Promised

by Leah Garriott

  His tone, so earnest, stopped my immediate refusal.

  “Excuse me, my lord,” one of the servants interrupted. “This just arrived.” He held out a letter.

  Lord Williams took it. “Thank you.” He read the inscription. “Pardon me, Miss Brinton, but—

  “Not at all. Do not delay reading your letter on my account.”

  “Thank you.” He moved a step away and broke the seal. A smaller folded paper slipped from the letter. Lord Williams caught it and frowned as he read whatever was scribbled on its front before turning his attention to the main letter’s content.

  I glanced around the room. Daniel and James chuckled at something while Catherine stood mutely next to them, her focus set on Lord Williams, no doubt as curious about the contents of the letter as I was. Or perhaps she was curious about the man as well. Alice had returned to her seat near our mother, who narrowed her eyes at me and nodded at the music. Pretending not to notice how she wished me to play another song, I turned back to the music and feigned interest in it.

  Lord Williams balled the letter in his hand, his jaw muscle popping.

  It was such an astonishing display of discomposure I stepped toward him. “I hope you have not received something upsetting.”

  “It is from my cousin.”

  “Mr. Northam?”

  Lord Williams’s eyes narrowed and I realized I’d allowed too much interest to show in my voice. “I thought he didn’t know you were here.”

  “I didn’t know he knew. Someone must have told him.” He eyed me as though I was that person.

  I looked to Daniel. Had he actually come through for me?

  “There is a note here for you, as well.”

  Mr. Northam had written to me?

  Lord Williams handed me the folded paper with my name scrawled across its front. I unfolded it, turning slightly to block the writing from his view.

  My dear, I curse my folly that I did not secure you when I had the opportunity. Only tell me that I am still wanted and I am yours. ~F. Northam.

  I stared at the words. He regretted his silence. He was still mine.

  I could still succeed.

  Lord Williams stepped closer and lowered his voice. “What does it say?”

  I quickly folded the paper and looked up, trying to pretend the note hadn’t meant anything. “It is a trifle, that is all.”

  “My cousin never trifles in matters of import,” Lord Williams said.

  Was he saying I was a matter of import?

  He stood so close it was difficult to think.

  “You still wish to marry him instead of me?”

  I shook my head. Then I nodded. Then frowned. “It’s why you are here, is it not? To make a union between me and your cousin impossible?”

  “That is not the only reason,” he said.

  “Well, whatever the other reason, I’m certain it has nothing to do with me. You’ve proved you don’t care about my wishes at all.” Except that wasn’t true. He hadn’t told the others about the lake.

  So he did care?

  I searched his face, trying to discern what I saw in his steady gaze before I remembered—it didn’t matter if he cared. It was worse if he cared. Because I could never care.

  “Margaret,” Daniel called. “If you’re not going to play anymore, let’s set up the cards.”

  Lord Williams didn’t move. “My cousin is not to be trusted.”

  I tilted my head. “And you are?” There was too much vulnerability in my voice for it to be the quip I’d meant it to be.

  His brow furrowed, but he hesitated a moment too long.

  “I believe Daniel is anxious for your company.” I turned and pretended interest in the music.

  His hand touched my back as he leaned near my ear. “Your performance at the Hickmores’ was flawless.” Then the warmth of his breath and the gentleness of his touch were gone.

  Nineteen

  Lord Williams was absent when I joined my family in the parlor the next morning. The clock testified he still had a few minutes before breakfast. I glanced at the door.

  “Missing your love already?” Daniel smirked.

  I forced my features into a calm, untroubled appearance. “Not at all, I assure you.”

  “Well, you needn’t worry. He was out early and will be delayed only a few minutes.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I cannot tell you how comforting that is.”

  “Do you really not like the baron, Margaret?” Alice asked.

  After yesterday, I no longer knew how to answer that question. “Can we please speak of something else?” I glanced at my mother for help, but she was engrossed in a letter. On pink paper. There was only one person who ever wrote us on pink paper. “How is Mrs. Hickmore, Mother?”

  She waved a hand, instructing me to be quiet, and turned the page over to continue reading. I hadn’t realized my mother found Mrs. Hickmore’s letters so interesting. I directed my gaze outside. The trees sat still and the sky was bright and clear except for a few clouds in the distance.

  “Margaret, what is the meaning of this?” my mother demanded a second later.

  I frowned in confusion. “Of what?”

  She read from the page. “I have every reason to expect a union between your daughter and the man in question; only time will tell if it is to be a happy one. Perhaps, in Margaret’s case, it will be, for though I would normally advise any mother to keep her daughter far away from Mr. Northam, I think this union is exactly what she is looking for. For my part, I wish it weren’t.”

  I stared at her. “You wrote Mrs. Hickmore about Mr. Northam?”

  My father lowered his paper. “Eloise, I specifically forbade you from—”

  “Did you really expect me not to, Colin? Our daughter deserves to be happy. Or am I the only one who feels that way?” She returned her attention to me. “Mr. Northam does not appear to be the kind of man who would bring about such happiness, though, does he?”

