Kissing her deeply, he reveled in the taste of her until she was breathless. Then he broke away and she staggered a little. She stared at him for a few moments then made a show of straightening her skirts.
“This changes nothing, Brook,” she said finally, her words so satisfyingly breathy.
It took all his willpower not to drag her into his arms again. He wasn’t wrong—she was scared. But she would have to come to the realization on her own, he suspected. A woman like Chloe could not be forced into anything.
“I think we should arrange for our fathers to meet in town,” he suggested.
Creases appeared between her brows and she blinked at him several times before nodding. “Yes, that could work.”
“Excellent. I shall send word again soon once we have established how and where. I will talk with my father about taking a trip and you do the same with yours.”
“O-of course.”
“And, Chloe, there is no need to be scared.”
“I am not—” She blew out a heavy breath. “I am going home, Brook. I suggest you do the same.”
He watched her leave and waited until she vanished over the horizon, her speedy pace taking her out of his sight too quickly for his liking. He could not help but smile to himself, though. Her reaction told him all he needed to know—and it confirmed it all in his mind. He was falling for Miss Chloe Larkin and she was doing the same for him.
Chapter Thirteen
Steely grey clouds spread across the sky, an unwelcome blanket that hung heavy over the horizon. Chloe grimaced. This did not bode well for their plan. If it rained, her father might not wish to disembark from the carriage and might even return home. She glanced at her mother and father opposite her in the carriage, and her stomach bunched. All this plotting against her parents was making her uneasy even if she knew it was for the right reasons.
Because it was for the right reasons, was it not? It had nothing to do with wishing to see Brook and wondering if she might just get another kiss from him.
Or perhaps she really was that selfish and the reason she was continuing on with this was to see him again. No matter how foolish that made her. As much as she’d like to believe him, there was no way Mr. Brook Waverley had proper feelings for her. Even if he had some kind of stirrings, they would pass soon enough. There were many people who enjoyed her company and her knowledge born of books, but she was not silly enough to believe that her companionship would keep a man like him forever entertained.
She blew out a breath and twined her fingers together, focusing her attention on the lace trim around her gloves. The kiss—and the talk of his feelings—was done. She needed to move on and focus on what they were doing here.
Beside her, Freddie fidgeted, huffing because he felt Chloe took up all the space on the seat. She hoped things went well, for her brother’s sake as much as her. Freddie could do without witnessing an argument between the two men.
She stole another glance at her father. He looked tired today, with dark circles around his eyes. When she had suggested they might all travel into town together and partake in tea, her father had seemed keen on the idea.
If he was curious as to her sudden need for his company, she did not know, but since their failed walk, he had been keen to make it up to her. If anything, that made her feel worse about the deception. However, this needed to be done. He was likely tired because he had been up early and angry over the border. Yet again, the fence was back over their side and her father had been barking orders for it to be moved immediately. It was no wonder he was not doing well with this matter causing him so much stress.
Tightness gathered in her throat when they reached the fountain in the middle of the town. The fountain was where she had suggested she and Brook meet. The carriages could circle around, drop off their passengers and return to collect them later. It was the ideal place for them to all meet oh so accidentally.
Her heartbeat increased when she recognized the Waverleys’ carriage departing the circular road around the fountain. Brook spotted her looking out of the carriage window and gave her the briefest nod before turning his attention back to his father. This was it then. They were finally going to get their fathers if not in the same room, then in the same town. She only hoped the public setting would prevent them from doing anything too drastic to one another.
The carriage came to a halt, rocking on its suspension. Chloe offered her father a shaky smile as he handed her down. All this deception was beginning to drive her mad. That would at least explain why she was letting herself get involved with a man like Brook. It might even account for why she had been so keen to kiss him.
Yes, she rather liked the sound of that. It was just madness that was doing this to her. As soon as they repaired their fathers’ relationships, the better, and then she could put an end to this madness.
She waited for her father to spot George Waverley. She dare not look directly at them but she could see Brook conversing with his father and no doubt trying to delay his departure from the area. Chloe’s mother fussed with her skirts and her hat, buying them time for both men to see one another, even though her mother had little idea she was doing such a thing. If her mama knew what was going on, Chloe would be in for a reprimand indeed. As tired as they both were of the arguments, her mother would inevitably take her father’s side and wanted a peaceful life, which usually meant indulging her husband’s argument with the Waverleys.
“What the bloody hell is he doing here?”
Chloe snapped her head around, her stomach curdling with dread. Her father’s attention was fixed on George Waverley and she could see the fury building in his gaze. He balled his fists at his side and redness tinged his cheeks. Chloe pressed a hand to her chest. Oh Lord, what a mistake this had been. How naive they were to imagine that either of their fathers might be able to have a civilized conversation simply because they were on display. After all, everyone knew of the argument between the two families. It was public knowledge and therefore they had nothing to hide.
