by Alyssa Drake
“It won’t.” Thomas’ hands slid around her waist, drawing her closer.
“That was a short visit.” Benjamin appeared in the stable doorway. Thomas jumped a foot away from Miss Clemens, his head whipping around.
“We were refused; there are armed guards patrolling the Shirely’s estate.” Thomas glared at Benjamin, who seemed delighted to have interrupted his private moment with Miss Clemens.
“Lord Westwood, Mr. Reid, I shall leave you to your conversation. Please excuse me.” She curtsied to both and turned, limping toward the house.
“Did you anger another female, Thomas?”
Thomas sighed, ignoring Benjamin’s teasing. “I have a predicament.”
“Only one?”
“Miss Randall asked me to marry her for protection.”
Benjamin’s eyes popped. “She asked you? How did you respond?”
“I told her I needed to discuss the matter with you.”
“And you want me to tell you what to do?”
Thomas’ gaze slid over the grounds, watching Miss Clemens as she crossed the courtyard. He shook his head slowly. Why had his mother chosen Miss Randall over Miss Clemens? What flaw was he missing? “I know who Mother prefers as a match.”
“Do you?” Benjamin arched an eyebrow and smirked. “You were outside last night.”
“I was.” Thomas folded his arms, spinning toward Benjamin. “I heard your betrayal as well”—Thomas shook his head, mock indignation on his face—“offering to help Mother. I thought you were on my side.”
Benjamin snorted. “I am on the side that feeds me. Was that not your very argument when you agreed to help Samantha with her inane plan to trap Morris?”
“Does that mean you have no advice to give?”
“They are two very different ladies, Thomas.”
“That is not helpful.” He grimaced.
“Close your eyes.”
“Why?”
“If you want my help, stop arguing and listen to your older brother.”
“By minutes,” grumbled Thomas, complying with Benjamin’s request.
“Imagine Morris standing in front of you with a pistol pointed at both Miss Clemens and Miss Randall. If he shoots them both, which death causes you the most pain?”
A slash ripped through Thomas’ chest. He opened his eyes, staring at Benjamin. “Miss Clemens.”
Chapter Twelve
Daphne hobbled toward the house, floating over the ground with a huge smile plastered across her face. Mr. Reid wanted to kiss her… and had. Her hand brushed over her lips which tingled with the memory of his mouth pressing against hers. She shivered.
“Where did you disappear to early this morning?” asked Miss Randall. She sat on the veranda, curled onto a bench, her feet swinging gently.
“I went for a walk,” replied Daphne as she climbed the steps leading to the veranda. Leaning against the railing, she swallowed a moan.
Miss Randall’s gaze dropped to Daphne’s swollen ankle. “How did you manage that feat?”
“Actually, it was quite painful.” Collapsing on the bench next to Miss Randall, Daphne rested her leg on the lower rung of the railing.
“How you seen Mr. Reid?” Miss Randall’s question held a note of forced brightness.
“He was with Lord Westwood in the stables when I last saw him.”
“That is wonderful news.” She clapped her hands together and turned to Daphne with gleaming eyes. “Mr. Reid is considering proposing to me.”
That was not quite the same story which Mr. Reid shared with her. However, Daphne could understand Miss Randall’s embarrassment at having to ask for protection. Her chest constricted Mr. Reid was an honorable man, willing to assist any woman. What answer would he give her?
“Here he comes.” Standing, Miss Randall brushed out imaginary wrinkles from her skirt.
Mr. Reid approached slowly, his gaze skipping over the veranda. His forehead wrinkled as he realized both Miss Randall and Daphne were present. A grim line pulled his mouth into a frown.
Misery rolled through Daphne. She knew; she could tell from the grimace on his face Mr. Reid was going to choose duty. Rising quickly, a small scream escaped Daphne’s lips. A sharp burst of pain ricocheted through her leg. She paled, grabbing onto the back of the bench.
Miss Randall spun toward her, reaching out to assist Daphne. Concern filled her violet eyes. “Are you alright?”
