by Ari Thatcher
With hope brightening his heart, he made his way to the card room to hide until the supper dance.
***
Agnes watched with mixed emotions as Ewan walked away. Her heart refused to give him up, no matter how much her head insisted upon it. Those passionate moments they’d shared made her believe he loved her. He must. Yet he hadn’t called to say good-bye when they left.
Grandmama had written to Mama about the girls’ part in rescuing the earl. Thus, as soon as Agnes and Matilda were home, they were relegated to their bedchambers with nothing more than memories of their adventure.
Her mother’s invitation surprised her. After he walked away, Agnes asked, “Do you think it wise to invite Lord Ravenscliffe to visit? What will Papa say?”
“Your father can’t turn a blind eye to an earl, and a rather wealthy one at that. There was no truth to the large portion of the gossip, was there?”
“No, but Papa has been so very rigid in choosing from whom I may receive calls. He’s kept me locked up in the tower unless you or Spalding accompanies me.”
Her mother smiled kindly and pushed against Agnes’s back to urge her stroll about the ballroom. “Your father is not so forbidding as you think. But this is hardly the place to discuss the matter. Speak to him about Ravenscliffe, if you wish to know the answer to what he feels.”
Agnes’s thoughts spun as she curtsied and smiled her way to a place along the wall of the Lady Westbourne’s ornately decorated ballroom.
Sir Lionel was the first to find her. “Might I have the first dance and the supper dance?”
“You may have the first, but I’m afraid supper has been spoken for.” She tried very hard to look disappointed, but the thought of sitting with Sir Lionel through a meal wasn’t a pleasant one. And yet, she was considering him for a husband? She was truly mad.
She oughtn’t worry about what might be said behind the flittering fans of the matrons, let Ewan know what was in her heart.
She must encourage him. Let it be obvious to him she desired to be his wife. To spend the rest of her days, and nights, beside him. The very thought made her giddy and slightly warm, but she blamed that on the press of people around her.
Sir Lionel’s gravelly voice broke through her daze. “Well then. Perhaps the first two dances?”
“Yes, that would be delightful.” He continued to speak but she had difficulty paying attention. What was it Ewan had said in the park? That she’d not be able to pay attention to her friends now that he had arrived. He was correct. She had thoughts for nothing but Ewan.
Thankfully Matilda found her. “Sir Lionel is here tonight. I do hope he dances with me.”
Agnes smiled. “He’s singled you out at every ball he has attended. Even our friends have commented on it. I’m certain tonight will be no different.”
As it happened, he chose the supper dance, and Agnes and Ewan sat with Sir Lionel and Matilda during the meal. After assuring the gentlemen were acquainted, Agnes asked Ewan, “Is your uncle still at Ravenscliffe?” She couldn’t ask anything more direct, but Ewan would know what she meant.
“No. He left quite suddenly. I’m uncertain if he’ll return.”
She nodded, unsure of what Ewan implied. Was Lennox holding Mr. Walters until the circuit judge arrived? Or had the uncle once again escaped capture?
She wouldn’t allow that murdering scoundrel to ruin her night. For now, she had Ewan all to herself, even as the entire ton looked on.
“Do you miss Fenwick Abbey when you are in London?”
“A little. I enjoy the clean air at home, and walking in familiar fields.”
“Would you be happy living far from West Sussex, do you imagine?”
He must be suggesting what she hoped. Would she be happy in Scotland? “I hadn’t thought much about where I shall one day live. I always knew I would go wherever my husband’s home lay.”
“Yes, I suppose most young ladies are taught such. One would be foolish to make one’s decisions based on the location of a gentleman’s home.”
She offered him a flirtatious smile. “I am sure there are some who do, just as they consider his income.” Then she realized her sister and Sir Lionel sat with them. What would Sir Lionel think? More importantly, what would he say to others?
“But you were never the type to consider a man’s income or estate.”
