The Dangers of Doing Good (Arrangements, Book 4)

by Rebecca Connolly

  “Leave?” Her voice broke and her hands shook beneath his.

  He tightened his hold. “I know you don’t know me. But I swear to you, on my sister’s life, I will never do you harm. I will protect you as fiercely as I would her. I can help you, Annie. You can have a different life.”

  She stilled and stared at him for what seemed like hours. He held his breath and waited.

  “You don’t want to get involved,” she finally said, shaking her head and wincing. “I’m not worth it. It’s too…”

  “I already am involved,” he interrupted gently, “and nothing is worth more right now than you. Than this. I hate that I could not help you yesterday. I have thought of little else. And so help me, Annie, I will help you now. I refuse to let you live like this one day more. So I am begging you, quite literally on my knees, to let me help you. Come to London with me. Start a new life. Be free.”

  A more impassioned speech he had never given in his entire life. He’d never had a reason to. But suddenly, everything in his world hinged on her answer.

  “I… I don’t know if I can,” she murmured, looking at him with worry, hesitation, and sadness.

  He swallowed a lump of disappointment, but that was hardly her fault. He had dropped a mountain before her and asked her to climb. She would have been just as mad as he to accept at once. “I understand,” he said slowly, offering her a reassuring smile. “I truly do. But I cannot wait. Tomorrow morning I will leave here for London. If you come, I will most willingly take you with me and help you start a new life. If you do not…” He trailed off, the thought to horrible to comprehend. “Well, I don’t very well know what I would do. But you would always count me as a friend. The offer will always stand. Always.”

  “You don’t even know me,” she whispered.

  “I know all I need to.”

  They stared at each other for what seemed an age, not speaking, and not needing to. There were no more tears, and her hands beneath his were finally beginning to warm. He was still crouched before her, and his back and legs were beginning to throb.

  But he couldn’t even feel it.

  He was, in fact, remarkably content.

  The kitchen door swung open again, bringing Mrs. Burton and Mr. Lyman back into the room. Annie slid her hand out from his, and Duncan rose, stepping back to let them tend to her. He made additional suggestions as needed, but remained mostly apart. Annie did not look at him again, nor did she speak another word in his direction.

  When he was assured she was in good hands, and after receiving multiple assurances from Mrs. Burton that Annie would be properly escorted home, he left the kitchen and headed for his rooms.

  He could not be entirely sure what had just happened, but upon reflection, he would not have changed a single thing.

  He prayed Annie would come with him in the morning.

  He could never live with himself if she did not.

  The morning air was frigid. Much colder than it had been in days past. But the sky was clear, and there had been no snow in the night, so it was time to continue on. Duncan waited next to Balthazar, wrapped in his warmest clothes, and the furs lay on the horse.

  He had been waiting for nearly an hour already.

  He ought to just go. He was freezing and Balthazar was growing restless. He had walked the horse around a bit to keep him moving as best as he could. His eyes wandered across the horizon, wondering where she would come from.

  If she would come.

  Mrs. Burton kept bringing him things for his journey and additional blankets to ensure he stayed warm. At this rate, he would have more blankets than he had acquaintances. He suspected the woman was trying to make up for her behavior the night before, and he forgave her. He had seen in her eyes how much she had truly cared about Annie, despite what she wished to show outwardly.

  It seemed everyone cared about Annie.

  Just not enough to do anything about it.

  He had asked around this morning, and everyone he spoke with knew that Frank Ramsey beat his sister on a semi-regular basis, regardless of timing or reason. He had done so for years and nothing had ever been done. He was not a man of high regard in the area, nor of great importance. He did sell a number of relatively good horses to several of the townspeople, but all in all, he generally kept to himself. He was not well liked, and certainly no one approved of his behaviors, but getting involved in someone else’s private affairs was not of interest to anybody.

  Duncan was the same way.

  Most of the time.

  He shook his head in derision. He was a mad fool. Waiting in this freezing cold weather for a young woman he had encouraged to break all ties with her family, her friends, and her reputation to come away with him and start a new life, not because of some wild, frantic, passionate love affair, but simply because he couldn’t mind his own business.

  He did not regret it. He could not.

  But still, he was a fool.

  She wouldn’t come.

  Or would she?

  She was a timid creature, terrified by the world, and rightfully so. What had the world ever given her to make her fond of it? She had spirit, but she had likely never done a brave thing in her life. Someone had tried to crush her spirit and make her smaller.

  He prayed they had not succeeded entirely.

  He glanced down at his pocket watch and sighed heavily.

  It was time to go.

  He turned to Balthazar, rubbed his nose, then moved to the side and prepared to mount.

  Then he heard it. The unmistakable sound of snow crunching beneath feet, and a soft, timid call. “Wait.”

  He turned towards the sound and exhaled sharply, waves of relief washing over him so poignantly he could not breathe.

  She had come.

