Searching Hearts Box Set: Books 1-5

by St. Clair, Ellie

  “How very good to meet you at last, Lady Christina,” the Duchess said, kindly. “My goodness, it seems my husband is able to make a good decision after all! I should not have doubted you, my love,” she continued, glancing over at her husband before turning back to Christina. “You, young lady, are the picture of perfection.”

  Not quite sure whether to be embarrassed or complimented, Christina chose to remain silent, her eyes flicking from one person to the next as she her cheeks warmed.

  “Our son will be here to meet you in but a few moments. He is quite … eager,” the duke continued quietly. “Just in here, my dear. We thought to allow you a few minutes alone so that there is no awkwardness.”

  “It is always strange to be introduced to one’s betrothed in the company of others,” the Duchess replied, with a quiet laugh. “I remember it well.”

  Christina, feeling as though her limbs had turned to blocks of wood, thanked them all and stepped through the open door. She took a few steadying breaths and then chose to sit in a mahogany elbow chair facing the door, her back straight as she worked to maintain her composure. This was not what she had expected but perhaps it was for the best. To meet one’s future husband in front of her father and his parents would have, indeed, been somewhat awkward.

  She did not have time to think any longer, for another voice joined the others, snaking in through the open door toward her.

  Christina felt her breath catch, her mind scrambling to place the voice as she stood and took a step toward the door in order to hear better. She knew it already. How was that possible? Had she met the duke’s heir before?

  “In here, Ravenhall,” she heard the duke say. “Just a few minutes, mind you.”

  Christina lowered her head and curtsied the moment the door closed tightly, hardly daring to look up. When she did so, she saw standing before her a tall, broad-shouldered gentleman with a shock of chestnut hair and a slight curl to his lips, as though he were amused by the situation.

  The gentleman in the garden.

  “Lady Christina,” he said, bowing before coming toward her. “How good to meet you.”

  She could not say anything, half falling back into her seat as he came toward her. She saw the flicker of a frown on his brow, as he stared at her now in confusion as he drew near.

  “You,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around her middle in an attempt to keep herself calm. “It cannot be you.”

  He frowned, taking the seat opposite, leaning back and crossing one leg over the other. “What do you mean, Lady Christina? Have we met before?”

  For a moment, doubts assailed her. Perhaps she had been wrong to think that it was the same man. Perhaps, in the darkness of the gardens, she had made a mistake.

  But if his crystal blue eyes were not memorable enough, his hands were. Her gaze fell to the bloodied, bruised knuckles he’d sustained from punching the other gentleman full in the face — and her whole world collapsed. She closed her eyes for a moment, willing the truth away.

  “Lady Christina,” Lord Ravenhall said again, sounding a little frustrated. “Whatever is the matter? This is not what I expected from our first meeting. My father assured me that you were a well-bred woman who was more than interested in becoming a future duchess.”

  A burst of anger forced her eyes open, and she saw her glare surprised him. She knew she should be upset that she was now betrothed to a violent man. She should be shocked at his behavior. But that was not what caused her blood to boil now.

  “This is not our first meeting,” she said, her voice shaking with a mixture of anger and upset. “Have you already forgotten how you kissed me in the gardens only an hour ago? Is it that you have been with so many women that one more was nothing to you? Or is it that I am so forgettable you hardly noticed me at all?”

  She watched as his eyes widened, the irritation disappearing from his features almost at once. His skin paled, his blue eyes filling with shock.

  “I am sorry, Lord Ravenhall, but there will be no courtship, no betrothal, no marriage,” Christina continued, her arms slowly loosening about her waist as she drew in a few deep breaths. “I cannot, Lord Ravenhall, not after what I have seen. Not with you being the kind of man I know you to be.”

  He did not say anything for a long time, and Christina found she could not hold his stare any longer and turned her eyes away.

  “I am afraid you must.” His words were hard and sharp, piercing her very soul. “Your father will insist upon it.”

  She swallowed hard, knowing that he spoke the truth yet hoping desperately that, should she explain her reluctance to her father, he would allow her the opportunity to step back from the engagement.

  “I can make up my own mind, Lord Ravenhall,” she lied, turning back to face him as a strength she did not know she had begun to weave its way through her. “Our betrothal is not yet official, and I have no intention of making it so.” She shook her head, her heart bursting with a sudden, fierce determination to protect herself. “I will not marry a gentleman such as you.”

  A small groan escaped him, and Christina glanced over to find him running one hand through his hair, sitting back in his chair and looking up at the ceiling. She felt no sympathy for him, her mind firmly fixed in her decision. He had brought this upon himself.

  “Lady Christina, that was not the best first impression I could have made, I realize that,” he said in a firm voice, and she snorted a bit at the understatement. “But what you saw — that is not the kind of gentleman I am. I do not go around threatening other gentlemen, nor kissing ladies without their consent.”

  “And I am to just believe this?” Christina exclaimed as he looked back at her steadily. She gave a skeptical laugh. “Words mean only so much, Lord Ravenhall. Actions tell all.”

