The Most to Lose

by Landon, Laura

  “Why, Lady Cecelia,” he said when he could speak, “one would almost think you were jealous.”

  Cecelia looked at him for a second or two, then lowered her gaze to her lap.

  He wished he could take back his comment as soon as the words left his mouth. From the expression on her face, he’d said the worst possible thing he could say. Her words confirmed it.

  “I’m sorry, Lord Haywood. My comment was totally uncalled for. I don’t have the right to give the impression I am jealous.”

  She was nervous, and Jonah hated that he’d made her so uncomfortable.

  “Charlene Cushman is the epitome of grace and refinement,” she continued in a rush. “She comes from one of the best families in society and will bring with her a very handsome dowry. She will make some fortunate man the perfect wife.”

  Jonah leaned back and let the horses move at a slow, steady pace. “Is that what you think I am doing?”

  He glanced down and noticed that she was rubbing the material of her gown between the thumb and first two fingers of her free hand. He smiled at the nervous habit.

  “You are the Earl of Haywood now. It is your duty to secure your title.”

  A thought struck him that sent a wave of unease down his spine. “Is that why you think I invited you today? Did you think my purpose was to use your name and position to gain an introduction to society’s eligible young females?”

  Her slight hesitation was answer enough for him.

  “It is a wonder you agreed to accompany me,” he interjected before she could come up with an answer to give him. “Why did you?”

  She turned her head and lifted her chin. The expression in her eyes was filled with steely courage, and Jonah admired her more in that instance than he thought possible.

  “I agreed to accompany you because I wanted to,” she said, her voice containing not a hint of fear. Or intimidation. “I took your invitation as a compliment, partly because you had the courage to ask me, even though you knew what my brother’s reaction would probably be, and partly because there are any number of other females you could have asked, but didn’t.”

  Something shifted inside his chest. “Now, would you like to hear the real reason I invited you?”

  They paused long enough to nod to a passing carriage that contained two young couples. When they were alone again, he continued.

  “I invited you because, after meeting you last night, I wanted to spend an hour or so in your company.”

  She didn’t lower her gaze, but the look in her eyes changed.

  “You don’t believe me, do you?”

  She hesitated again, and Jonah realized that even though she was a very strong-willed person, there was a softness to her that wasn’t comfortable with confrontation.

  “I don’t lie, Lady Cecelia.”

  “Yes, you do,” she said so quietly he wasn’t sure he’d heard her correctly.

  Jonah’s heart jolted inside his chest. He maneuvered his carriage to the nearest turnoff, then pulled the horses to a halt. “Would you care to explain that?”

  He turned in his seat, placed his index finger beneath her chin, and turned her face enough that she was forced to look him in the eyes.

  She breathed a heavy sigh that lifted and lowered her breasts. The movement drew his attention, even though he didn’t want to be attracted by such a movement.

  “What lie do you think I have told you?”

  She tried to turn her head, but he kept his finger against her cheek, making it impossible for her to look away from him. She breathed another sigh, then gave up her attempt to look away. When she spoke, the tone of her voice was filled with resignation.

  “Very well,” she said. “I see you are going to force me to be painfully honest with you.”

  “It is the only way it should be between two people who are destined to become friends.”

  Her brows furrowed. “Destined?”

  “Yes, destined. But I’ll not have you avoid answering my question by asking one of your own. I would first have you explain what lies I have told.”

  “Actually, there have been two…that I’ve noticed.”

  He couldn’t hide his surprise. “Two?”

  “Yes. The first was last night when you asked me to accompany you today because my presence would help ease your way back into society.”

  “You consider that a lie?”

  “Your presence is already assured, Lord Haywood.”

  “Jonah. Please, call me Jonah.”

  “Very well. Jonah. The truth is that your place was assured when you arrived at Lady Plimpton’s ball. You are a nobleman, the Earl of Haywood, and a decorated war hero. When my brother didn’t turn his back on you or make a premature departure, as he did three years ago, your entry was assured. The statement his actions made to society was that, even though the two of you may never be on friendly terms, the Duke of Hadleigh will at least tolerate your presence at society’s social affairs.”

