by Regina Darcy
“Hush,” he muttered, his expression growing serious. “I cannot hear these words from you, Theodora. My heart will not endure it.”
“But I have to tell you,” she exclaimed, wishing she had spoken the truth when she had met him up on the hillside. “How foolish of me to keep it from you, when had I been honest from the start, this might not have occurred!”
“Please, Theodora,” he begged, stepping closer despite himself. “Can you not see how tormented I am already? When I saw you across the ballroom, I thought that my heart might burst from my chest.” He shook his head and sighed heavily, his expression pinched. “I am a fool. It has taken me too long to realise what I truly feel for you.”
Theodora swallowed hard, her eyes never leaving his. “How am I to marry your brother when I feel such emotion for you?” she asked softly. “When we have shared so much together, are we now to go back to being strangers? To pretend that we have no knowledge of one another, no intimacy?”
When he did not answer, Theodora lifted her hands and settled them on his chest, hearing his swift intake of breath.
“I do not think I can do that, William.”
He closed his eyes for a few moments, his hands slipping around her waist almost unwillingly. Theodora wanted to do nothing more than to lean into him, but the awareness of her engagement was like a noose around her neck, dragging her from him.
“I can offer you nothing,” he said eventually, opening his eyes. “I am still not sure who it was who attempted to have me called a traitor out on the battlefield, and as things stand, I might not know for some time. I will have to keep searching until I discover the culprit, and my life might be lost in the process.”
Theodora opened her mouth to argue, the thought of his death bringing ice to her heart, but he simply shook his head and placed one gentle finger against her lips.
“Do not argue with me, my love,” he said softly. “I cannot ask you to wait for me, to break off the engagement and bring scandal to your own family. For the sake of your sisters, you must proceed. I cannot offer you an alternative.”
Theodora felt her heart break, splintering into a thousand small shards. She wanted to cry out, wanted to cling on to him, but he was slipping away from her faster than she could hold on.
“Let us have this moment,” he continued hoarsely, his voice filled with unspoken emotion. “Theodora, my love …” He trailed off, his fingers lifting her chin gently as he looked deeply into her eyes. Theodora wanted to rail at him, to hammer on his chest with her fists and demand that he find a way through, but, instead, she was forced to simply take a breath and allow him to hold her. He ran his fingers along her jawline and down the column of her throat, trailing along her collarbone. Her skin tingled as if singed … as if he had left a permanent mark on her. In turn, she lifted her eyes to his, her rosy lips parted. She had no idea of what her eyes begged of him, her very innocence more intoxicating than wine.
“I should not,” he breathed, inching closer. “But I find I cannot help myself.”
Theodora did not have time to ask what it was he was holding back from, for he lowered his head and kissed her with such a swiftness that she entirely lost her breath.
His lips were firm and demanding, his arms tightening around her waist as he crushed her against him. Theodora responded with blind instinct, her arms twining around his neck just as tears began to seep from the corner of her lashes.
He broke it all off too soon, stepping away from her and gently removing her arms from his neck. The agony in his expression was almost too much to bear. Her heart tore asunder as he bowed carefully and then turned from her, never to return to her again.
NINE
Theodora sat miserably as Lord Jonathan Westerly, her betrothed, engaged her father in a lively conversation about hunting, her mind still on the man she loved. It had now been three weeks since that fateful night, and the banns for their marriage had already been called. In another sennight, she would be wed. It brought her no end of pain to think of it.
She had not seen sight nor sound of William since the ball, and Jonathan had not been particularly forthcoming on where his brother might be. She supposed that it was for the best, although the realisation brought her no relief from her pain. This was how her life was to be. She was to be wed to Jonathan and would very rarely see William, the only man she had ever loved. It made her heartsick to think of it.
At times she had considered breaking off the engagement, but one look at her sisters had forced her to change her mind. She could not do such a thing to them, not when they were as yet unattached. Even Ann, who was not yet out, could be severely affected by her scandal should she choose to break it off. Eventually Theodora had realised that there was simply no way out. She had chosen her path and as such had to walk it regardless of what she felt.
“I must go,” Lord Westerly said getting to his feet. “My dear Theodora, I shall see you come the morrow I believe?”
“You are intending to call again?” Theodora asked, rising to her feet but making no attempt to appear delighted at the prospect. However, he did not seem in the least bit put off, a good-natured smile spreading across his face.
“Indeed I would be delighted to see you again.”
Theodora wanted to suggest that perhaps Jonathan would prefer to talk to her father about hunting some more as opposed to seeing her, but thought it best not to say such a thing.
“And my mother is hosting a dinner next week,” Lord Westerly continued, turning to her father. “I would be delighted if your family would join us.”
“Is your brother to be there?” Theodora asked innocently. “I had such a short time with which to greet him those three weeks ago, and I would so like to get to know your family better.”
To her very great surprise, Jonathan’s face changed entirely, his lip curling and eyes darkening. “My brother will not be present,” he stated, evidently struggling to keep his disdain for William hidden. “I do hope that will not be too much of a disappointment for you, my dear.”
