by Ari Thatcher
Shots rang out from the trees behind Ewan. He dropped to the dirt not knowing if it was Walters or Lennox firing.
The two men ran off in the other direction. A moment later, two of Lennox’s men followed.
Lennox offered Ewan his hand.
“Where’s Walters?” Ewan asked.
“We saw him ride away just before the log almost cracked your skull. Pullman rode after him.”
“I’m not surprised he didn’t stay to be certain the job was finished.”
Lennox looked over Ewan’s shoulder. “Did they escape?”
His men shook their heads. “They’re dead,” one reported.
Ewan sighed, all of his strength leaving him. It was done. He and Tavish were safe.
Lennox grabbed Ewan’s arm. “Are you hurt?”
“No. Simply exhausted from waiting for the next battle.”
Nodding, Lennox led Ewan to his horse and stood by while he mounted. “It’s over now. We’ve won.”
Ewan didn’t feel like a winner. Even when he won a round of boxing he had excitement coursing through him. At this moment he only wanted to sleep.
Chapter Seven
Agnes allowed her partner to sweep her around the ballroom in an energetic waltz, keeping her smile rigid all the while. Her feet hurt. London held no appeal this Season. The only man she wanted was in Scotland. How she longed to see Ewan again. No, seeing him would only be torture if she couldn’t have him forever. Stay beside him. Share his bed. Bear him a family.
She’d feel worse than she already did.
When the waltz ended, her partner led her back to her mother’s side. Lord Helmdon, her father’s choice of a husband for Agnes, stood with Mama and Matilda.
Forcing a smile at the plain, unimaginative viscount, Matilda stopped beside her sister. “How delightful to see you here, Lord Helmdon.”
His mustache twitched in what Agnes took for a smile. Either that or he was fighting a sneeze. “Will you dance the next set with me?”
She had no partner for that set, leaving her no excuse to turn him away. “I will.” She couldn’t add the usual expression of delight or enjoyment. Her feelings were nothing of the sort.
Lord Helmdon was wealthy enough, proper enough and pleasantly situated to make him a fine husband. The only thing lacking was affection on either side. He demonstrated none and she felt none. Being escorted around Town by him was as exciting as her father planning which bitch to breed to his prized hound.
To say Agnes wanted more was a great understatement. After her father’s proclamation that she agree to a betrothal by the end of the Season, she’d given up hopes for a deep, lasting love. She’d settle for a fondness that would grow into love in time.
Desperation was upon her. Lord Helmdon was the man her father had decided upon for her. No agreement had been settled, and as far as she knew, her father hadn’t yet discussed the subject with Helmdon. Father had merely planted the grain of a threat in her mind as a warning to take her time in Town seriously.
The musicians played a short march signaling the country dance was about to begin. Lord Helmdon led her to their places. While the other dancers spoke to each other when they drew near enough, Helmdon kept his expression bland.
“The weather has been delightful,” Agnes said in passing. It was often said she could carry an entire conversation herself, so she would do just that. Mama always said a lady appeared at her best when she smiled. Smiling through her boredom might draw her to the attention of someone more interesting.
“I hear the Prince Regent will be traveling to Scotland in a fortnight.” Oh, why had she mentioned Scotland? Her smile became even more forced to fight off the sudden ache in her heart.
“I do not listen to gossip, so I have no interest in the comings and goings of the Royal Family.” Helmdon’s voice was as stiff as his posture.
“This assembly is quite the crush.” She was determined he couldn’t make her as dull as he was.
After the end of their set, Lord Helmdon left her with Mama after a rigid bow.
“I’m glad that’s done,” she whispered to Matilda.
“You should be grateful for any gentleman’s attention. If the prattle of Invernochty reaches Town, you might have no other choice of husband.”
“That cannot happen. I should have accepted one of the offers I received last year. None of them were what I seek, but they are nowhere near the dry character of Lord Helmdon.”
