Please, Blake, be the kind of man I can trust!
***
Mary felt like a criminal under the watchful eye of a constable. No matter where she moved in the ballroom, she felt Blake’s eyes follow her. The candlelight and soft music in the dance hall normally created the perfect ambiance, but tonight everything felt off. It was entirely Blake’s fault. He’d not danced all night.
This was most unusual for someone who loved to show off his abilities; the man never missed a chance to make an exhibition of himself. He’d not smiled either, and Blake rarely let his true mood show. Not that she was watching him. Well, occasionally she stole a glance over her fan at discreet moments.
“You didn’t answer my question, milady.”
Mary blinked and registered the man in front of her. She couldn’t remember his name. “Forgive me. I am terribly thirsty. I regret that I cannot concentrate on conversation until I have a sip of something.”
The man grinned. “Please, let me serve you. I will be but a moment.” He hurried off toward the refreshments.
Where was Anton? She searched the room and finally spied him talking to a few matrons. As both an earl and a bachelor, he never lacked attention. However, Anton was the picture of perfect manners and was usually stuck in tiresome conversation and forced to suffer through every outing in company.
She moved across the long, rectangular room and wormed her way through the matrons. “Brother, dear. Might I have a private word?”
Anton’s shoulders seemed to droop with relief. He took Mary’s arm and they talked themselves through several excuses as they pulled away from the biddies.
“You couldn’t have managed that favor before the last set? I could barely breathe with the way they were throwing their daughters at me.”
Mary couldn’t even bring herself to laugh at him. “Sorry, I was dancing. Have you spoken with Blake?”
“Mr. Gunther?” Anton corrected.
“Oh, stop. Mama isn’t here, so there’s no need to be ridiculous.” Mary put her hands on her hips. “Well, have you?”
Anton shook his head and then started to look for him.
“Don’t look now! He’ll know we are talking about him.”
“I only spoke briefly with him, but it wasn’t about you, and it wasn’t good.”
Mary scrunched her brow. “What do you mean by it wasn’t good? I’ve never seen him so miserable.”
“That’s because he plans to join a convent and become a nun.”
Mary snorted. “Be serious. What did he say?”
“It might as well be the truth.” Anton sighed. “He’s leaving town to visit his aunt. He says he will depart soon and has no idea when he should return.”
Mary stood stock still for a moment, processing the shock. Then she huffed. “So why did he come then? To torment me?”
“I don’t know, but I aim to find out. Blake Gunther is my closest friend. First Terrance, and now Gunther leaves. I wish you would have broken a different man. Gunther keeps me from taking life too seriously. And after talking to those biddies, I am sure I shall go mad without his company.”
Mary folded her arms across her chest. “Remember, it was he who broke my heart, not the other way around. Does the cad plan to at least come say goodbye?”
Anton shrugged, and then his eyes widened. “You could ask him. He’s right behind you.”
Mary whirled around. Her tongue felt stuck in her mouth. Blake’s usually perfectly fluffed chestnut hair seemed flat, and his cravat was rumpled. He stared at her with the same gloomy large brown eyes as Anton’s dog. It hurt to see him depressed, but at the same time, she could feel her anger building. Why should he be sad? Mary was the one who was hurt! This could never work. Blake was running away, but didn’t he want to fight for her?
Anton cleared his throat. “The silence is killing me. Can you two just kiss and make up already?”
Mary’s cheeks burned, and Blake’s eyes widened.
Blake coughed into his hand. “I’m afraid that would be the last thing Lady Mary would ever desire.” Mary couldn’t meet Blake’s gaze. “I, uh, just wanted to say goodbye. I plan to ride out in the morning.”
Mary still could not make her eyes look up. She was afraid if she did, she’d bawl like a baby. She reached back and subtly grabbed a hold of Anton’s arm for support.
“Gunther, you don’t have to leave. I understand this is a mess, but can’t we talk about this tomorrow? I’ll come see you after breakfast.”
“I think it’s better this way,” Gunther said. “Excuse me.”
