More Than Willing

by Laura Landon

  Perhaps this time she wouldn’t ache to have him hold her or kiss her or…

  Maggie walked to the library and closed the door behind her. She leaned her back against the oak wood and shut her eyes. She’d never been so confused in her life. Never felt so torn. She knew how important it was to win this battle her heart seemed so eager to lose. She knew how close she was to giving up everything that had always been important to her.

  She pushed herself away from the door and walked to the window. The snow came down heavier than before and she looked at the entrance to the brewery, hoping to see horse tracks. But the snow lay smooth and undisturbed. Maggie thought of him riding the two hours it would take him to return from the King’s Crown and shivered.

  “Aren’t you feeling well?” Aunt Hester asked from the doorway.

  Maggie spun around. “No, I’m fine. I just couldn’t sleep. I’m sorry I woke you.”

  “You didn’t wake me. I was writing Jonathan and Mary to inform them of the progress we’ve made for Felicity and Charlotte’s come-out.”

  “Are you sure your son and daughter-in-law won’t mind introducing Felicity and Lottie into Society?”

  “Of course not. You three are the only family Jonathan has. And Mary’s as excited to escort the three of you around Society as I am. She said she’s missed the excitement of planning a Season now that her daughters are all grown and married.”

  Aunt Hester sat down in the chair closest to the fireplace and pulled a wrap over her legs. “She’s already put out the word that Felicity and Charlotte will be arriving in London for the start of the Season and said invitations are pouring in that include them.”

  Maggie looked out the window at the undisturbed snow at the entrance to the brewery yard. She turned back to Aunt Hester. “You know there’s a good possibility that I won’t be able to leave as soon as you and the girls must.”

  “Yes, but I’m sure it will only be a matter of a few weeks until you can join us.”

  “Hopefully. Have you given Jonathan a definite date when you plan to arrive?”

  Aunt Hester shook her head. “I wrote to say that we would spend Christmas here then leave sometime toward the end of January.”

  “I wish the brewing season were over. So much depends on our success.”

  “I know, dear.”

  Maggie rubbed her fingers against her temples. “Do you think we will weather this?”

  “Of course we will. Our luck has held out this long. I don’t see why it won’t a little longer.”

  Maggie’s heart raced in her chest and she stared at her aunt. “I’m so frightened. Someone could find out about Papa, and Felicity and Charlotte wouldn’t have a Season at all. If that happened, we’d not only lose this house, but we’d be at the mercy of Cousin Lyman. You know as well as I that he’ll do everything in his power to get his hands on my brewery.”

  “Don’t borrow trouble,” Aunt Hester said leaning back in her chair. “If that were going to happen, it would have happened a long time ago.”

  Maggie walked back to the window and pulled aside the drape. “I hope you’re right. But—”

  “No one will discover anything unless we make a mistake. And we’re both too careful to let that happen.”

  “You’re right.”

  “Now, why don’t you tell me what the Earl of Camden’s son is doing working in your brewery?”

  Maggie spun around to face an inquisitive expression on her aunt’s face. “How did you know the earl’s son was here?”

  “I had to have Mr. Tibbles make out a draft to pay Mrs. Crawford for the work she’s done so far. The poor thing has been having a time of it since her husband was thrown from his horse last fall. When Mr. Tibbles delivered the payment this afternoon, he asked to speak privately with me.”

  “What about?”

  “It seems he’s quite concerned that you and Mr. Delaney are spending a great deal of time together.”

  “We are not—”

  “And,” Aunt Hester interrupted with a lift of her hand, “that you have given him a great deal of authority which Mr. Tibbles sees as a grave mistake.”

  Maggie swallowed. “Does Tibbles realize that Grayson Delaney is the Earl of Camden’s son?”

  “I’m sure he doesn’t. He referred to Delaney as a common laborer more than once.” Aunt Hester rose from the chair and walked to Maggie. “Is there a reason Grayson wants to keep his identity a secret?”

