by R. G. Winter
She looked din the full-length glass. Despite her dislike of the time it took to get dressed she had to admit she looked wonderful that evening.
Her gown was a shimmering silk cut just slightly low at the bodice to leave her delicate collarbones and shoulders bare. The color of it, a lovely dark-green, accented her skin and hair and eyes.
The door opened. Lady de Winter paused. “Oh my dear!” her hand went to her mouth. “How grown up you are! I remember when you had to wear all white, and soft pastels. But now that you are engaged…you may wear those colors and you do, so beautifully. I have brought something for you as well.”
Madelaine watched as her mother set a long box on the dressing table and opened it. The flash of diamonds and emeralds was bright in the room.
“Oh! Mother! That’s your favorite piece!”
Lady de Winter’s fingers went to the diamonds at her throat. “Yes, it is. But tonight is special, and emeralds bring plenty of luck.”
Madelaine’s heart nearly stopped. She searched her mother’s face. There was something on it, something that hinted at the fact that perhaps her mother was sympathetic to her situation.
Madelaine stood still while her mother fastened the necklace around her throat. The maid had arranged her hair to lay high on the back of her head while just a small spill of curls cascaded downward from that high knot.
It was official.
She was no longer a child.
She was a grownup and soon to be wed.
Her voice quavered. “Mother, I must tell you something.”
“You do not love him. Madelaine, I know this. Your father knows this. But this is the way things are done. We know you are unhappy—and if there were a way…but there isn’t. You see, we cannot break that contract and still hold our heads high. You are not the only one bound by society’s dictates my dearest, and I am sorry but I assure you that…well you will be fond of him soon enough.
“The duke is so kind and good. He is generous to boot. You will want for nothing and you will inherit much if something, God forbid, ever happens to him. You shall never have to worry, and we shall never have to worry about you.”
Madelaine managed a smile. “Thank you for the loan of the necklace. It’s beautiful and I hope it does bring me great luck.”
Her mother’s eyes searched her face. “Love comes later, I promise you. I didn’t love your father—I barely knew him to be honest. I had so many suitors that year I was here for my Season. But it was not up to me to choose who I would wed. It was up to my parents, and I am ever so glad that they did because it has been a good match, and a happy marriage. A good marriage. One I am most pleased with.”
On an impulse she blurted out, “Who would you have wed if it were up to you?”
Her mother’s smile was sad. “I can’t recall. I was foolish then and imagined myself in love with so many.”
She was lying. Pity squeezed Madeleine’s breath from her lungs. Once, a long time ago, her mother had been young and in love and she had wed someone else because that was what she had been told to do, that had been the arrangement she had had to agree to.
Her mother had come through that and whatever regrets she had she would never allow them to stand in the way of what she and her husband felt were the best match for their daughter.
She most certainly sympathized, but she would never bend.
Neither would the duke.
It was all but over and done. The contracts were signed and the chapel arranged for.
Unless those emeralds that she wore actually were very lucky she was going to find herself wed to Reginald and, one day, she would probably be standing in her own daughter’s bedroom having the very same conversation with her.
“Don’t forget your fan.”
Madelaine nodded and picked up the delicate ivory and lace thing. She reached upward, letting her fingers rest on the flashing fiery emeralds.
Bring me luck. Luck I will need when I see him again this evening. Luck to avoid being caught, luck that I get more than just a fraction of a moment with him. With luck I could kiss him again and let his arms go round me, strengthen me.
With luck we might even be able to escape this terrible fate being cast over us.
She followed her mother toward the head of the stairs, hope blooming and dying just as quickly and with every single step.
There didn’t seem to be that much luck in the entire world.
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Slipped Knot
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CHAPTER ONE
Madelaine smiled as she paused at the top of the stairs. Victoria joined them and Madelaine’s smile widened. Tonight Victoria wore a white gown, as befitted her age, but there was a notable lack of girlish frills and the lace inserts in her sleeves were decidedly adult.
Her hair was up, and the small pins that glittered from within the honey depths were diamond. A lump formed in Madelaine’s throat. “You look like a grownup! Well, nearly a grownup. Like any minute you are going to simply burst from the shell and emerge as a young woman ready to…” her words faltered and died at the look on Victoria’s face.
That look said she was ready, and right then.
Lady de Winter cleared her throat. “You do Victoria, you look fetching and adult all at once despite being so young. My but you will be the toast of the town! You’ll have so many suitors that you will have poems written to your beauty and men will vie for your attentions. Oh how lucky you are darling!”
The door to Clare’s room opened. She stepped out. The gowns that suited Madelaine’s coloring had not all been suited for Clare’s but Madelaine had insisted that she take them anyway at the end of the week—saying Clare could always give them to her sisters, a statement that Clare had readily agreed with.
The gown she wore suited her as if it had been made for her. It was a delicate dove-gray with a dark blue and gray striped underskirt and dark blue braid.
Her flaming hair was piled high on her head, revealing the pale skin of her face and neck. There was just a hint of her bosom peeking above the evening gown’s square bodice.
