Love Birds: The Complete Collection

by Ruth J. Hartman

  He’d never enjoyed being the center of attention and usually preferred solitude to crowds. Not that three others made a crowd, but it was more people than he normally spent time with. For the last several years, it had been just him and Percy for the most part. Normally Barrington avoided social settings, although he’d foregone his own comfort and had gone on outings with Martha because she’d insisted.

  Barrington reached for his tea and held it, glad for something with which to occupy his hands. “I have no siblings. I share my home with my uncle. Two bachelors rattling around in a rather large house.” He sipped his tea, hoping someone else would say something to fill the void so he wouldn’t have to.

  Lord Lofton nodded. “I understand completely. No other children graced the households of my wife and myself. It was always just my mother and me until I married Amelia.”

  Lady Lofton rolled her eyes.

  Hmm. Must be an interesting story there. But then, Barrington couldn’t imagine a stranger story than living with his crazy uncle. Surely no one would believe him if he described some of Percy’s bizarre antics and topics of discussion.

  He turned to the real object of his interest, his true reason for accepting Lady Lofton’s invitation to tea. “And you, Miss Fleming? Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

  She gasped and choked on her tea, her face darkening to deeper shades of red as the seconds ticked by. Lady Lofton leaned forward and thrust a handkerchief at her.

  What in heaven’s name had he said to cause such a reaction? Barrington opened his mouth then closed it. “Say, I didn’t mean to cause—”

  Miss Fleming waved a hand. “Y-you didn’t.”

  Lady Lofton leaned closer to her. “That was my fault. I should have warned you about the, uh, temperature… of the tea.”

  The tea hadn’t been too hot. Actually, Barrington found it to be slightly tepid. Perhaps Miss Fleming was more sensitive than he. She did appear small and delicate.

  Lord Lofton frowned. “Cecilia, are you well?”

  Cecilia. What a lovely name. Visions of dancing butterflies and floating clouds appeared as he allowed her name to roll across his mind. What a delightful person her mother must be to give her daughter such a wonderful name.

  She nodded. “Yes, quite.” She glanced at Barrington and then averted her gaze to her lap. “Pardon me.”

  “For what? You’ve done nothing wrong.”

  She swallowed hard and smiled. “Nothing except bring undue attention to myself.”

  “Any attention focused on you, Miss Fleming, would only be a pleasure for the observer.” He briefly closed his eyes. Please tell me I did not just utter that sentiment out loud in front of Lord and Lady Lofton. When he opened his eyes, Lord Lofton had one eyebrow raised and his wife wore a wide smile. Miss Fleming’s face, if it was possible, had reddened even more.

  She dabbed her mouth with the handkerchief. “Thank you, Mr. Radcliff.”

  I’m afraid to say anything else lest I make an even bigger fool of myself. A nod was all he could muster.

  Chapter Eight

  Cecilia stood in front of the kitchen window, watching a pair of brown sparrows flitter about a row of low bushes. Truth be told, though, her thoughts weren’t on the birds. They were on a very handsome, kind man with dark eyes and brown hair. Mr. Radcliff. He’d said he lived only with his uncle, so he wasn’t married. Was he betrothed? Or courting someone? It would be so lovely if he could be a possible suitor for her after her come-out. Would he—?

  “What on earth are you doing?” Her mother’s strident voice screeched from behind her.

  Cecilia closed her eyes briefly and let out a long breath before looking at her mother. “I’m not doing anything, Mama.”

  “That’s the trouble. You’re lazy.”

  “No, I’m—”

  “Why are you talking back to your mother?”

  “I’m sorry, Mama.”

  “As you should be. Ever since you found out you had a wealthy brother, you’ve gotten too good for the likes of us.”

  “That’s not true.” Cecilia cringed. She couldn’t seem to help herself when it came to defending Conrad. Can’t Mama just be happy for me that I’ve found a long-lost brother? Wasn’t it a normal reaction to be grateful and filled with joy at such an expected surprise?