***
The next afternoon, after Agnes and Matilda received a note from Helmdon requesting their company, Agnes strolled at his side in Hyde Park. The sun burned brightly on the overcrowded paths as anyone who wished to be noticed gathered there.
Matilda followed a few steps behind, escorted by Sir Lionel. A pair of elegantly garbed riders on white horses halted in front of the four, blocking their path.
Lady Esther and Lady Eleanor Greenleaf, the most notorious gossips in Town, smirked down at the foursome. Lady Eleanor spoke first. “Why, Lady Agnes. After what I hear last night, I expected to see you parading about on the arm of a certain man.”
Lord Helmdon tipped his head at Agnes, who smiled at him.
She gritted her teeth, realizing word of her trip to Scotland had arrived. Pretending not to understand, she said, “You make too much of a single dance. Lord Helmdon is an excellent partner.” The words practically stuck in her throat.
The Greenleaf sisters responded with laughter that held no humor. “That wasn’t the man we heard mentioned. No, that gentleman would be one Lord Ravenscliffe.”
“Ravenscliffe is in Town?” Lord Helmdon’s voice was empty of any emotion, so Agnes couldn’t judge his reaction.
Agnes turned her head in his direction. “I hadn’t heard.”
Tipping his hat to the sisters, Lord Helmdon dismissed them. “As you see, Lady Agnes accompanies me this afternoon, not Ravenscliffe. You may pass that news along to anyone who would care to know it. Good day.” He guided Agnes through the grass around them and continued down the path.
Agnes closed her eyes in relief. Lord Helmdon would never act in any way that might give others reason to talk. As much as she dreaded his company, she was grateful to not draw undue attention.
By the end of the next month, she would be betrothed, one way or another. That would finally put to rest any remaining thoughts of Ewan.
After a brief silence, Lord Helmdon spoke again. “Lord Ravenscliffe has quite the reputation. I’m surprised to hear his name connected to yours.”
Agnes slowed her step, wishing Matilda and Sir Lionel would catch up so they couldn’t speak of private matters. “His father and my grandparents were good friends. We couldn’t avoid crossing paths with that family.”
Crossing paths in the literal sense. Several times, one resulting in the first of their unexpected, but so passionate, kisses.
How inaccurate had the tale of their acquaintance grown in the month since she’d left Grandmama’s home? Either word had only recently arrived, or no titillating embellishments had been added. She’d be barred from the grandest homes if a compromising situation was mentioned.
Agnes was crushed by Ewan’s lack of contact since she’d left. Propriety said he couldn’t write, of course, but nothing in his actions gave the idea he worried about propriety. That was one of the primary reasons she loved him. That, and his handsome, expressive looks, the sound of his laughter when it rang from deep within. There was so much about him to love.
Helmdon offered no sweet words of affection. No flirtatious looks or suggestive touches. Her heart was safe with him. She’d never have to worry about him taking a mistress.
Her heart was safe, but empty.
Ewan smile the first time they met in the forest had taken her breath away. His hair was a bit longer than fashionable, and tousled just so to make a woman think of how he’d look when he first rose in the morning. Or what he’d been doing to achieve such a tangled state.
Both of those thought left her aching with
desire. One more kiss. One more embrace. No, one more of any part of him would never be enough.
After he’d recovered from being shot, Ewan strode as if he owned the land for miles around, which of course he did. Pride always emanated from his attitude and bearing, making him stand out from other young men. Add to that his devilish good looks and many a young lady sighed when he smiled upon her.
Agnes had been one such lady. She almost laughed when she thought of how hard she’d attempted to be in his presence. She sighed when she remembered that was all the moment they’d shared. Then she remembered the dull but kind man walking beside her. She owed Helmdon her loyalty now, if she was unable to secure another man’s interest.
As if conjured by her sigh, Ewan ambled in their direction, nodding toward the few matrons who spoke to him as he passed. His pale breeches clung to well-muscled thighs. His red-striped waistcoat, where it showed below his navy Superfine coat, lay flat over his stomach. His starched cravat was neither too tall nor too elaborately tied. He walked as if intent on a target, and judging from the way his gaze had locked on her, she was that target.