Mary saw his feet shuffle away. When she finally lifted her eyes, it was to see Lord Templeton approaching them.
His gaze followed Blake’s retreating form too. “I know you’re family friends, but I’ve heard enough rumors about that man to make me sick. If I were you, Lady Mary, I would steer clear of Mr. Gunther.”
Mary’s hands fisted. “I didn’t know you listened to gossip, Lord Templeton.”
“Then you don’t believe him capable of ruining the lives of innocent women?”
“He is a harmless flirt and no more,” Mary said, shocked how quickly a few rumors had turned into outright slander.
“I apologize. I stand corrected.”
Mary glowered at him. “I will accept your apology on behalf of my future husband.”
Lord Templeton’s surprise would have made her laugh, but she was in too much of a dither. She needed to hurry if she was going to catch Blake.
She turned and nearly ran into the gentleman, who’s name she had forgotten, holding her drink.
He grinned like he’d just found a prize. “There you are. I thought I’d lost you.”
Mary couldn’t think of anything to say, still flustered by the news of Blake leaving town. “I … I … Excuse me.” She picked up her skirts and hurried from the room, hoping to catch Blake. The corridor was empty, so she gathered her cloak and hurried outside. Why did she feel cold when it was a warm summer evening? Where was Blake?
“Mr. Gunther!” she yelled, rushing down the line of carriages. Blake would have arrived on a horse and not with his parents, so she moved toward the stables. “Blake!” she yelled again, not caring that several footmen and coachman stared at her strangely.
She finally stopped to catch her breath. With Blake gone, there was no reason to return to the party. She found her own family carriage and told the coachman to take her home. He would have to return for Anton, but she was too devastated to care about the inconvenience she was causing.
The ride echoed her loneliness. No one was there to tease her into a smile or commiserate with her. She had dug her own grave by ruining her chances with Lord Templeton. Surprisingly, she didn’t even feel guilty about it. Being buried alive would be preferable to life without Blake.
Mary let the footman help her down, but she kept her chin tucked down to hide her tear-streaked face. She ran inside and up the castle’s main staircase. Instead of heading to her room, she stopped at her alcove and slipped inside. Her seashell collection caught her eyes first, glowing in the moonlight. Each shell held a memory of Blake. Her sketchbook lay on her chair, and she scooped it up. She wanted to sketch Blake’s portrait before she went to bed. There was something comforting about drawing the familiar lines of a loved one. It made them come alive. Not as wonderful as the real thing, but it would be as close as she could get.
She hugged the sketchbook and curled up in her chair. The darkness preyed on her melancholy, and tears coursed down her face. If only she had been more trusting when she had had the chance. If only she had taken a leap of faith.
Footsteps sounded on the stairs, and she held her breath. She chastised herself for not waiting to cry until she was in the privacy of her bedroom. A hiccup escaped, and she slammed her hand over her mouth.
“Is someone there?”
Mary dropped her hand and leaned forward. That voice sounded remarkably like Blake’s. Was he here? Mary sucked in her breath and another hiccup e
scaped—this one far louder than the first.
“Mary?”
Before she could answer, a scrape of metal on the floor pierced the otherwise quiet corridor. The armor moved aside, and Blake filled the space, his face glowing in the moonlight. “Still playing back here after all these years?”
He looked unreasonably happy for someone who should have a broken heart. Embarrassed and frustrated, she sniffed loudly and used her sleeve to wipe her face.
“Mary? What the devil is wrong?”
His shoulders were too broad to squeeze by so he had to shift the armor farther to the side.
“Don’t you dare come in here, Blake Gunther!”
Blake didn’t listen to her. His large form crowded into her alcove. A small light from the corridor filtered into their space, allowing Mary to better see Blake’s confident smile.
“So when is the wedding?”
Mary scowled. “What wedding?”
“You told Lord Templeton I was to be your future husband.”
The blood drained from her face. “You heard that? Why, that’s impossible!”
“Anton found me and told me, actually.”
“But how? You left. I went looking for you.”
