Fortune's Wish (Fortunes of Fate Book 4)

by Eileen Richards

  He leaned down into Juliet’s face. “I don’t care how it looks.”

  “How about some music? There are several young ladies here who would be delighted to take your mind off—other matters.”

  Juliet wasn’t going to let this go. He glanced back at the piano and Victoria. Perhaps this was his chance. She couldn’t storm out of the room in company to avoid him.

  “Sir John, join us for a game of cards?” A lovely young woman came up beside him. She was young with shiny dark hair and luminous eyes. Miss Taylor, that was her name. She smiled up at him with a hopeful expression.

  “Thank you, Miss Taylor. I’m afraid I’m not in the mood for cards tonight. If you will excuse me.” His tone was probably harsher than she deserved, but he needed to take this opportunity to talk to Victoria. He crossed the room to the piano. She glanced up from her music and her eyes widened as he got closer. Her fingers paused on the piano.

  “If you come to intimidate me, Sir John, you are going to have to work very hard at it.”

  “I know better, Miss Penwith. You are incapable of being intimidated.”

  “Should I be insulted?”

  “By no means did I mean it as an insult.” He moved around the piano to stand at her right. “Why are you here in the corner instead of playing cards?”

  “I’m not in the mood to play cards and Mrs. Matthews’ pianoforte is a beautiful instrument. Why aren’t you sitting at one of the tables enjoying cards and conversation with the various young ladies in the room?”

  “I’d rather annoy you.”

  She laughed and he felt something tighten somewhere in the vicinity of his heart. “You should laugh more often.”

  “So, should you, sir.” She shuffled through the music and selected another piece. She’d set it on the piano and lifted slim fingers over the keys to begin.

  “Victoria, about the wager…” The words tumbled out of his mouth like dice from his hand. God, this was harder than he thought.

  Her deep blue eyes met his and she lifted her hands from the piano. “Are you trying to get me to forgive the wager so you don’t have to muck out the horse stalls? If so, you are sadly mistaken.”

  “I do not renege on a bet. I simply wanted to inquire what would be a good day for me to take care of the matter.”

  “Tomorrow would be convenient. I’d like to get the matter over with.”

  “Did you really expect that I would renege on the wager?”

  “The thought did cross my mind.”

  He ran his hand through his hair. “If you were a man I’d have to call you out for that comment.”

  “You could still do so, but I should warn you that I’m very good with a dueling pistol.”

  Good God, this woman.

  “Do you make it a habit to insult all the men you know or just the bothersome ones.”

  “Just the bothersome ones.” She glanced up and flashed him a smile “You get an extra dose.”

  She was flirting with him. He almost stumbled back from the piano in shock. He leaned down to her until his breath stirred the dark strands of hair at the base of her neck. “I rather like being bothersome to you.”

  Her fingers crashed on the keys creating an awful sound.

  “Shall I find an easier piece, Miss Penwith?” He couldn’t keep the laughter from his voice or the surge of excitement at her response to him.

  “Quiet.”

  He chuckled as he shuffled through the music for a particular piece. He leaned down again. “Perhaps if you’d let other ladies show their talents, we might dance together. I’ve found a waltz.”

  Her fingers paused on the keys then continued. She focused extra hard on the music as her lips tightened. “I have no desire to dance with you or anyone else, Sir John.”

  “Pity. I find the idea of a waltz with you quite stimulating.”

  Color rushed her cheeks. “There are other ladies here to stimulate your need for a waltz.”

  John glanced away from Miss Penwith and found Miss Taylor approaching the piano.

  “Miss Penwith, play a waltz, please. We are longing for a dance.”

  “Miss, Taylor, I’d be happy to, if there are enough couples to dance,” Victoria said. Her words came out in a rush of relief. “I believe Sir John was just expressing a need for a waltz.”

  Damn her. She always found a way to wiggle out of his grasp.

  “Sir John will you dance? Since you don’t prefer cards,” Miss Taylor said softly.

