by Rebecca King
If only life were that perfect, Alicia thought before briskly returning to the problem of persuading Sissy to change.
‘Try them on. Choose the one you are happiest with. You are welcome to them all if you want them. They aren’t Mariette’s no matter what she thinks. Anything that you don’t use will be returned to the shop because she was wrong to order them,’ Alicia said although why she was babbling was beyond her.
Sissy murmured her thanks. While she didn’t want to wear any of them because she felt as if they were Mariette’s, Sissy saw herself in the mirror. Her dress was not just ruined, it was practically transparent and not something she should wear even to leave the house. She had no choice but to change into one of the new dresses if only to preserve her dignity.
‘Thank you.’
‘Come on downstairs when you are ready,’ Alicia urged with a smile before she quietly let herself out of the room.
Sissy studied the dresses. They truly were beautiful and something she could see Mariette wearing. Now that she was alone, Sissy relaxed and, consequently, was a little bolder about inspecting the fashionable cut of the fine material. They were truly wonderful, and so tempting that she couldn’t resist trying at least one on. Quickly divesting herself of her ruined dress, Sissy picked up the dress Alicia had suggested she wear mostly because the other dresses were evening gowns. It fitted as if it had been made for her. The delicate material felt like silk as it slid over her slender frame. It was a little looser than she would have liked but felt heavenly. So much so, she twirled in front of the mirror and inspected herself from every angle.
Her delight slowly faded, though, the longer she looked in the mirror. She knew that no matter how she dressed she could never feel equal to the woman Morgan had been talking to just now. She felt as if she was borrowing someone else’s life.
‘She won’t embarrass him,’ she whispered aloud as she contemplated the woman he was with.
Feeling more miserable than ever, Sissy sucked in a breath and forced herself to turn away. She picked up her ruined dress and draped it over her arm before turning to leave.
‘All I have to do is get through tea and then we will be free to leave. All I have to do then is make sure that I never return.’
As far as she was concerned now, she had to have a quiet word with Norma and discuss with her whether it was time to move somewhere else and start afresh. If not, then Sissy had no idea what she was going to do. She could only hope that Alicia’s trip to Scotland would stop Morgan calling by and allow a natural distance to develop between them that would put paid to any further passionate clinches and the scurrilous gossip.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Sissy retraced her steps to the top of the stairs. As she quietly descended to the main entrance hall she was painfully aware of the laughter and friendly chatter coming from the library. Doing everything to avoid it, she kept her gaze locked firmly on the door opposite where she hoped to find her aunt and Alicia finishing their tea.
Inside the library, Morgan stepped away from Doralee and lowered his arm, forcing her to remove her hold on him. He mentally cursed when she stepped after him and tried to touch him again. Annoyed, he turned to glare at Mariette. While he was pleased to see Doralee because he was a good friend of her father’s he had no personal interest in her beyond that. Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said for Doralee who, for some reason only known to herself, seemed to have set her matrimonial sights upon him.
Damn you, Mariette. I hope to God you have not done anything to encourage her.
But when Morgan looked up and his gaze collided with his sister’s he did indeed suspect that Mariette had said something to Doralee.
‘I am afraid that I am going to cut back on my social engagements,’ Morgan announced.
‘Oh, but father will be so delighted if you can come for the weekend,’ Doralee protested. She sidled closer. ‘It would be nice if we could spend a little time together.’
Morgan was already shaking his head before Doralee had finished. ‘I think you should know that I am engaged to be married.’
Doralee blinked at him. ‘But I thought it had been agreed that she was not suitable for you, and that she was to remain your mistress instead.’
Morgan squinted at her. ‘Mariette is wrong,’ he said quietly. ‘It is not for her to tell you about my personal life. It is purely mine and not open to speculation. Moreover, Sissy is not my mistress and I am offended that you should think that of her.’
‘Oh, but-’
‘I shall, of course, write to your father and decline his kind invitation,’ Morgan replied. ‘Further, I would strongly advise that you are a little more wary about which gossips you listen to and how much you rely on their honesty.’