  Chapter Four

  I t was only three days all told to London, and Annie grew more and more anxious with every mile. After the first day, Duncan had decided it was not wise for Annie to ride all the way to London on horseback in the winter weather, so he had hired a coach for her. It was unfathomable, but he seemed to have endless amounts of money.

  He paid the coachman handsomely, he paid for the meals of other people, and he paid for their nights in inns so fine Annie had been afraid to touch anything. She knew they must have seemed very ordinary to him, but to her it might as well have been a palace.

  And the beds! She could have slept for three years straight in them. She had never known anything beyond her straw-filled pallet at home, and now she could quite plainly see what she had been missing.

  The coach itself was rather spacious for one person, and she felt a slight twinge of disappointment when she saw that Duncan would continue riding his horse alongside. She didn’t flatter herself that there was a bond between them of more than allegiance and the possibility of friendship, but that first day, when she had been so uncertain and afraid, his warmth and strength had carried her through. Now she would be alone again.

  She was under absolutely no illusions. She knew she had not actually run away with Duncan nor would he ever consider her actions as such. There was nothing romantic about a man helping her to escape from her abusive brother and indifferent townspeople.

  No one had ever taken such an interest in her before. Mrs. Burton and Mr. Lyman had certainly tried their utmost where she was concerned, being acquainted with her parents in the past and certainly always helping when she asked for it. She was grateful for their efforts in her behalf. But no one had done what Duncan had.

  No one had stood up for her. No one had ever insisted things change.

  No one had offered a way out.

  The thought of escaping had never actually occurred to her, as often as she might have wished for it. It was simply not a course of action that she could rationalize. Alone it would have been impossible, foolhardy, and probably would have ended with her dead or worse.

  With Duncan, not only had it seemed possible, but also remarkably clear. She’d had to go.

  She had not
missed his surprised, yet relieved expression when she had arrived, wrapped in her meager shawl and tattered dress. He had given her a very searching glance, then asked, “Are you sure about this?”

  Something within her had forced her to be brutally honest with him. After all, she was trusting him with the rest of her life, in a manner of speaking.

  “No,” she had told him, “but I’m doing it anyway.”

  Now they rode on, destined for London and her unknown future.

  He had been the height of consideration where she was concerned. He asked after her needs so often it was repetitious, but she never minded. He had lined the coach seats with sheep skin so she might be warm, had asked for additional blankets and pillows so she might have comfort for the journey, and he ensured that at every inn they stayed she had all the privacy she could want.

  She didn’t want privacy. Privacy gave her time to think on her actions, and so many doubts flooded her mind that she almost asked if they could stop several times. But some small thread of courage kept her from it. She had made her bed and she would lie in it.

  Besides, going back would ensure her a beating so terrible she might never recover.

  And Duncan wouldn’t be at all pleased about that.

  Her ribs were finally starting to cease in their constant throbbing, her bruises were fading, and the cuts had healed over well enough to only be noticeable if one truly looked. Whatever faults she had, she was a fast healer, which she was most grateful for at this time.

  She couldn’t face Duncan’s aunt and sister looking as though she had come out the loser in a tavern brawl. They would have tossed her from the house at once and she would have had to fend for herself in London, of all places.

  They might do so anyway.

  London.

  The very idea of such a large place was enough to make her shiver with fear. She wondered how she would manage. Would Lady Raeburn like her? Would she even want her as a companion? Would Duncan turn her over to his aunt and then wash his hands of her? Would he feel his good deed done and take no further interest?

  She hoped he would take at least some interest. He looked at her with such concern, such compassion, and she didn’t think she imagined the intensity in his blue eyes when he spoke with her. But perhaps that was merely his nature. She had seen him behave with kindness and charity to several along their journey, so it was likely that his nature was one of giving, of helping, and of asking nothing in return.

  He was too good for her.

  But of course, she knew that already.

  She leaned her head against the plush sides of the coach, tucking her shawl more tightly around her, and restrained a heavy sigh. She had rested well in this coach, had certainly been taken care of, and treated far better than she ever had in her life, but she was ready to be done with travelling. She wished to begin her new life as soon as possible.

  Why prolong what one feared?

  The carriage slowed, then stopped.

  “Annie.”

  She raised her head and looked out of the coach window. Duncan smiled down at her and gestured for her to look. “We have arrived.”

  She rose as best as she could manage in the coach and looked out of the window. There, ahead of them, in all its glory, was London. It was bigger than she could have imagined and far more imposing.

  “Oh my,” she breathed, her voice coming out more like a whimper.

  Duncan’s smile turned infinitely warm. “You will be fine, Annie. You’re not afraid, are you?”

  She could only whisper, “Terrified.”

  “There is no need. I will be with you every step of the way. I promise.”

  She looked up at him, and again felt her insides heat at the raw power and utter sincerity in his blue eyes.

  She swallowed and nodded, then leaned back against the carriage as it moved once more. Her fingers began to knot themselves together, and her stomach began turning over in anticipation. There would be no turning back now.

  It was not long before they stopped once more, and a brief glance out of the window told her they truly had arrived now. The buildings were so tall and so grand. And people lived in these? Regular people?

