by Jane Lark
It had felt good to have someone to speak to. He’d not had anyone who he trusted with personal concerns since Edward had married Ellen over a year ago. He shared nothing with his mother; she was too ill to bear his burdens too, and Edward’s brother, Robert, who was more often in town, was not the sort of man who cared for another’s troubles. Robert was a fast-living rake. He’d have no interest in Rupert’s concerns about Rowena or his mother.
It had therefore been a great relief to pass his responsibility for Rowena on to Ellen. Now at least he might focus a little more time on himself.
“I think Rowena’s young friend has a fancy for you, Rupert.”
Feeling a surge of bitterness, Rupert looked at the dancers. He did not see Miss Divine. He did see Rowena.
Kendrick was walking a circle with her in the midst of a country dance and he was speaking hurriedly, while she obviously listened warily.
“Ellen said Miss Divine seemed extremely disappointed this afternoon when she saw it was Ellen with Rowena, in your barouche.”
Rupert gave his cousin a sidelong glance.
“Miss Divine has seemed equally low in spirits tonight. She’s been glancing about the room every other moment since we arrived, and I’ve heard her mention your name to Rowena at least twice.” Edward laughed.
Rupert did not. He sighed. Lord, it was the last thing he needed; Miss Divine dropping her handkerchief in his direction, in the hope he would, metaphorically, pick it up and begin courting her. She obviously had mistaken his offer to waltz with her.
“She is looking at you now,” Edward teased.
Rupert looked back at the dancers and caught the gleam of auburn curls. She was indeed looking at him. He met the vivid blue gaze he’d only noticed for the first time last night. There was some thought going on behind her eyes, she looked as if, had she been stood in front of him, she would have spoken.
Sensation stirred low in his stomach. He might not find her stunningly pretty, but he did find her physically attractive. An unwanted image slipped through his mind, of that hair spread across a white sheet. He turned away.
Edward laughed again.
Rupert narrowed his eyes. “What she’s probably interested in is my title. The girl’s a schemer. I want nothing to do with her. I’ve tried putting Rowena off her, to no avail. So I endure her presence, but I am certainly not going to encourage it, Ed.”
“Well, that I can see. You bristle about Miss Divine, like a hedgehog...” Edward laughed again. “Even last night, when you were waltzing, I could see you loathing it. Yet perhaps a bright, young girl, like that, is exactly what you need, Rupert —”
“Miss Divine? Are you mad?”
“Not at all. You’ve seemed low in spirits every time we’ve seen you lately. Someone, of such a sunny nature, might cheer you up.”
“She is not sunny-natured. She puts her smiles on for effect. Do not tell me you are fooled?”
“I would say, her smiles cover her anxiety, and the way she laughs seems to imply the same thing, as if she is hiding her discomfort. She is on the edge of welcome here, and you know it. It must be a hard tightrope to walk.”
Rupert’s eyebrows lifted. They’d had a conversation long ago, when Rupert had first discovered Edward’s affair with Ellen. This conversation reminded Rupert of that. “The girl fancies my title and fortune and that is all. If I ever take a wife, I can assure you it will not be any woman like Miss Divine.”
Edward laughed. “You have a habit of seeing black and white, Rupert, while I see the shades of gray in between one and the other. People have many facets. Not everything is so clear as to be black or white.”
Rupert glowered at his cousin.
“So, tell me what Robert, my disreputable brother, has been up to while I’ve been out of town.” Edward smiled, having obviously deliberately changed the subject. “What rumors are afoot? Who should I be wary of, and who must I avoid because he’s slept with their wife?”
~
Meredith skipped into the circle with the other women while the men clapped, as her eyes were, unwillingly, pulled toward Lord Morton. She had a constant desire to look at him.
He stood with his usual manner of cool indifference to the world, tall and stiff. He was speaking with Lord Edward, and no longer looking at her. His gaze had quite clearly expressed disgust when he had looked at her.
