by Fanny Walsh
Duncan’s direct marriage proposal had surprised her, but the emotion with which he spoke about wanting to marry and take care of her had outright startled her.
She had never experienced such a thing, and her heart was still pounding. She knew she could not face him again for some time, perhaps never again at all.
Her first coherent thought was to pen Beatrice and seek her counsel. But she could not face her friend’s endless questions and relentless insistence that she accepts Duncan’s proposal.
Even if what Duncan said was true, and her marriage would end the murder attempts, she could not allow herself to become a man’s burden just to save her own life. Moreover, she could not allow a man to marry her just to protect her.
Mary told herself that that was the reason she had rejected Duncan’s offer, even though her heart told her that he had not proposed for that reason alone.
She remained isolated in her study until after dark. Susan had brought her a dinner tray and some wine, after which Mary had dismissed her and the other servants for the remainder of the night. She had pushed aside the food, untouched, but drank the wine gratefully.
Then, she sat back in her chair with her eyes closed, her head resting comfortably against it.
Then, she is falling. Once again, through the clouds, watching the blurs of people watching her fall through their buildingless windows.
She swings her cane in front of her wildly, vainly, hoping to feel anything with which she might save herself from the certain death waiting below.
Only when she feels fingers pressing on her back does she realize that the windows have gotten closer, as if the walls of the invisible buildings are closing in on her.
For an instant, she feels relieved, sure that the hands are extended to grab her and pull her to safety. Then, she realizes that the hands are not grabbing for her, but pushing her, further and further down.
Just as the hard concrete below her comes into clear view, a strong arm wraps firmly around her waist. She is no longer falling; she is now gliding.
Butterflies form in her stomach as the fear eases and she feels a sense of delight at the sensation of floating downward.
Within seconds, her feet touch the ground. She looks around for an angry mob of men. Instead, she is now standing in a field of beautiful flowers.
She turns to thank the kind soul who saved her and finds herself face to face with… Duncan. He is smiling at her, and gently caresses her face with one hand, still holding her about the waist with the other.
It is then she realizes that her cane is gone, and she is standing with her weight on both her legs, without any pain. She tentatively leans on her bad leg and laughs joyfully when it holds strong, still free of any pain.
Duncan smiles at her delight, looking at her with intense eyes. Then, he slowly begins to bring his face closer to hers, and…
Her grandfather clock chimed, and she slowly opened her eyes.
She found herself still reclined in her chair, but with her head now lifted from the back of the chair, as if poised in wait.
Heat filled her cheeks, and she covered her face with her hands. The new emotions she felt shook her, and she knew that she must avoid Duncan at any cost. At least, until she had time to figure them out.
Mary held steadfast to her resolve to not see Duncan. In fact, for the next few weeks, she did not leave her home. Duncan sent her a couple of letters, both of which went unanswered, even though they consisted of only more discussion about the procedure for her leg.
Mary knew she would have to face him at some point, but she could not do so just yet.
Before she knew it, half of the London Season had passed. She read almost daily about all the couples announcing their engagements. She was sure her uncle would be paying her another visit soon, and he would likely be much more persistent about seeing her betrothed to his eldest son.
She knew she must act soon if she were to have any hope of taking control of her circumstances.
***
“Beatrice, the absolute last thing I want to do is attend another ball and turn away more proposals for marriage,” Mary told her friend as they sipped tea in the drawing room of Mary’s home.
“Well, if not Duncan, and not any of the eligible men in the ton, then whom?” Beatrice asked, seeming exasperated at Mary’s obtuseness.
Then, Beatrice’s face lit up. An idea seemed to have occurred to her.
“You simply must come,” Beatrice said. “Never mind the suitors. I have arranged to meet someone else who is involved in the investigation of my father’s death there, and I would like for you to be there with me.”
“Oh, Bea,” Mary said, sighing. “Are you still going on about that?”
“Mary, please trust me. This source says that he has found something of urgent interest. That is why we arranged to meet at the ball. Besides, he is a nobleman, and he is very connected within the seedy underbelly of society.”
That was precisely what Mary feared. She secretly hoped that these sources of Beatrice’s were not just taking advantage of her gullibility and her fortune, just to lead her to a crushing dead end.
But she could not bring herself to present this possibility up to her dear friend. Besides, what if she was the one proven wrong?
“Alright,” Mary said, resigned. “If it means that much to you, I will attend the ball with you.”
