A Gift for Fiona (The Love Letters Series Book 2)

by Rogers, Suzanne G.

  “If you don’t mind, Miles, I’d like to return to Blythe Village to finish what I started,” Rory said.

  “The project at St. James?”

  “Yes, and Miss Fiona especially.”

  Miles nodded. “Then we’ll return tomorrow.”

  Iris studied Rory a moment. “Although you don’t need my approval, I believe you and Miss Fiona suit one another.”

  “I don’t need your approval, Iris.” He paused. “But it’s nice to have it, all the same.”

  His sudden smile reminded her of a wild stallion running free, and the atmosphere in the compartment seemed to lighten a bit. Iris leaned back against the seat, closed her eyes, and pretended to sleep. As she listened to Miles and Rory joke about things they’d seen in Liverpool, she realized it felt peaceful not to be at cross-purposes with the world for once. Perhaps when she finally left England, the injuries she’d inflicted on her brother might finally begin to heal.

  Yet again, Miles surprised his family by appearing for breakfast the following morning.

  “You’re popping up so unexpectedly and often these days, we should call you Jack-in-the-Box,” his brother observed.

  “Rory needed my help on a delicate matter, I’m afraid. We’ve had rather an adventure.”

  Since Miles had permission to be forthright, he related Iris and Moordale’s entire story from beginning to end. Lara was seemingly transfixed with horror, especially when he got to the part about the vicious assault and robbery on Moordale and Iris’s arrest as an accomplice. As he spoke, the entire table hung on his every word.

  “If anything positive has come from this debacle, perhaps it’s that Miss Braithwaite appears to have changed for the better,” he concluded. “She was far more tolerable on the journey back to London than she ever was before.”

  Angelica scoffed. “I hope she was scared witless and will never be the same! What could she have been thinking to put everyone to so much grief and aggravation?”

  “I daresay she wasn’t thinking about anyone other than herself,” William said. “I imagine her short stay in the bridewell taught her a valuable lesson.”

  “I don’t approve of her actions, of course, but I’m glad she’s safe and uninjured.” Lara shuddered. “Poor Lord Moordale!”

  William shook his head. “I doubt the Liverpool police will ever apprehend the robber. Even if Moordale could give them a description, I suspect the fellow is probably long gone. If the rogue was intelligent enough, it’s possible he was wearing a disguise the entire time.”

  The butler brought the morning post, with a letter for Angelica.

  “Oh, thank heavens! It’s from Fiona.” She tore open the letter and began to read.

  Miles, who’d been enjoying sausages with fried bread, paused when he realized his sister-in-law had gone pale. “Is anything wrong?”

  When Angelica didn’t answer right away, Lara’s eyes grew wide. “Do tell us what’s in the letter!”

  “I’m sorry to give you bad news.” Angelica glanced around the table, stricken. “Fiona’s to be married to Sir Harry in less than a fortnight.”

  Even William gasped in dismay.

  “Fiona must be teasing!” Lara was incredulous. “It’s not like her to be so impetuous. Besides which, she doesn’t like Sir Harry at all!”

  “She goes on to write that she’ll understand if we can’t attend with such little notice, and begs me to send along the remainder of her trunks without delay,” Angelica said.

  “I can’t imagine why Fiona would agree to such a hasty union,” William said, aghast. “It makes absolutely no sense.”

  “Miles, did Mr. Braithwaite and Fiona quarrel before you left?” Lara asked.

  “No, they seemed to be growing closer. I wonder…” He trailed off.

  “What?”

  “Well, I wonder if perhaps our departure made Fiona assume Rory didn’t care for her. He expressed his worries to me about that very possibility when we came away without a good explanation. We were trying to protect Miss Braithwaite’s reputation, you see.”

  “I suspect you’re right.” Angelica sighed. “Fiona has been at a very low point lately and may have taken his departure as a rejection.”

  “Nothing could be further from the truth! In fact, Rory was quite angry at the interruption to his courtship. We’d planned to return to Blythe Village this morning so he could resume it.” Miles made a sound of frustration. “He’s going to be heartbroken to learn he’s too late.”

