He gave a small chuckle, his hand brushing her elbow. “I understand.”
“The question, I think, is how will I be after tonight?”
He drew in a sharp breath. “Bianca. I don’t know. I am trying to picture a future but I am worried that—”
His words were abruptly cut off when Adrianna cried out, “I never want to see you again.” Before she spun and fled from the room.
“Oh dear,” Bianca gasped. “And I thought I was upset.”
Chris pressed his lips together. His fingers subtly squeezing her elbow.
Lord Crestwood turned toward her father. “Please, sir. May I go speak with her?”
“I don’t think…” her father started as he straightened.
But Lord Crestwood pressed his hands together. “We’ll stay in plain sight in the hall. I just need a moment to apologize.”
Her father gave his head a stiff nod of assent and Lord Crestwood fled from the room.
“Papa,” Juliet called, even as her father began crossing the room to follow the couple.
Chris leaned down close to Bianca’s ear. “Try not to worry,” he said. “They’ll work it out, I’m sure.”
Bianca shook her head. “Will we?”
He winced, which made Bianca’s heart turn over in her chest. Gently she removed her elbow from his hand. Taking a slow step back, she sat down on the settee, fighting back tears. It wasn’t that she didn’t understand. His past kept him from moving forward into his future. But that didn’t stop the pain of losing him.
Her father returned and Bianca looked over at him, also wanting to leave. How had this evening so quickly become a disaster?
“Papa,” Juliet called again. “I think we’re in need of a distraction. Why don’t we do something fun?”
Bianca knew what Juliet was up to with her request. She’d concoct a plan to distract their father and give Adrianna a bit of privacy. But Bianca wasn’t sure she had the heart to participate.
“Juliet.” Her father pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m not certain this is the time. “
“This is precisely the time.” Juliet sailed forward, her arms arcing in a wide circle. “Let’s read a scene from Romeo and Juliet. Star-crossed lovers who are doomed for failure.”
A slow smile spread on her father’s face, but Bianca’s own heart sank. Her fingers itched to scrub her face and part of her wanted to give Chris’s chest another good shove. The last thing she wanted to do was act out her own pain.
“That’s not a bad idea, Juliet,” her father said. “Someone remind me to check on Lord Crestwood in just a moment. But first, why don’t I get out all of our copies of the work? We can each take a role.”
“A r-r-role,” Chris said next to her. Bianca turned to him, noticing his face had paled. Had he just stuttered? Her own heart began to thrum in her chest. Frustrated as she was with him, she’d never allow him to be humiliated with public speaking.
“I don’t think,” she started, but Juliet gave her a sharp look.
Then she leaned over and whispered. “Adrianna needs us to keep him distracted. Play along, would you?”
“B-B-Bianca.” Chris reached for her hand and she slipped her gloved fingers tightly into his. “I c-c-c-can’t.”
“I know,” she softly whispered, leaning close to his ear. “Just relax. Come hell or high water, I won’t let them cast you in a role.”
She saw him draw in a deep breath.
“How?” he asked.
It was a single word but he hadn’t stuttered as she laced her fingers through his, she leaned over. “I’ve been acting in plays since I was three. I’ll fake a faint if it comes to that. But I’m sure I’ll think of something less dramatic. Don’t say a word. I’ll do all the talking.”
Chapter Fourteen
Chris stared at Bianca. She straightened in her chair, her chest puffing out as she smoothed her skirts. She was preparing to go to war on his behalf. He could see it, feel the change in her demeanor.
She was about to fight for him. Something inside shifted. He looked at her as her fists clenched in the folds of her skirts. Her father began to pass out books. He watched Dashlane take one, his face turning near green. Juliet took a book with a glowing smile.
Bianca unfurled both her hands and held them both out. “I’ll take my book and Lord Craven’s.”
Her father raised a brow but did as she asked and handed her two volumes. She tucked one under her seat.
Dashlane furrowed his brow as he leaned forward, staring at them both. “How come Craven doesn’t have to have a book?”
