An Imperfect Engagement

by Alyssa Drake

  “Benjamin,” Miss Hastings moaned, her body falling into his guided rhythm. His lips danced across her soft skin, etching a trail of fire along her neck.

  “I should make you beg, for all the worry you caused me this morning,” he murmured. “That will teach you to listen to me.”

  “Please,” she pleaded, grinding her hips into him. “Please, Benjamin.”

  “Whatever you desire, my Lady.” He grinned. Tugging down the edge of her chemise with his teeth, his mouth grazed her breast. She moaned. Grabbing her hips, Benjamin thrust deep, driving himself into her as she came apart.

  His name echoed through the coach when she reached her climax. Benjamin followed quickly, burying himself in her as he tumbled over the edge. Wrapping her tightly in his arms, he shuddered several times before his breathing returned to normal. Miss Hastings collapsed into his chest, drawing a finger over the sensitive skin peeking out from between his shirt collar.

  “I missed you.” She murmured against his shirt and sighed, her eyes fluttering close.

  “Infinitely better than my last carriage ride,” he said, pressing his mouth against her forehead.

  Benjamin’s eyes snapped open, his arms immediately tensing around Miss Hastings. She was curled into his chest. Safe. He twitched the curtain aside. The carriage bounced down the drive toward Westwood Estate. Thankfully, the engagement luncheon dispersed several hours prior. He glanced down.

  Miss Hastings gazed at him with a sleepy smile. She nuzzled closer, shivering from the cold air which seeped under the carriage door. His mouth finding hers, her eager response reignited his earlier passion. Hooking her arms around his neck, she pressed her body into him. Benjamin lifted her onto his lap, his arms wrapped low around her waist. He brushed the lightest of kisses across her bruised lips, which parted expectantly.

  “I fear this will be the last of our privacy for a while,” he said, pressing a final kiss on her mouth. “We have arrived at my mother’s house.”

  A cacophony of sound exploded from outside the carriage as Benjamin spoke those words. Miss Hastings sighed. Depositing her on the bench next to him, he patted her hand, flashing a grin.

  “Miss Hastings, I fear I must warn you. Over the next few weeks, I shall endeavor to seduce you at every chance I encounter.”

  The carriage door was ripped open and Benjamin yanked from the coach. He was swallowed by a crowd of ladies, both old and young. They shunted him aside with several clucks concerning his haggard appearance. Miss Hastings they favored with many exclamations of shock and sympathy regarding her appalling condition. Benjamin wondered how the exuberant well-wishers would affect Miss Hastings’ psyche. She looked rather overwhelmed by the concentrated attention. Only Miss Clemens remained on the exterior of the group, awkwardly out of place as she hovered near Benjamin.

  “Thank you for finding Miss Hastings, Lord Westwood,” Miss Clemens whispered shyly before an arm snaked out of the huddle and sucked her into the group of women.

  Mrs. Hastings succeeded in convincing the other ladies to allow Miss Hastings to climb from the carriage without assistance. However, Miss Hastings stumbled on the footstep and tumbled forward; several hands righted her.

  None of them his. Benjamin mused sourly as he watched the ladies fret over Miss Hastings. She disappeared in a sea of colorful frocks, carried toward the house.

  Mr. Davis materialized by Benjamin’s side. “Miss Hastings will be well cared for.” His gravelly voice was surprisingly filled with emotion.

  Benjamin did not flinch at the sudden appearance of his manservant. He did, however, arch an eyebrow. “Sentiment, Mr. Davis? I am surprised by your attachment.”

  “She is to be the future lady of the house, is she not, my Lord?”

  “She is.” Benjamin nodded, catching sight of Miss Hastings’ chestnut hair in the light emanating from the lanterns hanging along the veranda. She turned to search him out, offering a tiny wave before the gaggle ushered her into the foyer.

  “A fine choice, my Lord,” said Mr. Davis, nonchalantly.

  “Were you concerned regarding my ability to select an acceptable companion?” Benjamin chuckled softly.

  “I am no longer in doubt as to the state of your mind,” replied Mr. Davis as he gathered the horses’ reins and bounded lithely onto the driver’s bench. Before he drove the horses to the stables, he allowed one final comment to slip. “I would have been less satisfied to be reacquainted with my prior employer.”

