by Dawn Brower
“Don’t make things difficult for her,” Lady Corinne said placing her hand over his. “She’s already suffered enough don’t you think?” She lifted a brow encouraging him to agree with her.
Hannah secretly seethed. She didn’t need Lady Corinne to fight her battles for her. She could tell Garrick herself that she was fine. She lifted her fork and stuffed some eggs into her mouth and chewed vigorously to stop herself from saying something she’d regret. What was it about Lady Corinne she disliked so? Hannah’s gaze drifted to the lady’s hand. It still rested over Garrick’s possessively. Was there something between them? If so she couldn’t stay at the castle. She’d never survive watching him marry another woman.
She swallowed her eggs quickly. They settled into her stomach like a hard lump. Hannah set her fork down no longer having an appetite. “Don’t concern yourself over me,” she told them. “I’m right as rain.”
“We’ll let the doctor make that decision, “Garrick replied. “You should have let me know you were thinking of doing something so foolish.”
“Why?” Hannah lifted a brow. “So you could stop me?”
“Precisely,” he said. His gaze bore into her with such intensity Hannah had to fight not to look away. “You were injured and shouldn’t do anything without an expert opinion.”
“My lord,” Hannah said. “I think I’m an expert on my own body. I declared myself fine and I am. If you’ll excuse me I think I’ll go for a walk. I’m craving a walk in the gardens. They must be beautiful with all this lovely weather we’ve had lately.”
As if she’d know... Garrick kept her practically locked in a tower while she healed. She was no maiden in distress and Garrick was going to find that out the hard way. She might not have control of her funds but she was not silly miss who couldn’t take care of herself.
“I’ll join you,” Garrick said rising from his seat. “I would rather you‘re not alone.”
“But weren’t you going to visit the tenants?” Lady Corinne asked. “You have important estate matters to see through. I can walk with her.”
Garrick glanced down at Lady Corinne and seemed to weigh his options. He had said he didn’t want her alone and yet he didn’t seem to like the idea of sending her off in the lady’s care. That was interesting... What reason would he have to distrust Lady Corinne?
“Are you riding to the tenant’s?” Hannah asked.
“I had planned on it, yes,” Garrick answered. “But it can wait.”
“Nonsense,” Hannah replied an idea forming in her head. “Riding is much better than walking. I’ll come with you.”
Garrick’s mouth fell open at her words. Nothing came out of it though. He just stared at her as if she’d lost her mind. She wasn’t entirely sure if that was a good thing or not. Hannah decided to take it as a positive one.
“Absolutely not,” he finally said. “I won’t take the risk of you falling off and injuring yourself further.”
“I promise I’m an excellent horsewoman,” she said earnestly and then decided to tease him a little bit. With a gamine smile she glanced up at him. “I haven’t fallen off one in...” She tapped her chin with her finger. “At least a week or two.” Hannah tilted her head and said, “Oh, silly me, that wasn’t a horse. It was a carriage that felled me.”
“That was rather rude,” Lady Corinne said. “Lord Manchester didn’t mean to run your carriage off the road. You should apologize.”
Hannah turned and glared at her. “I don’t think I will. However,” she said returning her attention to Garrick, “I will leave you both to do whatever it is you were doing. I don’t need anyone to help me as you said. I’m fine.”
With those words she spun on her heels and exited the room. She wanted to slap both of them. For entirely different reasons... Lady Corinne had been so condescending. The little witch thought she could talk down to her. She knew there was a reason she didn’t like her.
She walked down the long hallway and exited through the back entrance heading toward the garden. The roses might be in bloom and she so loved them. Perhaps she could find a clever sprite that would help her find her true love. Her heart wanted to scream she already had, but she didn’t want to give into such an unlikely dream. Garrick had always been the one she wanted. Yet, she’d always known it was a foolish wish. A man like him wouldn’t look at a girl like her.
“Hannah wait,” Garrick called out to her.
He must be giving up on propriety to call out to her thusly. Maybe it was the irritation giving way to reason. He’d stayed away because he didn’t want anyone to believe anything unseemly was happening between them. The dratted man was about to give everyone something to talk about.
She stopped so he’d quit shouting. Everything inside of her screamed to keep moving... The gardens were to be her refuge and now he was going to spoil that. Why had she given her heart to such an obstinate man?
“You shouldn’t go alone,” he said. “Your injuries...”
“Are healed you dimwit,” she replied. “Stop letting your guilt overrun your intelligence.”
He frowned. “I can’t help worrying.”
Hannah shook her head and turned away from him. She headed toward the garden leaving him behind. How was she supposed to respond to that? He couldn’t help it? What gave him the right to any of it? So he’d run her carriage off the road. Hannah was fine and he had to accept that. She’d write to her solicitor’s herself even if Garrick already had. It was time to leave the castle before she did something she might regret.
She didn’t stop to see if he was following her. Escape was the only thing on her mind. Garrick was her one downfall and she couldn’t let him realize it. If he did he’d use it against her. Hurting him would pain her too much. If he made her feel guilty enough she’d give in and go back to bed. Then she’d slowly die of ennui...