  “Until the vows are exchanged, it’s not too late.” Lara folded her napkin and tucked it next to her plate. “I’m going to Blythe Village with you. As William Congreve wrote, married in haste, we may repent at leisure. I’ll do everything I can to ensure my sister doesn’t repent a hasty marriage for the rest of her life.”

  “I’ll have Fiona’s trunks brought down.” Angelica gave Lara a pleading glance. “Please dissuade her by any means necessary.”

  “Believe me, I’ll try my best.”

  William caught Miles’s eye. “While Lara is getting ready, perhaps you should dash over to the Braithwaite’s residence to give your friend the news. It’s best if he hears it from you.”

  “I’ll go, of course, but I doubt if hearing it from me will make it any less painful.”

  After breakfast, Rory returned to his room and finished preparations for his journey north. He’d recovered his purloined belongings from Iris and tucked his pistol back in its drawer, but his valet had his hands full sorting out the remainder. The butler knocked on his door.

  “Sir, Mr. Greystoke has come to call.”

  “Oh…I’ll be right down.”

  Bewildered, Rory hurried down the stairs and met his friend in the drawing room.

  “I thought we were to meet at the station, Miles. I’m sorry, but I’m not quite ready to go.”

  “Forgive me, but I had to speak with you before we leave.”

  “Can’t it wait? If we tarry, we’ll miss the ten o’clock train.”

  “There’s another one at eleven. An hour won’t make any difference now.”

  Rory peered at him. “You’re beginning to alarm me.”

  Miles told him about a letter Angelica had just received from Fiona with news of her engagement.

  “If this is a joke, it’s in bad taste,” Rory managed.

  “I’m perfectly serious. Lara is traveling with us to Blythe Village this morning to see if she can’t talk sense into her sister.”

  Fiona’s engagement felt like a stinging rebuke. “It seems to me there’s nothing to be done about the matter. She’s made her preference plain!”

  “Don’t talk nonsense.”

  “The night before I left, I felt as if she and I were on the brink of an understanding. Obviously, I was wrong.”

  “No, I expect she’s convinced herself of your indifference and made a rash decision without knowing all the facts. The way events unfolded, it was almost as if someone planned to pull you and Fiona apart.”

  Something seemed to click in Rory’s mind. “What did you say?”

  “It’s just terribly ironic that Iris chose to run away just as you and Fiona were beginning to form an attachment.”

  A dawning suspicion. “It wasn’t irony. It was intentional.”

  “Sorry, I’m not understanding you?”

  “I don’t know why I didn’t see it before, but Iris had me so worried I couldn’t think straight. We thought someone paid Moordale to ruin her reputation, but that wasn’t it at all.”

  “What other motivation could there be?”

  “Who benefited the most from my absence? In hindsight, it’s so obvious.”

  Miles looked startled. “You can’t possibly mean Sir Harry!”

  “It all fits. The night of the Quarterbury ball, I noticed Sir Harry arguing with Moordale in the bar. Afterward, Moordale rebuffed Miss Fiona and unexpectedly proposed to my sister. Sir Harry must have convinced a reluctant Moordale to throw Fiona over so he could swoop in and take h
is place.”

  “You never mentioned witnessing an argument.”

  “No, because it didn’t seem particularly important at the time. Don’t you think it was an odd coincidence Sir Harry should happen to stop by here on the morning Iris disappears? Thereafter, he delivered my father’s letter directly into my hands, knowing I’d leave for London immediately and without explanation. I believe he set this whole thing up to drive Miss Fiona into his arms!”

  “If you’re right, it’s a dastardly plot. But without Moordale’s corroboration, how can you prove it?”

  “I don’t know.” The sudden elation Rory had felt at solving the mystery slumped. “Without evidence, I’m just a spurned suitor casting slanderous assertions against a respectable man.”

  Miles scratched his head. “I wonder…could it be as simple as connecting that book of poetry to Sir Harry?”

  “Even if I could, it would hardly be compelling evidence.”

