He was about to give up and allow the matter to drop when she placed a gentle hand on his arm once again. “You brought me here to share your heart with me, and I thank you for the gesture. I owe you no less in return.” She smiled wryly. “I can’t imagine what your mother must be thinking, you bringing a Scottish lass with flame-red hair and an impertinent brogue to see her.”
“She’d approve.”
“I hope so. Mothers tend to think their sons are the handsomest, most charming, most incredible men in all the world.” She cast him another wry smile. “I suppose you are all that. Indeed, there’s no one finer than you, William. I’ve always thought so and always will.”
He took her hand in his. “What else do you think of me, Megs?”
“I think…no, I don’t ever think clearly when you are around. My heart still fills with starlight whenever I’m with you.” She pursed her lips, as though wishing she hadn’t let that slip out. Then she sighed and gazed at him without embarrassment or regret. “Some ladies dream of dashing knights or valiant princes, but I dream of you. There’s never been anyone else in my thoughts or in my heart. I hadn’t ever meant to tell you that. It seems I have no resolve when it comes to you. You have a way of coaxing the most private thoughts out of me.”
“Because you trust me, Megs.”
She nodded. “As you trust me or you would not have brought me here.”
“I needed to have you by my side. I wanted you by my side. I feel as though I can share anything with you.” He hadn’t meant to turn the conversation quite so serious, but he’d never had qualms about confiding in Meggie even when she had been a weepy misfit just arrived in London from the Highlands.
He’d been a bold young man back then, so full of himself and behaving like a monumental ass. He cringed just thinking of the friends he’d surrounded himself with and how they’d strutted like peacocks, so certain the young ladies found them irresistible.
But he and Meggie had always gotten on well despite everything.
“William, I’m about to make a cake of myself.”
He grinned at her. “Shall I stop you?”
“No, I think it is important to say this to you here. Your mother already knows the sort of man you are and is surely smiling down on you.” She suddenly appeared flustered and her cheeks turned a delightfully soft shade of pink. “I could stop talking right now. I should stop talking. But I want you to know that I don’t merely admire you. I don’t dream of you simply because you are ridiculously handsome.”
“You don’t?”
“No.” She took a deep breath and continued. “I dream of you because I love you. William, I am so madly in love you and it is tearing my heart to pieces.”
“Megs–” She may as well have taken a battering ram and run it straight through his heart. She loved him. Her admission ought to have made his own heart soar, but it left his in pieces as well. She was telling him this because she was determined not to marry him. She was explaining to him why she was not going to bend in her decision. She wanted to see him take a wife who could bear him children.
She had taken it upon herself to decide his fate.
“You don’t have to say anything back to me,” she said in a groaning release of breath. “I wanted your mother to know. I said this because I want her to know that she gave birth to a very, very special man who deserves more than I can ever give him. I’m going to walk back to the carriage now. Stay here as long as you need. There’s no hurry. We’ll make it back to London in time.”
He said nothing, merely watched Meggie as she walked away. After a long moment, he turned back to his mother’s grave. “Lord, I’m an idiot. What do you think of Meggie? She’s worth fighting for, isn’t she?”
His answer came when the sun that was hidden behind a passing cloud suddenly burst forth in all its brilliance. At least, he took it as a sign of approval and laughed softly. Shading his eyes, he glanced up at the patch of blue sky overhead. “I’m going to need a lot of help. All the divine help you can give me, if I’m to make her miracle come true.”
But how was he to convince Meggie that his happiness was bound to hers and not to some dimwit debutante like Lady Dorothea who would give him dimwit children determined to plague him for the rest of his days?
In truth, having children was important to him.
But not having Meggie would crush his soul.
He ran a hand roughly through his hair. He’d taken long enough to admit to himself that he cared for Meggie. More than merely cared for her. But if he’d only just learned it, how could he make her believe it? Even if she did come around to believing it, would she give him a say in the matter? Wasn’t this also his choice to make?