  He got to his feet and paced the length of the room and back, stopping in front of her. “You know nothing of my situation, of what caused the quarrel between me and Lord Northcliffe. Do not dare question my character, Lady Christina, when you know nothing at all about me.”

  “I know more than enough,” she said, standing, her anger with him replacing any former nerves. “I believe I am beginning to understand why your father was so willing to have you marry the first woman who agreed to have you.”

  He swiftly turned toward her, and she thought, just for a moment, she caught a look of despair in his eyes before he quickly masked it with a narrowed glare.

  “Watch your tone.”

  “We are not wed, my lord, and therefore, you have no cause to tell me how to behave,” she said, crossing over to him and poking a finger into his chest. “And even if we were wed, I would not listen to you anyway.”

  “And now I am beginning to see why the daughter of a marquess has been on the shelf for so long.”

  Christina gasped at his words. Although she knew she had said something nearly the same to him, it did not lessen the bite of his words, for she knew there was truth in his statement. Before she could think of what she was doing, she reached back a hand and swung her arm toward his cheek, but he caught her wrist before she could connect.

  “Now, now, Lady Christina, I thought you had an issue with violence?” He raised his eyebrows as he looked down at her

  As angry as she was, she nonetheless couldn’t miss the tremor that coursed through her body from where his hand held her wrist. He looked down at where they touched and he rubbed his thumb along the delicate bone of her wrist. Despite the fabric of her glove between their skin, she shivered and then cursed when she realized he had noticed as he looked up at her with a wicked grin.

  * * *

  Daniel had wanted to scare her. He needed his future bride to have no attachment to him, to want nothing more than an arrangement. He knew he had to marry in order to please his parents, keep his wealth, and continue his work, but he had no intention of marrying for anything more than continuing his name.

  Then this woman had quite literally stumbled into his life.

  She was right about o
ne thing — he hadn’t recognized her from the garden. He had been so hell-bent on taking his revenge on Lord Northcliffe he had hardly paid her any attention. He knew kissing a woman of the ton was a risk, but he had hoped the young woman hadn’t been able to recognize him in the darkness, and wouldn’t say anything in order to not bring any shame to herself.

  Daniel had to admit it had been intoxicating to kiss her, to lose himself in a woman, just for a moment, as it had been so very long since he had. He could tell she was inexperienced, yet her passion had flared enough to incite him. It had been so dark in the gardens, she had been lost in the shadows the entire time, though now that he looked at his apparent future bride-to-be, he recognized the silvery dress, the lush curves he had felt under his hands. She certainly swelled in all the right places, and he was surprised to find that he had to tamp down his growing desire to pull her to him and feel her softness against him once more.

  He gazed down at her now, realizing that the teasing of his lips was not simply contrived nor the remembrance of his training as a young lad. No, he was enjoying himself — and that scared him. His smile fell, and he let go of her wrist quickly, her eyes — a mysterious shade of gray — now clouded in confusion.

  “Look here, Lady Christina, what you witnessed, what I did … there are circumstances surrounding my actions that you do not understand. I have demons from my past, and they are centered around the man you saw me with. I will not apologize, for I have nothing to be sorry for. You do not know the truth, although if you require it in order to follow through with this marriage, I will tell you all.”

  He saw her hesitate as her eyes searched his face. He took the opportunity to study her as well. He reached out toward her, noting her flinch slightly, but instead of grasping her shoulders and drawing her to him, he simply picked up the small dark blonde braid that had fallen and looped it back around her upswept hair. Her eyes widened, but she didn’t move out of the way.

  “Lord Hudson told me not to go after him, but I did not listen,” he murmured, knowing she had no idea of what he spoke but continuing nonetheless. “I should have left him alone, but after what he did, I could not do anything but go.” He shook his head, stepping back from her now as he pressed one hand firmly against the wall and looked away from her and down at the floor.

  “Lord Ravenhall, I do not know what you are talking about, but it does not change my decision,” Lady Christina replied, firmly. “Your demons are your own and are not an excuse for treating me so.”

  He turned to her then. She seemed a practical sort. Perhaps he was going about this all wrong. “Will you not allow me a chance to explain?” he said, slowly. “To show you that I am not the man you think?”

  Christina frowned. “Why should you care what I think, Lord Ravenhall? If you do not marry me then I am certain there are plenty of other young ladies who will have you.”

  He could feel her eyes on him as he pushed himself away from the wall and returned to his chair. She was correct. Many women would be thrilled to marry a future duke, no matter how reclusive or horrible he was rumored to be. But he had no wish to court young women of the ton, and all would be made much easier for him if he continued with his parents’ wishes. Besides that, he felt that a woman such as this one would not expect the romance a young, untried debutante might — romance that he had no time for.

  “I have done you wrong, Lady Christina. I do not want my reputation to be sullied, not even in your eyes, for I cannot have any kind of shame brought to my family.” He tried to remain calm and open, hoping to make her believe him. He opted for the truth. “Besides which, both of our parents wish for this match and I would not like to disappoint them. If you would but give me a chance to explain, to court you perhaps, then I am certain you might reconsider.”

