Annie And The Cowboy (Western Night Series 3) (35 page)

              “You make a valid point, Mister Polk.”

              “Please, call me Ta- um, Theodore. Call me Theodore.”

              “Only if you call me Linnet.”

              It was scandalous to be on such terms with a complete stranger, but there was simply something about him, she couldn’t help it. She wanted to run her mouth over those sharp cheekbones to see if they would cut her lips like she imagined they would. It was a silly and girlish thought, and unbecoming of an engaged woman, but then again this entire dance was unbecoming of a woman of her status.

              She loved it that way.

              “Why did you choose me, Theo?” Her lips curled around the nickname she had spontaneously given him, and she discovered that she very much liked to call him that. It was a dangerous thing to do, and she understood that well enough, but she couldn’t stop herself from doing it. It was too much fun. He spun her out wildly and she laughed, tipping her head back and enjoying the feeling.

              “You’re different,” Theodore said with a small measure of surprise. It seemed as though he was only just realizing that he meant it. “There’s something about you, you’re not like the others.”

              “The other girls have been taught to be a proper English lady,” Linnet replied simply.

              “And you haven’t been?”

              “I’ve been taught to be a proper nun,” Linnet replied. “This is my first party in… well, ever actually.”

              He looked surprised.

              “Good luck for me then.”

              “You’re different yourself, you know.”

              The ghost of an emotion flitted across his face and for a moment Linnet wondered if she had said something wrong. Her lips moved to apologize, but the emotion was gone so quickly she wasn’t sure that it had ever existed.

              “Perhaps I’m a spy for Scotland,” he said playfully. Linnet laughed.

              “Oh, really? Why would you leave the country for a town like this?”

              Another emotion this time, perhaps surprise? It was as though he had expected her to say something disparaging about the highlanders. Instead he seemed rather pleasantly surprised that she wasn’t.

              “If you love the country so much, you should come back with me when I go.”

              Linnet didn’t know if he was being serious or not. but she looked at him long and hard as the waltz slowed and he brought her closer to him. What if he was being serious? What if she could just run away to some beautiful Scottish place and live out the rest of her days far from the pressures of society?

             
Don’t be silly, Linnet
, she thought.
Society exists there too
.

              And her father would still exist in the world, so how could she truly get away? His face was very close to hers now, and she found herself unconsciously leaning in. It wasn’t until they were almost too close to pull away that she realized that she was truly dying for a kiss, and if he did kiss her in that moment she might burst into a million stars.

              “Excuse me, may I cut in?” A male voice asked from whatever reality Linnet was trying to escape from. Theodore moved back, surprised, and came face to face with a moderately attractive man with dark hair and eyes. Linnet’s heart began to pound for a different reason. Basile did not seem angry, more stern as he stood before the two of them. Linnet tried not to think of the people around her, those who might be seeing this little spectacle happen. Instead she looked directly at Basile, knowing it was the lesser of two evils in this moment.

              “Basile,” she said.

              “Linnet,” he replied. She could hear enough in his words that he was not at all pleased about this development. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

              “I…” She didn’t know what to say. Theodore looked between the two of them as though he were ready for the fight of his life.

              “Who are you?” He asked.

              “My name is Basile Trafalgar,” Basile replied with ice in his voice. “I happen to be Miss Wakefield’s  fiancé.”

              Theodore looked at her and she promptly looked away, too embarrassed to say anything in her own defense. Basile looked at her and she could not tell whether or not he was angry at her, but she knew that she was going to have to change the situation before it escalated, so she put on her loveliest smile and held out her hand to her  fiancé in what she hoped was a graceful movement.

              “You wanted a dance?”

              Ever the gentleman, Basile took her in his arms and swept her out to the dance floor, she could feel Theodore’s eyes on the back of her head as he took her away, and she did her best to toss him the most apologetic look that she could.

              “I’m not angry at you,” Basile told her as he maneuvered her with an expert grace that belied his impeccable breeding. Her head swam with things she should say, but nothing reasonable came. Should she apologize? Was he expecting an apology? A curl came loose from her elaborate hairstyle and he reached up to tuck it back behind her ear. She flinched internally, hoping that he did not see. If he did he made no comment, and danced with her in wide circles around the ballroom.

              “I’m glad,” she replied.

              “Why didn’t you tell me that you wanted to attend the ball? I could have brought you as my date, we are to be betrothed, I would not have denied you.”

              Linnet knew that he wasn’t telling the truth precisely. He would have asked her father first, and then did whatever the Baronet said. Linnet knew by now that the Baronet usually said no, so what was the point? As handsome and gentlemanly as Basile was, she wondered whether or not she could truly marry a man who was in her father’s pocket.

              “We will be married soon,” he said.

              It was then that Linnet realized she couldn’t. There was a look in his eyes that seemed almost hopeful, and it filled her heart with something that felt like sinking. Perhaps it was merely disappointment.

              Linnet could see her entire life stretched out before her, an endless parade of parties like this one, of prim and proper teas, of children born out of duty, given prim and proper names and raised the same way she was. She looked at this man, this perfectly fine, although ultimately completely unsuitable man and realized that she would rather be anywhere than where she was standing right at that moment.

