More Than Willing (21 page)

His voice contained more remorse than she’d ever heard from him.

Before she could ask Henry what he meant, he turned to Gray and lifted his gun.

“Henry! Don’t!”

Henry hesitated a moment and his slight pause gave Gray the time he needed to react.

He lunged forward and pushed her with a force that stunned her. She lay motionless for several agonizing seconds, trying to gather her thoughts.

The grunts and groans above her sounded desperate and she struggled to her hands and knees.

A slashing jolt of panic slammed inside her. “Gray!”

She scrambled to her feet and took a frantic step toward him, then stopped. Her interference would only cause him harm.

Terror raged through her as she watched the two men battle each other.

Gray tried to knock the gun from Henry’s hand but Henry had too tight a grip. The gun didn’t come loose, but Gray’s blow knocked Henry off balance.

Gray made use of his advantage and lunged toward Henry. The two struggled more ferociously, and suddenly a muffled pop rent the air.

The ground shifted beneath her. She was living her worst nightmare.

Gray and Henry stood with one arm locked around the other and the gun pressed between their bodies. Neither moved, as if they needed the other’s support to stand upright.

“Gray!”

Her heart thundered against her ears as she waited for some indication as to who’d been shot.

She didn’t know what she’d do if she lost Gray now; how she’d survive without him. She wasn’t sure she could.

In what seemed slow motion, Gray and Henry sank to their knees, their arms still locked around the other, unreadable expressions on their faces. Slowly they separated.

Dark stains colored the front of Gray’s shirt.

A scream rose from deep within her and she clutched her hand over her mouth to stop the terror from filling the air. Tears blurred her eyes and spilled down her cheeks.

“Gray?” she whispered as another stabbing of terror shot through her.

Gray lowered Henry to the ground, then looked up. “I’m all right, Maggie.”

She raced to his side and sank down beside him. She needed to touch him, to connect her flesh with his to make sure he was truly all right.

She placed her hand on his arm as he opened Henry’s jacket and shirt to check the severity of his wound. One glance at the blood that poured from the gaping hole in Henry’s chest told her he didn’t have long to live.

“This wasn’t…how I’d…planned it to happen,” Henry said through his gasps for air. “If only I’d found out who he was…sooner.”

Maggie leaned closer. “It wouldn’t have made any difference, Henry.”

Henry closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them and stared at her with an expression she’d never forget.

“The brewery’s not yours…Margaret. Your father…lost it in a…card game.”

“Not mine?”

“It’s Delaney’s…” Henry gasped. “That’s why he has…to marry…you.”

Maggie opened her mouth to speak but no words came. She darted a frantic look toward Gray and prayed that he’d tell her Henry was lying. But the look on his face confirmed Henry’s words.

She lowered her gaze. Henry’s inert body swam before her. He breathed more labored now as death came to claim him.

“There’s nothing…more I can do…to save you. You’re doomed…to repeat your mother’s…life of…misery.”

Henry gasped a last breath and sightlessly stared into eternity.

His words echoed in her head. A painful weight pressed against her chest until she feared she wouldn’t survive.

She didn’t own the brewery.

Her father had lost it in a card game.

Unless she agreed to marry Gray, she was without the means to support herself.

Her blood roared against her ears. She took a gasp of air and prayed she’d continue to breathe.

Gray was exactly like her father. All along he’d intended to marry her so she could run the brewery while he spent the Seasons in London?

She swiped at an errant tear that dared to slide down her cheek. At least her father had loved her mother. That was more than she could claim. Gray didn’t love her. If he did, he would have told her so before now. But he hadn’t.

Oh, he’d called her Maggie, my love. Like her father had often called her his “pet.” He hadn’t meant anything by it. Just as Gray didn’t mean anything special either. It was a term – Maggie, my love. Maggie, my pet. My useful pet.

She prayed he wouldn’t say he loved her now. If he did, his words would be a lie.

For several long, agonizing moments neither of them spoke. She knew in time they’d have to. But she prayed he wouldn’t speak just now. She wasn’t ready for the mellow silkiness of his voice to wash over her.

