The Hero Least Likely

by Darcy Burke

  “Well, you can take yourself and all of your negativity right back out the same way you came in,” Mrs. Appleton scolded playfully. “I think it’s wonderful he’s found someone.”

  “I’m sure you do—especially since this attempt only required you to send him your best brooch and shawl, not request a favor of a friend to host a house party swarming with debutantes for him to pick from,” Simon muttered, not unkindly.

  Mrs. Appleton frowned. “Ophelia invited someone for you, too.”

  “Yes, one lady. And she still had a husband.”

  “To be fair to her, she didn’t know that,” Mrs. Appleton said softly when an uncomfortable silence had overtaken them.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Simon said with a flick of his wrist.

  Lucy’s gaze shot to him. A few weeks ago, it seemed he was still smarting over what had happened between him and Isabelle and now he seemed so dismissive. Why? What had changed? Actually, it was best she didn’t know.

  “All I was trying to say is that you shouldn’t be so sure he’s found a lady just because he asked to borrow your items, Mother,” Simon continued.

  “I’d like to think so,” Mrs. Appleton said with a sniff. “And if not, then at least he’s warming up to me if he asked for my help.” She clucked her tongue. “But I still think he’s found a young lady.”

  “Think so all you’d like, but I seem to remember that he could hardly get a young lady to sit with him at a meal unless she was foisted on him by you or Lady Cosgrove.”

  Mrs. Appleton pursed her lips and stared at her son. “You’re jealous.”

  “Am not,” he said quickly. Too quickly. He was jealous.

  Lucy could understand that and might have offered him some sort of reassuring gesture if she weren’t afraid he’d take it as encouragement to pursue her again.

  “I just think that you should wait until you know all the facts,” Simon said.

  “All what facts? An announcement in the paper?” At Simon’s grimace, Mrs. Appleton offered an apology. Lucy had heard rumor that while Giles had told Simon the truth of Sebastian’s and Isabelle’s marriage, the only confirmation Simon had received had come in the form of an announcement in the newspaper that Lord and Lady Belgrave had reconciled. “The fact remains,” Mrs. Appleton went on. “He has to have someone special or he wouldn’t have asked me for help in the way of my finest.”

  She had a point. Giles and his mother weren’t close by anyone’s standards and if he’d asked to borrow something from her, he had to have had a reason. Lucy’s heart squeezed in both a good way and a terrible way at the same time. Giles truly cared for her and had for a while otherwise he wouldn’t have done that. But was it too much? Were his feelings too deep for her? Was she being fair to him by kissing him and accepting his kisses in return?

  No. She was only hurting him more. Shame flooded her and made her gut tighten into one hard, painful knot.

  “Well, if he does have a lady he’s wooing, I’m sure he’ll do something soon to secure her hand in marriage and a brooch and a shawl isn’t what I mean.”

  Lucy had no idea what to make of his statement when Seth appeared at her side and shoved the newspaper in her face with his left hand while hitting the paper mercilessly with the index finger of his right.

  Carefully, Lucy took the paper from him, laid it out on the table, read the words he’d pointed out, then felt her knees give way under her as her mind—and body—fell into the black abyss in an action many fancy ladies termed a “swoon”.

  The burning, pungent aroma of a horrid mix of flowers and spices filled Lucy’s nostrils. She groaned and waved her hand in the air in front of her in an attempt to banish the nauseating stench.

  It didn’t go anywhere.

  In fact, it seemed to get stronger!

  “I think it’s working,” said a man’s voice.

  “I’ve never had to use them before, but I think you’re right,” came a feminine reply.

  “Perhaps you should put them closer to her nose and she’ll come to faster.”

  No! Move them away.

  Bullish man didn’t heed the demands of her mind and pushed those dratted things closer and when Lucy inhaled again, she got a nose full of foul-smelling smelling salts.

  She coughed then blinked her eyes. Her nose itched. Bad. Batting her left hand in the air to clear the space in front of her, she sat forward and gave a hearty sneeze.

  “Excuse—” achoo— “me.”