  “He isn’t,” Daniel interrupted. “Mr. Northam is a rake of the worst kind.”

  “And what do you know of it, Daniel?” I asked dismissively, trying to ignore the pool of foreboding forming in my stomach.

  His eyes narrowed. “I know enough. I caught him, Margaret, the first night we were there, creeping out of the house with a girl too young to know better.”

  My face heated, but I shrugged. “Every woman at that party knew better. Besides, what do I care what he does when he isn’t with me?”

  My mother gasped. “Margaret, you cannot be serious.”

  “Why not? All it means is that he is like every other man of our acquaintance. Unlike Edward, though, Mr. Northam doesn’t pretend to be someone else. So at least with him I know what I am getting.”

  “Margaret,” my father chastised.

  I glanced at him. “Should I not say such things, even though they are true?” I turned to my mother. “It doesn’t matter anyway, since it makes no difference how I feel. Everything has already been ruined.”

  “Unless you content yourself with Lord Williams,” Daniel said. “He is obviously determined to have you. And he is nothing like Edward.”

  “He is exactly like Edward—pleasing and gentlemanly when he wants to be, yet ruining people’s lives without a second thought when he deems it fitting.” My voice was louder than I’d meant and I took a deep breath to calm down.

  Daniel rolled his eyes. “Oh, come, Margaret. If you had met Lord Williams before the misunderstanding with Edward, you would be madly in love by now.”

  “That’s enough, both of you,” my father interrupted. “This is not a conversation to have in the parlor.” He glanced at Alice, who was standing behind my mother, her eyes wide.

  My chest heaved with the injustice of my situation. But I shouldn’t have spoken so in front of Alice. “I apologize,” I sai
d to her.

  My father nodded. “I think we have waited long enough for our guest. Margaret?” He gestured toward the breakfast table.

  I shook my head. “No, thank you. I find I’ve lost my appetite.” I strode out of the breakfast room and out of the house.

  A trail of decimated leaves followed me around the lake. When I reached the boulder that Daniel had fallen off the morning after returning from the Hickmores’, I climbed onto it. The clouds in the distant sky had gathered, promising an impending storm, but for now only a slight breeze blew, pulling strands of my hair loose while its caress played along my skin. I scooted to the edge of the rock and leaned over.

  The lake’s surface rippled and waved, but I searched it anyway. Faint traces of myself—a flash of skin, a hint of an eye, the trail of a curl—flickered into view. But mostly only the blues and greens of the ruffled water reflected back. I stretched down and dipped my finger into the lake, stirring it to produce my own wake, but my ripples were almost instantly consumed by the ones generated by the wind.

  Daniel’s words ran through my mind even as I struggled to force them out. I couldn’t deny that Lord Williams, as he acted here, amongst my family, was someone to be admired. Mostly. He was still arrogant and unyielding. But he was also gentle and attentive. Under duress, his behavior betrayed a kind and patient man. He even displayed moments of humor and wit, and his unyielding manner meant he didn’t back down from an argument.

  He’d insisted I call him by his first name. That wasn’t something the man from the Hickmores’ would have done.

  The truth was, if we had met before Edward, I quite possibly might have been in love.

  In love with Gregory.

  How easy it was to think of him by that name.

  I yanked my hand out of the water. It did not matter how Gregory or Lord Williams or that man made my pool of buried dreams spill across the dam I had erected to keep them contained. I was not going to be deceived again. Mr. Northam was the man for me.

  “See, my lord? I told you we would find her here.”

  I spun around. Lord Williams and Alice walked toward me, Alice with a grin of triumph on her face, Lord Williams with a frown set with determination.

  “I knew you’d be here, Margaret,” Alice repeated.

  I glanced down to make sure my dress covered my ankles before sliding off the stone, trying to appear relaxed and unaffected by their sudden appearance. “Yes, I came out to . . . I needed a walk.”

  “It’s going to storm,” Lord Williams said, indicating the clouds still some distance away.

  I shrugged. “The rain will do us all a bit of good.”

  “We should not be caught outside in it.”

  I didn’t blame him for not wanting to ruin any more clothes. “It is still a ways off. But if you are worried, you needn’t remain.”

  “Perhaps it will only be a light rain and we can play in it,” Alice chimed in.

  “Yes, perhaps,” I replied. “Though from the looks of it, we should plan for something heavier.”

  Lord Williams nodded in agreement.

  “Alice, shouldn’t you be at your studies?” The hours after breakfast were usually devoted to her education.

  She smiled shyly. “I came to show Lord Williams where you were. Mama said it was all right.”

  “I wager she made you promise to return right away, though, didn’t she?”

  Alice frowned. “Yes, she did. But we were only studying history, and I know it all so well already. I would much rather be out here with you.”

  Lord Williams smiled. “Ah, you already know the whole of history? You must be quite brilliant.”

  “Well, I don’t know all of it,” Alice admitted.

  “Why don’t we return together?” I pushed off the rock and stepped toward Alice.

  “Actually, Miss Brinton, I would like a word with you. In private,” Lord Williams said.

  Did this have to do with the letter? “Alice, tell Mother we will be along directly.”