The women all turned to see the men gathered below. Madelaine’s eyes went to Reginald. His eyes were warm and a smile had blossomed on his face, a smile that looked both awestruck and slightly crazed. Winston’s mouth hung open. Even their father looked amazed.
Reginald recovered first. He bowed low and the others followed suit.
They headed down the stairs. Reginald said, “We gentlemen seem to be outnumbered. May I escort you sisters?”
They took his arms. Madelaine wanted to feel something, a tingle or even a little thrill but nothing.
Winston stammered out, “Miss Devon…um…perhaps you’d…” he rushed forward and managed to nearly topple at her feet in his haste.
Lady de Winter actually chuckled then hid her laughter behind a fan. Lord de Winter gave Winston a quelling stare. Winston righted himself, muttered something about his manservant having allowed a slippery bit of polish cling to the bottom of his glowing boots and held his arm out. Clare, looking composed but a trifle flushed, took his arm and they all headed out to the carriages.
Madelaine’s heart thumped and pounded so heavily she was certain the others would hear it but they all seemed preoccupied. Winston stared at Clare like she was a tempting morsel he wanted to gulp down.
Reginald shifted slightly, his shoulder brushing Madelaine’s. “Are you nervous Victoria?”
He already thought of her sister as his sister. He used her given name, something only family or those very familiar did. Madelaine let that thought drift right out of her head as easily as it had drifted in.
“No, perhaps I should be but I am, instead, rather excited.” Victoria paused then rushed on. “I dare say that makes me sound so conceited! I do not mean to be, it is simply that I am so looking forward to playing this evening.”
“You shall do wonderfully,” Reginald gave her hand a small squeeze.
Victoria tapped his
wrist with her fan, “You flatter me sir, but I am grateful for that flattery.”
Madelaine allowed them to talk. Her thoughts were a jumbled mess of half-formed prayers and worry. What if she and Jonathan were caught? What if her father had him removed before he really had a chance to get in the doors, pretend to leave, and hide out on the terrace?
Oh the whole plan was insane! Utterly insane!
Her nerves began to get the better of her as the carriage moved smartly through the streets. Her hands clutched each other and she had to remember to breathe properly, lest she faint dead away.
Or as dead away as she could manage in the bothersome corset!
The carriage finally arrived at the house. They swept out of it and up the broad steps, where the butler flung open the doors and announced them in his timorous tones. They entered the foyer and gave over their wraps, and her hands shook so wildly she was certain she was giving the entire game away as they were led into the large parlor where they would all be entertained for a short time before dinner was announced.
Jonathan!
Her pulse raced and her lower body went weak as he detached himself from a wall. His eyes went straight to her. Her hand, resting lightly on Reginald’s arm, contracted and she felt Reginald flinch slightly.
Victoria was being greeted by their hostess, a rather rotund woman whose intellect was known to be fearsome, and whose taste in music even more so.
Madelaine could hardly recall to speak and only did when Reginald gave her a slight nudge. She greeted their hostess and host with a polite few rods and an inclined head and curtsey then stared at Jonathan again.
Stop it! You must not stare so! The words rocketed through her brain but she could not tear her eyes away despite the disapproval radiating outward from her parents.
Jonathan eyed her father warily as he approached, Madelaine managed to make small talk but the words were automatic. Jonathan came to their hostess, whispered a few words in her ear and vanished toward the foyer.
Would he be able to make the terrace? Would she? Her heart beat frightfully fast and sweat broke out near her hairline as she considered that he might not, or that she might not.
Oh but they had to!
No matter the risk she had to see him again, had to feel his strong arms around her and his lips on hers!
The chairs were arranged tightly and even so there were not enough. The hostess had had an unexpected arrival of several guests, and so many of the gentlemen were giving up their chairs. The hostess had looked relieved when Jonathan excused himself and was currently conversing with a maid in a low undertone.
Madelaine suppressed a grin. Extras at dinner were always sticky but one could hardly turn away the high ranking nobility of they just happened to show up uninvited, which they often did. The recitals were known for being crushed and crashed by those who were desperate to see a young woman or man they had an infatuation with, knowing that that might be there only chance to see them before the large balls later that week, and secure themselves a place on dance cards already filling.
The recital began. The room was crowded and she had managed to put a row of chairs between her and her parents, and get herself seated so near the terrace door it was but a half-step from her. Someone had propped them open, and the men who stood along the walls were so thick that it was clear she would not be missed.
But she might be seen. She flicked her fan and few times and was not the only one. The party was supposed to be for two dozen but at least a dozen more had shown up.
The heat in the room mounted. She slid out of her chair. Nobody noticed. Under the cover of enjoying the music and hidden behind fans and polite gestures flirtations were playing out all over the room.
The doors were thrown widely and she went out them quickly, turning to the right out of instinct. There was a large clump of shadows there, right below a flowering tree and Jonathan materialized from out of the shadows then took her by the hand to pull her within them.
The dark under the tree was complete. His arms went around her and she clung to him. The tears she had held in check came back, flooding her eyes.
“Don’t cry, they’ll wonder why.”
