by Dayna Quince
“Don’t pretend with me,” she warned.
“Have I been so obvious?”
“I suspect it becomes boring after a while. Playing the same role, wearing the same mask.”
He didn’t comment.
“What will you do when everyone see’s who you really are?”
He tensed. “What is it you think you know about me?”
“You’re a rake,”
He chuckled. “That was never hidden.”
“But my sister—”
“Is older than you.” He cut her off.
“By a scant year.”
“Why don’t you let her decide what she wants?”
She pursed her lips. “She is of a gentle nature. It is up to me to protect her.”
There was nothing gentle about her nature in the tower. She’d been explicit in what she wanted, without words. She’d communicated quite clearly with her kiss.
She’d quite literally stolen his wits.
“Gentle doesn’t mean she isn’t strong or intelligent enough to know what she wants.”
Her eyes narrowed even more. “You think you know her better than I do?”
“I think I see her differently than you do.”
The tension was palpable. He focused on his other dining partner to diffuse it before Josette decided to skewer him with her knife.
Lunette was on his other side, and he had interacted with this sister the least.
“Are you enjoying the party, Miss Lunette?”
She glanced past him, smiling. “Whatever it is you’ve done, I suggest you sleep with a guard at your door.”
He smiled wryly. “Is she always this way?”
“Always.”
“How do I get her off my scent?”
“You can’t. She’s a hound.”
He snorted, a huff of anger coming from his other side. “Warning noted.” He peeked back at Josette and she had her back to him. She now conversed with Densmore, the poor chap.
Luc studied Miss Lunette. She had a spritely look about her. She strongly resembled her sisters of course, but she was daintier in her frame, her face paler and features finer, like Jeanie.
“And what role have you taken in the Marsden machine?” he asked.
She raised a brow. “I beg your pardon?”
“You’ve all taken up a purpose, have you not? Miss Jeanette is the seamstress, Georgette the farmer, Bernadette and Annette lead the charge for all of you.”
He couldn’t tell if he had offended her or not.
“I’m the chef,” she said.
“You like to cook?”
She shrugged. “Liking has nothing to do with it.”
“I’m sorry.” He’d upset yet another of Jeanie’s sisters. And he here used to be a proliferate charmer.
“Don’t be. I like discovering new flavors, I find. I’m more an herbalist than a chef. I could never do this”—she indicated the delicious fare before them—“but I manage to make our meals tolerable.”
Perhaps he should learn from these sisters. They managed to do what he was helpless at doing. He paid others to do what they’d taken upon themselves to learn, and yet he was running out of coin. His own skills were all but useless.
“Still commendable.”
She raised a brow. “How so?”
“You know how to cook. If I didn’t have a person to do it for me, I might starve. I’m as helpless as a babe.”
She laughed. At least she wasn’t angry with him like Miss Josette. He spared a glance at her again and then past her to where Jeanie sat, talking with Violet.
His heart contracted. She’d altered her hair, but she still wore the yellow dress. He’d dream of that dress tonight, he was sure. He didn’t know why it had affected him so, but it had. The color suited her to perfection, soft and delicate, like sunshine, like her. But there was steel beneath her gentle exterior, a strength. And in her eyes he’d seen her resolve.
She wanted him. He couldn’t find it in himself to deny her.
She saw him, the real him. She didn’t know everything. Only Weirick knew about his true parentage, but that didn’t alter who he was when he was with her.
The raw, vulnerable feelings that stirred between them was something so powerful he didn’t know how to tame it. It was an invisible and yet tangible force.
This must be love.
He took a sip of his wine, turning his attention to his food abruptly to avoid looking at Miss Lunette. Would she see the panic in his eyes, see the rapid throb of his pulse at his throat? Josette was right. His veneer had grown thin. He was shedding his walls faster than he could build them.
He’d thought love was a luxury, but it wasn’t at all. Luxury implied it was something one could avoid, as simple as not going to the shop to purchase it.
But he was wrong.
Love was like an illness. It seeped inside you, growing, changing one in small increments until it couldn’t be denied. He was sick with it, feverish, his palms sweaty, his head dizzy.
He loved her.
But that wouldn’t stop him from hurting her when he had to leave this castle and marry another.
Chapter 17
Jeanie had gone to the tower last night after retiring, but he wasn’t there. Perplexed, she’d had trouble sleeping. This afternoon was the Kirkland garden party when the two house parties would merge for one day. Before Jeanie could go down to breakfast, Josie invaded her room in an obvious snit of some sort.
Jeanie sighed. “What is it now?”
“I don’t like him.”
“You don’t like any gentlemen, except for Lord Selhorst.”
She gasped in outrage. “I loathe him especially.”
“Which means you probably love him,” Jeanie returned.
Josie’s mouth dropped open and she blushed.
Jeanie laughed. “I’m only kidding.”
“That isn’t funny. I didn’t come here to talk about me.”
“Of course you didn’t,” Jeanie murmured. “I saw you interrogating the man last night at dinner.
“Lord Luckfeld is out to seduce you.”
Jeanie hid a smile as she bent to put on her slippers.
I hope so.