Daphne forced a smile. “My ankle is quite sore. I need to retire upstairs for a bit.”
“May I assist you?”
“No, remain here.” She squeezed Miss Randall’s hand, forcing her lips into—what she hoped resembled—a genuine smile. “I look forward to hearing of your engagement.”
Without waiting for a response, Daphne stumbled toward the door, ripping it open and tripping into the foyer. She wrenched her ankle. A curse word—perhaps the second one she had ever said in her entire life—exploded from her mouth.
“I had no idea you were familiar with such blasphemies.” Miss Hastings peeked her head out of the library.
Daphne shrieked, her scream echoing in the foyer. Cringing, she offered an apologetic smile and limped over to the library door. Lowering her voice, Miss Clemens whispered, “I did not think anyone was awake yet.”
“Nor did I.” Miss Hastings winked. “Please accept my apologies for startling you.”
“Is something wrong?” Daphne peered around Miss Hastings, drinking in the empty library.
“No.”
Daphne felt there was something hidden underneath her terse response.
Miss Hastings tilted her head. “Why are you awake at this hour?”
“I had a horseback riding lesson.”
“With your injury?”
“Mr. Reid said it would not interfere with the lesson.”
Miss Hastings nodded, moving aside, indicating the armchairs. “Did it?”
“The lesson was postponed.” Shuffling into the room, Daphne sank into the chair closest to the door.
“Why?” Narrowing her eyes, Miss Hastings dropped into the adjacent chair.
“Mr. Reid accompanied Miss Randall to the Shirely’s estate this morning to ascertain the welfare of Mr. Shirely. After which,”—Daphne leaned forward, cupping her hand around her mouth—“Miss Randall proposed marriage.”
“Even I know that behavior is improper.” Shock radiated through Miss Hastings’ face. “How did Mr. Reid respond?”
“He told Miss Randall he needed to discuss the matter with his brother.” Miss Randall’s gaze flicked to the library door. “He was speaking with her when I entered the house.”
“Why would Miss Randall propose marriage?”
Daphne sighed. “She asked him for protection.”
“From Franklin?” Miss Hastings leaned over, squeezing Daphne’s arm.
She nodded, tears gathering in her eyes. Blinking rapidly, Daphne pressed her fingertips to her eyes. “My ankle is quite painful. I apologize, but I need to lie down for a bit.”
“Certainly.” Miss Hastings smiled, pity flashed behind her eyes. “Would you like assistance walking to your room?”
“No, thank you for your kind offer.” Pushing up on the arms of the chair, Daphne rose and limped toward the door. When she reached the doorway, she spun around. “Please do not tell anyone what I divulged. It should be Miss Randall and Mr. Reid who make the announcement.”
“Of course, you have my word.”
“Thank you.” She choked on the words. Hobbling from the room, Daphne shuffled toward the staircase. Just as she placed her hand on the banister, the front door opened, and Miss Randall’s melodious voice poured into the foyer. With a squeak, Daphne raced up the stairs, her teeth digging so deeply in her lip, blood filled her mouth. When she reached the top of the staircase, Miss Randall entered the house, her laughter chasing Daphne down the hallway as she ran toward her room.
Slamming her door, Daphne stumbled toward her bed, tears falling in sheets, running d
own her face and dripping from her chin. Swiping her hand across her face, she sank onto the mattress, curling into a tiny ball, shuddering. She couldn’t stay here, not with both Miss Hastings and Miss Randall planning weddings. A shuddering cry escaped her lips. Was it possible to hear your heart shatter?
Her eyes flicked to the window. Did she dare attempt the descent a second time? Without Mr. Reid to catch her, she would have broken her leg last night, or worse. Was that risk worth escaping the confines of her bedchamber? Miss Randall’s laughter rolled down the hallway, slipping under the door.
Yes.
Pushing the window up, Daphne ducked under the pane, pulling her body through the small space. Flinging her arm out, she caught the trellis on her first try. She grinned, congratulating herself, “You are getting better at this, Daphne.”