Or the reminder of how deeply she loved him and how easily he’d betrayed her.

He didn’t give her as much time as she’d hoped but softly whispered her name.

“Maggie, I—”

His voice pelted her like stinging shards of frozen ice and she lifted her hand to stop his words. She couldn’t hear them yet; couldn’t look at him. He’d always been the most handsome man she’d ever seen and just the sight of him weakened her. She wanted to remember him that way and not through eyes that were clouded with hurt and bitterness…and disappointment.

It took a long while before she could speak. “I only have one question.” She clenched her hands as her heart shattered inside her breast. “If I ask it, will you promise me a truthful answer? Just this once?”

He paused, then said, “Yes, if you’ll allow me to say something after that and promise you’ll listen to me.”

She blinked several times to keep the wetness that filled her eyes from spilling down her cheeks. “If I must.”

“Then ask me your question.”

“Did you ever intend to tell me I no longer owned the brewery?”

He hesitated a moment before he spoke.

“No.” His response caused her breaking heart to splinter into a million pieces.

She rose and on legs that didn’t want to carry her, she forced herself to take that first step away from him.

“Maggie, don’t leave me.”

She kept walking.

“You said you’d allow me to say something,” he said from close behind her.

She shook her head and kept walking.

“I love you, Maggie!”

“Do you?”

And she walked away from him.

Maggie sat against the wall of the Marchioness of Cavanaugh’s ballroom with her practiced smile firmly in place and a faux look of contentment on her face. This was the pose she’d perfected during the last month, and to anyone watching her she seemed the happiest of women.

She wondered how long it would be before her heart no longer felt as if it were breaking.

She didn’t know what hurt worse, knowing after all the warnings she’d issued herself, she’d made the same mistake as her mother.

Or that the man to whom she’d given her heart could have deceived her so.

Or that it wasn’t until he realized that she was going to leave him that he said the words she’d yearned to hear since she’d given him her body. Only when she walked away from him that last time did he tell her he loved her, as if that magic phrase would bring her back to him.

But she knew his words had been a lie.

If he’d loved her, he wouldn’t have let her risk the money she’d saved to guarantee her sisters’ futures by buying more tied properties. He would have been honest with her when she’d asked why the Earl of Camden’s son had come to work in her brewery. And he would have told her he loved her before it was too late.

How could she have been so foolish?

When would the hurt go away?

Maggie clasped her hands tighter in her lap and stared out onto the dance floor.

“They make a handsome couple, don’t they?” Aunt Hester said with a sigh of satisfaction.

Maggie
remembered to smile as she watched the Earl of Landsdowne twirl Felicity in his arms. The dance was a waltz and her sister and her fiancé executed it beautifully.

More than one marrying-mama had told Maggie how envious they were of Felicity’s perfect match and some even referred to the romance as a whirlwind affair. But there wasn’t a doubt in Maggie’s mind that the two of them were madly in love with each other. The air sparked with emotion every time they were together. And it hadn’t been such a whirlwind. It had been nearly a month already. There was nothing short-lived about that.

Every day had seemed an eternity.

Maggie watched Felicity for another minute, then searched Lady Cavanaugh’s ballroom to find Charlotte. She was quite positive she wouldn’t find her on the dance floor. She seldom danced when she attended any function. But she was never alone either. For nearly as long as Felicity and the Earl of Landsdowne had been an item, Charlotte’s name had been linked to Viscount Markinsdale’s.

Maggie had always prayed Charlotte would find someone who shared her same passions, but she never imagined she would find someone so perfect. Maggie couldn’t have picked a more perfect match if she’d chosen Markinsdale herself.

Charlotte’s friendship with Viscount Markinsdale wasn’t nearly as explosive as Felicity’s, but Maggie was confident that before long Markinsdale would ask for her hand. The other afternoon when he’d come to call, she’d overheard them making a list of all the places in
the world they wanted to see—together.

Once both her sisters were officially engaged the farce she was living would be at an end and she could go…

…where?

