The concept was so disheartening, she had to push it out of her mind for fear of breaking down and weeping. Just when she’d discovered her passion, to have it whisked away so abruptly, and by a devious witch like Lady Pomfry…
Well it was all too unjust to consider. So she simply wouldn’t.
Instead, she would focus on what a saint Prescott had been. Catering to her every need, bringing her a hundred different drinks until he found something that she could hold down, reading to her, taking her outside for some fresh air while the maids cleaned her rooms.
He’d insisted that the bed chamber be scrubbed and the sheets changed, thankfully eliminating the horrible odors associated with her malady. He’d said that he knew from past experience that smell alone could exacerbate her nausea. His ability to put himself into her shoes was astonishing.
And yet through it all, he hadn’t kissed or touched her in any way different than he would a sister. She hungered for his lips, longed for his musky male scent, and yearned for the feel of his hard body pressing against hers.
And deplorably, he seemed completely oblivious to her as a woman. She was a patient in need of caring, a friend in need of company, but not a woman in need of her man. She was being utterly selfish, she knew, but she couldn’t help it. She wanted him to desire her, madly, hungrily and with the deep abiding passion that she felt for him.
But she wasn’t about to press the issue. It would be like asking a man why he didn’t send flowers. Once the criticism was out there, then any gesture he made would be seen as insincere. Where was the good in that? The only thing Edwina could do was be grateful for Prescott’s kindness. How utterly demoralizing.
“Come now, drink it,” Prescott urged, pulling Edwina from her gloomy woolgathering. “Or I will have Janelle force you to take it, and you know what a martinet she can be.”
“My, aren’t you bossy.” She raised a brow, pretending that her heart wasn’t breaking. “One would think you might be a little bit sweeter to a poisoning victim.” She forced a smile to let him know that she was only teasing.
“I really appreciate all you’ve done for me, Prescott. These last few hours have been, well, better off forgotten. But I’ll never forget your thoughtfulness. I want you to know how much I appreciate your kindness.”
He shrugged. “You would have done the same for me.”
“Of course. But that doesn’t diminish the significance of your thoughtfulness.” She sipped from the lukewarm drink. It was dreadful, but settled her stomach as nothing else would. “I just hope that you’re still not blaming yourself for what happened.”
“You seem determined not to let me.” He smiled, but there was a sadness in his gaze that pinched at her heart.
She couldn’t help herself, reaching across the small table, she squeezed his hand. “Please don’t. It’s hard enough feeling wretched without being guilt-ridden for somehow being responsible for making you feel to blame.”
“That makes me feel even guiltier!” His face was stern but his tone was joking.
“If I agree to discard my guilt, then will you as well?”
“Deal.” Smiling, he stood and leaned over, kissing her parted lips so sweetly, she almost swooned.
Relief whipped through her along with an exhilarating thrill.
He still desires me!
The smells and sights of the last few hours might have cowed a lesser man. But Prescott Devane was no ordinary man! Thank the heavens.
Raking his hand through her loose curls, he murmured, “Oh, how I’ve missed your delicious lips.” He swallowed. “I know the doctor said no exertion, but I don’t think a little kissing would hurt, do you?”
The dear man had been anxious about overexerting her! And all the while she had worried that he no longer desired her. An overwhelming, head-over-heels rush of affection surged through her for this wonderful man.
Reaching up and caressing his smooth, square jaw, Edwina murmured, “I’m feeling much better…and the doctor said that I do need to stay in bed…”
He nibbled her mouth, gently sucking the soft flesh between his lips. “I think I can figure a few ways to keep you lying down, perhaps not quite resting…”
“Ahem.” Someone coughed behind Prescott. “Ahem.” The lady coughed again.
Reluctantly, Prescott pulled away, his blazing eyes meeting hers. “Later,” he whispered, his breath drifting across her ear, causing a shiver.
“Promise?”
“Definitely.” Straightening, he moved aside.
