A Heart So Innocent

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A Heart So Innocent Page 5

by Charlene Cross


  Yes! she insisted, bounding from the side of her bed to pace the floor again. She disliked him—immensely! The arrogant boor!

  A knock sounded on her door, and an agitated Aidan called sharply, “What is it!”

  “Lady Manley has come callin’,” her maid, Penny, answered through the heavy wooden door. “Shall I tell her your ladyship is not acceptin’ visitors?”

  Aidan traversed the carpet and opened the door with a jerk, startling her maid. “Show Lady Manley up.” The maid bobbed her head and curtsied, then quickly turned to do as bidden. “And, Penny …” Aidan said softly; the maid swiveled toward her. “I apologize for my abruptness.” She noted the maid’s accepting smile. “Some hot chocolate would be nice for Lady Manley and myself.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’ll fetch it quick.”

  Moments later, Eugenia swept into Aidan’s bedroom to wrap her arms around her friend in a gentle hug. “I hardly slept last night worrying about you. Are you still feeling ill?” Eugenia released Aidan. “Come, let’s sit.” She pulled her friend toward the two chairs angled near the gold-veined white marble fireplace. “Tell me what happened after we left you.”

  “Not much,” Aidan replied vapidly. “My father politely informed me, since Sedgewinn was to be my husband, I’d best show the earl some courtesy. It would go better for me if I did.”

  “Why, the man’s nothing but a vulgar lecher,” Eugenia returned, incensed. “How can His Grace expect you to show the man anything except contempt?”

  “A good question, Eugenia. I had always dreamed of finding my heart’s mate—to have a loving relationship like my parents had. But my father’s mind is set. I’m to marry Sedgewinn. I suppose he’s forgotten the importance of love,” she said of her sire.

  “Oh, Aidan,” Eugenia said, sympathetic tears shimmering in her expressive blue eyes, “I can’t believe he’s truly forgotten. But just the same, we must find a way to get you out of this terrible fix. Even David said he’d be willing to intercede on your behalf. I’ve never seen him so enraged. He was ready to call Sedgewinn out for the earl’s sheer lack of manners. Since David is more a diplomat than a warrior, I’d never have expected him to react so heatedly. It took me an hour to calm him down.”

  Surprised by Eugenia’s words, Aidan offered a grateful smile and some sound advice. “Tell David I appreciate his gallantry, but he’s not to be running off half-cocked, challenging Sedgewinn to a duel. Despite the earl’s age and girth, he’s purported to be an expert marksman. David should not take the chance, it’s true. Not for me, at least.”

  “Nor for me,” Eugenia agreed, willing to forgive Sedgewinn’s crude words simply to keep her husband alive. Without David, she was nothing. “But we must find a way to keep you from that horrid man’s grasp.”

  Aidan noted how Eugenia visibly shuddered, her face pinching up like she’d just swallowed a draft of castor oil, and she assumed her friend had envisioned herself, like Aidan had the day before, in the earl’s bed.

  “How could any woman possibly allow that disgusting man to touch her?” Eugenia asked, her lovely face tormented by the thought.

  “I imagine, Eugenia, it was not a matter of their allowing it,” she stated of his two previous wives.

  “They were forced, you mean,” Eugenia said without emotion, and saw Aidan’s nod.

  “If you’ll recall how the last Lady Sedgewinn’s frail arms were a multitude of colorful bruises, which she always explained away with a nervous laugh, relaying to all how utterly clumsy she was, I think you’ll see she was actually trying to hide the truth.”

  “Yes. The way she’d suddenly stiffen when Sedgewinn was near. And her eyes had the look of pure fright in them. Until last night, when I… I saw for myself the raw look in his own eyes as he beheld you, like you were a tempting morsel he’d gladly devour in one gluttonous bite, I’d never have dreamed him to be so … so …”

  “Barbarous?”

  Eugenia nodded, her eyes wide with concern. “Oh, Aidan, I can’t allow this to happen to you!”