  “You need to once and for all learn your place.”

  “I know my place. I’m still your daughter. Still live in this cottage and do your bidding, do I not?”

  “You’re changing. Those fancy new dresses and boots. The way you speak. Even the way you carry yourself, as if you are royalty.”

  Royalty? Cecilia let out a slow breath, willing herself to speak calmly. “Yes, I have new clothes, thanks to my generous brother, but what’s so wrong with improving my manners and demeanor?”

  “It’s all your generous brother’s fault.”

  “But Conrad—”

  Mama tapped her toe to the floor, the sound echoing along the floorboards. “I am so weary of hearing about Conrad. He’s nothing to me.”

  “But he’s the reason we live in this lovely cottage and have the services of a maid and—”

  “Don’t you realize what he’s doing, Cecilia? Now he has a hold over you and your father.”

  She lowered her eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

  “Lord Lofton thinks he can control you. You may think he means well for you, but surely he must have some other motive in mind.”

  “Why would he ever do anything like that? He’s been nothing but kind to us. To all of us. Have you forgotten that he didn’t come searching for us? That I’m the one who noticed the resemblance between him and Papa?”

  A hateful expression sparked from her mother’s eyes, which had narrowed, as if all of the world’s woes came from Cecilia. “Trust me. I haven’t forgotten that fact. It was a sad, sad day when he realized that your father was also his.”

  “I don’t feel that way at all. I think it’s a blessing.”

  “Of course you do! You think your life is going to change for the better. Well, it’s not.”

  “How can you say that, Mama? I’m getting new clothes, I’ll meet new people. Maybe even find a man who will love me.”

  Her mother pointed a fat finger in the direction of Cecilia’s nose. “Now there is your mistake. You already have a man who wants you. Wants you very badly, as a matter of fact.”

  “Are you speaking of that horrid Horace?”

  “Watch your tongue. He only wants to make you his wife. How can that be a bad thing?”

  “For one reason, I find him repulsive.” A shiver ran down her back. There was no way on earth, ever, that she could envision herself married to him.

  “That has nothing to do with why you shouldn’t marry him.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Shouldn’t a woman at least not find her husband nauseating?

  “Your father is…”

  Cecilia frowned. “Papa? What about him?”

  “Perhaps I also feel that he is repulsive.”

  Shock rolled through her. “Mama! How can you say that?”

  “Because it’s true. And he never wanted me. He only wanted that woman. The dowager living in the grand house just across the hedge.”

  “But Papa knew Conrad’s mother years before he’d even met you.”

  “That doesn’t matter. Don’t you understand? Your father never stopped thinking about her.”

  “No.” Cecilia slashed her hand through the air. “That’s ridiculous. He has you. And me.”

  “Then why does he sometimes call out the name Miriam in his dreams?”

  Cecilia gasped. “Mama.”

  “I know you don’t want to hear anything negative about your father, since you believe he can do no wrong.”

  “It’s not that.” She shrugged. “I just love him, so I think the best of him.”

  “But you don’t think the best of me, do you?”

  Cecilia swallowed hard as she realized her mistake. Her mother wou
ld know if she was lying. “I...”

  “I was right.”

  “But I do love you, Mama.”

  “Just not as much as you love him. And that new brother of yours.” Mama’s face showed distaste, as if having bitten into an unripe plum.

  “That’s not how… I never said…” Cecilia clenched her fist at her side. Why is this so difficult?

  “Cecilia, you say you love me.”

  “I do, Mama.” It’s difficult, but I do!

  “Then prove it.”

  A terrible sense of foreboding stole her over chest, like an icy hand trailing a cold finger down her front. “Pardon?”

  “If you truly love me as you say, you’ll not spend so much time at the Lofton Estate.”

  “But—”

  “And you’ll give Horace a chance.”

  “Mama, I don’t care for him. I will never care for him.” Cecilia stomped her foot, hoping that would add to her vehemence.

  Her mother jutted out her chin. “So you refuse?”