CHAPTER FOUR
Garrick didn’t know what to do. His worry for Hannah had no bounds. He wanted to keep her protected and safe, but she refused to comply with his wishes. When she’d turned her back on him so brazenly and walked in the garden his first urge was to stalk after her to drag her back inside. He didn’t give into it though. She would not have reacted well to his domineering attitude and the last thing he wanted to do was make her hate him. That would be unbearable...
“What has you brooding?” a familiar male’s voice greeted him.
He glanced up and couldn’t stop the smile from forming on his face. The Viscount of Warwick, Donovan Turner leaned on the doorframe of Garrick’s office. His golden blond locks fell over his forehead haphazardly and his dark blue eyes were filled with mischief. Oh, how he’d missed his friend.
Garrick lifted a brow mockingly. “They let anyone in the castle these days. My staff can’t tell the difference between quality and riffraff.”
“If they could they’d have tossed you out days ago,” he retorted. The corner of his mouth lifted in amusement. “I’d count my blessings if I were you.”
“Touché.” Garrick couldn’t really argue that point. There were plenty of times he didn’t fully believe he was fit for the role of lord and master. “What brings you here?”
Warwick strolled over to the sideboard and poured himself a sniffer of brandy. He downed the contents and filled it again. Garrick stared at him unsure what was going through his friend’s mind. When he finally turned to glance at him Warwick said gesturing to the brandy, “My apologies did you want one too?”
“I hadn’t considered it,” he replied. Which was the truth. He’d been staring blindly at the accounting books for the better part of the morning. Hannah had been distracting his concentration and work had been almost nonexistent. A drink might be a good idea. “But yes, pour me one.”
His friend grabbed another glass, filled it, and handed it to him. Garrick drained half of it and set it on his desk then returned his attention to the viscount. “Now are you going to explain your sudden appearance?” He lifted a brow. “Manchester Castle isn’t exactly on t
he way to—well—anything.” The closest village was on the coast and had the unfortunate name of Sheerness.
“I can’t visit an old friend?” he asked affronted. “It’s been years since I saw you last. I’ve missed you.”
“Hogwash,” Garrick said. “You forget I know you too well. What are you running from? A husband or a father?”
He placed a hand on his chest and said dramatically. “I’m wounded you think so ill of me.”
Garrick rolled his eyes. “Some things never do change.”
His friend had been one of the biggest rogue’s ever to hit the London scene. There wasn’t a female he hadn’t been able to charm—seduction wasn’t far behind that. Most men didn’t trust him around their female relations, but a few were sly enough to find a way to meet Warwick. A lesser man would be jealous of the viscount’s skills, but Garrick hadn’t ever had a reason to envy his friend.
“Why change when life is as grand as it can be,” Warwick retorted. “but to answer your question it wasn’t either one.” He shrugged. “I had an amour with a certain opera singer and her current protector objected heavily.”
“You couldn’t find one unattached?” When would his friend learn things didn’t always have to be done the hard way? “Wouldn’t you prefer to have a little peace every now and then?”
“My friend,” Warwick said gravely, “Peace is overrated.”
Garrick shook his head. “Not after the past decade of my life. I rather look forward to a simpler life.” As he said the words the injury in his thigh started to twinge. He rubbed it absentmindedly. “And even though I may come to regret it—you’re welcome to stay as long as you like.”
“You have my thanks,” Warwick said. “Though I should warn you I doubt he’ll go away easily. There is always a chance he could track me down here. Our friendship isn’t exactly a secret and well—all of London is buzzing about your return. They all want to know if you’re going to attend the next season and select a wife.”
Why was everyone suddenly concerned about his marital estate? First, his mother and now in a slapdash way his friend. Garrick clenched his mouth tight and took a deep breath. His nostrils flared out with each intake of air into his lungs. The calmness was failing to come. “Bloody hell,” he said gruffly. “They can find themselves something else to gossip over. I am not in search of a wife.”
“Don’t shoot the messenger,” Warrick said and held up his hands. “I quite agree with your sentiment. Wives are nothing but trouble.”
Garrick laughed at his friend’s statement. He should have realized that Warwick would be the last person to push him toward wedded bliss. The viscount rather liked having his pick of the ladies.
“If you’re looking for entertainment,” Garrick said. “There is none to be had here. I understand you’re used to—more carnal delights—but you won’t be finding it here. There are innocents here and they’re not to be touched.”
Truthfully he didn’t really care if Warwick toiled with Corinne. It would take that particular headache off his hands, but he had to issue the warning either way. Hannah was still living in the castle and she warranted the protection his words gave. It would destroy something inside of him if Warwick ruined her in any way. He’d have to kill his best friend and he’d never be able to look at Hannah in the same way again.
“You have become utterly boring,” Warwick said. “But do not fret. I’ll refrain from giving into my baser instincts.”
That was the best he could hope to get from the viscount. Warwick was honorable in that much. If he gave you his word he kept it. He didn’t believe in playing games and was honest to a fault. Garrick breathed a sigh of relief and drained the contents of his glass. He set it down and grinned.
“It is good to see you even if it is under less than satisfactory circumstances.”