  Aidan quickly slipped from her chair. It was her turn to comfort her friend, just as Eugenia had comforted her the day before. “Don’t fret over it,” she said, squatting beside Eugenia, her arm encasing the blond’s quaking shoulders. “I’ll talk with my father today and tell him what I suspect of Lord Sedgewinn. Once he’s apprised of the earl’s darker side, I’m certain he’ll change his mind.” Her words had come out steady and were said with much more bravado than she’d actually felt. “He’s still angry with me because I haven’t yet apologized for insulting him.”

  “You insulted His Grace?” Eugenia questioned, then wondered why she had asked, for there was nary a time the two didn’t quarrel without Aidan upbraiding her sire. Or vice versa. Far and away they were too much alike, each seeing his or her own worst flaws in the other, neither willing to admit they possessed the exact same traits. “What on earth did you say this time?”

  “I said the earl was nearly as old as he was.”

  “That’s true enough.”

  “I called Sedgewinn a doddering old man.”

  “Aidan! How could you? Especially when your father’s so sensitive about his age. You’ve trampled his ego into the ground. Let’s hope there’s still a chance of resurrecting it.”

  “Indeed.”

  “If an apology doesn’t work, then what?”

  Then I’ll elope with George Edmonds! But Aidan didn’t voice her thought, for if her planned tête-à-tête with her father should fail, then she didn’t wish to involve Eugenia and David. Once her father found she was missing, Lord and Lady Manley would be the first ones he’d question on her whereabouts. If they knew nothing, he couldn’t accuse them of being involved and they wouldn’t have to suffer his indignant wrath. But first, she had to make a concerted effort to appease her father’s wounded pride. Once that was done, surely he wouldn’t still wish to marry her off to a wife beater, would he?

  “Then what?” Eugenia repeated.

  “Then I’ll take myself off to a convent. Once I’ve cloistered myself for life, His Grace can’t very well find fault with me anymore.”

  “I pity the poor sisters,” Eugenia said, laughing, her spirits rising. “Although patience is a virtue, of which I’m certain the good nuns have in abundance, they are still human. Within a month they will probably boot you through the gates and wash their hands of you.”

  “You’re probably right,” Aidan said, her laughter joining Eugenia’s. Would she actually run off to a convent? she wondered, just now thinking of that escape route as a viable option. No, she decided, knowing piety belonged to the pious. Her own sins were far too many. She was too vain, too temperamental, too impetuous, too restless, too … too everything! to take the same vows as the good sisters had. To do so would be out-and-out hypocrisy! It would never work! “But in the interim,” Aidan continued, playing the game out, “I’ll have time to think of another way to avoid Sedgewinn’s clutches—that’s if my renouncement, in which I’ve shown I prefer the nunnery over a marriage to him, hasn’t chased him off. I suspect his ego exceeds my father’s.”

  “For your sake, I hope it works.” Then Eugenia suddenly blurted, “I never did ask about Lord Edmonds. What transpired when David and I left you?”

  “Nothing,” Aidan lied freely. “Nothing at all.”

  Eugenia eyed her a long moment and was ready to question her friend further when Penny came into the room with their hot chocolate. While sharing their favorite drink together, Aidan proceeded to convince Eugenia that all would be well once she’d talked to her father. By the time Eugenia left, a scant half-hour later, Aidan was certain she’d managed to allay her closest friend’s fears. Unfortunately, all her soothing words, stated with the utmost confidence, had done little to ease her own.

  After bathing and dressing, Aidan took the stairs, heading toward her father’s study. But as her feet hit the white marble floor, she was informed by Elsworth: “His Grace is out today. He will not be b
ack until supper.”

  “Did he say where he was going?”

  “No, Lady Prescott. Not a word.”

  Aidan watched as the stoop-shouldered, white-haired man continued on down the hallway, heading toward the back of the house. Why, of all days, did her father have to choose this one to go out? she wondered fitfully. If she weren’t given the chance to speak with him, convince him she was willing to mend her ways, and beg his forgiveness for being such a disobedient daughter, she’d have no other choice but to elope with George.

