It had been the most exquisite evening possible. He had been certain it was the commencement of many more. Constance had been quiet on their return to her home, but he had not considered it unusual. He had been rendered rather speechless himself that night...
Now he regretted not spilling his heartfelt emotions, for she had rebuffed him at every turn since then. No more afternoon walks. Certainly no more nightly jaunts to their fairyland hideaway. He had attempted to woo her with daily bouquets of yellow roses but without success.
He was at his wit's end trying to determine the reason for her inexplicable change of heart and whatever role he had played in it. A grand gesture was required to get her attention long enough so he could plead his case.
Richard rolled up his sleeves. "I would be happy to assist you. To speed the process along."
The gardener, a man nearly as old as the Dowager, gave him a baleful look. "I am able to uproot the rose bush, sir—"
"Not just one. Several of them. Maybe a dozen."
"This is not the best time to dig these bushes up."
The man continued on with a description of soil, and roots, and all manner of botanical things that Richard could not absorb just then. He could only think of Constance, and giving her hope, and a reason to smile every day in the future. If he were lucky, this would have her looking upon him with favor. The thought made him impatient.
"I must do this. I must. It is more important than you can know."
The gardener did his best to hide his exhale of frustration, but Richard heard a distinct mumbling over the sounds of the trowel digging into the earth. After a few moments, the man said he needed a different implement, and ambled off, promising to return as soon as he found something suitable in the greenhouse.
Richard was not sure how to contain his frustration. He could drop to his knees and begin digging in the dirt with his bare hands...
Fortunately he saw Mrs. Seton heading towards him, and to his relief, Miles was nowhere to be seen.
"Mrs. Seton! I hope I might ask your assistance."
"Of course. What can I do to help?"
He hesitated. He was not used to asking for aid, especially not about women. Where did he start? From all accounts, she was a kind soul. He had gleaned that much from his cousin's rhapsodizing about her, even though he had tended to tune out the rest of Miles's accolades. Perhaps his cousin was off creating a sonnet to Mrs. Seton's virtues at this very moment. Richard would be sure to tease him about it once his own troubles were resolved.
"I have need of some information about the fairer sex."
"I cannot imagine you need any information on that topic." She laughed, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Yet I am now bursting with curiosity. It is about Miss Lockhart, is it not?"
He sputtered for a moment. "It is, though I will not attempt to discover how you know that."
"Women know a great deal more than they are given credit for. And as I have been tasked with playing matchmaker, it is only reasonable that I would be aware of this."
"Remind me to give you some scandalous details about Miles one day," he teased. "If you should ever need it."
Her laugh was a delightful one. "I appreciate the offer, but I doubt I shall need it. He is not a secretive man. Now, what is it you need to know about Miss Lockhart?"
It was not easy spilling his thoughts, but nor was it easy to have Constance lost to him, possibly forever.
"I have completely lost my heart to her, but it seems there is no convincing her. I have attempted to woo her in every way possible, and when that had no desirable effect, I switched course. Yet I am just as miserable leaving her alone, even knowing it is what she wants. I have never felt so helpless, or hopeless." He gave her a wry look. "And I will deny every word of this conversation should you ever choose to relay it to Miles."
"Do not worry about that. We are to be co-conspirators, are we not?" She grinned. "Surely we can devise a plan. Something that will make the both of you deliriously happy."
He inhaled deeply, nervous about failing at such an important venture. "I am putting all of my faith in you, Mrs. Seton."
"I am confident you will be rewarded for it." Her lips tilted up into another grin. No wonder Miles was completely besotted with this woman. Richard would be, too, if his heart had not been completely and irrevocably captured by Constance.
"Come along. I have an idea of what you should do..."
***
"Have you finally convinced yourself you have made the right choice?"
Constance tore her gaze away from the garden, looking at her father. "What? What do you mean?"
His eyebrows lifted slowly, leaving her no doubt of his skepticism. It was not easy to fool him. She grinned. She knew better than to try.
"I think that is my difficulty right now. I have convinced myself that remaining here, with you, is the only decision that makes sense. But for some reason I am unable to persuade myself to be happy about it."
His knowing chuckle warmed her as it always did. He had been such a comfort when her fiancé had died, letting her grieve as long as she needed, then finally helping her put her life back together. Serving as his assistant had helped tremendously. It should hopefully help this time, too...
"What would make you happy then? What would fill your heart with joy?"
Richard.
The answer was there without any effort on her part. He had led her along the path to happiness, even though she resisted at nearly every turn, until she had believed she was finally willing to leave the past behind.
But then her courage had deserted her. Richard had been the one to wear down her defenses, but after the magical evening they had shared, he would be the reason she would once more need to shore up those defenses.
"I do not wish to repeat what I endured before," she admitted. "And even though I know a certain future cannot be guaranteed, I also know what it is like to experience such pain. It is easier to attempt to avoid it."
"Of course it is." He nodded sagely. "But easier does not mean wiser. Would you advise a patient to leave their broken arm alone, since it will hurt to set it?"
