious. Plump and sweet.” As he said the words, his thumb touched her bottom lip. His gaze dropped to her mouth.
She released another sigh. She was close enough he could taste her breath. He licked his lips and reversed direction. He’d been moments away from kissing her. He let go of her chin and stepped back.
“I’ve got to change.” He paused before turning away from her. “Will you be all right?”
She nodded.
He escaped. He wasn’t running from her but from himself. What happened back there a moment ago was the result of his own traitorous desires.
Lucy pulled his coat tighter around her and breathed in the scent that clung to the inside. Her patience had been rewarded. The entire week she’d done nothing to warrant even a raised brow from him, and look what it revealed? He’d kept his distance but watched her constantly. Now he was kissing her? Those kisses were telling.
Joy bloomed inside her. Her fears that this love was unrequited had sighed their last breath. He wanted her, it was undeniable. It was far from an admission of love, but it was a seed upon which something could grow.
He’d been so tender just now. She felt giddy at the memory of his touch. She entered the hall and hung his coat to dry. She climbed the stairs to her room and found Thea there reading.
“What are you doing in here?”
“There’s a leak in my room.”
“Oh dear. Well, the bed is roomy enough for both of us. What is my aunt up to?”
“She is resting. Do you want to talk about the letter?”
“I don’t need to now. Winchester calmed my fears.”
“He did?”
“Yes.”
“Your aunt is determined to see a match between the two of you. It was her idea to send him to you, and then we left the parlor so you both would be alone when you returned.”
“Well, her tactics are working. I thought he was going to kiss me—well, he did, on my nose and cheeks, but those were nothing compared to the kiss he looked like he wanted to give me. I’d become worried that the affection I felt really was one-sided, but after today…”
“He is stubborn just like you. He has to come to his own conclusions regarding you.”
“I suppose, but restraining myself is difficult.”
“I know, dear. Your aunt and I can tell. What of the letter?”
“Oh! I almost forgot.” Lucy lost some of her joy. “She isn’t worse, but she isn’t better. I was expecting more encouraging news.”
“So soon?”
“That’s what he said more or less.”
“Well, as long as we keep ourselves busy, time will move quicker.”
“Have you heard from your family?” Lucy wondered.
“No, but the season is about to end. It’s a busy time.”
“So it is,” Lucy murmured. She kept judgments about Thea’s family to herself now.
“I did receive a letter from Heather. She returned to Scotland early. She says the season is not as enjoyable without us. She will have to return to debut violet next year.”
“I don’t doubt that. Our Ivy society has dwindled in numbers. I can’t remember the last letter I received from Rose or Charlotte. It worries me.”
“I received a missive from Rose,” Thea admitted.
“When?”
“At the start of the season.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“She asked me not to.” Thea set her book down.
Lucy was hurt. “Why?”
Thea looked down for a moment. “I’m not sure I should say.”
“I don’t understand. I thought we were all friends. We made the Ivy Society to support each other.”
“We are, but our circumstances are vastly different. Heather is a duchess while you and the twins are daughters from wealthy families.”
Lucy had a sinking feeling. “Is she in trouble?”
“No.” Thea sighed. “She is a companion now.”
Lucy chose her words carefully. “That isn’t so terrible.”
Thea looked up at her and rolled her eyes. “From the side of someone who doesn’t have a family to support her and no marriage prospects, it isn’t so lovely. She will never marry. She will forever be indebted to caring for someone.”
Lucy felt like a cad. She couldn’t help the family she’d been born to. She’d never put herself on opposite spectrums from her friends but it seems Thea had.
“She shouldn’t be ashamed,” Lucy murmured and began to change. She didn’t know what else to say. She changed her dress and chose to return to the parlor rather than remain in awkward silence with Thea.
Chapter 14
The awkwardness remained for another week. The house was silent and dull even when the rain departed and the sun returned. Lucy was out for a walk, past the grounds of the cottage garden, and well into the surrounding rural hills. She knew her surroundings, she’d marched these hills with Jonathan many times. The ground was soft from the rain. It squished beneath her feet as she slogged up one hill to its crest. She looked down at the old ruins of a mill. Nothing stood but some stubborn walls, but it was picturesque enough to invite Lucy to sit for a spell.
She carefully picked her way down the slope. Reaching the
bottom, she found the remnants of a stone wall low enough to sit comfortably on. A valley stretched out before her, fresh and green. She tried not to think of bothersome things. She’d done enough of that while at the cottage. She took a deep breath and valiantly tried to clear her mind.
“You shouldn’t be out this far alone.”
It was his voice, of course. She’d been too absorbed with her quarrel with Thea and worry for her mother to consider his silent presence at the cottage. He’d been least in sight after that strange rainy day he’d almost kissed her.
“Did it occur to you I came all the way out here to be alone?”
“Yes, but that doesn’t make it any safer.”
Lucy looked around. “Is there anyone here to hurt me?” she called out.
Silence.
“Are you satisfied? I can find my way back, thank you.”
“You know I won’t leave you here alone.”
She could hear the clop of his horse’s hooves coming down the damp hill. He rode through the ruins slowly, coming up behind her. She didn’t turn to look at him and he didn’t speak. She was determined to ignore him, even though she knew he wouldn’t go away. She was going to sit here and enjoy the view as long as she wished. She’d been a bloody saint for the past two weeks, and at the moment, she didn’t have any more patience.
“I’ve news from your brother.”
“I’ve already read the letter.”
“No, you haven’t. It just arrived.”
Lucy bolted to her feet. Dread filled her. “What did it say?”
He grinned. “You may return home.”
Lucy almost collapsed from relief. She could have sworn the earth under her feet moved. “Thank heavens. She is well then?”
“Well enough to demand your return or come and fetch you herself.”
Lucy giggled. “She is well, then.” She tried to step forward, but her foot had sunken into the mud. She wheeled her arms to regain her balance, stumbling backward when she managed to yank her foot from the mud, only to find herself in deeper mud.
“Are you stuck?” he said from atop his horse.
“I think I’m sinking I—” She tried to twist to look behind her. The ground was buckling. Her scream was drowned out by a loud sucking noise. She threw herself forward, terror seizing her as she slid down into a void with nothing to cling to but slippery mud and clumps of grass.