With a warning look, Morgan turned away from Mariette’s friend. He stalked out of the room without bothering to give anybody another look. A deadly silence fell in his wake because he had spoken loud enough for all of them to hear, but Morgan didn’t care. What mattered more than anything was returning to Sissy.
The last thing he expected was to find her descending the stairs looking so stunningly beautiful he immediately forgot about Mariette and her friends.
‘Good Lord,’ he murmured.
Boris also turned to stare in amazement at the young woman who was making her way steadily toward them. Morgan stepped closer to the bottom step and watched her without even realising he had moved. She looked like Sissy. That riotous mop of curls was the same, as was that gorgeous face of hers, but the rest of her looked so elegant and it wasn’t just because of the dress.
Maybe it is because of the dress that she walks so much taller, with her slender shoulders that much straighter, and her chin tipped that little bit higher. She belongs here.
Sissy looked every inch of an aristocratic lady, even more so than the young women who were presently in his library because Sissy had an air of maturity about her that made her almost regal.
‘You look stunning,’ he whispered when she joined him.
Sissy blushed but inwardly warned herself not to be too delighted by his compliment. It hurt to even look at him after what she had witnessed. When he held a hand out to her she took it because she had to. She smiled her thanks because she couldn’t speak past the lump in her throat.
‘Morgan, you sly old dog, you,’ a jovial voice called from the doorway to the library.
The young man who stepped into the entrance hall boldly raked Sissy with an appreciative look. ‘Where have you been hiding her?’
‘Charlton, this is Miss Sissy Finchley, my fiancé,’ Morgan announced.
Charlton stepped closer and looked at Morgan, clearly nonplussed for a moment. ‘Sissy?’ He frowned. ‘The old family friend?’
‘We have known each other for a long time, yes,’ Morgan acknowledged. He prayed that Sissy wouldn’t object to his impromptu announcement.
She didn’t because she wanted to see what the young man’s reaction would be. She suspected that if he was one of Mariette’s friends, up to date on the latest gossip, and knew about Mariette’s hatred of her, she would get an honest reaction that was likely to be echoed by other members of Morgan’s social set. Before the man could react, though, he was joined by others from the library.
‘Fiancé, did you say?’ A young woman gasped, stepping closer to run an assessing gaze down Sissy. Dressed as she was, though, there was nothing the woman could say.
Sissy had never felt so judged in her life. She waited, her heart thundering, for that inevitable insult.
Morgan felt the atmosphere shift as more people came to the doorway to see her. Sissy’s hand trembled on his arm but he refused to lead her into the sitting room. This was his house. He saw no reason to hide her away as if he was ashamed of her. Instead, he remained where he was and met Charlton’s gaze head on.
‘But I thought-’ Charlton murmured as if confused. He stared at Morgan then Sissy and then Morgan again until he seemed to come to some sort of decision. ‘Ah! I
get it now. Of course.’ He nodded, and then raked another assessing look down Sissy, as if sizing up the attributes of a horse at market. Pursing his lips he made no attempt to introduce himself. Instead, he returned to the library and headed straight over to the brandy decanter Morgan knew he had already half emptied.
‘Mariette, I think it is time for your guests to leave now,’ Morgan growled, glaring at Doralee who was elbowing Mariette as if trying to get her attention.
But Mariette was too busy staring hard at Sissy to notice. The malice in her eyes was enough to make Morgan relieved that Mariette was going off to Scotland. Hopefully, if she returned to the estate, she would be at least old enough to behave with a modicum of civility.
‘Excuse us,’ Morgan replied without bothering to introduce Sissy to the rest of them. Instead, he led her into the morning room.
‘Sir.’
Morgan sighed and turned to glare at his butler. ‘What is it, Boris?’
‘I have Simons here. There is an emergency,’ Boris replied.
Morgan glared at the butler but refrained from snarling at the man. ‘Tell him I will be there in a moment.’
