“They have been informed of your safety—and your injuries.” Darlington went on. And then he began pacing. “How on earth did you come to be in that trunk? And in your nightclothes? Were you attacked? Was it Farley? Or Trident? Don’t you remember anything? Or did you think such a wicked prank might be entertaining?”
But she did not know. She did not!
Seeing that he’d made her cry, he frowned. “I cannot fathom what you might have been doing out of doors in your night clothes. Have you nothing to say for yourself? Nothing at all?”
She would not have put herself inside of the trunk! Of course, she would not! And yet…
Darlington’s words teased her memory. She’d left her chamber to find something urgent…to look at something…And the trunk. In her mind’s eye, she could picture herself climbing into it, looking for something. But what? Why? “I was not attacked, Darly. I’m almost certain of it. I believe I chose to go outside on my own.” As she spoke, a fog seemed to settle on her. She attempted to see through it in order to discover the answers he wanted but…words stopped making sense as she listened to her own voice. There were little dark-haired boys running about…her dream. What had she dreamt and what was real? But Darlington wanted answers. He did not wish to hear about her dreams. “I’m sorry! I don’t know, Darly. I can’t think.” She cried out in frustration and then lifted her hand to her head when pain stabbed behind her eyes. “I feel as though I remember…and then…” More tears escaped. Nobody liked disappointing Darlington.
Her most reticent brother, then, looking uncomfortable, reached out and soothed her head. Although his hand felt cool on her skin, it did not impart the same comfort as Garrett’s had. Had she followed Garrett in some lame attempt to win his love? That would be mortifying! She would not have! Of course, she wouldn’t have done something so foolish…so needy!
She admitted to herself that she loved Garrett, and he was drawn to her, but he’d been crystal clear in the meadow. Under no circumstances did he wish to marry her. He’d left her no room for doubt. Was it just yesterday he’d offered her that dreadful proposal? Oh, yes, and the petite mort. Natalie pushed her brother’s hand away when the latter thought came into her mind.
Darlington shoved his hands into his pockets, obviously still unhappy with her answers. “Best not tire yourself, Nat. The doctor said it is important you are not fatigued.” He spoke grudgingly.
“I’m not.” Natalie licked her lips. “I’m thirsty.”
Her brother took this as an excuse to leave. “I’ll send for the maid.” He patted her hand once and then strode out the door. Natalie knew the maid would be here within moments. Few people failed to jump into action when Darlington issued orders.
Glancing around the room, she was reminded that she lay in Garrett’s bed. She, Lady Natalie Spencer, daughter of the Earl of Ravensdale, lay in Garrett Castleton’s bedchamber in the Dower House at Maple Hall. Garrett’s bedchamber! Oh, lord!
Again, confusion clouded her thoughts. The furnishings were shabby, but the chamber otherwise appeared neat and tidy. Embers in the hearth provided the only light within the room as the curtains were drawn. She tried to sit up, but doing so caused a new wave of nausea to sweep through her. Best to stay lying down. How could she feel so ghastly and yet so agitated at the same time? There is something…She would not have gone outside alone in her night clothes if it hadn’t been important. For heaven’s sake, she’d even donned one of her day dresses when she’d taken Baby Bear outside in the middle of the night to do his business. What had been so very urgent?
As she suspected, the maid rushed into the room breathlessly. “His Lordship said you needed assistance, my lady.” She looked harried and sleep-tousled. Good lord, leave it to Darlington to awaken the poor girl to fetch her a sip of water!
“My mouth feels like it’s full of sand.” Natalie attempted to make her need sound more urgent than it really was. She didn’t want the maid to feel as though she’d been awoken for no reason. “And perhaps some willow bark?” All she’d managed to do by worrying was provoke her headache. But something else bothered her dreadfully. She touched her hair self-consciously before asking, “Tomorrow, do you think you could do something about this mess?”
