Connie (The Daughters of Allamont Hall Book 3) (23 page)

“Go away? I was born and raised here. Where am I supposed to go?”

“Anywhere you like, except Brinchester, London or anywhere near my estate at Drummoor. And take your mother and sister with you. Any more of you at home?”

“Another sister.” He chewed his lip, anger giving way to calculation. “If I go, I need not pay you what I owe? I have your word on that?”

“You do.” Dev suppressed his annoyance at the intimation that he might not be trustworthy. “I shall keep your notes, of course, as a guarantee of your compliance, and if ever you turn up where you are not wanted, I shall destroy you, you have my word on
that
, too.”

“My mother has family in Liverpool,” Barnett said.

“Liverpool! Perfect,” Dev said. “You will find you can cut quite a dash in Liverpool, should you care to, and no one will know anything of your origins there. A fresh start for you. Are we agreed?”

He held out his hand, and after only the slightest hesitation, Barnett took it. Humphrey opened the door for him, and Barnett, without looking back, walked through it.

“You let him off lightly,” Reggie said. “I should have left him a bruise or two as a reminder.”

“And you would have him swearing vengeance on you,” Dev said. “So long as we have seen the last of him, I shall be content. And Miss Allamont need never be plagued by him again.”

“She must be quite a lady, to inspire you to such trouble on her behalf,” Humphrey said.

Dev smiled. “Indeed she is. Delightful.”

“She is the sweetest little creature imaginable,” Reggie said.

“Very rum, though, to have the two of you chasing after her,” Humphrey said. “I have a mind to meet the lady for myself, and cut both of you out.”

“That would be very bad form,” Dev said.

“Yes, you stay well away from her,” Reggie said. “Dev is keeping out of my way, and it would be too bad if
you
start interfering.”

Humphrey raised his hands in mock surrender. “All right, all right. But I do not understand why she would want
you,
Reggie, when she could have Dev. He is far better looking than you,
and
he has the title, you know. Much better deal for any young lady.”

“Who knows?” Reggie said, laughing. “
I
thought she liked Dev better, too, but she turned him down.”

“She turned him down?” Humphrey said, startled.

“She did. He botched it, she turned him down and that allowed me to try my luck. I must say, Connie has been very encouraging to me. Quite waiting for me to speak, I fancy. Now that all this business is done with, I might as well go and tie things up with her.”

“And Dev is letting you do it?” Humphrey looked from one to the other. “Not my business, of course, but I wonder you do not
both
go to her, and let her choose, you know. Because it may be that she regrets throwing Dev over, and would like a second chance. Her happiness is paramount, surely.”

“You see, this is exactly what I was afraid of,” Reggie said hotly. “Humph, you must not interfere, there is a good fellow. Just keep out of it.”

“Brothers cannot fight, and certainly not over a lady,” Dev said firmly. “I had my chance, and I have lost Miss Allamont’s good opinion. I wish…” For a moment the words stuck in his throat, but he forced them out. “I wish her every happiness with Reggie. She deserves it.”

“Thank you, Dev! You are too good. Tomorrow will see me the happiest of men.”

24: Sonnets And Flowers

Connie was determined to be cheerful. Any day now, she would be betrothed to Lord Reginald, and this time the engagement would be a real one, with a notice in the Gazette, and wedding clothes, and banns, and all the happiness of marriage and her own establishment and the prospect of children. She should be joyful, smiling through the day and dreaming of her future husband at night, and although Lord Reginald never disturbed her dreams, at least she managed to display a sunny countenance in company.

She was troubled, though, by darker thoughts. Often, her reflections centred on Jess. Connie’s heart ached for her friend, caught in the most difficult of dilemmas. Whenever they met, Jess was uncharacteristically subdued, all her merriment dissipated by one faithless man who had stolen her heart and then treated her abominably.

Connie was haunted, too, by Jess’s opinion of the Marquess.
‘I truly believe he loved you sincerely. He talked of you all the time…’
So she had said. If only Connie had ever heard him speak of it! If only he had approached her with respect and talked of love when he made his addresses. In that one conversation — no more than ten minutes of her life — Connie had thrown away her best, perhaps her only, chance of happiness. Regret was such a corrosive force, eating her from the inside out, and making her doubt her own mind.

Then there was Dulcie. It had shocked Connie beyond measure to discover that Dulcie had told the Marquess all her childish little schemes. She had never intended to trap him into marriage, only to put him in a romantic frame of mind so that perhaps he might fall in love with her. Even that innocent endeavour had given way when she had learned of his betrothal to Jess. There was no harm in any of it, and surely Dulcie had wanted her to succeed as much as anyone? Was Dulcie not her best friend and strongest ally, the one person who could always be relied upon?

