by Bold, Diana
Of course. Still, it made him a bit uncomfortable to know that he could no longer count on his twin’s discretion. “Yes,” he admitted. “It’s Fiona.”
Serenity clapped her hands together with delight. “Oh, Morgan. You don’t know how happy this makes us. We love Fiona and would like nothing more than to see the two of you together.”
He sighed and raked his hand through his hair. “That’s just it. I don’t think she’s as eager at the prospect as the two of you are. In the beginning, there was such a spark, such a connection between us. I’d never felt anything like it before.”
He paused, still a bit stunned by the fact that he was baring his soul to them like this and wondering just exactly how much he should share. In the end, he decided that he’d come this far, he might as well tell them everything.
“And then we kissed.” He ducked his head, unable to meet their bright gazes. “I think she liked it. I know I did. But since then, she’s kept me at arm’s length. I tried to talk to her about it, I even thought we were getting somewhere, but then, she got upset because I tried to ask her who Prometheus is, and she became distant all over again. She’s said that she doesn’t think she’s worthy of me. Which is ridiculous. I just don’t know how to convince her that she is.”
“Maybe we should have the two of you over for a dinner party,” Vanessa suggested, releasing his hand and leaning back, a gleam in her eyes as she started to plan. “You’ll come as a couple. It will be just the six of us. She could see what it would be like to be part of the family.”
But Serenity looked troubled. “Is that what you want, Morgan? Do you want to marry her?”
Hearing the words out loud terrified him, but his earlier realization still felt right. “Yes, I think so. If she’d have me.” He shook his head. “I know it seems too soon. I know people won’t understand. But she makes me happy. In a way that Anne never did,” he admitted softly, dropping his gaze.
“We can’t help who we love,” Serenity said, her voice soft with understanding. “And we can’t make ourselves love someone if that spark isn’t there.”
He still couldn’t look at her. “It isn’t that I didn’t care for Anne. I cared for her a great deal. I wanted to make her happy, and sometimes I think I did. But I needed her to try harder to make me happy as well, and she didn’t. She didn’t understand my darkness, didn’t want to talk about anything deeper than the weather, gossip, and the children. She was a wonderful woman, but she just wasn’t right for me.”
He felt disloyal for even saying those words, but they’d been building up in him for so long. He’d done poorly in choosing Anne. He’d barely known her when they’d gotten married, although they’d been acquainted his whole life. But even though he and Fiona had only been spending time together for a few weeks, he felt a connection with her, had opened up to her in ways he’d never thought he could.
“Then you didn’t have a mistress?” Vanessa asked tentatively. “She told me that you had been going out at night a lot...”
Guilt overwhelmed him to know his sweet wife had died believing such a thing. “I never strayed. Not physically.”
Vanessa looked as though she wanted to ask more but was torn between her allegiance to him and her fond memories of Anne. They had become great friends before Anne’s death. Anne had treated Vanessa kindly when the rest of their world had looked down up her for being an actress.
Deciding his silence would only make him look worse, he realized he might as well tell the truth. “I was painting. Every night, I was in the attic, painting.”
Serenity’s eyes widened. “I didn’t know you were an artist, Morgan.”
He shrugged in embarrassment, uncomfortable with the title. “I’m not that good. I just like to do it. When I’m upset, it makes me feel better. It’s been that way ever since I was a child. But the things I was painting then... they were dark. I knew Anne wouldn’t understand, but I was driven to do it, night after night.”
Neither of them looked as though they truly understood, but he knew that Fiona would. If she were to see those paintings, the ones filled with fire and death, she’d probably manage to find some beauty in them. He wondered suddenly what she’d think if he were to tell her his darkest secret, what had happened on the roof with the previous Earl of Winters.
Vanessa cleared her throat. “Well, I’m glad to hear that’s what you were doing. It makes me feel even better about a match between you and Fiona.”