  Celie moved her gaze to scan the perimeter of Hyde Park. She seemed focused on something in the distance that he’d wager wasn’t there.

  “I would also venture,” she continued, “that your butler has been busy all morning answering the door to collect the invitations that are arriving at an alarming rate. None of society’s hostesses will pass up the opportunity to invite to her upcoming event a wounded war hero as well as a most eligible bachelor.”

  She lifted her gaze, and Jonah found himself looking into the warmest, yet saddest, smile he’d ever seen on anyone’s face.

  “And the second lie?” he asked, unable to argue with anything she’d said thus far.

  “The second lie you told just a few moments ago when you told Lady Cushman and Charlene that they had nothing to worry over. That you were completely healed.”

  Her expression filled with compassion, and Jonah felt his blood turn warm.

  “You’re not healed. In fact, you’re in a great deal of pain right now. The way your breath caught and you pressed your arm to your side earlier evidenced it.”

  “You’re very observant,” he commented, leaning back against the leather cushion to relax.

  “Hadleigh tells me the same,” she said with a smile on her face, “but he never means it as a compliment.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Surely you know that no man is impressed with a woman who proves that there’s something more than air between her ears.”

  Jonah laughed again. “I’ve never considered that. I’ve always admired women who could think for themselves.”

  She looked surprised. “Do you know how progressive that makes you sound?”

  “Is that a point in my favor or against?”

  “That, Lord Haywood, de—”

  “Jonah,” he corrected her.

  “Jonah. Yes, well, that depends on whom you ask.”

  Jonah studied her for a moment and was struck by her thoughtfulness. She was not at all shallow, like most of society’s other females. Like Melisande had been.

  The moment she noticed him watching her, she changed.

  “Perhaps we should continue on our way,” she said. “Or do you need a moment more to rest?”

  “I’m fine.”

  A glimpse of doubt clouded her eyes.

  “Truly, I am. It’s only every once in a while that my wound refuses to be forgotten.”

  “How did it happen?” she asked after he’d flicked the reins against the horses’ rumps and turned them around to continue through the park.

  “Not very heroically, I’m afraid. I didn’t move fast enough when an enemy charged.”

  “But you moved fast enough to put yourself between the enemy and Lady Plimpton’s nephew.”

  Jonah saw the concern on her face and prayed he did an adequate job of hiding the terror that still engulfed him when he relived that event. “We were both fortunate that day.”

  “Does it bother you to talk about it?”

  Jonah was stunned by her question
. No one asked him that. No one cared. They only wanted to hear every bloody, gruesome detail concerning the war.

  The problem was, no one who had experienced war’s horrors ever wanted to relive one moment of them.

  If the other men fortunate enough to return from the war were like him, they did enough remembering every night when the nightmares started; enough remembering when their screams woke them and they bolted upright in bed, soaked in perspiration; enough remembering when, even in the depths of an alcohol-induced sleep, they could hear their comrades’ screams of agony and pain. Along with their own.

  For Jonah, the earth still trembled beneath him as the enemy’s mammoth horse bore down on him, its rider brandishing a once-gleaming deadly saber, now stained with the blood of an untold number of dead and dying.

  Jonah closed his eyes for the briefest of seconds but could not afford to keep them closed. If he did, he’d hear the swishing sound of the saber as it sliced through the air, feel the steel as it separated his sinewy flesh, sense the lifeblood flowing from his veins as the strength drained from his body.

  Jonah pressed his hand to his side as he’d done that day in a vain attempt to keep the blood from rushing out, then dropped his hand beside him on the seat.

  He hoped Celie hadn’t noticed.

  “The war was a lifetime ago,” he said as flippantly as he could manage. “It’s easy to forget the worst of it once you return to the peaceful surroundings in England.”