  Silent for a moment, Benjamin watched the sun slide slowly below the horizon. He reflected on Mr. Davis’ final remark. Even the servants disliked the family. Mr. Davis refused to speak about his previous employment. Benjamin wondered which reason drove Mr. Davis to resign from the Shirely household. Benjamin’s thoughts sifted through the day’s atrocious events. Would he have risked his life for Miss Shirely?

  “You seem perturbed.” His mother addressed him from the veranda, her silhouette flickering in the lamp light.

  “I was unaware you could observe my expression from such a great distance,” he replied, strolling across the yard.

  She laughed. “Benjamin, you have been standing in the exact same position for the last five minutes. Obviously, something is bothering you.”

  The whinny of horses caught Benjamin’s attention. His eyes scanned the drive, straining in the darkness to make out two shadows. A moment later, Thomas and Edward appeared, wearing grim expressions. Thomas shook his head as he dismounted, stalking the last several meters to Benjamin’s side, blowing out an exasperated sigh. Benjamin glanced at the veranda, but his mother had discreetly disappeared.

  Edward slid from his horse and approached stiffly, his jaw set rigidly. “Thomas and I have been discussing the situation.”

  Thomas remained unusually silent, an indication of a disagreement between the two men.

  “Your brother believes we need to inform the female members of our families of the current circumstances regarding our safety.”

  “And you are in disagreement with this suggestion?” Benjamin smirked. Edward would be against anything which involved telling Miss Hastings the truth.

  “I am,” Edward said, folding his arms.

  “Miss Hastings is already aware of the impending danger, having experienced much trauma at Morris’ hand,” replied Benjamin, tilting his head. “She looks frightful; the ladies are bound to question her injuries.”

  Several emotions rolled across Edward’s face—denial, anger and lastly guilt. “I know.”

  “You cannot protect everyone unless they are localized,” Benjamin said. “We need to remain here until Morris is captured.”

  “The ladies will want to know why they have been restricted to the country estate,” Thomas calmly interjected.

  Edward scowled at him. “My daughters do not need nightmares.”

  “He is not suggesting we scare the children.” Benjamin placed his hand on Edward’s shoulder. “However, your wife deserves to know the truth.”

  “As does your mother,” Edward replied, smacking away Benjamin’s arm.

  “We told her.”

  “What about Aunt Abigail?” asked Thomas. His eyes shifted to the house, watching silhouettes dance in front of the sitting-room window.

  “Mother would have informed Aunt Abigail by now,” replied Benjamin. Thomas snickered.

  “Even so, I suppose we should extend the warning to Mrs. Stanton as well as her new charge, Miss Clemens,” Edward said after a moment.

  “Miss Clemens knows more than you think.” Having quite astutely pieced most of the puzzle together on her own.

  “Can no one keep a secret?” Edward threw his hands in the air.

  “Nope.” Thomas draped a friendly arm over Edward’s shoulders, leading him toward the house. “Do you suppose there is any food left over from the luncheon?”

  Rolling his eyes, Edward glanced back at Benjamin. “How can you have dealt with this for almost thirty years?”

  “It has been extremely tryi
ng at times.” Grinning, Benjamin limped beside them. Thomas punched him in the arm.

  As they entered the house, Mrs. Hastings sailed at Edward, nearly knocking him over in her relief. He wrapped his arms around her, swinging her in a wide circle in order to maintain his balance. Shamelessly, he kissed her, a display of affection Benjamin rarely witnessed from the proper couple. He ached for Miss Hastings.

  “I would like to have a discussion with the members of both families,” Edward said as he set his wife carefully on her feet. He refused to release her, one arm remaining locked around Mrs. Hastings’ waist. “Where is Sammie?”

  “She is in the dining room with Lady Westwood and Mrs. Stanton. They are plying her with food.” Mrs. Hastings sighed as she laid her head against Edward’s chest.

  “Excellent.” Thomas clapped his hands in delight and jauntily walked down the hallway toward the wafting smell of food.

  Edward and Mrs. Hastings followed, whispering soft sentiments to each other. Benjamin lagged behind, his eyes scanning the courtyard one last time before he closed the front door.

