"He did, he wanted out of the betrothal," Essie answered, still not quite seeing where her friend was heading with this conversation.
"No. What I'm saying, is while your family is far from poor, you're not as wealthy as some…" She let the words linger.
Understanding dawned. "As Miss Montray."
"Indeed. She's already in her third season. So it's safe to say she's feeling a bit desperate. Not to forget, she inherited all that money from her aunt."
"I had quite forgotten about that." Essie glanced down, processing all this new information.
"So, since it seems unlikely he had created a firm attachment to Miss Montray while you were betrothed, it seems logical to assume that he needs her money."
"But the Trighton's are wealthy—"
"Or so we think." Anna nodded with emphasis. "Take the McCords last year. Everyone assumed they were fantastically wealthy; especially after all the money they spent on their daughter's debut. But it had all been a desperate effort to marry their daughter as quickly as possible because they were practically destitute."
"In truth we probably would have never known unless it hadn't worked as they anticipated," Essie replied, thoughtful.
"Yes. And if you consider Miss Montray's prospects… her family's money was produced from trade." Anna lowered her chin, causing her expression to be direct.
"I had quite forgotten her father had, er…"
"Bought a Barony. Yes," Anna finished in her matter of fact tone. "Making it necessary for her to marry into a titled family in order for her family to be accepted by the ton."
"I hadn't thought of that."
"I hadn't either until I started to put the pieces together. Of course, I could be wrong, but, don't you find it odd that Trighton needed you to cry off, only to immediately be seen with another deb who is approaching spinsterhood, and who has a large dowry?"
"When you put it that way…" Essie bit her lip. "It does seem rather probable. But, it doesn't prove anything. It's all still speculation and…" Essie sighed and smoothed her skirt. "Honestly, I don't give a fig." She straightened her shoulders and walked over to the balcony that overlooked the garden.
Essie heard Anna's approaching footsteps before she noticed her out of the corner of her eye as she stood beside her. "You're right. It doesn't matter a whit, I simply thought that if you knew it wasn't well… you… then maybe you'd feel a little better about the situation," she answered softly.
"You're right. And you're a dear friend for considering it. I just… I don't want to think about him right now."
"I hope sincerely that you aren't talking about me," Cross interjected, a teasing tone to his words.
"You? Never!" Essie teased and turned to face him. His eyes reflected the torchlight on the balcony, illuminating his gaze with a smoldering quality that was far from innocent and light.
"Speak for yourself," Anna teased Essie as she strode over to her brother, poking his arm. "Where have you been?"
"There was an acquaintance I needed to speak with," Cross answered, tugging at his coat sleeves.
"Who?" Anna asked, her brow furrowing.
"No one important." Cross shrugged.
"How insulting," Anna teased, earning a confused expression from her brother.
"How so?" He asked.
"You left us to our own devices all for the sake of an acquaintance you don't even deem worthy enough to mention. How is that not offending?" she asked, smiling playfully.
"You, dear sister, are a menace," Cross replied, crossing his arms. "If you want the truth, with Trighton walking into the room with the Montray girl on his arm, acting besotted and as if he had never offered for Essie here, I needed a moment to myself before I made a scene of mopping the floor with his cravat." He spoke succinctly, daring his sister to reply with a smart comment.
"Oh," Anna replied, her eyes widening.
Essie felt herself grin, delighted that Cross would champion her so. Trighton wouldn't stand a chance. He was almost petite in comparison with Cross' broad stature.
"What a pity," Essie commented, her smile growing as Cross met her gaze with a surprised expression that shifted to an amused grin of his own.
"Blood thirsty lot," Anna replied.
Essie shot her a disbelieving glare.
"Oh, very well, I'd like to have seen that too." She threw her hands in the air and chuckled. "But someone has to act mature with you two acting to strangely. I had no idea that when you two agreed to do this, that it would feel so… I don't know… real?" She shrugged, then tugged on her white kid gloves.