Maggie’s breath caught and she pulled her thoughts back to the present. She refused to think of anything but now. Her vow every morning upon rising was to get through the day with the shield around her heart firmly in place. And the smile fixed on her face.

Her prayer every night before she went to bed was that she would fall asleep just one night without dreaming of his arms holding her, and his face looking down on her, and his lips pressed against hers.

Then, at least a hundred times a day, she had to stop to say a frantic prayer for help to make it through just one more minute without her heart breaking.

It had been a month since she’d left him. The brewing season should have come to an end by now. The ale they’d produced before she left should be ready to be shipped out.

Then there’d be a day-long festivity to celebrate the end of a successful brewing season. The brewers’ wives would fix enough food to feed a small army and the brewery would provide an endless supply of ale. Music would play until the wee hours and the workers would dance and sing all night long. Then, when the food and ale was gone, everyone would go home with a smile on their face and a bonus in their pockets. For Maggie, the night was always magical.

She wondered if there’d been a celebration this year. She doubted she’d ever know. Other than some estate papers that needed her attention, she hadn’t had any correspondence with him. But she hadn’t expected to. His goal had been for her to fall in love with him so he’d be free to come back to London to live the life he loved. Once she discovered he already owned the brewery he knew he’d failed. He knew she would never marry him.

Maggie fought the sense of betrayal she experience every time she thought how foolish she’d been. Gray had never loved her. He’d only
wanted her. His intent had been to use her.

How could she not have seen through him?

How could she still love him?

“Are you feeling well?” Aunt Hester asked, touching her arm
lightly.

“Yes, fine. Why?”

“You seem so preoccupied. At times even more so than when you first arrived. Are you sure nothing is wrong?”

“Everything is fine. I was watching Charlotte and Markinsdale and wondering how soon he’d ask to see me.”

The lie worked. It pulled her aunt’s attention to where Charlotte and Markinsdale sat.

Aunt Hester beamed with pride as she patted Maggie’s arm. “Did you ever think both your sisters would find such perfect matches so quickly?”

“I owe their success to Cousin Jonathan for providing them with a Season.”

“Nonsense. You owe their success to your mother for passing down to her daughters both beauty and intelligence.”

Maggie smiled nostalgically, but her smile didn’t stay long.

“Oh, look,” Aunt Hester said, letting her gaze rest on the tall, handsome gentleman walking across the ballroom floor. “It’s the Earl of Camden.”

Maggie started to rise. “I’d prefer to—”

“I’m not going to allow you to run away from him tonight,” her aunt said, pressing her hand against Maggie’s arm to keep her from moving. “I don’t know what happened between you and Grayson but I’m sure his father had nothing to do with it.”

That wasn’t true. Gray’s father had everything to do with it. He was the one who—

Maggie stopped short. No, it was unfair to blame him. Her father was to blame for what had happened. No one else.

Maggie felt a little of the ice fall away from around her heart and waited until the Earl of Camden stopped in front of her. Her heart gave a painful lurch when she looked up into his eyes. For a moment it was as though she was looking into Gray’s eyes.

“Camden, how good to see you,” Aunt Hester said.

The earl took her aunt’s hand and tenderly brought it to his lips. “You become lovelier with every passing day, Hester. How do you do it?”

“It’s easy,” she said, patting the hand that still held hers, “when men like you are so expert at lying.”

They both laughed then turned their attention to her. “Camden, allow me to present my niece, Miss Margaret Bradford. I don’t think you’ve met.”

“No, I’ve been denied the pleasure.”

The Earl of Camden executed a perfect bow that was identical to the one Gray had first given her.

“Miss Bradford. I’ve been hoping to meet you for a long time but we always seem to
miss one another.”

“Lord Camden.”

Maggie remembered to hold out her hand and the earl took it. He didn’t hold it nearly as long as he’d held Aunt Hester’s and Maggie was thankful. Every nerve in her body was tied in knots.

“May I first tell you how lovely you and your sisters are?”

“Thank you. Felicity and Charlotte take after Mother and she was a beautiful woman.”

“I had the pleasure of meeting her once and you’re correct. She was extraordinarily beautiful. You, also, bear a striking resemblance
to her.”

