Harlequin Historical July 2021--Box Set 2 of 2

by Madeline Martin

  He studied the bracelet, frowning.

  She didn’t want Tenney’s new beloved to be wearing a piece she’d worn first. It didn’t bother her except she wouldn’t have wanted to be given a jewel such as that.

  Tenney smiled, returning the bracelets. ‘I like the other best. The first one. It’s not as fine as my betrothal ring you returned, but...’

  ‘Your family heirloom gave me an idea for some new additions to our selections.’

  His brows flicked up in acknowledgement.

  She returned the bag to Grimsley. He gave her the tiniest shrug, put the bag aside, then reached in his pocket and took out a cloth to wipe the candlestick before putting it on the shelf.

  Her feelings truly weren’t there for Tenney and she would thank him for the rest of her life for writing the letter that ended their friendship.

  She was a better person for it and it hadn’t even left a scar.

  And the scars she did have were only on the surface and a surface that was mostly out of the way and, for the time being, she was thankful for it. The path to her new life had begun that night.

  ‘Since the pastime is doing so well, I’m sure you won’t mind gifting me the bracelet,’ Tenney interrupted her thoughts.

  His eyes told her she had heard correctly. ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘You know, Rachael, I have a lot of friends in society. It will not do well to have questions stirred about your past. About your life. About your future. The comments about you breaking our betrothal are just now fading.’

  ‘Truly?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘No. That’s not what I meant when I said truly. Truly, you are going to sink so low?’ She blinked and he was still there and still had the same reptilian stare.

  That stare worked on her like a snake strike and she reacted instinctively, but she didn’t dodge. Instead, she planted her feet. ‘Do your worst. But it will not be unnoticed. Because of you, I’ve become acquainted with the editor of the newspaper. He recently printed that I was a sparkling gem at Countess of Merriweather’s ball. And I’m soon to be attending an event where I will see the Duchess of Highwood. We have recently shared a quiet conversation. I’m sure she would not mind sparing more time to chat with me. And she isn’t known for verbal discretion.’

  She paused, lowering her voice to a purr. ‘I would step softly, Ambrose. The people I have tea with are the people you might like to work for. And if you tell lies about me, I will tell truths about you.’

  He waved an arm, stepping back. ‘You can keep the rubbish. There are better merchants in town.’

  He stalked out, the bell above the door clattering as he left.

  Grimsley walked to her, the candlestick back in his hand, staring after Tenney. ‘Say the word, Miss Rachael, and I will go after him and give him a knock on the head.’

  ‘I wouldn’t want to inflict that on the merchandise.’

  Grimsley spoke under his breath.

  ‘I believe I will order that ring we discussed when I arrived,’ she told Grimsley.

  ‘The one for poison powders?’ Grimsley watched where Ambrose Tenney walked beyond the window. ‘I can have it filled for you.’

  ‘No. It’s not for him. The gimmel one.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  He directed his carriage to halt one house further from Rachael’s. The moonlight was bright and he didn’t want to take more chances.

  He’d been tempted to stop the vehicle closer to Rachael’s home and have a shorter distance to walk, arriving quicker, but instead, he asked the carriage driver to find the darkest shadows and wait there.

  It was odd how doing something secretively and not getting noticed could increase a person’s belief that they could never get caught.

  And if they were seen together, and Rachael’s reputation was hurt, it would be a loss for everyone. He would never know if she felt forced into a marriage to save her reputation and the shops. Or, if rumour got out that they were together and the business suffered, he would blame himself for her financial disaster.

  As he approached the house, fabric fluttered in place at an upper-storey window. He supposed he would be waiting for Rachael to join him. Instead, the front door opened, Rachael ran out and a male voice told her to take care.

  She ran to him and he lingered, drinking in the vision of seeing a sprite in the moonlight. Relief overflowed inside him that they would be together again.

  He clasped her, giving a swirl and spinning her around before he allowed himself the joy of bringing her into his arms and holding her along the length of him, for one brief sweet, torturous moment before letting her go.

  ‘Who spoke to you as you were leaving?’ he asked, putting an arm around her to bring her close and make it less likely she would be recognised while he hurried her away.

  ‘The butler.’

  ‘The face at the upper storey?’ Her feet pattered along beside him and he slowed his steps to make it easier for her to keep pace.

  ‘Oh, that was likely my mother,’ she said. ‘They are all concerned for me.’

  ‘They all know you are meeting me?’ He slowed again in an attempt to discern her face.

  ‘All except...well, my father may know as well, but be keeping it a secret from me. My mother said she must trust that I know what I am doing.’

  He marvelled at the cocoon of closeness she had around her and pulled her near for a brief hug, reassuring himself that she was, for a moment, with him.

  The carriage rolled towards them. When it stopped, he reached to open the door and, with both hands at her waist, lifted her in a swirl of skirts. He kept his elbow out to protect her from the door. ‘Lower your head,’ he said and she disappeared inside the doorway.

  With one boot on the metal step, he pulled himself into the vehicle, turned back and captured the door, closing them in.