              He looked at her as though expecting something, and she instead caught a glimpse of a dark suit disappearing down a hallway.
Theo
, she thought wildly.

              “As early as next week, I could expect. I’ll ask your father but I dare say he’s been waiting for ages for us to finally pick a day.”

              Her mouth went dry. She could feel Theodore’s eyes on the back of her neck as she danced.

              “We’ll honeymoon in Paris, of course, you’ve always wanted to see Paris, right, my darling?”

              She had, but with him? She could picture her days wandering the streets while Basile did one deal after another on her father’s behalf. Everything would be set for Basile Trafalgar then, finally married into the business he had worked for so long to be a part of, finally having what he believed he deserved. The idea, in spite of itself, made Linnet a little sick.

              Linnet did not, of course, hate Basile, she merely hated the fact that she would have to give up so much of her freedom for him, and for what? Another gilded cage? The thought made her stomach turn.

              And what if this dark stranger, a man who had danced with her before her  fiancé had ever bothered to. What about him? Had he really meant what he said while they danced? Would he want to take her to the highlands of Scotland...to do what?

              She could think of far too many things, and that made her blush once more.

              “Linnet?”Basile said in an attempt to capture her attention again. She took a step back from him.

              “I’m sorry, I need some air.”

              Before he could say anything she disappeared back into the crowd, making her way desperately to the hallway, hoping that she hadn’t lost him for good.

#

              Tavish knew he was a complete idiot for what he had done. Dancing with a girl? A girl to be married? Of course he didn’t know that she was going to, and no one would have blamed him for trying. The girl was exquisite, with those cornflower blue eyes and that red hair. He wish he could see it unbound, being blown in the breeze of Loch Maree. He felt a pang...he was so far from home.

              It was over now, he knew it, so why not leave early? The idea was incredibly tempting, and he was so caught up in the idea of riding his horse those many days back to the highlands that he did not hear the sound of footsteps behind him.

              “Theo!” He heard a cry, but the voice was achingly familiar. Turning around he was suddenly engulfed in a flurry of warm blue damask. Linnet. She had thrown her arms around him in a fit of passion, and he allowed it, burying his face in her hair and breathing in the scent of roses.

              They broke away and suddenly her lips were upon his, kissing him with small, feverish little kisses that sent spikes of desire into his heart. Her mouth was so small, so warm, and she kissed him as though she desperately wanted to devour him. He put his arms around her and pulled her closer, pulled her into a secluded drawing room where no one would find them.

              “Your  fiancé,” he whispered as she pushed herself closer to him. Linnet shook her head as though attempting to banish the thought of her  fiancé away.

              “I don’t care,” she whispered. “I just don’t want you to leave just yet.”

              She kissed him again, and again, and he began to feel dizzy with it. Her breast strained against the confines of her corset and he longed to free them, but he knew that she would never be able to put the clothing back on in any way that could avoid a scandal. He moved away from her as she attempted, clumsily, to reach for his britches.

“No,” he whispered to her. “Not here. We’ll get caught.”

He desperately wanted to, but the damn constraints of English clothing got in the way.

Candlelight flickered in Linnet’s hair  and he reached up to touch it. She shivered.

              “Take me with you,” she whispered to him.

              “Alright, my love,” he whispered back.

             
God help me
, he thought.
I hope I haven’t just destroyed us both.

#

              Basile knew something was wrong as soon as he entered the Wakefield residence and heard the maid crying. The Baronet kept a simple, yet remarkably expensive house, but only kept a few servants. Margaret was a particular favorite of Linnet’s, something like a friend and confidant, at least better than that silly Havilland girl was. Now his heart sank as he saw her tear stained face.

              “Margaret,” Basile began. “Whatever could be wrong?”

              With a shaky hand, she held out a piece of paper to him.

              It was paper thin stationary, filled with a spiky handwriting that he guessed must be Linnet’s. He narrowed his eyes as he read the words.

             
My Dearest Margaret,

              It pains me to tell you such things, but I must be away. I can no longer live in a world made that much smaller by my father, and I fear that if I marry Basile it will only get worse. ...Please do not tell him about this.

(At that Basile glanced up at Margaret with a confused look, only to make the poor girl burst into fresh tears.)

             
I hope that in time they come to understand why I have done what I have done. You were a wonderful friend to me Margaret, one I will always remember.

              All of my love and friendship, forever and ever,

                            Linnet

              Basile released a breath, it sounded like something close to annoyance, but he very rarely allowed himself to truly be annoyed. Linnet had disappeared, whatever was he to do? He pressed his lips into a straight line and looked up at Margaret.

              “I will write a letter to the Baronet straight away,” he said. “Then...well, I suppose I must get a carriage ready.”

              Margaret’s tears came to a slow stop.

              “You know where she is, sir?”

              Basile frowned. He did not like frowning, but it seemed appropriate for present circumstances.

              “I do, but I hope I’m wrong.”

              He turned and stormed out of the room.
Theodore Polk,
he thought bitterly.
I am going to find you.

#