“Wait!”
Rory was too far away to hear, especially over the pounding of his horse’s hooves. Fiona wedged the book into the top of her boot and rode after him, but he’d dismounted and was halfway to the house by the time she arrived at the stables.
“Mr. Braithwaite!”
He paused. She had to wait for the stablehand to bring the mounting block, but as soon as her feet hit solid ground, she retrieved the book from her boot and hastened toward Rory.
“I’ve seen something like this before. Come with me.”
Fiona brought Rory into the house and down a set of stairs leading to the storeroom where she’d begun accumulating donations for the church bazaar. On a table was the set of books which matched the one in her hand. When she slid it into the third spot, it matched perfectly with the others.
Rory shook his head in confusion. “I don’t understand. These books are yours?”
“No, they were Sir Harry’s. He ordered a servant to burn them, supposedly because one of the books was missing. I didn’t want to see them destroyed, so Mrs. Wren allowed me to take the books as a donation.”
“So he doesn’t know they weren’t burned?”
“I don’t think so.”
His eyes searched hers. “You’re beginning to believe me.”
“Rory—Mr. Braithwaite—I want to believe you…but this is still not enough evidence of wrongdoing for me to break my engagement.”
“Do you care for me…even a little?”
“You know I do.”
“Put off the wedding.” His voice was soft as he reached up to caress her face. “Give me a chance to prove my case…and to show you how I feel about you.”
His fingertips traced a path from her cheekbone down to her lips. A moment later, his mouth claimed hers in a sweet, tender kiss which left her aching for more.
“He won’t ever love you as much as I do, Fiona.”
She closed her eyes and melted into his arms, unwilling to interrupt the pleasurable shivers dancing throughout her body. Rory nuzzled her hair with his lips and then began to trail kisses down her neck until he coaxed a moan from deep within her throat. He pulled back until he could gaze into her eyes.
“Marry me.”
Reality suddenly brought her to her senses, and she stepped away. “I’ll press Harry to push the wedding back a few weeks.”
“Fiona—”
“If I simply jilt him for no reason, I’ll bring disgrace to my family.”
He nodded. “Don’t worry, you won’t have to jilt him. I’ll get him to admit what he did.”
“How?”
He grabbed her around the waist, spun her around, and gave her another kiss. “I don’t know yet, but I’ll find a way.”
Chapter Sixteen
Sword of Damocles
AT BREAKFAST, RORY COULDN’T KEEP the smile from his lips. Although he didn’t want to embarrass Fiona by revealing his feelings in front of her family, every so often he would catch her eye and be rewarded with a mischievous smile. Despite his efforts at discretion, he doubted anyone could fail to notice his ebullient mood—or hers. Lara exchanged a knowing look with Miles, and even Mr. and Mrs. Robinson seemed secretly amused.
Finally, Mr. Robinson cleared his throat. “It’s a beautiful day. Have you young people made plans?”
“I thought Fiona and I could get started on soliciting donations from the businesses in Blythe Village,” Lara said.
“Miles and I must spend a few hours at St. James this morning to ensure the work is completed,” Rory said. “Afterward, we’ll help you.”
Miles nodded. “A capital idea if I ever heard one.”
“What fun!” Fiona glanced at her mother. “Mama, have you sent out the wedding invitations yet?”
“Not yet. Perhaps we can write them out tonight after dinner? With Lara’s help, I think we can manage.”
“Let’s wait. I-I plan to ask Harry to delay the ceremony for another two weeks.”
Everyone at the table made a noise of surprise—except for Rory.
“I won’t be able to tell him until he returns from his business trip, but I can’t imagine he’ll object,” Fiona said.
Mr. Robinson cocked an eyebrow. “You’re not having second thoughts, are you?” His glance slid toward Rory.
Fiona blushed. “Well, I…the thing is…”
“It’s my fault.” Rory grinned. “I’ve asked Fiona to marry me, but she’s not sure if breaking off her engagement is the right thing to do.”
