The Langley Sisters Collection 2

by Wendy Vella

  Chapter Fifteen

  Ben watched Primrose walk away from him, chin raised, skirts swishing. With a few misplaced words he’d angered and likely hurt her. His intention had never been that; he’d simply wanted to tease her, but it had happened and now he needed to make amends.

  After the ball, he’d gone to bed feeling on edge. The night had been spent dancing, talking, and watching Primrose. She’d danced with Mr. Sanders twice, which while not scandalous was a clear indication that the man showed an interest in her. Did she feel the same way? What of Herbert? Thoughts had swirled around and around inside his head, angering him.

  Ben never lost sleep, and the fact that it was because of a woman unsettled him more. He did not allow women to interfere with his life in any way. He’d made this vow many years ago.

  He’d decided on a walk in the cool night air to clear his head, and it had been working until Primrose landed on him.

  He found himself walking in the direction she’d taken instead of doing what he should have and turning around. She was standing beside a bed of flowers, staring down at them.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Go to bed, Mr. Hetherington. You can never walk in my shoes, as I cannot walk in yours. There is little point in us continuing to converse, as neither of us can speak without annoying the other. In fact, I’m calling a halt to this silly idea of yours.”

  “Again?”

  “It’s for the best.”

  “I understand the plight of some women is vastly different from mine, Primrose. I am not completely oblivious to such things.”

  She sighed, which he couldn’t interpret, but didn’t speak.

  “And I am sorry you believe your family see you as a burden.”

  The plants at their feet were just shadowy figures, their fragrance subtle in the cool night air.

  “I did not say that.”

  But she’d implied it, and it hurt her deeply that they didn’t want her. Ben wondered how a family could treat one of its members that way.

  His mother had seen him and Alex as a burden.

  “I truly am sorry.”

  “Please just go away and let me view the night garden alone.”

  “I don’t want to leave you out here alone. Primrose, can we not be friends?” He didn’t want to add that he’d had several people comment on his closeness to her already, and that his plan seemed to be working even if she didn’t want it to.

  “No.”

  She walked on down the row, and through the opening at the end which he hadn’t seen until that moment; an arch in the wall. Ben followed and found himself in a very different garden.

  Dark, and to his eyes, overgrown. There were large plants everywhere. Their shadows were quite sinister at night.

  “Primrose?” He couldn’t see her, but heard her sigh.

  “Why are you following me?”

  “I’m not entirely sure but think it could be that I’m scared of the dark.”

  Her laugh was quickly muffled. “I think it best if you don’t call me Primrose.” It was the clipped tone she used sometimes when she wasn’t impressed. Strange how he already knew she had different tones.

  “What would you prefer? Medusa, perhaps?”

  “Extremely amusing, and if I had a head full of snakes, I’d certainly set them upon you and have you gaze upon me so I could turn you to stone.”

  “Ah, but then all those women you say admire me would be distraught.”

  “Your mother clearly did not discipline you enough as a child, Mr. Hetherington. In fact, I would go so far as to say you were spoiled atrociously.”

  “My mother abandoned us, actually. My eldest brother was correct in that it was he who disciplined and actually raised Alex and me.”

  Primrose fell silent.

  “Where are you?”

  “Did she really abandon you?”

  “Yes. Tell me where you are?”

  “Look right.”

  Squinting into the darkness, he found her crouched under a large plant.

  “I believe there is a special place in hell for parents such as yours, Mr. Hetherington.”

  “Very likely.” Ben wasn’t sure why her words made his chest feel warm, but they did. “But as she’s not dead yet, we shall have to wait to send her there.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?

  “Saying what I did. I did not mean to hurt you.” Her words were mumbled.

  Ben dropped down beside her.

  “I’m not hurt, Primrose,” he lied. In fact, his mother leaving him had left a dark stain on his soul, but not even Alex knew that.

  He’d never told his brother how he’d gone to his mother’s room, the only woman he’d ever loved, the day she’d told them she was leaving. She’d opened the door to his knock, and he’d thrown himself at her, wrapping both arms around her waist. Her French scent had wrapped around him, and he’d held her tight, sobbing. He’d told her he loved her and didn’t want her to go. She’d wrenched him off her and laughed in his face.

  “There is no such thing as love, you silly little boy, and the sooner you learn that the better it will be.” She’d pushed him out of her room, then slammed the door in his face.

  He’d learned, all right. Learned to not ever let a woman get close enough to hurt him again.

  “We got the better end of the deal with Finn raising us,” Ben said calmly.

  Thoughts of his mother no longer hurt him, but the memory of that day… now that, he held close. He made himself remember the pain so he would never make the mistake of giving his heart to a woman again.

  “He was hard but fair, and he loved us.”

  She sniffed.

  “Why are you weeping?”

  “I’m not.”

  “That was a sniff.”

  “I have allergies.”

  “They came on quickly.”

  “I do not like to think of two small boys being upset and watching their mother leave them! Must you continually challenge me?”

  He touched her cheek, just one finger that he ran down the soft, silky skin, and all the fight drained out of her.

