Authors: Janet Kent
How did everything go so wrong?
The last thing he wanted to do was trap himself in an unwanted marriage to Miss
Kinsey. From the panicked expression she’d thrown him, she was just as unhappy
with the idea.
And what about Elizabeth? Thank
heavens he hadn’t undisguised himself last night. Finding out about this
debacle could only hurt her. She’d be hurt enough when he couldn’t follow
through on his promise to court her. No need for her to know why.
Dazed, Ian cradled his head in
his hands and tried to pretend that almost the entire supper party wasn’t on
the other side of his closed eyelids, staring at him as if he’d ravished Miss
Kinsey right there on the piano bench.
He peeked through his fingers.
They were still there.
For the love of God. He was
really going to have to marry her. At the very least, he’d have to call on her
father in the morning and make the offer. Ian let out a self-deprecating snort.
Well, what do you know? He was actually going to get to see Chadwick House in
the daylight.
He rose to his feet and struggled
through the crowd in search of Miss Kinsey.
* * *
Blinking in the sudden rain, Alicia stumbled up the
slippery steps to Chadwick House, Louis’ fingers still attached to her arm as
they had been for most of the night – ever since she’d been “caught” with Ian
Morrissey. Oh, why, why, why? Of all the stupid places to go for privacy, what
possessed them to huddle together in the music room, right after supper? Of
course the party would make its way there. Then again, at least she’d been
caught somewhere fairly banal, and not in some truly shocking locale. A piano
bench was far preferable to a bedroom.
Almost bowling over the butler in
his haste, Louis flung open the front door and shoved her into the entranceway,
screaming “Chadwick! Chadwick!” at the top of his lungs.
Alicia wasn’t sure if she should
punch him or burst into tears.
She wrenched from his grasp as
the household came running from every corner, some bleary-eyed and some not yet
gone to bed. She stood, pliant, while servants replaced her sodden pelisse with
a dry shawl and led her to the sitting room, where a fire had been started.
Louis shrugged off the staff’s
help and stomped into the room after her, shouting for her father and leaving a
trail of sloppy bootprints in his wake. By the time Chadwick appeared in the
doorway, Louis stood in a wet puddle, his face livid and his throat hoarse.
“What on earth is the matter?”
Chadwick demanded then caught sight of Alicia. “What happened? Are you all
right?” he asked in a gentler voice.
Alicia gave a weak smile but
couldn’t find words to express how she was feeling at that moment.
“She’s fine!” Louis spluttered.
“Don’t worry about her!”
“If she’s fine and you’re fine,
why is my household in an uproar? It’s almost one o’clock in the morning.”
“Yes. Yes, it is. Friday morning. Which means I was
supposed to get permission to marry your daughter tomorrow. Tomorrow!”
Chadwick drummed his fingers
together. “Please tell me you didn’t storm into my house in the middle of the
night to reiterate your suit with Alicia.”
“My suit! You’ll need some magic
to make her marry me now.”
Frowning, Chadwick cast quizzing
eyes toward Alicia then back to Louis. “All I need to give is my permission,”
he said, wrinkling his brow.
“Wrong! Well, you would have been
right had not this bit of fluff–”
“Louis–”
“Your daughter, then, who decides
to sneak off to spend time alone with some nobody–”
“What nobody?”
“Oh, I don’t know,
Mister
Morrissey, I think. He’s not even titled! That didn’t stop this one from
running off with him, though. Probably as poor as a church-mouse with the
manners of a pig, but she waltzes right into an empty room with him and closes
the door. He’s no better than a–”
Unable to stomach any more of his
ranting, Alicia jerked to her feet. “Oh, what do you care, Louis? You’re not
the one marrying him.”
“Neither will you!” Louis swung
one hip to the side, arms akimbo. “Tell her, Chadwick.”
Alicia clutched her shawl tighter
around her shoulders and turned to face her father.
“Were you compromised, daughter?”
he asked, disappointment in his eyes.
“We didn’t do anything, Papa,”
she said in a rush. “We didn’t touch each other, much less kiss or anything
else Louis is insinuating. We’re not lovers – we’ve only recently become
friends.”
“But were you compromised?”
“I wouldn’t have been alone with
him at all if it weren’t for Louis.”
At his name, Louis jerked his
head toward her and Alicia treated him to an icy glare. “That’s right, Louis.
The only reason he took me aside is because I was so upset when you showed up
out of nowhere, full of your insults and little hurtful comments.”
“Be that as it may,” interrupted
Chadwick. “I’ll ask again. Were you compromised?”
“He was only trying to cheer me
up,” Alicia said softly.
“Alicia.”
“Yes, Papa. I suppose I was
compromised.”
Chadwick ignored Louis’ loud
sniff. “Do you want to marry him?”
“Not really,” Alicia muttered. As
soon as she saw Louis perk up at that answer, she added hastily, “But I suppose
I must.”
Her father pursed his lips then
gave a quick nod. “Very well.”
Louis’ jaw dropped open. “What?
What am I supposed to do? Chadwick, what are you going to do?”
“I,” he answered in tones of deep
sadness, “am going to let my daughter worry about the consequences of her own
actions. Don’t goggle so, Louis. Come with me to my office. We have much to
discuss.”
Alicia sank back into the chair
and stared at the flames licking up from the fire. Logs crackled behind the
grate. The heat dried her skirts and warmed her cold fingers, but all she could
think about was Rogue’s almost-proposal. What was she going to do?
Ian woke at dawn, went for a long ride, returned to
his townhouse and flopped into a chair to brood. He faced the front window,
although his eyes did not register any activity taking place outside of it.
Instead, his mind replayed the events of the previous two nights with
inexorable cruelty.
In the space of twenty-four
hours, he’d very nearly pledged himself to one woman and shackled himself to
another.
