by Alec, Joyce
Johnston nodded. “Of course. Although I do not think I particularly like being referred to as ‘wily’. It makes me feel as though I am some sort of a stoat or weasel.”
Another chuckle escaped from Edward’s lips. “Hardly. But regardless, I am quite sure you will succeed in this matter. I have faith in you.”
His friend grunted, rolling his eyes. “Then, if all is settled, I suppose we ought to be going,” Johnston muttered, draining his glass as Edward rose from his chair. “We do not want to keep these many eager young ladies, who are so desperate to make my acquaintance, waiting!”
Edward laughed aloud before throwing back the rest of his own brandy. He was a little astonished to discover that he did, in fact, find himself looking forward to seeing Miss Earnest again. Pushing the thought aside and deciding that it was simply because he was eager to discover more about her and the hold her father had over her, he walked towards the door with Lord Johnston in tow, ready to make his way to Lord Hankel’s home.
9
“I did not expect to see you here this evening.”
It gave Edward a good deal of pleasure to see Miss Earnest so startled. She turned towards him with her eyes lit with surprise, but with a warm smile already beginning to curve her lips. She was, quite frankly, delightful.
“I received a late invitation,” she replied with a smile towards their host, Lord Hankel. “I am quite sure it is because we are now betrothed, and he wishes me to be in your company.”
Edward chuckled. “And I am delighted that you are here, Miss Earnest. Should you care for a short walk in the gardens? Lord Hankel has put on a marvelous display, I think.”
She tipped her head, and Edward felt his heart quicken at the sight of her. To have her by his side, wrapped in his arms would be the most wondrous of experiences, he was quite sure. Although, where such a thought had come from, he could not say.
“A marvelous display?” she repeated, putting her hand on his arm. “Of what kind?”
He shrugged, aware of the thrill that ran through him at her touch. “Lanterns mostly,” he replied, as they made their way towards the open door. “I believe he collects them.”
Her laugh lifted his spirits as they walked together. Glancing over his shoulder, Edward saw that Lord Gaines was watching them with sharp, beady eyes. This immediately brought a frown to his features, his heart filled with a sudden warning as he stepped outside with Miss Earnest on his arm.
“Your father is here also, I see,” he murmured, as they descended a few short steps into the gardens. “He will not mind if I walk with you?”
The smile had faded from Miss Earnest’s face. “No, of course he will not,” she replied with a false brightness that had the warning in his heart growing all the more. “He will be quite glad of it, I am sure.”
Edward frowned harder as Miss Earnest’s attention was caught by the lights and lanterns that were dotted about their path. Where Lord Hankel had found such oddities, Edward had very little idea, but they did make a rather interesting display, at least.
As they walked together, surrounded by the other guests who had come to see the display, Edward felt his mind fill with questions. He wanted to know as much about Miss Earnest – Dorothea – as he could, and yet no matter how often they talked or spent time in each other’s company, he often felt as though there was a barrier between them. A barrier that she herself had placed between them. Even now, there was a fear in her eyes that she would not admit to him. A fear over her father, he was certain. More and more, Edward was beginning to believe that Lord Gaines was not the ridiculous fool he appeared, but rather that there was something a good deal more sinister about him.
“Tell me, Dorothea,” he murmured, as they reached a quieter part of the gardens. “Is your father a kind man?”
A harsh laugh ripped from her lips, startling him, but Dorothea clapped one hand over her mouth and stared at him, coming to a dead halt by his side. Her eyes widened, and he was quite sure that he could see tears sparkling in her vision.
“You need not be afraid to speak freely,” he suggested gently. “I am not about to lecture you on respect for your father or the like.”
Dorothea shook her head wordlessly, her hand falling back to her side.
“I did not think him kind,” Edward continued carefully. “Not after he placed your hand in marriage on the table. However, I will confess to you, Dorothea, that I know very little about his character. Have you had much to endure?”
Tears filled her eyes all over again. Despite her attempts to blink them back, some fell from her eyes and landed softly onto her cheeks. Edward felt his heart break for her, wishing desperately that she would speak openly to him. Pulling his handkerchief from his pocket, he pressed it into her hand. She accepted it without a word. Turning her head away from him, she dabbed at her eyes and sniffed.
“I do apologize, Lord Turner,” she stammered, still unable to look at him. “I am being quite ridiculous, I know. It is just that no one has ever been able to see into my circumstances with such a keen eye before.”
He put one hand on her shoulder and gently turned her back to face him, aware that they were now quite alone in what was a quiet part of the gardens. “It does not take much observation to see that you have a fear of the man,” he said gently, praying that she would not tie up her emotions all over again and hide them from him entirely. “I can imagine that being his daughter must be, at times, rather difficult.”
“Yes,” she whispered, fresh tears falling. “It is.”
His hand had somehow found her own, and he held it tightly, wanting to assure her of his sympathy. There was a good deal more to what she had been enduring with her father, he was quite certain, but he did not expect her to tell him everything all at once.
