"Because if you like you, to hell with the rest of the world. Pardon my language." He shrugged unapologetically, grinning as she lifted her gaze to his with a slight gasp.
"Don't pretend to be so offended, you old stick," he pestered and led them back along the path towards the park.
"Me? And old stick? That's like me calling you a prude," she teased, tugging on his arm slightly.
"Why cover what is meant to be appreciated?"
"Yes that was certainly your motto as a young child. Why, I'm sure I should be scandalized with all the times I've seen your bare chest," she baited him, raising a daring eye brow.
"I hold fast to my earlier sentiment." He grinned. "But I must say, the view is infinitely more… impressive these days."
"I'll have to take your word for it."
"Yes, after all, we're after gossip—"
"Not scandal," Essie finished.
"Indeed," he replied.
They walked on in companionable silence for a bit. Essie shifted slightly, turning to him he saw a curious light in her eyes, "Cross? Why aren't you married?"
He almost tripped. That was not expected.
"You've failed to propose, so alas I find myself waiting." He shrugged.
"Tease! Honestly, though. You're handsome, you have a great sense of humor, many attributes a woman would find… favorable in a husband."
"Ah yes, favorable. What a… passionate word," Cross replied back, a playfully irritated tone to his voice. "All men dream of being favorable."
Essie pinched his arm.
"Ouch!"
"You deserved that. You know what I mean."
"I most certainly did not deserve that! Abuse, I tell you! And no, I do not know what you meant!" He rubbed his arm dramatically and narrowed his eyes at her.
She sighed in an exasperated manner. "I meant," She drew out the word. "That I can't quite figure you out, and I'm trying to."
"So I'm a mystery? That's quite different than asking why a man isn't married when he's so… favorable." He tossed the word back, grinning.
"I'm never going to live that down, am I?" she asked, blushing slightly.
"No."
"Delightful," she muttered.
"So, let me see if I understand this. You want to know why I'm not married, you think I have favorable traits, and you don't understand me?"
"Yes." She nodded.
"Welcome to the world of me trying to figure out women." He paused and bowed dramatically.
"Foul!" She cried as she laughed delightedly. "You're a miserable wretch." She spoke through her laugh.
"I'm quite a few things. All of which are… mysterious." He wagged his eyebrows.
"Yet another thing I'm sure to never live down." She covered her face with her hands.
"Essie, you should know by now that I truly do not need additional fodder when it comes to things to hold over your head. I've known you for far too long."
"Yes but…" Her smile fell slightly, replaced by a curious and dangerous glint to her eyes. "That's so puzzling to me, Cross. You know me so well, you remember… well you remember far more than I wish you to," she replied almost begrudgingly. "Yet I… sometimes wonder if I…" She paused, searching his face then glancing away.
"If?" he asked gently, waiting, hanging on her every word. Hoping for perhaps a sign that just maybe, she was truly seeing him.
"Miss Flanguard!"
Cross glanced up, utterly annoyed at the interruption. And upon seeing the person inquiring, he grew far more irritated.
"Hello, Miss Montray." Essie, ever the lady, offered the woman a smile and a polite nod.
"Miss Montray." Cross bowed.
"I'm so thankful to see you. I…" She glanced cautiously to Cross.
"Yes?" Essie spoke, bringing back her attention.
"That is, I'm very sorry about yesterday. I'm not sure what transpired… but there was one element of the conversation that has me… concerned." She spoke hesitantly as she glanced down and picked at her gloves. "Perhaps you could walk a bit with me?"
"Miss Montray, I'd be happy to answer any questions you have, and I insist on the integrity of my escort," Essie replied, gripping Cross' arm tightly.
He felt like soaring. She trusted him implicitly and had said as much.
"Very well…" Miss Montray's gaze darted between them. "Did you indeed, part with Lord Trighton amicably? I understand it is none of my affair, so please forgive my intrusive question." She blushed and glanced away. "But I need to know."
"Indeed we did, Miss Montray," Essie answered.