Her heart fluttered with excitement at the same time her stomach clenched with dismay. What would he say in front of Lord Helmdon?
When Ewan stopped in front of her, she offered her hand, and he bowed as she curtsied. “Lady Agnes. It’s a fine day for walking, is it not?”
She dipped her head. “Not too warm yet, you are correct. It seems most of the ton agree, and they are all here at the park.”
He glanced around him as if just now noticing the numbers. “Yes, so it would seem.” He nodded a rather haughty greeting to Matilda and Sir Lionel as they caught up, then glared down his nose at Helmdon. “I don’t believe I am acquainted with you, sir.”
“This is Lord Helmdon, sir,” Agnes replied.
A crease formed between Lord Helmdon’s eyebrows when he acknowledged the introduction.
Agnes chewed the inside of her cheek, knowing just what distressed Helmdon. She should say something to dispel the tension between them, without hurting either man. Unthinkingly, she blurted, “We are headed to the Serpentine.”
“May I walk with you?”
“Of course.” Agnes began to walk, not waiting for either of the men beside her. The way her body felt upon seeing Ewan was so improper. Now that she was away from Helmdon’s side, she gave into the excitement bubbling from within. She wanted to giggle like a young girl. She wondered if Ewan’s kisses would still sweep her off her feet.
She’d never wondered how Lord Helmdon’s kisses would feel. At the moment, she couldn’t even imagine kissing him. Why did Ewan have to appear now? Given his penchant for stealing kisses and his reputation as a rake, he would ruin her chances of finding a husband.
“Lady Agnes?” Ewan’s voice pulled her back onto the crowded path. “Do you have an opinion?”
“Forgive me. I was woolgathering.”
Ewan’s smile said he knew where her thoughts had gone. “I merely suggested that Lord Helmdon might wish to join Lady Matilda and Sir Lionel. Now that I’m here your attention will be diverted.”
Her mouth opened and closed as she tried to form a response. A scalding blush burned up her neck and over her cheeks at the accuracy in his barb. Yet she had to fight a smile. Of all times for her to daydream. Anger battled her embarrassment. “My lord, you make such as assumption—”
“Really, Ravenscliffe, you do overstep,” Lord Helmdon butted in. “To speak of Lady Agnes in such a manner is intolerable.”
Agnes’s hand flew to her cheek. Helmdon was protecting her from the cad.
“You are quite happy to walk with me, are you not?” Helmdon asked.
She poured a small dose of treacle into her voice. “Of course. I’m flattered by your attention.”
All the light went out of Ewan’s eyes. His smile stiffened and he nodded. “Forgive me. I see my company is not desired. I wish you both a good day.”
Ewan strode away from her without looking back.
***
Tavish joined Ewan for a late breakfast the next day while Cecily slept in. “You found Agnes?”
“I did. She and Matilda walked in Hyde Park with a pair of gentlemen.”
“She must have been pleased to see you.”
“Not so, I’m afraid.” Ewan pressed his lips firmly together. “She so much as told me she did not want my company.”
“Is she in love with this other man?”
He tapped his forefingers together. Agnes wasn’t the sort of young lady who could flirt with multiple men. And she’d never have allowed the kisses they’d had if she loved another man. “I don’t believe she is. She can’t have fallen in love so quickly.”
“This from the man who traveled all the way to London to lay his eyes upon the young lady he’d known for merely weeks.”
Scowling, Ewan barked, “I have business here in Town.”
“Business that could have waited. Or have been handled with a simple letter.”
“Did she say flat out that she wouldn’t marry you?”
“I couldn’t ask her outright while she was with another man. Even I’m not that big a cad. And I’m still not certain I wish to marry her. I want to know her better before I decide whether or not to propose.” In his heart, and his mind as well, he knew this to be a lie.
“If she didn’t come right out and say she was engaged to this other man, I’d say the door is still open. What do you plan to do about it?”