“It has been a long time since anyone has been willing to ask me such a thing,” she confessed, her features lit with the flickering light of a nearby lantern. “I cannot tell you just how much that has soothed my soul.”
He drew nearer without really knowing what he was doing. There was something about her that pulled him in, that almost begged him to hold her close, and yet he kept his distance. This was not what he had expected when he had first come to know Dorothea. Had he not always told himself that his heart would never find any sort of love or affection for his wife?
He almost laughed at the idea of living a completely separate life from his wife when the time came. To have his days filled with nothing but himself, when he could have them shared with Dorothea – well, that was no choice at all! It was astonishing, even to him, just how close they had become over the last fortnight. Yes, they had been courting and that was the sole purpose of his court, to know his bride better, but he had never thought that his heart would become so entwined.
“You will not have him in your life for much longer,” he said in what he hoped was a reassuring voice. “I will never treat you as he has done, Dorothea. You need not be afraid of me. I will always consider you and treat you kindly. “
“I know that.”
Her hand had lifted from his and was now pressed lightly against his chest. She was looking at him in a way that no other person had ever done before, and Edward felt his breath hitch as he stood there in the flickering light. She raised her hand all the more, her fingers lightly on his neck, but he dropped his head, and she dropped her arm. He could not allow her to touch his scars, not yet. Perhaps not ever, for the fear of what her expression would reveal continued to burn a fear deep into his soul. Yet, the urge to take her in his arms grew steadily. Refusing to fight against the desire any longer, he stepped forward and pulled her lightly against him.
She froze for a moment, her back straight and shoulders tense, but he remained exactly where he was. His hands were about her waist, but he did not let them rove over her form, wanting to show her both respect and consideration in equal measure. Slowly, she began to relax against him, her head resting on his shoulder and one hand loosely about his neck.
&n
bsp; It was as if the heavens had broken open and the angels had come down to sing all about them. Edward had never experienced such a simple joy before, such an expression of trust and contentment that he felt his heart would break open in his chest. Closing his eyes, he gave himself up to all that he felt, aware that he was beginning to feel so protective towards his betrothed that it was as if he would stand before her and fall to the ground in death if it was required of him.
“You have nothing to fear from me,” he whispered in her ear, feeling her take a shuddering breath – although for what reason, he did not know. “Once we are wed, you will never have to see your father again if you do not wish it.”
Dorothea suddenly went rigid, and she stepped back from his embrace, her eyes roving about his face with a sudden anxiety. Her mouth opened, then closed, as though she had been about to say something and had thought the better of it. Her hands were still caught in his, and he held them firmly, refusing to let her go. She wanted to say something to him, and he felt himself silently urging her on, desperate for her to speak openly with him.
“My…my father is a cruel man,” she stammered eventually, her eyes still wide with fright. “He will do whatever he has to do in order to get what he wants.”
“And what does he want?” Edward asked softly, making sure not to put a single expression of anger into either his words or his features.
She slumped. “I do not know,” she whispered, her head lowering as though she were ashamed. “My father has refused each and every gentleman that came to call, Lord Turner. I was never allowed to accept the court of anyone. And then, from nowhere, I find I am engaged to you.”
Slowly, her eyes traveled up towards him, and Edward felt himself tense, as though he were frightened by what he would see in her expression. Her eyes had a haunted look, as though she had been forced to bear a heavy burden for far too long. There were traces of guilt on her face, as though she had something more to tell him but could not bring herself to do so. More than that, however, he recognized that there was a deep and terrible fear that he would turn his back on her, simply by this small revelation.
There was nothing he could say. He wanted to ask her more. He wanted to press her further but recognized that if he did so, she might fade away altogether. She would not be able to find the strength to continue speaking as she had done so, unable to be as courageous as she had been in telling him these things. Her delicate features, so broken by anxiety and fright, called out to his heart. Once again, Edward felt the urge to protect her and reassure her burst over him again.
“Then I shall find out what it is your father wants,” he said softly. “You need not be afraid, Dorothea. This is not your doing, is it? You have had no say in this whatsoever, as I recall you saying to me on the first night we met properly.”
Her eyes flickered, and a small smile tugged at her lips. “I was angry with you then,” she replied with a slight lift of her shoulders.”
“And courageous, to speak to me so,” he continued, letting his fingers cup her chin so that she looked into his eyes. “I can tell that it has taken almost all your strength to confess to me that you believe your father has set up our engagement from the start, but I will not turn my back on you, Dorothea. You need not worry that I will do so.”
A smile began to catch her lips, her eyes glistening. “Thank you, Lord Turner.”
He could not help but run his fingers over the column of her throat, marveling at the softness of her skin and feeling his heart quicken as he took her in. Goodness, she was beautiful in every single way, and Edward felt as though he did not deserve such a wonderful creature as Dorothea.
The urge to step forward and catch her lips with his, to kiss her soundly and let himself hold her tight against him again caught him entirely unaware, his whole body sparking with life. He saw Dorothea looking at him with a little uncertainty and yet with expectation but forced himself to drop his hand. Now was not the place to share such intimacies, not when she was so vulnerable. He had a greater respect for her than that.
