by Heather Boyd
“Forgive me.” Valentine had been keeping a low profile on purpose. He’d quickly grown weary of the jabs about his loss against Julia Radley, and then in the next breath having to listen to insinuations that Miss Radley was fast outside of the sea, too, which couldn’t be further from the truth. “I trust your children are well.”
“Oh, yes. Edgar is much the same of course. Quite busy with his growing family but I do wish he’d visit more often. My daughter’s become very popular of late and mentioned just the other day how much she misses seeing your sister about town.”
At the mention of his sister, Valentine inwardly groaned. Everyone outside of his friends asked about Melanie but few understood the real reason for her departure. He’d sent her away to keep the peace. “I had a letter from her today and she is quite busy in Oxford. I fear my father has stolen her away from us for some time to come.”
Mrs. Faraday appeared genuinely disappointed, as many Brighton matrons were when he broke the news. “That is a great pity. She was such a strident voice against young ladies who foolishly flouted the conventions required by greater society.”
Strident? Opinionated. Cutting. At times without any trace of tact. Melanie had offended many young women with her words. Especially his friends’ sisters.
Even so, Valentine missed his sister. She had been the most painfully honest person in his life. Having been the one to insist she return home to their parents for a time was a decision he had agonized over ever since.
He toyed with the pocket watch before passing it over when Mrs. Faraday showed interest.
“A lovely piece, sir,” she murmured. “Reminds me of the first piece Mr. Faraday made for me when we became engaged. I carry it in my reticule every time I go out.”
He inclined his head and met Mr. Faraday’s keen gaze. “Do you think my application to join the company will be accepted?”
Faraday studied his teacup. “That is unclear. The company does not adopt many craftsmen in a year and your situation is different than most. Acceptance depends on more than just skill.”
“Oh?”
“Strong family support is vital to all members.”
A chill swept through Valentine at this unexpected emphasis. He’d worked hard to hone his chosen craft but his parents had no idea his hobby had grown to mean so much to him. Father would not approve of his decision to apply to the Worshipful Company of Clockmakers either. The man believed trade was beneath them and expected Valentine to take up a teaching position at the Radcliffe Observatory, Oxford, before too long. Mama would likely fall into a swoon at his impending loss of status.
“A stable and prosperous situation in society is preferred, too,” Faraday murmured. “What affects one affects us all.”
Gooseflesh raced over his skin. “I have lived in Brighton for most of my life. I am well known about Town.”
Faraday arched a brow. “Hmm, perhaps too well known, and for the wrong reasons at present.”
Valentine broke out in a cold sweat. “You are speaking of the race, are you not?”
“I am attempting to warn you that such indiscretions will not be tolerated or dismissed so easily.” Faraday glanced at his wife. “The company has a reputation to uphold. Being defeated by a slip of a girl is less than pleasing to many of the members.”
He glanced at Mrs. Faraday too. The woman was examining her fingers and would not meet his gaze. He had hoped for a sign from her that the matter was not so serious as to ruin his chances entirely.
“Miss Radley is a strong swimmer,” he assured them. He refused to use the word “fast” for the obvious twist everyone seemed to place upon it.
Mr. Faraday grunted. “She should be ashamed of herself.”
Valentine stared hard at Faraday, on the brink of being uncivil. “It was a fair race. Nothing more scandalous than that I assure you.”
“Still. It doesn’t set a good example for you to have been involved,” he warned. “The company will meet to discuss your application next week. I shall let you know the outcome either way.”
Faraday stood and held out his hand for Valentine to shake. The sudden dismissal had a ring of finality to it he did not like. Would Valentine be denied his wish to obtain their support for his work just because he accepted and lost a challenge?
She’d been a worthy opponent and he’d done his best. He’d not been able to match her zeal and catch her that day.
He tucked his mantel clock under his arm and reached for the pocket watch Mrs. Faraday toyed with. When he took it, Mrs. Faraday climbed to her feet. She followed him toward the front door while her husband remained behind sipping his tea.
Once in the hallway, she glanced behind them and then drew close. “The company really only admits married men to their ranks, or those soon to be married.”
The whispered warning came as a shock. “I’ve never once heard that before.”
She winced. “It is not really a secret. Most craftsmen do marry young, and your behavior with Miss Julia Radley worries my husband greatly. He supported your application to join the company as a bachelor because of your skill and connections. But even so, with the scandal, I must tell you he has met with considerable resistance.”
“I see. I have no plans to marry.” His craft consumed his every waking moment, which made the time required to pursue a lady to marry a great inconvenience at present. “What else can I do to win their good opinion?”
“If your sister had remained in Brighton, the situation might not be so problematic. Her sudden departure makes it appear she disapproves of what you’ve done.” She grasped his arm. “Without her presence to win the company over completely, then you must propose marriage to Miss Radley as soon as possible.”
“We have only ever been good neighbors. I hardly know her. I will not marry a woman just to suit the company. It is not right.” Valentine’s heart pounded. It wasn’t the first time someone had suggested he must marry Julia to wipe away the scandal of the contest. It was, however, the first time anyone had suggested that marrying Julia might be in his own best interests. “I thank you for your candor, Mrs. Faraday. Good evening.”
