The Viscount's Veiled Lady

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The Viscount's Veiled Lady Page 23

by Jenni Fletcher


  ‘Not us. You. Aggravating as it is, I’m simply your method of transportation. That’s why he came to visit me actually, to ask for my help in getting you here.’

  ‘Then why aren’t we going to his farm?’

  ‘You’ll have to ask him.’

  ‘But I ended our engagement!’

  ‘Yes, I would imagine that has something to do with it all.’ Lydia twisted her head towards her suddenly. ‘Wait, is that why you broke it off? Because you thought he was in love with me?’

  Frances hunched her shoulders. ‘Maybe...’

  ‘Oh, Frannie...’

  ‘Well, what was I supposed to think? He started acting strangely the moment he heard about your accident.’

  ‘Not because he was in love with me! Well, that’s one mystery solved. Mama and I have been racking our brains trying to work out what happened.’

  ‘It’s not the only reason and I still don’t want to see him.’

  ‘But...’

  ‘But nothing. It’s over. The way he behaved...it was just like Leo all over again. You don’t know how it feels to be rejected like that.’

  ‘Excuse me—’ Lydia sounded aggrieved ‘—but do I need to remind you of that scene in his farmhouse?’

  ‘Well, it’s happened to me twice! I’d be a fool to risk it again.’

  ‘But maybe Arthur wasn’t rejecting you. You could just let him explain.’

  ‘Why?’ She regarded her sister suspiciously. ‘Has he explained to you?’

  ‘Not exactly. All he said was that he’d made a terrible mistake and he wanted a chance to win you back. That’s all, a chance, but he sounded sincere to me. Anyway, we’re here now.’

  Frances took a deep breath as the ivy-clad turrets of Amberton Castle rose up from the valley below them. It was truly a spectacular place, the grey stone glowing pale pink in the afternoon sunshine, as if it really had jumped straight out of a fairy tale.

  ‘Off you go, then.’ Lydia drew the trap to a halt in the courtyard. ‘He’s waiting.’

  Frances looked towards the house with trepidation. Lydia was right. There he was, waiting under the archway of the imposing front porch with his hands clasped behind his back, the same way he’d stood in her parents’ parlour on the morning they’d come back from Amberton Castle, the morning after the night when he’d undressed her... The memory made her turn away again, the emotions so raw they felt like an open wound.

  ‘Take me home.’ She gritted her teeth. ‘Whatever he has to say, I don’t want to hear it.’

  ‘Well, it’s up to you, but Georgie and I aren’t going anywhere until we’ve had our picnic.’ Lydia nudged her son conspiratorially and then threw a friendly wave in Arthur’s direction. ‘But I’d take pity on him if I were you. He’s not Leo and he’s not in love with me. Besides, the poor man has been positively miserable for the past month.’

  ‘How would you know?’

  ‘By the rings around his eyes for a start. Not to mention the constant frowning. I do so hate to see a handsome man spoil himself, but I’m afraid you’re the only one who can do anything about it. Honestly...’ Lydia raised a hand to her head dramatically ‘...all this tension is enough to make me feel dizzy again. If I don’t eat something soon...’

  ‘All right!’ Frances glared ferociously as she jumped down from the trap. ‘But we’ll talk about this later!’

  ‘I’m sure we will. Only be sure to include Mama in your harangue. She’s in on the plot, too.’

  ‘You mean you’re both in this together?’

  ‘Why do you think she didn’t object to our outing? Even Papa thought it was a good idea. Of course, Arthur did say some very affecting things about not being able to live without you and all that kind of thing. I suppose that helped win them over. Now, we’ll see you in an hour.’

  ‘An hour?’

  Frances opened her mouth to argue some more, but the trap was already moving away, leaving her alone with Arthur.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  ‘Frances.’ The way he said her name sent an all-too-familiar, all-too-unwelcome frisson of excitement racing down her spine. ‘Thank you for coming.’

  ‘I wasn’t given much choice. For the record, I was tricked.’ She turned around, making a point of glaring at him. ‘Lydia said you wanted to see me. Why?’

  ‘Because I want to show you something. Come with me.’