Maggie couldn’t help but smile. Oh, Gray was so like his father.

The Earl of Camden turned his attention to Maggie’s aunt. “Hester, I believe I see Lady Rudman across the room. She mentioned earlier that it had been forever since she’d visited with you and was hoping to see you this evening.”

It took Aunt Hester a moment to realize the earl’s intent, but when she did, she quickly made her excuses and left. Maggie watched her make her way across the room and it was all she could do not to call her back.

“Was that terribly obvious of me?”

“Yes, but not unexpected,” Maggie
replied. “I knew we’d eventually have this conversation.”

“Is the thought so disagreeable?”

“I can’t admit to it being altogether pleasant.”

The earl smiled. “You have your mother’s honesty.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.” The earl motioned to
Aunt Hester’s vacated chair. “Would you mind if I sat?”

“
Please.”

He sat.
“First, let me explain how deeply I regret what happened between your father and me. It was never my intent to take his brewery. I tried to encourage him to stop before his debt became so monumental. But to no avail.”

Maggie didn’t doubt that’s exactly what happened. She knew her father.

“He was so sure his luck would change,” the earl continued. “Unfortunately, it didn’t.”

Camden breathed a heavy sigh and Maggie knew he truly regretted what had happened.

“When the game was over, as a matter of honor, he had no choice but to offer the deed to the brewery to cover what he’d lost. And I, as a matter of honor, had no choice but to accept it.

“I want you to know that I allowed your father an adequate amount of time to bring me the money in exchange for the deed. I hoped he would come. I would have accepted his payment even if he’d been late. But he never came. I had no choice but to keep the deed as payment.”

Maggie swallowed hard. She knew why her father hadn’t returned.

“Thank you for telling me,” she said past the lump in her throat.

“I wish it could have been different. Unfortunately, I was left with no choice.”

Maggie acknowledged his apology with a nod of acceptance but wasn’t able to speak.

“Your aunt tells me you recognized my son when you saw him.” He continued as if he didn’t expect an answer.

“Yes, I’d met him in London a few years ago. But I didn’t realize he held the deed to my brewery until…” She stopped. “…later.”

“Is that why you left so abruptly?”

“There was no need for me to remain. I’m sure you can understand that.”

“Perhaps. Do you consider that you left your brewery in capable hands?”

“The brewery is no longer mine. It hardly matters how capable the hands are that run it.”

“I doubt you mean that any more than your mother would have meant it.”

Maggie felt a stab
of chagrin. “I’m not worried,” she finally admitted. “The brewery is in good hands.”

The Earl of Camden’s brows shot upward and Maggie studied him with an assessing gaze. “Do
you doubt your son’s ability, my lord?”

Camden smiled. “No. I have never been the one to doubt Gray’s ability. I am just pleased that such a knowledgeable person as yourself considers him capable. Is it your opinion
, then, that he is likely to succeed at running the brewery?”

Maggie tilted her head in submission. “First, I thank you for the compliment. When discussing business, few males would consider any female knowledgeable
enough to ask their opinion.”

“You forget. I met your mother. She predicted then that you would outshine even her when it came to business decisions.”

Maggie blinked rapidly to keep the tears from her eyes. The earl graciously covered for her.

“You haven’t, however, answered my question concerning my son.”

“Are you worried that if the brewery doesn’t afford him enough money to live in the lifestyle he’s accustomed to, that his creditors will be back knocking at your door?”

The earl paused. “No, that is no longer a possibility. My son understands that the brewery will from now on, be his
only means of support.”

Maggie couldn’t hide her surprise.

“I take it my son didn’t tell you that I cut off all financial ties to him when I handed over the deed I’d won from your father. I did this for his own good, although I hardly think he’ll ever see it that way.”

“Your last effort to force him to accept responsibility?” she said with more bitterness than she intended.

He laughed. “I hope my son didn’t underestimate you. You would be a worthy ally and a dangerous adversary.”

Maggie’s heart twisted. “No, your son didn’t underestimate me. If anything, it was the other way around.”

“I see,” the earl said after a gaping silence.