Because while it wasn't her idea to break the betrothal, she had agreed to it.
"That is… a great relief to hear." Miss Montray sighed, smiling. "That's what I was led to believe by Lord Trighton, but after last night, I questioned the truth of his statement. As I'm sure you're aware, as the ton harbors a penchant for gossip, my family needs me to marry into a title but we cannot have any scandal attached." She nodded firmly
"I see," Cross replied, his expression thoughtful.
"If I may offer one slight suggestion?" Essie spoke carefully. Cross watched as she picked at her dress, seeming nervous.
"Of course," Miss Montray answered.
"Take your time. I've learned that sometimes...we can be easily misled," Essie offered.
"Thank you." Miss Montray accepted the words with polite grace. "I'll leave you to your afternoon." She nodded and turned, leaving them alone once more, save the maid.
"That was kind of you," Cross said as they ambled along the path.
Essie shrugged. "It's not my place to disclose all the details, but I felt it was wise to give her some sort of awareness. I've always liked her. It would be a pity to be saddled with Trighton for the sake of title."
"It would be a travesty to be saddled with him for any reason."
Essie chuckled. "Aren't fond of the fellow, are you?"
"I despise him."
"You always were a good judge of character," she replied lightly.
Cross narrowed his eyes, trying to discern if she were goading him, but as her smile grew, daring him to return the gesture, his irritation melted against the warmth of her grin, so chuckling lightly, he turned his attention to the park. His eye caught movement by one of the various trees littering the landscape, and upon closer reflection, he recognized the man.
Trighton.
"Hmm." He led Essie off the path and towards a grove of trees not far away, yet still in enough sight for Trighton to see.
Gossip, not scandal. He whispered to himself as he pulled Essie a bit closer than was proper.
"Cross, what are you—"
"Shh, just…" he murmured and turned to face her. Gently he raised his gloved hand and traced the smooth line along her jaw, savoring the nearness of her body, the scent of lilac and lemon coming from her skin. A tendril of hair had escaped her coiffure and, giving into temptation, he drew the long lock of butter colored curl into his fingers and rubbed it, memorizing the texture, even through his glove. "Like thick silk, only far finer," he whispered.
Essie's gaze searched his, confusion transforming to an expression of secret wonder. Her bright blue eyes searched his, as if trying to discern if he were acting, or if it were real.
Cross lifted her hand, gently he kissed her wrist, inhaling deeply, closing his eyes as he memorized the warm fragrance of her skin.
"Cross…" Essie said softly, her pink tongue darting out to lick her lips, beckoning him to taste their flavor.
Closing his eyes, he fought a civil war within himself. Wanting to taste her so desperately, yet loving her enough to restrain himself. Because now would not be to her benefit, rather he was quite sure a kiss would do far more harm to her reputation than good.
So reluctantly, he opened his eyes and stepped back. Her eyes questioned him, then shifted to behind him, widening.
Tilting her head, she glancing from Cross to behind him once more.
He didn't have to turn to guess who st
ood behind him, yet he turned anyway. "Trighton." He spoke directly just before he saw him.
"Crossby." Trighton's tone was clipped, his eyes narrowed.
"Have a lovely afternoon," Cross replied, steel in his tone, dismissing him.
Trighton sneered.
Essie squeezed Cross' hand.
Cross couldn't help the victorious smirk that crept across his face just before he followed Essie's lead.
Trighton's gaze narrowed.
"Good day!" Cross called out as he followed Essie back towards the path,
"Just what was that about?" Essie asked, her tone slightly breathless.
"What?" Cross asked, playing dumb.
"For pity's sake, one of you doesn't want me and the other is playing a game," she replied, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
Cross paused.
Maybe it was from the undertone of the meeting with Trighton.
Maybe his blood was still boiling from their almost kiss,
Maybe it was simply madness taking over.