He patted the gift card he’d taken from his Aunt Sophie, the other night. He’d kept it with him ever since, carrying it around in his breast pocket.
He had to think carefully about what to write on it.
The words were important.
His thoughts had been fixed on giving Meggie her miracle.
Perhaps he needed a miracle, too.
Chapter Eight
The mistletoe was up in Lotheil Court. Servants were bustling about, readying the house for this evening’s musicale that featured an Italian opera singer and a renowned English harpist who the family had taken to calling ‘not Lily, thank God’ because it didn’t matter who she was, only that she wasn’t Lily and their ears would not bleed when she started to play.
Meggie was dressed in a gown of dark green silk and her hair had been fashionably styled so that one side was pulled back and rolled into loose curls while the other side was left to fall freely over one shoulder in a wave of softer curls.
She rarely wore her hair down while in London, although she often did when in the Highlands. The Scots were used to women with red hair, but the English weren’t. She’d even heard a sour, old stodge or two mutter something about her having devil’s hair. But tonight, she was among friends and family. Tonight, was a night for revelry and merriment. She fully meant to take advantage.
Telling William that she loved him had somehow freed her completely.
She would not marry him. But she would lure him under the mistletoe and then ask him to kiss her with passionate abandon. She wanted him to kiss her with enough heat to make the house catch blaze.
Perhaps she would ask for more than a kiss.
She was still working her way up to that bold request.
What harm could there be if there was no danger in his ruining her? They both knew there would be no unexpected consequences. However, she’d start with a kiss first. She wasn’t quite ready to make that next leap.
Her grandfather walked downstairs and saw her staring at the wadded ball of white and green that dangled over the parlor doorway. “Don’t even consider kissing that young man. I’ll have him run out of London if he tries anything untoward.”
Meggie smothered her irritation, not at her grandfather but at herself. Was she that transparent? Would everyone take one look at her and know exactly what she was thinking? “William isn’t going to kiss me.” But she was going to try her very best to kiss him. No one was going to stop her, not even her grandfather.
He eyed her with suspicion. “I shall lock you in your bedchamber and–”
“Even if I did wish to kiss him, where is the harm? I’m not going to marry him. That’s what really concerns you.” Her eyes began to water, but she fought back her tears. She was going to enjoy this evening and nothing anyone said was going to steal her moment of joy or interfere with her plan.
“I’ll be watching you, Meggie. Don’t do anything foolish.” He gave a shake of his head and then stalked off to attend to some urgent business matters with his man of affairs.
As he disappeared into his library, Meggie strolled from one grand room to another, surveying the party preparations. All appeared to be in good order, for her grandfather’s long-time housekeeper, Mrs. Crenshaw, was quite capable.
Lotheil Court, usually an i
mposing and austere house, was as cheerful as she’d ever seen it. Holly and mistletoe draped the walls, sparkling crystal and shining silver glistened on every table. Hearth fires blazed, wall sconces and candelabras had been polished to a blinding gleam.
Meggie strolled into the music room where the violinists were setting up their stands and music sheets. There would be lively dancing well into the evening once the opera singer’s recital was over and the harpist had stopped putting everyone to sleep with her celestial strumming.
She followed several footmen into the dining hall. They were carrying silver trays laden with fish, wild game, and abundant desserts. The tables groaned under the weight of the food set out upon them. In the center of the main table was an eye-catching ice carving of an angel. The sculpture was so delicately done, it could have been made of Venetian glass.
“Meggie, you look lovely,” Evie said, finding her as she inspected the desserts. “Des and Adelaide will be along shortly. Have Lily and Ewan arrived yet? Grandfather wanted all of his grandchildren here before the guests arrived.”
“I’m sure they’ll be here soon. You look beautiful, Evie.” Her cousin had on a gown of shimmering, pale lavender silk and she looked like a fairy princess. “Did George come with you?”
What she really wanted to know was whether William had arrived with them.