  “No, but you might be able to convince Fiona to postpone the wedding at least until you can confirm your theory with Moordale.”

  “I suppose that’s the best I can hope for at this point.”

  “You already sound defeated.” Miles studied him. “Not too long ago, you vowed to win Fiona over. What ever happened to facing down a challenge?”

  “It was more of a game to me then. Now the stakes are higher and I have far more to lose.”

  “The Robinson and Greystoke families are pulling for you.”

  “I appreciate the support, truly. In the end, however, the only opinion that matters is Fiona’s. I’m afraid I’ve lost her forever.”

  “She wants you to fight for her, Rory.”

  Iris’s voice rang out from the doorway. “Forgive me, but I couldn’t help but overhear. Mr. Greystoke has put his finger on the point exactly.”

  His sister entered the drawing room without waiting for an invitation. “I understand Miss Fiona better than you might think, Rory. She possesses a passionate nature and wants to love and be loved in return. Prove you truly love her, and she’ll break off her engagement. If anyone can win her back, you can.”

  Rory’s doubts suddenly disappeared and a new resolve took their place. “All right, then. I will.”

  During the shopping trip in York, Fiona let her mother pick out a nightdress and wrapper for the wedding night, and made all the proper responses about how pretty they were. Thereafter, they picked out a bridal hat and veil together, and a pair of slippers to wear down the aisle. The little pleasure Fiona managed to glean that day was from watching her mother select a lovely blue gown for herself made of fine silk.

  “Nobody will be able to keep their eyes off you at the wedding breakfast, Mama!”

  “Don’t be silly!”

  “No, the pleats on your skirt are so clever, and the trim is so delightful, I doubt if any Worth creation could be more fetching.”

  “We’ll see about that! I daresay you’ll bring back trunks and trunks of fantastic gowns from Paris,” Mrs. Robinson said. “I envy you. I’ve asked your father several times if we could travel, but he’s always been reluctant to spend the money.”

  “I’m quite looking forward to traveling.”

  In fact, the anticipation of a European tour was the only thing sustaining Fiona’s resolve. She almost regretted asking Harry to push the wedding back a week. Although the delay gave her and her family extra time to prepare, it also allowed a sense of dread to fester. It would have been better to get the nuptials over with quickly and move on to something more enjoyable. When she thought about visiting Paris and Rome, she could almost be happy.

  On the road home, their carriage passed by St. James church. Fiona glanced out the window to see workers putting the final touches on the new drainage system. A familiar figure caught her eye and she sat up straight in shock. “What’s he doing here?”

  “Who do you mean?” Mrs. Robinson followed her gaze. “Why, Mr. Braithwaite has returned…and Miles, too! They must have managed their business.”

  Something twisted in Fiona’s chest. “I don’t want to see Mr. Braithwaite.”

  “You can scarcely avoid it, I’m afraid. When we return home, I expect to discover they’ve both moved back into their former rooms.”

  Fiona fell silent. Her emotional reaction to Mr. Braithwaite’s presence surprised her. When he left before, she’d been forced to accept his indifference. Although she’d cried her eyes out with disappointment, she hadn’t laid any blame at his feet. Now, however, the sight of him made her angry. He’d done nothing to deserve her censure, really, other than failing to return her affection. Was it human nature to be angry at the object of one’s unrequited love? Perhaps so, but she must marshal her emotions before they met face-to-face. She vowed to be polite, but cool, and endeavor to avoid his company whenever possible. Collecting donations for the bazaar would be the perfect way to avoid him. Surely, the project at St. James was nearly finished and couldn’t keep Mr. Braithwaite in Blythe Village for very much longer. How ghastly if he should insist on staying for her wedding!

  Fortunately, when Fiona returned home, she was delighted to discover Lara had come as well. All other unpleasant thoughts were pushed aside as she hugged her twin. After Mrs. Robinson greeted Lara, she hastened off to make sure the cook was prepared to handle three extra guests.

  Lara took Fiona by the hand and coaxed her into the drawing room. “Let’s have a lovely chat, shall we?”

