by Kruger, Mary
“A dire prospect. No, I do not mock you. I suspect you’re deadly as an enemy.” He nodded. “Very well. You have my blessing. Beth will stay with us, of course, when you go.”
“Of course.”
“Good.” Giles looked directly at him. “You do realize that my mother is opposed to any match between you.”
“Yes, sir, I know that.”
“She wants to be certain that Beth will be treated well.”
“Of course, sir.” Thomas sounded surprised that such a question had to be asked. “I intend to do everything in my power to make her happy.”
“Good.” The dance had ended, and people were milling about on the floor, chatting and finding new partners. “I’ll do what I can to bring my mother around, though God knows it won’t be easy. I hope you’re up to this fight.”
“You can count on me, sir.”
“Good.” Giles grinned at him. “Now, what are you wasting time with me for? Go to Beth.”
“Yes, sir!” Thomas gave him a quick salute and then turned, making his way through the mob to his beloved. Beth, her pretty face screwed up in an anxious pucker, looked up at him as he talked, and suddenly smiled, glowingly. To anyone watching, it must have been obvious what was happening between them. Giles only hoped his mother wasn’t aware of it.
“Giles,” a soft voice said beside him, and he looked down to see Anne. “Am I imagining things, or did Beth nearly hug Lieutenant Bancroft just now?”
“She did. Thank God she had more decorum or we’d be in the suds for sure.”
“Heavens! Whatever in the world could he have said to her to make her behave in such a way?”
“I suspect he was telling her I’d given my blessing to their marriage.”
“Giles!” Anne clutched his arm, looking up at him in delight. “Really?”
“Really.”
“Oh, how marvelous. I am so happy for Beth. She deserves her own life.”
“She does.” They stood silent for a moment, watching the crowd. “This is a hard time, with Bancroft going off to war. They may not have a second chance.”
Anne looked away from his direct gaze; his meaning was clear in his eyes. “I am so glad you agreed to it, Giles. They’re so much in love.”
“Indeed, they are.” The music started up again. “So they are playing a waltz tonight.”
“How scandalous,” Anne said, lightly.
“You are not dancing?”
“I told you, sir. I intend not to cause any more scenes.”
Giles looked out onto the floor. Lieutenant Bancroft, apparently with no such compunction, had caught Beth up in his arms and was already twirling her around the floor. An impetuous young man, and a smart one. If he had the courage to seize the moment, then so did Giles. “Come,” he said, taking Anne’s arm and pulling her onto the floor. “Let us dance.”
“Giles! This is a waltz.”
He grinned at her. “All the better.”
“Giles,” she protested again, but the words died as he slipped his arm about her waist. She was in his arms again, close to him again. It was heaven; it was torture. “Giles, what of your consequence?”
“Hang my consequence. You were right, Annie.”
“About what?”
“About there being more to life than duty.” He swung her in a turn that left her breathless. “I think Lieutenant Bancroft and Beth have the right idea, don’t you?”
Anne stopped still. “Giles!”
“Annie, Annie. If you stop, someone is certain to bump into us, and we can’t have that, can we?”
“But, Giles!” Helplessly she let herself be whirled around again. “What an outrageous thing to say while we are dancing!”
“What? That they knew enough to enjoy life while they can? That’s what I meant.” Giles’s eyes were innocent. “What did you think I meant, Annie?”
“N-nothing.”
“Mm-hm.” He glanced around. “Rather warm in here, isn’t it?”
“Giles Templeton, now what are you thinking?”
“Nothing.” He turned that innocent gaze on her again. “Anne, I am shocked at what you’re implying. You really must do something about that suspicious mind of yours.”
“I must—suspicious mind,” she sputtered, staring at him, and then let out a laugh. “Giles, you are a complete hand!”
His grin was boyish and endearing. “I know. Would you want my hand, Annie?”
“Giles—”
“For dancing,” he said, and whirled her around again. This time, she laughed. When had she and Giles last flirted? It was exciting, it was frightening, but the fluttery feeling at the pit of her stomach was not at all unpleasant. She felt young, attractive, alluring. She hadn’t felt like this in a very long time.