"Of course not! It would not heal properly. The arm would end up useless, causing more problems than if they had dealt with it in the first instance, and yes, I am well aware of what you are trying to do here."
She joined in his laughter, and he leaned forward to clasp her hands in his. "You have always been strong-minded, Constance, my dear. It is a trait to be admired, that is for certain. I just do not want you to use it against yourself." He gave her hands a squeeze. "You have done that long enough."
Her breath caught in her throat. She had tried to convince herself that keeping Richard at arm's length was the most prudent way to proceed. It had taken every bit of strength of will she possessed, and she had prided herself on accomplishing such a difficult task. But now it seemed she had put all that effort into something guaranteed to cause boundless heartache well into the future.
Even worse, she might be doing the very same thing to Richard, and for no other reason than his attentions had made her feel vulnerable.
"Father, I cannot believe what a fool I have been. A heartless one at that."
"No, you have been neither. Your compassion knows no bounds, and it is not surprising it would make you guard your heart too."
Before she could reply, there was a pounding at the door, along with a frantic cry for the doctor. They both rose at the same time and hurried to see who was in such a state. When they opened the door, it was one of the Dowager's footmen standing there.
"It's Mrs. Seton, ma'am, sir," he explained with a brief nod. "She has fallen ill, and Lady Thornham needs you to see to her. Quickly, she said."
Her father turned. "I will fetch my bag."
"Uh, begging your pardon." The footman's ears turned a bright shade of crimson. "I was told to fetch Miss Lockhart. Because of it being—"
Constance bit back a smile. "Something which only afflicts females."
The footman's relief at not having to explain further was palpable. "I will go to her aid, Father. I am sure she would appreciate my presence rather than yours just now."
"Go then. But if it is something more serious, let me know and I shall be there in an instant."
She gave him a quick kiss and then fetched his bag. In the next moment, she was inside the Dowager's carriage, racing to take care of Mrs. Seton. The trip would not take long, since it was a well-sprung carriage, with excellent horseflesh, unlike her simple coach and aging horse.
And once she had ensured Mrs. Seton was on the road to recovery, Constance vowed to seek out Richard. She owed him an explanation, and if she were lucky, it might lead to a future she had been afraid to hope for until now.
Soon the coachman was bringing the carriage to a halt at the front of the house. The Dowager led a crowd of people toward the carriage, so reminiscent of her first visit, when she had met Richard and instantly dismissed him.
She nearly laughed at the memory. How things had changed. How she had changed in that time.
"Thank goodness you are here," the Dowager said. "I do not know what is causing everyone to fall to these afflictions. It cannot be the heat. At least, not for Gemma. She is as stalwart as they come."
Constance did not even attempt to get a word in. She merely followed the Dowager, intent on seeing her patient. She would have calming words for the Dowager once it was all sorted out.
The Dowager opened the door, ushering Constance in. "We shall stay out here, to give you both some privacy."
"Thank you. I am certain Mrs. Seton will appreciate it."
The Dowager nodded and then closed the door firmly behind her. Constance turned to find her patient, expecting her prone on the chaise.
To her surprise, Mrs. Seton was not reclining on the chaise. Richard was.
Or he had been. He stood as soon as she set eyes on him and began a slow approach towards her.
"I should apologize for the ruse. But I could not devise another way to speak with you." He halted a few paces away. "Though if you are angry, I hope you will not condemn Mrs. Seton for her role in this scheme. My plan was to dig up every single one of my aunt's rose bushes and haul them to your home."
That made her smile. "It is probably best that the roses stay here, as we both know what a pitiful gardener I am." She inched forward, gratified when his eyes lit up. "I am curious to hear how you planned to transport the Dowager's rose garden to my humble cottage."
"I had not planned that far before Mrs. Seton stopped me, though the gardener did his best to halt my progress."
"Yes, I can see where this would have been much easier."
"That is just it," he said. "I do not want easy, Constance. You deserve more than easy. And I am willing to demonstrate that to you, on a daily basis, until I finally convince you."
"And if you do not convince me?"
He looked away for several moments, his jaw working. "It would compound a mistake I never meant to make, one which will haunt me the rest of my days, knowing I was unable to persuade you of my heartfelt feelings." He turned back to face her and the dismay in his expression stole her breath. "I have spent my adult life pretending to be someone else, or something else, and now I desperately need you to believe in me. You are the only woman with whom I have shared the truly genuine part of myself."
And he believed she had tossed it aside without a second thought.
"Richard," she said softly. "I have tried to convince myself you were a scoundrel when you have been nothing but caring." He glanced at her, his expression turning hopeful. "I foolishly stayed away, counting on your persistence, but I discovered, nearly too late, it is not an inexhaustible supply."
"While I was attempting to honor your resistance, since I was certain I had stretched it beyond endurance."
"You have not. You cannot." She smiled. "For I am done resisting you."
Richard enveloped her in his embrace, raining kisses over her eyes and cheeks and finally her lips. Yet, as much as she enjoyed his ardor, she had to confess why she had unthinkingly caused him heartache.