  Maggie nodded. “He said he recently acquired a brewery and knows nothing about running one. He’s determined to learn everything he can about the brewing process here but he’s afraid if the workers find out he’s an earl’s son they won’t be as eager to work alongside him.”

  “He has a point there.” Aunt Hester nodded in understanding. “Did Delaney happen to say which brewery came into his possession?”

  “I asked, but he wouldn’t say.”

  A smile lifted the corners of her aunt’s mouth. “Well, it doesn’t matter. I’m just pleased to hear he’s finally settling down. You know, his escapades have been the talk of London for years.”

  “I know.” Maggie stared into the darkness. “That’s what makes me wish I didn’t have to work so closely with him.”

  “What, exactly, does that mean?”

  Maggie started when she realized what she’d just revealed, then decided it wouldn’t hurt to include her aunt in what she and Grayson Delaney were trying to do. “Mr. Delaney discovered that Geordie Briars is interested in selling the King’s Crown.”

  “The King’s Crown? Your mother tried to acquire that place for years with no success.”

  “I know, but Mr. Delaney is positive that this time Mr. Briars is serious about selling.”

  “And Grayson volunteered to negotiate this acquisition?”

  Maggie nodded. “He’s there right now. That’s why I couldn’t sleep. I was watching for him to return.”

  “I see. Has he returned?”

  “No. But it shouldn’t be much longer.”

  Maggie’s aunt was silent for several long minutes. “Did you ask him to negotiate for the King’s Crown?”

  “I intended to negotiate myself, but Mr. Delaney said he thought Briars would talk more freely with a man than a woman.”

  “Do you agree?”

  “You know I do. Mother found that out in nearly everything that happened here. No one takes a woman seriously, especially in business matters.”

  Maggie watched a smile brighten her aunt’s features. “What do you find so humorous?”

  “Not humorous, Margaret. But remarkable. I think I am watching a miracle unfold before my eyes.”

  “What miracle?”

  “Mr. Tibbles was here this afternoon and spent a great deal of time pointing out Mr. Delaney’s shortcomings.”

  Maggie arched her brows. “What exactly does he see as Mr. Delaney’s shortcomings?”

  “He’s concerned Mr. Delaney’s intentions aren’t honorable. He thinks there’s the possibility that he’ll try to get the brewery through marriage.”

  “Is that what you think he intends?” Maggie asked.

  “I hadn’t given the possibility much thought.”

  Maggie couldn’t hold her aunt’s gaze and lifted the drape to look out the window. “If you had, you’d know you have nothing to fear. I would never make the same mistake my mother made.”

  “Why? Because you think your mother made a grave error in marrying your father?”

  “Of course she did.”

  “Even though they loved each other and had many years of happiness together?”

  “No amount of happiness was worth the sorrow they caused each other.”

  A sad smile formed on her aunt’s lips. “Then you are in more danger than your mother ever was. Your father was my brother and I cared deeply for him. But I wasn’t blind to his faults. Neither was your mother. Her mistake was that she loved him so deeply she thought she could make up for all his shortcomings instead of helping him to o
vercome them. You, my dear, are in danger of not being brave enough to look past any man’s faults to see the strengths beneath.”

  “Perhaps that’s because I saw what Father’s weaknesses did,” Maggie said defensively. “It ruined both their lives and I don’t intend to let that happen to me.”

  Her aunt reached out and gently patted her arm. “Don’t focus on the comparisons between your father and Grayson Delaney. It’s possible you might miss some very important differences.”

  Her aunt’s words surprised her. Maggie didn’t want to put thought into what her aunt was saying and turned back to look out the window. “He’s here,” she whispered as Gray’s horse loped slowly up the street.

  Her Aunt Hester rose and stepped close to share a spot at the window and together they watched the horse head toward the house instead of the stable.

  “Is he coming here?” Aunt Hester asked.

  Gray’s limp body swayed from side to side, then tipped forward. He was drunk. “From the look of him I doubt he knows where he’s going.”

  “Should we send someone out to help him?”

