by Regina Darcy
Turning the second letter over, he saw that it bore his family’s seal, which meant that it could only be from his mother. They had corresponded infrequently, but he had not wanted her to worry or to be unaware of what his intentions were. He had made it quite clear that he would relinquish his title to his brother should it come to it, for there were ways and means to declare himself dead when he was still very much alive. His mother had been confused and upset, of course, but he had done his best to reassure her. How wonderful it would be to write to her and let her know that he was returning home!
“From your mother I presume?” Raven murmured as William opened the letter.
William chuckled. “Given that there is no-one else who corresponds with me, you are quite right in your assumption.” He read the letter quickly, his eyebrows lifting with surprise. “It seems my brother is to marry. How strange! I had not heard of him being inclined in such a way before I left for the war, but mother must have worked at him until he has agreed to such a thing.”
“Marriage is not as poor a prospect as you like to make out, Sotheby,” Lord Raven commented mildly. “It is just that so many gentlemen do not choose wisely.”
“That is quite true I am sure,” William replied firmly, his thoughts going to Miss Winters for no apparent reason. “Regardless, mother is holding a ball a week from today and I intend to be there for it.”
“I know she will be delighted to see you again,” Lord Raven said, pouring himself a cup of coffee. “However, I must warn you to continue to be on your guard. This investigation is nowhere near complete.”
William nodded and refolded the letter. “Of course, I am well aware of that.”
“Good.” Glancing at the old clock in the corner of the room, Lord Raven lifted one eyebrow. “Are you not going to be late for your next appointment?”
“Appointment?” William repeated frowning. “What appointment?” He glanced at the clock and then back at Lord Raven, only to realise that his time for fencing with Miss Winters was drawing near. Throwing himself from the chair, he practically ran from the room, hearing Lord Raven’s laughter coming after him.
Miss Winters was waiting for him, her face inexplicably flushed as he arrived, even though it was neither a cool nor warm day.
“Did you walk here?” he asked, throwing off his coat. When she shook her head and glanced away, her face now almost scarlet, he shrugged and picked up his foil, stepping forward to hand her the other. Their fingers brushed as she took it, making him pause for a moment, staring down into her eyes. He was struck by just how vivid in colour and intensity they were.
Stepping back, he broke the connection between them and took his stance ready to proceed. After a momentary pause, she prepared herself and the sparring commenced.
For half an hour, William focused on teaching her everything he could, impressed with her skill. He shouted words of encouragement as their foils clashed together, sometimes stopping to show her a better technique or to get her to practice a certain stroke.
Eventually when he noticed she started breathing heavily, he called for a break and sat down on the grass. He leaned his arms back and watched as she drew in long breaths of air.
She sat next to him, her eyes on him. He could feel the intensity in her gaze. He was getting a strange feeling that something was quite different, although he did not yet know what.
“Are you well, Mr Weston?” she asked haltingly, something in her expression making him think she was expecting something.
He chuckled. “I am just a little out of breath, that is all,” he replied with a quick grin. “You are doing very well, my dear.”
She blushed and ducked her head, the rosiness in her cheeks making him think her even more lovely than usual. He waited until she looked up at him again, a smile stretching his lips. He was going to miss fencing with her. The thought of it brought a sharp pain to his heart, something he was not expecting.
He frowned.
Did he truly not wish to leave her? Could it be possible that she meant more to him than he’d allowed himself to acknowledge?
“Are you troubled, Weston?”
Her quiet voice brought him back to the moment, seeing her leaning towards him a little with a slight frown on her face as she studied him.
“I am a little,” he replied truthfully. “The investigation has cleared me of wrongdoing.”
She gasped, her eyes lighting with happiness. “That is wonderful!” she exclaimed, a broad smile on her face. “Are you not pleased with such news?”
“I am,” he said, not quite managing to smile back at her in return. “However, this does mean that I can return to town and return to my life.”
“Your life as Mr Sotheby,” she replied emphasising his lack of title as though she expected him to correct her. For whatever reason, William did not do so, his heart growing suddenly sorrowful over the thought of parting from her. “It does mean that I shall not be living with Lord Raven any longer,” he said quietly. “I have written to my mother, who expects me back in London very soon. Our fencing lessons shall have to come to an end.”
He watched as the brightness left her expression, her eyes dimming.
“Oh,” she murmured, suddenly glancing away and sitting up straight. “I had not thought of that.” As he watched, she drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around them, turning her body away from his gaze. Something in him wanted to go to her, to take her in close and reassure her that this was not the end of their friendship. And so, boldly, he did as he wanted.
Pushing himself forward, he came to sit directly beside her, leaving only the smallest of gaps between them. He saw the way she jumped as she glanced over at him, evidently disappointed in what he had said.
“Are you quite sure we shall not meet again?” she asked quietly, her mouth twitching as she looked up at him. “I believe that we shall.”