Essie glanced to Cross.
He was watching her, searching her expression. Not knowing what to do, she glanced down to the marble floor, feeling a blush heat her cheeks.
If Anna only knew how real it felt, this whole forsaken ruse. Right down to her present blushing state.
"Essie?" Cross spoke her name softly, almost intimately.
"Ah, look who we have here." Trighton's familiar voice sliced through the moment like a sharp knife.
Essie glanced to her right as Lord Trighton walked onto the balcony, Miss Montray on his arm. His expression was smug and arrogant, his lips twisted into a smirk.
"Trighton." Cross spoke with a confident tone, yet as Essie glanced to him, Cross' gaze was focused on her, watching her reaction.
"How… enchanting." Essie turned her gaze back to Trighton and Miss Montray. Trighton patted her arm possessively as Miss Montray's gaze shifted in an uncomfortable manner.
"It is a lovely evening, is it not?" Miss Montray spoke hesitantly as her gaze darted between Trighton and Cross, her brow pinched with concern.
"It is, indeed. We'll leave you to enjoy the air," Essie replied with a polite tone, tugging on Cross' arm.
He bowed to Miss Montray and nodded to Trighton, but his polite actions were at war with the hard expression on his face.
Cross began to follow Essie out when Trighton spoke up once more. "Miss Flanguard?"
Essie sighed silently and turned to face her former betrothed, wondering what she had ever seen in him. "Yes?"
Trighton lowered his hand from Miss Montray's grasp and took a few steps towards Essie, his gaze locked on her as if stalking prey.
He leaned in slightly. Essie leaned away, tightening her hold on Cross' arm. His forearm was hard, as if flexing and practicing acute restraint.
"Desperation does not become you," he whispered, offering a knowing grin.
"Fortune seeking doesn't become you. And while a precious few know the truth about the previous arrangement, the persons who are aware are more than willing to destroy any threat to Miss Flanguard's well-being or reputation." Cross spoke with lethal clarity as he deftly shifted Essie behind the shield of his body.
"I could call you out for such an allegation." Trighton took a menacing step towards Cross.
Essie reached up, placing a soft hand on the small of his back, reassuring him and herself.
"You could…" Cross shrugged, utterly unthreatened. "But it would be to your own detriment… but then again…"Cross leaned forward and whispered. "We already knew you were a fool."
Essie peeked around Cross' broad shoulders, watching the fury mottle Trighton's face. Her gaze shifted to Anna and Miss Montray, their eyes wide as they watched the verbal fisticuffs between the gentlemen.
"Do enjoy your evening." Cross nodded, offering Trighton a tight smile as he held out his arm for Essie to take. She obliged and tried to still the pounding beat of her heart as they walked from the balcony and into the hallway leading to the ballroom. Anna's footsteps followed them.
"More a moment I thought you'd come to blows! What in heaven's name did you say to him?" Anna asked, her footsteps quickening to catch up.
"Nothing that wasn't the utter truth," Cross mumbled, his nostrils flaring.
Essie couldn't' take her eyes from him; he appeared like a dark avenging angel, furious and strong.
It was magnificent.
"Well… Mi
ss Montray certainly seemed shaken up from the whole scene. You should have seen her face as she watched the whole thing unfold. You know she did hear the part about fortune hunting." Anna spoke in a warning tone.
"Hopefully she'll prove to be a wise young lady and run from the wolf," Cross replied.
"He did seem not quite right in the head," Anna said thoughtfully.
"I must have been daft," Essie said, voicing her earlier thoughts.
"Pardon?" Cross paused mid-stride and faced her, clearly confused.
"Me. I must have been utterly daft to even consider him… let alone become betrothed." Essie shook her head, feeling ashamed of her lack of judgement.
"Essie…" Cross placed his warm hand on hers as it rested on his other arm. "Some people are masters of pretending, of projecting everything that they want you to see. Just because you are trusting, is not a reason to berate yourself. Rather, thank the Good Lord that you were saved from such a fate. I certainly know that I have offered thanks for it, more than once."
