She watched him leave to send for the carriage. He was impossible; arrogant, stubborn, and controlled, but also kind beyond measure. She was beginning to think they were perfectly matched after all.
—
Brandt handed the butler the bouquet of flowers. “I will not disturb Lady Chloe while she is receiving other visitors. Please see that she gets the flowers.”
“Of course, my lord.”
He turned away, trying to convince himself that he was relieved he had a convenient excuse not to deliver the flowers in person. It was best that he not see her nor allow himself to be engaged in any more conversations such as yesterday’s. Conversations that might lead him to hope for things he could not have. Such as Chloe.
“Brandt!”
Belle’s voice stopped him. He turned. She was coming across the hall towards him, her usual smile of welcome on her face. The longing and envy for the happiness his cousin had found with her hit him with renewed vigour. He forced himself to smile. “Good day, Belle.”
She seemed to notice nothing amiss. “Are these for Chloe? How lovely! But you must deliver them to her in person. I know she wishes to see you. She said she never thanked you properly for your gallant rescue yesterday. I believe she would like to do so.”
“Indeed. Yesterday she indicated that there was no need for such a rescue. She told me she had planned to wait on the rocks until the tide receded.”
“I believe she felt extremely foolish to have gone so far in the first place. She has never liked to inconvenience anyone or to feel beholden to them.” She touched his hand. “So come and see her. Her injuries are much better and she is insisting she should be able to walk about. Perhaps you can convince her to stay down.”
“I doubt it. Does she not have a visitor already?”
“She has had several. Miss Coltrane left a quarter of an hour ago. Miss Sutton arrived shortly after that. And, oh yes, Sir Preston is here.”
Kentworth? What the hell was he doing here? Did he somehow know that their betrothal was only temporary and hoped to stake his claim early? He’d best look elsewhere, for Chloe was still his until the betrothal formally ended.
After that, he still had no intention of allowing Kentworth to have her.
Even as he told himself his speculations were ridiculous, he found himself saying, “Very well, I’ll see her.”
He took the flowers back from the butler and followed Belle through the hall to the staircase. They met Miss Sutton and her mother at the bottom, which meant Kentworth was with Chloe, unchaperoned. To his irritation, the departing guests insisted on exchanging a number of pleasantries, which Belle seemed in no hurry to discourage. He shifted impatiently. At this rate, Kentworth would have time to seduce Chloe if he had a mind to.
He finally broke in. “I trust you will understand if I take my leave of you and go to see Lady Chloe.”
“Of course,” Mrs Sutton said kindly. “I have no doubt you are anxious to see how the poor girl is doing for yourself. You must go.”
He started up the stairs, only to hear Mrs Sutton say, “How nice to see two such suitable young persons in love. Perhaps I am too modern, but I do think love matches are so much nicer than marriages made only for convenience.”
He did not hear Belle’s reply. His mind was reeling. In love? Did everyone actually think he and Chloe were in love? He had no idea how they came to such a conclusion when everything in their behaviour should indicate otherwise.
Still unsettled, he stalked into the drawing room just in time to see Kentworth take Chloe’s hand and bow over it. “So I might hope? Never thought to tumble head over ears until…”
It was all he could do to restrain himself from grabbing Kentworth by the throat and backing him up against the wall. “Is there a reason why you are holding my fiancée’s hand?”
They both jumped when Brandt spoke. Kentworth dropping her hand as if burned. Brandt had no idea how to read the emotions that flashed across Chloe’s face.
Kentworth straightened. He eyed Brandt with an amazing calm for a man on the verge of being challenged. “About to take my leave. No need to look like a dog with a bone.” He picked up his gloves and then stopped to face Brandt. “Hope you know what a right-goer you have, Salcombe.”
Brandt stared at him. “I do,” he said shortly.
“Good.” Kentworth left.
He turned to Chloe on the sofa. She looked lovely and rather fragile with the quilt over her lap, and completely in need of protection. His protection.
