by Dawn Brower
Then she turned on her heel and started toward the ducal study. The door was closed as it often was, so she knocked to get her husband’s attention.
After George called, “Enter,” from the other side, Margaret opened the door and was not surprised in the least to find Lucien seated in one of the chairs before his grandfather.
The distress on her grandson’s face matched the concern that had squeezed her heart ever since hearing Cara’s tale. And there was only one thing that would have brought Lucien to Hythe House, sporting that expression. “I’ve just seen her,” she said to her grandson.
“And how is she?” George asked softly from his spot behind his desk.
Margaret met her husband’s eyes and shook her head. “Rather upset, which should be expected under the circumstances.” She crossed the floor of the study and slid into the seat beside Lucien’s.
“Darling called Chopwell out,” her grandson said. “Did she tell you that?”
Margaret nodded her head. “But I haven’t heard anything in Town—”
“And you won’t.” He heaved a sigh. “I saw Darling this morning. Chopwell fled to France yesterday rather than facing him at dawn today.”
“I’m not certain if that will make her feel better or worse.” Margaret frowned at her grandson as the first thing he said echoed in her ears. “You saw Darling today?”
Lucien nodded.
“And how did he seem to you?”
George narrowed his eyes slightly on Margaret, but she ignored her husband for the moment. How Darling was faring was a rather important question and one she would very much like an answer to.
Lucien shifted a little uncomfortably in his seat. “He seemed like Darling.”
Her grandson could be quite stubborn if he was of a mind. “And did he say anything about Cara?” she pressed, determined to get an answer one way or another.
A sigh escaped Lucien. “He wished her well with the salt vote.”
“And that was it?” Her brow lifted in disbelief.
“Margaret,” George said quietly.
But she shook her head. “That girl is like a granddaughter to us, and I’m rather certain her heart was broken in Essex. All I want to know is whether or not Darling is equally affected.”
At that, Lucien met her gaze directly and said, “He’s Darling, Grandmother. He has an aversion to love, but if I had to make a wager—”
George coughed into his fist.
“—Poor word choice.” Lucien shrugged. “I’ve seen them together. And perhaps it was all a game to him, but I don’t think it was. I can’t see him challenging Chopwell if he didn’t have some affection for Cara. I don’t think he would have been invested otherwise.”
Which was precisely what Margaret thought about the situation too, but it was nice to hear it confirmed. “Then we’ll invite him to dinner, and—”
“He’ll never come,” Lucien said. “He’s convinced she hates him and I don’t imagine he’ll darken your doorway while Cara’s still in residence.”
So Darling was going to be stubborn, was he? Then it was a very good thing that Margaret had already sent for Agnes, Harriet and Edith. Between the four of them, something could be sorted out.
Chapter 14
DAY EIGHT
Linthorpe House, Mayfair
Cara squeezed the duchess’ hand as they climbed the stoop to Linthorpe House with the duke right behind them. Even after riding through the park with Lord Ellisfield the day before and entertaining Lord Woodsford in the Hythe parlor that afternoon, she wasn’t certain she was ready for so large a public outing as the Linthorpe soiree this evening. However, Her Grace had pressed upon her the importance of making the Duke of Linthorpe’s acquaintance as well as the other influential peers that would be in attendance. The fact that the Hythes would be with her did help Cara breathe a little easier. She wouldn’t find herself in the same sort of situation as she had at Atherton Park. She wouldn’t be in any sort of danger tonight. It would be the first step in her reclaiming a bit of her independence.
The Linthorpe butler ushered the three of them into the drawing room and Cara immediately noticed Lord Daniel Westham standing near the far corner. Upon meeting her eye, he tipped his head in a slight greeting and then returned to the conversation he was engaging in with a gentleman who was of similar height and build, but with hair more flaxen than Lord Daniel’s golden hues.
“The Duke of Linthorpe,” the duchess muttered under her breath, loud enough for only Cara to hear.
“And Lord Daniel,” she replied.
“Indeed.” The duchess smiled and nodded. “The closest of brothers.”
Were they really? Cara hadn’t realized the two men were siblings. That was a bit worrisome. Considering Lord Daniel’s wager with Reese, would his brother be amendable to having his vote swayed by her? Or would he care one way or the other?
The Duke of Hythe stepped around them and offered his arm to Cara. “Come along, my dear, I’ll introduce you to some fellows whose positions can be won.”
Fellows who may or may not be the Duke of Linthorpe. Either way, making more such acquaintances was why Cara had come to London and to this very soiree. So she gladly took the older man’s arm and allowed him to lead her toward a small group gathered not too far away. He introduced her to the Earl of Upwell, Viscount Greencroft, and the Earl of Plumstead.
Plumstead? Sounded so familiar. Wasn’t that—
“Miss Beckett is here representing Beckett Salt and the Bermudian interests in the Turks Islands,” the Duke of Hythe began. “I expect there will be a vote in parliament later this season and hope that you will each give Miss Beckett’s arguments serious consideration before making your final decisions.”
“Oh, indeed,” Lord Upwell replied. “My wife mentioned something of that nature to me not long ago.” Then he flashed a smile toward Cara and continued, “I am rather interested in what you have to say, Miss Beckett.”