“Do you think she’ll agree to this? To a dinner party with the rest of us? I don’t want to make her feel cornered or uncomfortable,” he said, although he would like nothing more than to have her on his arm in a social situation with his brothers and their wives. It would do a lot to show him whether a match between them would truly be possible.
The two women exchanged a look. “You leave this to us,” Vanessa said confidently. “We will take care of everything.”
He gave them a weak smile, hoping they were right. The last thing he wanted was to drive an even deeper wedge between him and Fiona.
FIONA SAT BACK IN HER chair, letting the fancy engraved invitation in her hand drop to the desk. She stared at it, her mouth parted in shock.
A dinner party. At the Earl of Hawkesmere’s house in Grosvenor Square.
A hysterical laugh bubbled in the back of her throat, but she wasn’t quite sure if laughter or tears was the best reaction to something so ludicrous.
Though she was very friendly with both the countess and Vanessa, she didn’t believe either of them was behind this unprecedented leap in their relationship. In all the time she’d known the Strathmores, she’d only been invited to their home once. She’d gone to the earl’s house for Vanessa and Adrian’s wedding, but it was Adrian who’d invited her then, and she hadn’t stayed for the whole thing. She’d been woefully underdressed and out of place. She’d appreciated the sentiment, but the rest of the guests had made it clear to her that she did not belong. She’d sneaked away as soon as she could and had sworn never to go back.
Although she saw Vanessa and Serenity quite often at Brookhaven, and the three women had built a wonderful friendship, neither of them had ever invited her to their homes before. Not for so much as an afternoon tea.
No, this was Morgan’s doing, and she didn’t know whether to be thrilled or horrified.
She shook her head slowly, mentally cataloging her closet and coming up woefully short. Not a single item of clothing she owned was suitable for dinner with an earl. Even if she wanted to go, which she wasn’t sure she did, she had absolutely nothing to wear.
The last thing she wanted was to show up in her off-the-rack, thoroughly worn work attire and prove to them all just how unsuitable she really was to be a part of their exalted circle.
But instead of throwing the invitation into the wastebasket at her feet, she ran one finger across the fine linen paper, longing stirring within her.
What would it be like, though? To dine with the Strathmores? To sit beside Morgan as though she were his equal? To chat and laugh with all the people who had become so dear to her?
Her gaze drifted to a locked drawer of her desk.
With a trembling hand, she retrieved the key and opened it, taking out a stack of crisp pound notes she’d squirreled away for a rainy day. Adrian insisted on paying her for her position at Brookhaven, but she’d never yet spent a dime. She enjoyed knowing the money was there, if she ever needed it, and every few months, she carefully tallied how long she could keep Brookhaven going with her own funds if the Strathmores ever pulled their support.
Perhaps she could use just a little to go shopping...
With a sigh, she snapped the drawer shut. No! That was out of the question. She shouldn’t even be considering something so frivolous...
But it had been so long since she’d done anything for herself. What could it hurt, to spend just a little on something utterly lovely and decadent? Tomorrow, she could go right back to her tight-fisted, miserly ways.
Be
fore she could change her mind, she opened the drawer again, grabbed the top few bills, and pushed to her feet.
She wasn’t certain what was behind this strange invitation, and she might still make an utter fool of herself, but she sensed that if she refused, she might regret it for the rest of her life.
After stopping in the kitchen to tell Mrs. Peterson she was going out, she hailed a hack and directed the driver to take her to Bond Street.
ROGER HAD NEVER BEEN very patient, and during the last few weeks, he’d been going out of his mind waiting for Prometheus’s next move. He’d laid traps in every establishment he owned, bringing in even younger children who might spark the bastard’s interest, hiring extra guards to lie in wait.
But after a brief spurt of activity last month, Prometheus seemed to have completely gone to ground. The timing correlated perfectly with Roger arriving back on English soil, so he could only assume that somehow his stepbrothers knew he was home.
The delay in exacting his revenge infuriated him.