“What the devil was Kentworth saying to you about tumbling head over ears?”
“What lovely flowers! Are they for me?”
He stalked towards her. “Yes.” He held them out to her and she took them.
“How pretty! Daisies and gillyflowers are my favourites. And there is a rose! Is that from the old shrub that is growing near the south wall? I thought all the roses were spent.”
“I found one. You have not answered my question.”
“Haven’t I?”
“Yes. No!” He folded his arms. “You are still my fiancée, you know.”
The slight smile left her face and he saw she looked rather angry. “Am I? If you must know, I found your question rather stupid.”
“You think it stupid to question why another man is holding your hand and speaking to you of love?”
“Yes.” She met his gaze.
“Is he in love with you?” Because if he was, he would be dead.
She took a deep breath. “No, of course not. He is in love with Emily. He realised it as soon as she decided not to be in love with him any more. Except that I think she still cares for him, but does not want to admit it. Perhaps she wishes him to suffer the same pain of unrequited love she did.”
“So he is not in love with you.”
“That is what I said.” Now she sounded exasperated. “He was referring to Emily. He wished to know if he had any hope.”
There was nothing in her clear gaze that belied her words. He was beginning to feel foolish. “I see.” He paced away. “None the less, I would ask you to refrain from holding Kentworth’s hand in the future or encouraging such confidences.” He sounded unbelievably pompous even to his own ears.
“Why?”
“We are betrothed. It is not seemly for you to do such things with other men.”
“Would it be more seemly if I did such things with you?” There was a tinge of anger in her voice.
“Yes.”
“Except I can’t imagine you would ever need to hold my hand or confide in me!” Now she sounded truly angry. “At least Sir Preston makes me feel useful!”
“Does he?” He had no idea what she was talking about, but the jealousy he had tried to smother burst forth. “Since you have nothing but praise for him, then perhaps you should consider him for your future husband after all.”
Something flashed in her eyes and then she lifted her chin. “Perhaps I will, if Emily does not want him.”
“Hell will freeze over before I will allow that to happen!”
“It will be none of your business.”
“It is as long as you are betrothed to me.”
She smiled, a cool little smile that made him gnash his teeth. “I won’t be betrothed to you for ever.”
He stared at her, but before he could say anything, she continued, “In fact, I think it best if we end this idiotic farce now.”
He took a step towards her, wanting to kiss her until she admitted she was his. Instead, he gritted his teeth. “I am loath to inform you, that however you might hate it, we will continue this farce until the agreed-upon time. I’ve no intention of allowing your guardian a reason to cart you off to Denbigh Hall. And you might consider how Belle will feel if you decide to throw me over two days before the party.” He picked up his gloves with a deliberate movement. “I will bid you farewell for now. I will see you the day after next at our betrothal celebration.” He gave the words sardonic emphasis.
He did not give he
r time to reply, instead he stalked from the room, his temper at breaking point. He ran into his cousin coming from his study. “In the future I trust you will keep Chloe better chaperoned,” Brandt ground out.
“From you?”
“No, dammit, from Kentworth or any other man who comes to call.”
“I quite see.”
It wasn’t until he had swung himself upon his horse that he recalled he had not even inquired after her health. Instead, he had allowed his own temper and passions to take over.
But then, she did not want him. She had made that very clear today.
—
Chloe stared at the lovely bouquet of flowers. The gillyflowers had already started to wilt. She had been tempted to throw the bouquet at Brandt, but now it only looked sad and forlorn. Just the way she felt. Her temper had cooled almost as soon as he had gone, leaving her with nothing but an overwhelming desire to burst into tears.
Provoking him had given her a great deal of satisfaction at the time, but in the end nothing had been gained. What had she hoped to do? Force him into saying that she could not marry Sir Preston because he loved her? Or he had no intention of letting her go? Instead, he had become more angry by the moment until he had stalked out.
