An Imperfect Engagement

by Alyssa Drake

  “I believe you do,” he murmured. His friends closed around Sam with menacing grins.

  Miss Randall calmly placed a warning hand on Mr. Shirely’s chest, sliding it upward so she could grasp his chin, which she yanked toward her, speaking as one would to a child. “Robert, this is not the proper setting in which your complaint can be resolved.”

  He pouted, permitting Miss Randall to cajole him into submission. Dropping his arm from Sam’s shoulders, he allowed her to step away from him and the overwhelming smell of alcohol. His friends, taking their cue from him, loosened the semi-circle in which they surrounded Sam and Miss Randall.

  “Now, dear cousin,” Miss Randall said, her sweet tone barely a whisper. “I believe you offered to rescue two ladies in need. Are you a man of your word?”

  “I am,” he replied, his mouth pulled into a frown.

  “Excellent,” said Miss Randall, releasing her grip on his chin. “Shall we proceed? Gentlemen?”

  One of the men hovering on Sam’s right offered his arm with a bow. “Miss Hastings, it would be my pleasure to escort you through the maze.”

  Sam hesitantly accepted his arm with a tiny curtsy. “Thank you for your generous assistance, Sir.”

  “Mr. James Bloomhaven.” He gestured to himself.

  “Mr. Bloomhaven, may I offer my congratulations for your sister’s upcoming wedding?” Sam said as they passed under the archway leading back into the maze. Behind them, Robert’s two spare friends straggled, their quiet conversation a concoction of rumbles and grunts.

  Mr. Shirely, overhearing Sam’s comment, snorted. “If it were up to me, Mr. Henry Martin would not live to see his wedding day.”

  “Would you leave Miss Bloomhaven and her child without a husband and a father?” asked Miss Randall incredulously.

  “I made the exact same point,” muttered Mr. Bloomhaven.

  “We did take an opportunity to share our disapproval of his actions though.” Growling, Mr. Shirely punched his hand, grinding his fist into his palm.

  “Robert!” Miss Randall said, her jaw dropping. “You promised me you would refrain from any violence.”

  “I promised I would prevent James from exacting his vengeance,” replied Mr. Shirely with a grin. “James had no part of the beating, nor was he aware of our actions until after they occurred.”

  “Nor were you supposed to discuss that matter with anyone.” A sickly-sweet voice announced from their left. Miss Shirely emerged from the shadows, her pale pink gown sparkling in the nearby light of a lantern. The matching pink mask rested on the blond curls framing her delicate face.

  “Good evening, Alice,” Miss Randall stated coldly, adding the barest of nods.

  “Charlotte.” Miss Shirely allowed her gaze to flicker from her brother’s face to acknowledge her cousin. “I was informed you did not plan to attend this evening.”

  “An apparent falsehood,” replied Miss Randall.

  Miss Shirely raised her eyebrows, her critical gaze assessed Sam, then returned to Mr. Shirely. “I am also surprised to discover Miss Hastings in your company. I was unaware the two of you were acquainted.”

  “We were escorting Miss Clemens and Miss Hastings to the maze egress,” Mr. Bloomhaven said. “The ladies were trapped in the center of the labyrinth when we discovered them.”

  “Rescuing damsels in distress? That is very noble of you.” Miss Shirely laughed, her taunting eyes locked on Robert.

  “Shelve your acerbic tongue, Alice. You will never catch a husband with that attitude.” Miss Randall spoke quietly, but her words shimmered through the air and slapped Miss Shirely across her face. Miss Shirely’s venomous glare shifted to Miss Randall again, who smiled sweetly and leaned closer. “I know about the failed engagement, Alice.”

  Miss Shirely seethed, her angry eyes twitching uncontrollably. Mr. Shirely snorted and turned from his irate sister, offering Miss Randall a wide grin. “That is why you are my favorite cousin.”

  “Thank you, Robert.” Miss Randall smiled demurely and curtsied. “You are too kind.”

  “If you continue straight along this path, you will find the exit.” He indicated the walkway to his right with a flick of his hand. “We take our leave of you. Thank you for an enjoyable interlude.” He bowed formally as did Mr. Bloomhaven and their two unnamed friends. Turning about face, they disappeared into the maze again, their boisterous voices lost in the evening’s festivities.