  “We didn’t watch her. At the time we had my father’s dueling pistols and were attempting to use them on the household furniture, for target practice.” Which was the truth. Ben had wept in a dark cupboard after his mother had cast him aside. When he was done, he’d washed his face and vowed never to shed another tear over a woman.

  Her laugh was more a gruff little bark.

  “We were heathens, and it took my brother’s arrival and the subsequent harsh words and discipline to straighten us out. Lord knows where we would be now if Finn hadn’t arrived.”

  She looked up at him, and as his eyes had adjusted to the darkness around them, he could see her. Lord, she was sweet. She looked away first, and back down at the plant.

  “Can I ask you a question, Primrose?”

  She nodded.

  “Why do you take risks? All that plunging into the water, and then climbing out onto the window ledge. Why do you do it?”

  He knew she was thinking about how to answer him.

  “I am alone a great deal, and rarely have anyone care what I do or say. It may seem as if I am reckless, but in fact it is just that I do as I wish most of the time without anyone there to tell me otherwise. As to why I’ve jumped into the water twice beside the incident at the pond,” she shrugged. “I like to help people.”

  Her words had been even, no emotion clouding them. Ben thought them incredibly sad. Why did no one care about what this lovely woman did or said? Why did she feel the need to constantly help others?

  “I am actually quite cautious, and I would never do something that would cause me harm.”

  He snorted but said nothing further.

  “Is that some special night garden plant?”

  She made a hmm sound. “This is an Evening Primrose.”

  He let her talk, explain what it was and its origins, and when his thighs started to
cramp, he rose to his feet, taking her with him.

  “I find it hard to believe you are not close with your family, considering your passion for flora and fauna.”

  “I have no wish to travel to wild climates to find rare species as they do, so we no longer have a common ground.” Her words sounded indifferent, but Ben knew she was anything but.

  “Family shouldn’t need a common ground.”

  “There is much they still wish to explore; it is not their fault that occupies their time.”

  He let the subject drop, as it was clearly uncomfortable for her.

  “So you like the more common species of plant, then?”

  “I like a flower or plant for its beauty or uses,” she clarified in that prim little voice she used that had his fingers itching to grab her and… do what? Kiss her? Shake her?

  “And now we must leave.”

  “But I am not finished,” she protested… loudly.

  “And yet you have been out here long enough, and as you have no wish for Lady Jane to find you missing, I think it is time for bed.”

  She harrumphed, but allowed him to lead her from the garden.

  “Mr. Hetherington?”

  He’d had, by his calculations, five minutes of peace before she started talking again.

  “Miss Ainsley.”

  “I will ask one last time that tomorrow we put distance between us, as I have decided this is for the best.”

  “I shall see how I feel when I rise.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means I shall see what mood I rise in; whether I wish to speak with you or not.”

  “But why?”

  “I do not want to ignore you, Primrose. I want us to be friends.”

  She turned to face him, her eyes bright under the moonlit sky. He felt it again, as he had every time he had contact with this woman. That little uncomfortable jolt of awareness. Ben knew it would pass, he’d experienced it before… perhaps not such a severe case, but he put that down to the complexities of the woman before him and the kiss they’d shared.

  “Why?”

  “I think you need more friends.”

  Her hands went to her trim hips.

  “We cannot be friends, they would see it as more.” She nodded toward the huge house looming before them.

  “You are also one of the more interesting women at this house party.”

  “That is hardly fair. Do you personally know each lady at this party whom you so blithely label as uninteresting? Know their circumstances or what is behind their behavior?”

  “Ah—”

  “I didn’t think so,” she scoffed, further annoying him. Ben didn’t like people scoffing at him, mainly because his brothers did so constantly.

  “If I may—”

  “Perhaps if you took the time to speak with them, and not assume a preconceived notion they are after your vast fortune and connections through marriage, you may see their true characters, Mr. Hetherington.”

  He could lean closer and put his hand over her mouth, and would have it firmly in place before she was aware he’d moved.

  “Your arrogance is quite something, as is your overinflated opinion of your worth, sir.”

  Ben took one large step, which brought him close enough that the toes of his boots brushed hers. He then leaned in and kissed her again.

  Shock had her mouth dropping open, which was perfect as far as he was concerned, because he could take the kiss deeper. Lifting a hand, he held her head at just the right angle.

  Slipping the other around her back, he eased her closer to his body. Those lush curves felt wonderful pressed to his chest. Even through their layers of clothing, he could feel this woman, and his body reacted as it had earlier.

  “Oh dear,” she whispered as he eased back slightly to take a breath. “That should not have happened again.”

  “And yet it did.” Ben kissed her again because he had to.

  “I-I—we must s-stop.”

  She lifted her head, and her expression did not dispel the lust rampaging through him. Her eyes looked up at him with longing. A simple kiss, and he was hotter than Hades.

  “Primrose,” he said softly.

  She pulled out of his arms and stumbled back a few paces, shaking her head.

  “No.” The hand she lifted was small and pale. “That was… it was f-folly, just as it was the last time.”