“For dancing,” she agreed, as his hand met hers. Palm touched palm, fingers linked with fingers, and slowly, as their eyes met, their arms slid down. For a moment the laughter, the teasing, were gone, replaced by something more serious, more elemental. Oh, heavens. What was happening between them?
“I’ve missed you, Annie,” he said in a low voice, his eyes still holding hers.
“I’ve—missed you.” She didn’t pretend to misunderstand his meaning; she knew he was referring to the distance that had been between them since that night in the drawing room, when he had held her in his arms. But, oh heavens, what was she to do? There was no going back to their former relationship, that she knew. How, though, could they possibly go forward?
“I wonder,” she said, her mind veering wildly off at a tangent, “if the ghost is going to make another appearance.”
“I doubt it.” The look in Giles’s eyes told her that he knew quite well what she was doing. “God knows why the prankster did it, but now that we’ve found out how, I’ll be surprised if he tries again.”
“Have you any idea who did it?”
“Obadiah’s looking into it.” He paused. “He’s a good man.”
“I told you that.”
“Don’t poker up so, Annie. It doesn’t become you.”
“Giles—”
“You have to admit, to someone who didn’t know the man, it sounded deuced odd. A former slave as overseer.”
“I suppose it would. I’ve grown used to it, of course, and I know what the people on the plantation are like. They’re good people.”
“I don’t doubt it.”
“Obadiah really should be reinstated as overseer.”
“I agree.”
“What?”
“I’m not stupid, Anne. I could see the difference in the ledgers after you took over. It’s something I’ve been considering for a while, since this whole ghost business started.”
“Oh, I’m so pleased. Obadiah will be, too. He doesn’t like living in England.”
“I know.” He paused. “Do you, Anne?”
“Why, of course I do. I’m quite enjoying this summer.”
“That isn’t quite what I mean. I think you know that.”
Anne glanced away. The emotion she had felt this afternoon, of never wanting to leave, had faded, leaving in its place reality. “I don’t belong here, Giles,” she said, finally. “Maybe I never did, but I wouldn’t have known it if I hadn’t gone away. There would always have been this part of me that was unhappy, and I wouldn’t know why. Look around us.” She gestured about the room. “See how few people are dancing, and all because of public opinion. Good heavens, if I behaved as I do in Jamaica, I’d be beyond the pale. I never wear hats there, Giles, and my skin gets quite brown. I like to run the plantation as I wish. I like running down the beach with my son and not worrying about what people will say, or if I’ll be ostracized. I can be myself, there. I can’t, here. It’s freedom, Giles.”
His eyes were intent on hers. “We make our choices, Anne. Choices are made for us, and we’re bound by them. I don’t believe there really is such a thing as complete freedom.”
“No, probably not. But life is richer when you can make your own cho
ices. I can’t do that here.”
“I understand that, Anne. Perhaps more than you think.”
“What do you mean?”
Giles drew to a halt as the waltz ended, and bowed. As he rose, his eyes met hers. “I know about Freddie, Anne.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Anne stood very still, chilled, though the night was warm. Giles knew about Freddie. He knew, and now what would he think of her? It hadn’t been her fault, she knew that now, but she also knew that many others wouldn’t agree. Dear God, how was she to handle it, now that he knew—but what, exactly, did he know?
“What a remarkable thing to say,” she said, smiling brightly and batting her eyelashes at him. “It sounds so mysterious.”
“I think you know what I mean, Anne,” Giles said, his eyes never leaving hers.
“Well, there is so little to know about him, really, that you don’t already know.” She glanced aside. “Heavens, everyone has left the floor and yet here we stand. Everyone must be looking at us.”
“And we can’t have that, can we. Very well, Anne.” He took her arm and they strolled off the floor. “In any event, this is something best discussed in private.”
“That sounds most ominous. Lieutenant Bancroft. How nice to see you tonight. You look very handsome.”