He knew they were out there somewhere, plotting against him, and the only way to keep them from ruining everything he’d worked to build yet again was to ruin them first.
He’d waited so long to finally have that bastard at his mercy, to rip off that mask and see which one of them had caused him so much grief. He also intended to get to the bottom of which one of them had killed his father.
All these years, they’d gone unpunished for the ways in which they’d ruined his life, but soon, that would all change. He supposed he’d just have to bide his time.
Sooner or later, they’d feel the need to act the hero and rescue someone, and when they did, he would be waiting.
MORGAN IMPATIENTLY paced the front entry of his brother’s grand home, waiting for Fiona’s arrival. He’d been half-afraid she wouldn’t come at all, but she’d apparently responded to the invitation that Serenity had sent. She was coming.
He still feared that she’d been upset by this obvious manipulation by his sisters-in-law or that she’d feel uncomfortable once she arrived. He’d resolved to do his best to make her feel at home, but he couldn’t imagine how overwhelming this all would be for her. She’d probably never been to a home like this in her life, and the last thing he wanted to do was make her feel even less like they belonged together.
A burst of laughter drifted out of the nearby sitting room, and he hoped it wasn’t at his expense. Luckily, his brothers were staying out of it, though they could have mocked him roundly for his uncharacteristic behavior.
To his dismay, his sister Allison was here as well. Apparently, she’d overheard Serenity and Vanessa talking about the dinner party, and she’d demanded an invitation of her own.
Serenity had apologetically met him at the door tonight to tell him the news, but he couldn’t be angry. Allison was his sister, after all. He only hoped she hadn’t come to cause trouble. She’d been quite nasty to both Vanessa and Serenity when they’d first joined the family. But after her kidnapping, she’d changed quite a bit. Her mother’s teachings seemed to be falling by the wayside, and he hoped she would at least try to be someone he could be proud to be related to.
Deciding to head off that potential disaster while he still could, he sought out his little sister, bringing her back out to the foyer. “Why did you want to come tonight?” he asked without preamble.
She blinked up at him, her large blue eyes full of an innocence he didn’t believe for one moment. Sometimes her resemblance to their mother hit him like a fist to the gut. “I wanted to spend some time with you all,” she finally replied. “I hardly ever get to see all of you since... Mother moved us out of Lucien’s house.”
Since Luke kicked us out hung heavy and unsaid between them.
Morgan agreed wholeheartedly with Luke on the matter, so he could hardly pretend that he didn’t think it was for the best. Still, he softened just a bit. She was their sister, and they couldn’t hold her accountable for all their mother’s misdeeds, no matter how much Allison looked like the woman.
“Do you really plan to begin courting Fiona Bohannan?” Allison asked, her eyes dancing.
Sighing, Morgan nodded. “Yes, I do. If she’ll have me.”
Allison gave him what appeared to be a sincere smile. “I’ve only met her a time or two. But I really admire her for the work she does, and she’s very beautiful.”
Morgan stared at his little sister, perhaps really seeing her for the first time in years. It had been so easy to write her off, to dismiss her as their mother’s minion, with no thoughts or ideas of her own. But now, he realized she was a young woman, nearly nineteen, and she seemed to have some opinions of her own. Perhaps he’d have to try and do better in the future to get to know her. Maybe with some guidance from him, his brothers, and their wives, she could actually become someone he’d enjoy being around.
Still, he couldn’t leave it to chance. “Will you please be kind to her? Do your best not to make her feel inferior in any way?”
Allison looked a bit hurt for a moment. Then she nodded and gently squeezed Morgan’s arm. “I’m not the girl I used to be. I hope someday you’ll realize that. Serenity and Vanessa have taught me that a person’s character has nothing at all to do with the class to which they were born.”
He placed his hand over hers, squeezing in return. “Perhaps you can come stay with me for a few days. Maybe we need a chance to get to know each other again as adults.”