Bianca leaned in front of him, pointing a finger at Dashlane. “That isn’t your concern.” Her voice rang with an authority he’d only heard her use once at the cricket match.
A grin like he hadn’t smiled in years split Chris’s face, making his cheeks hurt. Perhaps there were some muscles he hadn’t worked on after all because his face wasn’t used to…joy.
He nearly laughed out loud but held the sound in as Dashlane sat back in his chair. He looked from Bianca and over to Dashlane, the other man’s brows so high, they practically disappeared into his artfully windblown locks. He must have noticed Chris’s grin because the man’s damn eyebrows went from high to furrowed in an instant. “What the…?”
Chris wrapped his hands about Bianca’s upper arm, leaning over to whisper in her ear, “I can take care of Dashlane. You just help me with your father.”
Bianca nodded, her blue eyes crinkling as they met his. “Was that too much?”
“No, love.” He leaned in until his forehead nearly touched hers. “It was just right.” In fact, it had been absolutely perfect.
He wanted to be alone with her. Touch her again and feel her body close to his. In fact, he didn’t want to ever be apart.
Mr. Moorish turned back around and Chris straightened, not wanting to offend his host. But the man paused, staring at Chris. Was it that he’d caught how close Chris had been leaning to his daughter or was it that he didn’t hold a copy of the play?
“Shall we assign roles?” Mr. Moorish asked, still eyeing him.
Bianca smiled up at her father. “Lord Dashlane should be Romeo, don’t you think?”
He heard Dashlane give a low groan and another smile spread across his lips. Bianca was taking her job very seriously.
Her father paused. “Normally I would agree. But tonight I thought Lord Craven might take a stab at—”
“No.” Bianca stood, squaring her shoulders. “Lord Craven is not meant for the role.”
Mr. Moorish tilted his head to the side as Chris stood up behind Bianca. He brushed the small of her back with his fingers. “Mr. Moorish, m-may I have a brief word?”
“Of course,” Mr. Moorish replied. Relief made his shoulders drop as Mr. Moorish led the way out onto one of the balconies. “Now tell me son, what’s this about?”
Chris drew in a deep breath, unable to believe he was about to confess to another person. “I have a stutter…I don’t do well speaking publicly. Your daughter…” He didn’t want to stutter now. He’d sensed his own shift concerning Bianca and he wanted her father to consider him a good marriage candidate. “She knows and she is trying to protect me.”
Mr. Moorish cocked his head to one side. “There are several curiosities in that simple sentence.”
Chris gripped the rail, uneasiness making his chest tight. “Such as?”
“Have you stuttered your entire life?”
Chris didn’t actually want to answer that question and a muscle ticked in his jaw. “It began when I was five and I’ve mostly cured the plague. Only when I get extremely nervous does it come back.”
“It’s a nervous tic, is it?” Mr. Moorish asked, scratching his jaw. “Someday, son, you’ll have to tell me how it began. If I were to guess, it involved some trauma.”
Chris’s jaw might have dropped open if he hadn’t been clenching it closed. How had the other man known that? “Miss Moorish is attempting to protect me, which I m
ust admit I appreciate a great deal.”
“To hear it told, you also stood up for her the other day. Is that true?” Mr. Moorish crossed his arms, staring at Chris through his spectacles.
Chris gave a tentative nod. “I was happy to do so.”
Mr. Moorish drew in a long breath. “Then I only have a few more questions to ask. The first is how does my daughter know so much about you?”
A muscle in Chris’s jaw spasmed. Now they were getting down to the heart of it. “I’ve developed a great affection for your daughter.”
Mr. Moorish stepped a bit closer. “And your intentions are?”
He might as well accept his fate now. He couldn’t leave her. He still wasn’t certain this was the best course but there was no turning back now. “My intention is to marry her.”
Bianca stood exactly where her father and Chris had left her, watching them speak on one of the many balconies that faced the water. Only the occasional word drifted back to her and she wrung her hands wondering what they might be speaking about.
Dashlane rose from his chair, crossing his arms. “Why did you volunteer me for Romeo?”