  “Miss Hastings, shall we?” Miss Randall offered her arm, and the two ladies strolled down the path without a backward glance at Miss Shirely who remained rooted, her hands clenched into fists.

  As they neared the outlet, Sam grabbed Miss Randall’s arm, her fingers creased Miss Randall’s black gloves. “Stop! Franklin is still in the maze. I must warn my brother.”

  Miss Randall took a deep breath as she stared at Sam. Her gaze traveled to the garden and the guests beyond the rose archway, then back to Sam. “I suppose we should follow the other pathway. We are bound to find your brother and the rest of his party.”

  “Thank you, Miss Randall.” A grateful sigh escaped Sam’s lips.

  “Should we bring some sort of weapon?” asked Miss Randall. “Just in case…” She glanced at their surroundings.

  Sam yanked Franklin’s penny knife from her bodice. Shock answered Sam’s sheepish grin, Miss Randall paling significantly. “Interestingly,”—Sam unfolded the knife—“not one member of my family would find that action surprising.”

  Miss Randall offered a weak smile in return.

  “You are under no obligation to accompany me.”

  “I cannot allow you to venture back into the labyrinth alone,” replied Miss Randall, holding out her hand. Accepting the knife, she slashed it through the air with a grin, the blade flashing menacingly. “I do hope we meet Alice again.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Thomas, I, too, am beginning to doubt your abilities.” Edward’s exasperation reverberated off the leaves of yet another dead end. “This is the second time we have needed to backtrack. At this rate Samantha will have had time for tea.”

  Thomas shrugged and flung Edward an easy smile. “We could employ Benjamin’s method and simply climb over the top of the hedge.”

  Benjamin rolled his eyes, knocking into Thomas’ chest as he passed him. “Yours is not the company I wish to keep this evening.”

  Edward whipped his head around and glared at Benjamin. Taking one step closer, Edward tilted his head and glared into Benjamin’s eyes. Wordlessly, Edward punched Benjamin’s shoulder and walked toward his wife who waited with Miss Clemens at the head of the trail.

  Miss Hastings’ words echoed in Benjamin’s head. ‘Must you antagonize him?’ Yes, he must. Benjamin grinned to himself, massaging his shoulder, and fell into step with Thomas. As they neared the original pathway, Edward’s angry voice reached their ears.

  “I have already given you my answer, Mr. Lockhearst.”

  “I do not agree with your response,” replied his deep voice. Benjamin sighed heavily, his eyes rising to the stars overhead. He shook his head. Another delay.

  “Mr. Lockhearst, your opinion does not change my decision. Samantha has chosen to marry Lord Westwood.”

  “And I am given to believe she is satisfied with that choice.” Benjamin joined Edward with a growl, flanking Edward’s right side.

  “Lord Westwood.” Mr. Lockhearst greeted him with a cold nod. “I have a grievance to settle with you.”

  “That seems to be a common theme this evening,” muttered Thomas, earning a nervous giggle from Miss Clemens. Gliding backward, Thomas edged closer to the ladies, positioning himself directly between Mr. Lockhearst and Miss Clemens.

  Mr. Lockhearst reached into his coat pocket and extracted a pistol. With a sneer, he pointed it directly at Benjamin’s chest. “I demand satisfaction.”

  “Even if you dispatch Lord Westwood, I will maintain my rejection of your proposal,” replied Edward, subtly twitching aside his coat to reveal t
he gun hidden against his hip.

  Scowling, Mr. Lockhearst tightened his grip on the weapon. “Then I suppose I must offer your sister my regrets for the unexpected loss of her fiancé.”

  “Mr. Lockhearst!” Miss Clemens spoke, her typically meek voice colored with shock. Every head whipped in her direction, Thomas’ mouth dangling open in surprise. Lifting her skirt, she stepped around him and approached Mr. Lockhearst. She curtsied to him.

  “Would you truly commit a cold-blooded execution in the presence of ladies, Mr. Lockhearst?” She tilted her head and gazed at him with wide chocolate eyes. “I considered you to be a refined gentleman. Was I mistaken in my assessment of your character?”

  Mr. Lockhearst paused, frozen in shock. He studied Miss Clemens as if noticing her existence for the first time. “I do not think I have ever heard you speak, Miss Clemens.”

  Flushing, Miss Clemens glanced down, her gloved fingers twisting together. “I rarely have anything of import to say.”

