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Harlequin Historical July 2021--Box Set 2 of 2

Page 33

by Madeline Martin


  She caught a sparkle of smug assurance in Tenney’s eyes as he studied her expression.

  The music ended, and Tenney led her from the floor without another word.

  ‘If you wish for the marriage to be called off, Mr Tenney, I will do so.’ Her words were soft so that no one else could hear, but she could not keep the frost from them, and she had no ability to smile as Devlin did. ‘Sooner. Not later. You merely had to request what you wished for. Tonight is not the night. My entire family is here and I cannot bear to have them all question or commiserate. The night my mother worked so hard for will be ruined. Even a countess is here and that is a first for Mother. This is an important night for her. I cannot spoil it.’

  ‘That is your problem. I cannot take on a wife with no prospects and I refuse to let this betrothal continue. You will only use the length of it to punish me in a legal action. One second more is too long for this to continue. You will end it. And tonight.’

  ‘No. I will not. If you continue the charade tonight, I will send you a letter that plainly states I am calling the wedding off.’

  ‘It is in your best interest.’

  ‘Miss Albright.’ A voice rumbled behind her, caressing in its tone. She turned, almost falling into Devlin.

  ‘May I have the next dance?’ He put out a hand to stop her from tumbling against him. ‘And might I say, you have the loveliest nose I have ever seen.’ He held out his arm.

  Tenney gasped and she saw him reach for her, but she stepped aside.

  She spoke to Devlin. ‘And might I say, you have the best manners I have ever seen.’

  ‘You deserve the best, Miss Albright.’

  She let him lead her to the furthermost area from Tenney. ‘I fear I haven’t had that in the past.’

  Devlin didn’t speak. His jawline appeared to be made of granite and his eyes even harder.

  ‘But can we please not dance? I would prefer to stand still.’

  ‘I hope he chokes on his own stench. He has doused himself in some shaving soap that only vermin could survive, which explains how he is still upright.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ she said. ‘None of it does now. It’s over.’

  ‘What a waste of an education. What a waste of a human. What a waste of a nose.’

  ‘I’m not going to miss him as much as I conceived.’ She shuddered. ‘You were right. I will not miss him at all.’ She put a palm to her forehead. ‘I will only question my judgement.’

  ‘He is nothing more than a shrivelled stinkhorn mushroom.’

  ‘He is much worse than any toadstool.’

  Devlin paused. ‘I agree.’

  ‘Tenney and I have been acquainted a long time and it can’t have been easy for him. I will say a kind word for him in my prayers if I can think of any. Perhaps that he live a long and wintery life with many icicles to keep him warm, although no mushrooms survive the cold.’

  ‘The stinkhorn does.’

  Rachael stared at Devlin. She didn’t think she’d ever seen a toadstool in the wintertime, but then, she didn’t go out looking for them and she’d never heard of a stinkhorn mushroom before, but the name fit. He always wore an overabundant amount of scent.

  ‘I assure you, Rachael. You are better off without him.’

  ‘You’re right.’ She turned to him. ‘I feel lighter. This has weighed on me the past few days.’

  She considered what she would tell her parents the next morning and ask her mother to share it with a few close friends who weren’t known for discretion.

  ‘He’s a fungus,’ Devlin muttered.

  She brightened. ‘Thank you for understanding that it has been difficult for me. I feel so much better that you have been here tonight to bolster me up.’

  Devlin stopped, repeating her words. ‘Bolster you up?’

  ‘Yes. You always know what to say to make me feel better about the end of the betrothal. Tomorrow I will tell Mother that tonight Mr Tenney and I both agreed we have grown apart. I cannot say we are still friends. I can’t. But it must get about that I am no longer betrothed and that it was a decision on my part. He fears I’ll attempt a breach of promise and I won’t do that. He’s also concerned his uncle will want the funds replaced for a house that Ambrose purchased.’

  She suspected the dwelling had a lot to do with Ambrose’s timing. With the residence, he would be better positioned to approach unmarried women.