Why he cared whom she married was beyond her. He did not want to worry Belle, he had made that clear.
Chloe clutched the bouquet tighter. The daisy heads had begun to droop as well. She began to cry.
Chapter Ten
Chloe avoided glancing at herself in the looking glass. She did not want to see her undoubtedly pale face or the lovely gown that she had no desire to wear. She picked up her fan and then looked up when the door opened.
“Oh, my love! How beautiful you look!” Her mother entered the bedchamber, a misty smile on her face. “I still cannot believe that my sweet girl will soon be a married woman!” She traipsed across the room and caught Chloe’s hands, her eyes tearing up as they had frequently ever since her arrival yesterday with Arthur. “You look like an angel. Lord Salcombe will be enchanted, although from all reports he is already quite under your spell.”
There seemed to be no answer other than a sickly smile. Lady Ralston’s brow puckered. “Are you quite well? You have been very quiet since yesterday. I can only imagine how much your feet must hurt! I will not scold you, but I pray you have learned your lesson and will not go about barefooted any longer! I trust your future husband has already persuaded you of that!”
Chloe did not want to discuss Brandt. In fact, she did not even want to think about him. “Shall we go? I suppose I should not be late.”
“Most certainly not.”
The carriage ride with Arthur and her mother was far too short. For once, Arthur actually attempted to engage her in conversation, but she was too nervous to respond. Thank goodness her mother answered for her. Her stomach churned as they halted in the drive. The house was transformed; lights shone from the windows and the overgrown vines and shrubs had been cleared so the front door and ground-floor windows were visible. Arthur helped Lady Ralston and then Chloe from the carriage. She winced as her tender feet touched the ground.
Chloe entered the hall on Arthur’s arm and after Justin and Belle. She had been too preoccupied last time she was here to notice the changes but now, under the gleaming candlelight, she could see the newly polished floor and the gloss of the banister. The footman took her shawl and she, her mother and Arthur were following Justin and Belle up the staircase and to the rooms on the next floor.
Her stomach fluttered as Brandt broke away from the elderly lady at his side to greet them. In his black coat and pantaloons, a diamond gleaming in the folds of his snowy cravat, he was completely elegant, completely male and very disturbing. His eyes met hers and she trembled at the answering surge of awareness she saw in them.
He was not indifferent after all.
He held her gaze as he took her hand. “You have not met my great-aunt, Lady Farrows. She is anxious to meet you.”
He guided her to the elderly lady and Chloe found herself looking into a pair of intelligent grey eyes in a sharply wrinkled face. She took Chloe’s hand. “So you are the young lady who has finally persuaded my nephew to marry. Certainly you are pretty enough. I trust you have some semblance of intelligence as well.”
Lady Farrows released Chloe’s hand. She turned to Brandt. “Since I did not trust you to remember the necklace and ear-rings I have brought them down myself. She should put them on now. Her gown will do very well with them.” She handed him a jeweller’s box.
“I do not think the ballroom is quite the place for Chloe to change her jewellery.”
Lady Farrows waved a hand. “Then take her to another room. There are certainly enough in this monstrosity. I trust you will find one without plaster raining from the ceiling. While you do that, the Duchess, Lady Ralston and I will greet any guests.”
He glanced at Chloe. “We have our orders, it seems.” His expression was rueful.
“Yes.” She found herself smiling at him. She had no idea what to think of Lady Farrows who seemed to speak her mind, but it was somehow so artless that she was not certain if she should be offended or not.
His own lips curved in a smile and for a moment they were in perfect accord. She suddenly looked away, remembering they had no business being in such harmony. He took her arm. “We will return shortly.”
He led her to a small room off the ballroom. “I have found it best not to argue with my aunt in these matters. She always has her way in the end, it seems.”
He opened the box. “I had hoped to avoid giving you this set, but I fear I have no choice. It is a family tradition.”
