by Merry Farmer
Lenore pressed a hand to her stomach, tears stinging at her eyes and guilt gnawing at her insides.
Phin’s father made another, small sound.
“I know, I know,” Phin sighed. “The future never turns out the way we plan it. But perhaps it will turn into something even better, right? Isn’t that what Mama always said?”
The pathos in Phin’s voice as he mentioned his mother—someone Lenore had never heard him talk about before, but who she could see had had a profound effect on Phin’s life—was too much for her to bear. She turned away, but in the process, she knocked her traveling bag against a table in the hall.
Phin jerked around and spotted her. His face was pinched with emotion, but he quickly smoothed it away. He cleared his throat and stood, patting his father’s hand before letting it go.
“And so, it is goodbye, Father.” He leaned over and kissed his father’s forehead. “I’ll try to make it back as soon as possible to visit. And I’ll drag Lionel with me, if I can. I fear the girls will mutiny if I don’t.” He squeezed his father’s hand one last time before leaving the parlor and joining Lenore in the hall.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Lenore said, feeling awkward and wrung out and rather like she wouldn’t mind falling through a hole in the ground and into a storybook world.
“I see you’re ready to leave,” Phin said, his expression betraying nothing about what he thought of her in that moment.
“I am.” She couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“So am I.”
For a moment, they stood there facing each other without saying anything. Lenore wanted to say so much, but words seemed inadequate to express her thoughts. She just wanted everything to go back to the way it had been before Bart showed up and ruined her life once again.
In the middle of that thought, Phin raised a hand and brushed his fingertips against her cheek. The sudden, sensual, affectionate gesture sent a jolt of electricity through Lenore, reminding her that she was still alive and that she still loved Phin. Maybe that would be enough to conquer whatever Bart represented. She was certain that Phin would lean in and kiss her. That sort of fire was in his eyes.
Instead, he broke away, marching up the stairs and disappearing around the corner into his room. Lenore let out a heavy sigh. She felt silly standing in the hall waiting, so on a whim, she marched into Mr. Mercer’s parlor and up to his chair.
“I wanted to come say goodbye,” she told him, setting her bag down and sinking into the chair Phin had occupied. She took Mr. Mercer’s hand the way Phin had held it. “Thank you so much for having me as a guest in your house. I’m only sorry I couldn’t stay longer.” She paused, looking into Mr. Mercer’s eyes to see if she could feel any sort of understanding there.
“This is all such a terrible muddle,” she told him with a sudden burst of emotion. “And I swear to you, if I had known what would happen, and if I hadn’t been so afraid at the start, I would have been honest with your son. I also promise you that I will do whatever I can to make things right between the two of us. Because I’ll tell you a secret.” She leaned in closer to Mr. Mercer. “I love Phineas. I truly do. Not in spite of his scandalous ways, but because of them. And I hope I meet with your approval as well.”
“I’m sure you do.”
Lenore gasped and twisted to find Hazel watching her from the doorway. She looked both macabre and beautiful with her damaged face and missing arm. Lenore leapt up, letting go of Mr. Mercer’s hand and taking up her bag as she crossed the room.
“I’m sorry about this whole mess,” she told Hazel.
“I know you are.” Hazel reached for her hand and squeezed it. “I’ll tell you what I told Phin. Be patient. Things that are meant to be will always find a way to work themselves out.”
“And things that aren’t meant to be?” Lenore asked, one eyebrow raised.
Hazel shrugged. “They aren’t meant to be. But I have a good feeling about you,” she added with a wink. “And I hope you’ll come back soon.”
“So do I,” Lenore said. She dropped her bag and threw her arms around Hazel’s shoulders. “Believe me, so do I.”
Chapter 14
By the time the train pulled into St. Pancras station, Lenore felt as though she would never be anything but utterly exhausted ever again.
“Here, let me help you with that.” Phin stood as the train jerked to a stop and reached to the rack above Lenore’s seat to fetch her bag.
“I can carry a simple traveling bag, Phin,” Lenore sighed. Her muscles screamed in protest, telling her to stop being so stubborn and let the big, strong, handsome, furious man carry her bag for her, but she wouldn’t listen.