  ‘I’m surprised that he didn’t trust me enough to have a conversation with me. I would never subject him to a breach of promise suit. An ice storm, perhaps.’

  ‘That is solicitous of you,’ he said as the next dance began and they stood near the musicians, but where they could watch everyone. ‘I would be happy to bestow an ice storm upon him if I had the power. But really, does ice bother mushrooms or are they already trampled underfoot by women with discerning and beautifully shaped noses?’

  ‘Perhaps only one nose per woman?’ she asked, imagining a woman with three noses stomping a low-growing Tenney-faced weed into the ground. She laughed.

  Tenney must have recognised the laugh because his face darted in her direction, before he gave a glare and left.

  ‘You are making this much easier,’ she said to Devlin.

  ‘At your service. Any time you need to rid yourself of a defective sweetheart, find me.’

  ‘Hopefully, never again. Never.’

  The music commenced for another dance.

  ‘Tomorrow I will tell my parents,’ she said. ‘Then Mother will tell my aunts and cousins. It will be easy to explain to her that after I saw him tonight, I felt no affection.’

  The world had not ended. She would be a spinster, but she would develop a pastime. Something that made the world better, or at least, made her feel better.

  She remembered Tenney’s comment that her father’s business was in financial distress. She hoped it was another of his imaginations. Surely it was. But if he believed her impoverished and no longer wished to marry her because of her lack of funds...

  Devlin watched her, concern in his face, and that erased the feeling of being spurned.

  ‘You have befriended me at the time I needed it most,’ she said. ‘Your cousin reports you are an exemplary friend who could soothe over a windstorm and turn it into dust. It’s true.’

  Devlin didn’t answer.

  She compared his jaw to Tenney’s, which always seemed smooth and soft. Devlin had been dishevelled in the library, nearly sporting a beard, but on him, it only made him more endearing.

  She noticed the crisp starch of freshly laundered clothing, a hint of another soft soap that he’d perhaps used on his hair and a gentle leather scent. The delicate fragrance around him only contrasted against his strength.

  ‘I believe I would like to do something risqué,’ she said.

  His brows lifted and her chin went up.

  ‘Yes.’ She felt daring and imagined she could combine her maturity and the spinster. ‘I believe I will have another glass of punch.’

  ‘Dare you be so foolhardy?’ he asked.

  ‘You’ve not tasted the punch. It’s more potent than the wine.’

  ‘I would be honoured to dance with you, Rachael, and help you show your daring side to the world. Are you sure you would not consider it now that Tenney has left? A waltz?’

  ‘Perhaps something more respectable?’

  Humour flashed across his face.

  ‘It is just because Mother informed the musicians they must keep the waltzes to a minimum and they will not play another one.’

  ‘Then we will take our chances with whatever music they play.’

  Ending the night by dancing with Devlin helped her consider herself precious instead of rejected. His ire somehow made her feel protected, more feminine and without the many defects Tenney had listed.

  She caught
her reflection in a mirror and examined her nose. Nothing was wrong with it. Tenney was a liar.

  Devlin must have been watching her. ‘It has not grown this evening. I promise I will let you know if it swells or takes flight. And if you should have three, I will kiss the tip of each one.’

  Her eyes brightened. ‘I would let you.’

  Devlin’s lips turned up with soft laughter and his head dipped just a touch in acknowledgement of the private bond between them and it was as if they had kissed.

  For such a disastrous night, she was surprised at how much better she felt.

  But then she noticed Tenney had returned and was watching them. He huffed and stalked out of the door. In that instant, she remembered how vengeful he could be.

  CHAPTER NINE

  With fashion plates spread before her and her mother standing at her shoulder, the time would never be better. She filled her lungs and the words burst out of her. ‘Mr Tenney and I will not wed.’

  Her mother’s rings flashed as she clasped her hands. ‘Oh.’

  Rachael bit the inside of her lip.

  ‘So that is why you became distressed after you received the post at the Countess’s?’ her mother asked.