‘It’s fine. You go,’ Sissy murmured with a brave smile she really didn’t feel.
Morgan nodded and led her into the room only to sigh in consternation when he found it empty. Rather than try to find Alicia and Norma, he turned to Sissy. ‘I am sorry about them,’ he said with a nod to the door and the guests who were all murmuring in the hallway.
‘There is nothing to apologise for,’ Sissy assured him with a smile. She wanted to cry but knew that with Mariette around it was the very last thing she should do. Showing that woman any kind of weakness would undoubtedly make Mariette worse. ‘You go on. I am sure my aunt is out in the garden with your mother. I will go and find them.’
Morgan nodded.
‘Sir,’ Boris prompted.
With a heavy sigh, Morgan bit back a curse and turned to leave. At the last moment, he slid a gentle finger down the soft silk of Sissy’s cheek. She didn’t move, or blink. Sissy merely stared at him as if she had never seen him before in her life. He sensed a distance between them. Had the farmer’s problem not been an emergency he would have sent the farmer on his way and dealt with Sissy’s upset there and then but he couldn’t.
‘I will be back soon,’ he promised before quietly taking his leave.
Closing the door behind him, Morgan paused for a moment. He wondered if he should leave her alone, especially with Mariette nearby, but seeing as she was busy with her friends doubted that she would bother to give Sissy a second thought. Shaking off his doubts, Morgan stalked toward his office at the back of the house to deal with the farmer’s emergency instead.
Sissy stared at the closed door. She had to work especially hard to keep her outwardly calm demeanour in place. She ambled over to the open French doors and stared outside. Her aunt and Alice were wandering around the rose garden again, deep in conversation. It didn’t seem right to go outside and interrupt them.
Besides, the last thing I want is to end up trailing behind them as if I am an accessory there as well.
In fact, over the last few moments she had received a stark warning that she truly didn’t belong in any part of the house. She didn’t belong in the dress she wore, the library with Mariette and Morgan’s friends, or out in the rose garden in conversation with her aunt and Alicia.
I don’t belong in the morning room either.
That much was evident in the fact that while Morgan had indeed told everyone that she was to be his future wife, he hadn’t gone so far as to introduce her to anyone other than the fop who had come to the library doorway first. It was as if Morgan hadn’t wanted to introduce her to the society he usually moved about in. Was that because he was embarrassed about being with her? If so, why had he told them that she was to be his wife? The more Sissy contemplated that the more she realised it was most probably because Morgan hadn’t wanted to give the guests the impression that he had been caught with his mistress in his house. That was deeply embarrassing. So much so, Sissy looked at the clock and wondered how long it would be before she could go home. She hoped that Norma and Alicia would be back soon. Then she could make her excuses and be on her way and put it all behind her for one day. All she had to do for now was wait and hope that whatever business had taken Morgan away would keep him away for now, at least until she had a chance to escape.
With nothing to do, Sissy ambled back to the tea things but truly didn’t want anything to eat or drink. Bored, she headed over to the shelves beside the fireplace and busied herself for several minutes reading the titles. At first, she didn’t realise that the door behind her had opened. It wasn’t until she heard a quiet click of it being closed, and whirled around to see what had caused it, that she realised she was no longer alone in the room.
It wasn’t Morgan, though. The new arrival was the young fop: Charlton.
Even from across the room she could smell brandy on his breath. He stared at her, but not spitefully. He raked her with a look that was assessing, but more leering than any she had ever received before. Sissy eyed the French doors beside her.
‘Well, he hid you away nicely, didn’t he?’ Charlton drawled, his words slurred, his stagger a little unsteady. He ambled over to her and slumped onto the chaise between them. ‘Come and sit down. I won’t bite you.’
‘I am fine, thank you,’ Sissy murmured politely, her heart racing with growing unease.
‘What’s wrong? Am I not good enough for you? I suppose when there is Morgan in the house you are kept busy enough,’ Charlton murmured.