They’d been exceptionally lucky as to catch a train heading back to London within an hour of arriving at the station in York. In fact, they’d arrived so close to the train’s departure that they’d had to run to catch it. Which meant Lenore hadn’t been able to say a proper goodbye to Hazel and Amaryllis, who had insisted on accompanying them to the station, while Gladys stayed home with Mr. Mercer. Even so, the journey was long enough that it was well after dark by the time they’d arrived home in London. But London was London, so St. Pancras was as crowded as day when Lenore and Phin disembarked from their train and dodged their way through rushing people to the street in front of the station.
“I’ll take you home,” Phin announced as he flagged down one of many cabs waiting to take passengers.
“You don’t have to do that,” Lenore sighed. “This whole trip, while a delight, was a diversion.” Probably one he couldn’t afford, given what she knew about him and his family now. “I’m certain you have pressing business waiting for you at home, just as I do.”
He frowned at her in the lamplight as the cabbie hopped down to hold the door for them. “I can only afford one cab. Do you have the extra fare on you?”
Lenore gulped and glanced down, her old friend, guilt, squeezing her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t bring my pocket money to Yorkshire with me. I didn’t think,” she said and meekly climbed into the carriage.
That was part of the problem. She never truly paused to think things through. She’d visited the Mercer home now and she’d seen for herself why Phin needed the money he earned from publishing Nocturne. She’d seen how useful her inheritance could be to the Mercer family too. Which meant she was now fully aware of the tragedy of the situation they all found themselves in.
They rode through London to Mayfair in silence. A pounding headache had formed behind Lenore’s eyes that she was certain even a week of peaceful sleep couldn’t banish, and that was if she could sleep at all. Rest and peace seemed like distant memories, like the whisper of the wind across the moors or the clucking of the Mercer chickens in the yard as Gladys and Amaryllis hunted for eggs. Just thinking about Yorkshire left a hole in her heart as big as the one she had for Haskell and her family.
She was near tears by the time the cab pulled up in front of Howsden House, though she hated herself for being such an emotional ninny. Phin hopped down from the carriage, then turned to help her down.
“I’m certain everything will work out,” he said in a tight voice once they stood on the dark curb facing each other. He didn’t let go of her hand after helping her to alight.
“Are you really certain?” Lenore asked, wincing at the defeat in her voice.
Phin didn’t reply, which was more of an answer than he could have given with words.
Lenore sighed, then put her traveling bag down so she could hold both of Phin’s hands. “I know I’m just repeating myself at this point and that it all probably sounds hollow to you, but I swear to you, Phin, I didn’t set out to deceive you. I was afraid, and fear can make people do things they wouldn’t do otherwise. And I truly do love you, even if—”
He silenced her rambling by pulling her close, wrapping his arms around her, and kissing her with far more enthusiasm than she would have expected. His mouth molded to hers and his lips parted her own. He took his time exp
loring her with his teeth and tongue, nibbling on her bottom lip and tasting her fully. It felt so wonderful that Lenore closed her eyes and sagged against him, giving up every bit of control she had fought so desperately to keep and letting him claim her. It felt uncommonly good and left her wondering just how perfect her life could be if she gave up and handed her heart over to Phin completely.
A moment later, Phin stepped back with a sharp intake of breath and pushed her to arm’s length. “You’d better go in,” he said, his voice rough from kissing and turbulent emotions. “Reese’s butler is spying on us from the front window.”
Lenore gasped and touched a hand to her tingling lips before glancing past Phin’s shoulder to the front window. Sure enough, the shadowy figure of Mr. Tilney was watching them. Lenore cleared her throat and bent to pick up her bag.
“This isn’t over yet,” she said, stepping away from Phin and toward the front door. “I’m going to sort this out, and then I’m going to make amends to you somehow.”
Phin opened his mouth to reply, but seemed to think better of it. He nodded, then turned away from her and climbed back into the carriage.