She swung her body over, stuffing her foot into the lattice slats. Moving one hole at a time, Daphne slowly climbed down the trellis. Her ankle burned, threatening to give way. Gritting her teeth, Daphne forced her body to continue its downward trek.
“You cannot be serious!”
Daphne froze, pressing herself against the trellis. No! It was not possible. What was Mr. Asher Reid doing here, at this hour, standing beneath her… yet again?
“Why have I found you on that godforsaken trellis again?”
Daphne twisted her body, glancing down, she offered him a debonair smile. “Mr. Reid, what a pleasure to see you again. I thought you were not visiting us until this evening.”
“Which is why you are climbing down a trellis at nine in the morning?”
“No.” She inched down another step; ivy leaves broke under her foot, her boot slipping out of the hole.
Leaping forward, Mr. Reid held out his arms. “You can let go, I will catch you.”
“I would prefer one of my adventures did not end in my tumbling off something.”
“Would you accept jumping? I am concerned for your safety.” Mr. Reid gestured with his hands. “Let go.”
Did she trust him? Her eyes flicked from his earnest face to the gravel pathway beneath her. She inhaled slowly. “If you don’t catch me, I shall be extremely angry with you.”
He chuckled. “I agree to your terms.”
Nodding, Daphne squeezed her eyes shut. Pushing off the trellis, she fell backward, her jaw clenching as the wind rushed past her face. She was going too fast! Tensing, she waited for the hard jolt as her body crashed into the ground.
She slammed into Mr. Reid. He grunted, stumbling, his arms constricting tightly around Daphne, pulling her into his chest. A light scent of earth floated over her, accompanied by the subtle hint of lemons. Her eyes flew open. “You caught me!”
“You seem surprised.” Smiling, he set her carefully on her feet. “If you doubted my ability, why did you let go?”
Daphne shrugged, limping to a nearby bench and sitting. She tilted her head, staring at him. “You would not have volunteered if you doubted your own ability.”
“That is an odd premise for a decision.” He dropped beside her, removing his hat, setting it next to him on the bench. “You didn’t answer my question. Why were you climbing down the trellis? Is there something wrong with the staircase?”
Releasing a shuddering sigh, Daphne shook her head, lowering her gaze to the gravel. Mr. Reid leaned closer, his hand gently clasping hers. She glanced up at him, her mouth folded into a thin line, a betraying tear rolling down her cheek.
“What is wrong?” he asked, collecting the tear with his fingertip.
He was going to think she was the silliest, superficial creature alive. She was mooning over a broken heart while Miss Randall feared for her life.
“Miss Randall is engaged to your cousin,” Daphne blurted out, biting her lip immediately, another tear rolling down her face.
“Thomas? I never thought I’d live to see the day.” Mr. Reid chuckled to himself, falling silent after a moment. He reached out and very gently, laid her head upon his shoulder. When he spoke, his soothing voice wrapped around her. “I am deeply sorry. Thomas can be quite charismatic, it’s easy to fall under his spell.”
She sniffed, pressing her face into his collar. “You aren’t going to tease me?”
“Why would I tease you?”
“Because my problem is so minuscule compared to everyone else’s.”
“Matters of the heart are never minuscule.” He sighed, drawing Daphne’s chin upward until she stared into his eyes. “Do you know what killed my wife?”
Daphne nodded. “Cholera.”
“How I have missed this gossipy society.” He squeezed her hand. “How long have you known?”
“Since I the morning I met you.”
He arched an eyebrow. “I see tragic news travels quickly. To which of my relatives do I owe this breach of privacy?”
Daphne pursed her lips, shaking her head. “I cannot say.”
“Cannot or will not?” He waited, but Daphne didn’t respond. With a grin, he bumped his forehead against her. “If I guess the name, will you tell me then?”
“Possibly…”
“It was Thomas.”
“How did you know?”
“He is one of the worst gossips.” Mr. Reid’s laughter filled the garden. Wiping his eyes, he glanced down. “Whatever you may hear in society—and you will hear a lot about me—Isabella and I were quite happy far, far away from town.”