“Thank you.” But before Cara could say more, she noticed something out of the corner of her eye. She glanced toward the threshold and the air whooshed from her lungs.
Goodness!
Reese stood just inside the doorway, looking just as dashing as he had that first night at the Loxtons. He met her gaze and a chill rippled down her spine. Relief washed over her at seeing that he was whole and hale and knowing for certain that Lord Chopwell hadn’t injured him in some way. Seeing Reese again lifted her heart more than it had been in days. When he looked away, however, that bit of hope she had quickly evaporated into nothingness.
He didn’t care for her. She’d only been the means to an end for him, which she’d suspected from the beginning but now she was quite certain. If only—
“Darling!” Lord Plumstead gestured toward Reese. “There you are!”
Cara gulped as Reese started toward their group. When the Duke of Hythe squeezed her fingers on his arm, however, she found some comfort at the reminder that she was not alone.
Damn Plumstead straight to the devil. If his bloody brother-in-law hadn’t hailed him when he had, Reese could have slipped from Linthorpe’s drawing room without anyone noticing, anyone besides Cara that was. But Plumstead had called for him and so Reese found himself crossing the drawing room to join his brother-in-law, Cara Beckett and a small group of other peers, including the formidable Duke of Hythe.
“Sophia will be so upset that she didn’t make it this evening,” Plumstead said. “She has been quite impatient to see you.”
And Reese had been quite adamant to prevent such a meeting, but he wasn’t about to say as much in front of the assembled group. So instead he feigned a smile for his sister’s husband and said, “I do hope she’s well.”
“Oh, indeed,” Plumstead replied with a nod. “She’s at the theatre with Lady Fitzhugh and the St. Giles’. Remorse. You know how she loves Coleridge.”
Actually, Reese was unaware that his eldest sister loved Coleridge, but what was the point of saying so in public? “You shall have to send he
r my regards.”
Greencroft gestured to Cara and said, “Miss Beckett was just about to share her views on the salt trade.”
Reese met her gaze again and his heart twisted just like it had when he’d first entered Linthorpe’s drawing room. She looked well. Beautiful as always, with her pretty hair in a simple chignon, and a green gown that nearly matched her eyes. And part of her called to him, like she had from the beginning, he just hadn’t realized what that was until it was too late.
Thankfully, Cara’s wrist wasn’t wrapped any longer and there were no outward signs that she’d been hurt several days before, though now she wasn’t meeting his gaze which was a blaring reminder of how he’d hurt her even if those signs wouldn’t be visible to anyone else. Damn if it wasn’t painful to be so close to her. If he could just start over, redo everything since the first day he’d met her. “The Bermudians have a stronger claim to the Turks’ salt than the Bahamians do, in my opinion,” he said, his eyes steady on her.
Cara did look at him then, and he felt it deep in his soul.
“Do you know much on the subject?” Plumstead asked. “I hadn’t realized.”
Reese nodded. “The salt trade on the Turks didn’t exist until the Bermudians cultivated it, made it what it is today. The land in question has been available for common use for all English subjects until the Bahamians decided to wrestle complete control of it for themselves.”
Cara’s eyes rounded in surprise. Did she really not think he’d paid attention to anything she’d said? He could have listened to her talk about the most mundane of topics and he’d have found it fascinating simply because she cared so strongly. He admired her. Her conviction, her dedication, that determination of hers that he loved…
He did love her determination. And the truth of the matter was, he loved her. Reese wasn’t sure how or why, but he knew it in the pit of his stomach. He loved Cara Beckett even if she never wanted to see him again. And if the only thing he could do was help her win votes in parliament, then he’d do so with his dying breath.
“You seem quite knowledgeable on the subject, Lord Darling,” Cara said softly.
And he couldn’t help but smile at her. “I did have the most remarkable teacher, Miss Beckett.”
“Ah!” Linthorpe called to the room as the dinner bell chimed. “I suppose we should head into dinner.”
Reese glanced across the drawing room to find the Linthorpe, Lord Daniel and their aunt Lady Upwell all watching him carefully, like he was some actor on a stage. He snorted in response. He’d already ceded the loss of that wager. He wasn’t trying to win it now. He only wanted to win her, if that was even a possibility.
But the Duke and Duchess of Hythe began to lead Cara toward the threshold and Reese was certain his chance with her would be dashed if she left that drawing room without him.
“Miss Beckett!” he called after her, and Cara halted in her step.
She glanced back at him and asked, “Yes, Lord Darling?”
Reese started toward the trio and once he reached them he said, “Might I have just a moment of your time?”
Cara seemed to gulp a little uneasily, but then she steadied herself before assuring the duke and duchess that she would be fine.
Reese offered her his hand and was more than elated when she placed her fingers in his grasp. She directly met his gaze and the desire to hold her and kiss her and never let her go washed over him.
“Just for a moment,” she said.
As all of Linthorpe’s guests filtered into the corridor, Reese breathed a little easier. A moment later, it was just the two of them in the drawing room and Reese squeezed her fingers a little tighter.
“I’m so glad to see you’re well, Cara.”