Essie bit her lip, helplessly drawn into Cross' earnest gaze. "Thank you."
"Always."
Essie searched his face, wondering how she could have known Cross for so long, yet not know him. Truly know him.
"If anyone cares for my opinion. I agree!" Anna broke the spell with her wry tone.
"I make it a point to never need your opinion, dear sister." Cross seemed to shake himself from the enchantment and smiled wryly at his sister.
"Your loss," Anna quipped.
"So, Miss Flanguard." Cross resumed their trek to the ballroom.
"Essie, I'll have to throttle you if you call me Miss Flanguard again." Essie narrowed her eyes playfully.
"I should enjoy that, I think." Cross flirted.
She blushed.
"I do believe that the next step would be a lovely ride in Hyde park." He shrugged casually.
"Next step?" Essie questioned.
"Yes, of course." Cross gave her a curious expression.
"Oh! Yes! In the… in the ruse." She swallowed, disappointment pricking her heart as she was reminded that this wasn't real. Was it?
"Would tomorrow at four be acceptable?" He took a step closer.
"Perfectly acceptable." She glanced away, then back, forcing herself to remain in control of her swirling emotions.
"I believe I shall take my leave until tomorrow. After all, we want to cause talk… not scandal." He winked and reached for her hand. Softly, he placed a warm kiss to her wrist, lingering for a moment longer than was customary. Rising, he focused on her once more, his blue gaze holding her captive. "Until tomorrow." With a bow, he left.
"Until tomorrow," Essie whispered as she watched him smile and turn to walk away.
Anna took at tentative step towards her, breaking the spell. Reluctantly, Essie glanced to her.
"Anna…" Essie began, pausing as she considered how to word her question.
"Yes?"
"How can one know someone their whole life… and suddenly not know them at all?" Essie whispered, casting one final glance to Cross' retreating form.
"I'm not sure I understand," Anna replied.
"Never mind." Essie shook her head.
Because how could she expect Anna to answer a question she doubted anyone knew the answer to, except for Cross.
Perhaps tomorrow at the park she'd unravel a bit more of the mystery, the prospect was both alarming and provocative.
Tomorrow couldn't come soon enough.
CHAPTER FOUR
Cross ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. It wasn't a huge ordeal, simply a ride in the park.
Yet if it were so simple, why did his heart hammer in his chest at the very thought? If it were a trivial manner, why was he so bloody nervous? It was damn annoying.
Last night had been almost too good to be true. Essie had practically melted into his embrace while they waltzed; yet her delightfully playful personality shined brightly, twisting his heart further into knots. It was unbelievable how one person could wield so much power over another.
And not have a clue.
But he had to admit, that the whole plan was going quite well. He had danced with her many times in the past, yet last night she seemed to finally notice him, to recognize him as more than Anna's brother.
To see him as a man.
It was delirious, wonderful and altogether frightening yet at the same time empowering. Because all he was doing… was being himself. Contrary to what she believed, he wasn't playing a game; he wasn't acting. Every touch, every word was spoken from an authentic heart; from a mad and driving desire to pursue till she belonged to him alone.
He descended the stone steps of his bachelor lodgings and made his way towards Mayfair. It wasn't a long walk, but enough of a distance that his heart would have a chance to relax. At first, he had thought of taking the curricle through the park, but as he considered it—and the weather allowed—he decided that a simple walk would suit his purposes in a finer way. With a walk, he could go slowly, talk endlessly, and flirt easily.
Especially flirt.
He didn't want to waste one moment with Essie, but use each second as an opportunity to win her heart.
As he neared her residence, he ascended the stairs two at a time and knocked on the door. Her family's butler answered and regarded him coolly.
"Lord Crossby to visit Miss Esther Flanguard." He withdrew a card.
The butler held out an oval, silver tray and accepted the card then nodded and disappeared into the residence.