  He didn’t wait for an answer, though it hadn’t sounded much like a question either, turning on his heel and leading the way inside the house. Frances threw one last look after the departing trap and then followed reluctantly behind, trailing slowly through the great hall and into the drawing room, stopping short in the doorway as he took a seat by the fireplace. Not that she ought to be surprised, she told herself resentfully. He’d told her enough times that he wasn’t a gentleman, but still, sitting down first, without so much as offering her a chair, was downright rude.

  ‘I wanted to show you this.’

  ‘You sitting in an armchair?’ She didn’t bother to disguise her sarcasm. ‘I’m impressed.’

  ‘Not just any armchair.’ The muscles of his face looked taut with emotion, his brows drawn together in a line. ‘My father’s.’

  ‘Oh.’ She couldn’t think of anything to say for a few moments, speechless with surprise. She’d been so wrapped up in her own emotions that she’d forgotten the significance of that particular seat.

  ‘I’ve sat in it every evening this week. Ever since I moved back here.’

  ‘You’ve moved back?’ Whatever else she might have expected, it definitely hadn’t been that. ‘What about your farm?’

  ‘I found a tenant.’

  ‘But you love it there.’

  ‘Yes—’ his brows contracted even further ‘—but as the landowner, I have other responsibilities and it’s time I faced up to them. Lance and I have been dealing with the estate together for the past few years, but what with the ironworks and a family, he doesn’t have a great deal of spare time any more. I should never have expected so much of him, but then I never intended to come back here. I intended for all of this to be his and his children’s.’

  ‘And now?’

  ‘Now Violet and Lance have bought a new house closer to the ironworks, so I’m back.’ He stood up again, his expression resolute. ‘And I intend to stay back.’

  ‘You mean you’re going to start behaving like a viscount again?’ She clasped her hands in front of her, trying to create a barrier between them as he moved closer.

  ‘Something like that.’ He lifted an eyebrow sardonically. ‘Within reason anyway.’

  ‘Oh.’ She pursed her lips, unsure about what kind of expression she ought to be wearing. She felt strangely giddy all of a sudden. He was the self-assured, confident man from the promenade again, the one who’d asked her to marry him, told her she was beautiful and made her believe it, too. The one she still found irresistible despite everything...

  ‘I see.’ She cleared her throat, forcing herself to remember how he’d changed. ‘How do you feel about it all?’

  ‘Not too bad, surprisingly. The roof hasn’t caved in yet and I haven’t felt the slightest inclination to throw myself into the North Sea.’

  ‘Don’t joke.’

  ‘I’m not, not really. Only I’ve decided to stop taking myself so seriously. You were right when you said that guilt didn’t do any good. So I’m back, living in my father’s house and sitting in his chair to make peace with him. I’ve decided to make things right, as far as I can anyway. I’m taking over the estate like he wanted me to, but I’m doing it my way, not his. That’s the best I can do.’

  She clasped her hands tighter, trying not to notice how exceedingly handsome he looked, though the resolute look in his eye was strangely compelling.

  ‘Then I’m pleased for you. I hope you’ll be very happy h
ere.’

  ‘I won’t be, not without you.’ His voice held a note of conviction. ‘Besides, it’s too big a house for one man. It needs a mistress.’

  ‘Well, if you’re going to behave like a viscount again then I’m sure you’ll have no trouble finding someone.’

  ‘I don’t want someone, Frances. I want you.’

  ‘No.’ She tensed as he moved closer, his proximity making her pulse start to flutter unsteadily. ‘It’s too late for that.’

  ‘Why?’ He reached a hand out. ‘Tell me why you broke off our engagement, the real reason this time.’

  ‘How can you ask me that?’ She was almost relieved to feel angry again, batting his hand away accusingly. ‘How dare you when you were the one who changed your mind about us? I saw it in your eyes. You were the one who wanted to end our engagement! Or do you deny it?’

  He hesitated for a moment and then shook his head. ‘No. I can’t deny it.’