  ‘Yes. I don’t want to even be near him again. It was almost a game I was playing...being in love.’ She traced her fingertip over the costly ballgown she would never wear. ‘I missed him when he left. I waited for each letter. I read them time and time again. I would have married him.’

  ‘Are you positive it’s over?’

  ‘I posted a kind letter to him today calling it off. It is in my handwriting and he will have proof I will not consider a breach of promise suit.’

  Mrs Albright threw up her hands. ‘My daughter. She sends the man verification to reassure him after she waits for him for six—six—six and a half years.’

  Rachael felt she was in the lull before the storm, but in this case it was after. Her mother hadn’t reacted with dismay as she’d expected.

  ‘Are you returning the ring?’ her mother asked. ‘Promise me you will do the right thing and return the...object.’

  ‘Of course. I sent it to him with the letter this morning.’ She shut her eyes. ‘It never fitted properly on my finger. I kept studying it, wondering how his relative could have tolerated such an atrocity.’

  ‘Your heart may have been telling you that the two of you weren’t suited.’

  Rachael stared at her mother. ‘Would you want the stone?’

  ‘No. The person who cut that rock could never work for your father. The flaw was sizeable. And the colour?’ She shuddered. ‘It proved your fondness for him that you liked it. Besides, he smelled rather like a bottle of medicine. Not the good medicine, either.’

  ‘That I tolerated the flawed gemstone was the indication I cared for him.’

  ‘Perhaps the first three years. I’d say you tolerated him after that. Love is a jewel in its own right. And in Tenney’s case, a defective one.’

  ‘With inferior metal.’

  Her mother smiled. At that moment, Rachael accepted that her mother hadn’t been fond of Tenney and was pleased to see him go. It had never entered Rachael’s mind that her mother might be happy about a broken betrothal.

  ‘Not to mention he liked the idea of having the shops,’ Mrs Albright said. ‘He did comment on the nice lodgings above it for the Grimsleys and wondered about the rent per annum. We are fortunate that the Grimsleys work for us. They are such dears.’

  Inwardly, Rachael flinched. If Tenney had determined he was getting a thriving business, but then heard it wasn’t...perhaps he had never cared for her at all. Perhaps, for six years, she’d been duped. And perhaps he knew what he was speaking of when he said that her father’s finances were faulty.

  Rachael refused to ask her mother if their finances weren’t doing well. Besides, she wouldn’t know. Only her father would. And Mr Grimsley, but likely he would consider it disloyal to speak with her about such a thing without her father’s blessing.

  ‘Does your father know that you are calling the betrothal off?’

  ‘No. I’ll tell him tonight. Will you tell the cousins?’

  Her mother nodded. ‘And I will inform them that is why you never set a date for the marriage. Deep inside, you knew he wasn’t right for you.’

  ‘That might not be honest.’

  ‘Then I will tell them that we are just extremely fortunate that you did not set a date for the marriage. And I will say that I suspected many times he wasn’t right for you. It will not be a lie.’

  Rachael examined the ring on her forefinger. One of her grandmother’s many gems she and her sister had inherited. It felt good to wear the heirloom. ‘At first, I was disappointed and I’m still hurt, but it is for the best. I will be happy to be a shop owner’s daughter.’

  She remembered Tenney’s words about her father’s business, and how, of late, her father often seemed preoccupied.

  She’d even heard him ask her mother about the cost of the soirée and he’d chewed his lip after she answered, but he’d assured her that no price was too much for his family to be happy.

  An overwhelming loneliness engulfed her. She turned her head so her mother couldn’t perceive the tears in her eyes, but her mother wasn’t fooled.

  Her mother bent to hug Rachael. ‘He’s not worth crying over.’

  ‘I know,’ she said, but she wasn’t sure if the words were true. It wasn’t Mr Tenney she missed. But Devlin.

  She’d not anticipated that removing Ambrose from her life would take out Devlin as well.

  * * *

  Devlin sat at his breakfast table, sipped his tea and half-listened to the Baron go on about his latest love. He pretended to read the paper and only spoke at the longest pauses Bomford delivered. The ones after he recounted something particularly lovely about Priscilla. Devlin wished the Baron would sometimes think before he fell in love. If only for half an hour. Less even. The time it took to turn the page on a newspaper.