Chapter Twenty-Five
It was in his best interest to avoid her. She’d done something different with her hair, now, and appeared to be regaining her health quickly. Which was a good thing, a wonderful thing. But nothing taunted him more than the sight of Lady Natalie Spencer in his bed, dressed in only a thin cotton gown.
As her health improved, her cheerful spirits returned as well. She sang the praises of the young girl presently acting as her lady’s maid. It seemed she might have found a replacement for Mrs. Tinsdale after all.
During one visit, she confided to Garrett that she’d given the care of Baby Bear over to her old nurse. Before knowing her, he might have assumed she had merely grown tired of the pup and was shirking her responsibility. But he knew differently. She’d realized the elderly woman was lonely. No, it had not been an easy decision for her.
Lord Darlington’s company, on the other hand, was becoming something of a nuisance.
He continued to press for Garrett to obtain a special license. As each day passed, Darlington’s insistence that Garrett marry his sister increased. As did Garrett’s resolve. Only as the last possible option, he’d finally conceded one night, would he marry her. For otherwise, Natalie’s brother might have demanded a meeting at dawn. Natalie would hate them both if matters devolved to that.
It wasn’t that Garrett did not yearn with his entire being to make Natalie his. Of course, he wanted to marry her! If he were any other man, with any other father, living any other life.
Having her in his home was almost more than he could bear. He longed for the day she would leave but also dreaded it.
Garrett escaped the dower house as often as possible, focusing on the immediate needs of this broken-down estate he’d inherited. In his busyness, trudging from one tenant’s holding to another, he sought to regain equilibrium and clarity. But removing himself from her presence was easier than removing her from his thoughts. He often found himself wishing to tell her about this or that little incident but then stifled such notions before they took root.
And then there were the nights.
His memories of pleasuring her in the meadow the afternoon he’d left Raven’s Park plagued him with images and feelings he struggled to deny. Knowing she lay steps away mocked his unmet needs. His lust for her was almost as powerful as his feelings of tenderness and regard.
He loved her, dammit.
Which made it imperative he not act selfishly. When he’d thought her life in danger, he’d been devastated. Her safety, her well-being, and ultimately her happiness must be assured at all costs. Even if the price was to live his life without her.
She might think him cruel now, but she was young and unable to consider the ramifications of rash decisions. She believed herself in love with him. To such an innocent, he must seem exciting and unpredictable, the antithesis of her former betrothed.
She would believe it romantic to consider herself in love with a rake, a man of mystery to the ton. She’d sought him out for adventure—for passion. She’d been on the rebound, so to speak. Tossed over by her fiancé, certain of her needs had gone unfulfilled. She’d wanted to know what it felt like to succumb to desire. She’d sought it out unilaterally. He’d made the mistake of getting caught up in her acts of rebellion.
She’d also wanted, God preserve them all, to help him! She wanted to save him from himself. On the very day of his arrival, she’d taken steps to redeem him so he could return to society. She’d even found him a valet, for God’s sake. She’d taken to him as though he were a stray pup, much as she’d taken to Baby Bear. She wished to soothe his wounds and wash away his past with her love.
How long could such feelings last? How much pain and hurt could her pitying love endure?
For pain and
hurt would be her lot if she married him.
Her infatuation would not endure being tied to a husband who could not—would not—give her a child. An even worse scenario would be the birth of a child who was not of sound mind.
For he knew himself. Caught up in the throes of passion, he could easily release his seed too quickly. All it would take would be one time. God, what a mess that would be.
And what of her life in society? That would be over. As his wife, she would be painted with the same taint of scandal that had followed him throughout all England. For what woman in her right mind would knowingly marry a man with insanity in his blood? There would be no invitations to attend the various balls and parties she’d presided over throughout the previous two years. She would no longer be welcome in the drawing rooms of persons she considered to be her friends. They could not stroll through Hyde Park during the fashionable hour, for it would be too painful to feel the cut direct as face after face turned away from her. Garrett could not bear to see her scorned.
