Read NFH 04 Truce (Historic) Online

Authors: R.L. Mathewson

NFH 04 Truce (Historic) (6 page)

It was really too bad he hadn’t thought to bring a book or something to eat. He’d only eaten an hour ago and he was already starving. It was nothing new. He was always hungry. It was something that his family had never understood, but thankfully they’d stopped teasing him about it years ago. Four hours in the orangery with nothing to do or eat was not his idea of fun, but then again, neither was attending a ball.

Several lit oil lamps made it possible for him to at least see clearly enough. That was another reason lovers avoided this place, it was too bright. There would be nowhere for them to hide if they were interrupted.

A soft noise caught his attention. Curious, he slowly moved past several orange trees and froze on the spot at the sight that greeted him. A woman with beautiful brown hair that had to be made from the finest silk the way it reflected the light from the lanterns, sat on a padded bench, softly laughing as she read from a small book.

Her laughter was like a balm to his soul, instantly relaxing him even as his heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t until she released a small sigh as she turned a page in her book that he realized that he’d moved closer to her. He had no business intruding. This woman obviously came here to be alone. Reluctantly, he took a step back. In his rush to escape unnoticed, he knocked over a bucket and disturbed the peace of the quiet orangery.

“Who’s there?” the young woman demanded as she placed her book down on the bench beside her and stood.

Robert’s breath caught in his throat at the first real view of her face. She was excruciatingly beautiful with pale baby blue eyes. Easily the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on and he wanted her. He gave his head a slight shake. He didn’t even know this woman. What in the hell was wrong with him?

-
-
-

“I can see you, so you might as well come out,” Elizabeth said, placing her small book on the cushion beside her.

She watched as a handsome man with vivid green eyes stepped forward. His black hair was cut short and styled differently than what was popular, but it looked good on him. His skin was tanned like hers. It was one of the many things that her mother complained about, but she loved the outdoors too much to care. She craved the warmth of the sun on her skin too much to be bothered with the fact that it darkened her skin and made it unattractive.

“I’m sorry, my Lady. I didn’t mean to bother you. I’ll leave,” he said in a deep voice that she found soothing as he bowed slightly before taking a step back to do just that.

“No, please. You don’t have to leave. I would be heartless if I sent you back into the cold night if you wished for a quiet escape. I believe this orangery is large enough for both of us to seek a quiet refuge,” she said with a smile, hating the idea of turning anyone out into the cold and forcing him to return back to a ball that she hadn’t been able to escape fast enough.

-
-
-

“How do you know that I was searching for solitude? Perhaps I was meeting a lover?” he said, regretting it before the last word left his lips.

What the hell was wrong with him? She would probably slap him or faint dead away at his lack of propriety.

He truly was an idiot.

She laughed instead, she actually laughed. It was soft, enchanting and real. It was nothing like the fake little laughs and giggles from women like Lady Penelope. Women like her faked everything in life just to be accepted by the
ton
and to catch a husband, who wanted nothing more than a warm body to produce an heir and didn’t want the hassle of a woman with a brain.

“What’s so amusing, my Lady? Are you suggesting that I couldn’t charm a woman to meet me for a tryst?” he drawled, wondering if she knew just how enchanting her laugh was.

With a sigh, she stopped laughing, but thankfully she was still smiling. “No, I’m sorry. I’m sure a man as handsome as you would have no difficulties finding a woman to share your time.”

Robert couldn’t stop the stupid full grin that curled up his lips. Of course he’d been called handsome before, but for some reason that he couldn’t comprehend at the moment, hearing her say it pleased him immensely. “Then what brought you to the conclusion that I was looking for privacy?”

She shrugged as she sat back down, leaning to the side so that she could focus her attention on him. “Well, there’s the fact that this particular orangery is far beyond the appropriate distance from the house. No man is going to come out here with a woman unless he’s looking to be trapped.” He couldn’t help but nod in agreement.