The dining room was filled with excitement, but Mr. Robinson raised his hands for quiet. “I must confess, I’m relieved to hear of this development.”
Mrs. Robinson beamed. “Oh, I couldn’t be happier!”
“I only wish it had come sooner!” Lara exclaimed. “We’ve all been tied up in knots!”
“Sir Harry will be put out when he hears you wish to break the engagement, of course, but he must realize the age difference between the two of you is insurmountable.” Mr. Robinson peered at Fiona. “Why are you hesitating?”
Her eyebrows drew together. “Jilting a man like Sir Harry without cause has consequences. The respectability of our family may be called into question.”
“I mean to furnish the cause,” Rory said. “For that, however, I need Lord Moordale’s testimony.”
He described his case against Sir Harry, leaving out only those details which related to Lady Quarterbury’s colorful past. After he’d finished, a shocked silence ensued.
“I hadn’t thought Sir Harry could be so wicked!” Mrs. Robinson said finally.
“The thing is, I don’t think he is wicked.” Fiona gave Rory an apologetic glance. “I think he’s desperate.”
Rory stared. “You can’t possibly justify what he’s done!”
“Please don’t misunderstand me. Harry’s behavior is inexcusable, but I don’t believe for a moment he meant for Lord Moordale to be injured, or for Miss Braithwaite to be arrested. I think Harry wants an heir and simply hasn’t considered the consequences of his actions.”
“Forgive me if I fail to see the distinction.” Rory couldn’t keep the frost from his voice.
“Let’s not quarrel. I mean to put off the wedding until you can prove his wrongdoing, but I can’t help but feel a little sorry for him.”
“Proof or not, I stand behind Fiona’s decision to break her engagement with Sir Harry—come what may.” Mr. Robinson glanced around the table. “Since this may impact the family, has anyone any objections?”
“Quite the contrary,” Lara said. “I’m very enthusiastic about the decision, and I expect that goes double for Angelica and William, too.”
“I’ve no objections at all.” Mrs. Robinson reached over to squeeze Fiona’s hand.
Miles laughed. “I think you can guess my thoughts on the matter.”
“All right, then the engagement is off.” Fiona smiled. “I’ll tell Harry as soon as he returns.”
Rory caught Mr. Robinson’s eye. “And have I your blessing to marry your daughter?”
“You have it, sir, and I couldn’t be happier.”
The butler entered the dining room with the morning mail, which included a letter for Rory from his father. After skimming the contents, he smiled with relief.
“More good news. The hospital sent word that Moordale is on the mend. As it happens, Lady Quarterbury is traveling to Liverpool to see him.”
Miles nodded. “Perhaps when Moordale is fully recovered, he can tell us what we want to know.”
Fiona couldn’t remember ever being more blissfully happy. After Miles and Rory returned from St. James, the two gentlemen accompanied her and Lara into the village. They spent the rest of the morning canvassing local businesses for donations, and then ate a light luncheon at Mrs. Smalley’s tea shop. On the way back to Blythe Manor, Miles challenged Rory to a stone-skipping contest at a nearby pond. As the two men raced one another to the water’s edge, Lara giggled.
“It seems grown men can
be persuaded to act like little boys at the slightest provocation.”
“Indeed.”
The twins perched on a log to watch.
“I wrote Angelica to let her know the wedding has been canceled,” Fiona said.
Lara nodded. “Good. She and William were both very concerned for you.”
“I’m sorry for causing so much trouble. Now that everything has worked out for the best, will you return to London for the rest of the Season?”
“Will you?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t really thought that far ahead.”
“To tell the truth, I’m enjoying spending time with you, Miles, and Mr. Braithwaite. I can’t imagine any society party or ball could be more wonderful.”
“Nor can I.” Fiona’s gaze rested on Rory as he skipped a small flat rock across the water. “I finally realize what it means to be in love. I feel so fortunate!”
