by Cheryl Holt
“Where will you be?”
“I will be wherever Miss Watson is,” John said, “and I won’t cease pestering her until she admits she has to obey me. After all, this is Dunworthy, and I am lord.”
“And she’s a Dunn. You proclaimed it.”
“Yes, I did.”
They grinned a conspirator’s grin and hurried out to complete their missions. With both of them allied against her, Winnie didn’t stand a chance.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Winnie put down another heavy box of smuggled wine and watched as Bobby pried off the lid to check the contents. They were cleaning and rearranging the room where John stored his illicit cargo. Her arms were aching, her back and legs too.
With Huntly’s help, they were emptying the place, relabeling bottles, and repacking crates. Bobby had requested her assistance, and she’d tried to refuse, but he’d been adamant. He’d practically dragged her out of her bedchamber, and now that she’d spent several hours at arduous labor, she realized his ploy had been very clever.
The project had distracted her from her morbid moping.
She’d never been lazy or idle, and recently, she’d been languishing, pitying herself and struggling to figure out how to sneak away from Dunworthy without her absence being noticed. Gradually, she’d changed her mind. She still planned to go, but she wouldn’t sneak. She’d say farewell—like a normal adult.
She would miss Dunworthy—with its staggering cliffs and wild, swirling ocean. She’d miss her great friend, John Dunn. She’d miss Bobby and Jane too. They’d grown to seem like the siblings she’d never had.
Before she departed though, she owed John a few favors. He’d been kind to her, had given her shelter when she was desperate. He’d shined his attention on her, had encouraged her to frolic and play and not be so serious. He’d made her feel flighty and frivolous, as if she were the sort of girl who could engage in a torrid romance with a handsome, dashing stranger and revel without consequence.
But that person wasn’t Winifred Watson. Winifred didn’t frolic and revel and have reckless amours. Reality was a bitter tonic to swallow, and it was reasserting itself with a vengeance. She had to move on with her life. After all, she was already twenty, and she wasn’t getting any younger.
She had to find a job. No, not a job. She needed a position where the children were little and she could spend many years teaching them. She had to latch on to a stable, ordinary family who would treat her with deference and respect. She would keep herself busy with her work, and she would never stare out at the horizon and wonder what was beyond it.
John had fired and evicted a slew of cousins, so there weren’t many people in the castle. It was very quiet, the halls deserted, as if ghosts were walking.
Bobby had pointed out that John’s kin were angry, that some of them might want retribution for the verdicts John had rendered. An easy reprisal would be to set the tax collectors on him, and with Winnie learning how duplicitous his relatives could be, she wouldn’t be surprised by any betrayal they implemented.
If a tax collector showed up at Dunworthy and demanded to investigate the storage room, there would be no banned items. There would only be innocuous, local products—and naught else.
They hadn’t sought John’s opinion as to whether they ought to hide what shouldn’t be found, but they’d debated the notion and swiftly discounted it. He was much too trusting and would have scoffed at the possibility, so they would save him from himself.
“May I ask you a question, Miss Watson?” Huntly said.
“Certainly.”
“When Melvina is released—”
Bobby interrupted. “For goodness sake, Huntly, call her your mother. That’s who she is.”
“She doesn’t like me to mention it.”
“Well, she’s locked in the dungeon, and she can’t hear you. In my view, you can offer whatever comment you like about her.” Bobby grinned at Winnie. “How about you, Miss Watson? If Huntly is candid, you won’t faint, will you?”
“No, I won’t faint, so Huntly you may refer to Melvina however you like. What is vexing you?”
Huntly worshipped Bobby, and with Bobby giving him permission to claim Melvina as his mother, he didn’t hesitate. “When my mother is released, Lord John has banished her to America. Do you suppose he’ll really send her there?”
“I have no idea. At the moment, he’s furious, but I can’t predict how he’ll feel in a year.”
“I’ve been fretting over it.”
“Why? Will you miss her? It’s all right to admit it.”
“No, it’s not that I’d miss her. I wouldn’t! She’s never been very kind to me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m just afraid that Lord John might banish me with her, and I would hate to have to live in America. I’d like to stay here with you and Bobby.”
“I understand.”
The poor boy was like an orphan or perhaps like a court fool. Because of his chubby size and bumbling physical ways, he was teased and picked on. She couldn’t guess what would become of him, but—with Bobby as his defender—he’d likely be fine.
“Could you talk to Lord John for me?” Huntly said to her. “Could you ask him if I have to leave with her? And if that’s his ruling, could you plead on my behalf?”
It was such a pretty speech, and she was quite moved by it. With him beseeching her so sweetly, how could she fail to provide her assistance? Yet she was trying not to talk to John.
When she was around him, she couldn’t think straight, couldn’t make rational decisions. She was eager to be with him forever but—when she was so thoroughly despised by his kin—she would never tarry at Dunworthy.
Nor would she allow John to bind himself to a woman his relatives loathed. Though he insisted he didn’t care about them, a marriage undertaken without the blessing of family was doomed.