  ‘Oh.’ She gasped for breath, feeling as though she’d fallen into deep water suddenly. Even though she’d suspected the truth, hearing it from his own lips felt even more painful, as if she were sinking slowly beneath the surface with the force of the waves pushing her downwards.

  ‘In that case, there’s nothing else to say.’ She started towards the door, desperate to get away from him and out into the open air again.

  ‘There’s plenty to say.’ Arthur stepped around her, blocking her path. ‘Yes, I intended to call off our engagement that day, but I knew the moment you started speaking that it wasn’t what I wanted, not really.’

  ‘So it was just a whim?’ She gave a brittle laugh.

  ‘No. Look, I was a damned fool in the way that I acted and an even bigger fool not to come to my senses sooner. My only excuse is that I was afraid. I’ve been afraid for a long time, mostly of myself, of what happened six years ago and the chances of it happening again. I’ve been so afraid of the past repeating itself that I’ve been jumping at shadows. I thought I was free, but I was only making another prison for myself. I should have told you the whole truth before. I intended to, but I thought—hoped—that I’d moved on, that I was stronger. Then after what happened to Violet and then Lydia, I panicked. I did the very thing I was afraid of and ran away.’

  ‘You were afraid?’ She felt as though she were rising to the surface of the water again, her heart aching at the thought of what he must have suffered. ‘I thought it was because you still had feelings for Lydia.’

  ‘No. I was worried about her, of course, but that wasn’t the reason I behaved so badly. I was scared that I wouldn’t be able to cope if anything like that happened to you. I pushed you away because I was afraid of how I might react, of running away again and hurting you. I thought that breaking our engagement was for the best, but I’ve been miserable every moment since.’ He reached for one of her hands, clasping it between both of his and pressing a kiss against the knuckles. ‘Frances, if it was my behaviour that ruined everything, then at least give me a chance to mend it...please.’

  ‘No.’ She hardened her heart at the imploring look on his face. ‘I’m glad that you’ve found a way to come home, but I can’t be part of it. I’ve moved on. My jewellery is selling well and people value my work. They value me. I’m making a life for myself on my own.’

  ‘Frances...’

  ‘No.’ She shook her head adamantly. ‘I trusted you. I thought that you were nothing like Leo, but you rejected me just the same. I won’t be hurt like that again.’

  ‘I know.’ He squeezed her hand tighter, his gaze darkening. ‘I know that I hurt you, but it won’t happen again, Frances, I promise.’

  She held her breath, looking down at their joined hands and resisting the urge to believe him. Part of her wanted to keep sinking, to fall to the very depths of the ocean and hide, but somehow his words buoyed her up again. He hadn’t rejected her because he didn’t want her, but because in some strange way he’d been trying to protect her. He’d been afraid of himself and his own inner demons... If she turned away from him and left now, wouldn’t she be making the same mistake, letting her own fear of rejection control her? Would she spend the rest of her life in a prison, jumping at shadows, too?

  ‘How do I know you won’t hurt me?’ She asked the question hesitantly.

  ‘Because from now on, I’ll be as strong as you need me to be. I can’t control the future, but I can stop being afraid of the past. When I left six years ago, it was because I thought my future held only misery and heartache. So I ran and I kept on running until a week ago. It took Lance to make me realise that. Now I know who I am and what I want and I want to be here. I won’t hide away any more. I intend to face up to my mistakes and be a better man. Because of you.’ He closed what was left of the space between them, lifting both of their hands and holding them over his heart. ‘I love you, Frances. I might still make mistakes, but I promise that I’ll always be here for you. I’ll never run away or make you feel rejected ever again, I swear it.’

  ‘Never?’ She could see the sunlight sparkling above the surface of the water now as he nodded, his eyes lighting up with a glimmer of hope.

  ‘Just give me a chance to prove myself. You don’t have to agree to marry me. Just give me a chance to win you back again.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘No?’ The light in his eyes faded, the muscles in his jaw all bunching at once.

  ‘No.’ She heaved in a deep breath as she burst through the waves and into the air again. ‘You don’t need to prove yourself because I already believe you. Whatever challenges we face in the future, we’ll face them together. I don’t want to hide away any more either. I want to be your wife.’ She swayed forward into his arms. ‘I love you, too, Arthur Amberton. I always have.’