Lara’s lips curved into a knowing smile. “From the moment you first met Mr. Braithwaite, I knew he was the one for you.”
Fiona looked at her askance. “How?”
“It was the awe-struck expression on your face that gave it away.”
She blushed. “You’re embarrassing me.”
“You needn’t be embarrassed. In fact, your reaction reminded me of the way I felt when I saw Miles again last Christmas. He’d grown up a great deal since we were fourteen, and I didn’t recognize him at first. Nevertheless, I thought him the most handsome man alive.”
“I still feel wretched about keeping you apart for those four years.”
“I’d hoped we’d settled all that.”
“Yes, but after Miss Braithwaite stole my letter of apology to Rory and forged his reply, I realized once again how despicable it is to interfere with other people’s personal correspondence.”
“Miss Braithwaite’s actions were far worse than anything you ever did. When Angelica read that forged letter aloud, I couldn’t believe how vicious it was!”
“It was a struggle to cope. I don’t like to think about it.” She shuddered. “Anyway, Rory says his sister is quite remorseful for what she did, but I’m glad she’s bound for America.” A wink. “I suspect she and I are too much alike to ever get along.”
After ten minutes of failing to best Miles at skipping stones, Rory reluctantly admitted defeat.
“I hate to admit it, Miles, but you’re a champion stone-skipper.”
“My skill comes from competing with my older brother,” Miles said. “He and I were always trying to outdo one another growing up.”
“Well, I consider myself properly…defeated.”
“The word sits uneasily on your lips.”
Rory laughed. “Quite so. I’ve won the hand of a fair maiden, and I’m in too good a mood to feel truly defeated about anything today.”
“We’ve yet to finish our chess game. Perhaps a second trouncing will convince you.”
“Ha! We’ll see about that.” He paused. “Thank you for your help with Fiona. I couldn’t have succeeded without you.”
“I’m glad to have been of some small assistance. Sir Harry’s a formidable opponent.”
“Indeed he is, but I’m not altogether certain he’ll bow out gracefully.”
“If he’s a gentleman, he will. I’m not really sure how he could do otherwise. “
“On that score, I have my doubts. Fiona may feel sorry for him, but I don’t.”
“What do you anticipate?”
“I don’t know, but the man is not beyond some sort of retaliation, I wager.”
“Surely not.” Miles clapped him on the back. “You’re worried for nothing.”
With Fiona’s beautiful face smiling at him from ten yards away, Rory could almost believe it. “You’re probably right.”
The two friends rejoined the ladies, and continued on to Blythe Manor. When they entered the house, the butler appeared almost immediately.
“There’s a visitor waiting for you in the drawing room, Miss Fiona. Sir Harry Wren has come to call.”
Fiona’s smile faded. “Oh…thank you, Truman. Er, where are my parents?”
“Mr. Robinson has gone to London for the day, and I believe Mrs. Robinson went to see the vicar, Mr. Hamish.”
The butler left. As Fiona glanced at the drawing room doors, Rory noticed a flicker of fear cross her face.
“You don’t have to see him,” he murmured.
“I agree with Mr. Braithwaite,” Lara said. “I can visit with Sir Harry for a few minutes and make your excuses. You can send him a letter, or have Papa speak to him for you when he returns.”
Fiona shook her head. “I’m dreading this, I admit, but it’s only right that I break things off personally.”
Rory held up his hand. “No, I’ll speak with Sir Harry. He and I have some matters to discuss.”
“Do you want me to be present?” Miles asked.
“I think it would be best for me to see him alone, so the two of us can speak freely. If you’ll excuse me.”
Rory strode into the drawing room, where Sir Harry was eyeing the chess set near the window. The game was in progress from when Rory and Miles had left off the night before.
“Good afternoon, Sir Harry,” Rory said. “Are you interested in chess?”
The older man looked up. “A little. Perhaps we can play a game sometime?”
“I rather thought we already have been. I believe it’s your move.”