“I must say,” Warwick said. “Even though you’ve grown rather dull a higher station in life suits you. It’s too bad about Nathanial, but the earldom is in better hands with you at the helm.”
Warwick had no idea how right he was. Had his brother lived longer the estate wouldn’t have been salvageable. At least now he had a prayer of finding a way out of the debt.
“I hate to be the stoic and dependable earl,” Garrick said, “but I have to finish this accounting. Tell Bently to have a room prepared for you and find something other than a lady to entertain yourself with.”
“Oh I intend to,” Warwick said with a wink. He drank his brandy and set his cup on the table. “I’ll see you later.”
He stood and left Garrick to his accounting. A part of him wished he could follow behind Warwick and find something more enjoyable than tables and tables of numbers. Sometimes responsibility was a horrible state to find oneself in...
***
“This is not a good idea, miss,” the fencing instructor said. “The earl would...”
“He doesn’t have to know,” Hannah replied. “It can be between the two of us. You can’t tell me that you’re talents aren’t being wasted here. Who do you have to instruct?”
“Well...” The instructor bit his lip and flipped back a lock of his light brown hair. “Lord Manchester does practice with me often. He says it helps keep him active.”
He would take regular fencing lessons and keep an instructor on hand. Hannah had every intention of taking advantage of it too. She had been taking lessons for several years but had to stop after her father died. John refused to let her keep it up and said the expense was unnecessary. She missed it and still had the clothing necessary to practice. It was a split skirt sewed in a similar fashion to men’s trousers. She had made a point of wearing the ensemble when she went to the exercise room to ask the instructor to work with her.
“Well he isn’t here now,” Hannah said. “Please. I need to do this. I promise you I have had lessons before and I’m skilled at it.”
“I don’t know...”
“Oh let the girl do it,” a male said. “She clearly is determined to.”
Hannah spun on her heels and met the gaze of one of the handsomest men she’d ever seen in her life. He had beautiful golden blond hair and the darkest blue eyes she’d ever seen in her life. She’d believed Garrick to be beautiful and this man certainly would be a rival for him in that regard, but he was light where Garrick was dark. They were the opposite sides of a single coin.
“I don’t believe we’ve been introduced,” he said coming forward. “I’m Lord Warwick.”
“It’s a pleasure,” Hannah said and curtsied. “I’m Miss Hannah Knight.”
“I assure you,” Lord Warwick said. “The pleasure is all mine.”
Hannah’s cheeks heated at his words. He was boldly flirting with her and she hadn’t enough experience to handle it well. “The instructor is reluctant to work with a female.”
“Then let me take his place.” He motioned toward the instructor. “Please give me the equipment and I’ll work with Miss Knight.”
The instructor scratched his head and glanced over his shoulder. “I’m not comfortable with this my lord.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Lord Warwick said. “The earl and I go way back. He told me to entertain myself...” He gestured toward Hannah. “This is much more tame than my usual proclivities.”
The instructor reluctantly led the lord to the supply closet. Hannah followed behind to see if he was really going to give them the equipment for fencing. He handed him a couple padded jackets, masks, and foils. “The tips are blunted,” the instructor said as he handed them to Lord Warwick. “But they can still hurt if you’re not careful.”
Warwick laughed. “I’m aware,” he said. “Trust me.”
“I’m afraid I’ll regret this,” the instructor said.
Lord Warwick handed Hannah her equipment and then turned toward the instructor. “I have a suggestion that might ease your conscience.” He brought his hand to the man’s shoulder. “Leave and pretend ignorance. That way you’ll have plausible deniability. I’ll take the brunt
of any of the earl’s displeasure.”
The man nodded and agreed readily. He rushed out of the room as Hannah was bringing the padded vest to a close. “I’ve never seen a man leave a room that fast before.”
Lord Warwick grinned. “Sometimes I have that affect on people.”
Hannah slipped the mask over her head and gripped the foil in her right hand then assumed the stance for fencing. “On guard,” she said.
“You really are ready to do this.” He lifted a brow. “This is going to be fun.” He slipped his own mask and slipped the other foil into his hand. “You’re move, my lady.”
“I’m no lady,” she said and lunged. He met her parry with a quick thrust and the match was on. Hannah twisted, he turned, and blade met blade more often than not. They were either evenly matched or he was going easy on her.
“You’re much more capable than I thought,” the lord said. “You weren’t boasting to the instructor.”
“I never brag about skills I don’t possess,” she retorted. “I’ve come to learn honesty makes life much easier.”
“Let’s see how much you can handle,” he said with delight. “I’ve not had this much fun in a very long time.”
He flipped and landed on the other side of her. Hannah had to turn fast to parry his lunge forward. She flicked his foil away from hitting her shoulder. She attacked rapidly trying to tire him out or force him to make a mistake. He was almost theatrical in his deflection and attack. She had a few tricks of her own. Hannah might be slight but she made up for it in determination. The blades met over and over again until she lost her grip. Her foil slid across the floor. She followed it’s trajectory with her gaze and twisted out of reach of Lord Warwick’s blade rolling to the ground. She reached for her foil and lifted it up just as his came toward her. She pushed back and then leapt to her feet.