  Mrs. Appleton handed Lucy her handkerchief. “Are you all right, dear?”

  Lucy took to her unsteady feet. When had she moved to a settee? Never mind. She’d rather not know. From the corner of her eye she glimpsed that dratted newspaper in Simon’s hand. Had he been fanning her with that blasted thing? She closed her eyes and repressed a groan or some other sound of vexation. “I’m fine now, thank you. May I see that again?”

  All eyes went to the newspaper in Simon’s hand. “You read it right.” He raked a hand through his dark hair. “I have no idea where he got such a notion you’d marry him, but I’ll go speak to him, if you’d like.”

  “No!” Simon speaking to Giles would only make matters worse. She was certain of it.

  “Are you sure?” He tossed the paper down onto the settee Lucy had just vacated. “He’s taking advantage of you.”

  “Taking advantage? Of me?” she choked. Most would say it was the other way around. That she didn’t deserve him. And they’d be right.

  Simon nodded. “He needs a wife and for whatever reason he’s set his mind on you to fill that role for him.”

  “That’s enough, Simon,” Mrs. Appleton snapped.

  Lucy bit the inside of her lip. Hard. She didn’t dare tell them that she might have given him reasons to assume she might be interested in making a match with him, but she needed to tell them something. “Mrs. Appleton, I—”

  “Need to make no explanation,” Mrs. Appleton cut in. She turned to her son. “You, however, need to apologize.”

  “Apologize?” Simon and Lucy said in disbelieving unison.

  “Apologize,” Mrs. Appleton confirmed, then sighed. “Lucy dear, you’ll have to forgive Simon’s sour mood today, he’s been having some lady troubles of his own as of late.”

  Lucy nearly choked. Already? It had barely been two weeks since she’d told him she didn’t return his affection. Either he had no standards or he’d already had a lady in mind... She cocked her head to the side and nearly laughed at his grimace.

  “I wouldn’t call them lady troubles,” he muttered with a sour twist of his lips. “If that blasted woman had the good sense to listen to reason—” He broke off with a huff. “Never mind that. We’re not talking about her.”

  “No, we’re not—you are,” his mother teased, winking at Lucy.

  Casting his mother what had to be the most pathetic attempt at a scowl Lucy had ever borne witness to, Simon said, “Lucy, you don’t have to marry Giles if you don’t wish. He needs to learn he cannot manipulate people this way.”

  “Manipulate?” He wasn’t manipulating her, exactly. She’d kissed him. A lot. If anything, he had to have taken that as encouragement. Though, she would have liked it had he even bothered to ask her to marry him before just assuming she would. She stilled. Would she have said yes? Before she could have a chance to think about that any deeper, Simon’s words broke into her thoughts.

  “...he should have gone about finding a bride the right way by attending balls and such to find a suitable match. Instead, he’s decided to be highhanded about it and foisted his suit upon someone unsuspecting who cannot refuse him. But you can if you don’t wish to marry him. We’ll find a way to help you.”

  Lucy let his final words sink in and ignored Mrs. Appleton’s agreement with Simon’s offer of help and question of if Lucy cared for Giles that way. All she could do was wonder if it was true. Had Giles been manipulating her this entire time? Was that why he’d been so kind to her and Seth? Was it all a ploy to get his much-neede
d wife to produce his much-needed heir without having to court a debutante? Another dizzying sensation overtook her and she gripped the edge of the table to keep from swooning again. While it was clear Giles intended to marry her, she couldn’t say that it was any different than the way Sam had treated her.

  Had she chosen the wrong brother? Again?

  TWENTY-SIX

  Giles rhythmically tapped the nib of his quill against the inkpot for no other reason than it gave him something to do to occupy himself. The announcement had run in the paper today and he was certain Simon would darken his door with plenty to say about it.

  He’d better hurry and come by, Giles thought. Seth had made it a habit for the past two days to come by after lunch and Giles would be damned if he’d discuss anything with Simon while Seth was in his home. It might not be good for their already unsteady relationship if Giles were to throw the man out of his house in front of his soon-to-be nephew.

  But Giles would do it.

