Promised proper romance, p.14
Promised (Proper Romance), page 14
My breath whooshed out of me in shock. “Gone? Where would she go?”
My father and brother raced into the room, both dripping water onto the floor.
“She isn’t in the stables,” Daniel said.
“Nor could I find her anywhere near the house,” my father puffed.
“Father! You should not be out in this weather. You’ll get ill.” I quickly pulled his wet overcoat from him.
“What does it matter? Your sister is out there somewhere in this storm.”
Lord Williams stepped forward. “Perhaps she got lost between the lake and here. I’ll go search for her.”
“I’ll go with you,” I said.
He shook his head. “You are already wet. You should stay here and get warm.”
“You are just as wet as I am—more so, in fact, because I had your coat.”
He looked down at his clothes, as though just remembering their dampness.
“Lord Williams, thank you for your offer,” my mother interjected. “It would be a great comfort to know you are looking as well.” I stared at her, shocked that she had agreed so easily. Only a deep concern for Alice’s welfare would convince her to include a guest in family matters.
He nodded. “It was on my account that she was out in the first place.”
“I insist on being included,” I said.
Daniel shook his head. “Stay here. Get dry. We’ll find her.”
“I can at least search the garden.”
“Do you really think she is there?” Lord Williams asked, looking at me doubtfully. “I will search there only as a precaution and retread the path back to the lake.”
“I know the way best. You will need me. I could—”
He leaned close, pretending to adjust his coat. “Stay here. Please,” he whispered. “I will concentrate better knowing that you are safe.”
I looked up to search his expression. However, he looked away as though he hadn’t said anything. His words warmed me better than any fire, but it was Alice who was lost out in the storm. Dear Alice. What if for some reason I was the only one who could find her? On the other hand, what if I wasn’t here when she came home? I gritted my teeth and glanced around. My father and mother had to stay in as well. I could not pretend to care more for her than they did.
I sighed. “I will stay.”
My father began struggling back into his coat. I placed a hand on his arm and said quietly, so that no one else heard, “Father, you cannot go back out. You will be no good to Alice or anyone if you become ill.”
“What good am I sitting around?”
“If you fall ill, it will take attention away from Alice, who is sure to become ill herself from being out in this weather after so recently having a cold.”
Pain flashed through my father’s eyes before he bowed his head. “I am not much of a father when I cannot even go outside to search for my own daughter.”
“Alice adores you. She could never doubt your love.”
He met my gaze briefly before looking away. “I shall be in the study.”
Daniel stepped next to me as our father slipped out the door. “Thank you. I didn’t know how I was going to convince him to stay in.”
“Just find her quickly. If anything happens to her—” I clasped his arm.
Placing a comforting hand over mine, he said, “We’ll find her. Don’t worry. My lord? If you’re ready.” Daniel and Lord Williams hurried out the door.
I left my mother in the parlor and went to ensure a large fire was burning in Alice’s room and water was boiling in the kitchen for her bath before I changed into dry clothes. After that, there was nothing left for me to do except pace around the parlor and strain to see outside the window every time I passed it. My mother sat on the settee, staring at her sewing.
“Margaret, do be still,” she said after a while.
“I can’t. I should be out there looking for her.”
“You should be doing no such thing.” But my mother sounded as though she wished she were outside as well.
A few minutes later, she set down her sewing. “I will be in my room. Summon me the moment she is found.”
“Of course.”
After she left, I sat at the piano, but the thought of even attempting to distract myself reeked of treachery. I arose and searched out the windows for any sign of movement. The seconds turned to minutes, the minutes to quarter hours, then half hours. There was no movement except the rain splattering against the glass.
What if they failed to find her? What if something horrible had happened to her? I turned from the window and walked to the fire. I would not be able to bear life if anything happened to Alice. She was the ray of sunshine and happiness in our family. We would all be pitiful without her.
My thoughts darted back to the lake. Alice had been up to something then. I should have asked her what it was. I should have demanded we see her safely home.
And Lord Williams. . . . He’d stood so close to me, declared openly that it was him I should want. Arrogant man.
I smiled. Only he could be wholly arrogant and incredibly alluring at the same time.
Had he really thought about kissing me?
The idea made my cheeks hot and my lips tingle.
I frowned at my own foolishness. This was not good. I did not find Lord Williams alluring. Or any other complimentary descriptor.
Resuming my stance at the window, I peered into the dark. Enough time had passed for the grounds and gardens to be searched, and perhaps near the lake as well, yet the men had still not returned. I had no idea where they were, where they had gone to look. The storm worsened, the rain pounding against the window like thrown pebbles, the clatter dimmed only by the roaring wind.
Alice’s favorite maid, Mary, entered the room. “Any word? We’re all so anxious.”
“Nothing,” I replied. “I shall be sure to inform you the moment I know anything. Alice’s room is ready for her return?”
“Yes, miss.”
“Thank you,” I said. She curtsied and left.
I resumed pacing. Alice had to be safe. She had to be brought home. No other option was thinkable.