“I am sure we will,” he said, not knowing whether he could truly believe it or not. “Although I am not sure we will be able to fence again.”
“You have taught me so much already,” she replied, leaning into him with a boldness that surprised him. “I am forever in your debt, and who knows? We might yet fence again in the future.”
He chuckled at her perseverance, and without realising what he was doing it, placed one arm around her shoulders and tugged her in towards him. She went without protest, and together they sat staring out across the countryside. William drew in a long breath, feeling more than content as he sat with Miss Winters, growing a little sad over his need to part from her.
“We are going to London next week,” she said eventually, surprising him. “I assume you are to return home as well, now that all has been settled?”
“I am,” he replied, not lifting his hand from her shoulder. “Although I have been warned to be careful. Whoever set me up on the battlefield did not achieve what they wished, although they came very close to it. Even though I am able to return home, I cannot say that they will not try to do me harm again.”
He felt her shudder and tightened his grip, heat rushing through him as she leaned her head on his shoulder, her hair brushing his cheek.
“I might see you in town,” she said so quietly that he could barely hear her. “What would you say to that?”
“I would like that very much,” he murmured, looking down at her as she lifted her head. “You have become quite dear to me, Miss Winters.”
“And you to me also,” came her breathless reply, her mouth now only an inch away from his.
William lingered there for a long moment, torn between the sudden, fierce desire to press her mouth to his and the knowledge that it could force him to make promises he was not sure he could keep. Heat flooded his body as her eyes met his, waiting for him to make his choice.
With a huge swell of regret, William slowly inched away from her, breaking the growing intimacy that was developing around them. He saw the disappointment in her eyes and had to turn away, feeling the swift kick of frustration in h
is own heart.
“I suppose we should make the most of this time,” he heard her say, her voice filled with forced cheerfulness. “This is our last lesson, is it not?”
“It must be,” he replied, pushing himself to his feet and turning to help her rise, only to discover that she was already waiting for him. “For the time being at the very least.” He smiled at her, feeling hope flicker to life in his chest that he would see her again and that perhaps they might be able to continue what they had already started.
He picked up his rapier and looked at her, catching the pain and confusion on her face which was swiftly replaced with a quick smile. She had not hidden her true feelings from him in time, however, making him feel like the biggest cad in all of England.
“Now is not the time, nor the place, to begin to explore what might be between us,” he said softly, aware that a rush of heat was creeping up his neck. “I do hope you understand.”
To his surprise, a wide and genuine smile spread across her face, making her eyes light with happiness.
“Oh, I quite understand, my lord,” she replied softly. “Thank you for explaining.” Her smile grew somewhat coy, making a burst of heat flood his entire being. “I am already looking forward to our next meeting in London.”
“As am I,” he agreed, however, unsure when that would be. “I am quite sure that we shall meet again very soon, my dear Miss Winters. My life shall be quite dull back in London, and I shall need your brightness to lift my spirits.”
Her smile grew wider with almost every word he spoke, and it was with some regret that he finished their lesson and bade her farewell.
“We shall meet again very soon,” she murmured, stepping closer to him and brushing her lips across his cheek. “I have no doubt about it. Thank you for everything you have taught me, my lord. I believe I am forever in your debt.”
William discovered that his mouth had gone almost completely dry, his skin still tingling from the imprint of her lips against his cheek. He could not say a single word in farewell, simply standing there watching her walk away and feeling his heart filling with all kinds of inexpressible emotions.
Whatever was he to do?
SEVEN
Theodora gazed at herself in the mirror, hardly able to believe that what she saw was her very own reflection. The maid had done a wonderful job with her long tresses, curling them up and pinning them in an intricate fashion that had taken her some hours. It had all been worth it, however, for Theodora barely recognised herself! Her palms grew sweaty as she considered that tonight would be the first time she would meet her husband to be even though she was already well aware of who he was.
Her heart squeezed tightly at the thought of him, remembering the last time they had met. It had been out in the countryside, their foils clanging and clashing together much like her heart had done in her chest. She had barely been able to breathe when he’d moved closer to her, her entire being tingling with anticipation. How strange it had been that they’d been so close, but still he had moved away from her when the opportunity had been there to kiss her.
At the time, she had been more than a little confused over his actions, finding it strange that he had not mentioned their betrothal to her, almost as if he was not aware of it. But then just before they had begun their final sparring session, he had spoken such kind and tender words to her that her heart had lifted, and she’d realised that he had felt it entirely improper to speak of their engagement when it was not yet official. It was to be expected from a man of high rank, of course, and she had calmed her worries with that knowledge.