  Then it happened. No sooner had he finished his thought, a series of four loud bangs rattled his front door.

  Tension knotted his muscles as he waited for Tarley to show the man into Giles’ study.

  A moment later, a red-faced Lucy crossed the threshold.

  Giles jumped to his feet, or tried to. Biting back a curse at hitting both of his knees on the underside of his desk, he stood.

  “What’s wrong?” he unintentionally barked. He wasn’t too familiar with ladies, but assumed something had to be wrong or her cheeks wouldn’t be so red or shimmer with tears.

  “You used me,” she spat.

  Used her? How had he done that? “How?” he choked.

  She pulled out a copy of the newspaper and tossed it down on his desk. “It was all a game to you, wasn’t it?”

  “A game?” he repeated. His mind raced to make sense of what she’d meant by a game. He didn’t even like games.

  “You...you...were kind to me and Seth and got me to trust you,” she said, swiping at the tears streaming down her face. “But it was all a game.”

  “A game?” he repeated again, feeling even more like a fool. “I don’t understand.”

  “An act. You were just pretending.”

  “I wasn’t pretending. I like spending time with you and Seth.” He took a step toward her. “I like kissing you.”

  The way she pulled back at his words as if he’d slapped her stopped him cold. That had been the wrong thing to say.

  “Lucy,” he rasped, his heart twisting in his chest. He clenched his jaw to keep it steady and fought the urge to take her in his arms. That might only make her angrier with him. He swallowed convulsively. “I’m sorry.” For what he didn’t know. It just seemed the right thing to say.

  “How could you do this? I trusted you.”

  “What did I do?” He knew it was a stupid question. He should already know. Unfortunately, he didn’t.

  “Used me.” She blinked her eyes rapidly as if she were trying to hold back another round of tears. The gesture only made him weaker in the knees.

  “How?” It would seem they’d just had these same words, but he still couldn’t understand what she’d meant. “How did I use you?” he clarified.

  “You don’t care about me, you just need a wife and any wife will do.”

  Now it was Giles’ turn to pull back as if he’d been struck. “No, I don’t.” He crossed his arms. “I don’t need any wife.”

  “But your heir?”

  He shrugged. “I have a cousin.”

  “I’m sure you do, but I’m sure you’d rather it be your own seed who inherits.”

  “I don’t care.” He crossed his arms. “I’d never given much thought to actually marrying anyone until recently, and even then, I wasn’t so convinced.”

  “Then why did you put our marriage announcement in the paper?”

  “Because I’d finally found someone I wanted to marry.”

  An expression he couldn’t interpret came over her face. “Wanted?”

  He nodded slowly. “I wanted to marry you.” He took a deep breath. “I still do, too.”

  “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why do you want to marry me?”

  Didn’t she already know? Had he not made it clear to her?

  She lifted her hand to her eye and wiped away her tears, imploring him with her eyes as she waited for his answer.

  He had a crippling feeling his answer meant a lot to her. The knowledge terrified him. “I like kissing you. I’d like to do more than kiss you.” Though flames licked his face at his admission, it didn’t make it any less true. “I want to live with you and see you every day. I want you to be the one who grows heavy with my heir—if I’m to have one. And if not, I’ll be content with that because it’ll be you who I wake up next to and go to sleep with at night.”

  There, he’d said it. He felt like a complete fool, but he’d said it.

  “Me?” she squeaked.

  “Yes, you.” He pulled her to him. “My mother tried to help me find a match. But I didn’t want any of them.”

  “Why not?”

  “They didn’t drive me to distraction with their mere presence.” He framed her face and brushed his lips over hers. “They didn’t make me wonder what it’d be like to kiss them. And they certainly didn’t make me mad with the desire to discover every inch of them and claim them as mine forever.”

  A dark shadow came over her face and something flickered in her eyes. “I can’t,” she choked, pulling away.

  “Can’t what?”

  “I can’t marry you, Giles.”

  He stared at her unblinkingly. “Why?”

  “I’m not good enough.”

