Only Mine

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by Cheryl Holt


  T WAS KIND OF you to come to town for the evening.”

  “I couldn’t pass up the chance to escort you, not when you look so lovely.”

  As Benjamin voiced the compliment, Veronica thought there wasn’t a hint of sincerity in his tone. She knew she looked fantastic. Her gown was dripping with Belgian lace, and her maid had spent two hours on her hair alone. Her mother had let her take the sapphire jewelry out of the vault, and she had a diamond tiara in her hair.

  She could have been a princess or a young queen so his assessment was accurate. But as always when she was with him, she suffered from the distinct impression that he might have been talking to her or any female. She’d like—once in her life—to have him actually notice her.

  They hadn’t danced yet. When they’d arrived at the ball, the sets were just forming, and they were standing off to the side watching the couples twirl by. He hadn’t permitted the butler to announce them so she’d been denied that wonderful moment at the top of the stairs where everyone would gaze up and see what a dashing couple they were.

  Because of the scandal with his baby cousin, he didn’t like to have his presence pointed out. He liked to simply show up and slip into an assembly without others being apprised, but it was ludicrous for him to try to be invisible.

  He was taller than most men in the room, and with him wearing his red soldier’s coat, the front decorated with medals and ribbons, there was no way he could pretend to be anonymous. People were furtively glancing, whispering comments about them, but whether they were merely being observed or whether they were the butt of horrid remarks, she had no idea.

  She doubted others were still obsessing over the tragedy as he constantly supposed. In all the months he’d been home, there hadn’t been any gossip about him, but he seemed to believe he was on their minds incessantly.

  “How is your bachelor party?” she asked, and she could have kicked herself for raising the topic. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

  “It’s fine.”

  “Wesley will be glad to hear it. He was eager to please you.”

  “He didn’t need to. I wasn’t exactly keen to celebrate.”

  What did he mean? He didn’t need to celebrate their engagement? He didn’t care that his bachelor days were ending? Men were so complicated!

  “Who are your guests? Is there anyone I know in attendance?”

  “They’re mostly friends of Wesley’s. My friends are all in the army. They’re not even in England.”

  “I’m told that such gatherings can be very raucous.”

  “They can be.”

  “Is yours raucous?”

  There was a lengthy pause as he considered his answer. “What are you asking me, Veronica?”

  She peered up at him, and she was choking on all sorts of questions she couldn’t spit out. Was his house filled with trollops? Was he misbehaving with them? What conduct had he allowed? Was he front and center in all the lewd activities?

  She wanted a husband who would be devoted and faithful, and she couldn’t bear to imagine he might be a libertine. Would he regularly cheat on her? Would he have mistresses and second families and bastard children around every corner? Most rich men carried on like that, and their wives were expected to look the other way. Would that be Veronica’s plight too?

  A bigger issue was that Grey Manor was about to be one of her homes. Shouldn’t she have had some say in whether or not he could entertain strumpets there?

  But she wasn’t brave enough to delve into such shocking subjects so she said, “It doesn’t matter. Your party isn’t any of my business.”

  He snorted in an annoying manner. “I’ll tell you whatever you wish to know.”

  “No, no, that’s all right.”

  What if she pressed him, and he admitted to salacious interactions with doxies? What if he provided details? The prospect was too appalling to contemplate.

  Suddenly, the crowd parted, and she was staring directly at Michael. His focus was potent and possessive, as if she belonged to him, and his boldness thrilled her.

  Ever since she’d snuck away with him the prior night, she couldn’t concentrate on any topic but him, and to her great disgust she was anxious to be alone with him again at the earliest opportunity.

  The fact that she was desperate for another assignation was terrifying. She was about to wed Benjamin Grey and be a countess, but if she was caught with Michael, it would all collapse in an instant.

  It was a deadly sin to ponder him, but she couldn’t stop. Clearly, he supplied something important she was lacking. What was it? Attention? Passion? Romance? Did she covet those things so intensely that she would imperil her marriage?

  He’d cast a spell on her. It was madness to mope and pine away over him, yet she was standing with her fiancé and wondering if there was an excuse she could give so she could be with Michael instead.

  She yanked away and said to Benjamin, “Could we walk in the garden?”

  “In the garden?”

  “Yes, it’s so hot in here, and I’d like to cool down before we start dancing.”

  He gaped at her as if she were deranged, but in the end he obliged her. He offered his arm and escorted her out. They strolled along, their silence awkward and embarrassing. After returning from the army, he’d avoided London. He hadn’t forgiven those who’d been cruel to him in the past, but his staying away ensured that they’d had limited chances to become better acquainted.

  “After we’re wed,” she asked, “how will we get on?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We’ve never discussed what our life will be like. Will we live at Lyndon Hall?”

  “I haven’t decided. It’s been shuttered for a decade, and I haven’t checked on its condition. We might have to use Grey Manor until we have it cleaned and renovated.”

  Grey Manor! Where he was hosting a bevy of doxies! “Why has it been shuttered?”

  “My cousin, Soloman, closed it up when he sailed to Egypt. I’m going there tomorrow to look at it.”