Lady Kendrick stood in the threshold, a businesslike smile on her long oval face. The stout woman was like a ship’s captain, forever in charge and at work, executing her tasks with gusto. Clasping her hands together before her, she declared, “It warms my heart to see the color back in your cheeks, Lady Ross.”
Edwina felt her cheeks burn. “Your gracious hospitality and the thoughtful efficiency of your servants have ensured that my every need has been met. Thank you for everything, my lady.”
“Yes, well, we’d all be better off if the whole mess hadn’t started in the first instance.” The lady scowled. “I don’t know what I was thinking including that dreadful Lady Pomfry in the party.”
Prescott shot Edwina an endearing glance, “As a wise woman once told me, assuming blame only continues the round of guilt and we’d all prefer a round of something much more palatable.”
“Yes, well.” She grimaced. “My gathering would have been a social success had I not invited that woman. And as it stands, well…”
Prescott scratched his chin. “I hate to say it, my lady, but you will likely come out of this misadventure with a reputation for throwing memorable parties.”
The matron’s face lit up. “I hadn’t thought of it that way!”
“Moreover, not only will everyone hear about what happened to Edwina, but they will also learn of your gracious hospitality.”
“You do have a talent for looking at the brighter side of things, Mr. Devane!”
A liveried servant entered, bowed to the guests and then whispered something in Lady Kendrick’s ear. The matron nodded to the man and then looked up at them. “If you will excuse me for a moment?”
After she was gone, Edwina grabbed Prescott’s hand, whispering, “I’m starting to feel bad that we’re using this house party to catch the blackmailer, Prescott. I feel like we’re imposing on Lady Kendrick’s gracious hospitality.”
“We didn’t set this stage, if you recall, Edwina. The blackmailer did. And we are doing what we can to keep Lady Kendrick from ever knowing.” He leaned close, keeping a keen eye on the empty doorway. “And since Ginny hasn’t heard from the knave, we have no choice but to continue with our efforts.”
“I wonder why he hasn’t made his demands yet.”
Prescott shrugged. “My guess is he likes to make people squirm. Or mayhap the escapade with Daphne threw off everyone’s schedule, including his?”
“I can’t help but wonder if mayhap Ginny isn’t the only guest who’s here for purposes other than country entertainment. Can there be other blackmail victims amongst the guests?”
“Gather your victims and collect payment much more easily? You may be right. And perhaps that’s why she hasn’t heard from the blackguard. Mayhap she’s lower on the list of targets.”
“All the more reason we must stop this villain. We will have to search more than one room a night—”
Squeezing her hand, his eyes widened. “In all of the chaos, I forgot to tell you!”
“What?”
“First, Sir Lee knows all and is more than willing to help.”
“How wonderful. I like him exceedingly and he certainly brings some valuable skills to the hunt.”
“I like him, too. But there’s something else. Yesterday, before you were poisoned, remember I didn’t leave your room until almost dawn?”
“Oh, I remember,” she breathed, the memory causing her blood to stir.
“Well, during the night someone searche
d my room.”
“What? Did he take anything?”
“No. That’s the strange part. It was as if he was simply looking around. Nothing was missing.”
“Do you think it might have been Lady Pomfry?” Even saying her name caused a vicious twist in Edwina’s middle and she pressed a hand to her tortured belly.
Prescott shook his head. “Daphne would have ravaged my room, not tried to put everything back in its place.”
“Are you sure someone searched? It wasn’t simply the maids?”
“Yes, I’m very particular about the page placement in my Bible. The special bookmark Headmaster Dunn had given me had been moved.”
“A Bible-reading burglar?”
He shrugged with a smile. “Odder things have been known to happen.”
“So what do you think the searcher was looking—Lady Kendrick!”
Prescott straightened, still grasping Edwina’s hand.
The matron’s smile was apologetic. “Pardon my absence, but I just learned we have a new arrival. One who I’d been hoping would have arrived sooner. But he’s here now, so all is well.”