“Oh, thank you, darling,” Beatrice exclaimed. “And I promise, we can leave immediately after I meet with this man and learn what it is that he has found.”
Mary nodded, knowing well that Beatrice would likely keep no such promise.
***
The ball was already in full swing when Mary and Beatrice arrived. Men were scribbling away on dance cards, and clusters of single women were talking and laughing behind their fans, no doubt selecting the men from who they intended to entice betrothals. She was relieved when no more than a few men seemed to take notice of her arrival.
Soon, however, an attractive, shrewd-looking man approached Beatrice and asked her to dance. Beatrice looked inquisitively at Mary, and she nodded to reassure her friend that she would be fine alone.
As the man whisked Beatrice to the dance floor, Mary hoped her reassurance was not premature.
Mary watched Beatrice as she danced with the man. The two seemed engrossed in conversation, and she wondered if that was the source of which she spoke.
For a moment, she felt a pang of envy watching her friend glide gracefully across the ballroom. She remembered dancing that gracefully once upon a time, and her heart fell a little.
As if on cue, she spotted Duncan, standing just beyond where Beatrice and her partner had just been dancing. She was surprised at how happy she was to see him.
She had been so busy trying to think about anything besides his proposal that she had almost forgotten how handsome he was.
As she stood wondering whether she should approach him, he looked up suddenly, as if feeling eyes on him. It did not take him long to see her, and she thought she saw a hint of apprehension flicker on his face.
Then it was gone, replaced with his ever-charming smile. He bowed his head to the people with whom he had been conversing and made his way over to where she stood.
“Good evening, my lady. Are you alone this evening?” His tone was light, but Mary did not miss the tension in his jaw or the clouds in his eyes.
Suddenly nervous, Mary shook her head.
“Not at all,” she said. “Beatrice and I came together. She is dancing just now.”
Duncan visibly relaxed, his smile lighting up his face.
“It is good to see you,” he said.
“And you, as well,” Mary said, realizing at that moment how much she meant it.
“How have you been keeping?” Duncan asked, his gaze flickering discreetly to her leg.
“I have not left home much recently, so it has not suffered any undue strain.”
“That is probably for the best,” Duncan said. He loo
ked as if he wanted to say more, but he seemed to reconsider it.
“And how have you been, my lord?”
Duncan’s face fell for a moment.
“Fine,” he said curtly.
Mary flinched. She thought perhaps the reason for his short response might have something to do with her rejection of his proposal.
Duncan studied her and brightened again.
“Nothing serious, my lady. Just some family things that arose recently.”
Mary released the breath she had been holding. She realized then that she had not given as much thought to Duncan’s feelings regarding her rejection as she perhaps should have.
The idea sent her emotions spinning again, and she looked away from him to try and spot Beatrice, so he would not see the turmoil in her eyes.
The dance was ending, and she saw Beatrice scanning the crowd for her. Their eyes met, and Beatrice started to beckon Mary to her. Then, she seemed to see that Mary was conversing with Duncan, and she smiled and gave a small wave instead.
She turned away from Mary and followed the man with whom she had been dancing off of the dance floor. Mary frowned, wondering if she should not excuse herself and join her friend.
Duncan followed her gaze.
“Do you need to join your friend?” he asked.
“I was just wondering the same thing,” Mary said. She watched the couple for another moment. Beatrice seemed to have forgotten Mary altogether, and she and the man were talking more fervently than ever.
“It looks more like I would be an intrusion, for the moment, at least,” she said at last.
Duncan turned his gaze back to Mary, giving her another of his dashing smiles.
“Then perhaps you would grace me with your intrusion on this dance?”
Mary could not help but laugh. Despite herself, she found herself so tempted by the offer that she could not resist. The first time she had danced with Duncan had been the most wonderful time she had had since her family’s tragedy, and she was thrilled at having an opportunity to repeat it.
“My lord, I thought you would never ask,” she said, giving him her hand.
Duncan led her slowly onto the dance floor. Mary noticed that he seemed to be trying to nonchalantly scan the crowd.
Before she could ask him about it, though, he took her into his arms and placed her on his feet, as he did before. Even though she knew what he was doing this time, her heart still fluttered at the contact.
“So, how many suitors have you turned away tonight?” he asked. Mary sensed that he was asking a different question.
“Actually, none so far,” she said.
The relief coming from Duncan was palpable.
“Perhaps your subtle rebuffing at the last ball was hint enough,” he said with a smile that did not cover the doubt in his eyes.
“Would that I should be so lucky,” Mary said, almost bitterly.