His words shook off that sadness that had swamped her. “I won’t. I am just so happy to feel you next to me!”
His arms tightened. “I missed you so. I told myself I would stay away, do the respectable thing. I fear I am not at all respectable.”
His chest rumbled below hers with every word. She ran her fingers along the buttons of his waistcoat. “Nor I. I wish…oh I wish I could get out of this! I…Reginald does not want me anymore than I want him! He’s simply bound by the contract that says he shall marry Miss de Winter.”
Jonathan went stiff. His voice was low. “The contract, have you seen it?”
“Nay, I only know what my parents have told me, which isn’t much. Victoria seems to know more than my mother does about it. I suppose…I don’t know why or how she does but I suspect she has been snooping so that she will know what will happen when she is wed.”
He was silent. Her fingers clutched his shoulders. His head lowered. Their mouths met. His lips were warm and firm, and his breath entered his mouth with his tongue. She tasted the mint he had used to clean his mouth and the faint flavor of wine. Her body pressed closer to his. His hands stroked her back and dropped to her waist, making vivid sensations bloom inside her skin.
When the kiss broke off she whispered, “I can’t marry him. I can’t. I have promised to but I can’t. I’ll die.”
“I’ll die as well, so we must figure this out.”
“Figure it out quickly, “Winston hissed. “They haven’t noticed you are gone yet, but they shall soon.”
Madelaine turned quickly. Winston lounged near the open doors, his figure barely discernible. Clare was with him. Madelaine whispered, “You must go Jonathan.”
He nodded and tipped his hat toward Clare and Winston. Madelaine headed for them, her eyes filling with tears. Clare’s lips were slightly puffy and she had a feeling that before they had interrupted her and Jonathan they had taken the time to share a kiss.
Clare said, a little loudly and just as the music ended, “I hope you feel better now dearest Madelaine.”
She glanced toward the open doors and hastened her footsteps. “I do, thank you.” Her voice carried over the sudden silence, “Thank you for escorting me out.”
The three of them reentered the room. Nobody batted an eye. It was hot and more than one person was giving the open doors a longing look.
The crowd milled about. Conversation bloomed and die. Reginald stood next to Victoria, who looked calm and sweet. Reginald looked proud and excited as he took Victoria’s hand and guided her across the room.
“It was a wonderful recital was it not?”
Madelaine knew how well her sister played. “Oh it was beautiful! I am so proud of you Victoria.”
Victoria looked pleased. “Thank you. Your Lordship, did you notice the one sour note I hit?”
Reginald shook his blond head. “No, and I doubt anyone else did either. You play marvelously.”
Victoria’s cheeks took on a faint pink stain. Their parents joined them. Lady de Winter asked, “Madelaine, are you overheated?”
“How could she not be?” Winston waved a hand in front of his face. “”Tis awful close in here.”
Clare fanned herself, making sure to move closer so the small breeze created by her fan hit his face. He gave her a smile.
Madelaine was grateful when they were called into dinner. She was less grateful when she was seated next to Reginald. The awkward silence between them hung and stretched. She had no idea what to say to him, and she did not have anything she wanted to say, other than a plea for him to break that contract.
As they piled into the carriages to head home Lady de Winter announced that the evening was quite a success, and that she would not be surprised at all if Clare was suddenly besieged by love notes and requests for walks from admi
rers. Clare just smiled. Winston glowered. Madelaine closed her eyes and pretended to sleep so she could relive the precious few moments that she had with Jonathan.
**
“I think I would like a turn around the garden. Madelaine, why don’t you come with me?” Clare gave her a winning smile.
The last thing she wanted to do was take a walk around the garden but she could tell that Clare wanted to go. She cast a look at Winston, who also looked eager. She sighed inwardly but put a smile on her face, “That sounds lovely. It was so heated at the dinner party, and so loud that a nice quiet turn in the night air and quiet would be a welcome distraction.”
Or not. She wanted to go to her room and crawl into bed and, hopefully, dream about Jonathan.
However she understood Clare’s desperation to be alone with Winston. She felt the same feverish need to be alone with Jonathan.
They headed toward the garden. Winston said, “I think I shall stroll along with you ladies. It is late after all.”
The three headed out the back entrance that led to the gardens. The moonlight lay along the paths, picking out the pretty stones that ran between nodding flowers and fragrant herbs.
Madelaine let Winston and Clare draw slightly ahead of her as they crossed the paths, all of them walking sedately. The breeze brought the fragrance of the roses and the other flowers and she took a deep and appreciative sniff of that fragrance.
She drew her light wrap closer to her body. The low bodice of her gown allowed the slightly chill breeze to linger on her chest and she did not want to catch cold.
Although a cold might help her to postpone that wedding!
“There you are.”
She started, a scream coming to her lips. That scream was cut off by Jonathan’s lips meeting hers. She sank against him, her eyes going to the back of the house. There were no lights on there. Her parent’s bedchambers sat on the west wing of the house, overlooking the pretty side yard with its fanciful fountains but there might be a servant about.
Or worse, Victoria.
“What are you doing here?” her breath was a gasp. “You take far too many chances!”