Lenore waited where she was until the cab pulled away. It felt as though her heart ran off with it, and when she turned to the door as Mr. Tilney opened it, her chest ached with hollowness.
“Good evening, Miss Garrett,” Mr. Tilney said with a nod as Lenore passed into the house. He reached to take her case, giving Lenore a chance to unbutton her coat and remove her hat. Mr. Tilney’s expression wasn’t stony, for a change, though Lenore wasn’t sure she liked the awkward combination of sympathy and wariness it held.
“Hello, Mr. Tilney,” she replied with a weak smile, handing him her hat and coat when he held out his free arm. “I wish I could say it was good to be home.”
“Understood, miss,” he said, filling those two words with a world of meaning. His expression dropped to something akin to dread before he said, “They’re waiting for you in the parlor.”
Pure anxiety flooded Lenore’s stomach as she turned and marched down the hall to whatever doom awaited her. She hadn’t even reached the parlor doorway before she heard just how much doom she was in for. Bart’s booming baritone sounded right along with Reese’s mellifluous tenor in the parlor. It was clear the men were arguing.
“…without proof of the things you say, you are merely engaging in slander.” Reese stood near the fireplace, his back as stiff and straight as any well-bred Englishman, as he glared at Bart.
“You want proof? I can give you proof,” Bart growled back from where he was splayed in one of Reese’s finely-upholstered chairs, as if it were a table at a saloon.
He looked as out of place as could be in the sophisticated parlor. It wasn’t that Bart was a ruffian, like the ranch hands both he and Lenore’s father employed. Bart’s suit was expensive enough, and the silver watch chain that looped from a buttonhole to the pocket of his waistcoat was an indicator of how much wealth the Swan family had. But the way Bart lounged and the utter contempt for everything around him that radiated off of him marked the man as part of a different culture entirely.
“Saying you’re married to Lenore doesn’t constitute proof,” Freddy snapped from the far side of the room, where he appeared to be pacing. “Unless you can produce a marriage license, I won’t believe it.”
Lenore cleared her throat, and instantly, all three men snapped their attention to her.
“There’s your proof,” Bart said, rising from his chair so fast Lenore was tempted to take a step back. The laughable thing was that Bart was short—shorter even than Lenore—and squat, though he had the musculature of a man who worked hard for a living. His arms alone were as thick as Freddy’s thighs. He didn’t necessarily look like a murderer, but Lenore had proof to the contrary. “You want a marriage license?” he went on, glancing from Freddy to Lenore. “The bitch stole it when she ran out on me, and as like as not, she probably still has it.”
“Lenore, you’re home.” Freddy broke away from his pacing to stride across the room and sweep Lenore into his arms. The gesture was so sweet and protective that Lenore nearly burst into tears then and there. Reese also crossed the room to stand by her side.
“Freddy.” It was all Lenore could manage to say until she swallowed the lump in her throat. Even then, the only words she could produce were, “I’m sorry.”
Freddy took a step back, puzzled. Reese studied her as well, but at least he radiated support as he did.
Bart moved toward her, chuckling in a low, menacing way, his flat lips twitching into a seedy grin. “Well, well. If it isn’t my runaway bride.”
“Bart.” Lenore nodded sharply to him, forcing every bit of courage she possessed into squaring her shoulders and facing him, and her mistakes, head-on.
“Sweetheart, this man says you’re his wife,” Freddy said, inching toward her, a fire in his eyes that seemed to say he’d been maintaining the ruse of their engagement and that she would do well to play along.
It was one of the sweetest things Freddy had ever done for her, considering how much danger it put him in, but Lenore couldn’t let Freddy or Reese risk their lives for her sake for a moment longer.
“He’s right,” she said in a small voice, clasping her hands in front of her and lowering her head for a moment. “I did marry him.” She couldn’t bring herself to say she was his wife. As far as she was concerned, she wasn’t.
Freddy and Reese gaped at her, sending startled looks between her and Bart.
“So the blackguard isn’t lying?” Reese asked. For a moment, Lenore worried he was as hurt as Phin had been when he learned the truth.