  “Papa already told Horace that I wouldn’t marry him. You were there. You heard him!”

  “That doesn’t mean you can’t pursue marriage with him on your own. Women do have certain ways of… attracting men, you know.” Mama batted her eyelashes and turned her head slightly to the side. If her aim was to look coquettish, she’d failed miserably.

  No, never! “Conrad has offered me something I never thought possible. A chance to meet the man of my dreams. Have new experiences. A better life.”

  “Better? Do you think I toil and scrape just so you can throw it back in my face?” Her mother waved her arms around as if she were shooing away bees.

  Mama didn’t toil or scrape in any way, for anything. She was lazy and always expected someone else to do all the work, but Cecilia knew better than to point that out. “Of course not. But I have—”

  “What? You have what? Dreams?”

  “Yes.” Why did admitting that have to come out sounding so small, so unsure like it was somehow wrong to desire something good?

  “Let me tell you something. Everyone has dreams. It’s a rare, rare thing in this life to see them come true. I should know.”

  Cecilia took a step toward her mother. “Why do you say that? Didn’t you want to marry Papa?”

  “I did. At first. But after we were married, I found out about Miriam.”

  “Papa couldn’t have helped that he met her first, Mama.” Without meaning to, Cecilia’s words sounded like a mother scolding a child.

  “But why couldn’t he have loved me—” Mama pressed her hand to her breast. “—the way he did her?”

  “I don’t know. For your sake, I wish he could have. But how hard do you try to love him?” Cecilia’s eyes widened. Oh no. She covered her mouth with her hand.

  Moving with surprising speed, Mama rushed toward Cecilia, arm raised, closing the distance of a few feet that separated them.

  The slap echoed through the room as pain shot through Cecilia’s face when her mother struck her. “Wh-why did you do that?”

  Hot tears poured down Cecilia’s cheeks. Her skin burned from her mother’s hand. She tried to blink the tears away but they kept sliding down her face in a seemingly never-ending stream. “Why, Mama? You’ve never struck me before.”

  “Because you need to learn your place in this world. It is not over there, with your so-called brother and his bossy wife. Or with the woman that your father longed for. No. It’s here. In this small cottage. With me.” She stepped back and pointed to the kitchen. “Now get in there and clean up those dishes.”

  “But Leah will expect to—”

  “Blast the maid. I don’t want anything to do with her if she came from that house.”

  “No, please…”

  “When that Leah Hunter comes today, you will inform her that she’s no longer required. I’m sure in that great big mansion over there, they can find something with which to occupy her.”

  “She’s my friend.”

  Her mother pointed her finger at Cecilia. “And that is one reason you need to crush those silly dreams of yours. You can’t go off thinking yourself all high and mighty simply because you have a rich brother and still be chummy with the maid.”

  Cecilia scrubbed at the tears drying on her cheeks. “Please don’t make me do this. Conrad was so kind to offer Leah to us. May I remind you that part of the reason was because of you? Because you were so ill?”

  “No, it was for your father and his hand.”

  “Well, of course, that was part of it, too.”

  “That hideous, mangled piece of meat that hangs uselessly from Andrew’s wrist.”

  With a gasp, Cecilia clutched a hand to her chest. “What a terrible thing to say! He can’t help it that he was nearly trampled to death by that horse. He very well could have died that day! He’s fortunate to have survived.”

  “Ever since the accident, I’ve had to put up with his moods.”

  His moods? “I cannot stand here and listen to you berate Papa. I won’t!” She headed toward the door.

  Her mother grabbed her wrist and spun Cecilia around to face her. Cecilia’s wrist throbbed as her mother dug her fingers in deep. “Listen here. I don’t care what you think. I don’t care how you feel. I am your mother and you will do as I say. So right now, you’re going to clean that kitchen. And later, when that maid comes, you’ll do as I said and tell her to leave.” She tightened her grip. Cecilia’s fingers tingled. “And when Horace visits, you will be nice to him. Do you understand?”