  As she stood alone in the foyer, sunlight glittered through the large glass cupola, two stories above her, and the area around her was filled with a mystical brilliance. A knowing silvery gaze suddenly leapt into her mind’s eye, and she remembered how it had raked her from head to toe. Chiseled, extremely masculine lips cracked into a wide, mocking grin, exposing even white teeth above a strong cleft chin; a small dimple appeared beside that masterful mouth. Deep, sensuous laughter seemed to fill her head as she felt a strong arm encircle her small waist to twirl her around the floor in an adept, fluid motion. Instantly hot fire raced the length of Aidan’s veins as she envisioned the Duke of Westover, handsome and sophisticated, looking down at her; her legs abruptly went all rubbery.

  Shaking her head to clear it, she clasped the railing for support and pulled herself up the stairs, praying with all her might: Father, please come home! Please!

  At half-past seven, Aidan sat in the small sitting room just off the foyer, waiting. Jumpy as a cat that had been tossed onto a bed of hot coals, she started at every sound. Five times she’d bounded from her chair, thinking she’d heard the front door open, certain her father had returned. But each time she did so proved to be a false alarm, for her overly sensitive ears had been playing tricks on her.

  As she sat in the solitude of the room, she again practiced her apology, like she had all day. Father, forgive my transgressions— No! That’s not right! she admonished sharply, silently. She’d sound as though she were in a confessional, begging for the Lord’s forgiveness, and her father would never believe her penance was real. Not using those words.

  Father, I know we’ve had many differences of opinion in the past, mainly because of my lack of forethought, my— The sound of the front door opening interrupted Aidan’s thoughts. Voices sounded in the entry, and she hopped from her chair, scurrying to the sitting-room doorway. Her legs abruptly stopped their hasty journey; her bright, smiling face froze into a brittle mask. Warm violet eyes turned cold as ice when they pinpointed her nemesis: Lord Sedgewinn!

  “Ah, Aidan, dearest,” he said, smiling like a cat that was about to pounce upon a trapped canary, “you look lovely, my dear. Lovelier than I could ever have imagined.”

  Aidan had bristled at the use of her given name and his familiar tone, for she’d not awarded him permission to call her such or speak to her so. And as far as she was concerned, she never would! Lecher, she thought, her stomach suddenly lurching, nausea overtaking her. Then her gaze hit her father’s and she caught his stern, unspoken message, which said: Courtesy, daughter! Remember it!

  Masking the angry light in her eyes, she squared her shoulders, smoothed the skirt of the yellow silk dress she wore, and folded her hands together at her waist, presenting a ladylike stance. If she was expected to play the game, she’d play it well. And to the bitter end, she decided, lifting her smile higher. “Lord Sedgewinn,” she said, barely hiding the venom in her voice, “how nice to see you again.”

  With his hat and gloves handed off to a silent and overly stiff Elsworth, he ambled toward Aidan with the use of his cane. “I trust you’ve recovered from your sudden illness?” he asked, his raw gaze assessing her from head to toe.

  Her back held rod straight, Aidan refused to allow his lewd appraisal to shake her. Although his words seemed a genuine inquiry, filled with gentlemanly concern, his meaning was quite apparent to her. He wanted a strong, healthy body beneath him in his bed. One that would be able to withstand his brutal invasion whenever the urge struck him. Which, no doubt, was several times daily. She’d slit her wrists before she’d ever submit to the likes of him! she decided, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “I’m quite recovered, thank you,” she said airily. “It was overly warm last evening, and the press of several hundred people in one room at the Quincys’ made it unbearable.” It was a lie, she knew, for it had been Justin Warfield’s threats—and his overpowering masculinity—that had sent her packing. “The heat made me feel a bit light-headed, that’s all,” she finished, trying to erase the handsome young duke’s face from her mind. But the memory of it would not leave her.

  “Good … good,” Sedgewinn answered, obviously pleased to hear her explanation. “I’d hoped it was little else.”

  “Might I offer you a brandy?” Alastair Prescott asked, coming up beside the earl. His approving gaze settled on his daughter, telling her he was pleased with her actions.

  “Supper will be served in five minutes, Your Grace,” Elsworth’s nasal tone interrupted. “Shall I set an extra place?”