He knew her well already. She’d considered nothing but love until her father stepped in and taken the decision from her. Now her choices were narrowing. She let his statement hang in the air, unable to continue the conversation. Glancing at Matilda, she pleaded with her eyes for assistance.
“Lady Agnes,” her sister said, picking up the hint. “Sir Lionel was telling me about the sweetest filly he has acquired for his stable.”
Agnes grinned her thanks. “Do you plan to race her, sir, or is she merely for pleasure?”
“I thought she would make a good mount for my sister’s children when they are a bit older. They love to ride when they are in town, although presently we don’t allow them to do more than be led around.”
“Our father has some excellent horses. We ride often at home, don’t we Matilda?”
Sir Lionel smiled and glanced back at Matilda. “Perhaps we could ride together one afternoon before you return home for the summer.”
“That would be lovely.” Matilda shared a rare grin with Agnes, who was so happy for her sister. Sir Lionel hadn’t actually singled out Matilda from the ladies he was seen with, but his attentions were increasing in number. Both sisters hoped something more was coming. Matilda greatly admired the duke. What a joyous event it would be if he returned the sentiment.
Agnes realized Ewan had risen. He held out a hand. “Lady Agnes, might we take a turn about the terrace before the dancing begins again? The cool air would be most pleasant.”
She took his hand and nodded to the other couple. What would be most pleasant, and most terrifying, was the chance to be alone with Ewan. Her mother’s comments rang through Agnes’s mind. Would her father truly accept Lord Ravenscliffe as a good match?
The night breeze was as refreshing as they hoped. Ewan kept her hand on his arm and led her toward the paths where torches burned to encourage guests to walk. There were few enough couples there to give the impression of privacy.
Ewan spoke first. “I remember the first time I walked with you thus. You had white flowers in your hair. And you smelled of roses, as you always do.”
Her heart raced. She remembered that afternoon also. His embrace had left her burning long into the evening. Her body reacted to his nearness now the same as it had then. “You wore a waistcoat the same color as your eyes.”
His side-glance sent heated ripples through her. The smoky, sensual look did peculiar things to her insides. He pulled her off the path and behind a small tree. “I have missed you so. Every time I pass a rose bush I think of you.”
Gathering her in his arms, he looked down into her eyes, and Agnes forgot to breathe. Was he going to kiss her? Surely he was, or he wouldn’t hold her so closely. Her gaze locked on his lips, on the tip of his tongue as it swept across the dark pink skin. He leaned closer and she lost focus, closing her eyes to inhale the fragrance of his musky cologne mixed with the male scent she knew as his.
His lips were gentle on hers, pressing and releasing and making her hungry for something she couldn’t name. Lifting her arms, she wrapped them around his neck and pulled him closer. Her fingers caught in the locks of hair brushing against his collar. Her skin tingled where his hands held her. She knew she should stop, then lost herself in the moment and forgot why.
He drew back, planting little pecks on her neck and shoulders. “Oh, Agnes. I have waited so long for this. Tell me you feel what I do.”
She wanted to tell him, but reason awakened like the splash of a cold bucket of water. “It’s not right. We shouldn’t be out here. Ewan, I cannot do this.”
Trying to pull away, she tugged her arm but Ewan held tight. She ached
with need for him and her heart battled with her mind. “Please, let me go.”
His fingers tightened for a moment, then he dropped his hand. “Only for a moment. Never for a lifetime.”
The pain in his eyes haunted her while she tried to smile her way through the remainder of the night.
Chapter Nine
An undercurrent of twittering tongues preceded Ravenscliffe, as he crossed Lady Albright’s ballroom. Gritting his teeth and nodding at the occasional matron who dared peer at him through her quizzing glass, Ewan continued to search for the woman he sought. Already he regretted his trip to England. He’d hoped for at least a week in Town before reaching the point of exasperation, but after just one night he wondered if he was on a fool’s quest.
Turbaned matrons spoke to each other behind their fans or gathered their daughters behind them like gaily-colored hens with their chicks. He noted the young ladies were less discreet in their stares, some smiling enticingly. Any man attending such a gathering was in the market for a bride.