“I am quite sure that we shall meet again very soon, my dear Miss Winters. My life shall be quite dull back in London, and I shall need your brightness to lift my spirits,” he had said to her, his eyes filled with such emotion that she had wanted to run to him, to fling her arms around his neck and declare that she already cared for him in ways she could hardly express. Instead, she had pressed her lips to his cheek, seeing the spark in his eyes and feeling the very same in her own heart. It was a promise; a promise that they would meet again and declare to the whole world that they were to be joined together as husband and wife. She was so happy.
Theodora was quite glad for him, that he was able to return to the capital after being hidden away for so long under a false name. Whoever it was that had set him up on the battlefield was clearly a madman intent on bringing him down for whatever reason. Theodora felt her stomach knot as she dwelt on the fact that the man responsible might yet be in their midst somewhere. At least Lord Raven had been able to remove the title of ‘traitor’ from his head, for what future could they have then? How glad she was for his assistance, for finding a way for William to return to his life without a single mark besmirching his reputation. Not that she would not have married him regardless, for even without a title, without any wealth or future prospects, Theodora was quite sure she would have still agreed to the betrothal without hesitation.
She loved the man, that was for certain. She had never experienced such feelings as this in her life, could hardly get the man from her thoughts! It was as though everything she saw, everything she said or did, reminded her in some way of him. Theodora felt a blush rise to her cheeks as she recalled the heat between them, the way his lips had parted as he had looked down at her. She had been bold but unable to stop herself from making her desire clear. Even though she only had to wait but a few more days between seeing him on the hillside and then seeing him at their engagement ball, she hadn’t been able to simply wait patiently as she ought.
Then again, William knew her not to be particularly ladylike already, and clearly he did not mind all that much either. There had not been any kind of dismay on his face when they’d talked of going to London, and he certainly did react to her in a way that gave her hope that their marriage might be one of love and affection. The happiness of it all brought a contented smile to her face and she let out a long, joyful sigh.
“Ah, Theodora!”
Turning, Theodora saw her sisters Caroline and Beatrice enter her bedchamber, all dressed in their finery. They looked beautiful, and she rose at once to greet them.
“Are you ready to leave? Father has called for the carriage.”
Theodora nodded, giving herself one last glance as though to check for any imperfections.
“You look quite wonderful,” Beatrice said smiling. “Your betrothed, whomever he is, is sure to be delighted with you.”
Theodora could not hold her joy in any longer, and now that the evening of the ball was upon them, wanted to tell her sisters all. “I know who my betrothed is,” she said quietly, seeing her sisters gasp in astonishment. “I know it is quite unorthodox, but I have been seeing him twice a week for the last few weeks.”
There was a brief silence, and Theodora saw the horrified expression on her sisters’ faces, without a single trace of a smile. A twist in her stomach had her frowning, wondering what it was that made them so distressed. A sudden realisation had her describing the situation with a little more clarity.
“I have been taking fencing lessons,” she explained quickly, realising what they thought. “Mr Weston has been teaching me.” Heat rose in her face as she understood that they thought her meeting with Mr Weston was for an entirely different and quite passionate reason.
Their relief was tangible. “Oh!” Caroline exclaimed at once, her shoulder sagging. “I do apologise for my initial reaction, Theodora, but you have always been quite unconventional and I thought …”
“I should never allow my virtue to be questioned,” Theodora replied with a slight frown. “A man has never tried to take advantage of me, and I for one despite my foibles know what is beyond the pale. I would not allow myself to ever be caught up in such a situation.” Seeing the apologetic looks on her sisters’ faces, Theodora drew a breath and tried to smile. “You remember I spoke to Father about taking fencing lessons? I wanted to share the same passion for the sport as our mother had, but Father would not let me
find someone to teach me. Without going into too much detail, I somehow managed to stumble across Mr Weston who agreed to teach me.”
A look of awareness appeared on Caroline’s face. “This explains your sudden great love of the outdoors,” she said slowly. “You have been disappearing almost three afternoons a week and never accepted company. I simply thought you wished to be alone to be out in the wind and the air!”
Theodora chuckled. “Whilst that is true, I was meeting Mr Weston for my lessons and, if I may say so, making great progress. Mr Weston is an excellent tutor.”
“Mr Weston is your betrothed?” Beatrice asked, sounding more confused than ever. “But I thought you were to marry a duke?”
“The Duke of Sotheby,” Theodora replied almost dreamily. “He has been forced to hide his correct title and call himself Mr Weston, but I know that this is the man I am to marry.”
“Did he say as much to you?”
“No,” Theodora replied calmly. “He could not. It would not be proper. It is going to be a wonderful occasion this evening when we can both finally speak of it, once it is known to all.”
There was a short silence as her sisters stared at her, thinking she had quite lost her senses.
“How can you be sure, Theodora?” Caroline asked slowly. “Mr Weston might be no-one of import. This might all be a mistake. The last thing I want for you is for you to have your hopes and expectations dashed this evening, especially when there is to be a large gathering.”