  Maggie’s heart dropped to the pit of her stomach. She remembered watching her father come home night after night in the same condition and each time her mother had sent someone out to help him inside and up the stairs. That was one ritual she wouldn’t repeat.

  “No. Mr. Delaney managed to make it home in that condition. He can find his own bed by himself too.”

  “But—”

  “No! I’ll not take care of another drunk.”

  She couldn’t keep the anger out of her voice. Nor could she keep her temper from soaring. How dare he do this to her. How dare he walk into her life as if he belonged there. He’d kissed her and woken up the emotions she’d buried so long ago. He made her care for him when he was exactly like her father. How dare he!

  She spun away from the window and headed for the door. He could freeze out there for all she cared. She was going to bed where it was cozy and warm. She’d nearly reached the door when Aunt Hester’s cry stopped her cold.

  “Margaret!” she cried again.

  She raced back to the window and looked out to where Grayson Delaney’s body lay half-buried in the snow.

  “Damn him!” she ground out between her clenched teeth. “Damn him, damn him, damn him!”

  She stormed from the room and yanked her cloak from the hall closet.

  “Do you need help, Margaret?” her aunt asked as she threw her wrap around her shoulders and jerked open the front door.

  “Just don’t let me kill him,” she replied as she stomped out the door. “He’s not worth hanging for.”

  Maggie raced down the steps as fast as the skiff of new snow would allow her to go and stood above his prone body with her fists on her hips and an angry glare in her eyes. She wasn’t dressed warm enough to keep the gusts of cold air from reaching her skin and the snow had ruined her slippers. Damn him!

  “I see you enjoyed your evening, Mr. Delaney.”

  He’d landed on his back in the snow and his eyes were closed, but at the sound of her voice he stirred.

  “Maggie—”

  “I should leave you out here to freeze,” she said glaring at him, “and I would except that part of the reason you’re in this shape is because you were on a mission for Bradford Brewery.”

  His eyes opened to narrow slits and he tried to talk but all he managed was a low moan.

  “I can see there’s no need asking what progress you made with Geordie Briars.” She wrapped her arms around her middle to hold her cloak tighter. “It’s doubtful you could carry on an intelligent conversation.”

  “Maggie…help.”

  “Oh, I’ll help you. This time. But never again. And I won’t allow you into the house.”

  She bent down to pull him to his feet. “Why did you come here? You should have gone to your own place. If anyone sees you like this they’ll—”

  “Maggie…”

  Maggie wrapped her fingers around one of his arms and pulled, but she stopped when he moaned again.

  Something was different in the sound he made. The low groan didn’t sound like the slurring of a drunk trying to talk. She lifted her gaze to his face and the first wave of fear clutched at her chest.

  “Gray?” Maggie pushed back the dark hair that had fallen over his forehead. His skin was cold and damp.

  “Gray?”

  “Help…me…”

  “What’s wrong?”

  Gray wasn’t drunk. He was in pain.

  Maggie glanced at his body but couldn’t see anything wrong. When she reached to unfasten his jacket buttons, he clamped his hand over her fingers and stopped her.

  “Not…here. Help me…inside.”

  “Aunt Hester,” she shouted, looking up to where her aunt stood in the open doorway. “Wake one of the footmen to help me get Mr. Delaney into the house, then send someone for a doctor.”

  Aunt Hester darted back inside and Maggie turned back to Gray. “Can you sit?”

  He nodded and Maggie slid her arm beneath his shoulder and helped him up.

  “Let me sit for a moment… before I try to stand.”

  “What happened?” Maggie asked, hovering over him to shield him as much as possible from the cold and wind.

  “Either someone doesn’t want me…here, or…

  Maggie felt his weight press heavier as he leaned against her. She looked down and noticed a large stain that darkened the shoulder of his jacket. Her gaze darted back toward the house and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Jeremy, one of their footmen, coming toward them with a blanket.

  “Let me help you, miss,” Jeremy said, leaning down to take Gray’s weight.

  Jeremy placed the blanket over Gray’s back, then draped Gray’s uninjured arm over his shoulder and helped him to his feet.