  She smiled at him, but her eyes spoke volumes. “And that, my lord,” she said as she snapped her parasol open in a queenly manner and rested it against her shoulder, “is the third lie you’ve told in less than one day’s time.”

  She’d tipped her chin upward and let the sun shine on her face. No wonder her face had a hint of bronze to it. She didn’t practice the same abhorrence to the effects of the sun as the rest of society.

  “Perhaps my statement was a slight exaggeration. But not intended as a lie.”

  “I’m sure it wasn’t. It was probably only intended to be a statement to keep people from knowing how deeply you were affected by the tragedies of war. So far, all your lies have been barriers you erect to keep people from getting too close.”

  For a few seconds, they drove on in silence; then, in a soft voice that held a great deal of strength, she said, “I can’t pretend to ever understand what you went through during the war, but if you ever feel the need to talk to someone, I would be more than willing to listen. Even Hadleigh admits I’m passable as an adequate listener.”

  Jonah couldn’t believe the effect of her words. The moment she finished speaking, he felt as if an unbearable pressure had been lifted from his chest.

  A gentle hand wrapped around his heart, easing the raw pain that had been his constant companion since he’d returned. So few understood what everyone who’d fought in the war had endured. Even fewer cared.

  But Lady Cecelia did. She cared how he felt, both physically and emotionally.

  He couldn’t explain what that meant to him.

  He looked ahead as another carriage approached them. He and Celie nodded in greeting, but he didn’t pull up to talk to them.

  “You should have stopped,” Celie said, glancing at him. “That was the Marchioness of Portwood and her daughter Lady Felicity. Lady Felicity is extremely eligible and quite sought after.”

  Jonah looked down on her and smiled. “Why would I want to waste time talking to the marchioness and her daughter when I have the perfect companion sitting next to me?”

  He couldn’t stop the laughter that wanted to erupt from him. The surprised expression on her face was priceless.

  He turned his attention to the horses and gave them a gentle nudging to pick up their step. They had been traveling one of the paths frequented by the members of the ton who wanted to avoid being seen. Suddenly, he wanted to be where everyone would see him. He turned onto the main thoroughfare.

  He wanted to let everyone know that Lady Cecelia Randolph had agreed to accompany him…

  And that he considered himself the luckiest man in London.

  Chapter 4

  Celie squeezed through the crowd milling around Lady Cushing’s music room and made her way to the empty chair Amanda had saved for her. There was still time before the musicale began, but she’d wanted to arrive early to get a seat near the front. Tonight’s entertainment promised to be superb, and everyone would want to be as close to the performer as possible.

  “Have you ever heard Miss Zunderman sing?” Celie asked when she took her seat next to Amanda. She scanned the crowd and saw that almost everyone who was anyone was here.

  “No. I can’t believe the famous Miss Zunderman agreed to sing for Lady Cushing in such an intimate setting. Rumor has it she only agrees to stage performances.”

  “Hadleigh said Lady Cushing and Miss Zunderman were acquaintances in their youth. He said that—”

  Amanda turned toward Celie and grabbed her hand. “Enough of this trivia, Celie. Tell me about your drive with Lord Haywood yesterday afternoon while we still have some privacy to talk.”

  Celie took note of the empty chairs surrounding them and scanned the area to make sure they couldn’t be overheard. “It was very pleasant. I had a wonderful time.”

  Amanda’s eyes opened wide and her mouth dropped a few inches. “That’s all you have to say? It was very pleasant and you had a wonderful time?”

  “Well, yes. What more would you like me to say?”

  “Did he ask to take you driving again? Did he say he would like to call on you? Did he say when?”

  Celie tried to keep her expression emotionless as her gaze met Amanda’s. The two of them were best friends, and Amanda could read her like an open book.

  Amanda’s gaze narrowed. The sky-blue gown she wore matched the color of her eyes to perfection. Combined with her creamy, smooth complexion and the perfect curves of her body, Amanda was an absolute beauty.