Compromised.
The thought hadn’t even occurred
to him when he’d whisked Miss Kinsey from Larouche’s tentacles. He’d reacted on
instinct, as though she were one of his sisters in need of comfort or
protecting.
“Not plain Miss Kinsey for much
longer,” Ian mocked himself aloud. “She’ll soon be Alicia Morrissey.”
Perhaps. Her father might deny
his suit. The lady in question might refuse him herself. Ian barked a short,
mirthless laugh. Who was he kidding? He might as well start penning the
announcement.
Damn.
Neither of them wanted to join
together in a farcical marriage, but what could they do? He could hardly leave
her to face the consequences alone. In many people’s eyes, she’d be forever
“ruined”. Ian slammed his fist down on the arm of the chair.
Elizabeth, who had no doubt
suffered a lifetime of disappointments, would now be dealt another. His
courtship would not be forthcoming. Damn, damn, damn.
Why couldn’t he have been caught
with Elizabeth instead? Now, there was a woman who had a more substantial claim
to being compromised by him, despite her complicity in his ardent endeavors.
The worst of it was that he’d never have crossed such a line with her if he
hadn’t intended on making it honest!
Even if she were a member of the
now-poor branch of the Holsworth side of the family, even if it turned out that
under all those gay patches, Elizabeth was older than he and less than pleasing
to the eye – none of that mattered. He’d been tickled by her plucky personality
and he’d gloried in her passionate nature, and he was sure theirs would have
been a romance to remember.
Thank the stars he’d only asked
if he could court her. How much worse it might have been if he’d actually
proposed marriage!
None of which was Miss Kinsey’s
fault, of course. Ian felt certain he alone shouldered the blame. After all,
whose idea had it been to “rescue” her from Larouche and go somewhere “private”
where she could gather her wits in peace? Ian’s jaw clenched. Marvelous work,
Morrissey.
At least they shared a burgeoning
friendship. Although unexpected and unwanted, perhaps their marriage could be a
companionship of sorts, a union of affection and trust if not passion and love.
Since she was as much a victim of
circumstance as he, Ian owed her the respect and courtesy of his best attempt
to make the relationship work. Perhaps with work and care, if properly
fostered, love could develop over time.
He could give her time. There was
no need to rush an innocent girl. If they married quickly, he could woo his
wife slowly; perhaps not even consummate the wedding until she was ready. And
if there’s was an engagement that stretched on for months… well. He planned to
do the right thing if it killed him. Ian grimaced. He was getting used to being
frustrated anyway.
Forcing himself to his feet, Ian
rang for Cobb. He might as well head to Chadwick House now and discover what
the future held in store.
* * *
Having not the slightest
inclination to sew seams, play the pianoforte, or read a romance novel, Alicia
slumped in the first-floor sitting room, pouring out her heart to her
great-aunt Beatrix.
“What if he doesn’t wish for you
to come live with us?” Alicia asked, her elbow balancing on the arm of the
chair and her chin resting on her fisted hand. “Papa said I should bring you
with me, but Louis hints at sending you… somewhere.”
Stretching her spindly legs,
Beatrix answered without turning from the fire. “Your father would never send
me anywhere I didn’t want to go, honey. Louis is a self-involved prig. We
should be glad to be rid of him.”
“What if we can’t?” Alicia cried.
“What if Mr. Morrissey chooses to make London his primary lodgings and we are
forced to encounter Louis at every turn?”
Beatrix slanted her a pointed
look. “At least you won’t be married to him.”
“No,” agreed Alicia in bitter
tones. “I’ve left that unwanted match for another.” Thanks to her thoughtless
indiscretion with Mr. Morrissey, her already improbable chances of marrying for
love became impossible.
“Is Mr. Morrissey a better sort
than Louis?” her aunt queried in her quavering voice.
Alicia shot up straight in her
chair. “Of course! How could he not be?”
“Then, scandal aside, what is the
problem?”
The problem was Rogue with his
intoxicating kisses and irresistible proposal. The problem was Ian Morrissey
standing in the way of her last hope for happiness. The problem was Louis,
drumming up his stupid suit in the first place. The problem was Papa, going
along with the idea of pledging his daughter to her oleaginous cousin. The
problem was her own ridiculous naivety, thinking things would work themselves
out with Louis, Papa would retract his rigid stance, she would live happily
ever after with Rogue, and no harm would come of a few moments alone with Ian
Morrissey, friend to friend.
“The very worst part,” Alicia
answered finally, “is that as angry as I’ve made Louis and as disappointed as
I’ve made Papa, they both believe me when I say that the conversation was of
the utmost innocence – and it doesn’t matter.”
Beatrix was silent for long
moments before responding. “To be fair,” she said in a soft voice as she turned
back to the fire, “Mr. Morrissey seems in much the same predicament.”
A deep feeling of remorse
replaced the quick flash of resentment caused by this statement. Aunt Beatrix
was right. Mr. Morrissey had not wished to wed her any more than she him. As
accidental as their sudden engagement may be, he at least seemed a
straight-forward, loyal sort, with none of her cousin’s infuriating tendencies.
He had only tried to help.
Alicia slouched against the chair
cushion with a sigh. Without a doubt, he regretted his involvement in her life
even more than she. Thanks to her, he would now be leg-shackled to a bride he
didn’t want, and who didn’t want him. That could hardly be an enticing fate for
any man.
“He was just trying to be a
friend,” she admitted aloud. And it wasn’t his fault she’d already fallen in
love with someone other than him. She owed him, as a wife and a woman, to give
their unplanned relationship a true effort.
The very fact that he was a
stranger also worked in his favor. Despite her earlier uncertainty, the
likelihood was great that she would live wherever he kept his principal seat –
far from Louis.