She scrambled quickly to her feet, alarm bells clamouring a warning in her head. Something in his expression warned her that things had changed between them. There was nothing elegant or urbane or remotely gentlemanly about him now. Outside the trappings of society, his face looked leaner, sharper and more predatory, the fervent look in his eyes pinning her to the spot.
She dragged in a breath, trying not to panic as she looked around for a route of escape. It was impossible to think that he’d simply found her by accident. She was in a secluded part of the ruins and she hadn’t told anyone where she was going. He must have followed her deliberately. Why? What did he want from her? If the look on his face was anything to judge by, she didn’t want to find out. She only knew that she had to get away from him as quickly as possible.
Even if the only way out was around him.
‘Good morning, Sir Charles.’ She tried to brazen it out, keeping her tone as casual as possible. ‘It’s a pleasant morning for a stroll, is it not?’
‘Ianthe.’ His voice was a hard monotone. ‘I don’t like being made a fool of.’
‘What do you mean?’ Her throat tightened uncomfortably.
‘You left the ball very early last night.’
‘I was tired.’
‘You embarrassed me.’
He took a step forward, and she dug her heels into the grass, resisting the urge to back away. She had a feeling that he’d pounce if she showed even the faintest sign of weakness. Her only choice was to face him down, confront him and hope that she found an opportunity to escape.
‘That wasn’t my intention, but I had every right to leave when I wanted.’
‘What about spending half the evening with Robert Felstone?’
‘That would be my business.’ She inched her chin up defiantly. ‘He’s an acquaintance. I don’t see how my talking to him reflects upon you.’
‘I made introductions on your behalf.’
‘I never asked you to.’
She glanced quickly past his shoulder, searching for aid and finding none. There was no one around, no one to see, just crumbling stone walls and a screen of foliage. What had she been thinking, coming here on her own, believing that the romance of the past would somehow protect her? How could she have been so naive? Again! She might as well have sent Sir Charles an invitation. Every instinct told her to get away from him now. If she could just get away from the castle and back on to the street, surely he’d never dare to accost her in public like this.
‘Now if you’ll excuse me...’ she stepped to one side, attempting to curve around him ‘...I’m late for lunch with my aunt.’
A hand shot out, catching her arm just above the elbow. ‘You know I’ve always taken a keen interest in you, Ianthe.’
She froze, her blood turning to ice beneath his touch. ‘There’s no need for you to do so.’
‘I think there is.’ He yanked her towards him suddenly, holding her so close that she could feel the rasp of his breath on her cheek. ‘And you’re not going anywhere until we understand each other.’
‘No!’ She tugged on her arm, but his grip only tightened.
‘Your mother was wilful, too.’ His voice hardened as he watched her impassively. ‘Headstrong. Impulsive. Stupid.’
‘How dare you!’ She stopped struggling and swung her free hand up instead, slapping him hard across the face, but he hardly seemed to notice.
‘I loved her anyway. I always did, but I was too young when we met. My parents refused to consider the match so I let her get away. It was the biggest mistake of my life. I won’t make the same one with you.’
‘What?’ She gaped at him, too shocked even to fight.
‘We loved each other.’
‘Liar! She loved my father!’
‘The artist?’ Sir Charles’s voice positively dripped with contempt. ‘She only thought so at first. By the time she came to her senses it was too late. She wanted me. We wanted each other. All these years, we only wanted each other.’
‘No!’ Ianthe gasped in horror, refusing to believe it. It couldn’t be true. If it was, then her whole life was based on a lie. It wasn’t true! She wouldn’t believe it. ‘You were friends with my father!’
‘Like with your brother, you mean?’
‘But...’ She shook her head, unable to comprehend such duplicity. ‘I don’t understand. Why would you pretend to like them?’
‘To see her.’ His gaze softened for a moment, as if he were looking inwards, before focusing intently again upon her. ‘And you.’
‘Me?’
‘If it hadn’t been for you, this last year would have destroyed me. When I lost her, I felt as though I’d lost a part of myself, too. That’s why I went abroad, to try to find some peace, but I couldn’t.’
Even despite their situation, she felt a flicker of sympathy. ‘I understand. I’ve been grieving, too, but she’s gone.’
‘Not completely.’ He coiled an arm around her waist, pulling her against him so tightly that she could hardly breathe. ‘There’s still a part of her left.’
‘No!’ Her eyes widened in horror as she realised what he meant. ‘I’m not her! I can’t replace her!’
‘You’re close enough. And now that she’s gone, there’s only you.’
He gave a twisted smile as his lips fell upon hers, plundering her mouth with a ferocity that made her cry out in pain.
‘Let me go!’ She flung her face to one side, spitting into the dirt.
‘You can make it right, Ianthe.’ He grabbed the back of her neck, panting against her ear as he twisted her head back towards him. ‘You can fix her mistake.’
‘Never!’
With a burst of rage, she brought her knee up and kicked him hard in the groin, wrenching herself free as he dropped to the ground with a grunt of pain.