“Good luck, sir.” She eased the door shut behind him.
Outside, a dense fog had crept over Brighton, and knowing his home so well, he made his way to Cavendish Place without deviation, cursing under his breath. He would not tie himself to Julia just to improve his own situation. She was too young, too excitable for the quiet and serious life he wished to live. She wasn’t interested in him as a man either, except to use as a method of proving a woman could be as fast and as strong. In that alone were their goals aligned. He had been proud of her achievement, even if her success was entirely unconventional.
He let himself into his home and sighed. No, marriage to Julia wouldn’t suit either of their temperaments or needs.
“Valentine?” The query spun him about.
His cousin, Teresa Long, stood on the stairs, her hand to her throat, her dark-blonde hair down and falling over one shoulder. She had stayed behind in Brighton when his sister had returned to the family. The sea air was better for Teresa’s constitution than anywhere else and she made few demands on his time, save for the occasional request of an escort to an entertainment with friends.
He removed his hat and hung it beside the door. “What are you still doing up, cousin? I told you I would be late home tonight.”
“I couldn’t sleep. The house is always too quiet when you go out. I could not bear to close my eyes until you came home again.”
Teresa had revealed a startling timidity since his sister had gone away—small things that had previously escaped his notice seemed to set her nerves on edge. She started at strange creaks the house made from time to time. Waking him when she believed she’d heard a knock at the door or a window rattle. When he went out to his workshop, she usually visited him once a night just because she imagined a shadow from the window. Hiding what he was doing out there had proved a difficulty. Melanie’s absence had c
hanged Teresa, and not in a way he could accept.
“I’m sorry Melanie is not here to soothe you when I’m about my business. I regret having to send her away, especially tonight.” She might have helped him decide what to do next.
“I’m sure you had very good reasons for your decision. She assures me in her letters that she is quite content in Oxford. You don’t have to worry about her anymore.” Teresa smiled. “You seem troubled, Valentine. You can confide in me as well as you could in her. We are almost brother and sister. You can tell me anything and I’d never betray you.”
“Thank you.” Only Melanie understood the true reason behind his desire in applying to the company for membership and become a businessman. He wished more than anything in his life to get out from under the yoke of his parents’ expectations. He needed his independence, and going into trade would secure that. Melanie understood their restrictive conventions wore him down more every year.
However, he’d never once revealed his ambitions to go into trade to his cousin, and he hesitated to tell her now. “Well, I’m home. Off to bed with you.”
She drew close and smiled up at him. As was their habit, he extended his cheek and her lips brushed against his skin lightly. “Good night, Val.”
“Pleasant dreams.”
She crept upstairs slowly, nightgown and robe lifted above her ankles and clear of the treads. Valentine averted his eyes and, when her bedchamber door rattled, he made his way outside to his workshop for another few hours of toil. He glanced up as he crossed the yard. The fog had drifted away and it would be a fine night for stargazing if the activity still suited his interests. He hadn’t touched a telescope in over a year, not since he’d promised himself he’d go into business as a clockmaker.
As he approached the door, he couldn’t mistake the glow of light around the doorframe, and grew alarmed. An intruder? He picked up a garden spade from beside the vegetable patch and cautiously pushed on the door.
He glanced around, looking for signs of life.
A slender figure, outlined by the glow of a candle, rose from his workbench chair. “Good evening, Mr. Merton.”
He knew that voice very well, unfortunately, and dropped the spade to hurry inside. “Miss Radley?”
She moved toward him eagerly but Valentine took a step backward to keep a distance between them. “How did you get in here, and why?”
“The key is easy to find and I thought you’d be stargazing tonight. I was going to look at the stars while I waited but I cannot see a telescope anywhere.”
“You wouldn’t see a thing in the sky with the lamp lit,” he warned her. “You’ll have to go.”
She set her hands to her hips. “For the last time, it was only a race. Hardly scandalous. You do not need to avoid me like I am diseased. Can we not be friends again?”
“We cannot ever be friends.”
“That’s ridiculous. We have always been friends.” Her eyes narrowed. “Or have you only been my brother’s friend and merely tolerated my company?”
“It is not that.” He hated to hurt her feelings but the truth was best. “Simply put, the more we are seen together, the more talk will be stirred up. To be found together and alone is disastrous. The talk would not be kind to you.”
The hurt in her eyes took his breath away. Julia had never learned to school her emotions. What she felt was written all over her face for anyone to read.
“So it is true what they say. You are embarrassed to have lost to me.” She covered her mouth with one hand, and then squared her shoulders. Her eyes lost their usual mischievous sparkle. “It must batter your pride to have lost to a female as foolish as I,” she accused him in a voice tinged with anger.
He caught her arms before her voice grew any louder and eased her toward the door, intending to push her out. He did not want them to be caught together, alone in his workshop. Not after all the terrible things said about her around town. Not after listening to her brother rant and rage every single day for the past three months. “Stop right there and we can talk tomorrow.”