Her lovely face lit up. “I’d love that, Morgan. Truly. I’d like to be able to play with the children and talk to you a bit about some of my new passions.”
He wasn’t certain what that meant exactly, but he was willing to hear her out. “Come by sometime next week. I’ll have a room made up for you.”
She clapped her hands and gave him a fierce hug. It took him a bit aback, as she’d never been one to be demonstrative with physical affection. Then she skipped off back toward the drawing room, leaving Morgan feeling bemused.
Shaking himself and trying to focus on the matter still at hand, he paced the length of the foyer once more, knowing it wasn’t well done of him to do so. A gentleman does not want to appear too eager. But damn propriety all to hell. He was eager. He just wished that Fiona had allowed him to pick her up. However, when he’d sent a note around suggesting that he do so, she’d replied that she preferred to come on her own. He didn’t know what to make of that.
At last, the doorman opened the door and ushered Fiona in.
Morgan started forward, only to pause halfway across the foyer, his eyes widening at this completely different side of the woman he’d thought he was coming to know so well.
Fiona entered with her head high, looking every inch a lady. She wore a stunning emerald gown, which emphasized the beauty of her dazzling green eyes, and her gorgeous auburn hair was piled upon her head in an intricate updo, with small pearls glistening in the dark strands. A matching necklace drew his gaze to her ample cleavage, which was on breathtaking display in the low-cut gown.
He’d seen Fiona dozens of times in the last few months, and he’d always thought her lovely beyond compare, but now... she literally took his breath away.
“Fiona,” he finally managed, rushing forward. “You look absolutely stunning.”
The flicker of relief in her eyes made him realize how very nervous she was, how much she’d feared not being dressed correctly. She’d obviously gone to much trouble and expense in order to appear so polished, and he felt renewed guilt for forcing her out of her world and into his own. Somehow, he’d find a way to make it up to her.
“Thank you,” she murmured, nervously smoothing her hand over the stiff fabric. “I wasn’t certain what to wear.”
“You’re dressed perfectly,” he assured her, taking one of her gloved hands in his own. “I’m so glad you came.”
She managed a brittle smile. “I was surprised to get the invitation.”
“Not unpleasantly, I hope.” He led her toward the sitting room. “The whole
family is glad that you decided to come.”
She raised a brow. “And what about you?”
He paused and earnestly met her gaze. “I am very happy that you’re here.”
The moment they entered the sitting room, Vanessa, Serenity, and Allison crowded around her, exclaiming over the beauty of her dress and hair.
He stood back a bit, bemused, still captivated by the sight of her. If she was nervous, he couldn’t tell. She interacted with his sister and sisters-in-law with grace and humor, and something inside him settled. Everything was going to be all right. Perhaps Vanessa and Serenity had been right and all that Fiona had needed was to see how well she’d fit in with them all to understand that she had nothing to worry about, as far as his intentions and their suitability.
Lucien drew him aside, a twinkle in his eyes. “Does this make you happy?”
Morgan nodded. “Very much so.”
His older brother squeezed his shoulder. “Well, then, the rest of us are very happy as well.”
Although he knew he didn’t need their permission, he was soothed by the fact that he had it. His brothers and their families meant everything to him, and this would have been very difficult if they’d put up a fuss or acted as though Fiona did not belong here. Not that he would have changed his mind, but he was glad not to have to jump that hurdle.
After allowing the women a few moments to chat and catch up, he once again took Fiona’s arm, leading her to get a glass of wine and then drawing her into a secluded corner.
She took a few sips, gazing at him over the rim of the crystal glass. “I’m not really sure why you invited me here, Morgan.”
He shook his head, trying to play it off. “It was Serenity who invited you.”
She gave him a disbelieving look. “Perhaps, but I still think you were behind it in some way. I’ve known Serenity for a year, and she’s never invited me here before.”
He felt heat rising in his cheeks and knew he had to be honest. “I asked Serenity and Vanessa for advice on how to get back into your good graces.”