Hugh grasped her arm, capturing her attention again, and redirected her as she made an error in the dance steps, and nearly moved completely awry. She blushed as he met her gaze and smiled down at her. Hugh did not insult her by ignoring her.
The music slowed and she skipped the last steps. She was breathless, hot and panting when she stopped. Hugh stepped forward and gripped her arm. Meredith looked back across her shoulder, intending to look at Lord Morton again, but before she could, she saw her father.
He lifted his hand, implying he wished to speak with her.
“Would you care to walk outside?” Hugh whispered, leaning toward Meredith’s ear.
She mentally sighed. No, Hugh did not cut her as Lord Morton did; Hugh insulted her by expecting things from her she should not give. He would not ask the same of Rowena. Rowena, he would wish to marry. Rowena, he respected. No one in this room respected Meredith.
Had he not made that offer she might have tried to avoid her father. But she was in no mood to let Hugh steal a kiss. No matter how pointless her hopes were regarding the Earl of Morton, she was feeling rejected, and now that Lord Morton was no longer chaperoning Rowena, Meredith would never see him. This happy interlude in her life was at an end. One day soon she was going to have to make a choice to marry someone, and it would be someone she did not want.
“My father is beckoning me, Mr.Holland. Would you take me to him?”
Hugh looked to confirm what she’d said, and when his gaze came back to her, it had an edge of irritation. “Oh, very well then. Perhaps later I could have the supper dance?”
“I... I am not sure...” She did not wish to dine with Hugh. She was inclined to torture herself a little more. If she dined with Rowena, then perhaps Lord Morton would sit with them.
“Meredith!” Her father’s voice boomed above all others. It always did.
She cringed a little as people about them stared.
Hugh swiftly bowed and disappeared.
Her father gripped her elbow tightly and turned her toward the edge of the room. Once they’d passed through the crowd he found them an empty sofa in an alcove, and bid her sit. She did, her fingers gripping the seat cushion beside her thighs as she looked up at him.
He sat too, sweeping back his coattails before taking the space beside her.
He’d never sat with her at a ball before.
“Perrigrew has a proposal for you,” he opened without preamble.
“For me?” Perrigrew was her father’s business partner. His wife had passed away six weeks ago. Since then he had spent a lot time at her father’s house.
“Yes, it is the perfect idea. I like it quite well, myself. It would develop a true partnership between us.”
She was not following what he said, though she watched his lips. She looked up at his eyes. “I’m sorry, Papa. What proposal?”
“A proposal.”
“A proposal?”
“Oh child, do not act as though you cannot know. He has eaten with us several times in the last couple of weeks.”
She did not understand and merely looked at her father. Her fingers were still clutching the cushion. She released it, instead clasping her hands in her lap, and straightened her back, trying to remember to look elegant, as she’d been taught.
“He intends to offer for you tonight, child. He wishes to speak with you alone. He is coming here to speak with you. He should arrive soon. I came ahead to have chance to talk to you before. I have given my consent. So you may say yes, immediately. But Perrigrew is an old-fashioned sort. He wishes to say the words to you himself, and then we thought—”
She stood, l
ooking down at him. “What words, Papa? Thought what?”
He stood too and took her hand. “That the wedding could take place in a week or so, with a special license. There is no point in hanging about with such agreements. The marriage contract has been signed.”
Meredith opened her mouth but no words came out. No. Mr.Perrigrew was older than her father! She had seen Mr.Perrigrew looking at her, often, but... She had never imagined this. How could she have imagined this?
Emotion welled in Meredith’s chest. She felt like crying and screaming all at once. She had never imagined such an end to her life.
She would rather throw herself off a cliff than accept Mr.Perrigrew. She would rather be Hugh Holland’s lover than Mr.Perrigrew’s wife. Her thoughts raced, spinning and twirling and tangling up. Oh God. How could she...
