Читать книгу Snowbound Surrender - Louise Allen, Christine Merrill - Страница 15

Once all the guests had arrived, the crowd adjourned to the parlour, where a buffet of sweets awaited to refresh them after their journeys. Lucy had arranged for an enormous silver bowl to be filled with Regent’s punch and set trays of mulled wine and eggnog beside it. Next to those were heaps of mince pies, thickly sliced cakes and enough nuts and oranges to satisfy even the greediest child.

She watched the happy people around her with numb satisfaction, wishing that she could enjoy it even a tenth as much as they did. She pretended to smile in response to William Thoroughgood’s prattling, nodding in time to it without paying much attention. But though she should be ignoring him, her eyes followed Jack Gascoyne around the room, observing as he made polite conversation with the other guests.

She could still feel the flush of anger in her face from Jack’s greetings for her, though she had assured William that her colouring was caused by the heat of the fire. She was a sister now, was she? He had chosen to forget the best night of her life and act as if she was simply a childhood friend. She had held that night in her heart and mind like a diamond to be treasured. It had helped her get through the lonely years he’d been gone and kept the hope alive that he might still return to her.

But it had meant nothing to him. The diamond had been glass all along.

There was no point in revealing it to him or showing him the hurt he had caused her. She could not announce in front of anyone else what the problem was, since such an indiscretion should never have happened at all. The truth would ruin her.

So she waited. Guests came and went and she greeted them, saw to their needs and had servants show them to their rooms.

The hours passed, the afternoon ended and the room was nearly empty, except for Millicent Forsythe, standing in a corner, looking rather lost as the last group of friends abandoned her to dress for dinner.

Before Fred could claim her again, Lucy went to her and held out her hands. ‘You must be tired, Miss Forsythe. Do not be afraid to treat our home as your own. No matter what happens, you will always be welcome here, just as Jack is.’ She had meant to give a warm greeting to her future sister, but the result had sounded dire, as if she was expecting a disaster.

Now Millicent was staring at her, obviously puzzled, and looking far too miserable for a woman who was weeks away from her wedding. ‘Nothing has happened,’ she said firmly. ‘Nothing at all.’

‘Of course not,’ Lucy responded, feeling like a fool for infecting the girl with her own dark mood. ‘Your room is at the end of the hall on the first floor. My brother is in the entrance hall. I am sure he will help you find your way, should you ask him.’

Millicent gave her a nervous smile. ‘He should not even know the location of my room. We are not yet married.’ Then she gave a single, apprehensive glance in the direction of her fiancé.

Lucy knew from experience that it was possible to get into a surprising amount of trouble without ever leaving the ground floor. ‘I am sure he can guess it,’ Lucy replied. ‘He has lived here his whole life. But if he gets lost, he can knock on doors until he finds your maid.’

‘But if I go, you shall be alone with Major Gascoyne,’ the girl said, blinking. ‘Do you wish me to find someone to chaperon you?’

Lucy gritted her teeth and pressed her palms flat against her bombazine skirt. ‘Chaperons are not necessary. I do not flatter myself to think his mind would turn in that direction over me.’ She looked across the room to where Jack stood, looking out of the window at the snow which was battering the windowpanes. ‘As he said before, apparently, Major Gascoyne is like a brother to me.’ Before Millicent could question her further, she gave the girl a gentle shove in the direction of Fred.

When her brother saw his beloved, his face lit up with a smile brighter than a ballroom chandelier. The sight was all it took to make Miss Forsythe evaporate like hoarfrost, leaving Lucy alone with Jack.

As she looked over at him, the years seemed to drop away, revealing the boy she had fallen in love with. His shoulders were broader, perhaps, his legs muscled from riding and his features had lost their boyish softness. But other than a thin scar on his chin, he was physically unmarked by the war. His eyes were the same clear grey, though more sombre than they used to be, and his chestnut-brown hair was shorter and cut in the style of a man who did not have time to bother with fashion.

‘Let us drop the pretence,’ Jack said, interrupting her thoughts. ‘Miss Forsythe was correct. We should not be alone together.’ He had obviously been eavesdropping.

‘I do not see why not,’ she replied. ‘You have not bothered to speak to me since that hypocritical greeting when you arrived.’

He crossed the room and glanced down the hall to make sure that Fred and Millicent had gone upstairs before wheeling on her with a stern frown. ‘You know perfectly well how risky this is. Have a care for your reputation.’

‘I suppose I should mind my honour, since you never did,’ she said, then spoiled it by pushing past him to close the parlour door, leaving them shut in together. As there had been the last time they were together, there was a kissing bough hanging in the doorway. That year, it had been an elegant arrangement of ivy, mistletoe, apples and ribbons, that she had made with the express purpose of trapping Jack Gascoyne in a kiss.