"Essie." He paused, waiting for her to turn and face him. Regarding her fully, he held her gaze, wanting her to hear every word, to see it' truth reflected in his eyes. "I refuse to discuss Trighton. He's below my mentioning. You however… were the only one who agreed to play anything." He waited, allowing his words to sink in.
Her eyes narrowed slightly, searching his gaze, as if trying to determine if what he said, was what he actually meant.
Women.
Shaking his head, Cross turned them around and headed back towards her home. "I think we've tested fate enough for one day."
Rather, fate had tested him enough.
And he'd not risk taking a step too far.
He was already afraid he had.
CHAPTER FIVE
Essie paced the floor. The evening sunset bathed her room in an orange glow, but she was far too distracted by her afternoon with Cross to observe the beauty of the light.
Just what was happening?
Biting her lip she paused before the hearth, watching the golden flames lick hungrily at the wood. Was he playing the part? Was he actually pursuing her? Was that what he had meant when he said that she was the only one who agreed to play along? What did that even mean? And how was it that she had known him her whole life—or most of it—and never felt so… she didn't know what to call it. But was a pull, an…
Attraction.
Essie gasped.
That was the strange sensation that completely muddled her mind whenever she was around him! It was maddening, it was… delightful. But Cross? Of all people—rather, of all gentlemen—Cross was the one to create such a powerful lure.
But hadn't she felt attraction before? For pity sakes, she had been betrothed not a fortnight ago! Of course, that was obsolete now, but surely she had felt attraction for Trighton.
Yet, with Cross it was different.
It was more, it was deeper, stronger, more mysterious and tempting.
It was… Desire.
Essie glanced to the wooden floor, not seeing it, rather reliving the memory of her interlude with Cross, just before she saw Trighton. Had Cross been about to kiss her? Would she have let him?
She grinned shyly to herself. Yes. She would have and enjoyed every second. Trighton had kissed her cheek, even dared a quick kiss to her lips, but she had felt a pang of disappointment. Wasn't there something more? Where was the swirling ecstasy of falling in love, the powerful attraction and passion that tempted ladies to risk ruin to find fulfillment in a forbidden way?
Her lips bent as a smile teased them, she was certain that Cross would provoke those sensations.
For pity sakes, when she was waltzing with him she was practically breathless. What would it be like to kiss him?
She wasn't sure.
But she was sure about needing to find out.
She still was uncertain if Cross' actions were in earnest attraction or the valiant effort of a friend. But with their current agreement, perhaps she could somehow get him to kiss her.
Or maybe she'd simply kiss him.
Grinning, she giggled as a plan began to form in her mind.
Another plan. Only this one was beginning to be far more brilliant than her first.
"Anna?" Cross tugged distractedly at his cravat as he scanned the drawing room for his sister. Anna's gloved hand waved from above the back of a couch facing the opposite direction.
"Here," she mumbled distractedly.
Cross frowned and strode over to the couch and looked over the back. "Mother would have your hide if she saw you in such an unladylike manner," he scolded, but without heat.
"Which is why I'm here, not somewhere conspicuous. This is a very good book, you know. I do not wish to be disturbed." She glanced up from her lounging position and raised a dark eyebrow.
"Far be it for me to interrupt…" Cross tilted his head to read the title from the spine of the book. "Miss Laken's final mystery." He gave her a wry expression.
"This is utterly captivating and I'll not have you slander it. What in heaven's name do you need anyway?" Anna huffed and sat up, glaring at him impatiently.
"I was wondering, that is, I was curious as to if Essie mentioned why she wished to meet with us." He rolled his shoulders slightly, trying to distract himself from appearing too interested in his sister's answer.
"Hmm, no. All her missive said was that she wished to meet at two p.m." Anna shrugged and glanced back to her book.
Cross furrowed his brow.
"Oh! And she didn't wish to meet with us, it was you, I think, that she wished to see. She sent the missive to me because, well, she couldn't very well send a missive to you. That would be scandal for sure, so she asked me to pass it along. Sorry, I must have forgotten to mention that." Anna smiled and returned to her book.