Constance drew back, just enough to capture his gaze. "I told you before I was no innocent."
"Nor am I." His eyes twinkled with mischief. "Especially after that last wish you granted..."
She could not help but laugh. "You cannot stop me from explaining why I have treated you so horribly these past few days."
"There is no need, for I am thrilled that you are in my arms. Can I hope you have brought smelling salts with you? I may swoon from the joy coursing through me just now."
She placed her hand firmly across his mouth. She could feel a quick grin, but then he nodded, silently promising to let her speak.
"I was betrothed, several years ago, to a soldier..."
His eyes instantly filled with sympathy, and he tried to speak, but she kept her hand in place.
"I was planning to join him at a later date, to use my medical skills on the battlefield—not the typical camp follower activity." She smiled briefly. "I convinced him we did not need to wait for our wedding vows. That is how certain I was about our future. But it did not turn out that way."
He gently tugged at her hand until she lowered it. "No wonder you resisted me. I remind you of him."
"No! You reminded me of me. When I was the carefree young woman who believed she could wish her desired future into existence. After I locked all of that away, convinced it was pure foolishness, I was not willing to let it loose again." She smiled up at him once more. "Somehow you thwarted me at every turn."
Richard pressed a kiss deep in her palm. "I am glad I did so. I truly had no choice, because I have completely lost my heart to you. I could not possibly contemplate a future without you."
"I had tried to contemplate it, and it was utterly miserable." She kissed him. "My heart will always be yours."
Richard spun her around in his arms, making them both laugh. When he stopped and ensured she was steady on her feet, he said, "I cannot wait to tell my aunt our good news."
"She will have to halt her matchmaking efforts where you are concerned." Constance pretended to frown. "Those poor debutantes vying for your attention. There are bound to be several who succumb to a case of the vapors."
His lips twitched. "How fortunate that you are able to see to their care. And the Dowager's, for she will be more shocked than anyone. I doubt she ever thought I would fall so completely."
"It will please her to no end. She is exceedingly fond of you, much as she pretends otherwise. Oh, she also knows about the grape juice, but she will never admit it, since she enjoys twitting you about that, too."
"I always suspected." Richard took her hand in his and headed for the doorway. "Probably best I let her continue her tormenting, to make up for all the things we have plagued her with over the years."
"Wait." When he stopped, Constance moved until her body was pressed against his. "One more kiss, until we can retire to our fairy wonderland later this evening..."
"Such a wicked woman. I knew it the very instant you gave me that first dismissive look." He gave a demonstration of how she had given him a once-over, albeit with an extra flare.
"I did no such thing! It was more like this." Her eyes took their time looking him over, head to toe and back again.
"Oh, you are truly wicked." He wrapped her in his embrace once more. "You know how your disdain arouses me. I have been at a fever pitch since that very first moment. I should have cried surrender then."
"And I should have never dismissed you as a useless frippery."
"I am actually grateful you did, for it merely strengthened my determination."
"Do not tell me I was some sort of campaign, or I shall lace your next cup of tea with a horrible emetic."
He laughed, the most delightful sound in the world. "I would never discount your intelligence, or your ability to wreak a horrible revenge on me—the man who has your heart."
"You are absolutely correct about that." S
he rested her head on his shoulder, heaving a sigh of contentment. "Yet what are we to do about our future? You must return to your posting soon."
"It is still some time before I must leave. And perhaps I shall not go alone." Richard nuzzled her hair, but his last words made her head snap up, nearly catching him on the chin. "If you are amenable, of course."
"How would that be possible? I know nothing of what you do, or how you do it."
"You must not sell your skills so cheaply. I am in awe of how quickly you can assess a person, or situation, and remain calm and unaffected throughout."
She snorted. "Just because you did not fool me does not mean I am able to do that with everyone else."
"Perhaps. But we have plenty of time to discuss it. For now, I have other ideas of how to spend our time."
"Does it involve fairy sprites?"
"They tend to abhor sunlight," he said.
"I have yet to see evidence of them at night, no matter how many times we have sought them out."
"They may have just been biding their time." He laced his fingers with hers, and then raised her hand to his lips. "Did you hope to ask them to grant a wish for you?"
"They already have." She kissed him, her heart filled to overflowing. "Many times over."
William
Chapter 16
"Mrs. Beaumont. What a delight. Have you come to join me in a game of billiards at last?"
Honora caught her breath, knowing she should dismiss the notion, but the truth was she had hoped Mr. Travers would be here again. There was something so compelling about this man. She had carried him in her thoughts since their brief meeting two years ago. She was not about to deprive herself of his company now, not when she had an entire hour to herself.
"I have come to search for a missing shawl," she answered. "The Dowager insisted it was an absolute requirement before everyone goes down to dinner later, after her daily restorative nap."
And what better place to seek out the missing accessory than the one place she hoped William might be?
"I do not know that my aunt has ever entered this room. But I will be happy to assist your search."
Where Have All the Scoundrels Gone? Page 12