  He couldn’t say no, so he nodded his head. Miss Taylor flashed him a dazzling smile.

  “I’ll gather some couples,” she said, then rushed away to do just that.

  He glanced down at Victoria as she sorted through sheet music. “We need to finish our discussion.”

  “Honestly, Sir John, you can have nothing to say that I wish to hear.”

  And so, the moment was gone. He couldn’t hide his disappointment. “One day Miss Penwith we will need to discuss your hot and cold treatment of me. Perhaps tomorrow when I come to muck the stalls?”

  “Our stablemaster knows you are coming. He’ll direct you to the stalls you need to muck.”

  “Will you not be there?”

  She shook her head as she arranged the music on the piano. “I’m afraid I’ll be too busy in the morning.”

  She began to play through the waltz that he’d selected, dismissing him. Talking to her was like talking to a brick wall. Yet he couldn’t give up.

  He crossed the room to bow and take the hand of Miss Taylor. Chairs had been moved out of the way to make room for dancing and Victoria filled the room with lively music. He placed his hand on Miss Taylor’s waist and lead her in the waltz. He should have been satisfied. Miss Taylor was pretty. She was lively and young. Yet his eyes were drawn to the woman at the piano. She was a puzzle and he needed to know the answer. He could never resist a good puzzle.

  Chapter 5

  The night air was cool, with a slight breeze stirring the woods around her. Victoria sat at the top of the Fairy Steps and stared out at the village as the night descended like a curtain over a window. The moon painted the weathered stones in a silvery light. It was quiet, save for the insects and the occasional call of an owl somewhere in the distance.

  It was late. Too late for a woman to be alone in the woods at night, yet here she was seeking something that was becoming all the more elusive — peace.

  Peace was in short supply these days. With Father’s nagging pursuit of the Jockey Club, the pressure for Tychee to win every race, and Sir John’s constant presence, Victoria was desperate to hide from the world.

  Tonight had been a prime example. Father had seen the attention Sir John had paid and had encouraged it.

  “Get him to approve of my membership in the Jockey Club, Vickie, and we’ll be set for life. He clearly likes you.”

  And there was the rub of salt in an old wound.

  Sir John clearly liked her. She liked him. He made her laugh. He teased her. He clearly had figured out how to pry her out of the tough shell she surrounded herself in. She’d known men like him before. Charming. Handsome. Flirtatious. Men who never delivered on their promises.

  She would not be lured into that trap ever again. It just hurt too much.

  The wind increased, and she pulled her old woolen shawl tighter around her shoulders, then tucked her knees under her chin. She wished Father had his membership so she could go back to just dealing with the horses. Tychee’s success was opening up questions about her breeding methods and the types of breeds she used to create a horse like Tychee. Father hadn’t been pleased when she had told him that it was dumb luck to get a horse like this—one calm but fast with a level of endurance they rarely saw.

  He’d been quite angry to find she couldn’t duplicate her work. The presence of Mr. Connells and Sir John were making Father nervous. If she couldn’t breed another Tychee, Father’s plans were all for naught.

  “What are you doing out here alone?”

  Go
d and his cursed tendency to throw the one thing she did not need in her life right now — a single man. This single man, Sir John Townsend.

  She glanced up at the man in question, who bowed prettily as he stood over her. She refused to stand. She was comfortable, damn it. This was her spot. Her secret place. Her personal time.

  “Not speaking to me?”

  “I had thought that by not speaking, you’d get the message that I’d prefer to be alone.”

  “I’ve never been one to pick up on hints.” Sir John sat beside her on the edge of the Fairy Steps. The bit of smooth rock wasn’t very big so his thigh pressed against hers.

  “That seems to be a common trait among your sex.” She unfolded her knees and made more room for him, but it didn’t help. He was still so close she could feel the warmth of him.

  Sir John chuckled. “You are probably correct, Miss Penwith. Men are simple creatures.”