It was frustrating, this waiting. I wished I were with Daniel and Lord Williams and the male servants.
The clock chimed, marking two hours since the men had departed. I fell into a chair. It was the same chair Lord Williams preferred, the one he had begun to occupy every night after dinner. I rubbed my hands along its arms and thought of how my family adored him. Alice especially. She always blushed and smiled whenever he noticed her.
Where was she?
I went to the window once more, forcing my palm wide against the glass, allowing the cold to seep into my skin. There was a lull in the wind and though it was still dark from the storm, I could just make out the trees across the lawn. A boom of thunder made me jump. Then there—that was a light. A man cradling a bundle.
I grabbed one of the blankets that had been set near the fire to warm and ran to the portico.
Lord Williams appeared, Alice curled in his arms. He carried her into the house while I struggled to place the blanket around her.
“I found her huddled beside the boulder,” he said quietly.
“The boulder? She’s so wet. And her skin—it’s so cold. Why was she there?”
He shook his head. “Where should I put her?”
“In her room. This way.”
Alice’s eyes fluttered open. “Margaret?”
“I’m here, Alice. You are going to be all right.” I stroked her cheek, tucking a limp curl behind her ear.
“It didn’t work,” she said, her voice hoarse and shaking.
I placed my palm against the side of her face. We needed to get her warm. “Shh. Don’t talk.”
“I told him about Edward.”
Why was she mentioning this now? “I know, Alice. It’s all right.”
She coughed, then said, “I thought he would leave, like you wanted.”
Foreboding clamped in my chest. “Alice, honey, shh. Lord Williams is going to carry you to your room. You shall soon be warm.”
“He is going to take you away.” Her eyes shimmered and tears mingled with rain slid down her cheeks.
Alice had told Lord Williams about Edward in an attempt to get him to leave—because this morning I had said that was exactly what I wanted. She was wet and shivering and would likely come down with another cold because of me.
“I will never leave you.” I pressed a kiss to her forehead. She slowly closed her eyes again.
Guilt gnawed at me. Alice had waited to ensure her plan had worked rather than return to the house. And instead of seeing Lord Williams pull away, she’d seen him draw nearer. She’d seen him almost kiss me. What must she have thought?
“Her room is this way.”
He followed me up the stairs to my sister’s room. Mary was stoking the fire into a blaze. “Mary, Lord Williams has found Alice. Please inform my mother of her return.” She nodded and raced out the door.
I glanced around. An empty tub was set near the fire, but it would take several minutes to fill it. And Alice would have to be undressed. “On the bed would be best.”
Lord Williams laid her on the bed much more tenderly than Daniel would have and stepped back but didn’t leave. I worked to dry her hair and neck, ignoring his presence.
My mother ran into the room, followed closely by Mary.
“Oh, my darling girl.” My mother fell to her knees next to the bedside and clasped Alice’s hands, bringing them to her cheeks and then kissing them.
Alice opened her eyes. “Mama?”
“You’re safe. Oh, thank heavens you are safe. Mary, help me get her things off.” I reached for her dress, but my mother stopped me. “No, Margaret. Mary and I will attend to her.”
I stepped back in understanding. My mother blamed this on me. Alice would never have been outside but for me. And though my mother didn’t yet know it, Alice had stayed in the rain only because I’d made a scene this morning, so her blame was just.
My mother glanced at Lord Williams. “My lord, I can never thank you enough for rescuing my daughter. Margaret, see to Lord Williams. He will need something to eat and a chair by the fire.”
“Yes, Mother.” I turned and, without glancing at Lord Williams, walked into the hall, stopping at the top of the stairs near his door. “I am sure you wish to change. There will be a warm meal for you whenever you are ready.”
“Thank you.” He disappeared inside his room.
He had rescued Alice. He had saved her. I was in his debt, and the only repayment he seemed to desire was my consent to the marriage.
Twenty-One
“Father, Lord Williams found Alice. She is home,” I said, peeking into the study.
My father placed his hand over his heart and sighed. “Thank you.”
“I am getting something for him from the kitchen. Will you be eating as well?”
He shook his head. “Perhaps later. I want to see my daughter.”
I stepped out of the way as he passed. He stopped and turned. “Margaret, Lord Williams is a good man.”
Yes. And that was the problem.
I was in the dining room, using a poker to stir the fire, when Lord Williams entered. Did he know how his coat brought out the blue of his eyes, even from across the room? I quickly straightened and rang for a servant. “Your meal will be here in a moment.” The table was already set; it lacked only food.
“Thank you.”
He stood awkwardly, as though hesitant to be near me but having no other place to go. The fire felt overwhelmingly hot, so I stepped away. “You should warm yourself.”
Walking forward, he stood a moment before the fire, hands at his side, before placing a hand on the mantel with a frown. He glanced at me, then straightened and turned to me.
“Miss Brinton, you have made your dislike both of me and of the prospect of marriage to me perfectly plain on more than one occasion. Therefore, I see no reason to continue as we are. I will speak to your father. If he is agreeable, let us end this engagement to which you are so averse.”