Duncan looked at her, his face warm but serious.
“I hope you do not fear that I shall continue to press my intentions on you tonight,” he said.
His words caught Mary off guard. She did not know how to respond.
“I assumed that you enjoyed dancing with someone who stood on your feet,” she said at last, trying to inflect a little humor into her voice.
It must have worked, because Duncan laughed.
“You assumed correctly, my lady,” he said. “However, I feel that I must apologize for my bold proposal when last we met.”
Mary’s breath caught. She did not know whether she feared another proposal, or that he would retract the one he made.
“I understand if you do not want to marry,” Duncan continued. “However, I am deeply concerned about your safety. I very much wish to help you uncover who it is that is making attempts on your life.”
His words heated Mary’s heart, and for a brief moment, she regretted her harsh and immediate rejection of his marriage proposal. His desire to keep her safe truly was born of real feelings, not out of a sense of obligation, and her heart skipped again.
She blushed and smiled.
“Now that, my lord, is an offer to which I cannot say no,” she said.
Duncan’s eyes grew wide, as did his smile.
“I cannot tell you how happy I am to hear you say that,” he said.
Mary laughed. His boyish elation at that moment was too sweet for words.
“However, if we intend to set about solving this mystery, I think we should find Beatrice,” she said.
Chapter 14
As soon as the dance ended, Duncan led Mary from the dance floor in the direction they had seen Beatrice headed. Duncan was intensely relieved that Mary had agreed to allow him to help her find out who was trying to harm her.
If she wanted to involve her friend, whatever the reason, he would oblige. He would have agreed to anything that meant he could stay close to Mary until he could be sure she was safe.
They saw Beatrice standing on the balcony. She was alone, but the window was open, and she was in full view of the entire ballroom. Duncan thought she looked to be deep in thought, but pleased.
She seemed to break out of a trance when she saw Mary and Duncan approaching. She rushed over to them and took her friend’s hands.
“Oh, Mary, I cannot wait to tell you—” she trailed off, as if seeing Duncan for the first time.
“Oh, I am sorry. Forgive me,” she said, dipping before Duncan into a curtsey.
“Not at all, my lady,” he said, answering her curtsey with a bow.
“Beatrice, this is Lord Tornight,” Mary said. “It is alright. He is a friend. You can trust him.”
Beatrice studied Duncan with her brow furrowed. Duncan thought she appeared skeptical, but he could not be sure.
“Charmed,” she said, giving him a thin smile.
“Lord Tornight, this is Miss Beaumont,” Mary said, finishing the introductions.
Duncan bowed again, giving Mary’s friend what he hoped was his most charming smile.
“It is a pleasure,” he said.
Beatrice nodded, still appraising him with a strange expression. Then, she turned to Mary.
“We can wait to discuss what my… what I learned tonight, if you wish,” she said pointedly, glancing at Duncan from the corner of her eye.
Mary flushed, and shook her head at her friend.
“That will not be necessary,” Mary said. “As I said, he is a friend. We can trust him.”
Beatrice did not seem convinced, but she did appear to trust her friend enough to remain silent, for the time being.
“Besides, since we have a mystery of our own to solve, we might all be of some assistance to one another.”
“Oh?” Beatrice said, her expression changing to one of surprise and intrigue. “You do not mean the person who is…” she trailed off, glancing at Duncan again. “That is, the issue we have been discussing about you, do you?”
Mary nodded.
“That is precisely what we mean. Lord Tornight is the one who tended to me after the carriage incident, and he believes as we believe about all the strange ‘coincidences.’”
Beatrice studied Duncan carefully again, her face softening.
“And what say you about it all?”
Duncan hesitated only briefly. He knew that as much honesty as he could afford would be best, if he ever hoped to earn Beatrice’s trust, and thereby keep Mary’s.
“I believe that whoever is trying to harm Mary should be stopped. No matter the cost.” He could not stop himself from looking at Mary, with both the concern and the growing feelings for her plainly written on his face.
Beatrice seemed to notice, too. The cloud of doubt that had darkened her face seemed to dissipate, and she smiled.
“Well, in that case, I am glad that we have you on our side,” she said. She looked around and frowned.
“We cannot discuss any of what I have learned here. Not in such mixed company,” she said to the couple, her voice low. He did not know exactly what she mean
t, but he felt certain that he would agree if he did. He and Mary nodded their agreement in unison.
“You are right, darling,” Mary said. “We can meet later this week if that is alright with you both?”