  “Would you like me to go with you?”

  His reply came much too quickly. “No, there’s no need, and I’m certain—if it’s as decrepit as I’m expecting—you’d be distressed.”

  “I’d try to bear up.”

  He had no response to that, and they were silent again.

  Eventually, she said, “Your mother and I are working to finalize the wedding, but I’m not aware of your preferences.”

  “I told you, Veronica. Whatever you select is fine by me.”

  His complete apathy over the wedding was another sore point with her. Her mother claimed it was a man’s way, that they simply couldn’t be bothered by such trivia, but Veronica deemed it to be more proof that he couldn’t care less about what was happening.

  “What about the guest list? Aren’t you concerned about it? What if I invite people you hate?”

  “My mother knows who I want there—and who I don’t.”

  For some reason, she was particularly bereft, as if she was making a huge mistake and would be sorry forever. She’d yearned to be a countess since she was a little girl. It was about to transpire. Why couldn’t she be glad?

  She was about to be a bride, and she thought she should constantly be feeling how she felt with Michael but that her fiancé should be generating those feelings. Not some stranger. She should be giddy with joy, but instead she was confused over her choices and worrying that Benjamin wasn’t the husband she desired.

  “Do you think we’ll be happy?” she blurted out.

  He shrugged. “Happy enough.”

  It was the most tepid answer he could have provided. They’d been walking side by side, and she halted and pulled him around to face her.

  “Does it matter to you how we’ll carry on? What if we’re not happy?”

  “Married couples muddle through, Veronica. You shouldn’t fret over it.”

  “But we barely know each other, and I can’t even say where I’ll be living once I�
�m your wife.”

  “Yes, you can. It will most likely be Lyndon Hall after it’s opened up, but until then it will be Grey Manor.”

  “Which is currently filled with strumpets!” The comment slithered out before she could stop it.

  “Ah...” he murmured. “Is my party vexing you?”

  “My apologies,” she mumbled. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “Wesley planned it for me. I asked him not to, but he arranged it anyway. When he went to so much trouble, I couldn’t refuse to attend.”

  “Yes, you could have.”

  “I was trying to please my brother. You and I have hurt him with our engagement, and I’m mending fences.”

  “With a house full of opera dancers!”

  “Some of the women have less than stellar reputations. I admit it, but Wesley picked the guests, and it is a diverse group of men and women. For the most part, I spend my days riding and visiting my tenants.”

  For the most part? What about the rest of the time? What about those late nights when liquor flowed and loose girls started to look very pretty?

  “Do you want to wed me?” she had the temerity to ask.

  “What a ridiculous question. Why would you pose it?”

  “You don’t seem interested in me at all. You could be marrying me or anyone.”

  He scowled, his expression fierce and exhausting. “What is this really about, Veronica?”

  “You’ve never even kissed me!”

  “There will be plenty of opportunity for intimate behavior after we’re wed. In fact, I’m betting you’ll grow sick of it very fast.”

  He was staring at her as if the notion of kissing her was distasteful. He didn’t appear to like her very much, and she didn’t exactly like him either. She didn’t know him well enough to have an opinion!

  “What if we’re not happy?” she said more morosely. “I’m so afraid we won’t be. You can tell me if you don’t want to proceed. If you’d rather not, just say so.”

  He sighed with aggravation. “As I’ve frequently mentioned, Veronica, it’s entirely up to you. I have always felt—after discovering Wesley’s affection for you—that our betrothal was a mistake. I wish you or my mother had seen fit to apprise me before we finalized the contracts, but the deed is done and I can’t back out. If you would like to cry off, simply talk to your father. He and my mother can work out the details of ending it.”

  They were at a dangerous juncture, and she bit down hard lest she voice remarks she hadn’t intended. She’d given him the chance to proclaim his delight in having her as his wife, but he was still maddeningly blasé.

  “You don’t care about me,” she wailed.

  “Let’s get you inside. You’re overwrought this evening. Perhaps your mother should take you home.”

  “I’m not a child, Benjamin.”

  “Then don’t act like one.”

  He guided her to the ballroom, directly to her mother who was too dim-witted to realize that they’d been quarreling then he suddenly remembered a previous appointment and departed without further explanation.

  The ball was one of the few occasions where they would socialize together prior to the week of their wedding festivities, and she was livid that he would abandon her. He should have been down on his knees to apologize for upsetting her. Instead, he’d run off like a coward, like an unattached, indifferent bachelor.

  She’d never been more incensed or insulted.

  She glanced through the crowd, and Michael was watching her with his heated regard. Furtively, she gestured to the garden, and he grasped what she was requesting. He nodded then headed outside. She waited several minutes then headed outside too.

  “IT’S ONLY SIX MORE years.”

  “Six years!”

  Annabel grinned at Harry. “When you’re ten, it sounds like an eternity, but after you’re finished with school, you’ll be free of the Boswells. You’ll be able to carry on however you please.”

  “I don’t think I’ll ever be free of them,” he glumly muttered. “I heard Grandfather Boswell inform Mother that I have to join the family business. They plan to employ me as a clerk to help me learn my place in the world.”