End the engagement? Was he in earnest?
I was to be set at liberty to keep my promise once again. “You would do this?”
He frowned. “Contrary to what you think of me, I am a man of conscience. Your sister’s being lost was entirely my fault.” He shook his head. “I should never have allowed this to continue for so long.”
What did he mean? “Allowed what to continue?”
“You made your feelings for me quite clear at that unfortunate party. I should have known this would be impossible. One cannot convince a person who will not see reason.” It was a reiteration of his words from the Hickmores’, but this time he said it almost to himself, his tone sounding tired and a little sad. His frown deepened. “However, I again assert that my cousin is not for you. Choose someone else, someone with enough sense to support you comfortably but with a strong constitution to withstand your opinions, for you will be discontent otherwise.”
He truly was releasing me. It was over.
The rush of relief I should have felt never came. Instead, the lingering warmth from the fire turned cold and an uncertainty that this wasn’t what I really wanted needled at me. “It is not that I dislike you—”
He held up a hand, stopping me. “You needn’t concern yourself with soothing my vanity. We have enjoyed being rather forthright with each other. I do not care to muddle it with false words and sentiments.”
A kitchen maid entered with platters of food and set them on the table before leaving.
“My lord—”
He sighed but didn’t protest my use of his title.
It was indeed over. “Thank you.”
He nodded.
How awkward it was now to notice the way his hair curled under the influence of the drying heat or how his coat didn’t quite hide the muscular shape of his shoulders or the way his eyes, now distant and closed, still spoke of safety.
He truly was nearly as handsome as Mr. Northam, though in a different way. There was no darkness to his features, no alluring mystery about his character. There was no playful beckoning but a serious, honest openness to his expression. If one were seeking love, Lord Williams was definitely preferable to Mr. Northam.
I moved to his seat, straightened the utensils and platters, then stepped away. “Everything is ready for you.”
He crossed toward me. “Are you not eating as well?”
I shook my head.
He seemed about to object, but stopped. “Won’t you be seated, at least?”
It was a small request. Gentlemanly.
I nodded. He assisted me with my chair before taking his own.
I studied him as he dished potatoes and steak from the platter. Alice was safe. He’d found her, staying in the storm for hours until he did. My father was correct; Lord Williams was a good man.
He was also self-important and overbearing. He’d displayed a want of consideration for others on more than one occasion. Yet had I not done the same?
At that moment the thing I desired more than anything else was for there to have never been an Edward, for him to have never interfered in my life. I wished that I had met Lord Williams first, and that I’d had the chance to call him Gregory. Even if it had come to naught, at least we would have had a chance.
But of course such a wish could never come true. And there was no reason to think of it any longer. It was over. He would most likely leave in the morning. And I would never see him again.
The door burst open. Realizing that I had unintentionally shifted closer to Lord Williams, I scrambled out of my chair. Daniel stood in the doorway, drenched but with a smile covering his face. “You found her.”
I clasped the back of the chair. “Yes. Lord Williams did. She’s in her room. Mother is with her. And Mary. And Father.” The words spilled forth uncontrollably in my effort to distance myself from the doubt within me. “Do you want something to eat? Here, you can have my chair.”
I turned the chair, offering it to Daniel while at the same time placing it as a wall between Lord Williams and myself. I didn’t dare look at him.
“Yes, food would be nice. I searched all the way to the Rosthorns’.” He trudged to the table, a line of wet footprints evidence of his recent expedition.
I frowned, finally coming to my senses. “Daniel, you are dripping water and mud everywhere.”
He shrugged and plopped into the chair. “I hardly think it matters tonight.” He pulled dishes toward him and started piling food on a plate. “Why didn’t she just come home?”
I glanced at Lord Williams. The smile was gone, a frown planted firmly in its place.
He blamed himself. But Alice’s being out there was just as much my fault. More, really, because I was her sister. I should have known what she was about.
“I don’t believe she thought it would rain quite so much, nor that it would be quite so cold,” I said.
“She and I discussed it at breakfast, didn’t we?” Daniel asked.
I didn’t know; I hadn’t eaten breakfast. This had all transpired because of the way I had acted before breakfast. “Earlier she’d hoped we could dance in it.”
“Well, at least she’s safe, thanks to you, my lord.”
Yes. Thanks to him.
I had to get away from him. Away from the way he made me wonder about breaking promises, about changing my mind. “Excuse me, please.”
I left the room, walked out the front door, and leaned against the stone wall of the house. The cold rain fell a few feet from me, the wind blowing occasional drops onto my face and arms. The chill of the stones seeped past my dress and crawled along my skin. I pressed against the stone with more force, needing to feel its cold bite.
This was what I’d needed, this cold to clear my mind and allow me to focus on the reality of my situation. Which was actually quite simple.
Lord Williams would leave and everything would return to normal, just as though we’d never met.
Twenty-Two