Yet when she had remonstrated with her, Dulcie had only laughed a little shame-facedly. “Well, of course I wanted him to marry you, silly! I thought if he knew what you were about, he would take notice of you and that might start him on the way to love, do you see?”

“But then he naturally supposed that I was quite in love with him and made no effort to court me. He was so unromantic and cold and overbearing, Dulcie, and then I had to turn him down, and it is all your fault!”

“I was only trying to help,” Dulcie said huffily. “I am sure he would never have paid you the least attention if I had not. Besides, I never for a moment expected that he
would
offer for you. Who could have imagined such a thing? But I meant it for the best, sister.”

“You always do,” Connie said sadly. But this time she was not sure she could forgive Dulcie for her interference. It was painful to consider that her dearest friend had been instrumental in ruining her hopes of marrying the Marquess, and that she had done so deliberately was the cruelest discovery. Although the two sisters still shared a bedroom, all confidence was at an end between them.

And so Connie waited for Lord Reginald to pay his addresses. Each day that failed to produce such an outcome brought a brief burst of relief, only to be succeeded the following morning by the familiar knot in her stomach which ought to be happy anticipation, yet felt suspiciously like dread.

Eventually, he came. There were no flowers this time, as if signalling that the courtship was now moving into the next, less frivolous, phase. It did not surprise Connie when he suggested a walk in the garden, nor when he dallied to admire a flower so that they were left behind by her sisters.

“The others are going down to the lake, but I know that path well,” he said. “Shall we go this way instead? I should like to explore a different part of the grounds.”

Meekly she went, head bowed to her fate, and it was not long before he began his speech. He spoke well, of admiration and love, of respect and honour, of how his life would be incomplete without her. He was articulate and persuasive, saying all that was proper. Still she kept her head lowered.

“Connie?” he said gently. “Will you not look at me? I would see your lovely face.”

When she could not, or perhaps would not, for she was not sure herself which it was, he lifted her chin with his hand. Even then, she averted her eyes.

“Ah,” he said, and there was disappointment in his tone. “This is not how it should be.”

“My lord?” she said, and for the first time she looked directly at him.

His expression was rueful. “You are not excited, Connie. This is not what you want.”

She was too confused to answer him.

“There is an arbour in the wall over there,” he said. “Let us sit.”

Dutifully, she let him lead her to the bench. She sat and he sat beside her, gazing at her face, still holding her hand. Again, her eyes dropped.

“You must forgive me,” he began. “I have quite mistaken you. I thought you were waiting, hoping for my declaration. I flattered myself that you were in love with me. But now I see the situation very clearly.”

Connie’s head was spinning at this sudden change, but she grasped at a possible meaning. “Are you withdrawing your offer, my lord?”

“Not at all,” he said. “If you truly wish it, I will marry you gladly, and cherish you for ever. But I do not want you to marry me from duty, Connie. That would be a dreadful thing.”

“But I must marry!” she burst out. “I have three younger sisters depending on it.”

“That is the worst reason in the world!” he cried. “What sort of life would that be, to have you always moping about with your head down like this. I want you to love me, Connie. I want you to look at me with fire in your eyes, the way you look at—” He stopped himself with a click of the tongue.

She said nothing.

He released her hand abruptly. “I can hardly credit this, but I believe that Humphrey, of all people, had it right.”

“Humphrey? Your brother?” She put a hand to her forehead, bemused. “I cannot understand you, my lord. What does your brother have to do with this?”

“Everything!” he said, with a bark of laughter. “And perhaps nothing. Lord, but this is humiliating. I thought I had one over on Dev for once, but now I find he has had the better of me all along.” Another burst of laughter.

Connie jumped to her feet, anger rising inside her. “If it were not so early in the day, my lord, I might suspect you of being in your cups,” she said coldly. “Did you offer for me to spite the Marquess?”

“Nothing of the sort,” he said, rising to stand beside her, but making no effort to take her hand again. “My feelings, my wishes are genuine, although putting Dev’s nose out of joint added a little spice, I will not deny. However, Humphrey was right and your wishes are what is important. I must not,
cannot
be so selfish as to conceal the truth from you. Miss Allamont, you should know that Dev most sincerely loves you, and would do anything to win you back. He has already taken steps to remove Jack Barnett from the county, only so that you might not be troubled by him. Nothing but his loyalty towards me prevents him from pressing his suit. We
both
love you, Miss Allamont, and… and you may choose between us, if you will.”