Sir Harry gave him an appraising glance. “I’m surprised to see you back at Blythe Manor so soon. I trust your crisis has been managed?”
“Indeed, the crisis resulted in Lord Moordale being admitted to Liverpool Royal Infirmary.”
“What?”
“Oh, don’t worry. You’ll be happy to know he’s doing much better.”
“Am I to assume you’re responsible for his condition?”
Rory shrugged. “You may assume what you like. Did you really think I wouldn’t find out you paid him to elope with my sister?”
Sir Harry’s eyebrows rose. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. If your sister has eloped, however, I feel very sorry for you.” He smirked. “When society learns about her licentiousness, the Braithwaite family name will be ruined.”
“The couple was caught before any damage could be done, but should you feel the need to spread gossip to the contrary, I would be forced to retaliate.”
“In what way?”
“By revealing your part of the scandal.”
“We’re back to that again? You can’t prove I had anything to do with it.”
“Moordale passed a letter to my sister by mean of a certain book of poetry. That book belongs to you.”
“I own nothing of the sort.”
Rory noted a smug gleam of triumph in Sir Harry’s eyes.
“Oh, yes, you do. It was volume three in a set of eight. You might recall the set of books you instructed your servant to burn? Fortunately, the set was recovered before the deed could be carried out.”
Sir Harry blanched. “You must think yourself very clever, but such evidence is insufficient to prove anything.”
“I also have the testimony of Lord Moordale.”
“He won’t say a word against me publicly, particularly when you put him in the hospital.”
“Moordale was the victim of a robbery, if you must know, and he suffered a gunshot wound in the process. I didn’t put him in the hospital, but I am the one paying his bills. I’m sure he’ll be very grateful—and cooperative—when I ask him to corroborate your involvement. At any rate, since the Robinsons believe me, your wedding to Miss Fiona has been canceled.”
Sir Harry’s nostrils flared. “If that’s the case, the cancellation will prove rather expensive to the Robinsons. You see, I’ve just purchased a controlling interest in the same Newcastle glassworks factory which provides Mr. Robinson with his main source of income. I’d think nothing of shutting the factory down for the foreseeable future.”
Rory was aghast. “Yo
u’re more contemptible than I thought!”
Sir Harry laughed. “Nevertheless, I believe that’s checkmate, Mr. Braithwaite.” He picked up his hat. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll show myself out.”
After the man left, Rory sank onto a chair. He may have won Fiona’s heart, but at the horrendous cost of her family’s fortune! How would he ever make it up to her? Movement in the archway to the adjacent music room caught his eye, and he discovered Fiona, Miles, and Lara peeking around the corner.
“Are you alone?” Miles asked.
“Yes.” Rory stood and moved over to the window to watch as Sir Harry mounted his horse in the driveway. “He’s riding off as we speak.”
The three eavesdroppers entered the room.
“You heard our conversation?” Rory asked.
Miles and Lara nodded, and Fiona averted her eyes. “I hadn’t thought Harry could be so cold and calculating.”
Rory gritted his teeth. “Your erstwhile fiancé is truly loathsome. I hope you feel less sorry for him now.”
“I can feel nothing but apprehension. What’s Papa going to do?”
When Mrs. Robinson returned from her meeting with the vicar, Rory recounted his conversation with Sir Harry. Although he tried to impress her with the seriousness of the situation, she seemed to brush aside his concerns.
“We’ll just have to wait for Mr. Robinson to return. Surely he’ll know how to act. Let me ring for tea. Let’s have it in the drawing room, shall we?”
Although the cook provided a tray of thinly sliced cake as well as scones and jam, the general mood was dour. Even Mrs. Robinson’s ebullience faded after a short while, and the conversation flagged.
Fiona stared at her cake without eating it. “Mama, was Mr. Hamish awfully cross about our canceling the wedding ceremony?”
A Gift for Fiona (The Love Letters Series Book 2) Page 18