  Alice glanced between us, something akin to eagerness lighting her eyes, and nodded. “All right.”

  As she retreated up the path, I frowned. She had never been so easily persuaded to return to her studies, especially history. What was she about?

  “Miss Brinton.”

  I turned my attention to Lord Williams.

  “Last night, when I mentioned Edward Rosthorn, I had not realized his connection to you and your family. I assumed you were acquainted, given your close friendship with Miss Rosthorn, but I was not aware that you and he had formed an attachment. I must apologize.”

  My eyes widened in surprise. “My lord—”

  His sigh interrupted me. “Please call me Gregory.”

  Gregory. I shook my head in refusal. “Mr. Rosthorn and I were raised practically as brother and sister. You have nothing to apologize for.”

  He stepped closer. “There is no need for pretense. I know of your former engagement to him.”

  Suddenly light-headed, I leaned against the boulder for balance. Why was he bringing this up now? “I’m sorry, my lord, but I assure you—”

  “Your sister told me everything,” he insisted, his voice cutting through mine.

  I frowned. “I do not know what Alice told you, but you should not give credit to all her words. She was a child—only eight years of age at the time. Events are sure to have been distorted through misunderstanding.”

  “Are you telling me that you were not engaged to Mr. Rosthorn?”

  There was no way around such a direct question. “No. It is true. I was engaged to him.”

  “And he broke it off?”

  “No. I did.”

  “Why?” He was determined to know. It showed in his eyes, in the firm set of his jaw.

  I realized that the truth I was about to share was probably the surest way of guaranteeing Lord Williams’s retreat. I should have told him everything that first day.

  He would judge me. People always did.

  I squared my shoulders. Let him judge me. “He had a mistress—or perhaps a stream of them. His father wouldn’t allow him access to the estate funds until he’d married and settled down. As I told you that first night, I have something of a dowry attached to me. Marriage to me was an easy way for him to gain access both to his father’s funds and to a little extra on the side—my dowry is enough that it would have allowed him to keep his mistress, or mistresses, without much difficulty.”

  “Then how is it he came to marry Lady Swenson?”

  I shrugged. “No doubt he tricked her into falling in love with him.” The same as he had me.

  The lake reflected the darkening clouds, the water almost as black as my days had been after Edward.

  “Did you love him?” The anger in Lord Williams’s voice confused me, forcing me to return my gaze to him. His brows were creased with deep lines, matching the frown of his mouth.

  It was an intimate question, one he had no right asking. “This is not a conversation to be having given the brevity with which—”

  “No need. I understand. You loved him. He broke your heart. You thought to protect yourself with a marriage of convenience.” He shook his head. “You left one vital part out of the equation.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “What is that?”

  “You.” He stepped closer. “You have intelligence, beauty, a certain disregard for modern sensibilities—any man of sense would be won over by such a woman eventually.”

  I stared into his eyes, light against the shadowed sky. “This is why you came? To be won over?”

  “No. I came to keep Northam from getting to you. He would have destroyed you.”

  I lifted one side of my mouth in an attempt at a smile. “One cannot destroy what is already broken.”

  “You’re not broken. You are a woman of passion and belief
, not afraid to fight for what you want.” Gregory—there was no other way to think of him with that look in his eye—stepped closer still, too close for propriety. I put a hand on his chest to keep him from moving closer, but my fingers curled around the flap of his coat instead.

  “The problem is,” Gregory said quietly, “you want the wrong thing.”

  “What should I want?”

  His gaze bore into mine. “Me. I would never hurt you as he did.”

  I longed for the promise in his voice to be real, for the meaning of his words to be true. I scrambled to find an objection to his reasoning. “This isn’t right. You shouldn’t be engaged to save me from the very thing I desire. You should be free to marry whomever you wish, as should I.”

  Gregory brought his hand to my face and his thumb brushed my cheek, leaving a warm trail in its wake. “I am marrying who I wish.”

  For a moment, the determination in his eyes made me forget. Both the impending storm in the sky and the storm raging inside me disappeared. There was no cold, no wind, no time. I had no need to even breathe. All I needed was to feel this, to feel wanted, to feel secure. I relished the gentleness of his touch, the promise of protection in his expression.

  But even as my heart cried out with longing, my mind screamed a warning. I was not safe with him. I would never be safe with him; he had confessed that very thing the first night we met. He wanted love, romance. He believed he could make a woman love him simply through sheer willpower.

  And he had shown I was susceptible. Gregory was exactly the sort of man I needed to avoid.

  My hand flattened against his chest, becoming the barrier it was supposed to have been from the first. “But I do not wish to marry you. And continuing to insist on this marriage makes you exactly like him.”

  Gregory’s thumb stilled. His gaze fell to my lips, and my traitorous heart began pounding. Then he stepped back and dropped his hand.

  The first drops of rain splattered on our heads and faces. It wasn’t the warm rain Alice had hoped for. The drops were cold and harsh, pounding against our skin and onto the surface of the lake where ever larger ripples marched outward until there were so many circles the whole surface was at war. A cold wind blew through the trees, and not even Gregory’s proximity held off the shiver that coursed through me.