“Then you will have nothing to worry about,” the duke said as he inclined his head slightly.
Of course Radford had no intention of waiting to see if the earl was a man of his word. His mind was already churning as they returned to the study. If May ultimately refused his suit, he would simply have to pay for a Bow Street runner to keep an eye on her.
After the second chance she’d given him at living, Radford was determined that May would never find herself in a position of being alone again. She’d never be forced to act out of desperation and beg for charity as she had on their first meeting.
“Is this mystery matter cleared up to your liking, my lord?” May asked crisply upon his return.
Radford pursed his lips, barely able to contain a smile at her futile attempt to separate herself from her previous slip, demonstrating her affection for him to the room. “I believe so, Miss Sheffers.”
He retrieved his cane from the floor. Bending down to fetch the damned stick proved difficult with his stiff leg. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Lady Winifred placing a staying hand on May’s arm when she moved to assist him.
Smart woman, Lady Winifred. A wedding date would have to be set before the end of the week if May had acted so uncharacteristically and provided him—the very man she had once vowed to never assist again—with a kindly hand. Radford trusted Wynter, the duke, and Lady Iona to keep their tongues from wagging. Mr. Tumblestone, however, might not be so discrete. He’d just lost a promised fortune by losing May’s hand. The picture he could paint would be less than flattering for both May and Radford.
There was no need to further feed the speculation already blazing through the tearooms. The gentle wooing he planned for May would have to be conducted in public and conform to the strictest dictates of propriety.
“Miss Sheffers,” he said as soon as he straightened. “If you are agreeable, I would wish to call on you at the Newbury residence this afternoon.”
Her jaw stiffened, a feat Radford had thought impossible. Her features already appeared sorely strained. She opened her mouth to object. He could see disapproval bright in her eyes.
“Of course, Evers, Miss Sheffers would be delighted to entertain you,” the duke answered before May had a chance to utter what surely promised to be a crushingly wicked refusal.
“Delighted?” she blurted, her ire truly pricked now. Her eyelids snapped several times as she huffed. Lady Winifred pinched the back of her niece’s hand.
Radford winced in sympathy for the sharp pain she must have suffered . . . to her hand and her pride. May obediently bowed her head. “I would be delighted,” she murmured.
She was quite the accomplished liar, Radford thought with a quick grin. He gushed his fondest wishes on Lady Winifred, Lady Iona, and the duke before sweeping from the room. Wynter followed like a happy pup.
“I beg a moment,” the duke called just as Radford worked his way down the earl’s front stoop.
Radford turned and waited for the duke to join him. Wynter, with incredible tact, wandered over to his landau and pretended to inspect a wheel.
“Yes, your grace?” Radford tensed at what promised to be an awkward discussion. Lady Lillian’s heart would be broken. There was simply no way to avoid it.
The duke might even wish to punish Radford for causing his lovely daughter such pain. And who could blame him?
“I do apologize for any embarrassment that I might cause,” Radford said quickly, hoping to stave off the worst of the duke’s infamous anger.
“About my daughter,” the duke spoke as if he hadn’t heard a word of the apology. “When she is to marry, it will be to a man whose heart isn’t otherwise occupied. I no longer approve of your interest in her. You will no longer be permitted to escort her to any future affairs.”
Radford couldn’t believe his luck. “Thank you, your grace.”
The duke, by putting an end to the courtship himself, had just spared Lady Lillian from the shame of being considered jilted. Though no formal announcement had been made, everyone had expected the engagement. If Radford had called on May before the matter with Lady Lillian was settled, it would have left a nasty blot on Lillian’s reputation, one that would be considered by many as shocking as being left standing alone at the altar. Vicious tittering would persist far beyond this summer season as the ton continued to speculate on what Radford had found lacking in Lillian.
He clasped the duke’s hand and shook briskly. “Thank you. From the bottom of my heart, I have never been so pleased to have a father find fault in me and in my desire to wed his daughter.”
* * * * *
“You needn’t continue to watch for the bounder like some excitable spaniel,” the Duchess of Newbury said to May with considerable disgust. “He won’t be coming.”
May was seated near one of the two large windows in the Newbury’s drawing room. The cool, sage-colored walls created a false air of calm in the room. The duchess was correct on one account: May’s heart was beating like a nervous spaniel’s.
For the last hour she’d been gazing at her newest book, a discourse on American flora and fauna, but not reading a word. Every sound drew her eyes to the front garden, where a storm was brewing overhead. Dark clouds rolled across the sky like great dragons.
Radford had said he’d come and call on her. Though it was the last thing she thought she’d wanted, May found herself turning breathless as the day drew late. It was Iona who had convinced her to don the bright violet gown, a dress May had never before worn.
“A messenger arrived several minutes ago. The viscount sends his regrets. I am sorry.” The duchess’ tone told another story. The Duke of Newbury had returned home and announced that he’d told Radford to look elsewhere for a wife. Never had May witnessed such dismay. The duchess had collapsed when she’d been unable to change the duke’s mind.