  Tugging away from her mother’s strong grip, she bit her lip and nodded.

  “And one more thing, Cecilia. You will stop visiting that house.”

  “But—”

  “I know your father will still take you to spend time with those worthless horses, but you will not go into the house. Am I clear?”

  Cecilia rubbed her cheek, still stinging from her mother’s slap, but the movement shot discomfort through her wrist, as well. “Yes, Mama.”

  Her mother stormed to her bedroom and slammed the door. No surprise there as it happened at least twice a day. Cecilia headed to the mess left in the kitchen after breakfast. As she stacked the dishes in the sink, she stared out the window. The upper stories of Conrad’s house peeked over the hedge separating it from the cottage.

  She wouldn’t defy Mama to her face, but Cecilia wasn’t giving up this chance that Conrad was giving her. I don’t want to give up on my dreams. But how do I keep it a secret from Mama?

  Chapter Nine

  Cecilia slipped out of the house an hour later while her mother took a nap. No one was about as she stepped from the dim interior of the cottage into the bright rays of the sun.

  Mama would be asleep for at least an hour, maybe two. And it was a twice-daily occurrence. Was it possible for Cecilia to visit Conrad’s house during those times? It was risky because she never knew when her mother would awaken.

  However, there was always the fact that Papa liked Cecilia to come out to the stables with him. Mama wouldn’t always have to know exactly where she had been. When asked, Cecilia could infer that she’d been outside with Papa. Guilt crept into her heart. Lying wasn’t right. Neither was skulking around like a thief in the night.

  But how else was she to do her brother’s bidding? She knew, of course, that if she truly did not want a season, he wouldn’t force her. Using him as her excuse to defy her mother was simply convenient. Because once Conrad had brought up sponsoring her, she could think of nothing else.

  Suddenly, it seemed that meeting new people, visiting new places, and having a dream of something beyond a dreary life in the small cottage with her overbearing mother were all that mattered. Excitement pushed from within her chest like a caged bird trying to free itself, longing to escape and explore an unknown world. Cecilia had gotten a small taste of new experiences when she had been a chaperone for Conrad and Amelia before they married. But even more important was the possibility that perhaps she might find love.<
br />
  She hurried to the opening in the hedge and passed through. Thankfully, no one near the stables was facing in her direction. With one hand lifting the fabric of her skirts, she all but ran to the house. Not in the least ladylike. But if no one saw her, would it matter?

  Her foot slipped in the mud but she caught herself before she completely lost her balance. Still trying to gain her footing, she hurried in the direction of the door. She glanced up and gasped as she nearly hurtled into Conrad.

  “Say, why in such a hurry?” He clutched her shoulders. She rested her hands on his chest to stop her momentum.

  “Oh, I…” She peeked over her shoulder as if her mother could see her from the confines of her bedroom.

  “Cecilia, is something amiss? You act as if you’re being chased.”

  She shook her head, but heat crawled up her neck and into her face.

  “Come now, little sister, you’re no better at hiding a fib than I am.” He put his arm around her shoulders and led her back inside. Cecilia made sure to wipe the mud from her boots on the mat just inside the doorway. Amelia wasn’t too fussy about it, but Conrad’s mother would throw a fit if the floors weren’t spotless.

  Amelia was standing by the window when they entered the library through a set of wide, French doors. She lowered her eyebrows over her beautiful green eyes. “Cecilia? Are you all right?”

  It seemed she wouldn’t escape telling them what Mama had said. They knew her too well and she was terrible at hiding things.

  Then what makes you think you’ll be able to hide the truth from Mama?

  “Here, let’s sit down, shall we?” Amelia headed to a grouping of chairs near the fireplace. They all took their seats, Amelia and Cecilia sitting on a settee and Conrad next to them in a high-backed chair.

  Cecilia’s brother and sister-in-law said not a word more, instead simply watched her expectantly.

  So be it. May as well get it over with. She sighed. “This morning I had an altercation with—”