  No! Aidan thought wildly, then wondered if she’d actually shouted the word aloud. Realizing she hadn’t, she quickly said a round of prayers that the answer would be …

  “Yes,” the duke pronounced, and Aidan’s hopes plummeted. If there truly was a God, she was certain his ears were closed to her. Had she been so terribly bad, so terribly wicked, that He wished to see her unduly punished for the rest of her natural life? she wondered. Hell could be no worse, she decided as she heard her father’s words: “Lord Sedgewinn will be joining us.”

  In the dining room, framed portraits of her ancestors stared down at her from the mint-green walls as Aidan sat frozen in her seat. Violet eyes watched Lord Sedgewinn as he attacked his third plate, which was heaped to overflowing and covered completely with the rich sauces Cook had prepared. His weak, pudgy chin dripped with the same, for he never bothered to use his linen napkin once, and Aidan found she’d lost her appetite for the delicious fare set before her. With his mouth full, he talked incessantly and Aidan fought to swallow the bile which had, long ago, risen in her throat. It refused to go down.

  “I’m certain Aidan will be an exceptional wife,” he said to the duke, taking another bite of his food. “She’s of sound breeding, good bloodlines, and has a solid frame. We should present you with many grandchildren, Your Grace—the first within a year of our nuptials.”

  Aidan’s gaze bounced off the earl and attached itself to her father, hoping to see his reaction. His face was a blank mask. But she noted how his hand had curled into a tight fist, its knuckles mottled white, where it rested upon the table next to his empty plate.

  “Yes,” Sedgewinn continued his monologue, bits of chewed food spewing unappetizingly from his loose lips to splash onto the once pristine white tablecloth, “we should have a large brood that will make you proud in no time at all.”

  Valiantly Aidan fought the urge to shove herself from the table and run, screaming, from the room. Gritting her teeth, she settled her gaze on her own untouched plate. She breathed deeply, closed her eyes, and wondered if the obnoxious man would ever stop eating and talking. If she could only have a private word with her father, she thought, but he seemed content to sit and listen to the ceaseless ramblings of his future son-in-law. How, she could not fathom!

  Her eyelids parted and she glanced at the clock on the sideboard. It was nearly ten past nine. In less than three hours Justin Warfield would be behind the walled gardens, waiting for her in the mews, the cobbled alleyway which led to the carriage houses and stables belonging to the grand houses in Grosvenor Square. She considered whether she’d be there herself, then prayed the answer would be no. If she could only speak to her father; apologize to him; swear she’d never disobey him again; fall at his feet and beg his forgiveness. If he would only listen; take her into his fatherly embrace; tell her she was excused, that he would not marry her off to Sedgewinn. Then she’d have no reason to flee with the Duke of West
over. None whatsoever!

  Then suddenly another thought hit Aidan. If she could not persuade her father, and she had to follow through on her marriage to George, what would she do if her escort never showed? Given his derision on the elopement, he might very well change his mind. A promise or not, he might go back on his word, determined to save George from the conniving, manipulative little she-devil he believed her to be! Oh, heavens! What would she do then?

  “Ah, excellent meal, Your Grace,” Sedgewinn said, leaning back and patting his engorged belly. “Excellent, indeed.”

  Aidan watched as he finally took his splattered napkin from his lap to wipe his mouth, only to leave several unsightly smudges behind. Pig! she thought as she looked down to see his plate nearly as clean as when it had been set before him empty.

  “Lord Sedgewinn and I will be retiring to the library to finish our negotiations,” her father said, eyeing her closely. “Having heard most of the terms, do you have any questions?”

  Yes! her mind screamed. Why are you doing this to me? Instead, she leveled her subdued gaze on her sire and said, “I’m certain you have my best welfare in mind. I will accede to your wishes on the matter. I’m willing to marry” —she’d almost choked on the word—”Lord Sedgewinn. If that’s what you feel will give me the most happiness, I shall do as you ask.”

  Alastair viewed his daughter a long, searching moment, one silvery brow arched. A pleased look suddenly entered his blue eyes, and he reached out and patted her cold hand as it rested on the table. “Daughter, I promise what transpires tonight will be done with only you in mind.” He turned to his guest. “Sedgewinn, shall we?”

  The duke rose from his chair, his face a mask of utmost courtesy. For a moment—one brief moment—Aidan thought her father was going to relent, but with his next words, her hopes plunged anew.

 

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