“The viscount is not good enough for Lillian,” the duke had said with finality. “She will just have to find another man to whom to cling.”
At first Lillian took the news calmly, shrugging elegantly and declaring there were many more fit men on the marriage block. But after her mother had fallen into a fit of hysterics, Lillian followed.
The poor duke had to sooth two wailing ladies while standing firm on his decision. May felt lucky to have such a strong-willed man on her side. She’d too been close to tears by the end of the ordeal.
Consequently, neither the duchess nor Lillian took a favorable view of the idea of Radford paying a call on May that afternoon.
“You must agree that his wishing to come here was in very bad taste,” the duchess said as May continued to stare out the window. She still couldn’t believe that Radford would ask to call on her and then suddenly change his mind. Had something happened? Whatever could be wrong? “Of course, after suffering Lillian’s rebuff, he’d want to find a new woman to parade on his arm. You were likely the most convenient. His pride must have suffered quite a blow. He was so devoted to Lillian, you must realize, ready to marry her.”
“Yes,” May agreed in the hopes of getting the duchess to just leave her to brood in peace. She certainly didn’t need anyone to remind her how she wasn’t quite up to crack when it came to the marriage mart.
When the duchess continued to hover, May closed her book and stood. “Pardon me, your grace,” May said sedately. “I believe I’ll go change. If you wouldn’t mind, I believe I should spend a few hours at the cottage helping Portia pack up the household.”
“Of course, dear. You must be feeling anxious to begin your new profession.”
* * * * *
Dressed in a plain calico cotton dress with a kerchief in her hair, May assisted her housekeeper in packing up the shabby belongings she’d grown to love. The battered silver candleholder she’d bartered from a shipping merchant had become an old friend. May ran her finger ove
r the pitted and dented metal and remembered the nights she and her aunt had spent in their cozy parlor, laughing while playing card games with a ruthless abandon.
Those days were over. The reminders were being packed away in soft cloths to be cherished sometime in the distant future.
May’s hand then stilled on the tiny porcelain figurine she had carelessly left sitting on an occasional table two days before. At the time, she’d rejected the dancing fairy figure Radford had purchased at the fair for her. The events of the past several days had been so chaotic, she hadn’t been able to take a moment to wonder about the gift. Why give her such a lovely present?
It wasn’t at all proper for a gentleman to be giving presents to an unmarried woman . . . not unless his interests in her were well known and accepted. It was even more improper for May to have accepted the gift.
Yet, he hadn’t let her reject it.
Just looking at the laughing sprite, a figure lost in a world of bliss, burned a hole in May’s heart. She set it aside but couldn’t bring herself to wrap the creature in a strip of linen and hide her away in a box.
She was doing the right thing, she assured herself. Her aunt had reluctantly agreed with the decision to leave. And though she’d miss her aunt dearly, this was the only way. Staying so close to Radford would hurt far too much.
Leaving Bath was truly her only rational option. Too many memories lived on the streets of this charming town. Staying in the city and having to relive them everyday would eventually stain those beautiful scenes.
Radford would eventually move on . . . and so should she.
“Oh dear me,” Portia called out from the back of the house. “Oh dear, oh dear.”
May dropped the packing linens she was holding and dashed to the kitchen. Portia stood with her hands clutched to her chest while a creamy colored horse craned its neck through an open window. Its long lips covered a bright orange carrot and sucked it into its mouth.
“Princess,” May whispered.
The filly, hearing its name, jerked its head up and stared at May. Its long lashes fluttered as it blinked its great big eyes.
“Whatever are we going to do?” Portia asked. “I can’t seem to scare the beast away, and she’s making a shambles of my kitchen.”
Earthenware canisters on the worktop lay toppled on their sides, contents spilling out. Fresh vegetables were scattered all over a flour-coated floor.
“I’ll keep her occupied,” May whispered, cautious not to startle the large horse. “Go fetch the Viscount Evers. He must be terribly worried about losing this troublemaker here.”
“Yes, miss. You be careful, miss. I’ve never seen a horse act so queerly.” Portia picked up her skirts and ran toward the front door as fast as her legs could carry her.
May kept Princess calm by singing a bedtime song she vaguely remembered hearing her mother sing. A fresh set of painful memories rode into the room on the backs of the long forgotten notes she produced.
Princess seemed to calm in response to the soft sounds. The filly lowered her head and nibbled happily on a head of cabbage as May repeated the chorus.
May remained frozen in the center of the kitchen while battling a mad desire to rush upstairs, fix her hair, and change into a newer gown. Radford would soon be on his way. She didn’t want his last memory of her to be one where she was dressed like an overworked servant.
But if she were to move, Princess might bolt. The young filly might look strong, but as Radford had said, she was still very young and spirited. She shouldn’t be allowed to run wild through Bath. There were too many dangers she might encounter. She needed to be cared for, protected.
May’s voice grew sore as she sang the same gentle lullaby. Luckily, her tune kept the horse’s interest. Princess continued to nibble.