  She nodded but said nothing. She didn’t want to encourage discussion, especially with this man who had her at sixes and sevens most moments.

  “As a gentleman, I cannot leave you out here in the wilderness alone.”

  She glared at him. “You are no gentleman.”

  “You are determined to insult my honor, Miss Penwith.”

  “Are you going to call me out again? Is your honor so fragile?”

  “A gentleman’s reputation is built upon his honor. If there is no honor, there is anarchy.”

  Victoria snorted. “You seriously believe this nonsense? Women are honorable, yet we have no recourse when our own honor is called into question.”

  “Who has called your honor into question? I demand to know.”

  “Why, so you can shoot him? Thank you, but no. If there is any shooting going on, it will be me who pulls the trigger.”

  “Are you as good a shot as a man?”

  “Better, actually.”

  “We might need to put that to the test.”

  “You may not survive the dent in your honor, Sir John. Are you prepared for that calamity?”

  “I think my honor could survive being bested by you, Miss Penwith. It has thus far.”

  Silence settled around them like a warm cloak. It should have been awkward, but it wasn’t which caused Victoria to fret even more. Why did this man stir these stupid feelings inside her? She’d been down this road and it only ended in heart ache.

  “Why did you not dance with me, tonight?”

  “I didn’t care to dance.”

  “You play beautifully, by the way. You have a way with music, almost as talented as your way with horses.”

  “Thank you.” She looked at him. Really looked at him as he studied the village in the distance. Dark hair, strong jaw, and a rather hawkish nose. He wasn’t one of those men considered pretty, but he was handsome. “Do you plan to approve my father’s membership in the Jockey Club?”

  “Mr. Connells will be the one who approves your father’s membership. He is only consulting me in this matter. He asked me a similar question tonight. He’s anxious to return home.”

  “Beetham is rather boring for a man of the world. I am rather surprised you are still here.”

  Sir John turned his head and met her gaze. Heat, longing and something else flashed across his face. “I’ve yet to obtain what I came for.”

  The deep rumble of his voice caused a shiver to course through her body. She didn’t dare ask what he meant. She wasn’t sure she’d know what to do with the answer. Frankly, the answer terrified her. “Perhaps you should give up?”

  His smile was resigned. “Perhaps, but not yet.”

  He picked up a stone and tossed it down the steps. The sound echoed into the night. “Why didn’t you dance tonight?”

  They were back to that again. “I didn’t care too.”

  “Or perhaps you don’t know how?”

  Her face flushed. “Is this a dig at my lack of education?”

  “Hell no. I find no fault in your education, what I know of it. I simply wanted to know why one who loves music so much as you did not dance.”

  “Father never hired a dancing teacher and I was too involved with the horses to bother to learn from friends. I’ve never been able to master the steps.”

  “Miss Penwith has a flaw.”

  She rolled her eyes at the teasing note in his voice. “Everyone has flaws, sir.”

  “I agree. I have more than my share as you are well aware, but this flaw is easily remedied.”

  She turned her head and looked at him.

  “I could teach you to waltz. It’s easy enough.”

  She laughed. “Why would you?”

  He bumped her shoulder with his. “So, the next time I ask you to dance, you’ll say yes.”

  She pressed her lips together as he stood and offered her his hand.

  “What? Now?”

  “Why not? No one is here to see you stomp on my toes.”

  “There’s no music.”

  “To learn the steps, you don’t need the music.” He wiggled his hand. “Come on, Miss Penwith, try it. You might like it”

  “Fine.” She placed her hand in his and allowed him to pull her up. Her foot slipped on the edge of the stone and he caught her around the waist.

  “Careful.”

  His hand was warm through the wool of her gown. He tightened his hold as he urged her away from the edge of the stone. “Don’t want you to fall.”

  Victoria had a feeling it was a bit late for that. This Sir John was sweet and charming and as irresistible as chocolate. She believed that Madame Zeta had predicted that Sir John would be the new man in her life. Victoria just couldn’t trust him. Yet.