Cross turned and regarded the boxwoods growing beside her door, aware of them but not truly seeing them as he listened for the butler's return.
As if on cue, the butler appeared. "She will be out directly," he informed in a cool tone.
"Thank you." Cross nodded.
Moments later Essie made her way out the door, a young maid in tow.
"Hello, Cross." Essie's cheerful voice washed over him, heating the blood in his veins. Her lavender walking dress fluttered and swirled about her feet. When the breeze lifted a wisp of hair that peeked from beneath her hat, Cross' hands ached with longing to tear off the straw headpiece and free her hair to flow through his fingers.
Essie arched one fine brow, bringing him back to earth.
He returned her smile. "Hello, Essie. You're looking beautiful as always."
A rosy blush highlighted her creamy skin. "Thank you. But we have no one to impress right now." She shrugged and glanced away.
Cross swallowed, but pressed on. "I'm not one to compliment needlessly, Essie. While my words were indeed meant to flatter you, I was also speaking simply because they were the truth, purely stated. You are beautiful. Regardless of the company we are in, the truth does not change." He nodded and gestured for them to walk.
She didn't make a move, but seemed to study his face, her gaze roaming his features, searching his eyes. "Thank you."
Cross felt a little too vulnerable under her scrutiny, so he tried to lighten the conversation with a bit of humor. "Ah! So she does know how to take a compliment!" He teased, grinning at her.
"Ha ha," she teased and poked his arm. But she followed his lead as they descended the stairs and made their way along the street.
The air was clean from the morning's light rain; the breeze became a soft whisper that flirted with Essie's hair, teasing it and blowing wisps of it softly against her cheek.
It was utterly distracting.
In the most delicious way possible.
Glancing at the road ahead of them, Cross decided to ask the one question he most certainly didn't want to ask, but needed answered. "If you don't mind me asking, is there a particular Gentleman that you are wishing to attract, you know, with the whole idea of wanting what they can't have." He grinned, though his teeth were clenched after he spoke the words. Damn right, they can't have. Because you are mine! He wanted to shout, but he held himself in check, awaiting her answer.
Essie seemed startled slightly, but reco
vered, turning to glance at him, she continued walking and appeared to consider his question. "I'm not quite sure, honestly. There's Lord Renguard, Viscount Marley, and I had thought to consider Lord Marchton, but he seems particularly attached to Miss Wessel. So to answer your question, no. I have no particular gentleman in mind." She took a breath and studied the scenery as they walked in silence for a few moments.
"I see." Cross nodded. While he was thrilled that she didn't have a particular regard for a specific gentleman, he hated that she was even considering Renguard or Marley. Both of them were good enough gentlemen, but it stung to think that she'd consider them… and not him.
"I figure I have at least a bit of time to consider my options. Tell me, what do you think of Viscount Marley and Lord Renguard?" She asked, turning her blue eyes to him, inquiring innocently.
Cross tried not to grimace, because he wouldn't lie. "Both men are upstanding gentlemen." He shrugged indifferently.
"Do you have any one that you could suggest?" She asked lightly.
As if he weren't already dying on the inside from asking the first question. But he needed to know just who his competition was. He took a deep breath, and prepared himself.
"Other than myself?" Cross asked, keeping his tone light on purpose, his eyes trained on hers, searching, gauging her reaction.
Essie giggled, poking him in the arm with her gloved hand. "Aside from the obvious, of course."
"It's always nice to feel wanted." He sighed dramatically.
"Tell me about it." She spoke lightly, but she glanced away.
Cross paused. She glanced to him confused.
"Essie, while it is lovely and good to be wanted, the most important opinion of your worth, is your own. Does Essie think she's lovely and good? Does Essie think she's beautiful? Is Essie proud of the amazing woman she's become?" He lowered his chin, spearing her with an earnest gaze.
"I… hadn't quite thought of it that way." She furrowed her brow and lowered her gaze, as if deep in thought.
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