“Is that so?” she asked instead. “Then he’ll have to marry me.”
“Rakes don’t marry unless they want to. I don’t believe he intends to.”
Jeanie’s heart twisted. “Perhaps he isn’t able to.”
Josie shook her head in disbelief. “Isn’t able to? He has to marry. Most likely he has some empty-headed heiress in mind, and he is trifling with you. But that isn’t what frightens me the most.”
Jeanie yawned, but inside she was trembling. An heiress? Waiting back in London for him to return?
“What frightens you?” She had to ask because Josie only got more agitated if she thought she was being ignored.
“You do.”
Jeanie drew back. “Me?”
“It’s the way you looked at him. Like he’d offered you the moon and stars. Like you wanted him to kiss you, Jeanie.”
Jeanie scoffed. She wanted so much more than that.
She wanted forever.
“I don’t know what you mean,” she lied.
“For the first time we’re all receiving attention from men. It can make us think… I don’t know precisely, but it’s an illusion. We have to guard our hearts.”
Jeanie ground her teeth. She’d already lost her heart. What Josie wanted was impossible. For whatever reason, Josie refused to understand that they must all marry. She had grand, revolutionary ideas for her own life but what about her? Jeanie had only wanted one thing. She’d thought that was a London season, but those dreams were only a means to an end. The start of a journey toward an ultimate destination which was Luc. A man who made her heart take flight.
He wasn’t perfect, but he was real, and he wanted her.
“What if I don’t want to guard my heart?” Jeanie asked, meeting Josie’s gaze. “What if I want him
to kiss me? Does what I want matter?”
Josie wrung her hands. “You’ve never spoken like this before.”
“I’m saying it now.”
“He’s using you.”
“I think I know him better than you. You spend all your time in the library. Have you given any of these gentlemen a chance? Have you tried to know them? Or do you cling to your preconceived notions?”
Josie stiffened. “What more is there to know? They are rakes. They were fooled into coming here, and we’re fools if we think that in a mere fortnight we can change our fates. This isn’t a fairytale. I should know. I’ve read them all.”
“Books are not real life. Why don’t you try experiencing something that cannot be read about? Have you been kissed, Josie? Why don’t you try it, and then you can add practical knowledge to all those books you cherish. Speak to me again when you know what desire is.”
Josie gasped. “Desire? Are you mad?”
“It’s worse. I think I’m in love. And no, it didn’t happen in a week, it’s been happening slowly since our first dance. He feels it too, so don’t try to convince me I’m wrong. I know what I want now.”
“Jeanie…don’t be a fool. To men like them we’re nothing more than mistress material.”
Jeanie stared her sister. “What did you just say?” She’d heard that phrase before but she couldn’t grasp where.
“If all you say is true then I suppose I’ll owe you an apology and congratulations after your engagement won’t I? But if I’m right, you’ll be nursing a broken heart.”
“Either way it is my choice,” Jeanie said, and her voice shook. She cleared her throat.
Josie left and Jeanie couldn’t think beyond those two words.
Mistress Material. Where had she heard it?
She couldn’t remember, but she felt like it was there in the back of her mind. She shrugged it off. It would come to her if it was important, but for now, she had to hurry downstairs.
Arriving at the party, Jeanie focused her attention on Georgie, who was so nervous she’d wrapped the ribbons of her bonnet around her fingers until her nails turned purple. Josie stayed close, but she was almost as distracted as Georgie. They walked into the party, and Jeanie took a bracing breath. Lady Kirkland didn’t like the Marsdens one bit, despite being neighbors for generations. Lady Kirkland turned her nose up at impoverished people no matter their circumstances. But given the dowager duchess’ favor for them, and the tight friendship between Bernie and the new duchess, Violet, Lady Kirkland knew better than to snub them and had agreed to a joint garden party.
Jeanie had never stepped foot on Kirkland land. Unlike Selbourne Castle that exuded a rugged medieval beauty, typical of Northumberland, Kirkland manor was exactly what Jeanie thought a noble estate would look like, but far more intimidating.
She knotted her hands behind her back while introductions were made, and then they were set loose upon the grounds. Josie and Georgie stayed close while the others dispersed into the various groups. The gentlemen seemed completely at ease among Lady Kirkland’s guests, as if they already knew most of them, which they probably did. Lady Kirkland’s guests were from the upper echelons of society.
She saw Luc, talking with a circle of ladies and gentlemen.
He certainly looked at home here. His royal blue coat set off his eyes like diamonds, making them appear lighter. The more she watched him, the further her heart sank. Her attention moved to the ladies of the group, their dresses far grander than anything she had ever worn. She couldn’t compare to them in any way.
She turned away, banishing the moisture from her eyes and focusing on the lavish grounds.
“Why don’t we explore a bit?” she asked her sisters.
Georgie and Josie agreed. They took a turn about the boxed gardens, Georgie lamenting about how unnaturally square everything was. But Jeanie didn’t mind. She liked how orderly and controlled it was and found it soothing. Everything had a place, a purpose, and together it was all beautiful, it its own way. But she understood what Georgie meant. Having grown up in the country, the land had its own beauty and it was never controlled. Storms swept the landscape, rattling windows, blowing trees hither and yonder, leaving the terrain torn and chaotic. But it always set itself to rights again, wild flowers covering the scars of rivulets made by water in the hillsides, broken tree limbs overgrown by ivy or becoming natural benches to sit and rest while on a walk.