Lady Agnes’s face hadn’t revealed her emotions. She didn’t appear as happy as she’d been during the few days he’d spent with her in Aberdeenshire.
Yet she’d been dismissive in her attitude in the park. He’d been presumptuous, even rude, perhaps, but she could have subtly encouraged him to call. The outlook of a lifetime with her looked bleak.
Was there a chance she could be persuaded to spend time with him? She had every reason to not want accept invitations from him, given his lack of promise when he last saw her in Scotland.
If only he’d handled matters differently. Those last few days they’d had together were still fresh in his memory. The stolen kisses in the woods, and one brave moment behind the dovecote. He’d left her that day with full intention of suggesting he call on her in London once he’d finished matters with Walters.
Yet when he and Lennox were finally successful in finding proof Walters was behind the murder attempts, Ewan was buried under the mess the man had made of the finances. How could one man do so much damage in so short a time?
Unable to take the time to travel to West Sussex before she left for Town, Ewan had felt confident that Agnes would understand. Now he wasn’t so certain. It had been more than a month since he’d spoken to her.
How upset was she? Had she decided to marry someone else?
He couldn’t bear the thought. The idea kept him from focusing on what he needed to do before he could marry.
Life without Agnes would continue to be colored in grays and black, and he needed the beauty of spring around him. Before Agnes, he’d resigned himself to finding a woman he felt could be a good mother to his children. After Agnes, he couldn’t marry for anything less than love. And he only loved one woman.
The more he thought about it, he wasn’t willing to give her up so easily. “What do I plan to do about it? That’s a good question, Tavish. I suppose I must remind Lady Agnes that she cannot live without me.”
Chapter Eight
A week later, Ewan surprised himself by arriving early at Westbourne House in London for the ball his brother had assured him would be a great crush. He was certain Agnes’s dances would all be spoken for quickly, so he planted himself at the top of the stairs leading to the ballroom and waited.
If nothing else, he would be the first bit of gossip that evening. Who is this imposing man who dares to attend this assembly? Had he received an invitation? Why haven’t we met him before? Do you suppose he’s single? I must find Lady Westbourne and request an intro
duction for my daughter.
While Ewan had ventured into Aberdeen’s society on occasion, he cared little for the game of strutting about like a randy rooster. He cared less for the women who preened at him, fluttering their eyelashes more quickly than their fans.
He spotted Agnes just before her family was announced. He swept through the press of bodies to speak to her. Bowing, he took her offered hand. “Lady Agnes. I arrived early so I might be certain to be the first to offer for the supper dance.”
She curtsied and glanced at her mother, who watched them with a raised eyebrow. “Mama, may I introduce Lord Ravenscliffe? We met while at Grandmama’s.”
The countess nodded to her daughter, her lips twitching as if fighting off a smile. “Yes, I knew your mother. I’ve heard much about you since her passing. I’m surprised to see you in Town, sir.”
“How do you do, Lady Spalding? I discovered I had urgent business here and wasted no time in arriving.” He squeezed Agnes’s gloved fingers, which he still held.
Agnes met Ewan’s gaze, her brows drawn together, her head tilted in question. “I would be delighted to save the supper dance for you, Lord Ravenscliffe.”
“Excellent. I shall leave you to your many suitors. I do hope they will not be too heartbroken when they lose to me in the end.” He turned to Agnes’s mother. “Forgive me, Lady Fenwick. I am neglectful in not thanking you for the kind letter you sent upon my father’s passing. It’s good to see you. You are as lovely as I remember.”
Lady Spalding laughed and opened her fan. “Ravenscliffe, still the scoundrel, I see. I question if I should allow my daughter to be seen with you. I don’t wish her reputation to be besmirched. However, I trust you not to encourage any more gossip. Do call on us one afternoon.”
Nodding, Ewan walked away in astonishment. An invitation to call, and Agnes had let him believe there was something between her and Helmdon. Could it be possible that Agnes herself was the only obstacle he must surmount?