She tried to shake off his grip. “Tomorrow you will ignore me again and I’ve had enough of that.”
The best thing for her was to go. He pushed her harder toward the door.
In the candlelight, her eyes widened and she resisted him. “I thought you were a gentleman. Unhand me!”
“I’m not in the mood for misunderstandings, Miss Radley. You simply must leave.”
Her hands lifted to curl about his biceps and squeeze. The discomfort her digging fingers inflicted was a surprise. Julia was stronger than he’d expected—and then he was the one being moved. They wrestled for dominance a moment but unless he wanted to risk hurting her, they were reasonably matched. He took a breath. “Why do you provoke me?”
“I’m not.” And yet she did not let go of his arms. “I don’t believe that because you are a man, you must be obeyed at all times. Linus is just as overbearing.”
“I’m nothing like Linus and you know it.” Frustrated by her obstinacy, he jerked her against him.
Julia landed against his chest, her fingers pinched into his arms as she stared up at him.
Her lips parted in surprise. “Valentine?”
“Must you always be so bloody stubborn?”
“But we’re not done speaking.” Her eyes flashed with fire again, the same spark of life and excitement that had convinced him to accept her dare.
He nudged the door shut with his foot instead of throwing her out and pressed her back against the door. “God help us both if my cousin spots us together.”
“Teresa would say nothing about it once I explained why I am here.”
“Why are you here? You know what people will say about us if we are found.” As he stared at her, a sudden urge to bend her to his will overtook him. She was wild, and a firm hand could tame her. The idea took hold as he stared into her glorious green eyes.
Could the reason she pursued him like this be that she’d grown to like him?
There had been a time he’d wondered about her. One summer she’d fluttered her eyelashes at him in a dazzling manner that might have meant she had a spec of dirt in her eye, but later he’d realized could have meant something entirely different. She’d not behaved in that manner since but perhaps she’d just been shy. After the race, he had held her to ease her distress over Imogen. He convinced himself he’d merely offered brotherly comfort.
But I’ve never held my own sister that way.
With Julia so close now, he had a perfect opportunity to discover the state of her heart and his own.
He leaned forward, aiming to brush his lips across hers.
They touched; a delicate brush that sent his pulse racing. Yes!
Then, faster than he could think, she took his feet out from under him and he fell hard to the workshop floor.
Valentine groaned and remained where he landed, a blush climbing his cheeks.
He had not known she could topple a man, but given how strong she had proved to be, he should have expected he’d be rebuffed. “What was that for?”
She stood over him, hands on her hips. “Don’t you dare try to change the subject.”
“I wasn’t. It occurred to me tonight that there might be another reason you keep smiling at me so often.”
She glared. “I want you and my brother to be friends again.”
“I can do without a friend who acts and speaks as he does. But you are an entirely different matter.” He made himself comfortable, shoving aside a scrap of discarded timber that was digging into his aching backside. As much as he’d like to make another attempt to steal a proper kiss, he conceded he was probably safer where he was sitting for the moment. “You’ve come to see me alone, at night, and think yourself my equal. Perhaps we should be in all things. You know what people will assume.”
“They can assume anything they like. We know what happened.”
He scratched his head. That kiss. That brief kiss had affected him indeed. “I
think we have but one choice—and I dare you to marry me to prevent any further scandal.”
Her eyes rounded and she threw his workshop apron hard at his head.
His last sight of Julia was a pair of lean calves as she hitched up her skirts to run back home.
Three
Julia glanced about the foreshore, noticing the attention her presence caused. Some men were staring at her, some turned away. The women were whispering again, trying not at all to hide the fact that she was the topic under discussion between them. The gap between approval and disgust was palpable. She smiled up at Anthony Linden and hoped he didn’t notice or pay any attention to her detractors. “Would you care to join us for a stroll?”
The corners of Anthony’s mouth turned down. “If only I had the leisure, I would be very happy to accompany you all. However, I’m to meet with a friend to discuss an expedition. We mean to conquer Scafell Pike next summer.”
“So you are going to the Lakes District? How wonderful.” The possibilities of the expedition were endless and Julia stepped forward eagerly. Adventure, achievement. The challenge of success. “I meant to tell you earlier that we have old friends who live not far from there. I will write to them immediately and give them the good news to expect a visit.”
“It’s a dangerous undertaking,” Imogen cautioned.
Anthony beamed, his eyes filled with zeal and excitement. “What good is a challenge that isn’t even attempted, Lady Watson? We fellows are a determined lot.”
Imogen lightly grasped Julia’s hand and tugged. The subtle pressure to step back from Anthony was clear but she evaded her friend. “Indeed, yes.”
Sir Peter Watson grinned. “And who is joining you on this madcap expedition?”
Julia held her breath. Linus was fit enough to go with them if he could be convinced the adventure was worth the time. If Linus went, she would surely earn an invitation to join them, since she’d be properly chaperoned in her brother’s company. She could just see herself, scaling the heights, enjoying the clearest views in England with Anthony Linden at her side. It would be wonderful to get away from Brighton and her detractors.