It had grown less involved with each year he had been gone and she had come to dread the preparation of it, not wanting to think about kissing him or anyone else. This year, despite the fact that her house was full of company, there was but a single red ribbon holding a sprig of mistletoe, the berries of which could be numbered on her fingers.

He turned slowly to face her and waited to see if she would speak again, giving no indication that he had noticed her anger. Then, at last, he said, almost to himself, ‘I should not have come here. But I could not refuse your brother’s invitation without a reason.’

‘Without a reason?’ She resisted the temptation to shriek like the mad old maid her brother was afraid she had become. ‘What happened between us before you went away is reason enough for you to avoid this house.’

‘Some would say it was reason to come back,’ he corrected.

‘If you had returned earlier, perhaps I would believe you,’ she snapped. ‘But to appear after six months in England, only to call me a sister?’

He shrugged. ‘You made no effort to contact me, in all the time I was gone.’

‘Because you dishonoured me,’ she replied.

By the way he started at the words, she could almost believe that he did not realise what he had done. Then his composure returned. ‘You seemed to enjoy it well enough at the time.’

‘Only because you tricked me,’ she said, blushing. ‘All I wanted from you was a kiss.’

And she had got one. But after? It was a lie to blame him for what they had done together. She could not quite remember how what had begun as an innocent kiss under the mistletoe had ended with him sprawled over her on the floor as she clung to him, begging for more. He had sworn that he would never leave her, if only she would give him the most precious of gifts. And she had said yes, without a moment’s hesitation.

‘What happened between us was not intentional, I assure you,’ he said with a wolfish grin. ‘I was as surprised as you by the way it ended.’

‘Which part?’ she asked with a sceptical grimace. ‘When you seduced me? Or when you abandoned me?’

‘Is that what you thought?’ he asked. Now he seemed honestly shocked by her interpretation of events.

‘You took my maidenhead and assured me that no harm would come of it. Then you left and I never saw or heard from you again until this night.’

For a moment, his face had no expression at all. Then his brows knit in honest confusion. ‘Your brother did not explain to you?’

‘He told me that you joined the army,’ she said, her voice breaking with the memory. She had not wanted to believe that he could be so cruel as to do so without as much as a goodbye. But as time had passed with no word from him, she had been forced to admit that it was true. ‘I waited for three weeks, terrified that I might be carrying a child whose father would not claim it.’

Now he looked as if he had been slapped. Had he not given a single thought to the consequences of his departure? Then his hands reached out to comfort her, only to drop as she stepped clear of them. ‘You have nothing to be concerned about,’ she said, though the fact should have been obvious by now. ‘You have no hidden bastards in this country, at least.’ Then she added, ‘That I know of. I have no idea how many other girls you might have left in a similar manner.’

‘I did not mean to leave you,’ he said. ‘I went to your brother as soon as we had parted. After what we had done, I thought a speedy marriage might be necessary.’

‘You told him?’ she said, mortified.

‘I would not be alive if I had. He would not have bothered with a duel. He would have shot me before I could finish my offer. And I would have most heartily deserved it.’

‘You offered for me?’ Now she was the one who was shocked.

He nodded. ‘I gave him no indication of what had happened. I simply told him that I had loved you since we were children and asked for your hand.’

‘And he refused you,’ she said, as suddenly everything became clear. ‘It is so nice to know, after all this time, that you intended to do your duty by me.’

‘It was not duty,’ he insisted. ‘It was...’ Then he stopped as if he could not quite manage to say the word ‘love’ a second time. It was just as well. They both knew it was far too late for such an admission.

‘Your reason for offering does not matter,’ she said brusquely. ‘Fred said nothing of meeting with you.’ But now, at least, she knew the subject of the argument that her brother had just recently admitted to and his desire to do right by Jack if the war had damaged his spirit.

‘He told me that you were too young and I was too irresponsible to take care of you,’ Jack replied.

‘I’d have run away with you, had you asked,’ she reminded him. An elopement would have proved her brother right. As time had passed, she had realised that neither of them had been ready for marriage. It was probably for the best he had left her. But that did not change how she’d felt, at the time.

‘Fred said I was too wild,’ he muttered, like the sullen boy he had been. ‘He did not trust me with you.’

‘It was a bit late for him to come to such a conclusion,’ she said with a laugh. ‘We had known each other all our lives and he had made no effort to keep me safe from you. In fact, he always thought your outrageous behaviour to be excellent fun.’

‘Not always,’ Jack said. ‘Apparently, such things are not nearly so amusing in a brother-in-law as they are in a friend.’ He scuffed the toe of his boot on the rug and she saw the other side of him, the handsome, young imp who had stolen her heart. Without meaning to, she put her hand out to touch his sleeve, then dropped it away again as she remembered the risk of getting too close to him.