“Who is it?”
Lady Kendrick beamed. “The Earl of Wootton-Barrett. Your father.”
Edwina felt her stomach lurch, and it wasn’t the antimony salts.
“I must go make preparations. He waits in the parlor off the garden. If you will excuse me.” Turning, the matron strode from the room, her steps purposeful.
“Are you all right, Edwina?” Prescott crouched before her. “You look pale. Do you feel ill?”
“Yes. But no. It’s not the salts.” She shook her head, bewildered. “It’s just, well, I knew I’d have to face my father at some point. It was part of the plan. But I didn’t expect him to race halfway across the country to do it.” She bit her lip. “I thought I’d have more time…”
“He must be very upset,” Prescott muttered, adjusting his cravat as if it was too tight. His handsome face was marred with unease and his eyes were clouded with disquiet. “Are you going to tell him that it’s over?”
“No.” Shaking her head, she clutched his hand tighter. “No, I meant what I said, I want us to stay together. Do…you?”
“Yes, of course, but breaking off the engagement was the plan. Then your father would be so relieved that you and I didn’t marry that he’d leave you alone.”
Rising, Edwina released his hand and moved to stand before the window. Staring out, she crossed her arms, hugging herself. “I think, well, I think that my plan was a bit…infantile. If I want to stand up to my father, then I need to do it and not hide behind a sham engagement or make up things that will detract from what I’m truly trying to do, namely stake my claim for independence. I’m a grown woman, for heaven’s sake. I need to start behaving like one.”
“But if you don’t break off the engagement, then your father will be furious.”
“I’ll not submit to his intimidation. His wants should not influence how I live my life. Mine should. And I’m not willing to let you go.”
“But at what cost?”
She looked up. “What do you mean?”
“He’s your father. You should keep peace between you.”
“Not at the risk of losing my sense of self.” She shook her head. “This isn’t about you, Prescott, it’s about me and my father. You’re simply the reason that brought me and my father face-to-face, but this stand is long overdue.”
“But can’t you see his side of it? He believes what he wants is best for you. That you should marry well, have a solid future…”
“Those are the very reasons why I married Sir Geoffrey, and I was miserable. Granted, our temperaments weren’t well suited, which bears witness to the fact that my father doesn’t understand me, not one whit. Else he never would have chosen Sir Geoffrey for me.” Sighing, she rubbed her hand down her arm, to comfort herself. “But I suppose it’s to be expected. My father has never understood me, or what makes me happy. He’s always seen me as a bit of an oddity, someone to be ‘managed’ because of my ‘abnormal tendencies.’”
“He said that?” Shock shimmered in his emerald gaze, quickly replaced by anger. “‘Abnormal tendencies’?”
“Oh, yes and much more. Which is why I usually wind up crying and behaving in a somewhat immature fashion when he begins one of his diatribes. I feel like I’m eleven years old once more and he’s scolding me for liking to sit and talk with Nana, the woman who ran the dairy.”
“You’re not going to face him without me.”
She looked up. “Thank you, Prescott. But I can’t stand up for myself with you standing up for me. Does that make any sense?”
Stepping forward, Prescott clasped her hands. “I want to be your knight and protector, Edwina. For you I would slay dragons, including irascible earls.”
She smiled, touched by his gallantry and knowing that he meant every word. “This is one battle I must fight on my own, Prescott. It’s been mostly my fault for not facing my father sooner. It was easier to skirt around the conflict and not clash with him. I suppose in the same way that I went along with everything Sir Geoffrey and the dowager wanted. I let them either walk over me or influence my every step. It’s time for me to start walking on my own.”
Drawing her close, he wrapped his arms around her. “But you have been walking on your own. You established The Society for the Enrichment and Learning of Females—”
“But it’s not the same. I did it without my parents knowing about it until after it had been established. I hid it, Prescott. I hid what I was doing from them, for fear that they might try to stop me, and succeed.” Hugging him close, she inhaled his familiar musky scent and took comfort from his support.