Thomas, after casting a quick, uncertain glance at Giles, smiled down at Anne. “Thank you, ma’am. You look lovely, too, but you make me feel most impolite for not saying so first.”
“Oh, heavens, as if that matters! Oh, they are playing a cotillion! But if I stand up with Giles again, the tabbies will surely notice.”
“I’d be happy to dance with you, ma’am.”
“Why, thank you, sir. I’m honored.” Anne placed her hand on Thomas’s arm and, casting a quick smile back at Giles, allowed herself to be led out onto the floor.
Damn. Giles’s mouth set in a thin line. He had bungled that, bringing up her past at a time when they couldn’t possibly discuss it. And yet, he was relieved. He had no doubt that what Obadiah had told him was the truth, but he didn’t want to know more. Not really.
“Poor Anne,” Beth said, softly, and he looked down at her.
“Do you not mind that she captured your beau, just like that?” he said. “I’ve known Anne to be flirtatious, but never to walk off with another woman’s fiancé.”
Beth’s smile was brilliant. “You gave Thomas your approval.”
“I did.” He smiled. “I must say, I think he’s damned lucky. Most young women would be furious at what he did.”
“Anne gave him little choice. Poor thing, she must be very unhappy.”
“Anne? She looks to be enjoying herself.”
“Oh, no. Not really. She only behaves so when she is unhappy. Really, Giles, it was too bad of you to make me think she was so flighty, when really she is one of the most dependable people I know.”
“She is flirtatious, Beth.”
“Oh, yes, but only, I think, to get attention. How sad.”
“What?”
“To feel she has to act so for people to notice her. I wonder if she thinks no one loves her.”
“She should know better,” he began, and stopped, struck by what Beth had said. No, why should she? Her parents, Freddie, even himself—all had ultimately withheld their love from her. Good God. No wonder if, when something hurt her, she ran away, seeking comfort and yet never finding it. He could understand that; had he not done the same thing himself? Perhaps, though, it was time to stop running. Perhaps he could help her face whatever was hurting her.
“Do be gentle with her, Giles,” Beth said.
Startled, Giles came out of his reverie. “Pardon?”
“When you speak with her. Be nice to her.”
“I will, Beth.” He smiled down at her as the dance ended and the sets broke up. “I will.”
He had little chance, though, to speak with Anne for the remainder of the night. Popular as she was, she danced every dance. Then, of course, when the Prince of Wales made his appearance, all attention was turned to him, some ladies going so far as to stand on benches to see him. It was just as well, Giles thought, occasionally catching a glimpse of Anne as she laughed and danced, disguising the pain that he knew was in her eyes. This was no place to discuss sensitive subjects.
It was late when the Tremonts at last set off for home, after a festive supper and a truly memorable ball. Beth was still radiant and chatting; Anne, quiet. Giles was tired, from the day’s emotions, and more than ready to seek his bed. Damn, what had happened to his nice, quiet life, when his family had behaved in a calm, predictable way? It was all Anne’s doing. He didn’t know whether to bless her, or blame her.
“Giles. Elizabeth,” Julia said as they prepared to go upstairs. “I would see you in the drawing room.”
Oh, damn. “Tonight, Mother?” Giles said.
“Yes. Now. Give me your arm, Giles. I am old.”
Giles cast a look at Beth, who looked suitably apprehensive. “Very well, Mother. What is this about?” he asked, as they walked into the drawing room.
Julia waited until she was settled in a chair, with a stool under her feet, before she answered. “I believe you know. I want to know, Elizabeth, why you behaved as you did tonight with that man.”
Beth threw Giles a quick look and then raised her chin. “He asked me to marry him, Mother. I said I would.”
“I beg your pardon?” Julia stared at her daughter, and then, very slowly, gripping the arms of her chair, rose. “What did you say you are going to do, miss?”
“I said I am going to marry Lieutenant Bancroft.” Beth met Julia’s eyes squarely. In the past, such a look from her mother would have made her back down, but not tonight. Though the thought of this confrontation had had her in a quake all evening, now that she had started, she felt surprisingly calm. Never before had she defied her mother. It was rather amazing she hadn’t been struck by lightning, simply for contemplating such a thing.