  “I doubt that.” Thomas’ compliment caused Miss Clemens to blush again. She glanced up at Thomas, peeking at him over her shoulder. He grinned.

  “Miss Clemens, do you not think me capable of murder?” Mr. Lockhearst asked, his eyebrow arched so high, it disappeared into his hair.

  Returning her attention to him, she appraised him for some moments, then slowly shook her head. “I do not, Mr. Lockhearst,” she replied, pointedly glaring at the pistol still trained on Benjamin.

  “Interesting,” Mr. Lockhearst murmured to himself. He lowered the gun, tucking it back into his coat and puffed his chest—inflated by Miss Clemens’ estimation of his character. He flashed a winning smile at her, similar to the kind he favored on Miss Shirely during the croquet game. “Miss Clemens,” he said, softening his gruff tone. “I recently heard gossip inferring you were engaged to Mr. Shirely. Is there any merit in that rumor?”

  “There is none, Mr. Lockhearst,” Miss Clemens replied firmly, continuing to hold his gaze.

  “Indeed.” He responded with a wider smile. “And do you possess a sizable dowry?” he asked through his toothy grin.

  “I do not,” replied Miss Clemens, casting her eyes toward her shoes.

  “Such a pity.” Mr. Lockhearst clucked. He turned his attention back to Benjamin, his voice thick with arrogance. “We will find a way to settle this matter that does not involve your death as Miss Clemens seems to think me incapable of such atrocities.” He glowed, his eyes flicking over her. “I loathe changing her good opinion.”

  Nodding to Mrs. Hastings and Miss Clemens, Mr. Lockhearst disappeared down the pathway without another word. Benjamin glanced at Edward with a grimace and sighed. Edward clapped Benjamin on his shoulder in concurrence.

  “I suppose you are better fiancé than he would be,” said Edward, “even with your less than desirable history.”

  “Aunt Abigail is providing you with a generous dowry; she specifically discussed the sum with Benjamin and me. Are you aware of the amount?” Thomas addressed Miss Clemens with a questioning look.

  “I am,” replied Miss Clemens with a deft nod. “However, I find Mr. Lockhearst’s beastly personality abhorrent and not at all suited to my temperament. Nor do I wish to be attached to any man who is solely interested in my dowry.”

  Thomas hooted with laughter. “Miss Hastings is quickly becoming a terrible influence on you, Miss Clemens. I do hope it continues.” Miss Clemens blushed again, subtly shifting closer to Thomas.

  Benjamin wondered how her growing infatuation continued to elude Thomas. Surely, Thomas’ observant nature would afford him the ability to recognize adoration. Then again, Benjamin only realized Miss Clemens’ affection for Thomas after Miss Hastings drew his attention to the new development during the Leveret ball.

  Samantha. He could hear her laughter, floating through the bushes. Benjamin closed his eyes and imagined her wandering among the hedges. His mind roamed down maze pathways searching for her, checking every hidden alcove. He found her alone, glowing in blue, and his body ached to follow his mind. Honeysuckle floated in the evening air; Benjamin’s hungry eyes snapped open.

  “One of us should return to the start of the maze and follow Miss Hastings’ path, it might get us to the center faster,” he said. Thomas sulked at his brother’s enthusiasm.

  “Miss Clemens, for someone with little social standing and an exceptionally plain countenance, I am impressed you managed to capture the attention of two different gentlemen this evening. It is a pity you could not keep it.” Venom poured from the shadows.

  Thomas’ head flew up at the insult. He took a protective step toward Miss Clemens but found himself restrained by Edward who shook his head subtly.

  “Mr. Shirely is not a gentleman,” replied Mrs. Hastings evenly as she greeted the newcomer with a curt bob. “Good evening, Miss Shirely.”

  “Mrs. Hastings,” purred Miss Shirely through narrow eyes, “it is a pleasure to see you again.”

  “Likewise, Miss Shirely,” replied Mrs. Hastings, her voice tightening. She acknowledged the two ladies hovering near Alice’s shoulder. “Misses Leveret.”

  “Mrs. Hastings,” they chorused and curtsied, their identical plum costumes moving in unison.

  “Miss Clemens, it is polite to bow to your betters.” Miss Shirely sneered, turning away from Mrs. Hastings

  “I shall endeavor to remember your instruction when I meet them,” replied Miss Clemens, holding Miss Shirely's frosty gaze.