Bianca blinked, realizing he was speaking to her. She furrowed her brow, looking over at him. Didn’t he understand she was attempting to eavesdrop? “Not now. I can’t hear what they’re saying.”
Dashlane tossed up his hands. “You don’t have to hear to know what he’s saying. He’s declaring his undying affection and asking for your hand and being a spineless fop. Every one of my friends is turning into a bleeding idiot if you ask me.”
Surprise made Bianca go rigid. Dashlane couldn’t be correct, could he?
Her sister, Cordelia, reached out to Dashlane, touching his arm. “You don’t know that so don’t say it. You’ll get her hopes up.”
Dashlane scowled at Cordelia. “Which one are you?”
She scoffed, pulling back her hand from his arm. “The one who doesn’t give a fig if you’re handsome or charming. It doesn’t give you the right to be rude. Which you’ve been since the moment you walked through the door.”
His mouth parted in surprise. “I’ve been rude? Your sister is attempting to trap me in some web that I am sure I don’t want to be in.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Juliet huffed. “You can’t be talking about me?”
But Cordelia pulled out her fan and tapped his arm with it. “You can’t handle one marriage-minded miss?”
He straightened, his expression growing black. “I certainly can.”
Cordelia’s chin notched. Bianca could not ever remember her sister speaking this way. Her demeanor was normally quiet and demure. “Then what does it matter what Juliet’s plans are? You’re being rude to my father. A man who has put a roof over your head and opened his doors in hospitality. Be nice.”
“I’m a viscount. I don’t need you to school me in acceptable behavior.” He grabbed her fan, holding it in his hand even as she still held it in his hers.
“Really? You don’t act like you have any manners at all,” Cordelia huffed.
Dashlane gave a visible wince. As thought Cordelia had actually wounded him with those words.
Juliet stepped between them. “Thank you, Cordelia, for trying to help me but this isn’t necessary.”
Bianca remained silent but she watched Dashlane glare over Juliet’s shoulder and Cordelia glared back. Something sharp sizzled in the air and her eyebrows lifted. What was happening?
But she didn’t have time to question it further as Chris and her father returned to the room. Bianca was likely going to hell but she needed her own moment and so she turned to her father. “Papa, you should check on Adrianna.”
His eyes widened in surprise but he nodded, mumbling to himself. She just managed to catch the words. “These lords will be the death of me.”
And then he disappeared from the room again. Bianca stepped around Juliet, Cordelia, and Lord Dashlane to race to Chris’s side. “Is everything all right?”
He reached out a hand and pulled her close. “Everything is fine.”
She stopped, looking up at him. Fine? That was his answer? A million questions crowded into her throat. Fine? “Chris?”
He settled her against his body. “I’ve already explained to you why I never intended to marry,” he said, his breath whispering across her cheek as he moved closer.
She nodded. “You did.” Her heart was pounding in her chest as she stared up into his eyes.
“But I can’t let you go either. I’ve told your father that my intention is to marry you.”
Those words raced along her spine, making her body tingle with excitement. In her heart,
she never believed that Chris would ever hurt her. But he needed to believe that too. And it was
time for Bianca to be strong. To stop living her life always being afraid. “Thank you for saying that.” She placed her hands on his chest. “Meet me in my room tonight. The doors will be open.”
Chapter Fifteen
Chris scratched his head, wondering about what had just happened. He’d asked her to marry him hadn’t he? Had he not? Because she certainly hadn’t answered.
He supposed an invitation to her bedroom counted for something. A great deal, in fact. But unease tightened his stomach. Had he just not asked correctly or did she not wish to answer?
He played the conversation back in his mind. Relief making him limp. He had informed her that he’d asked her father for her hand but not actually asked. That must be the issue.
Mr. Moorish returned and declared that Adrianna had retired for the evening and Crestwood had returned to the cottage. Chris scratched his chin. Suspicious.
But he had his own problems this evening. Fortunately, Dashlane took the role of Romeo and read the lines with a decidedly flat voice as Juliet played the part of well… Juliet. Her overcompensation in the acting department made them an odd pair to be certain.