The thought made her smile, and Julia drew herself up to her full height. “You think to mock me, Elizabeth?”
“No. Oh, no, Mother, I would never do such a thing! Please, let us not squabble about this. I love him.”
“Bah. Love counts for nothing in our world. Giles can tell you that, can you not?”
Giles, who until this moment had been leaning against the drawing room wall, uttered a silent sigh and stepped forward. At this moment, this was the last thing in the world he wished to discuss. When would he be able to turn his attention from his duties to be with Anne? “Actually, Mother, I believe love does count, no matter one’s station,” he said.
“What?” Julia peered at him from under lowered eyebrows. “You can say that after what Anne did to you?”
“Yes, and we both know why she did it, don’t we?”
Under his steady regard Julia’s eyes dropped, but only for a moment. “Nonsense. It was her choice to leave. She chose another man, Giles. So much for love.”
“Mother!” Beth exclaimed.
“We made a mistake.” Giles refused to rise to the bait, though inside he was quivering with anger. “I don’t intend to let the same thing happen to Beth.”
“What? What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that I’ve given my consent to the match.”
Julia sat down abruptly, her face pale. “Good God. Have you run mad, Giles? He couldn’t be less suitable for Beth.”
“To the contrary. Do you think I agreed to this without thinking it through first? No, Mother, I know my duty.” Julia flinched at the word she had thrown in his face so many times, but he continued inexorably on. “Lieutenant Bancroft is a good man. He comes of good family, has an unblemished record in the army, and owns a small estate. Not, perhaps, what Beth is used to, but with her portion, they’ll manage fine.”
“Her portion! Oh, no. She’ll get nothing from me, do you hear? Nothing!”
“He doesn’t want money,” Beth put in, her face pale.
“It�
��s not your money to give,” Giles said at the same time.
Julia stared at them both. “Are you going over my authority, boy?”
“No, Mother. Simply exercising my own.”
“My God.” She glared at him. “This is a betrayal, boy, do you understand that? After all I’ve done for you.”
“I’m sorry.” Giles sounded not in the least penitent. “I’ve made my decision. Beth has my blessing to marry Thomas Bancroft.”
“Well, she hasn’t mine,” Julia said, bitterly. “And you should be ashamed of yourself. Have you thought of what her life will be like, married to a half-pay officer?”
“He isn’t,” Beth protested.
“What is she supposed to do? Follow him all around the continent? Good God, Giles, use your sense!”
“I have, Mother. Beth will stay with us while he’s away.”
“I will not!” Beth exclaimed.
“She will not. I won’t have her in my house, do you hear me?”
The silence rang with her last words. “Yes, Mother, we heard you,” Giles said, finally, crossing the room and putting his arm about Beth’s shoulders. “I think perhaps it’s time you listened to us. No, you’ve had your say.” He raised his hand. “I am the head of this family. I have deferred decisions to you, but no longer. If that means I have to make some hard choices, then so be it.” He looked at her, and his gaze softened. “Come, Mother. Can you not simply make peace with the idea? We’re not children anymore. We can make our own decisions.”
“Foolish decisions.” Julia rose, her face twisted. “Oh, go on, go on to ruin, both of you! If you won’t listen to me, I can do nothing to force you.” She paused at the door, and though her gaze was as fierce as ever, something had gone out of her. She looked smaller, frailer. Old. “But you’ll regret it. Mark my words. You’ll regret it.”
Silence echoed in the wake of Julia’s departure, broken only by the thump of her cane as she made her way upstairs. Brother and sister stared at each other in speechless silence for a moment, and then Giles held out his arms. “It will be all right, Bethie,” he murmured, as she ran to him and his arms closed about her. “She’ll come around.”
“I don’t think so, Giles.” Beth’s voice was steady. Where, he wondered, was the shy, quaking girl she had been? “She doesn’t like Thomas.”