  “Do you know the length of our stay?” Mr. Davis asked unobtrusively from the shadows of the foyer.

  “Indefinitely,” replied Benjamin, wrenching the lock.

  “I shall need to travel to town tomorrow to collect some necessities,” Mr. Davis said, stepping into the center of the foyer.

  “Meet with me in the morning prior to your departure, I have an errand for you as well.” Benjamin turned toward him.

  Producing the dollhouse, Mr. Davis held out the grimy toy. “I collected this from the carriage.”

  Benjamin nodded his approval. “Place that on my desk in the study.”

  “Yes, my Lord.” Mr. Davis bowed and retreated, leaving Benjamin to hobble across the foyer toward the dining room.

  Miss Hastings’ eyes instantly rose to Benjamin’s face when he entered the room. He offered her a lopsided grin and limped to the foot of the table where the only empty chair remained. At the head of the table sat Edward, to his right and left, his wife and sister, respectively. Aunt Abigail and his mother conversed animatedly to Benjamin’s left. Thomas, seated to Benjamin’s right, mumbled something around a mouthful of food and stabbed his fork at the two ladies across from him. Benjamin smirked.

  Between Thomas and Miss Hastings, Miss Clemens sat quietly, picking at her plate, invisible in her misery. She furtively glanced sideways at Thomas several times but remained mute. Miss Hastings leaned over and whispered something to the younger girl, who smiled gratefully in return.

  Edward cleared his throat, and silence blanketed the room. He looked over the expectant faces and spoke solemnly. “I realize I have been less than forthcoming regarding the recent events affecting our families. It has been pointed out perhaps the lack of information may have led to Sammie’s abduction.”

  Thomas bent over his plate, shoveling food into his mouth as quickly as possible, refusing to look at Edward. Benjamin glanced at Thomas oddly, wondering what other parts he missed from the unpleasant conversation between Thomas and Edward. Out of the corner of his eye, Benjamin noticed Miss Hastings placed her hand gently on Miss Clemens’ trembling arm.

  “Therefore, I have a few pieces of information I am compelled to share. First, I wish to express my gratitude to Benjamin and Thomas for bringing Samantha back to us alive.”

  Edward paused and nodded to both men. An unspoken conversation occurred among them—a permanently forged connection between the families. Edward had given his official consent to the marriage. He cleared his throat and resumed speaking.

  “Second, the person responsible for Samantha’s abduction, the attempt on my life, and the murder of my father was Mr. Franklin Morris. We have alerted the authorities.”

  “As well as the society papers,” said Thomas. Edward grimaced and sighed unhappily.

  Ah, that was the other part of the disagreement. Thomas realized the only way to protect Miss Hastings’ reputation from vicious gossip—regarding her absence from the engagement party and her unchaperoned escapade—was to admit to the kidnapping. It was not a terrible scheme. By including the ton in their tragedy, they gained a lot of supporters—and their eyes. Edward, being an extremely private individual, would have rejected that plan vehemently. Benjamin was shocked the discussion did not come to blows. He glanced at Thomas who returned to his plate without another word.

  “It is important we are vigilant until Franklin is brought to justice. Also, Samantha has informed us Franklin was not working alone. There is an unknown person who assisted with his escape this afternoon and in doing so, killed Mr. Walton.”

  There were several gasps around the table, including Mrs. Hastings who paled considerably. Miss Hastings continued to pat Miss Clemens’ arm reassuringly, a monochromic rhythm of tranquility. The younger girl looked on the verge of fainting.

  “I am glad everyone realizes the severity of the situation which we now find ourselves. With the upcoming union between Benjamin and Samantha, both our families are in grave danger. Therefore, we,”—he indicated himself along with Benjamin and Thomas—“believe it would be best for everyone to remain here where we can all watch over each other.”

  “I would be delighted to have everyone as my guests.” Benjamin’s mother beamed. “We have more than enough rooms to accommodate everyone.”

  “Are we to remain prisoners on this estate indefinitely?” asked Aunt Abigail, her wizened eyes narrowed slightly.

  “Not at all,” replied Edward with an easy smile. “We are merely asking, for your safety, you do not travel outside these grounds alone.”