****
Five days into her recovery, both Lord and Lady Ravensdale arrived at Maple Hall. They arrived with outriders in full livery and a battalion of personal servants. The countess brought her lady’s maid, and Mr. Whipple attended the earl.
Garrett had known the party would be arriving and had just managed to set up lodgings for the entire entourage. The bedchamber beside Garrett’s, where Lady Natalie slept, had been cleaned, aired, and the bed fitted with new linen. Garrett hoped the couple would not have misgivings about sharing a bed. There simply wasn’t another available.
Wasting no time after alighting from their conveyance, the countess excused herself to check on her daughter.
Lord Ravensdale requested a private word with Garrett.
Ah, another inquisition. The screws were to be tightened even further. Garrett steeled himself.
The earl was forthright. “Darlington tells me you do not wish to marry my daughter, in defiance of the fact that you have compromised her.”
Good God! Must he rehearse this conversation again? Of course. And he must be most convincing of all today.
“It is not a matter of what I wish,” Garrett began. “There are other avenues that can and should be explored before forcing her into an unsuitable marriage.” Garrett spoke with conviction. “I am surprised you are not in full agreement with me. You, more than anyone, know that an alliance with the Earl of Hawthorne places your daughter in an altogether different public scorn. One which will never be forgiven.” Looking at the man directly, Garrett was forced to reveal he’d overheard the man’s words to his daughter just a short time ago. “You allowed my presence in your home as a concession to the assistance I’ve given you in business. You said you would not want a degenerate such as myself to be anywhere near your daughter.” Garrett looked down at his hands. “You were right in such an opinion.”
“Natalie told you this?” Ravensdale’s brows lowered into a stern frown. “I cannot believe my daughter would share this information with you.”
Garrett sighed. “She did not, my lord.” Looking up wearily, he confessed to eavesdropping. “I came to see you before I left Raven’s Park. The door to your study was open, and I overheard you scolding Natalie, Lady Natalie, that is, to keep away from me.” When the earl went to interrupt him, Garrett held up a hand and continued. “I did not then, nor do I now, find fault in your judgment. That is why I am surprised you persist with this notion of a betrothal. You could send her on holiday to the Continent. Hell, she could go to America. It would just have to be for a year or two. The ton will forget this. They are fickle about these matters, and you know it as well as I.”
The earl stared down at his boots. “I did not mean you to hear those words, my boy.”
“Nonetheless, they were words of wisdom.” And then Garrett felt the need to add, “It is not that I wouldn’t treasure your daughter as my countess, as my wife, but she would come out the worse for it.” He paused, swallowing the lump in his throat. “If your family decides marriage is the only thing to save her, you have my word I will meet her at the altar and give her my name. But first I insist you take her home, allow her a measure of peace before forcing her into a decision. Marriage is not to be entered into hastily. It is for life.”
The earl studied Garrett closely. “And if she insists on marriage, you will abide by her decision?”
She wouldn’t. He would not allow it. “I will. The doctor has said she may travel in a day or so. I apologize for the rudimentary accommodations here, but you and the countess are welcome to stay as long as you wish.” But take your daughter with you soon, please. He could only endure so much.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Natalie remembered almost everything leading to her arrival at Maple Hall. Everything that is, except for why she climbed into the trunk. She’d not been following Lord Hawthorne. She’d acted most inappropriately with Garrett, she admitted to herself, but she was not such a hoyden as to stow away in his trunk. Good heavens! She hoped not anyhow.
Her headaches had subsided to a dull annoying pinch now and then. The bouts of nausea were gone, and she could think more clearly.
And her new maid, Sissy, whom Natalie would never relinquish willingly, had proven quite capable at creating the latest styles in “her ladyship’s” hair. Sissy insisted the designs were fresh from Paris. A cousin of hers worked as lady’s maid to a very modern French lady, and she’d shared many of her secrets with Sissy.