The front door squeaked as it opened. The filly’s ear twitched. Her attentions, however, remained fixed on the feast before her.
A minute later, Radford limped into the kitchen, his cane clattering loudly on the stone floor. “Thank God,” he said between several deep breaths. “I thought I’d lost her for good this time.”
His cravat hung loosely around his neck. He wore a black oilskin cape smudged with dirt. He looked adorably mussed. May couldn’t help but be drawn in by his larger-than-life presence in her kitchen.
“I’m afraid she’s going to startle and run,” May whispered. “I’ve been singing to her.”
A strange grin turned up the corner of his lips. “I heard. It was charming.” He spared May a quick glance. “She likes you, you know. I’ve never seen a horse so besotted before.”
The thought of a horse in love with her had a strange effect on May’s mood. It pleased her to think that such a lean, graceful creature could find favor with her.
“Come with me,” Radford said as he gathered the few remaining carrots from the kitchen cutting board and stuffed them into his pocket.
“Where are we going?” May asked. She didn’t want to leave the filly. The silly horse needed her.
“Outside.” Radford took May’s hand in his. “You are going to catch Princess for me.”
“I am—what?” He had to be mad. She couldn’t catch a horse. What was to stop Princess from getting startled and kicking up her heavy hooves? May would get trampled . . . again.
“No, no, don’t fret, May. I’ll be right beside you.” He led her around the house to where Princess stood in the backyard. She’d completely trampled Portia’s herb garden. The ground vibrated underneath May’s feet when Princess jerked her head from the window and sidestepped away from them.
Distant thunder rumbled. Princess tossed her head up and down and sidestepped again, the storm obviously making her edgy.
What to do? What to do?
Radford needed her. Princess needed her. And all May could think about was how a horse had kicked her two days ago. She couldn’t brave the danger. It was madness.
Radford pressed a carrot into her palm. She drew a deep breath. Madness or not, Princess and Radford needed her. She stepped forward and hummed the song she’d already used once to calm Princess. Her voice cracked as her nerves began to wan.
“I’m right here,” Radford said quietly as if coaxing a skittish kitten. “Trust your instincts.”
He set his cane on the grass and drew out a long leather lead line. “Keep doing what you are doing. You’ve won her interest. Now lure her closer with the carrot.”
May clicked her tongue in her cheek as some carriage drivers would do before setting the horses into motion. The sound captured Princess’ attention. The horse lowered her head and flared her nostrils.
“Hold out the carrot.” Radford’s cupped the back of May’s hand as he slowly guided her to reach toward the giant filly. He stepped directly behind May, his body conformed to the curves of her back. He folded an arm around her chest and held her safe within his cocoon. The leather lead line hung loosely in his grasp, brushing against the front of her threadbare calico gown.
“Sweet Princess,” May sang. “Sweet, lost Princess, come home.”
Step by step the horse approached. May swallowed hard and closed her eyes, fully expecting a loud clap of thunder to send the horse on a murderous rampage.
Thunder did roll high in the sky. May’s eyes flew open. Princess didn’t seem to notice the rumbling sound while her flaring nostrils guided her to May’s hand.
“Draw the carrot closer to your chest now,” Radford whispered.
Her hand trembled as she coaxed Princess’ large head to hover inches from her own.
“That’s a good girl.” May couldn’t tell if Radford was speaking to her or the horse. Not that it mattered. The tender space behind her ear tingled in response to the caress of his gentle voice. Her legs grew watery.
Radford raised the lead line and very carefully l
aid it over Princess’ neck. It felt like forever as he very methodically looped the line around the filly’s broad neck.
“Beautiful,” he breathed. His arms tightened around May. “Beautiful.”
May released the breath she’d been holding and let her head fall back his chest, thrilling in the feel of his body touching hers.
His lips brushed her neck, nudging her to tilt her head to one side as his warm lips worked their way up toward her tender earlobe. He drew off the kerchief covering her hair and ran his fingers through her thick curls.
“Hmmm . . . ” Radford purred. “You’ve been such a passionate student. I cannot wait to teach you how to ride.”
May teetered on the verge of losing herself. It would be only too easy to open her heart to him again. She started to turn her head and accept his kisses when a large drop of rain landed on the center of her forehead.
A second drop fell on her shoulder.
And then the sky opened up.
Radford tightened his hold on the leading rein as a constant patter of cool raid pelted them, effectively washing the magic away and returning life to as it was. Radford stepped around May to settle Princess.
“Let me secure her to the post out front and then I’ll join you inside.”
Chapter 21
Why hadn’t Radford called on her earlier in the day? Just a moment ago he’d acted as besotted as his filly. A complete change from a few hours ago when he’d sent that impersonal message to explain his absence. Was it his worry over his missing horse that had kept him away? Or second thoughts?
May worried over those questions as she moved stacks of boxes from the parlor’s chairs. The whole cottage was in a sad state of disarray. The thought of entertaining anyone mortified her. She ran her fingers through her tangled curls and smoothed her gown several time while waiting for Radford to join her.
The Marriage List Page 20