Then a solution occurred to her, once again proving no the most useful word in any language.
“Mary,” Mia said with such intensity that Miss Horner stopped her work and gave Mia her full attention. “Did you know that Mrs. Cantwell asked if you could come to Sandleton and help with the sick and Mr. Novins said no?”
“He did?”
“Well, I believe his exact words were ‘absolutely not.’”
“But I would have helped.”
“Of course, and he knew that if you did your mother and your family would have been neglected, or put at risk if we were ill with a contagion. So he said no for you.”
“I’m not sure if I like that or not.”
“Perhaps what you two are meant to do is say no for each other. How often is Mr. Novins called away when you think it unnecessary?”
“All the time. The Irvings call for him at least once a week for such silly things as splinters.”
“If you were married, you could say no for him when you thought it an imposition and not a medical necessity.”
“I don’t think I could do that.”
“But you could say no when it came to other things that were neither medical nor emergencies, could you not?”
“Yes, yes, I could do that.”
“Then marry him and practice saying no for each other for the rest of your lives, and you will be very happy together.”
By the time Mia walked back to Sandleton she was very pleased with herself. Mr. Novins was a fool if he did not marry this woman as fast as he could. She was a gem.
Was it true, as Miss Horner insisted, that love made all things possible? Not easy, but possible.
Maybe if David loved her enough, just maybe, marriage was a possibility. But could she love him enough to take second place to his cotton mill, his family, even his boxing? If at night, in bed, was the only time he loved her, would that be all she would need? If he never could say the words I love you?
No.
She knew from her father, her friends, and her own failed engagement that love from the heart and the mind was essential to a happy union. Even then it could be a challenge, and certainly would be for David Pennistan and Mia Castellano.
For she was just as guilty as David at hiding from the words that would set them on a path to a lifetime together. Did she love David Pennistan?
Well, it was not a decision she would have to make today. Or ever.
Unless she was with child.
Chapter Twenty-nine
AS MIA MADE the last turn on the curved drive back to the house, she saw the Meryon coach and four standing at the front door. Exactly what time was it? And more to the point, who was going to act as coachman for this part of the trip?
Hurrying up the front steps, she went into the house, dropping her pelisse and bonnet on the table nearest the door. The hall was empty, but the pile of baggage confirmed that packing was well under way.
Mia looked into the study and found it empty as well. There was no sign of Lord David or his papers. Had he dared to leave early, as he’d suggested he might?
Angry at the very thought, she hurried up the stairs, into the family wing, and into his room with the barest of knocks. It was empty. Who had packed all his things so quickly?
With a harsh breath, and half afraid that he had, indeed, left without her, Mia picked up a book and threw it at the wall. The clunk it made was not particularly satisfying; for the first time Mia understood why men liked boxing so much.
She hurried back into the hall and into her room to see if Janina knew of his whereabouts.
“Be sure to carry that right side up as the hats are fragile.”
The command in her voice reminded Mia that Janina was best avoided on travel days. She had very particular thoughts on how everything should be packed and could be quite the dictator.
Mia ran back downstairs, her feelings of panic increasing out of all proportion. He would not, could not go to Pennford without her. He would not dare talk to Elena or the duke about her before she arrived.
Outside, she broke into a run toward the stables to see if his horse was gone. Before she reached the building, Franklin came round from the side of the house.
“Whoa! Miss Castellano.” He grabbed her arm. “Stop a moment. You are just the morsel I hoped to find today.”
“Good morning, sir.” She gave him a quick curtsy and would have moved on if she could have pulled her arm from his grip.
“Slow down, my girl. I would have a word with you.”
“No! I have to go to the stables. I’m in a hurry.”
“No one there that can give you what I can.”
Mia stopped struggling. If David had left already, racing to find out would not bring him back. “What do you want, Franklin?” Her tone of voice was hardly gracious, but Franklin did not seem to mind.
“You were much the topic of conversation this morning, with all of us trying to define what your idea of being an ‘independent woman’ means.”
“Lord Kyle was talking about me? With everyone?”
“To me, Candy, and Ettie. How flattering that you consider that everyone. Last night you seemed most interested in Lord Kyle, and he thought Ettie might have a word with you.”
Last night’s dinner seemed a hundred years ago.
“My thought was, Mia,” he used her given name quite casually and stepped even closer, “that if you wanted a little practice in dealing with gentlemen, I would be very happy to tutor you.” With that, he moved beside her, put his arm around her so that she could feel him touching the side of her breast, and urged her onto the lawn. “I found a little love nest on this side of the house. It is the perfect spot for us to become better acquainted.”
That was the last thing she wanted. His touch disgusted her, made her feel physically ill. Of course that could have come from running too fast while wearing stays, but she didn’t think so. She wanted to scratch his eyes out for no other reason than the way he was holding her.
“No!” She jerked her arm but he did not loosen his grip. “Franklin, I am not interested in becoming better acquainted with you.”