He squatted down by her. “You did?” His voice was soft.
Mary dropped her gaze and stared at the binding of her sketchbook.
Blake reached forward and lifted her chin. He leaned close, and she could hardly breathe. “I hadn’t left yet. My mother stopped to lecture me for not dancing. As soon I removed myself from her clutches, Anton waylaid me. He told me what you said. I had hoped you’d received Terrance’s and my mother’s letters and you would forgive me, but then you seemed intent on avoiding me tonight.”
“You never approached me,” Mary explained. “All week, there was nary a word from you. I thought you’d given up on me.”
“I wasn’t going to leave forever. Just however long it took for you to trust me again. I can’t give up on the idea of us. It’s all I can think about.” His eyes seemed to catch on something. “The cockleshells I gave you as a boy!” He reached over her and picked one up. “You saved these after all these years?”
Mary shrugged, then hiccupped again, and they both laughed. “No matter my complaints, you have always been more than kind to me. Things were simpler when we were children. I fear I’ve complicated everything.”
Blake put his hand on her shoulder and trailed it down the side of her arm. “I know a quick way to uncomplicate things.”
“How?” Mary asked, her voice betraying the yearning she felt.
Blake removed the sketchbook from her hands and set it on the floor. Then he helped her to stand. She looked up into his eyes as his hands softly encircled her waist.
“Lady Mary, may I have the honor of a kiss?”
There was hesitancy in his voice. She sensed that if she said no, he would respect her wish and wait however long it took until she was ready. But she was ready now. She leaned into him, closing the small space between them. His hands tightened around her like a gentle hug.
This was it. The moment she’d dreamed about all her life. She stepped on her tiptoes bringing her mouth level with his. A smile touched his lips just before she did. Her arms found his neck, and she returned his embrace. For the next few moments, the man of her dreams was all hers and she was all his.
Their tender kiss deepened, opening the gates of trust. His hands cradled her against him, and the only desire she had was to make him happy. One of them laughed, or maybe it was both of them. They pulled back and grinned at each other.
“You are definitely not a little girl anymore,” Gunther whispered. She fisted her hand to whack his arm, but he stopped her. “I’m teasing. I never should have taught you how to box.”
Mary wrapped her arms around his middle. “It is a skill I will need if we are to be married.”
“A skill you will put to good use when you tire of me as my parents have.”
Mary shook her head. “I might be younger than you, Blake Gunther, but I know something you don’t. I will never be tired of being in love with you. I might grow annoyed or get angry, but my love for you is so deeply rooted, it cannot be removed.”
Blake did something then that she had never seen him do before. His eyes welled up with tears and a drop escaped. “I never believed anyone could love me this way.”
Mary wiped away his tear her thumb. “Well, I do.”
Blake captured her hand and kissed it, then traded her hand for her mouth. This time, his lips were fierce against hers and filled with a pledge of enduring love.
A noise sounded behind them, and Anton pulled Gunther back.
“Looks like you followed my advice and fixed things with a kiss,” Anton said with wink. “Now it’s time for our Romeo to go home.”
“Listen,” Blake said. “Since we are soon to be officially family, might you do your future brother a favor and go away?”
Anton slapped him on the back. “You’ve got two minutes, and then I think you and I should have a word in my office.”
Blake saluted him and then turned back and reached for Mary’s hand. She clasped his and relished the warmth there. “Where were we? Oh, yes. Lady Mary, you have made me the happiest of men. I promise to love you forever.”
Mary grinned. “And I promise to never be contrary about one thing … my love for you.”
Chapter 17
Mary stood next to Blake in front of both of their families. The Gunthers sat on one side of Banbury Castle’s drawing room, and Lady Crawford and Anton sat on the other. The surprise family conference had been met with a variety of reactions. Mrs. Gunther’s expression was wary, and Mr. Gunther, who sat a foot away from her, was calm. The distance between them seemed measured by their differing expectations for this meeting, and that alone bred further tension. Mary watched her mother steal a concerned glance toward Mrs. Gunther and then to Anton. At least Anton was mostly relaxed.