  Truth be told, Celie couldn’t figure out why Amanda didn’t have to fight off suitors, although losing her best friend to matrimony wouldn’t be easy to bear. Amanda was far prettier than half the females in society. Only the glasses she was forced to wear detracted from her otherwise perfectly delicate features.

  Perhaps she wasn’t wed already because she was as expert at discouraging suitors as Celie was. More than one suitable male had asked for Amanda’s hand, but she’d always declined their offers. Fortunately, Amanda’s brother hadn’t forced her to accept anyone—yet.

  Celie considered for a moment the possibility that Amanda was perhaps in love with someone already and fled that possibility in the back of her mind. That was a question she’d have to ask her friend when they were alone.

  “Well?” Amanda asked again. “Did he say anything that might indicate his feelings?”

  “No. He simply said…” Celie paused.

  “Said what?”

  Amanda leaned closer, anxious to have Celie tell her what Jonah had said.

  “Well, we both know Lord Haywood only asked me to accompany him at the fashionable hour to gain introductions to society’s most eligible females.”

  “No,” Amanda answered, pulling her hands away from Celie’s and dropping them into her lap with a heavy sigh. “We don’t know anything of the sort. At least, I don’t know anything of the sort. It’s you who’s come to that conclusion all on your own.”

  “Because it’s true,” Celie added.

  “Well, we could argue all day on that point, but right now, I’m more interested in what Lord Haywood said.”

  Celie’s cheeks warmed and she found herself embarrassed to admit to her best friend what he’d said. “Nothing that held any significance. It’s simply that, when I saw Lady Portwood and Felicity drive toward us, I told him to stop so I could introduce him to Felicity. Felicity will, after all, come with a huge dowry, and that is exactly what Lord Haywood needs.”

  “Did he stop?”

  “No, he only greeted them with a polite nod
.”

  “What did he say, Celie? Hurry, tell me,” Amanda demanded with an excited giggle.

  “He asked why he should waste time talking to the marchioness and her daughter when…”

  “When what?”

  Celie found repeating Jonah’s compliment very embarrassing.

  “What? Hurry!”

  “He said something about stopping would be a waste of time when he already had the perfect companion sitting next to him.”

  Amanda clamped her hand over her mouth and muffled a squeal of delight. “Did he say if he would be here tonight?” Amanda scanned the room in search of him.

  “No, he won’t be here. Lord Haywood is aware of Hadleigh’s love for music. Haywood knows he’s sure to be here. It was one thing for them to ignore each other’s presence at Lady Plimpton’s ball, but another altogether to have to tolerate each other in such an intimate setting.”

  “Did your brother say anything after Lady Plimpton’s ball? Everyone saw you speaking to the earl on the terrace.”

  Celie shook her head. “I expected him to fly into a rage, but he didn’t mention it. Not even at breakfast the next morning.”

  Amanda’s eyes opened wide. “And he allowed you to accompany Haywood for a drive?”

  Celie smiled, knowing she had a Cheshire cat grin on her face. “I didn’t tell him I’d accepted Haywood’s invitation, and he wasn’t home when Haywood arrived. Although I can’t believe he hasn’t heard by now.”

  “Oh, Celie,” Amanda said with a giggle. “You’re amazing.”

  “No, I’m just very independent. Haven’t you realized that by now?”

  “Yes, but I wasn’t sure your independence was a match for the hatred Hadleigh harbors toward the Earl of Haywood.” She paused with a frown on her face. “Do you think he isn’t quite so bitter anymore?”

  “One can only hope. Perhaps if Jonah goes slowly and doesn’t force Hadleigh to accept him immediately, he might have a chance.”

  Amanda paused, then rolled her eyes heavenward. “Then I predict the earl doesn’t have a prayer of succeeding.”

  Amanda’s voice had a doleful tone to it and the furrows between her eyes grew deeper as she focused her gaze on something over Celie’s shoulder.