He laughed and offered her the flask he had just drunk from. “Here, this brandy will help.”
“No. Unhand me now!” She was contemplating whether to kick him in the knee or higher if he did not release her.
“Here is your first lesson: This is the point at which you should end your protests, feel faint, and allow me to lead you to someplace more private.”
“No. I will show you how faint I feel.” And with one of those deft movements that she had learned as a child when eluding a spanking, Mia escaped his hold and ran directly into Lord David.
Oh, how wonderful. He had not left.
She grabbed David’s lapels and held on.
“NICELY DONE, MIA,” he said, letting his lips rest on the top of her head.
“You were watching?” She leaned back to look at him.
“Yes.” David should not have been surprised by the flash of steel in her eyes. He was almost sure it was leftover rage with Franklin’s behavior and not with him.
“Yes,” he said again. “I was about to pummel him when you escaped.”
“I thought you had left,” she said, hands on hips, and now he knew her displeasure was aimed at him.
“And leave you with these randy fools? Never.”
“I say, Lord David.”
Franklin’s blustering attempt to draw his attention reminded David of one bit of unfinished business. “Would you like me to teach him a lesson?”
“Yes, my lord, I would.”
He turned around, strode over to Franklin, steadied him by grabbing the lapel of his coat, then punched him square in the face. It felt so good he was sorely tempted to do it again.
Blood gushed from Franklin’s nose. He staggered backward and screamed like a girl. “You broke it!”
“Maybe, maybe not.” David did not care one way or the other. “But if you do not leave Miss Ca
stellano alone now and forever, I promise you I will break your jaw, your arm, and your leg.”
“You didn’t have to do that.” Franklin’s tone was man-to-man now. “Just tell me you had a claim.”
Franklin had ruined one handkerchief. David watched as he pulled his shirt from his pantaloons and used the ends to try to staunch the blood and save his coat from ruin.
“Claim?” Mia said, her voice a sure clue to her outrage. “You think a woman is something you can claim?” She would have kicked Franklin if David had not taken her hand and pulled her away.
“Mia, listen to me,” David said as he urged her toward the carriage.
She stopped and faced him.
“This is what you will face all the time if you insist on establishing yourself without a chaperone.”
She said nothing but began to turn away. “Don’t you see that eventually you will lose yourself in the demimonde? You have to listen to me.”
“No, I do not.”
Her tone provoked him beyond civility.
“I do insist.” He let go of her shoulders. The urge to shake her was too real. He raised his hand, gesturing toward Franklin, who was almost at the front door. “Is that the sort of life you want? Consorting with men who make your skin crawl?”
“My salon will not be like that,” she said with an insistence that made him want to shout. He did his best not to.
“Mia, once you make this choice, once you leave Meryon’s protection, society will reject you. You think what you feel now is hurtful. It is nothing compared to what could happen. There will be no turning back.”
“I will be discreet. My salon—”
“Damn times five freaks. Your salon is a fairy tale,” David said, cutting her off. “It’s what every courtesan wishes their world was. In truth, someone pays and then they fuck you. There is nothing elegant or discreet or charming about it.”
David could feel anger explode out of her. Mia pulled out of his grasp, and when she raised her hand to slap him he allowed it.
“You disgust me as much as Franklin does!”
David watched as Mia ran toward the house. She might be disgusted with him, but not half as disgusted as he was with himself.
He turned toward the stables. Leaving in a timely way was the least of his problems.
David hoped his blunt words had shocked some sense into her, shown her the reality of her absurd dream. She was stung, and angry, either because of Franklin’s abuse or his own words, or both. In any case, he did know that he had ruined any hope of her accepting his proposal.
So he’d best come up with another plan.
Chapter Thirty
IT WAS SOME TIME after noon before they departed, and not only because Mia had taken as long as she possibly could to make her farewells to the Cantwells and the rest of the servants. Their departure was slowed even further by the last-minute arrival of a breathless Mr. Novins, who was anxious for a personal good-bye.
Mia gave the last of her traveling items to Janina. “I promise I will not be long,” she assured her and went to greet Mr. Novins.
He bowed to her. She curtsied.
“I want to thank you for visiting Miss Horner. I saw her today and she asked if I would extend her farewells with my own.”
“You spent some time with her?” No suit could have prospered in the few hours since she and Mary Horner had met.
“We talked,” he said.
She waited, hoping that silence would prompt details.
“I know it will sound odd, miss, but she actually said no to me when I asked her to do me a favor. She said no, and when I showed my surprise and perhaps a little disappointment, Miss Horner laughed and said that I should thank you.
“I left in some confusion but as I thought about it, I do believe the word no from Miss Horner is one of the wonders of the world.”
“I hope so, for both your sakes, sir.” He nodded, and if he thought that an odd wish he gave no sign of it. “Mr. Novins, I want to thank you for the care you gave us, and I promise you that the duke and duchess shall hear of it and send their own thanks.”