Brook’s father finally glanced their way and Chloe held her breath. She saw the same anger quickly take over his expression and she shared a look with Brook. He perhaps had not quite come to the realization that she had—that this was all a massive mistake—but she saw the apprehension in his expression. Mr. Waverley marched over to them, his gait slightly lopsided, revealing the toll his recent heart attack had taken. Her own father was no quicker but both men still closed the gap between them with enough speed that Chloe and Brook had to hurry to catch up with them.
“You moved the damn fence again,” her father said, thrusting a finger Mr. Waverley’s way.
“Of course I did. I was taking back my land. As I am well within my rights to do,” Mr. Waverley bellowed.
“It is not your damned land, when will you get that through your thick skull, George?”
“Just about the same time when you stop being a callous bastard,” Mr. Waverley spat.
Her father snorted. “Callous bastard? You’re a fine one to talk.”
“I’m not the one responsible for the death of an innocent woman.” George Waverley took a step closer.
Chloe sent a desperate look Brook’s way. Somehow, they needed to get their fathers to calm down but she could not fathom how. Brook stepped in between the two men, his hands held, palm out, to halt both of them. “I do not think we need to fight, gentleman. This is not the time nor the place.”
“Fight?” Mr. Waverley said. “I’ll fight him anytime. Anytime, anywhere.”
“Gladly!” Her father straightened his shoulders. “I’ll fight you right here, Waverley. And I’ll take great pleasure in seeing you beaten.”
Brook shook his head. “No one needs to be beaten here today. Especially not in front of your wife and children, Mr. Larkin.” Brook sent a pointed look Chloe and her mother’s way.
Her mother clung to her arm. “If they fight, both men will end up dead. Neither of them have the strength.”
“Fath
er is strong enough to best him,” Freddie muttered.
Chloe nodded. She and Brook had underestimated their fathers’ desire for blood. She might have expected some cross words but she certainly did not expect them to leap to the idea of fighting immediately.
“Don’t you tell me what to do in front of my children,” snapped her father. Turning his attention on to Brook.
“Don’t you tell my son what to do.” Mr. Waverley squared his shoulders and faced her father head on.
“Everyone is looking, Chloe,” her brother said, tucking himself behind their mother as his freckled cheeks reddened.
A crowd had begun to gather around them. Chloe unhooked her mother’s arms from hers, patting the back of her hand. If she did not do something soon, she suspected it really would come to fisticuffs. She stepped up to the two men as they raised their fists. Brook had already inserted himself fully in between them, however, they continued to shout at each other as though he was not even there.
“Stop!” Chloe stamped down a foot and put a hand on her father’s chest, then to Mr. Waverley’s.
Both men froze. She turned her attention to her father first, ensuring that he made eye contact with her. “Stop,” she said more softly this time. “This is not how a gentleman behaves.” She turned to face Mr. Waverley. “I do not care how much you two hate each other, this is not the way to act in public. I am ashamed of both of you. What an example you are setting to your children.”
“Look, Freddie is watching your every move. Do you wish him to behave the same when he grows up? You wish for him to be fighting in public? Airing all of his private business?” she demanded of her father.
He gave a grunt.
Brook gave her a brief but grateful look. This had not gone how either of them had planned and Chloe was beginning to wonder why they ever thought it would be any different. Decades of bad blood between the family was not going to be ended by one quick meeting. If they were to ever fix this—good Lord, she could not fathom how—it would take a lot more than a chance meeting.
“She’s right, Father,” Brook agreed. “You are both making a scene.”
“I did not make a scene. He started it.” His father puffed out his chest.
“Why you—” Chloe’s father began.
“Father!” Chloe snapped. “That is enough.” She forcibly took her father’s arm and began to walk away. She thought he might fight her on it, but he relented, allowing her to take him back to the carriage. It did not prevent him from shooting daggers at George Waverley, however.
She could hear Mr Waverley muttering angry words under his breath. She corralled her father back into the carriage and her mother swiftly settled next to him. Freddie leaned his head far out of the coach to eye Brook and his father.
“Marcus, you really shouldn’t have,” her mother said softly, tugging Freddie back into the carriage by his jacket.
Freddie simply looked amused by it all. “I think you should have punched him, Father.”
“Freddie!” Mama scolded.
“If he had punched him,” Chloe told her little brother. “They might well have ended up in jail. You wish our father to be dead?”
“I could have bested him,” her father grumbled. “He’s weak after a heart attack. He is a weak old man.”
“And you are no sprightly lad,” her mother said with a little more bite than Chloe might have expected.
Her father snapped his mouth shut after shooting his wife a surprised look. Settling back in the carriage, he tugged his hat over his face and closed his eyes, pretending to sleep. At least he was no longer spouting threats of duels and beating up Mr. Waverley.
Chloe watched Brook and his father still standing by the fountain as the carriage rolled away. He shot her the briefest, regretful look before his father could spot him. They would have to meet again, and soon if they were going to fix what had happened. She suspected their meddling may have made things even worse. Especially now that her little brother had seen what had gone on and seemed to think it all highly amusing.