“I would be too,” murmured Daphne, thinking how wonderful it sounded never to see Miss Shirely again.
“When she fell ill, her family requested she be moved to their house. Against my wishes, she agreed… by the morning she was dead.” Mr. Reid stared unseeingly at the gazebo. “She was my world.”
“I’m sorry,” whispered Daphne, placing her free hand on top of his.
“I don’t blame them; they did what they thought was best for their daughter.” He blinked, clearing the memory, returning his gaze to Daphne. “I loved my wife very much. There is not a day that goes by, I don’t think of her. My point being, your heartache is something with which I can relate.”
“Thank you.” She closed her eyes, inhaling slowly.
“I suppose Aunt Abigail and Aunt Katherine have been meddling in your affairs?” He bumped Daphne with his shoulder.
Opening her eyes, Daphne grimaced, pulling her hand from his. “They have moved beyond meddling to scheming.”
“I thought all young ladies sought to be matched. Do you not want to be married?”
“I find their efforts to be exhausting.” Her eyes glanced at the gazebo, memories of the previous evening flooded her mind. She doubted either of them would approve of her attachment to Mr. Reid, considering he’d admitted to her last night they intended for Miss Randall to be his future happiness.
“I shall endeavor to do the same. However, I may need their help.”
“Why?” Daphne turned back toward him.
“I do not want Simon and Lucas—my sons—to grow up without a mother.”
“Is that why you have returned to society?”
“It is.” His mouth crooked into a half-smile, but the warmth did not reach his eyes. “My first foray into society was the engagement party last night.”
“Was your venture successful?”
“It was… unexpected. Society is not how I remembered. The entire experience was overwhelming.” He retook her hand. “Except for one extraordinary moment… when you fell out of the sky.”
“I am glad I could provide you with some amusement.” Daphne laughed.
“I came this morning to speak with Lord Westwood about something I have been considering. However, I think it is best if I discuss the matter with you instead.”
“I am flattered, but I am by no means an expert in anything.”
“In this case, you are.” He lifted her hand to his lips, placing a kiss on her knuckles. Scooting off the edge of the bench, he dropped to his knees. “I cannot promise love, but I can promise a good home, two mostly adorable children, and a
husband who will be faithful to his wedding vows.”
“Mr. Reid, are you proposing marriage?” Daphne’s jaw dropped.
“I am proposing a rescue of sorts. If you save me from the claws of society, I will save you from watching Miss Randall marry Thomas.”
Daphne opened her mouth to protest and stopped. Of all her options, Mr. Reid seemed the best choice. She could live far away from society, her mother, and the future Mrs. Thomas Reid. She chewed her lip. “May I consider your offer?”
“Of course.” He rose, sliding back onto the bench. “Is there any question I can answer that would make your decision easier?”
“I would like to meet your boys.”
“That is not a question, but, yes, I think that would be a prudent exercise. Would you like to meet them right now? We can join them for breakfast.”
“How will I walk there?” Daphne gestured at her ankle.
“I will carry you.”
“The entire way?”
“If that’s what it takes.” He stood, slipping his arms under her and lifting her from the bench. “There is one other matter that should be addressed.”
“Which is?”
“Whether we are compatible.”
“I do not understand.”
“I would like to kiss you.”
“Oh.” Daphne blushed.
“Have you ever been kissed before?”
The blush deepened. “Once. Last night.”
“By who…” Understanding flashed in his eyes. “Oh, I see.”
“Please do not say anything, Mr. Reid. I have not told one person.”
“I shall not say one word of your indiscretion.”
“My indiscretion.” Daphne giggled. “I have never been indecent before.”
“Yes, you have.”
“When?”
“When you fell into the river. Your clothing was… transparent. It was delightfully shocking.”
Daphne blushed bright red. How had she forgotten about the river incident? Two hours in a sheer dress! “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I rather enjoyed your outfit.” He grinned, his hand cupping her face, his thumb skating down her chin. “I owe you an apology for my abrupt departure yesterday. It had been a long time since I’ve felt a woman’s soft touch. I was overcome by the sensation.”