Ignoring them all, he found the object of his search.
Agnes stood with her sister, surrounded by a gaggle of likely suitors. She laughed at something one of the men said and looked completely at her ease in their worship of her.
Sir Lionel turned his head and his eyes locked on Ewan. One by one the others in their small group did the same. Tossing her fashionably short black curls, Agnes glanced over her shoulder. Ewan knew the moment she recognized him. Her full, pink lips parted, her smile faded, and her fingertips pressed against her collarbone before she turned back to her friends.
He hadn’t seen the one emotion he hoped for. Encouragement.
Acid burned in his gut, but he would not give up. If she thought she could dismiss him so easily, she had a surprise coming.
The crowd around Agnes parted as Ewan stopped opposite the woman who held his heart. Her smile had returned, wavering and fragile, ready to shatter at any moment. His chest tightened in a pang of guilt. He swallowed it down. His inactions in letting her know how he felt before she left Scotland had been done with the best intentions. Clearly she hadn’t seen it the same way.
Taking her offered hand, he bowed low over it, squeezing her gloved fingers with more familiarity than proper in such a setting. He refrained from pressing his lips to her glove, however. “You are quite lovely this evening, Lady Agnes. And you, Lady Matilda, are a vision as always.”
The other young woman giggled and fluttered her fan, something he never expected to see. Pretty as her sister, Matilda never used it for her advantage. She was never coy. Never used her beauty to her advantage.
Not that Agnes did. With her, her natural boisterous personality removed the need to flirt to draw attention.
“My lord. I am all astonishment to see you.” Agnes’s rich, sweet voice smoothed the rough edges of the nerves he fought to hide. “I understood assemblies were not your preferred enjoyment.”
Sir Lionel, brash as always, nodded his way. “Ravenscliffe, I must say you are quite the last person I expected to see here. Particularly after the cut direct you received in Hyde Park.”
Ewan kept his gaze on Agnes. “I find that what one says in the heat of passion isn’t always what one truly feels.”
Her smile didn’t reach her eyes, and her cheeks reddened. She turned back to her friends, her dismissal blatant.
Ewan took in her stylish curls with small pearls woven among them and the sparkle of her violet eyes. Just last month they’d lit upon seeing him.
He had much to atone for, and he must do so before one of these other men made her an offer of marriage. Wasting no time, he spoke. “If you have not already promised it, might I have the next dance, Lady Agnes?”
Her eyes narrowed on him, her chin lifting. “Why, I hadn’t…that is…yes. Yes, of course I shall dance with you.”
A heavy weight lifted from his shoulders. At least she did not loathe him. Or perhaps she was too polite to make a scene with the entire ton watching their every move.
When the present set ended and the musicians prepared for the waltz, Ewan held out his hand. When Agnes’s gloved fingers touched his, the familiar burn heated his palm. How odd that even holding her hand held a reaction so different to other women’s. How can one innocent touch create such a spark? After savoring the moment, e placed her hand on his arm and led her to stand among the other couples near the center of the large room.
Everyone in the ballroom watched them for any little sign that could be twisted into a juicy tidbit to share in tomorrow’s morning calls. He felt their stares as if they were physical contact.
The music began and he swept Agnes into the flowing moves. Their bodies worked as one, as if they’d waltzed together many times. She smelled of summer roses as always. The scent was now his favorite.
Looking up at him for the first time since he took her hand, Agnes could have been dancing with a stranger for all the coolness in her gaze. “Will you remain long in Town, my lord?”
Were there unspoken questions included in her query? Why are you here? Or, perhaps, why can’t you leave me alone? Assuming an equally polite smile, he said, “I’ll remain only as long as necessary.”
Her brows pressed together, then smoothed again, a schooled mask slipping into place over her features. “Well, you are quite the sensation tonight. I daresay Lady Albright will enjoy the fame you bring to her ball.”