“I promise I will not lose it and, of course, I will return it to you as soon as possible.”
“Actually, it would be a great favour to future wives if you would lose it. The setting is atrocious and will undoubtedly make you look as if you are wearing a harness collar.” He held the necklace up.
Diamonds and emeralds adorned an intricate gold circle, which was not quite a collar but certainly heavy enough. “It is not too awful,” Chloe said doubtfully. “I am certain it must be very valuable.”
“Yes, and it is never to pass out of the family, otherwise I’ve no doubt it would have been sold long ago or broken up. Do you want me to help you put it on?” His voice was calm and impersonal.
“I might be able to manage.” She undid the clasp to the simple strand of pearls she wore, and set it on the table. Brandt handed her the necklace, but she found the unfamiliar clasp beyond her. She finally gave up. “I must ask for your help.”
“Of course.” He stepped forward and his fingers brushed her nape as he caught the ends of the necklace. A spark shot through her. He fumbled with the clasp; his light touch was making her knees weak. “I have it,” he said, but his hand stilled at the nape of her neck. “Chloe,” he said. “This is impossible.” His voice was husky.
“What is?”
“All of this. This betrothal. Touching you like this. Having you so close and wanting more than anything to kiss you.”
“Oh.” Her heart started to pound. “I…I would not mind if you did.”
“Wouldn’t you? You told me you did not want my kisses.”
“Perhaps I have changed my mind.”
His hands slid to her shoulders and he slowly turned her to face him. “I shouldn’t do this, you know.”
“Why not? We are betrothed.” She held his gaze.
“Last time I frightened you.”
“No, you did not. Not really.” She hardly thought she could breathe.
He slowly lowered his head. His mouth covered hers in a kiss that was so gentle she thought she would melt. She found herself pressing closer to him wanting more. He finally lifted his head. “I forbid you to think about Kentworth.” “No.”
“Good.” He hesitated. “Chloe…”
“I trust you intend to show yourselves to your guests at some point.” Justin’s voice broke into their reverie
.
Chloe jumped back, her cheeks heated. She could hardly meet Justin’s gaze, particularly when he said to Brandt, “You were wrong. It is you who needs to be chaperoned.”
Brandt laughed, but it held genuine amusement. “I think you are right.” He looked at Chloe. “I suppose you must put on the equally atrocious ear-rings so at least you have a matching set.”
She nodded, hardly able to speak. She removed her earrings with shaky fingers. What had just happened? There was the kiss, which had been the most breathtaking thing imaginable, but something else had changed as well. The look in his eye, the gentleness of his touch had promised things even more wonderful.
“The ear-rings, Chloe.” He held them out. “Or should I help you with these as well?”
She coloured. “No, it is not necessary.”
His smile held a hint of wickedness. “I agree. It might be dangerous.”
He was flirting with her again, but instead of annoyance, she felt breathless and vulnerable and happy all at once. She managed to put the ear-rings on. They felt as cool and heavy as the necklace but somehow she did not mind. When he held out his arm, she took it, her fingers trembling very slightly, but it was in anticipation.
She hardly noticed the guests they greeted. She was too aware of the man next to her; the strength of his lean hand, the timbre of his voice, the way his chestnut hair curled at the nape of his neck. Not even Lady Kentworth’s tight smile and angry eyes burst her happy anticipation.
Gilbert Rushton sauntered in. He took Chloe’s hand. “From the besotted expression on your faces, I am surprised you have not escaped the formalities and gone for a romantic moonlight stroll in the garden.”
Brandt glanced at Chloe who felt as if her cheeks were on fire. “I’ve plans for that later,” he said.
“Splendid.” Mr Rushton released her hand and grinned before strolling off.
Chloe did not dare look at Brandt until the musicians struck up the notes of the first set. Belle turned to Chloe. “Under ordinary circumstances you and Brandt would head the first set, but I do not know if you should dance. Not with your feet still so tender.”
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