Georgie fell behind, as she usually did, too distracted by a flower or interesting insect to stay close. Jeanie stayed by Josie even though there was still tension between them from the sketching excursion and their argument afterward.
“It’s a lovely day today,” Josie began.
“It is.”
“I wonder how big their library is?” Josie asked.
“You might have a chance to see it,” Jeanie replied.
“Indeed.” Josie stopped to touch the petal of a rose.
“I’m sorry,” she said after a moment.
Jeanie bumped her shoulder good-naturedly. “I appreciate the apology.”
“For all my knowledge, men seem to be my most ignorant topic of late.”
Jeanie raised a brow. “You are admitting to not knowing something?”
“I will of course rectify that.”
Jeanie laughed “How?”
Josie shrugged. “I will interview a subject extensively and take notes.”
“Subject? You mean a man? What man would agree to this?”
“It just so happens Lord Selhorst is an intellectual like myself and has agreed to let me study him.”
Jeanie blinked. “Study him?” Oh, he definitely liked her. Only a besotted man would agree to such an absurd request. “Do let me know what your findings reveal.”
“I think I shall write a book.”
“And what would you title such a book?” Jeanie asked, smothering the urge to giggle. She didn’t want to poke fun at her sister, who hated to admit any kind of fault or deficiency in her intellect. Josie was their resident professor, and without her, none of them would be able to read. But she did take herself rather too serious most of the time. Seeing her flustered by Lord Selhorst was amazing, but what would come of it?
Did he have true intentions or was he only amusing himself at her sister’s expense? Perhaps Jeanie ought to speak with him and see just how deep his interest ran.
“I’m not sure what to call it,” Josie said. “It will come to me.”
“Good day, Miss Marsden, Miss Josette. Am I interrupting?”
Jeanie turned, a mixture of joy and nervous jitters bubbling inside her.
“Lord Luckfeld, good day to you,” she said, sounding breathless to her own ears.
He joined them, surveying the garden.
“If you’re going to ask to be alone with her, forget it,” Josie said.
Jeanie blushed. “Josie!” she scolded.
He grinned. “I wasn’t. I’m looking for Mr. Cage. Have you seen him?”
Jeanie scanned the area, Georgie had been right behind them. Where had she gone?
“I haven’t seen him since we arrived,” Josie said. She glanced around. “Where is Georgie?”
Luc grimaced and Jeanie saw it. Their gazes locked, and it seemed they shared a thought.
Georgie and Mr. Cage were together. Somewhere.
He exhaled and then smiled, but Jeanie didn’t believe it.
“Are they back at the party?” Josie asked.
“Why don’t you go look and we’ll keep looking here?” Luc suggested.
Josie glared at him. “You’d like me to, wouldn’t you?”
“That is why I suggested it, yes. We’ll cover more ground if we split up.”
“Why is that important?” Her gaze sharpened. “You think they’re together?”
“Hush,” Jeanie hissed.
“We don’t know that,” Luc said. “But if they are, since I know they have developed a friendship, we should be the ones to find them.”
/> “How long has Georgie been gone? She was right behind us,” Josie said.
“She fell behind,” Jeanie replied, “but I’m not sure how long she was out of sight. We were on the other side of the garden when she broke away from us.”
“Let’s go that way,” Luc suggested.
So they did. He offered his arm to both Josie and her, and Jeanie could feel the tension in his body.
They came right back to where they started with no sign, but Luc appeared even more aggravated.
They came to a gate in a wall made of a strange plant. Josie moved close to touch the thick poles of the stems. “What is this?” she asked with awe.
“It’s bamboo. It forms the perimeter of Lord Kirkland’s Paradise garden,” Luc answered.
“Fascinating,” Josie said.
“It’s not part of the grounds open to the guests. The landscaping is delicate.” His gaze met Jeanie’s. And she could read his thoughts again. He thought they could be in there.
She nodded in agreement. “We should look.”
“But someone must remain here to ensure no one comes upon us.” He turned to Josie. “Are you up for the task?”
She folded her arms. “Why me?”
“Must you argue everything?” Jeanie asked in annoyance.
“Very well. Take a quick look.”
Luc pushed the gate open and waved Jeanie inside. But then he took the lead, moving slowly and quietly.
Jeanie was in awe the moment she stepped through. It was like entering another world.
Plants in colors, shapes, and textures she’d never seen before spread out before her in no particular order. There was a euphoric stillness to the place, the tinkle of water filling the air like a quiet symphony. Luc went ahead of her, and Jeanie took her time stepping from stone to stone on the moss-covered path.
“Luc!” she whispered, giddy with excitement. He came back to her, his face stern.
“What?”
“Have you ever seen such a magnificent place?”
“I can say I have.”
She spread her arms wide. “It’s like a dream.”
He smiled crookedly. “Then I’d say the designer has done his job well. But we don’t have time to linger. They are here.”