In addition, Chris couldn’t help but note that Dashlane’s gaze kept sliding to Cordelia, who was doing her utmost not to make eye contact with him.
Dinner was a nice enough affair. He had to confess that he genuinely liked the entire Moorish family and their banter left him warm inside in ways he hadn’t felt in years. This was how family was supposed to be. Not like his. For the first time in years, he wondered what he might have been with a different father.
But even more curious, he thought about who he might become if he spent his life in the loving embrace of Bianca instead of the cold hard existence he’d been living.
Mr. Moorish invited them back to the music room after dinner, but Chris declined and Dashlane slumped in relief at his words. They left the house by the front door, they started down the drive. “Just so you know, I’m not returning to the village with you.”
Dashlane stopped, pivoting toward him. “You really have gone mad.”
Chris shook his head. “Maybe. But if this is madness, I like it.” In fact, he loved it. He loved her.
Damn it all to hell, he loved Bianca. He’d gone and fallen in love. Air rushed into his lungs and he gripped his thigh to keep from shouting out his feelings. How could he not? Everything about her fit against him so perfectly. From her bubbly personality, to her sweet nature, and right down to those soft curves. Then a thought struck him like lightning in a summer storm. He was his best self when he was with her too.
Bianca made him the man he wanted to be. She made him better. She’d asked him once if he’d ever wanted to hurt a woman. The answer had been no. She’d already known what he’d struggled with his entire life. He’d never be his father. And certainly not if he married Bianca. They already had a stronger bond than his mother and father had ever had.
“What are you thinking?” Dashlane asked. “Are we still leaving tomorrow?”
“Nope,” Chris answered, patting his friend on the shoulder. “I’m not certain I’m going to ever leave and you might be stuck here until my wedding. And probably Crestwood’s too.”
“Crestwoo
d?” Dashlane staggered back. “How could Crestwood succumb? He’s a rake through and through.”
Chris shrugged. “He chased an innocent out of a gathering, asking her father’s permission first. My guess is he’s engaged already. If he isn’t, he will be soon.”
Dashlane scrubbed his face. “And you’re getting married too?”
Chris shrugged. “If I’m lucky.”
“Lucky? Do you know how wrong that sounds? And what do you mean exactly? You haven’t asked her yet?” Dashlane had gone pale. “I told you this place was cursed. I can’t possibly stay any longer. I’ll never escape the marriage noose if I do.”
Chris chuckled. “Juliet wearing you down?”
Dashlane shook his head. “Juliet doesn’t tempt me in the least but Corde—”
Chris stopped laughing. Pitting sisters against one another, that was trouble. “You’re right. You should leave. Tomorrow. I’ll forgive you for not attending my wedding.”
Dashlane frowned. “And do what exactly? You and Crestwood are here. Why did the two of you have to go and get all silly over women?”
“Go have a drink, my friend. I’ll be back later.”
“No you won’t.” Dashlane groused as he turned on his heel. “You’re never coming back.” Then he turned and started down the road alone.
Chris would worry about his friend later. Right now, he needed to go secure his own future.
He skirted around a clump of bushes, hiding until most of the lights had gone out. At one point he heard rustling nearby and he peeked his head out to see a couple silhouetted in the moonlight. He couldn’t say for certain, but he’d bet money that it was Crestwood and Adrianna. Poor Mr. Moorish. The man had been overrun.
But that was his signal. If Adrianna could get out, surely he could get in. With that in mind, he returned to the house, scaling the balconies.
Reaching the one that he knew was Bianca’s, he found the door open. He slid inside, noting that several candles still burned about the room. And there, in the middle of the bed lay Bianca in nothing but a flimsy shift. Her head was propped on her elbow, her hip curving up from the bed. He forgot to breathe as he stopped to stare at her. She’d undone her hair and the dark locks trailed over her shoulder, covering her chest. He was going to take great delight in pushing that hair back.
Romancing the Rake: Seven Regency Romances Page 27