  Maggie stepped back while Jeremy led Gray past her, then followed them into the house. When they reached the foyer, she rushed to Gray’s other side and helped him up the stairs to one of the spare guest rooms.

  “Bring the doctor up the minute he arrives,” she told Aunt Hester when they had Gray’s boots off and his jacket unbuttoned.

  Aunt Hester left the room and Maggie loosened Gray’s shirt while Jeremy held him steady. A large patch of blood stained the fine lawn material and Maggie grabbed a towel from the bedside table and pressed it to the wound.

  “You’ve been shot,” she said, looking into Gray’s pain-filled eyes.

  “So it…seems.”

  Her heart flipped in her breast and she waited for Gray to tell her if he’d seen whoever had fired at him. When he didn’t say anything, she realized he wasn’t about to talk with Jeremy in the room.

  “Jeremy, get me some warm water and some fresh cloths.”

  “Are you sure you want me to leave you alone here?” Jeremy asked, glancing toward the door as if he was hoping someone would come in so she wouldn’t be alone.

  “You won’t be gone that long. Now hurry.”

  “Yes, Miss.” Jeremy rushed from the room.

  When he was gone, Maggie turned back to Gray. “Do you know who shot you?”

  He shook his head, then closed his eyes.

  Her heart thundered in her chest. Gray had been shot. He could have been killed. A fear unlike any she’d felt before gnawed at her insides.

  “We need to remove your shirt,” she said past the lump in her throat.

  She reached to slip Gray’s shirt over his shoulder but his hand shot out to jerk it out of her grasp.

  “Leave it,” he said on a gasp. “The doctor can do it.”

  “I won’t touch your wound. I just want to—”

  “No. Leave it.”

  He clutched the front of his shirt in his fist and held tight as if he didn’t want her to see how badly he was wounded.

  “I’ve tended wounds before, Mr. Delaney.”

  “I don’t doubt your nursing skills, Maggie, my love,” he said, then stopped to catch his breath.
“But I’ll let the good doctor do his damage first.”

  “Very well, but at least let me help you lie down.”

  “That I’ll let you do. The room doesn’t seem to want to stop spinning.”

  Maggie helped him lie down, then pulled the covers over him. “Do you really think that someone doesn’t want you here?”

  He breathed a heavy sigh. then shuddered. “Either that or they found out what I was doing and didn’t want you to have any more tied properties.”

  “But who?”

  He didn’t have a chance to answer the question because Aunt Hester rushed in with the doctor on her heels.

  Maggie stepped back to let the doctor look at Gray’s shoulder, but Gray stopped him with a lift of his hand. “You can come back when the doctor’s finished, Miss Bradford,” he said with a poor excuse for a smile on his lips. “And bring a bottle of Bradford’s finest ale, and…” He stopped to take a breath.

  “You can talk later, Mr. Delaney,” Maggie interrupted him before he could go on.

  She turned to leave, but his voice stopped her.

  “…and two glasses.”

  “I think one glass will be enough,” she said over her shoulder.

  “Not for a proper toast it won’t.”

  “What toast?”

  “To my success.”

  “Your suc—”

  Maggie wouldn’t have been able to finish her sentence even if Aunt Hester hadn’t pushed her out of the room. His announcement had been too great a shock.

  Bradford Brewery owned the King’s Crown.

  Chapter Ten

  “Did you hear what he said?” Maggie asked her aunt as they waited in the sitting room for the doctor to finish. Even though she hadn’t sent up the two glasses he’d requested, she had sent up a bottle of their finest ale. She thought he’d probably need it before the doctor was finished.

  “I heard. I assume he meant he was successful in his goal to purchase the King’s Crown.”

  “I can’t believe it.” Maggie sank further into the large, cushioned chair. She took another sip of the tea Aunt Hester had given orders to be brought in, then set the cup into its saucer with a clink.

  “What can’t you believe? That he was successful in his promise to purchase the King’s Crown, or that he actually followed through on something he told you he’d do?”