She was too astonished to speak. He made some civil farewells, saying something about leaving her to think over all that he had said. Then he bowed and went away to send for his horse. She was very near the main drive, and if she stayed where she was she could not help but see him ride past, and that she could not bear. There was a gate a little further along the wall, so she made her way there and escaped into the cool stillness of the woods, the canopy green over her head. Finding a side path, she half ran along it to be sure of undisturbed solitude. A fallen tree provided a seat, and for a few minutes she gave way to tears of distress and hope and joy, all mingled together.

He still loved her! Out of all the confusions of Lord Reginald’s words, that was the message that echoed in her head. Despite all that had happened, the Marquess loved her and wanted her, and was only kept away by honour towards his brother.

She was too agitated to sit and compose herself, so she walked on, she hardly knew where, her tears giving way to exhilaration, so that laughter bubbled up inside her. What an end to her darkest fears! She had resigned herself to a betrothal with Lord Reginald, but now that unhappy prospect was replaced by a far more joyous possibility. The Marquess’s handsome face rose up in her mind, smiling at her in the intimate way he had that made her dizzy.

She had begun to consider how long it might be before she would see him again when a bend in the path revealed the man himself, seated on a stile, his hat in his hands, head low, the very picture of dejection.

Her heart turned over, but she did not hesitate. “Lord Carrbridge?”

~~~~~

The Marquess had left his great-aunt’s house not long after Reggie, too upset to sit around. If he had had a riding horse, he might have burned off his fidgets on a fast ride, but he only had his curricle and that was too slow in the village lanes to calm his restlessness. So he had set off on foot, although he had no idea where he was. And every step of the way, the same thought revolved in his head — is she lost to me yet? Followed rapidly by a second thought — how can I bear it?

Eventually, uncertain of where he was and filled with despair, he had found a convenient stile and cast himself down.

And then, the miracle had happened. There she was, her lovely face so concerned.

He jumped up, his treacherous heart leaping with joy. But then, bewilderment, for where was Reggie? Was she betrothed now? Or had she missed him altogether, and Reggie was even now riding home, his offer unmade?

“Miss Allamont?” Dev said tentatively. He hesitated, but he had to know. “Have you seen Reggie this morning?”

“Indeed I have!” she said with a smile of pure joy on her face.

“Oh,” he said, his spirits dropping instantly. But then why was she here? A flicker of hope entered his breast.

“He very kindly made me an offer.”

“Oh.”

“I did not accept him.” The smile widened even further, if that were possible.

“Oh.” And then, because his brain was flapping about ineffectually, “Oh.”

She laughed. “Does that surprise you?”

“It does. I thought…” He began to get his disjointed thoughts into some semblance of order. “Are you going into the village, Miss Allamont?”

“The village?” She gazed about her, as if surprised to find herself where she was, so close to the edge of the woods. “I had no notion I had walked so far. I must turn back.”

“Then may I escort you home?”

She accepted with alacrity, taking his arm. They talked of nothing very much at first, but he felt such a jumble of conflicting emotions that it was quite a miracle that he was able to talk at all.

Then, a flash of white caught his eye. “Flowers! Wild flowers! Should you like some, Miss Allamont? For I know how you love such things.”

When she assented, he dashed off into the undergrowth. “Oh, pray mind your trousers!” she called. “They will be so torn.”

“I do not regard it, if the flowers please you,” he said gallantly. “Here — they are very pretty, I think.”

She smiled and blushed and agreed that they were indeed very pretty.She looked up at him with such a sweet smile on her face that he was quite overcome. His own words failing him, he said the first thing that came into his head.

“
’Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate’”

“Oh!” she breathed. “Are you reciting
poetry
to me, my lord?”

“I believe I am,” he said. “You said you like such things, you know, so I learned a poem for you. I thought it might please you. Do you like it?”

“I do! Pray continue.”

“Oh. Well, I have lost my place now, so I will have to start again from the beginning. Here I go. ‘
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath… hath…”

“
‘
all too short a date’
,” she said.

“You know it, then?” he said.

“Certainly. It is one that Papa made us all learn. He was very fond of Shakespeare’s sonnets. Please go on. The next line is
‘Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, And often is his gold complexion dimm'd’.
”

“
‘…complexion dimm’d. And every fair from fair sometime declines, By chance or… or nature's changing course…something; But thy eternal summer shall not fade, Nor lose… nor lose…”

The words dried up. “Miss Allamont…” he began, although he hardly knew what he was saying.

“My lord?”

“Miss Allamont, you make the words fly out of my head when you look at me in that way. You are adorable, and delightful, and I have been the world’s greatest fool. I treated you shamefully. I can scarcely bear to think about the dreadful things I said to you that day. Can you ever forgive me? And please, please tell me, can you give me any hope, however small, that you might one day look favourably on me?”

“Yes.”