  He stopped, just to breathe in the flowery, womanly scent that was Rachael and feel the contentment of knowing they would have a few hours together.

  He put fingertips to her cheek and let them dance along her jawline, her contours resonating in his body.

  Their kiss was liquid emotion, tasting of things innocent and sweet, yet pulsing with desire.

  * * *

  Rachael moved up the stairs with Devlin, pleased that it wasn’t a moonlit night, but in his room, Devlin stilled before adjusting the lamp. ‘Out, or, as I would prefer, left on?’

  She couldn’t answer.

  ‘I want you to feel comfortable. But I also want you to be proud of your beauty.’

  ‘On.’

  What if Devlin flinched at her scar?

  He moved back to her and rotated her body, undoing the hooks of her gown and slipping the cloth upwards. The silk slid over her shoulders, but the sensation didn’t calm her.

  ‘You have nothing to fear,’ he said. ‘Nothing.’

  He slid the fabric free, then untied her corset and dropped it, holding out his hand so that she could keep her balance as she stepped from it.

  The chemise that had been pressed against her body fell loosely as she moved and he drew her against his chest, the thin layer of her chemise doing nothing to diffuse the feelings he stirred.

  His arms encased her, surrounding her with the feeling of the most security she’d ever known in her life. She felt fragile and yet unbreakable.

  His moist lips against her skin erased every pain she’d ever felt and she turned, capturing him in a kiss.

  Next, he stepped aside enough to remove his trousers. With a delicate touch, he slid the chemise over her head.

  His hardness pressed against her stomach, and he slid his hands down her back, stopping to grasp her waist and pull her closer.

  Summoning her courage, she took his hand from her waist and guided it over the scar, holding it firm, making sure he didn’t press
too hard.

  She needn’t have concerned herself.

  His fingers trailed softly over the uneven skin and he traced the marred area, sending shivers into her that touched her core. ‘If it were not for the discomfort to you, not worth a fuss. You’re made even more unique. They show you are a survivor.’

  ‘That is kind of you to say.’

  His lips rested in the crook of her neck, the honesty of his words reverberating inside her. ‘I’m not being kind at all. Just truthful.’

  Then he stepped back, guiding her with him, and lowered himself on to the bed, keeping her above him.

  ‘Your scar only increases your perfection and beauty. It makes you all the stronger.’

  ‘You saved me.’

  ‘If I had known, I would have prevented the accident, because I ache at the thought of you suffering. I would happily bear the pain myself, rather than it be inflicted on you.’

  He kissed her, guiding her on top of him, uniting with her and leading her into a path of passion and discovery.

  * * *

  When their lovemaking was completed, he slid from the bed.

  An expanse of male chest was in front of her. He was completely unselfconscious and that gave her pause.

  She’d not imagined herself ever to be so relaxed in front of him, but then his eyes raked over her, with the sheet around her, and caused a heat to soar inside her and a tingling in her breasts, freeing her from self-consciousness.

  Perhaps she could.

  ‘Does the burn still hurt?’ he asked, while donning his trousers. He sat to slip on his boots before returning to his feet.

  She shrugged. ‘Some. Nothing bad. I’m careful not to wear a corset too tight.’

  He donned his shirt and then his waistcoat. ‘Are you going to lie there all night?’ he asked. ‘I’d expected you to be jumping from the bed and rushing me to get you home. Like last time.’

  She pulled the sheet with her and sat. ‘I didn’t schedule anything for early in the morning.’

  ‘Thoughtful of you.’ The words were drawled into the room.

  ‘It is vital to me. To change the direction of the shop. To keep my grandfather’s hard work going as he would have wanted it,’ she said.

  ‘Because it’s important to you, it’s important to me.’

  She’d not expected him to say that. ‘I didn’t think you liked it.’

  ‘I would rather it not concern you. I would rather your life have no more worry than what colour ribbon might improve a bonnet and let someone else handle all the rest of it. But I wouldn’t like my life to only be what style my next hat will be and I suppose you feel the same way.’

  ‘I do. Plus, I don’t trust my feelings. I saw Ambrose today and that frightened me anew. I came within a hair’s breadth of an unsatisfactory marriage.’ She could not admit to him how pathetic she now found Tenney. She’d been so wrong. So wrong.

  ‘I’m not Tenney. Don’t hang on to his memory to push me from you. If you wish to end our connection, I understand, but don’t use him as an excuse. Don’t compare me to him. We’re not the same person.’

  Aligning at the bed, he lifted her hand to his lips. He placed a kiss in her palm and then closed her fist over it. He grasped her wrist lightly and moved it so that her hand touched over her heart.

  ‘I’ll lace up your corset when I return,’ he said. ‘And then we’ll get you home safely and quietly.’

  ‘What are you going to do?’

  ‘I’m going to alert the carriage driver to be ready.’

  He walked out of the door and she realised a marriage proposal would have been a much better end to lovemaking than having a carriage readied.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  The next day, Rachael was summoned to the sitting room. Devlin stood as she rose. His cravat was black and his eyes intense.

  ‘He ran away.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘My dog.’

  ‘Scamp?’ she asked. ‘He could barely walk.’