“But you didn’t kowtow to them once you’d succeeded. And what of your business ventures?”
“My parents don’t know about what I’m doing with Henry. It’s all on the sly. It’s time that I stopped hiding, Prescott. It’s time for me to start living the life I want to live without cowering in fear. Or hiding behind a lie. I want to be more like you, Prescott, making no excuses for being who I am.”
He tensed. “But what if the consequences are too much for you to bear, Edwina? What if your father cuts you off? Not financially, but well, everything…”
“Like your grandfather did to your mother?” she asked gently.
“Yes. I’m not worth losing your family over, Edwina. Family is everything.” He swallowed. “If you lost them because of me, if you were cut off, well, I would never forgive myself.”
She sighed. “I can’t live my life by ‘what-ifs,’ Prescott. I need to find out what I’m truly made of. And how much my father loves me. And there’s only one way to do that: face the Earl of Wootton-Barrett.”
Chapter 32
Standing in the shadow of a large oak tree, Prescott raked his hand through his hair and stared at the closed French doors to the parlor.
Blast! He couldn’t see a thing with the sun reflecting off the glass doors and Edwina and her father having moved to the other side of the room.
“So you’re a Peeping Tom, now, eh?”
Prescott jumped. “Oh, Sir Lee. You startled me.”
With his gold-topped cane, Sir Lee strolled down the garden lane to where Prescott stood in the shade. “I presume Lady Ross is in there with her father.”
Prescott nodded. “She…well, she said that she wanted to face the firing squad on her own.”
“Firing squad, eh?” The old gent’s gray brows lifted as he tucked his thin cigar into his mouth and puffed. Smoke billowed around him in a pungent cloud. “Wootton-Barrett does like to ride roughshod over people.”
“I should be in there…”
“Then why aren’t you? You’re not feeling toothless, are you?”
“I want to respect her wishes…”
Sir Lee snorted. “Now I know you’re in love.” Pulling a thin cigar from his coat pocket, he held it out, offering his own as a light. “Smoke?”
; “No thanks. It would be a waste of a fine cigar.” What is going on in there? Reaching down, he grabbed his watch fob and clicked open the gold timepiece for the tenth time. It’s been seven minutes already, yet it feels like three hours.
“As you please.” The old gent stuffed the cigar back into his pocket. Leaning on his cane, he jerked his chin toward the French doors. “So you think the Earl of Wootton-Barrett is a mite upset about your engagement to Lady Ross?”
“Why else would he race across the country on horseback?”
Pursing his lips around the cigar, Sir Lee puffed. “Why else indeed.”
“I bet he hardly even stopped to water his horse, unable to wait to rake Edwina over the coals for cavorting with the likes of me. Can’t sully the bloodlines, can we?”
“Is she telling him that the engagement is off?”
“No. She wants to make a stand…that this isn’t about me. But she should be telling him that it’s over, for at some point or another, she’ll come to regret this whole affair. She’ll come to regret…choosing me.” Prescott moved toward the doors. “I won’t let her destroy her life…”
Sir Lee grabbed his arm. “Isn’t that her choice to make?”
He shook his head. “I love her too much to watch her come to despise me. And she will, for staying with me will cost her everything. And that I cannot bear.”
Shrugging off the old man, Prescott stormed the French doors and burst into the parlor.
Edwina’s back was to him as she faced her father. A lesser woman would have been cowering in the corner when confronting the burly black-haired bellowing giant that was Wootton-Barrett. With his high black hat, pea green coat and darkened features he loomed over Edwina like a Goliath.
Edwina turned, her eyes red-rimmed and her lower lip quivering, yet she hadn’t shed a tear. You show him your mettle!
The earl looked up and his eyes, black as coals on a broad craggy face, widened, then narrowed as they fixed on Prescott. “You must be the devil’s spawn I’ve been hearing about!”
Sari Robins - [Andersen Hall Orphanage] Page 26