  Bomford was deeply in love with Priscilla and recounting her qualities, both of them, ad infinitum.

  ‘Do you think you are falling in love with her excess of bosom?’ Devlin glanced over the top of the paper and asked. Just asked, then he noted, ‘It’s hard to miss her. She tends to flutter about and reminds me of a loud bird.’

  A true statement. Terribly unkind and he felt a cad for saying the most offensive thing he could think of. A test of his ability not to anger. He wanted to be certain he was not deluding himself in believing he could soothe almost any statement. Yet, it was important for him to know if he did have a skill he’d not grasped and which he’d taken for granted.

  But, by the equanimity on Bomford’s face, Devlin could see no offence was taken. He wondered if he had a calming voice, an inflection of tone, or a skill of making an observation at the right moment that took the sting out of whatever words he might utter.

  ‘She cannot alter her bosom.’ Bomford smiled. ‘And she is a swan in a pool of lesser birds. If few men with substance have been fascinated by her, then it is time one did. I am pleased you understand that. Poor woman. I must be more cautious with her, to have been troubled with so many ill-guided attentions.’

  Devlin shrugged. He could speak the truth and no one even held him at fault. He’d heard the phrase silver-tongued before and it hadn’t entered his mind that it could possibly apply to him, or that he had a rare ability to speak without offending.

  He turned the page of the newspaper, then looked over the top again. ‘Do you think you have been quick to fall in love? Perhaps not really thinking?’

  The Baron gazed into the distance. ‘Good on you to watch out for your old friend, Devlin. Yes. I have. Now I can reflect on it. I will discuss it with Priscilla and find out what she thinks. Perhaps she and I will be able to find solace in each other’s arms. I may propose.’
r />   Devlin returned to reading the paper. ‘You’re being rash.’

  The Baron nodded. ‘I suppose so. Both Priscilla and I have been alone for so long. It is time we both found happiness.’

  The paper rustled as Devlin again turned the page. Well, perhaps Bomford and Priscilla were well suited for each other. Yes, he decided, they were.

  Payton walked in. He had a folded newspaper and he used it to tap Devlin on the shoulder.

  ‘Oh. You’ve got a copy,’ Payton noted. ‘Surprised you’re not angry. Just anticipated you might be.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘The newsprint.’ Then he noticed the paper Devlin read. ‘Oh. Wrong one. You’re reading The Times.’ He shrugged. ‘A wasted life, yours. This auspicious one has all the latest scandals.’

  Devlin cleared his throat and glared at his cousin. ‘You are an idler.’

  Payton laughed. ‘You’re correct. I’m right there with you.’

  Damn. Perhaps no one took him seriously.

  Payton opened his paper. ‘The night that Miss Albright danced with Tenney, it’s said that a lot more was happening. It’s said she only had eyes for a particular viscount,’ Payton continued. ‘Tenney was deeply distraught. I am not even mentioned and she spoke some time with me. Guess one’s not important if one doesn’t have a title.’

  Devlin held out a hand for the paper and Payton released it.

  He spoke to the Baron. ‘It seems Miss Albright has spurned Mr Tenney’s devoted attentions after a friend alerted him she is becoming loose with said affections. He discovered it to be true, according to this friend who is not named.’ He touched his chest and his voice took on overblown innocence. ‘Who suspected she could be...attached to anyone but this Tenney?’

  Each word Devlin read seized him, strangling his voice. He had to crumple the paper before he could speak. ‘It is not true and you know it. It is a malicious lie.’

  ‘I don’t believe Miss Albright is the fickle shrew she is painted in the story, but the paper reports it is to Tenney’s great relief that she has called off the betrothal. It seems she dragged it along only planning to keep him until he was well established and so her settlement in a breach of promise would be more. It’s said she acted outrageously at an earlier night and her flagrant behaviour may have resulted in an altercation between two men, causing a fire.’

 

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