"She wanted to meet with me? Alone?"
"Yes." Anna dragged out the word, eyeing him curiously.
"And she didn't say why?"
"I believe I mentioned that." Anna regarded him shrewdly, studying him.
Cross glanced away under her scrutiny.
"Cross…"Anna's tone was curious; curious and contemplative. As if she were slowly putting a puzzle together and finally gaining an insight to the full picture.
Damn it all.
"Yes?" Cross cleared his throat and gave his sister a direct gaze.
"There's… I mean… you don't actually…" Anna started, her eyes burning through him, trying to lift the truth from his mind.
"Me? You mean…" Cross pointed to himself, chuckling.
The sound was decidedly unconvincing.
"Heavens!" Anna gasped. Standing from the couch. She proceeded to walk around to face her brother.
Bloody hell.
"How long have you been in love with her?" Anna asked, her voice far louder than Cross was comfortable.
"I have no idea what you're talking about." Cross turned and strode toward the fire.
"Cross… I honestly… I had no idea." Anna's tone was softer, almost pitying.
Brilliant. Just what he wanted. Pity.
"It's nothing you should concern yourself over," Cross heard himself say, his tone resolute.
"Cross…" Anna's voice was closer and he heard the tell-tale whisper of her muslin day dress just before she placed her hand on his shoulder. "I… I can't believe I didn't see it."
"I didn't want you to see it."
"Why?"
"Why? Honestly?" Cross gave a humorless laugh as he turned to face his sister. "Because when, in all of our friendship with Essie, has she ever given you or I the slightest indication that she felt anything for me other than friendship?"
"I—"
"She hasn't. Ever. Believe me! I've waited and watched and studied every emotion, every nuance of her face. I have every smile, every laugh memorized and they haunt me, taunt me every moment of the day. Before I even had a chance, she belonged to another."
"Trighton," Anna whispered, watching him as if seein
g him for the first time.
"Yes, bloody bastard that he was for hurting her, at the same time I was thrilled that finally I'd have a chance."
"She asked you to court her… to pretend to," Anna murmured, her eyes narrowing as if deep in thought.
"Yes, and I agreed but vowed that I'd play… but for keeps." He released a pent-up breath. "And I think I might actually have a chance, Anna… but I have no idea…" He paused, dropping his gaze to the floor. "She thinks I'm playing the part. I'm simply being myself… but what if that's not enough?" He slowly raised his gaze to meet his sisters.
"Then she's a bigger fool than Trighton," Anna replied with a warm smile. "She might be my best friend, but you…" She shrugged and reached out to lightly punch his shoulder. "You're my brother. And as much as it pains me to admit it—" She heaved a dramatic sigh. "—you are quite the fine fellow."
"High praise." Cross chuckled.
"Take what you can get," Anna teased. "So…" She drew out the word. "What are you going to do about all this? I mean." She held up her hand to keep him from interrupting. "I get that you're trying to have her fall for you… and, if I may add my opinion, I think she's doing exactly that—"
"Wait. How so?" Cross listened eagerly.
"If you could have seen what I saw at the ball, you'd agree with me. She watched you, searched for you and I don't think she even realized she was doing it."
"Truly?" Cross felt his grin widen with hope.
"Yes I—"
Just as Anna started to speak, their butler knocked on the door. Anna quirked a knowing smile and bade the butler to enter.
He bowed. "Miss Esther to see you." He stepped to the side and allowed Essie entrance into the library.
Cross watched with rapt attention as Essie glided into the room, her cheeks pinking slightly as she met his gaze.
Anna let out a chuckle that she tried to cover with a cough.
Cross turned to glare at her quickly.
"Forgive me… I do believe I need some rest. Yes. Wouldn't want to catch a chill." She coughed again.
Cross decided his sister had no talent for the theater.
"I'm so sorry to abandon you, but I'm sure Cross will be a gracious host." Anna smiled sweetly at Essie.
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