Her mother tapped Chloe’s hand, giving her knuckles a little rub. “Do not be upset, Chloe. I have witnessed too many of these arguments and they all turn out the same. Both men will go off, fight about the border a little longer, and hopefully never see each other again.”
Chloe could not decide if she was more upset over the events of today or whether she had been so foolish to think that she could fix so much anger within one day. It seemed to her that the fates were completely against the families ever coming to an agreement. And that had to mean, there was no chance there could ever be anything between her and Brook. Even if she had, for one silly moment, believed his words yesterday.
Chapter Fourteen
“You must take me for a fool, boy,” Brook’s father said, thrusting a finger in his direction over the dinner table.
“I am not at all certain what you mean,” Brook said nonchalantly.
His mother arched an eyebrow at them both but remained quiet, concentrating on her dinner. She had already heard all about the argument today but had wisely remained quiet on the matter. Though Brook was tempted to scold his father for his behavior, it would do no good.
He and Chloe had severely underestimated the anger both of their fathers held. He grimaced. He was sorry for getting Chloe involved in the matter now. She had looked on the verge of tears by the time they left, though she had done an outstanding job of standing up to their fathers.
“This outing today. I had wondered why you might want to visit town with your father. Now I know why. This is some misguided notion of getting me to talk to Marcus.”
Brook frowned and wondered whether he should try to lie. He should have known his father would see through the invite. If they were to spend time together, they were more likely to go hunting than take a drink in town.
“I had heard you spent time with that Larkin girl at the ball. Whatever hold she has over you, you would be wise to let it go.”
Brook glanced at his mother who simply shrugged. “A mere dance, Father. I have danced with many women. It means nothing.” The words felt like a bitter lie on his tongue.
His father jabbed a fork in his direction. “Stay away from her,” he warned. “All Larkins are the same. She will seduce you and use you, mark my words.”
Brook could not help but smile at the idea of Chloe using him. He would not mind the seduction, however, she was hardly the sort to do such a thing. If his father only knew Chloe, he was certain he would like her very much. God knows, Brook liked her an immense amount. So much so that he was thinking there might be another way to rectify the situation between the families.
“Son, I mean it.”
Brook did not bother to argue. There was no point when his father was in such a mood. If anything, this whole matter simply made him more determined to fix things between the families, especially seeing how upset Chloe was.
His mother cleverly managed to direct the conversation away from anything to do with today so that the rest of the evening was peaceful, though, his father tried to divert the conversation back to those ‘damned Larkins’ when he could.
Brook waited until both of his parents had retired to bed before heading out under the cover of darkness. In the distance, an owl hooted and a half-moon revealed itself behind the clouds in intermittent moments. A fresh breeze rustled the few trees around the house but it was not cold.
They had not discussed another meeting and he doubted Chloe had found time to leave him a message but this could not wait. He needed to speak with her urgently. He marched into the stables, managing not to disturb the groomsmen who slept in the accommodations above the small stables and saddled his horse.
Riding partway to her house, he left his horse tethered on the outskirts of the gardens to avoid detection by any servants still awake. “Be a good girl,” he told her, giving her a pat.
Chloe’s house was a square Tudor building. Generous in size with presumably an open courtyard in the c
enter and the front door frames by a large stone entrance way. The gardens still maintained the organized look the Tudors favored, with straight lines of bushes segmenting the flower beds.
Lamplight shone in several of the windows on the upper story but the rest of the house was dark. He knew which bedroom Chloe’s was because she had mentioned views over the gardens. At least he hoped he was right or else he could cause even more trouble.
He launched a small stone at the window, satisfied when it made a loud ping noise. He waited a few moments and tried again. She could be asleep, he supposed, but he had his doubts after today’s events. He tried a third time and saw the curtains part and Chloe press her face against the glass. He gave her a wave and she eased open the window. “What are you doing here?” she hissed. “It is too dangerous. Go away.” She fluttered a hand out of the window, shooing him away.
“I’m not going anywhere until you come down here,” he told her.
She hesitated, perhaps deciding whether she could persuade him to leave but apparently she realised she did not have a hope in hell of sending him away. She closed the window and he waited, tapping his foot until the sound of padded footsteps and a shadowy outline made him smile.
“You should not be here,” she whispered.
He took her hand, ignoring her words and began to lead her away from the house.
“Wait, where are we going? What are we doing?” She tugged on his hand.
“You said I should not be here.”
“Yes, you. I should be here. In fact, I should be in bed.”
“We need to talk about today.” He glanced back at her, noting that she was still in her nightwear, which was wrapped in an awkwardly tied gown. Even though the night was dark, the white fabric revealed her outline like a ghost haunting the night. It made his palms itch when he considered that there was probably very little between her skin and the night air. But, for now, he needed to keep his thoughts away from such matters. They would not help his cause at all.
Married to the Rake (The Wallflower Brides Book 1) Page 9