  Her stutter told him she was affected too.

  “It didn’t feel like folly.” Ben believed in honesty. “It felt very nice… again.”

  “Yes, it was.”

  Her reply made him smile. Only Primrose would tell the truth in such a moment.

  “But we should not have done it.”

  “Primrose, look at me.” He lifted her chin so their eyes met. He could lose himself in her, he realized, and the thought was like someone dousing him in cold water.

  What the hell was he doing? He’d just reminded himself why he didn’t have feelings for women, and here he was… hell!

  “I need to leave because there will never be anything between us, because we are not suited. We are not suited, and you know that as well as I. I am unsure what that was about… the kisses.” She waved her hand at him. “I can guess it was merely curiosity, or perhaps that is something men do…, however, it is not—”

  “I beg your pardon?” Ben felt his calmness flee. “Are you suggesting I kiss innocent woman in a willy-nilly fashion?”

  “Yes, I am. And now I am leaving, before this discussion gets out of hand.”

  “It’s already out of hand!” he roared as she turned, picked up her skirts, and ran away from him.

  Ben followed, but she was surprisingly fleet-footed and had a lead on him in seconds.

  “Damn it, woman, will you wait!”

  She didn’t, of course, as he’d known she wouldn’t. He gave up and let her go. Surely no harm could come to her in the short distance between here and the front door. He arrived just as she slipped inside.

  “God’s blood.” He followed slowly. “What is wrong with me?”

  He was behaving differently, and it was all because of her. Somehow, she’d broken through the protective shield he’d put around himself to keep from being hurt. It was a terrifying thought.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Why are you still sleeping?”

  Ben swam up through the depths of sleep.

  “I have never known you to sleep this late. Are you ill?”

  Forcing his eyes open, he found Alex at the foot of his bed, looking immaculate in a waistcoat of burnt orange and cream.

  “Sod off.” He lobbed a pillow at him.

  “There is a carnival in the next village over from Twoaks. Apparently, they have excellent jugglers and acrobats. We are going, but we must eat first. Now get up.”

  “Twoaks? Have you become a local?”

  “Our brother is now a local, and thus by association so are we.”

  “Thus,” Ben mimicked. “Haven’t you a wife now to annoy?”

  “Heggley, draw his bath and fetch his clothes, if you please. The puce waistcoat with the silver lining will do.”

  Ben, who had closed his eyes hoping it was all a bad dream, opened them again in time to see the besotted look on his valet’s face. He loved Alex. Worshipped him, even. He also never questioned a word Alex said.

  “You are both making me ill, leave at once.”

  “Make that water extremely hot, Heggley, so we can rid him of his foul humor. Although, now that I think about it, cold may be better.”

  “Will you just leave!” Ben hurled a pillow down the bed. Alex caught it, annoyingly.

  “You have twenty minutes.”

  He was ready in nineteen; however, only because he wished it so.

  Wandering out onto the terraced area where a table laden with food was set up for the guests this morning, he did a quick survey of those assembled. His relief was acute when he noted Primrose was not there.

  In the sobering mo
rning light he had come to the realization that she could be a serious detriment to his long-held rule. He would never give a woman power over him. She intrigued him by no other means than being different, and now he knew what he had to do. Ignore her.

  She’d been right, what he’d proposed was foolish, and the end result would likely not have been pleasant for either of them. Ben had stopped thinking clearly, and he blamed her for that also.

  “Ahhh, Ben. How wonderful of you to join us.”

  Ignoring Alex, he greeted the other guests seated at his table. One was Miss Penelope Haversham, who had made her interest in him no secret.

  “Miss Haversham, how lovely you look this morning.”

  “Oh thank you, Mr. Hetherington!” She smiled, and it did absolutely nothing for him. No flicker of interest. Perfect.

  He took the seat next to her.

  “Can you believe some of the guests have gone to the carnival already? Early risers.” She shuddered. “It seems both Miss Ainsley and Miss Fullerton Smythe are among them.” The look she shot Ben told him that people had started to notice his interest in Primrose.

  “As my brothers will attest, I cannot abide rising early,” Ben lied. Usually he had been the first up in the household.

  “Oh, neither can I.” She gave him another smile.

  He knew Alex was staring at him, but he ignored him and rose to fill his plate with food. This was the right course. Primrose had been right; nothing but trouble could come of them pretending an interest in each other. Just as it would if he gave in to the feelings she created inside him. It was a fleeting fancy, as they all were. Distance would put an end to his intrigue, he was sure of it.

  He ate, talked about nothing of interest, and then they all assembled for the journey to the next village.

  “So what was that at the table?” Alex moved up beside him.

  “What was what?”

  “The flirting with Miss Haversham?”

  “It was flirting, Alex.”

  “I understand that, Ben, but I had thought you and—”

  “If the next words out of your mouth are Miss Ainsley, then don’t speak them. I have no feelings for that woman.”

  He felt his brother’s eyes on him, but he thankfully said nothing further. In case he changed his mind, Ben nudged his horse into a gallop, leaving the other guests behind. Alex kept pace with him.