“Then there’s the weather. It’s quite cold out. A woman would probably complain about the distance from the house to the orangery. Then again, she would probably refuse the suggestion outright, knowing that it was too cold outside and that she would not be able to retrieve her shawl without drawing suspicion.”

Once again he nodded in agreement.

“Then of course there is the obvious.”

“Which is?” he asked, moving closer.

“A gentleman would not meet a woman here. He would escort her so that she didn’t have a chance to change her mind or accept another man’s invitation. It would also take both parties from the ball for far too long. If you were to arrive first, there would be the waiting period and then the actual time of your meeting not to mention the time one of you would need to remain behind so that it wouldn’t appear as though the two of you had gone off together."

He couldn’t help grinning. The woman was smart as well as attractive. He looked around the large room as a thought occurred to him. “Hmm, you’ve given this some thought. Are you perhaps meeting someone here? Or did he already leave?” he asked, making sure to add a teasing note to his tone.

Her smile weakened a bit as she shook her head. “No, there have never been any meetings for me and there probably never will be,” she admitted with a small shrug and a wistful tone that he almost missed.

“Why not?”

“I don’t plan on marrying,” she explained with a small smile.

“Why don’t you wish to marry?” he asked, forcing himself to sound casual. He wasn’t offering. Oh, hell no. Marriage was not going to happen for him unless he was desperate for an heir for his family’s sake. He had no intentions on being tied down to one woman for the rest of his life, someone that was constantly underfoot and depended on him for her happiness.

She looked thoughtful for a moment before she spoke. “I don’t want to be any man’s property."

“I thought that’s why these things,” he gestured back towards the ball, “were thrown so that young women could find themselves a husband. So, they could select an
appropriate
husband, someone to take care of them.”

She shrugged indifferently. “Yes, I dare say that many of the women are here for that reason and would find me utterly foolish, because I don’t wish to find a husband at one of these orchestrated events.”

“Then why did you come?” He took another step closer.

“Probably for the same reason that you did.”

“Which is?” he prompted. He didn’t want her to stop talking for fear that one of them would have to leave. He wanted to make this last, but more importantly, he wanted to see her smile and hear her laugh one more time before he had to do the right thing and walk away.

“Well,” she looked thoughtful, “in your case I would assume that either your mother or your father persuaded you to attend. If I had to guess, I would say that your mother was the one that expected your attendance.”

“Oh?”

She nodded firmly. “Your mother, definitely your mother. If it was your father you would have simply made an appearance, danced with a few women to make him think that you were looking for a wife and be done with it.”

He agreed. “If it was my mother? What reason would I have to attend then?”

“Most mothers wish for their sons to marry for a simple reason, grandchildren. You came here even though you clearly don’t want to be here. You came to make your mother happy, because she requested your attendance and you obviously care a great deal for your mother. Instead of simply leaving, you searched for a place to hide.”

He arched an eyebrow at that. “Or it could be that I came here in her carriage and I am trapped here until she decides that it’s time to leave,” he drawled.

Her eyes slowly moved down his body in an assessing manner, but not in the same way that Penelope had looked him over. This woman’s gaze didn’t annoy him. Her gaze made him stand straighter as every muscle in his body flexed under her scrutiny, making him feel like an idiot even as he wondered if she liked what she saw.

“You’re obviously a man with means. You could have hired a hack and left. There’s always the card room for escape or you could have simply left with a friend.”

“Or walked,” he added.

She smiled. “I much prefer walks myself. Yes, you could have walked provided that your home was close enough.”

“Two miles.”

“That’s not too far away.”

“No, it’s not.” He rather enjoyed walks. He found himself taking walks every evening. Even in London he found that he enjoyed walking. The vulgar smells of the city and crowds didn’t seem to dampen his enjoyment enough for him to stop.

He eyed her carefully. Her skin was the color of light honey. She looked fit, but not too thin. Her breasts were good size, not too big, but perfect for his hands, and from what he recalled from when she stood, her hips were generous. He was willing to bet her legs were well defined, probably from hours of walking.