Quickly, she seized the advantage, half-scrambling, half-vaulting over a pile of boulders, skidding on the grass as she bolted headlong back towards the path. For a horrible moment, she felt her shawl snag on the stone, but she let it go, hurtling breathlessly towards the safety of the houses.
He was mad!
She didn’t stop running when she reached the street, charging on past the houses, heedless of her appearance, trying to shake off the horror of what had just happened. The truth was more appalling than she’d imagined. So that was the reason Sir Charles never saw any difference in her appearance—because he wasn’t seeing her at all! Whatever crazed obsession he’d felt for her mother he’d simply transferred on to her! That was the whole reason he wanted her—why he watched her, why he seemed unable to take no for an answer. As for her mother’s feelings for him...she couldn’t think about those just yet. Right now she felt as though her whole world were spinning off its axis. She had to get back to the safety of her aunt’s house and hide.
For how long?
She reached the top of the Market Place and skidded to a halt. How long could she hide there? She couldn’t expect Aunt Sophoria to let her stay for ever. Her aunt had a small enough income without supporting her as well. But what else could she do? Where could she go? She had the unnerving suspicion that Sir Charles would follow her wherever she went. After thirty years of pining after her mother, it seemed unlikely that he’d simply give up now. She couldn’t even rely on Percy not to tell him where she was. If she really wanted to escape, then she’d have to break with him, too, and she couldn’t do that. Even if he had threatened to disown her, he was still her brother.
No, she realised, if she couldn’t fight or hide, then there was only one thing she could do. She could take refuge in plain sight, where Sir Charles could see, but surely wouldn’t dare to touch her. She didn’t have a choice any longer—had to grasp the only lifeline she had left.
Rightly or wrongly, she had to find Robert and accept him.
Robert drummed his fingers on the tabletop, willing the meeting to end. The members of the Railway Board were being particularly long-winded this morning, even more so than usual. At that moment, the possibility of a branch line to Scarborough occupied less of his mind than trying to think up a half-decent excuse to escape.
He threw an impatient glance at the clock. Still an hour until noon. What would Ianthe’s answer be? he wondered. He didn’t know what to expect. He couldn’t even guess how she would look today, let alone what she might say. But if she said yes...
His lips curved in a half-smile. If she said yes, then he could start drawing up plans for expanding the shipyard tomorrow. Harper was prepared to sell—his sources had already confirmed that—and he could offer a better price than any of his competitors. Once he had a respectable bride to show him as well, there’d be no reason for the old man to say no. The sale could go through in a matter of months.
Not that Ianthe was quite the same woman he’d initially proposed to. The way she’d looked during their dance was seared into his memory, heating his blood every time he thought of it, but then he supposed there were worse things than having a wife he was actually attracted to. She still wouldn’t distract him from his work, he’d make certain of that. And if a physical relationship were to develop over time, it wasn’t likely to affect him unduly. It wasn’t as if he were likely to fall in love with her. All things considered, the arrangement should still work out well for both of them.
He was still considering the matter when a clerk popped his head around the door, looking apologetically towards him.
‘Excuse me, but there’s a young lady here who says she knows Mr Felstone. I’m sorry to bother you with it, sir, but she seems quite distressed.’
‘Of course.’ Robert pushed his chair back at once, ignoring the sound of aggrieved mutterings from his colleagues. ‘Excuse me, gentlemen.’
He hurried outside, striding purposefully along the platform to where Ianthe was standing with her back hunched against a wall, arms wrapped around her waist as if she were trying to make herself look as inconspicuous as possible. She was in the same shapeless grey dress he’d first seen her wearing on the train, but with no shawl or bonnet, as if she’d come out in a hurry. Her hair was uncharacteristically dishevelled, too, with long, wispy tendrils hanging loose over her face that she made no attempt to push back. Just one glimpse told him something was wrong. Her cheeks were unnaturally pale, but the rest of her features were more animated than he’d ever seen them, her eyes darting from side to side as if they couldn’t bear to stop moving, while she was chewing her bottom lip so frantically that it actually looked swollen.
Something was definitely wrong.
‘Ianthe?’ He got straight to the point. ‘What’s the matter?’
She looked up at the sound of his voice, a fleeting look of panic turning instantly to one of relief. ‘Your proposal, does it still stand?’
‘What?’ He came to an abrupt halt mid-step. ‘Yes, of course.’
‘Then I accept.’ She spoke quickly, as if rushing the words out before either of them could change their minds. ‘I’ll marry you.’
He tipped his head to one side in acknowledgement, trying not to look too surprised by her answer, let alone her manner of giving it. She looked positively frightened, clasping her hands together in front of her in a futile effort to stop them from shaking. Surely she wasn’t frightened of him? She’d never given any indication of it before, though he supposed the idea of marriage itself might be intimidating. Given the chaste nature of his proposal, however, he wouldn’t have expected such extreme behaviour. Her brown eyes had an over-bright, almost feverish gleam that was downright alarming.
‘Then I’m honoured,’ he remembered to answer at last. ‘Though I thought we were going to meet at your aunt’s house?’