“No,” Lenore sighed, raising her head and facing Bart with her chin tilted up. “But I did not marry him for love. I married him because…because Bart and I had a deal.” She’d come perilously close to saying she’d married him to save her life, but under the circumstances, with Bart standing right there, leering at her, she thought better of it.
“That’s right, sweet pea, we did,” Bart chuckled, swaggering toward her. “And it’s time you fulfill your end of the deal.”
Lenore took a step back. “I did fulfill my end,” she said, surprised at how defensive she sounded. “I said I’d marry you so that I couldn’t testify against you.” She shot a quick glance to Freddy and Reese, trying to gauge whether they’d let on to Bart that they knew the full story of his villainy.
“Come on, sweetheart,” Bart said, as if trying to sound loving, but coming off as slick. “You know that I want more from you than just your silence.”
Lenore cleared her throat and glanced to Freddy and Reese. “Gentlemen, might I have a moment alone with Mr. Swan?”
“Absolutely not,” Reese said, glaring at Bart. Whether he was as hurt as Phin or not, he was most definitely in her corner.
Freddy rested a hand on Reese’s arm. “If you think it will help,” he told Lenore.
Lenore nodded to him. Reese made a frustrated sound, but moved with Freddy to the doorway.
“We’ll be just across the hall, if you need us,” Freddy said, sending a downright vicious look Bart’s way.
As soon as they left the room, Lenore circled widely around Bart, heading to the fireplace to warm her icy hands. Her heart raced and she wasn’t sure she could feel her feet.
“Those two are as queer as a bent penny, you know,” Bart said, following her to the fireplace.
“You only think that because they’re British gentlemen. You don’t understand their ways,” Lenore said in weak defense of her friends. She spun to face Bart, figuring that if she was going to be brave about things, she had to be brave from the start. “Why are you here, Bart?”
“Why do you think?” Bart laughed. He narrowed his eyes as he approached her, or rather, as he stalked toward her, like a hunter following his prey. “I want my wife back.”
“We both know I’m not really your wife,” Lenore said, proud of herself for not turning into a quivering ball of fear before
him.
“Honey, we both know you are,” Bart countered. “At least legally. I aim to make it real as fast as possible.”
She didn’t believe him, not entirely. The lasciviousness in his eyes chilled Lenore to the bone. It was such a sharp contrast to the undisguised desire in Phin’s eyes when the two of them were flirting. But thoughts of Phin, thoughts of the passion between them and the way they created magic together, weren’t going to help her get through the conversation she needed to have.
“I want an annulment, Bart,” she said, holding her head up high.
As if he hadn’t heard her, Bart narrowed his eyes and said, “Why’d you run out on me, Lenore? Imagine my surprise when I got back from explaining things to my pa only to find you gone.”
“You know why I did what I did.” Lenore moved away from him before he could get too close, deliberately placing the sofa between the two of them. “And it’s suited you just fine, until now. Why is that?”
Bart chuckled and rubbed a hand over his mouth as he eyed her like a piece of meat. Again, he ignored her to say, “You probably think marrying me so you could legally keep your mouth shut was enough. But I’m sure you’re not dumb enough to forget all the other benefits being married to you give me.”
“I’ve fulfilled my end of the bargain,” Lenore insisted. “I didn’t say a word. I left the country so that no one could ask me about what I saw, about your…your plans.”
“Sweetie, I may be dumb, but I’m not stupid.” Bart stared flatly at her. “You left the country to run away from me and take your money and your sweet ass with you. But I’m not having it. I bought into your sneaky plan to marry me because your daddy is one of the most important members of the WSGA. His vote means a lot. His money means a lot too.”
“You agreed to the plan because of the connections it would give you,” Lenore said, sighing as part of the mystery of why Bart had fallen for her scheme came clear to her. Of course, that was why he would fall for something so transparent. She had considered that the marriage and the connections it would provide could be as important to Bart as saving her life was to her, and now she had confirmation. All the same, she shook her head and took a few more steps away from him. “Well, it doesn’t matter now. I’ve made a life for myself in England, and I’m not going back. I want an annulment.”