  * * *

  ‘No veils.’ Frances stood in the middle of her bedroom floor, hands on her hips.

  ‘But it’s traditional, dear. Brides wear veils, even ones who only give their family a few days to prepare.’ Her mother sounded faintly recriminatory. ‘Now do be careful where you put your arms. You’ll crush the silk.’

  ‘It’s no good arguing, Mama.’ Lydia perched on a window seat, swinging her legs in a distinctly girlish fashion. ‘You know she never backs down.’

  ‘Well, I don’t know how I ended up with two such stubborn daughters. It’s bad enough you deciding to wear black again just when we said you could go into half-mourning, but now this.’

  ‘I’m wearing black for John out of respect. Since I haven’t been particularly respectful this past year, I’m making up for it now. We might not have been the greatest love story, but he was my husband and he deserved better from me. Anyway, it’s not as if I’m going into seclusion again. If I’ve learnt anything from all this, it’s that we should all live our lives while we have the chance.’

  ‘Yes, but couldn’t you just for today...?’

  ‘And as for my wearing a veil,’ Frances interjected. ‘Arthur wouldn’t like it. He says that he never wants to see me covering my scar up again, so I can’t very well do it on our wedding day.’

  ‘Oh, very well.’ Their mother threw her arms up in defeat. ‘When you put it like that, I suppose not, but at least let me tie some white ribbon in your hair.’

  ‘You can do whatever you like with my hair, Mama.’

  ‘Well, I think you look perfect already.’ Lydia jumped down from the window and kissed her sister’s cheek. ‘I hope Arthur knows how lucky he is.’

  Frances looked into the floor-length mirror and smiled at her own reflection. Her scar was still there, of course, but it wasn’t the first thing her eyes went to any more. It wasn’t all she saw either. Instead, she saw a happy, excited-looking woman on the morning of her wedding day.

  ‘You’re sure you don’t mind?’ She caught her sister’s eye in the mirror.

  ‘Not even the teeniest bit. Why would I, when I have my own ge
ntleman escort?’ Lydia gestured towards Georgie, playing on the floor with a toy train, and Frances smiled affectionately.

  ‘And such a handsome one, too. Although I hope you’ll meet someone else one day.’

  ‘One day perhaps.’ Lydia lifted her shoulders and then dropped them again nonchalantly. ‘But I’m in no rush. I have nothing to prove any more and I’m determined that I won’t be anyone’s trophy ever again. If I do meet someone then I want him to like me for me, whoever she is.’

  ‘She’s my sister...’ Frances squeezed her hand warmly ‘...and I love her.’

  ‘Oh, do stop it.’ Their mother was dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief. ‘You’ll make me blotchy and swollen even before the ceremony.’

  ‘Well, we can’t have that.’ Lydia skipped across the room to give their mother a swift hug. ‘Now forget about those ribbons. I have a much better idea.’

  Arthur paced nervously up and down the pavement outside the church, fiddling with his cravat and lifting his head at every stray noise.

  ‘You know, we could wait inside.’ Lance stood tapping his foot beside him. ‘Considering that it’s November and the Yorkshire climate is really best enjoyed in summer, if at all.’

  ‘I’ll go in once I see her carriage.’

  ‘Afraid that she’ll change her mind?’

  ‘Yes! Do you blame me after everything we’ve been through? I won’t be happy until the service is over.’

  ‘You really are a hopeless romantic, aren’t you?’

  ‘You know what I mean.’

  ‘I do. Believe it or not, Violet actually had some reservations about marrying me.’

  ‘You don’t say.’

  ‘She even ran out on our first wedding.’

  ‘You’re reminding me of that now?’

  ‘But Frances will be here.’

  ‘How can you be so sure?’

  ‘Because if there’s one subject I know about it’s women and Frances loves you, for some bizarre, misguided reason of her own.’ He grinned as Arthur shot him a venomous look. ‘And because I can see her parents’ carriage at the end of the street. Now, I believe that’s our cue to go inside. Your days of freedom are over, big Brother.’

 

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