  He could tell she was about to say no, to refuse him, but then she tilted her head back and studied him. He tried his best to remain earnest, to encourage her to believe in what he was saying, and give him one more chance.

  “Very well, Lord Ravenhall,” she finally said, slowly and softly. “I will allow you to court me, but nothing official is to be said until I have made up my mind. Will your parents agree to a bit of a delay?”

  He felt relief wash over him, and some of the tension go out of his shoulders. Now it was a matter of not offending her too horribly.

  “Yes, I am certain they will be persuaded to do just that,” he said, getting to his feet and reaching for her hand. “Thank you, Lady Christina.”

  She gave him her gloved hand and he bowed over it. He wanted to bring it to his lips, to kiss her fingers, but he did not want to push things any further than they already were. He could see the confusion in her eyes, and he knew she was questioning her decision. Daniel would convince her that she was right in her choice. He had to.

  8

  “Well, Christina, I cannot say that I am pleased.”

  Drawing in a long, silent breath, Christina fixed her eyes on her father as he stood tall in their drawing room. She had known this moment was coming ever since she and Lord Ravenhall had exited the small room last evening with the news that they intended to court for a short time before making anything official. Lord Ravenhall had promised that a final decision would be reached within the week, which the Duke of Ware had reluctantly accepted. It seemed as though the duke had expected to make the announcement at the ball, but Lord Ravenhall had not backed down. At least that gave him some credibility in her eyes, although it was not enough to make her forget his actions in the gardens.

  As Lord Ravenhall had spoken, Christina had seen the look in her father’s eyes then — a look that told her he was not pleased with this decision. When he trained his gaze upon her, she knew he blamed her for the delay in the announcement. She had also known that this conversation would be had, but she was determined to remain firm, although not wanting to describe in detail what had occurred in the gardens with Lord Ravenhall. It was partly because she knew she shouldn’t have been alone with him, but for some reason, she also felt that she had to protect him, though why that would be so, she had no idea.

  “If you would let me explain, Father, I—”

  “I cannot understand what the matter is,” her father interrupted, blustering about, waving his hands theatrically. “Lord Ravenhall is a good and honest gentleman, who is one day to be a duke, and you are insisting that you must get to know him better before you agree to the betrothal?”

  He looked at her as though she had gone raving mad but Christina held her ground, even though it appeared he would not allow her to offer any type of explanation. Perhaps that was for the best.

  “Father, it was a mutual decision,” she said, calmly, sitting before him, her hands folded in her lap. “Did you yourself not tell me that Lord Ravenhall would have to agree before it all went through? This is better than him outright rejecting the match, is it not?”

  That took the wind out of his sails.

  “Yes, I suppose,” he muttered, taking his usual stance now, leaning on the mantelpiece. “But I’d presumed the duke had talked some sense into him. You do not have long to convince him that you will make a good wife. You are not the prettiest thing in the world, though you have a good head on your shoulders. Now that he’s back in London, you don't want another young lady to catch his attention.”

  Ignoring the familiar sting of pain, Christina inclined her head. “I understand there is some urgency, Father, but I believe I must also determine whether he would make me a good husband,” she said, refusing to bend. “It is only for a week and, should there be no agreement, then I am certain I can seek another gentleman’s court soon enough.”

  For a moment, the vision of a wonderful Season floated in front of her eyes, the Season she had always hoped to have. Perhaps, if she chose to bring her engagement with Lord Ravenhall to a close, then there would be the chance to have that Season, filled with opportunity.

  “If this Season does not end with you marrying the heir to the Duke of Ware, then
it will be your cousin who takes you as his wife,” her father grated, one hand thumping the top of the mantelpiece, startling her. “Do not think for one moment that I will allow you to make a stupid decision, Christina. To turn down a marquess, a future duke? I think not. It would be the height of embarrassment for our family!”

  Horrified at the thought of marrying the one man who repulsed her more than any other, Christina stared at her father in shock. She knew that her cousin — her father’s nephew — was a degenerate gambler, who had very little money and the tiniest home to call his own since he had thrown the majority of his wealth away. She also knew that her father had no time or respect for the man, and she was shocked that he would even suggest such a thing.

  “Father,” she said, hoarsely, blood draining from her face. “You are not serious. You cannot stand Cousin George — would you really force me to marry a man like that?”

  “I will do whatever I have to, to make sure you accept the Marquess of Ravenhall,” he grated, his eyes narrowing as he turned to face Christina. “But this is entirely within your power, Christina. If the Marquess does not accept you, then I will not force your cousin’s hand into your own. However, if I find out that it is you who has turned from Lord Ravenhall, then I assure you that your marriage to Cousin George will be secured within the month.” He stepped away from the mantelpiece, coming a little closer to her and, for the first time, Christina saw the anger burning in his eyes. “Do I make myself clear?”

  Christina was frozen in place, not sure what to say or even how to respond, surprised at just how furious her father was. He always blustered about, to be sure, but he had never shown true anger like this toward her. Did he know that it had been her insistence that had stopped the engagement from being announced last evening?