Unfortunately, Natalie was still restricted to bed rest and forced to remain in nothing more colorful or inspiring than the housekeeper’s borrowed nightclothes. Her mother had brought day clothing for her to wear, but in the rush, Tinsdale had failed to pack any of her nightgowns. Nonetheless, she was grateful to Sissy for keeping her hair stylish and presentable. It lifted her spirits considerably.
As could a certain handsome gentleman visitor.
When he chose to grace her with his presence, that was.
She had been certain, upon reflecting on his treatment of her during the first few days following her injury, that he loved her. He’d been tender and sweet, treating her as though she were the most important person in the world. His voice had whispered soothing reassurances into her ear, and his hands had been gentle as they caressed her hair and face. And when she’d begun to show signs of mending, he’d ordered her not to overtax herself. He’d been quite protective, in fact.
But his demeanor had changed. As she recovered, his visits grew farther and farther apart.
Which disturbed her, to say the least. Especially in light of the fact that she loved him.
Yes, she’d remembered that. Fat lot of good it did her. The rest of the world only cared about saving her reputation.
Every person within her midst had voiced their opinion that the earl absolutely must marry her. She’d been carried away overnight, without her parents’ permission or knowledge, without a chaperone to the earl’s home. They must marry.
Darlington demanded it, most persistently.
Mrs. Hampden expected it, while clucking her tongue.
Sissy encouraged it, with a romantic sigh.
And even her mother would have it, quite matter-of-factly, at that! Everyone whose opinion could be heard was in accord upon the matter. Everybody, that is, except the prospective groom.
And of course, nobody thought to ask Natalie for her opinion. If anyone had bothered, they would have gotten an earful.
Because under no circumstances, ever again, would she allow herself to be forced into a marriage with a reluctant groom. Especially when she loved the idiot!
A knock on the door interrupted her frustrated musings.
Upon being given permission to enter, Garrett himself pushed it open. It was as though her aching heart had summoned him.
Despite looking tired, he’d dressed in form-fitting breeches, waistcoat, jacket, and an expertly tied cravat. Marcus would have dressed him for this occasion. Oh, her father must be forcing him to pro
pose to her now. He’d given in, the poor man. Ah, well, she’d put him out of his misery.
He looked fidgety, nervous. His hair was mussed, and his eyes more sunken than usual. None of this detracted from his looks, however. She still felt drawn to him. A physical pull exerted itself whenever he was near.
He, the addlepated male, seemed oblivious to her yearning.
“Sit down,” she invited. “I imagine you’ve been talking with Papa.”
Garrett nodded. “I have.” And then he sat on the side of her bed, well, his bed really. “You and I must talk.”
Not the most romantic choice of words with which to begin his proposal…
“You remember our last afternoon together at Raven’s Park—in the meadow?” At her blush, he rushed onward. “No, not that part—later, when we talked—when I told you why I could never marry and have a family.”
Natalie tilted her head, confused. “Yes.”
Appearing even more agitated, Garrett left the bed and strode to the window where the curtain had been pulled halfway open. “Well, it still stands.”
It took a moment for Natalie to absorb his blunt words. They were not at all what she expected. She could not see his face. It was in shadow. Not fair!
“Look at me,” she demanded. “What are you saying?”
Shoving his hands into his pockets, Garrett did not turn away from the window. “Your father and I have come to an agreement. Only as a last resort will you and I marry. There are other ways to ward off this scandal, and every one of them must be explored first. I do not wish to marry you.” He refused to look at her.
And then he did.
Behind his harsh words and feigned calm, sadness shadowed his eyes. His lips were tight and thin. He held himself rigidly.
“So”—Natalie needed to be certain she understood exactly what he was saying—“as the very last, the absolute last antidote to repair my reputation, you will then marry me—under duress—so to speak. Because…?” Natalie twirled her hands in the air as though summoning his reasoning. “This is all because of your father?”
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