Theodora smiled softly and put one hand on his arm, not wishing to give the impression that she was disappointed in the least. The last thing she needed was to go into this marriage with a husband who despised her for what she felt for his brother.
“Not in the least I assure you,” she murmured, looking up at him. “I am sure we will all very much enjoy spending time with you and your mother.”
The anger disappeared almost at once and he smiled at her, his expression entirely changed.
“Wonderful,” he said, taking her hand and bowing over it. “Until tomorrow then.”
“Tomorrow,” Theodora echoed, waiting until both he and her father exited the room before collapsing into a chair, fighting the hot tears that threatened to run down her cheeks.
How had it come to this? She had been so happy only a few short weeks ago, but now she was was in the pits of despair. Fencing and the like would not be tolerated by a man like Jonathan that was for certain. It was as though Theodora was being squeezed into a mould, a mould that she did not want to fit into but was being pushed into regardless of what she felt. Her future had once appeared bright, filled with love and affection, but now it was dull and grey with nothing but propriety and expectation.
She brushed the tears from her eyes and tried desperately to calm herself down, not wishing her father to walk back into the drawing room and see her weeping. The door opened and she lifted her head and gave a bright smile, only for her sister Caroline to appear.
“My dear Theodora,” she murmured, coming to sit opposite her. “How are you?”
“I am quite well, I assure you,” Theodora replied, even though her lip trembled. “Although I thank you for your concern.”
“Do not pretend, Theodora,” Caroline said studying her. “I can see that you are quite in agony. I cannot imagine what you are feeling.”
Theodora tried to answer but found that she could do nothing more than break into quiet sobs, her hands coveri
ng her face. All the pain she felt came out at once, making her weep without being able to hold a single tear back. Her sister came next to her and rubbed her back gently, her expression sad.
“I am sorry, Theodora,” Caroline murmured gently. “Would that there was something I could do.”
“There is not,” Theodora replied, her voice cracking with emotion. “There is not a single thing anyone can do, not even William.”
“You love him then?”
Theodora nodded, her heart breaking anew.
“And he loves you?”
“I believe so,” Theodora whispered, the memory of how he had kissed her rushing into her mind. “But he cannot take me as his wife, and I cannot break the engagement. The scandal would affect your chances of every marrying well.”
“But we love you, Theodora,” Caroline protested, reaching for her sister’s hand. “It is so difficult to see you so upset. I would not wish you to enter into a loveless marriage for our sakes.”
Theodora shook her head. “I love each of you dearly, and I will not allow my own selfish desires to affect your future happiness.” She grasped Caroline’s hand and tried to smile. “I have made my decision, Caroline, although I thank you for your concern and your love. I am truly blessed to have such a sister as you.”
Theodora retired to bed early and took a tray in her room, prompting her father to ask her sisters if she was unwell.
Caroline took a deep breath and turned to her father. The situation Theodora found herself in brought Caroline a great deal of pain, and having discussed the matter with her sisters, they had all reached the same conclusion.
Their father had to be told.
“Theodora is not in love with the man she is to marry, Papa,” she began nervously. “That is why she is not as happy as you might expect.”
Lord Lockley chuckled and shook his head.
“Theodora will learn that love does not need to be a part of a marriage, although it may come in time.”
“No, Papa,” Caroline interrupted, frustrated at her own lack of clear explanation. “Theodora is in love with another man, a man she has been meeting out on the hill.”
“On the hill?” Lord Lockley’s eyebrows furrowed together, the smile leaving his face. “Are you trying to tell me that Theodora has been meeting a man in secret?”
Caroline nodded, aware of just how pale her father had become. “She has been taking fencing lessons, Papa.”
He blinked twice.
“You refused her, so she sought to fulfil her desires in her own way,” Beatrice continued, sounding quite matter of fact. “You did not truly expect Theodora just to listen to you and do what you had decided did you?”
“And what else has Theodora been doing with this particular gentleman?” Lord Lockley asked, his voice an angry whisper. “Or should I not ask?”
Caroline glared at him, heated that her father would assume Theodora had allowed a gentleman to take her virtue. “Theodora is not like that, Papa, and you should not think so little of her. She has learned to fence, and I am sure will prove it, should you ask her. The problem is, however, that she has fallen in love with this gentleman and he with her.”
For a long time, Lord Lockley did not say anything, his jaw working as his hand clenched around his cutlery. Caroline prayed that she had done the right thing, even if it was to cause a great deal of upset initially.
“Do you know the name of this man, Caroline?” came her father’s voice, his eyes boring into hers. “Tell me at once, for I shall have to demand an explanation from him!”
“It is the Duke of Sotheby, Papa,” Caroline said quietly, finding the shock on her father’s face somewhat funny. “You had best not ask why Theodora was spending time with such a high ranking gentleman, but in truth she did not know that this was his true title.”
“He kept his name from her,” Ann piped up, looking a little scared at her father’s vehemence. “When you said she was to marry Lord Westerly, she believed him to be the man she loved.”