  “I have a busy social schedule to uphold,” replied Aunt Abigail blithely.

  His mother snorted and demurely covered the sound with a ladylike cough. “I regret to inform you, my dear Abigail, you may have to forego some of those activities.”

  “Especially now that Mr. Flannery is mucking about with a loaded rifle,” muttered Benjamin.

  His mother’s head whipped up. “Why is Mr. Flannery wandering around with a weapon? I was under the impression his son was caring for him.”

  “He is,” replied Benjamin. “I had an encounter with the two of them earlier today. Aidan offered their assistance.”

  “Was that wise? Mr. Flannery has had an extremely difficult time since the death of his wife.”

  “Touched,” said Aunt Abigail, pressing her fingertips to the side of her head. “Poor man, he loved Noreen deeply.”

  “Alana is returning to assist Aidan with that particular situation,” replied Benjamin quietly, watching Thomas who flinched, his fork scraping along the plate.

  Thomas glanced up from his hunched position, his eyes quickly scanning the table, his gaze skipping to Benjamin. A myriad of wild emotions, which threatened to unravel Thomas, danced across his face, his jaw locked. Without speaking, Thomas bent his head and put another forkful to his mouth. Mechanically scraping and chewing, the resolute activity took most of Thomas’ concentration. Perturbed, Benjamin looked away from Thomas’ forced façade. Alana’s timing was dreadful.

  “Cousin Alana taught me how to shoot one summer,” Miss Hastings whispered noisily to Miss Clemens whose brown eyes lighted with delight.

  “Perhaps we can convince her to instruct me as well.” She smiled shyly.

  “A wonderful way to pass the time,” said Aunt Abigail with a wink. “How delightfully inappropriate.”

  “We will not be shirking our social obligations either,” Edward added with a slight frown, owing to the direction of the conversation. “The whole of society is aware of Franklin’s crimes. It is highly doubtful he will attempt anything in public.”

  Miss Hastings glanced at Edward suspiciously. “What upcoming social obligations do we have?”

  “The Shirely masque is six days’ time,” Miss Clemens murmured to her lap.

  Miss Hastings groaned, slumping in her chair. Benjamin caught her eye and winked, causing the delightful blush that he thoroughly enjoy
ed. Quickly, she glanced down, hiding her rouged face.

  Thomas looked up from his near-empty plate, his face a mixture of confusion and curiosity. “I was unaware you enjoyed social functions, Miss Clemens.”

  Miss Clemens blushed from Thomas’ direct attention. “I do not, Mr. Reid. However, since we have received an invitation, it would be impolite to decline.”

  “I wonder if her fingers caught fire while addressing those invitations,” muttered Miss Hastings, just loud enough for the entire table to hear. Miss Clemens giggled.

  “Samantha!” Mrs. Hastings admonished. “Your honest opinion of Miss Shirely does not need to be shared with your elders.”

  “Even when they agree with you,” said Abigail with a smirk.

  Miss Hastings did not respond, carefully laying her fork next to her plate. Her skin paled quickly, almost graying in the light. Benjamin was on his feet before she fell out of the chair.

  “What did Franklin give her?” Edward bellowed as he flew to his sister’s side.

  “Mr. Davis thought it might be an overdose of laudanum,” replied Benjamin grimly, lifting Miss Hastings from the ground. “However, the effects should have worn off by now.”

  She stirred. Opening her eyes, Miss Hastings seemed extremely surprised to find herself in Benjamin’s arms again. “I would like some fresh air,” she mumbled thickly.

  Edward reached out, but Benjamin twisted away, refusing to release his hold. “I will take her,” he growled.

  Mrs. Hastings appeared beside her husband and placed a restricting hand on his arm. “Let him go, Edward.”

  Miss Hastings gagged. Benjamin spun in haste, navigating the hallway in mere seconds. Ripping open the door, a cool breeze smacked him in the face. Gently, he set her down on the wooden steps. She took several deep breaths with her eyes squeezed shut tightly.

  Benjamin dropped down beside her, wrapping an arm over her shaking shoulders. “If you would rather decline the Shirely ball, I would happily make our excuses.”