Turning away, without any thought or apology, she fled the room, her heart a pounding a drum in her chest and her ears. She felt sick and faint as she ran out onto the terrace. Oh God, no, please. I cannot marry a man I care nothing for. She did not stop. She carried on, one hand gripping her skirt, while her small still-empty dance card dangled from her little finger, and her reticule, which hung from her wrist, bounced against her hip as she raced off along the moonlit garden path.
When she reached a summerhouse, she stopped, catching her breath and recovering her wits as she looked back in the direction of the house. The path was dark, screened off from the terrace by trees, blocking any light from the ballroom.
She sat down on a bench in the whitewashed, wooden sanctuary— covered her face with her hands, and cried, feeling a wave of utter despair sweep over her. If this was what her father wished for her, she could do nothing else. Her life was to be given to Mr.Perrigrew. She would not come to balls, or parties, or anything... He would not even allow her to keep Rowena as a friend; she knew he would not. Mr.Perrigrew rarely socialized with the ton. She had heard him call them pretentious fools and accuse her father of social climbing. The last charge had been thrown against her father for bringing her out into the ton. Mr.Perrigrew had said her father would be seen as a parasite, and not a businessman, for doing so.
Her father thought Mr.Perrigrew a friend. Meredith did not think him a friend. Mr.Perrigrew had always seemed divisive to her, and this step only proved she was the one who was right.
Why had her father bothered sending her to school for a year to prepare for her come out, and give her hopes by telling her, frequently, how he wished her to win a title, if he then just gave her to Mr.Perrigrew? He must have realized, now, how stupid his hope had been.
Her skin tingled as tears trickled down her cheeks. Oh God. Her heart felt as though it was breaking.
“Miss Divine?”
Meredith stiffened, swiftly wiping away the tears from her cheeks, but she did not stand as she looked up at Lord Morton. She hadn’t heard him approach. But then she had been crying, and her hands had been covering her face. She said nothing. What was there to say? He loathed her. He would not be interested in her fate.
She felt angry with him suddenly, angry, bitter and resentful. How was it possible to love someone so much, when he hated you?
Rupert met Miss Divine’s gaze. He stood at the door of the summerhouse looking in at her. She was sitting alone.
The color of her eyes was nondescript in the dark, though the moonlight reached into the summerhouse and turned her white dress gray.
She’d been crying when he approached.
Rupert had seen her turn and run from her father, and although her flight was done in full view of the room, with no attempt to mask her haste, he doubted many people had noted her departure. She was of little interest to people here.
Yet, he’d sensed something odd in her sudden flight, and so he’d followed, with Edward’s words of earlier ringing in his head.
He was looking for the grays in between the black and white. Her distress had appeared genuine when she’d fled, and, now, well... Her eyes glistened with tears, making them shine like dark sapphires as the moonlight caught her face when she stood.
An hour ago, he’d have thought this some ploy, but the girl genuinely looked upset.
He had misjudged Ellen. What if Edward was right, and Rupert had misjudged Miss Divine, too? He’d been treating her pretty poorly if that was true. He’d made no secret of his ill opinion. But then he remembered all the weeks she had pressed close to Rowena, crowding his sister, and trying to outshine her by speaking louder, and smiling more brightly. Yet he should at least ask... It was only gentlemanly... “Is something wrong?”
She sniffed and then withdrew a handkerchief from the reticule, which hung from her wrist. He supposed he could have offered his handkerchief, but his mind was caught up in trying to see any gray in the black and white he had been viewing for weeks. He was still uncertain what this was about. But whatever it was about, she was plainly upset.
She blew her nose, then stuffed the handkerchief back into her reticule, before looking up again.
He was used to her smiling at him when she looked at him. She always smiled. It was a broad, open expression she seemed to have perfected just for him. He received it every time he looked at her. She did not smile now, merely looked at him with eyes full of pain, and something else... Anger?
Damn, was this some ruse?