Their father groaned and put his head in his hands.
“She is quite miserable, Papa,” Caroline finished quietly.
Eventually Lord Lockley looked up.
“Expect me to be away from this house come the morning,” he muttered, gesturing for everyone to begin their dinner. “I shall sort out this entire matter if it is the last thing I do.” The Winters girls looked at their father with relief. Telling him had been the right thing to do after all.
William paced across his study floor, his entire body tense with anticipation. Seemingly Lord Raven had discovered a man willing to talk, a man who had been involved in William’s situation out on the battlefield. The name of the culprit, the one who had orchestrated everything, was to be sent to him the very moment his friend had been made privy to it.
It took everything William had to remain in his townhouse in London, instead of riding back into the country towards Lord Raven’s home.
It was just as well that he had two properties here in town, for he did not think he could see Theodora again, not for some time. There was too much love in his heart for him to be able to even look upon her face, the memory of their shared kiss cutting wounds into his heart. It had been three weeks since that night, and still the memory of it was as fresh as the very evening it had occurred.
How foolish he had been to do such a thing! He should never have touched his brother’s betrothed, but he had been entirely unable to stop himself. In the weeks that had passed, he had discovered that he was quite in love with the lady, entirely unable to get her from his thoughts. The old saying, ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’ had been much in his thoughts these last few days.
Without warning, the door of his study slammed open and Theodora’s father stormed in, William’s apologetic butler just behind him.
“I am sorry, Your Grace,” the butler said, spreading his hands. “I tried but – ”
“It is quite all right,” William replied waving the man away. “Close the door if you please.”
Thankfully the Viscount of Lockley waited until the door was closed before advancing towards William, his eyes flashing. “Can you kindly explain what it is you have been doing with my daughter?”
“With Theodora?”
Realising too late that he had said her Christian name aloud, William tried to prevaricate, but it was much too late for Lord Lockley began to bluster once more, his bushy eyebrows knotting together.
“Fencing!” the man exclaimed, waving his arms. “Meeting her out on the hillside with no chaperone, no-one to guarantee her virtue!”
“I did not touch your daughter, my lord,” William protested, although heat crept up his face regardless. “Whilst we were out on the hillside, I taught her to fence that is all.”
“And now she is betrothed to your brother?” Lord Lockley shouted angrily. “When it appears she is deeply in love with you! Why on earth did you not stop this? Do you not care even a trifle for my daughter’s feelings? You have broken her heart. For that alone, I should call you out!”
William clenched his fists, the shame of his actions mixed with annoyance.
“Regardless of my title, I am not a heartless cad Lord Lockley. I care a great deal for your daughter.”
Lord Lockley eyed him suspiciously for a moment before letting out one long breath and shaking his head.
“Then what are you to do about this, Your Grace?”
“Do?”
“Yes, what are you to do about it? She is quite melancholic, and if you care for her as you say, then you will not leave her in such a state. I must say that I am not quite sure what has gone on in terms of your current circumstances, but if Theodora loves you, then I do not wish her to marry another.”
“I am surprised to hear you say as much,” William replied carefully. “I would have thought that you would not wish for her to break her engagement.”
To his surprise, Lord Lockley sighed heavily and sat down, the anger and bluster gone completel
y. “I was in love with my wife,” he said slowly. “And we had the best of years. I would not wish Theodora to marry a man when she is in love with another.” His grey eyes met William’s. “I care for my daughter, even though she is headstrong and quite foolish at times. She loves her sisters and knows that their future is at stake were she to break her engagement.”
“Whereas, if my brother was the one to do so,” William said slowly. “That would be somewhat less of a scandal.”
Lord Lockley nodded. “Especially if you were to marry her soon after, my lord.”
William sighed and sat down in his chair. He did not like to hear that Theodora was so upset, knowing that she was as heartbroken as he was.
He was about to answer Lord Lockley when there was a quiet scratch at the door. The butler entered with a silver tray in his hand and a letter on top of it. His heart suddenly slamming into his chest, William grasped the letter and broke the seal, asking Lord Lockley to excuse him for a moment.
His heart stopped entirely, ice washing over him as he read the note. He had to read it three times over before the pieces of the jigsaw slowly began to slot together, forcing him to sink back down into his seat.
“I do hope that is not bad news,” Lord Lockley said frowning. “You look quite ill, my lord. Can I get you a drink?”
Gesturing to the brandy in the corner, William accepted a glass from the Viscount and threw it back in one measure, letting the liquid seep warmth back into his bones.
“I will have Theodora as my wife,” he said eventually with stone-cold determination. “In fact, I believe we should go this very moment and find her. We have not a moment to lose.”
TEN
Theodora accidentally stabbed herself with her crochet needle yet again, letting out a yelp of pain before throwing down her needlework. She had never been good at such things and was certainly not able to concentrate on stitching at the moment. Her mind was still on her William, her impending marriage looming like a nightmare that would never end.