“I appreciate that, Miss Castellano. I hope that the angling will bring you back to Sandleton.”
Mia said all the right things one more time, while she marveled at the fact that a suit could prosper in so little time. She would write to Miss Horner and encourage her to respond. Until news of an engagement came to her, Mia would not consider her conversation with Mary Horner a complete success.
Mr. Novins escorted her back to the coach where he waved farewell to the others, including Lord David, whose horse was pawing the ground, as ready as his master to be off.
Romero, of all people, was acting as coachman. “He is a man of many skills,” Janina bragged as they set out.
Alan Wilson rode alongside Romero in the coachman’s box and the two grooms rode in the rear behind the trunks lashed on top.
Even though they were leaving late, Lord David announced that they would stop every five miles or so.
“Why are we to stop so often?” Mia called to him, but Lord David had already urged Cruces into a canter. He was out of sight before they had left the edge of town. Mia watched him until she could not see him anymore as she untied her bonnet and tossed it on the seat. It was too small and made her temples ache.
“Where is Lord David going?” Janina asked as they passed through the cloud of dust that Cruces had stirred up.
“I do not care.”
“What happened?” Janina asked, her eyes narrowed.
“He is awful and crude.”
Janina raised a hand to her mouth. “Is this about last night? Oh, my God, did he force you to have sex with him?”
“What? Force me? No, never.” Then Mia realized what Janina’s comment meant. “You know we were together?”
Nina gave a tiny nod that was as much apology as confirmation.
“How did you find out?”
“Mia, your dress was ruined. When I saw it this morning, I thought it was because of a passion that could not be denied, but now I see I could have been gravely mistaken.”
“No.” Mia sighed. “You were right the first time. It was the most wonderful evening of my life.”
Janina nodded encouragement.
“It is much too private to discuss, but please believe me when I say that the seduction was totally mutual.”
“So now you are going to marry him.” Janina clapped her hands.
“No. Never.” Mia closed her eyes and waited until she could talk without shouting. “He does not love me. He would be forever saying ‘Listen to me,’ and telling me things I do not want to hear.” She swallowed her heartache. “If love makes all things possible, trying to live without love in a marriage would be horrible.”
“But he must like something about you to propose.”
“He has not proposed, Nina. He only asked what I would do if I found I was with child.”
“Oh, dear, that is not even a little romantical.”
“Not even a little.” Mia pulled off her gloves and dug through her bag for her own handkerchief. “And there is something even worse.”
“What could be worse?”
“He told me that my idea to live independently was a fairy tale. That if I live without a chaperone in no time I would become part of the demimonde.”
Mia slipped to the floor, put her head in Nina’s lap, and began to cry. Nina smoothed her hair and then made matters worse. “I have always thought the same thing.”
“What!” Mia stopped crying, bolted upright, and pushed herself onto the seat next to her sister.
“I have never understood why you could not invite some poor but wellborn woman to live with you, to convince everyone that you are and always will be a lady. You could even live at Penn House in London. It is more like a palace than a home, and you could have your own apartments and never even have to see the duke when he comes for Parliament.”
“Nina, have you forgotten my ruined engagement? I
have no idea how Elena will react to that. She may send me to my room for a month. She may refuse to speak to me. William is her dearest relative. And I hurt him badly.”
“But think how much this choice of living alone will hurt Elena.”
Would it? Mia wondered. She would not know until she reached Pennford and discovered how Elena felt.
“I will think about my plans, Nina. Not because of what David said but because you’ve asked me to.”
Janina took her hands and kissed her cheek. And all was right in their world. Mia settled back and closed her eyes.
“Mia?” Janina asked in a timid voice. “Has it been five miles yet? Do you think we will be stopping soon?”
Oh, so that was why David had insisted on the frequent stops. His kindness was as guarded as everything else about him.
Those first five miles were the last that Janina could handle inside the coach. With her hands pressed to her stomach and her face too pale, it was decided Janina would squeeze into the coachman’s box with Romero and Alan Wilson so they could move a little faster than a snail.
Mia tucked herself into the corner of the carriage so she could see out both windows, one over her shoulder and the other across from her. The sun was moving west and the air was still dry. There was enough shade that the inside of the coach did not feel like an oven. If she could doze off she could escape her worries. It would be a relief.
Instead she would pray. That she would be allowed for once in her life to make her own choice.
That Nina and Romero would find the happiness each deserved. That Mary Horner and Mr. Novins each grasped the value of the word no, except in bed. That Elena would understand that Mia’s ending her engagement to William was the right thing for both of them, and even that William would find someone worthy of all he had to give.
That David Pennistan would discover such a powerful love—She stopped that prayer before it fully formed. To pray for love was too much like asking for a miracle, and how dreadful to ask for one and then discover it was not the answer to all her problems. So the last thing she prayed for was that she was not with child. It was a prayer for both her and David and, she hoped, not too much to ask.
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