“I could plead for you,” she cautiously stated, “but Bobby would have more success. I’m sure Lord John would listen to him more than me.”
“Could you both speak to him?” Huntly inquired.
“I already told you I would,” Bobby said to Huntly, “but don’t worry. Lord John will not send you away with your mother. He would never be that cruel.”
Suddenly, John entered, and they blanched like guilty children caught behaving precisely as they shouldn’t.
“What cruel thing won’t I do?” he said.
Bobby explained, “Huntly is concerned about his mother going to America next year. He’s anxious that you might banish him with her, and I swore you’d never be that spiteful.”
Bobby nudged Huntly, and he stepped forward to make his case. “America is very far away, Lord John, and I’m not acquainted with anyone there. I’d like to stay at Dunworthy. I wouldn’t like to accompany my mother.”
“She’s always been awful to him, Lord John,” Bobby added.
John peered over at Winnie. “What’s your opinion, Miss Watson? Should I let Huntly remain?”
“Yes, absolutely. He’s proved himself to be a loyal Dunn.”
“He helped Jane,” Bobby said. “He rescued her when she was locked in her room, and he hid her from Melvina.”
John gazed down at Huntly, his expression very firm. “You were extremely brave through the entire episode, Huntly.”
At the compliment, Huntly puffed up with pride. “Thank you, Lord John.”
“I hadn’t assumed for a single second that you would depart with Melvina. The notion hadn’t occurred to me. So no, I won’t exile you with her.”
Huntly smiled, and he actually seemed a bit mischievous and charming. Maybe he’d grow up to be a good-looking young man in the end. She could only hope.
“In fact, Huntly,” John said, “I’ve been wondering if you might like to attend boarding school this autumn. It might be fun for you. Would you like that?”
Huntly was perplexed. “Would Bobby come with me?”
&n
bsp; “Probably not.”
“Can I think on it then?”
“Of course.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to say she could teach Huntly, that she could start the school she’d pondered, but she didn’t offer her services. When she was so close to fleeing, it was pointless to volunteer.
John studied the room. “Miss Watson, you’re obviously up to your elbows in another project. What exactly are the three of you doing?”
She and Bobby shared a conspiratorial glance, then she said, “We’re protecting you from a possible visit by the tax men.”
Lest John be angry and chastise Winnie, Bobby confessed, “It was my idea, Lord John.”
“Why would you worry about that?” John asked.
“You’ve enraged most of your cousins,” she said. “You’ve evicted people and fired people. We were afraid there might be a few who’d enjoy some revenge.”
He nodded. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“We’re hauling your ill-gotten merchandise to a better spot.”
“It appears you have some felonious tendencies, Miss Watson.”
“I don’t. I’d just hate for you to be in trouble because of your kin. I was the root of much of your difficulty with them.”
“You were not,” he huffed. “They created their own problems. Don’t you dare blame yourself.”
She wasn’t in the mood to debate the issue, so she said, “I don’t want you to suffer any repercussions.”
“Does this mean you’ve forgiven me for my smuggling?”
“No. I simply won’t give your relatives any further chances to be horrid to you.”
He grinned at Bobby and Huntly. “I have a champion. How could anything bad happen to me when I have a woman as fierce as Miss Watson fighting by my side?”
The boys grinned too, all of them looking male and pompous and superior, and she rolled her eyes in exasperation.
“Would you go away?” she said to John. “When you’re strutting about and being ridiculous, we can’t finish our chores.”
He didn’t move though, but scrutinized her intensely. “I must admit that I’m surprised to see you hard at work on my behalf.”
She scowled. “Why? I’m not a sluggard.”
“According to Jane, you’re about to abandon us and head to London. Why would you waste any energy saving my sorry hide from the authorities?”
Her scowl deepened. “Why would Jane suppose I was planning to depart?”
“You shouldn’t have letters lying on your desk where anyone can read them.”
She sighed. She wouldn’t deny writing to Josephine Bates. She’d begun the missive as Bobby had stopped by and dragged her away. She shouldn’t have left it in plain sight, but it was an indication of how distracted she’d been since her ordeal with Mr. Townsend.
Clearly, she wasn’t thinking clearly.
She’d been avoiding this conversation, but apparently, they would hash it out once and for all.
Huntly appeared stricken. “Are you leaving Dunworthy, Miss Watson?”
“She’s considering it,” Bobby told him, “but she’ll come to her senses.”
If only that were true…
“Boys, would you step out into the hall?” John said to them. “Miss Watson and I need to have a private discussion that doesn’t include you.”
She was aghast at the prospect of being alone with him. He overwhelmed her to where she wound up relenting on any subject he raised.
“You two can listen in,” she hurriedly insisted. “I don’t mind.”
“I do,” John countered. “Be off—both of you.”
On receiving different commands, there was no question of who they would obey. They scooted out, and Bobby shut the door.
It grew terribly quiet, and John seemed to loom over her. She lurched away to create some distance, but he followed her. He positioned himself between her and the door, slyly apprising her that she couldn’t escape.