  She arched an eyebrow, stunned by Miss Clemens’ retort. “Miss Hastings’ influence has not enhanced your character.”

  “On the contrary, I find Miss Clemens’ attitude greatly improved,” Mrs. Hastings replied, sliding her arm around Miss Clemens’ waist.

  “That is your opinion.” Miss Shirely sniffed and smoothed her shimmering dress. “Husbands prefer their wives to act demure.”

  “I am surprised to learn you know what qualities a good wife should possess, Miss Shirely. How many seasons have passed without a wedding?” asked Mrs. Hastings, offering Miss Clemens a subtle wink.

  Bristling, Miss Shirely shot Mrs. Hastings a withering glare. “I appreciate your concern regarding my future; however, I am entertaining numerous prospects.”

  “That is excellent news, Miss Shirely,” Mrs. Hastings replied, tilting her head. “I look forward to receiving your announcement.”

  Benjamin turned away, covering his snicker with a cough. Perhaps Miss Hastings inherited her sharp tongue from her sister-in-law.

  Miss Shirely growled, returning her spiteful attention to Miss Clemens. “You will regret your rejection of my brother’s offer.”

  “I sincerely doubt that, Miss Shirely.” Miss Clemens raised her chin.

  “Miss Clemens, it is unfortunate your new acquaintances have neglected to inform you of the ramifications of crossing me and my family,” Miss Shirely said haughtily. “I shall ensure no man makes any attempt to gain your favor for the rest of your seasons.”

  “There are worse things than spinsterhood,” Miss Clemens replied.

  “I can think of nothing more delightful,” said Thomas, stepping forward, pushing through Edward’s restraining arm.

  Miss Shirely's gaze jumped to Thomas and slid over to Edward and Benjamin, a deep blush spreading over her face. Had she forgotten they were standing there? She greeted them with a dazzling smile and a deep curtsy. “Gentlemen, how delightful to see you at this festive occasion,” she simpered, clasping her hands in front of her. “I do hope you are enjoying the festivities.”

  “Miss Shirely,” each man replied, offering a cold, short bow.

  “I had the pleasure of conversing with your fiancée earlier this evening,” said Miss Shirely, peeking at Benjamin through her eyelashes.

  “Did you?” asked Benjamin in a low tone, increasingly grateful for not extending a proposal to Miss Shirely. Aunt Abigail’s estimation of her character was correct.

  “I did. She and Miss Randall were hopelessly lost, stuck in the center
of the maze.” Miss Shirely painted a concerned look across her face; the effort appeared excruciating as she struggled to maintain her compassionate attitude.

  “Damn,” Thomas muttered under his breath. “How long ago did you leave Miss Hastings’ company?”

  “Not ten minutes ago, Mr. Reid.” Miss Shirely regarded Thomas peculiarly. “My brother,” she emphasized the word as if refuting Mrs. Hastings’ low opinion of Mr. Shirely, “rescued both Miss Hastings and Miss Randall and escorted them safely to the opening of the labyrinth.”

  “I must thank him for his assistance,” replied Edward with a frown.

  “Considering Mr. Shirely’s current state, I am surprised he possessed the capacity to aid anyone.” Thomas’ comment earned a scowl from Miss Shirely.

  “Miss Randall can be very persuasive.” She shot Thomas a meaningful glance; however, Thomas looked away, refusing to acknowledge her implied insult.

  With a sniff, Miss Shirely turned to her silent companions. “Ladies, I find this conversation tedious. Let us seek out some remarkable company.”

  Miss Shirely and the Leveret sisters turned and headed deeper into the maze, the ugly purple hue of the Leverets’ dresses disappearing into the shadows. Miss Shirely's nasal tone carried for the next few minutes, proclaiming malicious abuses regarding Miss Clemens’ character.

  “I suppose I should be honored Miss Shirely spends so much of her time thinking about me,” said Miss Clemens.

  Thomas snorted.

  “Perhaps we should return to the maze entrance,” said Edward, echoing Benjamin’s earlier thought. “Sammie may be waiting for us.”

  “Or she may tire of waiting for you and decide to search the maze.” Miss Hastings rounded the corner opposite where Miss Shirely vanished. Miss Randall's ghostly form followed silently, grasping an unfolded knife tightly in her hand, her white knuckles glowing against the darkness of the labyrinth.