  She almost laughed.

  Regular people.

  She was a regular person. These people were high society, lords and ladies, people of grace and power and influence. And untold wealth.

  They would never be regular people.

  And she would never fit in.

  Duncan opened the door to the coach and offered her a hand. She looked at him uncertainly, knowing she should not be afraid. And she wasn’t. Not of him, at any rate. But actually taking this first step into her new reality?

  Of that she was more than a little afraid.

  She met his eyes, knowing her fear and hesitation was clear. He smiled at her, the corners of his eyes crinkling just a touch, and he crooked his fingers at her. “Come on, Annie. Time to be brave.”

  “I’ve never been brave a day in my life,” she muttered, pushing a bit of hair out of her face.

  “Not true,” he told her with a shake of his head. “You did the bravest thing I have ever seen only three days ago. This is nothing in comparison.” He extended his hand a bit further. “Come on.”

  She sighed, and placed her hand in his, ignoring the way her fingers seemed to tingle in his hold. She stepped out of the coach and glanced up, craning her neck to see the top of the grand edifice. There were no words for what she felt, for the pressure that had begun to pool in her chest.

  “It’s a bit grand for me,” Duncan said, seeing her dazed expression. “Marianne thinks it needs more, but I refused.”

  “I like it,” Annie murmured.

  He smiled at her and squeezed her hand. “Good.” Then he dropped his hold and took her by the elbow.

  Annie looked up at him. “So this is…?”

  “My home,” he finished for her. “I want to introduce you to my sister before we go to Tibby’s. It is not far, three blocks perhaps.”

  She nodded, swallowing hard. His sister. She had imagined so much these last three days and Duncan’s sister was one of them. She would be regal and elegant and refined, and just the smallest bit spoiled, by Duncan’s account. But she would have his coloring, dark hair and bright blue eyes and a ready smile. Annie hoped she would not be too proud or too fine, for she wished to make a good impression, and dressed as she was, and by her nature, she wasn’t going to have an easy time of that as things stood.

  And then there was Lady Raeburn. She subdued a shudder and bit her lip instead. She was glad she would have some time to prepare for that introduction. It was the most important one she would have.

  Duncan squeezed her elbow briefly. “I promise, you will be fine.”

  Annie nodded again, a bit too quickly, and swallowed once more. She wished she had the courage or the will to smile for him, but she couldn’t. She was surprised her legs actually moved as they neared the door, as she could not feel her toes. As quickly as she could, she glanced down, just to be sure they were still there.

  What a relief. If all else failed her, at least she was still in possession of her toes.

  Duncan rang the bell and stepped back. It seemed ridiculous that a man should have to ring the bell at his own home, but perhaps that was how things were done in London.

  A middle aged man with a receding hairline and an impressive frown answered, then stepped back immediately, his frown turning into a straight line. “Mr. Bray, welcome home, sir.”

  “Thank you, Wilson,” Duncan replied in his usual low tone, which seemed to reverberate in the entrance as they stepped in.

  Annie had never seen a place so grand in her life. She couldn’t see enough of it as she craned her neck in every direction. The entrance was almost entirely made of marble, and the slightest sound echoed on and on.

  The stairs were marble, but they held a green rug that ran along each step then seemed to spill into the same shade of rug that sat on the entrance floor
. The railings were a pale stone as well, and even from her present spot, she could see their smoothness.

  The walls were hung with tapestries of such exquisite details and designs that she could hardly imagine the intricate work that had been required. Sconces hung along the walls with ivory candles in each and there were halls and rooms beyond that she itched to explore.

  What secrets and mysteries could such a grand place hide?

  “A bit much, is it not?” Duncan said softly, leaning towards her.

  “It’s very grand,” she answered, marveling at how even her soft tones echoed.

  “As I said, too grand.”

  It was not too grand, in her opinion. It was perfect.

  “Wilson,” Duncan said in a louder voice, turning to the butler, “will you send for Marianne? I should very much…”

  “Duncan?”

  They all turned to the nearest doorway, where a young woman in a simple grey day dress stood.

  Duncan grinned and opened his arms. “Minnow.”

  The woman squealed and ran into his arms, and allowed him to pick her up and swing her round, laughing and giggling all the while.

  Annie hung back and watched the reunion with interest. Was this what it was supposed to be like?

  Duncan set her down and kissed her cheek. “Have you missed me?”

  “Dreadfully,” she replied. “This place is so dull without you.”

  Annie was mostly correct in her imaginations, but she had fallen far short of the glory of Miss Marianne Bray.

  No woman could have been more beautiful, or appear so unattainable.

  And Annie was suddenly very aware of how very much she lacked.

  Even the simple dress Marianne wore was exquisite. Silvery-grey and clinging to every curve without being the slightest bit revealing, and she bore a burgundy wrap around her arms that did not make her seem the slightest bit matronly. She looked positively regal, and the rich darkness of her hair reminded Annie of coal, which seemed a poor comparison indeed.