“It’s occurred to me,” he said, “that you’ve been scheming behind my back.”
“I haven’t been scheming. I’m merely trying to figure out my path forward.”
“Your path? Pray tell, what have you—in your infinite wisdom—decided would be best?”
“I have to travel to London and find a job.”
“Why?”
“Why would you suppose? To earn money? To keep a roof over my head? To have food to eat? To have clothes to wear? I’m on my own in this world, and there’s no one to provide those things for me. I have to provide them for myself.”
“You have those things here.”
“Yes, you’ve been incredibly kind, but I’ve imposed long enough.”
“You’ve…imposed? Is that how you view our situation?”
“Yes, and don’t pretend I haven’t been a burden.”
“How have you been a burden? Please inform me. I’m dying to hear.”
She counted on her fingers. “I showed up without warning. I delivered two children and demanded you take them in—and one of them wasn’t even a relative. I’ve caused trouble with your cousins. You had to chase after me and rescue me from a fiend. You’ve extended more hospitality than any gentleman in the kingdom.”
“Are you grateful for my efforts?”
“Yes.”
“But to thank me, you’ll trot off without a word.”
“I intended to say goodbye.”
“I don’t believe you. It’s obvious you’re furtively plotting because you don’t have the courage to mention it to my face.”
She could have argued with him, but she wouldn’t. “You’re correct. I didn’t have the courage.”
“What about Bobby and Jane? Will you dump them in my lap and stroll off into the sunset?”
“They’re not my responsibility.” At uttering the disloyal comment, she felt horrid and had to glance away. “I can’t tend them forever. I was just their governess—and not a very proficient one at that.”
He assessed her, his meticulous gaze digging deep, and she could barely keep from squirming. He peered down to her very core, and she didn’t like to have him rattling around in there.
“Tell me what this is really about,” he said.
“I need to get on with my life.”
“Your life,” he jeered.
“It’s important to confront the future.”
“Not if I’m excluded from the picture you’re envisioning.”
He leaned in so his body was touching hers. She couldn’t bear to have him stand so close, and she took a hasty step back. He did too, and they engaged in a bizarre sort of dance across the floor.
Ultimately, she bumped into the wall and could go no farther. He swooped in and slapped his palms on either side of her so she was trapped in his arms. She tried to push him away, but it was like shoving a boulder.
“Describe this future you’re imagining, Winnie.”
“I told you: I have to travel to London and find a job.”
“Which indicates I’m not part of whatever it is you’re planning.”
“Why would you be?”
“Why indeed?”
Her remark aggravated him, and he looked incensed and insulted.
“Perhaps I’m confused,” he fumed, “but I could swear we’ve been romantically involved for weeks.”
“We have been, but so what?”
“It didn’t mean anything to you?”
“It meant something, but I’m not about to completely veer off course over a silly dalliance.”
“Silly! Our relationship was that insignificant to you?”
She frowned. “I’m sorry. That didn’t come out right.”
“I should hope not.” His fierce glare dipped to her tummy. “We’ve been copulating like a pair of rabbits. What if you’re increasing?”
“I’m not.”
“How can you be sure? It can take months for the symptoms to appear, so I
ask you again: What if you’re carrying my child? You can’t assume I’ll let you flit off.”
“It’s none of your business what I do,” she tepidly said, while realizing—if she was with child—it was absolutely his business.
“Would you saunter around the city with no ring on your finger and your belly swelling your gowns? What might happen to you there without a husband’s protection? You can’t expect it would end well.”
“Then I…I…I guess I’d buy a pistol, return to Dunworthy, and shoot you in the middle of your cold, black heart.”
He chuckled. “My heart is not cold or black.”
“No, it’s not. I shouldn’t have said that either. I’m being a shrew.”
“There’s only one solution for you.”
“What solution?”
“You have to wed me.”
“I won’t. You’ll never persuade me.”
“Even if you’re increasing? Really?”
“Yes, really.”
“Don’t be absurd. We’re marrying, and I won’t tolerate any of your nonsense.”
“You can’t boss me in this. It won’t work.”
“Who’s bossing you?” he asked. “I’m simply stating the facts. We’ve misbehaved, and now, we have to pay the price. We have to wed.”
“No, we don’t.”
“What other conclusion is there? Oh, that’s right, you think you can prance about without a husband when you have a babe in your belly.”
“We’re not certain about my condition. If it becomes an issue later on, I’ll…ah…I’ll contact you.”
“No. We’re not doing it your way. We’re doing it mine.”
He pulled his palms from the wall and dropped to a knee. He clasped her hand in his, and she winced with dismay.
“Don’t make me refuse you, John,” she begged.
“You’re not going to refuse me. Be silent and listen.”
“I won’t be silent.”
“Hush, Winnie! You could drive a man to drink with your chatter.”
“I won’t marry you. You’ll never convince me.”
She yanked away and walked across the room, leaving him kneeling on the floor like a supplicant. It was petty conduct, and she was ashamed of herself. He exhaled a grumble and pushed himself to his feet.