  He stopped a few feet from the steps and stood before her. “The waltz is done with a count of three. Just follow my lead. Place your hand in mine.”

  Victoria placed her hand in his and his fingers closed over hers. His hand was rough from work and strong. John placed his other hand on her back by her waist. He pulled her close, but not close enough for their bodies to touch.

  “Place your other hand on my shoulder?”

  “Should we be this close?”

  “I prefer a bit closer, depending on my partner.”

  “Scandalous!”

  He chuckled softly, his breath stirring the loose hairs around her face.

  “What now?”

  “When I step forward, you step back. That’s one. Then we step to the side. That’s two. Finally, I step back and you step forward. I’ll start with my left foot and your right. Ready?”

  “I can do this. Maybe.”

  “Let’s take it slow.”

  Sir John stepped forward and she automatically stepped back. She watched his feet and followed, stepping sideways with him, then stepping forward when he stepped back.

  “That’s good. Now let’s try again and this time keep going.”

  Victoria nodded. Then Sir John stepped forward and she wasn’t ready and stepped into him and right onto his foot.

  He stopped with a grimace.

  “Sorry.”

  “Perhaps, we should be closer,” he whispered into her hair.

  He pulled her so close that her breasts brushed his chest. His hand fell to her waist and curved around her back so they were almost embracing. He smelled of bay and starch, one of her favorite smells.

  “Is it necessary to be this close?” She couldn’t keep the slight tremor from her voice.

  “It will make it easier to pick up the steps and safer for my feet. Shall we begin again.”

  “I can’t see my feet.”

  “You don’t need to see your feet. Just follow me.”

  He began again and stepped into her and she automatically stepped back. He led her through the steps several times, then whirled her around. He whispered the count as he moved her through the steps. Soon she felt like she was flying as he guided her around the small section of flat stone, her skirts floating around their legs as they moved as one.

  As he slowed the dance she rais
ed her eyes to meet his. In the moonlight, his eyes were dark and warm.

  “That was fun,” she whispered.

  “You dance well.”

  “I think that the opposite is true, Sir John.”

  “John. I’d like you to call me by my given name.”

  “I don’t—”

  He released her hand and lay a finger on her mouth. “Please, and I hope you’ll let me call you Victoria.”

  Suddenly, the intimacy of the moment frightened her. This man was dangerous in a way no other man was. She dropped her hand from his shoulder and put a bit more space between them. “I had better go home. It’s very late.”

  “I will see you home.”

  “That’s really not necessary.”

  “Miss Penwith, it is indeed necessary. I have my horse nearby.”

  “It’s Beetham. I have lived here all my life. What could happen?”

  “What sort of man would I be if I let a single young lady walk home alone at night?”

  She chuckled. “I’ve done it many, many times, sir.”

  “It’s a good thing you are lovely because you are the most infuriating woman, sometimes, Victoria Penwith.”

  “I’m glad you recognize my finer points, sir.” She held out her hand. “Since I know I will lose this argument, please see me home, kind sir.”

  He pressed his lips to her hand and she fought the urge to squirm. “It would be my pleasure, Miss Penwith.”

  “Victoria.”

  The smile he flashed her was boyish and happy. “Lovely Victoria.”

  Somewhere in the distance an owl hooted. Victoria shivered in the cooling air. It was late.

  He led her down the side of the hill to where his horse was waiting. He lifted her into the saddle then mounted behind her. Her skirts rose, revealing her ankles as she sat astride. John’s arms came around her to grab the reins and he lightly nudged the horse into motion. The slow gait of the horse, the late hour, and the warmth of John’s chest behind her, lulled her into relaxing against him. She was sleepy now.

  “I’ll be at Rosethorne early tomorrow to muck out the stalls.” John’s voice rumbled softly into her ear where she’d tucked her head against his shoulder.

  “I think it’s today.”

  “You are probably right. Please say you’ll be there, Victoria.”