  ‘I know. He had to be determined just to get down the stairs.’

  ‘How did he get out?’

  ‘The butler opened the door to go out and Scamp charged into the street. The stable boy tried to stop him and Scamp tripped him and drooled on him. I had to give the stable boy another promotion quickly or he might have run away as well.’

  ‘Scamp could actually run?’

  ‘Yes. At least out of my front door. I can’t imagine him able to get much further. The butler thinks the dog had a flicker of lucidity and he remembered where he belonged. That’s what we hope for anyway.’

  ‘How can you be distraught? You just got him and you chose him because of his age. You gave him two happy days or so.’

  ‘Yes. I know. But I feel rather betrayed. As if he didn’t choose to be with me.’

  ‘He remembered where he lived and wanted to find his true family.’

  ‘He had excellent staff at my home.’

  ‘A home isn’t judged by the number of servants.’

  ‘Don’t make light of it.’ Devlin stared at her. ‘This was a test for me. A chance to test how well I might get on with something other than family. I’d given him a good house and meals, and spent time with him.’

  ‘Perhaps you could get another pet?’

  ‘None would need me as much as Scamp. I liked that dog.’

  ‘You couldn’t have been that fond of Scamp.’

  ‘I was fond enough. I was proving that I could be—a dog owner.’

  ‘Maybe you should have started with a bird.’

  The glare he gave her would have shocked his friends because they wouldn’t have believed him capable of appearing so cross. She burst out laughing. ‘He just remembered where his owner was and wanted to go home.’

  Devlin levelled a glance at her. ‘When Scamp was in my life for just a short while and I was drawn to him, I wondered why. At first, I thought he needed me. He wasn’t impressed by me which gave me pause. He treated me the same as he would have an underservant.’

  The words remained in the air between them and gently evolved.

  ‘You think that is why you are attracted to me. Because I’m not impressed by you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Am I more to you than others?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘That I even considered that question does not bode well,’ he said. ‘If I don’t feel it, then I wonder if you are capable of putting me first in your life, or if you will always find a reason to pursue something else before me.’

  ‘Are you telling me that you don’t wish to continue our friendship?’

  ‘No, I’m asking you to make sure you want to. I’m asking you to put me above all others.’

  * * *

  For the first time since her accident, she anticipated going to the dance, expecting a perfect night.

  She’d talked to Mr Grimsley earlier in the day and he’d been the happiest she’d ever seen him. He’d mentioned customers had arrived to examine the rings and that one customer had purchased a matching set of bracelets and a necklace. Then a betrothed woman had stopped at the shop with her mother because they were selecting items for the bride-to-be’s new residence. Grimsley steered them away from particular specially designed rings.

  The only disappointment was that Devlin wouldn’t be at the event. He’d promised to spend the evening with his father.

  When she arrived at the soirée, her first sight was the wallflower, Susanna, whom she’d met when they’d discussed the failure of both their betrothals. They stood at the refreshments when the music began for the opening dance.

  ‘Your earrings tonight are lovely, but by far my favourite jewellery you’ve worn was the sapphires at the last soirée,’ Susanna said. ‘I told Mother how much I liked them and s
he said she will let me have a similar pair for my birthday. They were close to a match with my eye colour.’

  Rachael studied Susanna’s irises. ‘I’ve seen jewels that are the exact colour you need. I know someone who could locate some and make earrings like the pair I had on. The stones themselves aren’t as costly, but I think you would be happier with them because people will be more aware of your eyes.’

  Susanna ducked her head. ‘That’s the feature people notice most about me, I’d be thrilled with jewellery to match.’

  Then, as she raised her face her expression tensed when she saw someone behind Rachael.

  ‘I hope she doesn’t talk to me,’ Susanna whispered and Rachael saw her glance at the Duchess of Highwood. ‘She always makes me nervous.’

  Almost before the words were out of her mouth, the Duchess noticed them and came their way. Susanna cringed, standing closer to Rachael.

  ‘So sad you had to spend the last year in black, but I think you should have mourned an extra year to show you really cared,’ the older woman said to Susanna. ‘Attending parties is not the way to sufficiently exhibit your love.’ She patted Susanna’s arm. ‘Fetch me a glass of wine.’

  Susanna raised a gloved finger and a footman responded, and brought a tray by them.

  They each took a glass.

  ‘I told Lady Smith not to plan any waltz music tonight. At first I approved of it, but now I see how it could corrupt young ladies like yourselves, assuming you’ve not been corrupted already with those broken betrothals.’ She rotated her arm, almost colliding with Susanna.

  Susanna retreated to avoid the Duchess’s glass and stumbled on her skirt hem. Her drink wobbled and she lurched to catch it.

  The liquid splashed towards the older woman’s face.

  The woman shrieked. Half the musicians stopped playing and all eyes turned her way, observing the wine dripping from the point of the Duchess’s chin and running in rivulets down her collarbone on to her décolleté.

  The last instruments stilled.

  In that second, Rachael recognised the silence. She’d heard it before.

  Even though Susanna was still standing, her face had crumpled and her empty glass dangled from her fingertips.