She blinked up at him and vulnerability flashed in her mossy eyes. “I am so glad to see you are in once piece, Lord Darling.”
Lord Darling, not Reese any longer. That pricked his heart. “I owe you an apology,” he said softly.
But she shook her head. “You saved me that night. You don’t owe me anything.”
“No, I do.” He heaved a sigh, very aware that time was ticking by and someone was bound to check on them in a moment. “When I made that wager with Westham, it was foolish, the most foolish thing I’ve ever done.”
“It’s all—”
“It’s not all right,” he told her, afraid that if he released her hand, he’d never get another chance to touch her again. “The truth of the matter is, I would have never been at the Loxtons that night if I hadn’t made that wager. I would have never met you.” He did chance a grin at her. “And that would have been a tragedy, Cara. Spending time with you was like nothing else I’ve ever experienced. You’re clever and witty. You’re brave and bold. And by the time I realized I did care for you, that wager was already an albatross around my neck. I was trying to figure out how to disentangle myself from it when…”
“Chopwell,” she breathed out.
Reese agreed with a nod. “If you don’t want to have anything to do with me, I’ll understand. But…Well, I wanted you to know, it wasn’t a game for me, even if it started out that way. That first evening at the Loxtons’ you enchanted me and your enchantment has yet to wear off.”
Cara’s brow furrowed and she looked down at his cravat. “I should not have said those things to you that night.”
“You were right,” he said, wishing she’d meet his gaze again.
But she shook her head. “It wasn’t fair of me to say any of that, especially…”
When her words trailed off, Reese squeezed her fingers once more. “Especially…?” he urged.
Then she did meet his eyes once more. “You were playing a game with me, but I was playing one too,” she admitted. “I’m not even sure how I got talked into such nonsense, but I was. It certainly wasn’t fair for me to accuse you of something I was equally guilty of.”
Well, that didn’t make one bit of sense. “What game were you playing, Cara?”
Her cheeks pinkened out of embarrassment, but she didn’t look away. “The duchess made a wager of her own, that you would win yours against Lord Daniel.”
Was she serious?
“I shouldn’t have agreed to help her,” Cara continued. “But then I met you and—” she shrugged “—it ceased to be a game for me. It did start out that way, however, and I was hypocritical of accusing you of something I was guilty of myself.”
Had they really been playing each other? A bit of annoyance washed over Reese, but he shook the feeling away. She was right, it would be hypocritical of him to be angry at her over something he too had been guilty of. “It ceased being a game for you?”
Her blush deepened. “From almost the moment I met you, when you saved me from Lord Ellisfield’s tedium.”
“Ellisfield is a bore,” he agreed.
“I’ll understand if you don’t want to have anything to do with me.” She sighed. “Though I do still owe you a kiss, my lord.”
A kiss? Reese frowned at her.
“But if you don’t want to kiss me…” She began to step away from him, but Reese tightened his hold on her hand and drew her back toward him.
“Of course I want to kiss you,” he said, his eyes automatically dropping to her lips. “I, uh, just don’t remember you owing me one.”
Her pretty smile lit up the room. “That day at the fair, when you saved me from having to ride that ridiculous wheel contraption with Emma Atherton.”
Ah! How could he have forgotten? “I thought we saved each other that day.” Reese released his hold on her and framed her face with both of his hands. God in heaven, there had never been a lovelier girl in all the world.
“We both know that’s not true. I’ve nearly lost count of the number of times you’ve saved me.”
And he’d do so over and over again for the rest of his life, if she’d just have him. Reese brushed his fingers across the apple of her cheek and said, “I have to warn you, if I start to kiss you, I may never stop.”
> The prettiest smile lit her lips.
“And I may never want you to,” she returned before Reese dipped his head and pressed his lips against hers. For the first time in days, his world felt right and he was certain it would remain that way for the rest of his days.
From just outside the drawing room, Margaret and Harriet grinned at each other over what they’d just overheard. The two of them linked arms and then edged down the corridor, thrilled that their plan had been a success.
Harriet clapped her hands together once they were far enough away from being overheard. “That was brilliant!”
Brilliant was not the word Margaret would have used. They’d been more than lucky that everything had turned out like it should, not that she could have accounted for Chopwell in her original plan. No one ever planned for something like that.
“And now you’ll help me with Daniel, won’t you?” Harriet asked. “He needs to be settled, Margaret. You know he does. My sister would want him to find a nice girl and end his rakish ways, and—”
“We’ll figure something out for your nephew,” Margaret promised, though she had no idea what that something would be as she was quite certain Lord Daniel would be more difficult to manage than Cara and Darling had been, and that was saying something. “But let’s do wait until after Cara has met Darling at the altar.”
“Deal.”
DAY NINE
You may be surprised to learn that a certain darling lord will announce his betrothal this evening at a ball hosted by the formidable Duke of H. One can only wonder when the nuptials will take place and if the groom will be willing to wait for his bride’s sisters to travel across the Atlantic for the joyous occasion as all reports seem to indicate that he is quite determined for a rather quick wedding. Upon further thought, the lady in question should perhaps have wagered that she could land an earl in ten days or less.
~ Whispers from Lady X
Author’s Note