  She beamed with pleasure. “I can’t believe you’re here!”

  “Did you think I could stay away after hearing the news of your wedding?”

  “But what of the Season? You’re missing all the fun.”

  Lara shrugged. “That depends on your point of view, I suppose. If marriage is the goal of the Season, I’ve already made my choice.”

  Fiona averted her eyes. “I saw Miles and Mr. Braithwaite at the church when we drove past.”

  “Yes, we traveled together from London this morning and brought all your trunks. When he heard you’d gone to York for the day, Mr. Braithwaite decided to ride over to St. James. I expect he and Miles will be back for tea.” Lara smiled. “Did you and Mama buy some wonderful things for your trousseau?”

  “Actually, Harry and I are—”

  Miles’s voice rang out. “Hello, there!” He and Rory entered the drawing room. “After Rory and I saw the carriage drive by, we decided to return to Blythe Manor right away.”

  Fiona was ill-prepared for the dull ache of want accompanying Rory’s sudden appearance. It was as if she were a little girl again, gazing at an impossibly wonderful toy, far out of reach in a display window.

  “Welcome back to Blythe Manor,” she managed.

  “Thank you.” The timber of Rory’s voice sounded like music. “I can’t tell you how happy I am to be here with you again.”

  “You’re all politeness, I’m sure.”

  “Miss Fiona, my departure from here was due to circumstances beyond my control.” He sat in the chair next to hers. “Please allow me to explain.”

  “You owe me no explanation whatsoever, sir. If you’ll excuse me, I’ve just returned from York and I’d like to freshen up.”

  Before Fiona could rise, her sister touched her arm. “Stay and listen, I implore you.”

  “If you insist.”

  “I do.” Lara’s tone was firm.

  Thereafter, Rory related a shocking story involving Miss Braithwaite’s elopement with Lord Moordale. Although some of the details seemed difficult to believe, Miles was there to vouch for every word. Afterward, she was uncertain how to respond.

  “Is Lord Moordale expected to recover?”

  “That’s unclear at the moment, but his physician seemed hopeful,” Rory replied.

  “I don’t understand why you would tell me all this, especially when it casts your sister in a bad light.”

  “Iris insisted I give you a full and complete account of my absence so you’d comprehend more fully why I left here without saying good-
bye.”

  “Forgive me, but I find her sudden altruism out of character.”

  Rory laughed. “Quite so, but she’s trying to make amends.”

  “Well, I absolve you from any offense I may have taken due to your abrupt departure. No one could fault you for rushing to your sister’s aid. In fact, you and Miles are both heroes, I think.”

  “I hope we’re still friends?” Rory’s blue eyes seemed to shimmer with emotion.

  “Of course.” She paused. “I presume you’ve heard about my engagement to Sir Harry?”

  “Yes. I-I wish you every happiness.”

  “Thank you.” As Fiona stood, the gentlemen rose. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I really must change.”

  “I’ll go too,” her sister said. “We’ll see you both at tea.”

  Lara waited to speak again until she and Fiona were halfway up the stairs. “I’m so glad Mr. Braithwaite told you the story personally. Miles told William, Angelica, and me what had happened this morning, but I don’t think I could have given you the details in the same way.”

  “I’m also glad Mr. Braithwaite came to tell me what happened with his sister. It shows strength of character, I think.”

  When Fiona entered her room, she closed the door and leaned against it. Now that Rory had shown himself to be so very noble and gentlemanly in his rescue of his sister, she didn’t even have her resentment to hold against him. What exquisite torture it was to be in the same room with the one man who could lift her emotions to the heavens! She prayed his residence at Blythe Manor would be of blessedly short duration so her heart could fall asleep once more.

  After Lara and Fiona were out of earshot, Rory blew out a slow breath. “I think Miss Fiona has forgiven me. I hope so, at least.”

  “Why didn’t you tell her your suspicions about Sir Harry?”

  “One step at a time. If I expect her to believe my accusations against her scheming fiancé, I have to first earn back her trust.”

  “All right, but don’t wait until after the wedding to say something.”