  “Good enough?” What did that mean? Of course she was good enough. She was scores better than any of the ladies his mother had tried to introduce him to.

  “My past is riddled with reasons why I’m not a good match for you.”

  “I don’t see them,” he said honestly. He reached for her again, but she didn’t budge. “To me, you’re perfect.”

  “No, I’m not,” she said on a shaky laugh.

  He moved toward her. “Neither am I.”

  “But it’s all right for you. You have a title.”

  He’d never thought of that as an excuse before. “You will, too. You’ll be a baroness.”

  “I don’t even know how a baroness should behave,” she burst out, her voice uneven and three pitches higher than usual.

  He squeezed her hand to reassure her. “My mother and Isabelle can help you.”

  Lucy shook her head. “I don’t think I can be your baroness.”

  “Then, don’t,” he countered, dropping a kiss on her lips. “Just be my wife.”

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  The wedding could not come soon enough for Giles’ liking. Until it did, he’d have to settle for making up excuses to go see Lucy at the library and sneak kisses from her whenever possible. Someone—most likely his mother—had informed her that young ladies who are soon to be a baroness shouldn’t go to a gentleman’s lodgings. Not even with a chaperone. And not even to collect her child.

  She’d also been advised to stop working in the library. Fortunately for Giles she hadn’t heeded that advice completely. She only “helped”, without wages so it wasn’t considered work.

  He drummed his fingers on the edge of his desk and mentally counted the days until the wedding. Ten. He’d survive that, wouldn’t he?

  “My lord, Mr. Appleton is here to see you.”

  Giles’ skin prickled. Which Mr. Appleton had come to see him? Surely it wouldn’t actually be Simon.

  It wasn’t.

  Mr. Walter Appleton came in and removed his grey felt hat before taking a seat opposite Giles. “Forgive me for not coming by sooner to offer my felicitations. I thought you might be occupied and wanted to come back when I had news on the other matter.”

  Right, the other matter. “Do you?”

  “Of course.” He straighten
ed the cuff on his brown coat then bent to retrieve a slim stack of documents from his satchel.

  “And?” Giles burst out when it would appear Mr. Appleton wasn’t on the verge of speaking.

  “There’s a way you can regain control of the barony and have access to the trust,” Mr. Appleton said.

  “The trust for my heir?” Giles asked for clarification.

  Mr. Appleton nodded.

  Giles wouldn’t tell the man this because it was quite clear he’d spent a lot of his time and resources to pursue this, but he was a little disappointed this was all Mr. Appleton wanted to speak to him about. “I won’t need it, will I?”

  “No. You certainly will not be lacking in funds. But don’t you want it?”

  Giles blinked. “No. Why would I?”

  “Because it was unjustly denied to you.”

  Unjustly? He didn’t think so. His father could do with his money as he wished, couldn’t he? Frankly, he was relieved that the man had seen fit to allow Giles to inherit his assets and their earnings after his twentieth birthday. He didn’t need the trust. “That’s all right, I don’t need it.”

  “No, it’s not all right,” Mr. Appleton snapped. He covered his face with his hands, then exhaled and dropped his hands back to his lap. “Giles, this is yours. You deserve it.”

  “No, I don’t. He wanted the funds and rule of the barony to go to my heir and it will.”

  “Yes, but will it be your legacy to pass to your heir...or his?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  Mr. Appleton lifted his right hand to his forehead and idly rubbed the bridge of his nose. “As it stands now, you are just a baron in name. None of the responsibility of it is yours. You’re a symbol, if you will. The same goes for the trust. Both will pass to your son as if it were left to him by your father. Not you. If the responsibility and trust is yours, you can be the one to pass it to your son.”

  Giles wasn’t sure he understood the difference.

  “Simon isn’t my only son,” Mr. Appleton said quietly. “I have one other, but he... Well, he doesn’t bear my name and will not inherit my legacy—but the stingy leavings from another man. Don’t misunderstand, I was blessed that I have Simon to carry on my name and inherit. But sometimes I feel cheated that it isn’t my eldest son who will inherit my business and modest fortune. I don’t want you to face the same heartbreak.”