  “You, a clerk!” Annabel laughed.

  “I’d jump off a cliff first.”

  “What would you like to do with yourself? Have you thought about it?”

  “I’d like to be a prince.”

  “Well, you have to be born a prince. You can’t become one.”

  “Then maybe a pirate?”

  “That would be exciting.”

  “I don’t want to go to university, and I don’t want to work for Grandfather Boswell.”

  “I completely understand. Once you’re sixteen, you can tell all of them to bugger off.”

  “May I come to live with you and Uncle Michael?”

  “Absolutely. And circumstances may change before then so it would happen sooner. I’ll keep my fingers crossed.”

  “You have to make sure I always know where you are. If I’m in trouble, I have to be able to find you.”

  “You can’t run away though.” He didn’t respond, and she nudged him with her elbow. “Promise me you won’t. It will just create more problems with your Grandfather Boswell.”

  “All right, I won’t,” he grumbled.

  They were in the pasture behind Boswell House. They’d spent the afternoon talking and riding, sitting in the sun and wading in the stream. It was nearly time for her to return to Grey Manor.

  Lydia was staring at them out the window, and Annabel said, “There’s your mother.”

  Harry missed a step and stumbled slightly. Annabel reached out to steady him.

  “She doesn’t like you visiting,” he murmured.

  “She doesn’t like anything, Harry. Don’t worry about it.”

  “She could forbid you to see me again.”

  “She could try,” Annabel scoffed. “I’ve never listened to her my entire life, and I’m not about to start.”

  “I begged her to take me to Grandfather Cecil’s grave, and she refused.”

  “I’ll take you some day.” Annabel draped an arm over his shoulder. “It’s in a pretty cemetery overlooking the Thames.”

  “He’d like that.”

  “Yes, I thought so.”

  “After my holiday is over, don’t complain to Mother about my staying with her in the future. If you’re not here, I don’t really wish to be here either.”

  “Wouldn’t you like to see Miss Peggy occasionally?”

  “I wouldn’t mind that, but my school isn’t too bad. I have a teacher who’s a grand fellow, and there’s another student who never goes home. We’re fast friends, and I can remain there with him.”

  “Better there than here, hmm?”

  He shrugged. He was a polite boy, and he was reticent about criticizing his mother directly, but her dislike was the huge elephant in the room. She detested her son and exhibited no maternal sentiment.

  “Has she ever told you why she doesn’t like me?” he inquired.

  “She doesn’t like anybody, Harry, and it doesn’t matter why, does it?”

  “I suppose not. I’m just curious over how I generated her animosity.”

  “She never liked Cecil. She never liked me or Michael. She’s a very miserable person, and she always has been.”

  They went to the barn, and Harry helped her to saddle the horses. Then they walked around to the front drive. He appeared incredibly morose over her leaving.

  “I’ll come again tomorrow,” she said.

  “I was hoping you would. I didn’t want to pester you by asking.”

  “You’re never a pest.”

  “Could I ride with you to Grey Manor? I’d like to see it.”

  “Not when there’s an adult party in progress. You might be struck blind by some of the mischief that’s occurring.”

  “I’d rather be struck blind than sit here and die from boredom.”

  “I’d like you to meet Cap
tain Grey though. He’s a rich nob, and he’s been a soldier for a long time. I think you’d like him.”

  “Would he like me?”

  “I’m sure he would. He’s about to be the new Lord Lyndon too. So he’s a notorious character.”

  At her mentioning the Captain’s title, Harry paused, and there was the strangest expression on his face. He seemed frozen then he smiled over at her. “Lyndon? Would I know the family?”

  “No, I’m certain you don’t. They don’t exactly travel in the same circles as Lydia and the Boswells, but he could teach you to shoot and fence and box. He’s terrific at all those male activities that Michael didn’t care to ever learn.”

  “And Grandfather Boswell would never let me learn them.”

  Annabel snorted with derision. “A clerk isn’t required to fence or box, is he?”

  “Good thing I’m not going to be a clerk then.”

  “Yes, a very good thing.”

  Annabel sighed, her strides slowing. She couldn’t bear their parting, but it was more than that. She was in no hurry to head to Grey Manor.

  Michael, Captain Grey, and his brother were all in London where Michael would have initiated further nonsense with the Captain’s fiancée. Plus, the Captain had figured out Michael’s true identity so they might have quarreled. That very moment, Michael might be at Grey Manor packing their bags.

  Annabel’s situation with the Captain was unresolved. They’d argued then he’d left for town. She’d considered departing too, but she hadn’t.

  She was pathetically, ridiculously despondent over their spat. Ever since she’d stomped out of his room, she’d been peeking over her shoulder, positive he’d be standing there, eager to apprise her that he hated how they’d fought.

  But apparently, she was suffering regrets that he wasn’t suffering. She wondered if she’d ever see him again. He might simply not return to the country. He might send his brother with the message that Annabel should vacate the premises, and if that happened she’d be crushed.

  Evidently, he’d wedged himself into her heart, and she wasn’t yet ready to pluck him out and toss him aside.

 

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