“I’m delighted to add to the on dits Society enjoys.” That was an outright lie, but she would know it. If there were any way of whisking Agnes off to a private alcove or antechamber, he would. Wouldn’t that just stir the embers of the gossip they’d created in Aberdeenshire?
Ewan had to show everyone he wasn’t the rakehell they’d named him. At least, he was no longer that man. It rankled his soul to perform for others, but in this case the end result was worth the cost.
Her head tipped to one side. “I know you better than that. Unless you’ve altered your character completely, you have no care toward what is said of you.”
His heart warmed. She hadn’t changed her opinion of him, in spite of his obtuseness. “In one matter I remain much as I was. Lady Agnes—”
“It is quite the crush tonight, is it not?” She turned her face away, her step faltering as she cut him off.
He tightened his hold on her to keep her from falling. And to enjoy the feel of their bodies pressed so close. “I must speak with you. In a matter of weeks, your family will take you back to West Sussex and I won’t have another chance. Or am I already too late? Have you formed an attachment with another man? I couldn’t believe you’d have accepted my kisses if you loved someone else. Tell me so and I shall leave you alone.”
She wouldn’t meet his gaze. Ewan’s gut knotted. Altering his direction, he danced their way toward the large balcony. The double doors stood open to the cool night air and several couples enjoyed the illusion of privacy. He led her as far from the others as propriety—and the iron railing—allowed.
Torches lit the balcony, delightfully highlighting the bare curves of her breasts above the low-cut gown. Her scent perfume surrounded him in a cloud of longing. Clearing his throat, he lifted his gaze to her eyes. “Will you answer me now?” He longed to touch her hair and see if it felt as soft as it looked. As silky as he remembered.
“Which question do I answer? Are you too late? Have I formed an attachment? It matters not. The answer is the same to both. Yes.”
***
Agnes hated the harshness in her voice, but what was Ewan thinking to appear with an assumption he possessed her heart? She loathed him. Despised him for hurting her the way he let her leave Scotland with no promise of a future with him. Abhorred him for trampling upon her heart until it no longer was capable of aching. Hated him for looking so handsome tonight she couldn’t continue to hate him.
Most of all, she’d never forgive him for making her love him.
Blast him. She pulled her hand free and turned away to look out over the moonlit ga
rden so she couldn’t see the flames smoldering in his eyes. He stood too close, but so long as he was in England, anywhere would be too close.
“I feared as much.” His voice, low in her ear, sent chills over her, his breath tickling the curls in front of her ear. His warmth heated her skin through the thin linen of her gown. “I presumed you understood my situation. How could I ask you to love me when I didn’t know if I would survive the next week?”
“And I could have died in an accident while traveling to London. Unless a gypsy has told your fortune, can you promise me you’ll live fifty more years? We both know the answer to that.”
He bowed his head. “I couldn’t see beyond my duty to the earldom in that moment. I thought I was protecting you.”
Clarity struck her. Here Ewan was offering his heart, the very thing she’d hoped for. And she continued to push him away.
She was more a fool than he.
“I’ve been selfish in my sulking. If you can forgive me, I can forgive you.”
The expressions that passed over his face would have made her laugh at any other time. Astonishment turned to relief, turned to delight, turned to love.
He pulled her close and licked his lips as he leaned down. Her tongue swept over her lower lip. She trembled in anticipation.
And was suddenly aware of where they were. Pressing a finger to his lips, she sighed, her need unfilled. “First you must ask for my father’s agreement. Grandmama told him about what Matilda and I did, so you aren’t in his favor. He’s determined to see me married to Lord Helmdon.”
“Set your worries aside. I can be very persuasive when needed.”
Accepting his brief kiss, Agnes agreed with all her heart.
Chapter Ten
The day couldn’t be brighter for Ewan. When his carriage pulled away from the coaching inn in Newcastle, he felt that much lighter. His journey home grew shorter and shorter with each passing mile. The time until Agnes arrived to become his wife drew that much nearer.