‘I have no idea what you mean. I just came to tea with my aunt,’ Sissy replied but then clamped her mouth closed because she could see no reason why she should explain herself to him. There was absolutely nothing wrong with visiting Morgan’s house to take tea. If there had been Alicia would not have invited her.
‘If that is the story you want to stick to,’ Charlton replied with an off-hand shrug.
‘There is no story,’ Sissy insisted with a frown.
‘Oh, don’t go getting your feathers ruffled, I am only teasing. Morgan is old enough and this is his house. He doesn’t have to apologise for introducing us to his doxy, although it might have been wiser if you had stayed up in the bed chamber until we had all left. No wonder he doesn’t want Mariette entertaining here,’ Charlton drawled.
‘I just changed my dress,’ Sissy whispered.
The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. Deep in the back of her mind a warning voice was screeching at her to keep quiet and not say anything that his man might be able to misconstrue, but the words came tumbling out because a sense of fairness compelled her to say them. She hated being judged and found wanting. She knew she wasn’t enough for Morgan but didn’t need this man to rub salt into her already painful wounds.
Charlton sighed heavily when he realised that Sissy wasn’t going to join him. Slowly ambling over to the doorway, he turned to run a finger over the books. Bit by bit, step by small step, he edged around the room touching various ornaments here and there, perusing the books on the shelves like she had. When he edged closer to her, Sissy took a wary step back.
‘You don’t have to look so scared,’ he teased. ‘I don’t bite.’
Sissy remained quiet.
Charlton shook his head. ‘It took me a moment to realise why he didn’t introduce you to everyone else. I do have to ask why he felt the need to tell everybody that you are to be his wife, though. He can hardly expect us to accept that you might be anything more than his mistress.’
‘Why not?’ Sissy tipped her chin up defiantly and glared at the man with all the arrogant scorn she could muster.
‘You, my dear, are quite clearly not what you appear to be. Mariette has made it clear that you had caught Morgan’s eye but that you are unconnected, and without any kind of wealth whatsoever. I mean, I can understand why he would take it in mind to move you in, however tempora
rily, but you must understand how men like Morgan work. When he has tired of you he will move on. Men like him marry women like Doralee, Mariette’s friend. They are connected, well-bred, titled, and often bring more to a marriage than a poor relation.’
Sissy felt tears hovering on her lashes but there was nothing she could do about them. ‘I am not his play-thing,’ she whispered.
‘Really?’ Charlton smiled snidely. Again, he raked her with a knowing look. ‘Then why would he suddenly invite you to dine, and then take tea? Why would he show interest in you out in public? Why did he not protect your reputation by being more discrete about what you were doing?’
Sissy couldn’t think of anything to say because she knew he was right. Morgan hadn’t tried to hide his attraction to her.
‘You really didn’t think he would be interested in you, do you?’ Charlton laughed cynically. ‘My God, you did. You really thought that Morgan would offer for the likes of you. You really thought that you would be more than his plaything.’ Shaking his head, Charlton tutted at her. ‘You are a doxy. He is what? One and thirty and yet unwed. Now, why is that? Might it be that he has no need to marry when he has women like you ready to fall into his bed whenever he bats his eyes at you? Might it be that Mariette’s determination to marry him off might have given him a reason to avoid the ballrooms for a while. With nobody else nearby to entertain him, he had to turn to you, someone his family once knew. Someone he feels duty bound to keep in contact with out of deference to his father’s memory.’
Sissy stared at him. His face blurred through her tears. So much so she didn’t at first realise when he moved closer until she blinked and could see the irises in his eyes. Leaning away from him she watched his lip curl.
‘Get away from me,’ she hissed.
‘Oh, don’t worry. I wouldn’t touch you. Not until Morgan has cast you aside anyway. He will, you know. Like yesterday’s dirty dish water. When he has ruined you, of course. You, silly fool that you are, will let him, won’t you? With stars in your eyes and hope in your heart for something you know you couldn’t possibly attain in any ordinary circumstance, you will allow him to take what he wants. We all know that.’