Evie grinned, easily seeing through her question. “George is here. William is coming later on his own.” She took Meggie’s hands in hers. “He’ll be here.”
Meggie’s shoulders sagged. “This is awful. First Grandfather and now you. Are my thoughts so obvious?”
“Yes, to those of us who know and love you. Don’t despair, Meggie. I know exactly how you feel. I fell in love with George the moment I met him, but it took him an eternity to come around to admitting he loved me. I looked for him at every party. I followed him around. I spied on him once and fell into a massive, thorny rosebush because I was too busy looking at him and not watching where I was going.” She shook her head and sighed. “You can’t possibly do anything more foolish than I did.”
Meggie couldn’t help but laugh. “Thank you, Evie. I’ll do my best to stay clear of the Lotheil rose bushes.”
Ewan and Lily arrived a few minutes later, and Meggie knew by the scowl on Ewan’s face that their grandfather had told him about her plans for William. “Not you, too, Ewan.”
“Och, Meggie. I don’t want to see your feelings hurt.” He arched an eyebrow. “And I’m not letting any man put his hands on you unless he’s willing to marry you.”
She tipped her head up and glowered at her brother. “He is willing.” She did not know if it was true, but William did care for her deeply.
“Good, then he can wait until you’re married to touch you. I’ll be watching him.”
“Oh, perfect.” She rolled her eyes. “I don’t need my big brother’s protection. And must I remind you that you were anything but a gentleman with Lily? So, who are you to cast the first stone?”
He folded his arms over his chest. “I married her. I was madly in love with her.”
“And you think William can’t possibly love me?” She knew her brother was just being protective of her, but it still hurt that he had so little confidence in her.
He groaned and unfolded his arms to wrap them around her and give her a hug. “No, Megs. You know it isn’t what I mean.”
She hugged him back. “I know. But…” How could she explain her reasons to her brother without revealing her secret? As big and brawny as he was, he’d be in tears when she told him what the fever had stolen from her. No, she couldn’t say a word yet. “Very well, I won’t kiss William under the mistletoe. Happy now? You can report the news to Grandfather.”
“Megs–”
“It doesn’t matter, Ewan. He isn’t likely to agree to it anyway.” She walked out of the room and slipped out onto the terrace in the hope of a moment alone. She wanted to cry in frustration. How would she ever get her kiss while every Farthingale and Cameron in existence was watching her every move?
She sank onto a cold bench and gazed out over the flower beds that held no flowers at this time of year. Barren. Just like her.
She hadn’t been outside long before she felt someone standing quietly behind her. She turned, half expecting to find her grandfather. Instead, she saw William.
He closed the distance between them. “Megs, it’s cold out here. Come inside.”
Her heart began to flutter as he strode toward her, for the sight of him always left her a little breathless and her mind in a tizzy. “How did you know I was out here?”
He came around so that he faced her, then propped one foot on the stone bench beside her and cast her a wistful smile. “Your grandfather told me.”
Her eyes rounded in surprise. “He said he would lock me away if I so much as–” She shook her head and sighed. “Never mind. I’m just surprised he’d let you anywhere near me.”
William removed his jacket and moved closer to wrap it around her shoulders. The little flutter of her heart turned into an erratically pounding beat. He looked divine. The light scent of musk, his scent, was on his jacket and now surrounded her. She was not only breathless and her heart in a flutter, but she was now aroused. Lily had once told her about how male animals drew females to them during mating season by marking their scent around their territory.
The females responded with frenzied heat.
Goodness, she hadn’t expected it to apply to her as well.
William cleared his throat to regain her attention, for she’d closed her eyes and her thoughts had drifted somewhere they should not have gone. “No more surprised than I, Megs. But your grandfather had the oddest look on his face when he pointed me in your direction. Did you tell him…did you say anything about your condition?”
“No, not yet.”
He fussed with the jacket, making certain she was securely wrapped in it and warm enough. “Do you think he suspects?”