“So, you’re here because your parents want you to marry,” he surmised from what little he knew about her and what he knew about women of her station in general.

She gave him a dreamy smile that made his chest tighten. “When I was a little girl I wanted nothing more than to have a season. It all seemed so magical, balls, dancing, and being courted by handsome men,” she added the last with a teasing tone.

He grinned. “Sounds like every girl’s dream to find Prince Charming. What happened to change that dream?” he asked, coming closer. He was now standing only a few feet away from her. His original thought that she was beautiful shattered. She was nothing less than a goddess.

She sighed heavily. “Anthony.”

He felt a tug of unease. Was it jealousy?

“So, you’re in love with this Anthony?”

Please God, no
.

She laughed. “No. He’s my brother-in-law. My sister married for love. She didn’t care about a title or money. He made her happy, still does. They are the happiest couple that I know and their boys are extraordinary.”

“And you want that for yourself,” he surmised.

“It will most likely never happen for me,” she said with a careless shrug that tore at his heart and left him wondering why he cared so much.

 

Chapter 6

She was not going to tell this stranger that she was an heiress. If he turned out to be a fortune hunter she would be in trouble. He could easily sound the alarm and she would be compromised and forced to accept his hand. She wouldn’t be able to survive being trapped in a loveless marriage.

“So, if you wish to marry for love, why don’t you enjoy evenings like this more?”

She waved her hand lazily in the air. “This? This is all orchestrated. People come here looking for the right connection, the right amount of money, and the best gossip. No one comes here looking for love. I knew before my coming out that I would never find love at a ball. It would just happen…..somehow, somewhere.”

He took another step forward. “But you came anyway.”

She looked wistful. “Until the day I marry, I belong to my father and then to my husband. I am considered nothing more than property. If I wish to have certain rights or benefits I must make the man in my life happy first. Then if he is generous I might be allowed to follow my own pursuits.” Of course that would all change with her inheritance.

Without a word, he moved to sit next to her on the padded bench. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Sounds unfair, but I don’t understand what type of pursuits a woman could have that a man would not allow. Surely your father would encourage you to embroider, watercolor, play the pianoforte.”

“I’m afraid that you would find me quite unusual then.”

“Try me.” He tilted his head to the side to watch her as she blew out a deep breath.

“If I don’t smile, look pretty, attend the right function, accept the attentions of the right gentlemen, my father will rule my life with an iron fist. I don’t like to embroider. I would rather sew quilts since it seems a better use of a skill to keep one warm than to make something look frivolous. I enjoy cooking, but I’m not supposed to. No woman in society is supposed to enjoy that. We’re supposed to enjoy ordering other people to do that for us,” she said with a conspiratorial smile that he found utterly adorable.

“But not you,” he murmured, smiling. “I bet you make delicious biscuits,” he teased.

She grinned devilishly. “My brother-in-law and nephews swear by them.”

He took another look at her slender figure. “You don’t look like someone that enjoys cooking.”

She rolled her eyes in a rather fetching manner. “I like to cook, not to eat.”

“My apologies.” He couldn’t stop smiling near this woman. He was sure that he looked foolish, but at the moment he truly didn’t care. “So, tell me what other scandalous pursuits do you enjoy? Smuggling? Piracy?” he teased.

She laughed. “No, I’m not quite that shameful. I enjoy reading, attending the theatre, taking walks, gardening, shooting, and swimming." His eyes widened in surprise at that. “I enjoy things that my father believes are best suited for men,” she explained with an impish smile “I see.” He nodded, surprised by her list of pursuits. Most women would be outraged to hear another woman enjoying such things. He had to admit that most men would be shocked as well. He’d never understood that since they were all worthy pursuits.

“I’m sure that you do,” she mumbled. “I’m not supposed to tell anyone that. My father would be furious if he found out that I told you. Not that it matters anymore I suppose.”

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