‘I made my mind up early.’ She jutted her chin out defensively. ‘I thought you’d want to know.’
‘I do. Though might I ask what made up your mind?’
A fresh look of panic flitted across her features, fleeting but unmistakable. ‘I decided it made good business sense after all. That was the purpose of your proposal, wasn’t it?’
‘It was.’
‘Then we have an agreement.’ She nodded emphatically. ‘I’ll help you convince Mr Harper to sell his shipyard and tutor your ward. In return, you’ll provide me with a safe place to live.’
A safe place? Robert’s eyebrows shot up. What did that mean? Why wouldn’t she feel safe? There were at least a dozen questions on the tip of his tongue, but he had the distinct impression that she wasn’t about to answer any of them. The noise and bustle of the platform seemed to be aggravating her nerves, making her as skittish and highly strung as a young foal. If he pushed her for answers, he had a feeling she might simply run away.
‘Then you’ve made me a happy man, Ianthe. Under the circumstances, I think that my colleagues can manage the rest of the meeting without me. May I escort you home?’
She hesitated, drawing away slightly as he extended an arm out towards her, before swaying back again slowly, placing her hand on his biceps with only the very lightest of pressures. He smiled reassuringly, leading her away from the busy platform towards the station exit. Her hand was still trembling slightly on his arm, though by the way her knuckles were clenched he could tell that she was trying to control it and put on a brave face. Perhaps once he got her into the open air she might relax a little. At least give him some hint as to what the matter was...
‘Did you enjoy the ball?’ He tried to keep his tone light as they emerged on to Park Street.
‘Yes.’
‘And your aunt?’
‘Yes.’
‘It was a great success, so they tell me.’
‘Good.’
Robert clenched his jaw in exasperation, his limited supply of small talk exhausted. Now that she’d formally accepted his proposal, she seemed in no mood to talk any further. He only hoped that her aunt would be at home when they arrived. Perhaps she’d know what was going on.
‘Where are we going?’ Ianthe yanked on his arm suddenly, drawing them both to a halt.
‘Back to your aunt’s.’ He frowned at the note of fear in her voice.
‘I don’t know this street.’
‘It comes out on Burgate, close to her house. I thought you might want to avoid the busier thoroughfares.’
‘Why?’
Why? He looked at her incredulously. Wasn’t it obvious? ‘We can take a different route if you wish.’
‘No.’ She hesitated briefly before shaking her head. ‘I just didn’t recognise it, that’s all.’
He led them on cautiously, curiosity burrowing a hole in his gut. She was acting as if she were frightened of being alone with him, yet she was the one who’d come to the station, who’d interrupted his meeting, who’d just agreed to spend the rest of her life with him, for pity’s sake! It didn’t make any sense, unless—he glanced down at her face, searching for clues—unless it wasn’t him she was afraid of... Unless it was something else, something that had actually frightened her into agreeing to marry him?
He frowned suspiciously. Had something happened to her since the ball then, something that made her feel unsafe? She certainly looked nervous enough. Her cheeks had regained some of their colour, but her expression was still ill at ease, her eyes still glancing around restlessly as if they were searching for something.
Or someone.
His brows snapped together at once. There was only one person he could think of who frightened her, but what could Sir Charles have to do with her behaviour today? He couldn’t have followed her home from the ball. He had been in the card room all evening...had still been there when he’d left to escort Percy back to the Swan. He wasn’t known for having ear
ly habits either. It seemed highly unlikely that Ianthe could have seen him that morning. In which case...unlikely and unfortunate as it seemed, her jittery behaviour must have more to do with wedding nerves.
His eyes fell on a jeweller’s shop down a street to their right and he found himself directing their steps towards it, struck by a sudden idea. If the idea of marriage really alarmed her so much, perhaps the best way to calm her nerves was to face it head-on.
‘Do you know how Pickering got its name?’ He asked the question casually, feeling her tense the moment he changed direction.
‘No.’ She sounded panicked again. ‘Where are we going?’
He gestured towards the jewellers. ‘I’d like to buy you an engagement ring.’
‘A ring?’ She sounded shocked. ‘There’s no need. This is a business arrangement.’
‘None the less, I’d like to buy you one. To seal the bargain, if you like.’
‘Why? We’ve already agreed on the terms. I’ve no intention of reneging.’
‘Ianthe.’ He stopped outside the window, turning slowly to face her. ‘My mother never had a ring. I’d like my wife to have one.’
‘Oh.’ She bit her lip with a look of consternation. ‘So it matters to you?’
‘I’d consider it a personal favour. Besides, as I was saying, Pickering is the town to buy one. According to local legend, an old king called Peredurus once lost his ring here and accused a local maiden of stealing it. Later on, some fishermen caught a pike in the river and found the ring in its stomach. Hence the town’s name. Pike ring, Pickering.’
‘So the King falsely accused the maiden?’
She gave him a pointed look and his lips quirked upwards. ‘Perhaps he simply misjudged her.’
‘Then what happened?’
‘He married her.’
The Convenient Felstone Marriage Page 10