It was time to tell them.
Blake cleared his throat, and Mary held her breath as he said, “Lady Crawford, Father, Mother … Lady Mary and I are going to be married.”
Mrs. Gunther clutched her throat, rattling her single strand of pearls. Her gaze pinned Mary to her spot. “Are you sure? Are you really sure?”
Mary swallowed. “Yes, Mrs. Gunther.”
She looked to her own mother, who had arrived home from her trip only moments before.
She was not as surprised, just concerned.
“Has something happened while I was away?”
“Just some kissing,” Anton said with a smug smile.
Mrs. Gunther gasped. “Forgive my son, Lady Crawford. I am thoroughly ashamed of his behavior.”
“Nothing shocking happened,” Mary said, stepping toward her mother.
Blake stepped forward too and took Mary’s hand. He gave her an encouraging glance. “I fell in love with your daughter, Lady Crawford. We beg your blessing on our union.”
After a moment of blustered sputtering from Lady Crawford, Anton interrupted. “You are both butchering this. Mama, we have long been aware of Mary’s feelings. I have spoken with them both and believe Gunther to be in earnest. I will vouch for his feelings.”
Mother shook her head. “You cannot vouch for someone’s love.” She turned to Blake. “Dear, I have cared for you like my own son. But I cannot agree to this without a promise that you will love and cherish my daughter for the rest of your life.”
Blake leaned close to Mary. “Everyone keeps questioning the fervor of my love for you. Please, do not be offended, my sweet.”
Mary glared at him. “Focus.”
Mrs. Gunther sighed. “Are you sure, Lady Mary? Completely sure?”
Blake straightened. “Listen, you may sever all my limbs if Mary, here, even begins to question my fidelity. I will never kiss another woman as long as live. Except you, Mother.” He blew out his breath, and Mary could tell he was extremely flustered. He tried again. “I’ve been searching
for happiness in all the wrong places, but through Mary, I’ve seen a glimpse of what true joy can be. My perspective has changed, as has my heart.”
Mary squeezed his hand, reveling in the comfort it brought her. “I couldn’t love Blake so much as I do if I did not trust him. I have faith in him and in us.” She turned to face him. “I am very sure. He is the only man for me.”
Blake’s smile was a mixture of relief and pure, unfettered joy. He leaned in to kiss her when Anton coughed. Blake sprung back.
Lady Crawford put her hands together. “This is what I have long hoped for. Finally!”
“What?” Anton leaned forward in his seat. “You do realize that we can never get rid of him again? He will be family. Family is permanent.”
“Wait.” Blake shook his head. “Are you trying to talk her into this, or out of this?”
“I’m just making sure she is sure,” Anton said. “And I am also a little annoyed that she acted as if she wasn’t going to approve and then suddenly said she does.”
“Mothers have hearts too, dear,” Mother said. “We are just fiercely protective of our children.”
Mary could breathe fully again. “Thank you, Mama.”
Both her and Blake turned to Mr. and Mrs. Gunther.
“We ought not to rush into anything,” Mrs. Gunther began.
Mr. Gunther put his hand on his wife’s, which caused him to nearly fall across the sofa to reach her. “Don’t speak, just nod.”
Mrs. Gunther’s eyes bulged. Her husband never interrupted her. “I … you … ” she stopped and appealed to Lady Crawford. “If you think this is a good idea, then surely I should rely on your superior judgment.”
Lady Crawford gave Mrs. Gunther an encouraging smile.
“Aha!” Blake said, pointing at his mother. “Now you must concur.”
“We do, son,” his father said. “Don’t we, Mrs. Gunther?”
She sighed. “I suppose.”
Blake pressed his eyes closed, and a smile surfaced on his mouth. He turned and circled his arms around Mary. “You’re mine now. And I have a mind to celebrate. There is no escaping this, darling.” He dipped her across his leg and nearly smothered her with kisses.
Lady Mary Contrary: Regency Ever After book 2 Page 8