‘But why did you leave me without explanation?’ she whispered.

‘You did not know that, either?’ He looked up at her sharply, surprised.

She shook her head.

‘I left him a letter to give to you. When I did not get an answer...’ His voice fell away just as her hand had earlier.

‘What did you say?’

‘That, if we did not marry, I could no longer trust myself in your presence.’ He thought for a moment. ‘Perhaps not the right words to leave in a missive that was probably read the moment I left the room. But I made no mention of what had gone before.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I made it very clear that I did not trust myself with you outside of the sanctity of marriage and that I meant to return, when you were older, and I had made my fortune, or at least after I could assure Fred that I had settled sufficiently to be worthy of you.’

She let out the breath she had been holding in a slow sigh.

‘I asked you to write to me, if you needed me,’ he said with a significant raise of an eyebrow. ‘And even if you did not, I begged you to tell me that you were willing to wait for me.’

‘I was angry that you’d left without word,’ she said.

‘So, of course, you did not write,’ he said with understanding, but no emotion at all.

‘But I did wait,’ she reminded him.

‘And I did not,’ he said gruffly. ‘I gave up hoping.’ The look he was giving her now said that the past was the past and that anything between them was finished.

But it didn’t have to be. If he wanted her, she was still free, as was he. For the first time in ages, hope fluttered in her breast and she imagined a future quite different from the orderly marriage and life of service that awaited her as a vicar’s wife.

It might hurt William’s pride, should she decide against him. But his wooing thus far had smacked of expediency, not ardour. His heart would be undamaged if she called an end to their courting. And hers would breathe a sigh of relief.

But the man in front of her seemed to have nothing more to say on the subject of love, either. Apparently, she would have to prod him to life. ‘These stories of the past are all very enlightening,’ she said. ‘But it is the present we must contend with. And the future,’ she added with significance.

‘Indeed,’ he agreed. ‘Your brother says you are near to making a match with Mr Thoroughgood.’

‘So it would appear,’ she agreed.

‘I spoke with him briefly. He is a most serious and learned fellow...’

‘I will relay your compliments to him,’ she said, praying that there was more to the sentence.

‘But I do not think he is right for you.’

She knew that as well. But she had waited for Jack until her options were limited, hoping for love. When Waterloo had come and gone with no sign of his homecoming, she had settled.

But now he was home. She smiled, realising that they still stood in the doorway, under the mistletoe. ‘Do you have someone in mind that would suit me better?’

Perhaps she was being too obvious in her questions. But she wanted some hint that he had come to make things right between them and he was playing far too coy.

She was not expecting the answer she received. ‘I know no one who will suit. But I know you well enough to think that you need a man with spirit and a sense of humour, and someone who will appreciate those qualities in you. Thoroughgood is wrong on all counts.’

‘What?’ It was all she could manage, for the answer he had given rendered her near to incoherence.

He gave her a firm and somewhat puzzled smile, as if he felt he had been perfectly clear before and should not have to repeat himself. ‘I would not offer advice on the matter, if your choice seemed more appropriate. But I have known you so long that I cannot help but be concerned for your future happiness. I fear you would make an abominable vicar’s wife and would make yourself miserable by trying.’

She shook her head, amazed. ‘You return after all this time and have nothing more to say than that?’

‘If you were expecting something more—’ his brow furrowed ‘—then I must remind you that it has been five years,’ he said. ‘Things have changed.’

‘“Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds.”’ She touched her cheek, wondering if she was really so different from the girl he had once wanted. ‘If they are so easily forgotten, then the feelings you claimed for me were not as deep as you claimed.’ It made her feel all the bigger fool for succumbing to him then.

‘It is not you,’ he said, hurriedly. ‘You are every bit as lovely as you were on the day I left and just as hard to resist. It is I who have changed.’

‘Of course you have,’ she laughed. ‘You are a war hero now. If I am to believe what I have heard, you are quite well off and no longer dependent on an allowance from your brother to cover your bills.’

‘I have changed for the worse,’ he argued. ‘Ignore the nonsense about my being an officer and a gentleman. One cannot be a good soldier and remain untouched by the brutality of the profession.’ He turned away again, staring into the fire, and his hand gripped the mantel until his fingers went white.

‘But that is over. You are home now,’ she reminded him.

He smiled sadly. ‘Would that a change of location was all it took to return to the man I was.’

‘Time will help,’ she said.

He shook his head. ‘It will not change what I have already done. And the man who could behave in such a way is not a man worthy of your affection. Now, if you will excuse me, I must wash for dinner.’ And he left the room, walking beneath the kissing bow without even looking up.