His gaze fell away from hers. Her white gown glowed in the darkness, the inky color of night staining it light blue more than gray. It was like her eyes, hard to decide exactly which. Yet there was still a contrast between skin, and hair, and gown. The opening cleft of her cleavage drew his eyes as it ran into the bodice of her dress, like an arrow drawing his attention to where it should not be. He’d noticed that the girl had curves long ago, but until last night he had not looked at her closely. And now?
His gaze lifted back up to her face. If he could see the color of her skin, he would lay odds on the fact she was blushing, but the fire of anger had gone from her eyes; there seemed only sorrow in them now.
“My father has accepted a marriage offer, on my behalf. I was unaware of it...” After she spoke, her gaze dropped to the level of Rupert’s cravat and she sniffed again. “With his business partner, Mr.Perrigrew.”
Rupert frowned. He knew Mr.Perrigrew. He was older than Kendrick, and cantankerous too. Rupert would not wish such a match on her, no matter that he did not like her.
“What will you do?”
Instinctively, when she lifted her gaze and tears sparkled in her eyes once more, he lifted his hand and touched her arm to comfort her.
As soon as he did her head lowered and her forehead fell to rest against his shoulder. His hand shifted to her back, and he could feel her sobs as they jolted her body.
“Miss Divine,” he whispered, offering verbal concern, as well as physical comfort, as behind him he heard her father call.
“Meredith! Meredith! Where are you, girl?”
There were other voices too, several.
Rupert instantly recognized the danger. He was alone with her here.
“Meredith!”
Lord Morton drew away from her, his hand slipping down her back and falling away.
Her anger had burned out within minutes of him speaking to her. For the second night, he had noticed her, and touched her. Hope and longing suddenly poured into her heart as a flash of inspiration flared like a flame in her mind. She would... She could... Oh.
She did something she knew she should not.
There was a band of lace tucked into the neckline of her gown. It was designed to hide her cleavage, though she had always repositioned it to show her bosom off as soon as she arrived at a ball. But now... Her hand lifted, and she pulled it loose, freeing it a little on one side, so it hung from her gown, as though something, or someone, had disturbed it, and as she did so, her other hand clasped Lord Morton’s nape, and then pulled his head down. I am not letting him go. I am not.
He was obviously too surprised to react and pull away, and as his head lowered, she lif
ted onto her toes, and pressed her lips to his.
“Meredith Divine! What the hell is going on here?” Her father’s voice boomed into the night air, echoing across the whole garden. “Morton! Let go of my daughter! I will not have this! You are dallying with her!”
There seemed to be an outcry as Lord Morton pulled away, and she let him go.
“You are going to marry her, Morton! No other man will have her now!”
Lord Morton stood before her, looking down at her, appearing shocked and bemused and pale, but then all of sudden, his stupor dissolved, and there was a wildfire of anger in his gaze. She thought he might strangle her when his hand lifted. His eyes were so hard and cold. But it merely curled in a fist. Then he turned away and she saw the people who had followed her father, staring at her.
“I will wed her,” he growled.
She had given him no choice. He either shamed her entirely or took her.
She knew he was a gentleman; he would not shame her.
“But for now, I suggest you take her home.” Before I kill her, she heard the other words she imagined he did not speak.
She had done a dreadful thing. She knew she had. It had been cruel and manipulative. But guilt refused to stir inside her. If it was so dreadful, why was her heart bursting with joy? He was going to marry her! He was!
“I shall call upon you in the morning,” Lord Morton said to her father in a bitter voice, before walking away. People parted to let him go.
Her father caught a hold of her arm and growled through the side of his mouth. “I told you I had signed the contract with Perrigrew, girl, and now you must maneuver this. You have made me a laughing stock!” He knew she’d forced Lord Morton, then. Her gaze spun to their audience. They knew too; she could see it in their faces. She supposed Lord Morton’s anger must have made the situation obvious.
Meredith knew she was blushing bright red as her father’s fingers pressed hard into her arm, and then she was half dragged away.