“Come,” he said, offering her his arm. “I think there is to be a song or two, and I should not like to miss it.”
She smiled at him and accepted his arm at once, a sigh of contentment escaping from her lips. Edward felt content also, realizing that this wonderful creature accepted him just as he was, with his scars and his dark, troubled past. Miss Dorothea Earnest was truly the most wonderful of ladies, and it was little wonder that his heart was beginning to fill with a deep fondness for her.
10
“He has not said a word about me?”
Dorothea shook her head, finding the ongoing conversation with her father to be rather tiring. “No, Father. As I have told you, Lord Turner has said nothing.”
This did not seem to please her father, for he grasped her arm all the more tightly. Despite the fact that they were on the balcony of Lord Patton’s home, looking down at the ball below, he let his voice grow all the louder. “You had best not be lying to me, my girl.”
A slow curl of fear began to make its way through Dorothea’s stomach. “No, Father,” she murmured, looking into his eyes and seeing, behind his red face and angry eyes, there was a hint of terror. “I am not lying to you. Lord Turner has never once mentioned your name.”
Her father did not drop his hand. His fingers dug into her soft skin painfully, but Dorothea knew better than to complain.
“He is determined, I know it,” Lord Gaines whispered, his eyes widening as he looked from one place to the next. “I know he is determined.”
Dorothea did not want to ask what it was that Lord Turner was supposedly determined about and so remained steadfastly silent. Her father’s fingers tightened all the more, and Dorothea felt herself wince inwardly, refusing to let a single flicker of emotion show on her face.
When she had returned from St James’s Park a few days ago, she had lied to her father and told her that Lord Turner had not wished to discuss either his scars or the fire. Since that day, however, her father had become almost frantic when it came to the matter of Lord Turner. It was as if he was so afraid of him that he did not quite know what to do with himself, but he would never explain anything to Dorothea.
In a way, Dorothea found herself wanting to protect Lord Turner, wanting to ensure that her father never found out whatever it was he wished to know about her fiancé. She could not forget the look in his eyes when he had kissed her hand, nor could she forget the pain that she had seen there. Nor could she forget walking with him the depths of the gardens, feeling her heart fill with something she still could not explain. Lord Turner was becoming dear to her, she realized. Therefore, she would rather endure her punishment than allow Lord Turner to experience any kind of suffering at the hand of her father.
“You will tell me every single word that gentleman says to you, Dorothea,” her father hissed, his brows furrowing all the more. “I want to know everything, do you understand? You must find out about his scars. Find out what he knows.”
“Father,” Dorothea murmured desperately, trying her best to be both strong and somehow prevent him from inflicting yet more pain. “You know full well that I cannot tell you everything we share. We have only been courting but a fortnight, and all we have done is talk a little about what we enjoy, our families, and the plans for our marriage. That is all. Surely you cannot expect me to—”
“I must know everything!” her father exclaimed, his voice breaking over her own. “I must know if he—”
He stopped dead, his hand falling from her arm, as his eyes widened slightly. Aware that he had been about to say something that he did not want her to know, Dorothea stood quietly, her eyes a little narrowed as she ignored the pain in her arm.
“What is it you are so worried about, Father?” she asked tentatively, not wanting to give the impression that she thought he was afraid of Lord Turner, in case he should turn on her again. “If I know, then–”
“You need not know,” her father spat furious
ly. “Just ensure you tell me all that is spoken between you. I have the means to ruin both him and you. Should you refuse to obey me, Dorothea, as a daughter should, then I shall have no hesitation in doing just that. You will be thrown from the house and left to make your own way in the world. You will marry him, Dorothea. You will continue on as I have planned.”
Dorothea swallowed the lump in her throat, feeling tears prick at her eyes. All she had ever hoped for was a father who cared for her, a father who was concerned for her – and yet here he stood, demanding that she obey him else he would ruin her reputation for good. “Why do you do this to me, Father?”
Her question seemed to stump him for a moment. Regarding her carefully, he gave a small, disinterested shrug. “Because there are greater matters going on than you know, Dorothea. Because you were not the son I have always required. Because, when it comes to it, you matter very little to me.”
His lip curled into a sneer, and he stepped away, brushing against her so hard that she stumbled a little against the balcony rail. Tears flooded her eyes as she tried to force her breathing to remain steady, afraid that she would break down into a flood of tears that would then be evident in her features.
She felt entirely alone. To refuse her father would be to bring about her ruin and that of Lord Turner’s. She had not even the slightest hope that her father would turn from his plans. She was quite sure that he would do everything he had stated if she did not obey. And yet, she could not do it. Not when she did not know what her father intended.
“Miss Earnest?”
Jumping in surprise, Dorothea turned to see Lady Patton standing nearby, looking a little uncertain. Hugely embarrassed to have been caught so upset, Dorothea wiped her eyes hastily, before turning back to her hostess.