“I really don’t think so.” She blushed lightly. “I told him that I wanted to kiss you.”
She heard William’s sharp intake of air. “You told him what?” He turned to glance at the house, then slowly settled his gaze on her. “Are you jesting?”
“No.”
He groaned. “Megs, why did you tell him such a thing? I’m amazed he didn’t have me shot on sight.”
“I told my brother, too.”
He groaned again. “Why?”
“I didn’t mean to, but my grandfather saw me staring at the mistletoe and knew at once what I was thinking. He told Ewan. I promised them that I wouldn’t kiss you under the mistletoe.” She shook her head and sighed. “All this fuss and I don’t even know if you would have agreed to kiss me. Ever.”
He laughed. “Seriously? I’m not that complicated, Megs.”
“Does that mean you would have agreed?” Her eyes once more rounded in surprise. What was she doing? She refused to get her hopes up. What if he was jesting? “Do you want to kiss me now, William? I wouldn’t be breaking any promises. There is no mistletoe out here.”
He stroked his finger along the curve of her jaw and cast her a lopsided smile. “I want to kiss you more than I want to take my next breath. How’s that for an answer?”
She returned his smile, her heart now beating in wild anticipation. “It’s a very good answer. I give you my permission.”
Instead of bending toward her to claim her lips, he frowned and turned away. “It doesn’t work that way, Megs.” He ran a hand roughly through his hair, that tell-tale habit of his whenever he was troubled, and then turned back to stare at her.
The bench was cold and that icy chill was seeping through the delicate silk of her gown. Perhaps it was cold dread that had suddenly rushed through her. She shivered as she tipped her head upward to gaze at him. “Then how does it work?”
“It just happens.”
She nodded and closed her eyes. “I’m letting it just happen. Should I stand?”
�
��Why is it so important to kiss me now, Megs?”
She opened her eyes and regarded him with confusion, then rose to stand by his side. She handed him back his jacket, for as delicious as the scent of him was on the smooth fabric, she preferred to have his arms wrapped around her and not these yards of material. “Because I love you.”
He tossed his jacket onto the bench and took her in his arms. “Because you love me? Or because you love me and this is your goodbye kiss before you send me on my merry way? I won’t ever agree to kiss you if that is the reason.”
Meggie stiffened in his arms. “Why are you being so difficult? You just said you weren’t very complicated, so let’s keep this uncomplicated.”
“No, Megs. I’ll never kiss you if it means losing you.”
She inhaled lightly. “We’ll still be friends. We’d never lose that. So what would you be losing? Why deprive me of this one joy?”
He wrapped her more firmly in his arms when he saw that she was still shivering, drawing her up against his hard, solid body so that she could absorb his heat. “There is no joy in what you have planned. You want our first kiss to be a last kiss as well, one that you will cherish into your dotage. You want to get it out of the way so we can both go on with our separate lives. You want me to find someone who will give me children. And will that make you happy? Do you think you’ll be satisfied with holding on to the memory of the one kiss we shared?”
“A perfect memory with the man I happen to love.” She tried to pull out of his arms, but he wouldn’t let her go, so she stopped struggling and grudgingly nestled herself against him. He had a fine body, muscled and warm, and his hands were gentle as they caressed her skin through the silk fabric of her gown. “What’s wrong with that, William? Why are you so determined to ruin this moment for me? Why can’t I have moonlight and starlight and magic for this one evening?”
He released her and began to pace in front of her. “You have it all tied in a neat bow. Get your kiss and walk away. Everyone satisfied, nobody hurt. Is that what you think? Love isn’t neat, Megs. It’s maddening and messy and turns your life upside down. It’s a powerful tidal swell that crashes down on you and crushes your soul. It finds you no matter how far away you are. But it also has the power to bring you back home, bring you back from the dead and deliver you where you belong. All you have to do is believe in it.”
A Night of Angels Page 7
