The Devilish Mr. Danvers: The Rakes of Fallow Hall Series (14 page)

Hedley jerked her hand away, pulling it back within the protected space between them. The apple was still in her grasp.

Before Rafe could warn her that Frit was no fool when it came to apples, his horse lifted his head and pressed his nose to the top of Rafe’s shoulder.

In an unexpected display of bravery, Hedley lifted her shaking hand. Eyes still locked on Rafe’s, she stammered, “H-here i-i-is your-r-r apple.”

Frit wasted no time and snatched it up. But before he left, he then pressed his nose against Hedley’s hand and snuffed her affectionately.

She glanced down to her hand, eyes wide, as if to make sure it was still attached. As Rafe had promised, Frit wandered away in search of water. And Hedley relaxed beneath his hands.

“There now. You were absolutely marvelous.” Rafe had never known such pride or relief. Wrapping his arms around her, he held her close and spun her in a circle. “You fed Frit an apple. Unbelievable! You know what this means, don’t you. You did it, Hedley. You’ve met your fear head on.”

“I fed a horse an apple,” she said in apparent disbelief. Then, she blinked and her pupils widened. “I fed a horse an apple.”

“I know,” he said on a breath, so damn happy that he didn’t know what to do with himself. So he spun her around once more. “You’ll have a friend for life now. Frit gave you his approval.”

“His nose was wet. He touched my hand with his nose.” Gradually, her stunned expression transformed into a smile.

Rafe’s heart pounded in a peculiar manner. It seemed to turn to jelly, all squishy and quivering. Words were lost on him as he stared down into her face. His reflection in her eyes was upside down. And that was exactly how he felt.

Hedley tilted her head, studying him closely. “Something is different in your gaze.”

He stilled. “You are mistaken.”

Her hands spread over his chest, no doubt detecting the odd cadence from within. She was too perceptive by half. “You say there is nothing between us. Nothing more than Greyson Park. Not when you kissed me. Not when you held me. Not even now. Does this truly feel like nothing?”

“There is desire,” he answered, giving her a portion of honesty. “I find you desirable. Your guilelessness is the most powerful aphrodisiac I’ve ever encountered. And what you feel for me is nothing more than the same. I am merely the first man you’ve responded to—there will be others. Someday, you may marry one of them.”

Her soft laugh caressed his lips, tempting him. “I’ve spent all my life watching people from a distance, studying the language of their expressions and actions. There
is
something between us, Rafe, whether you admit it or not. I can feel it vibrating beneath your skin. I can see it in your gaze.”

“Whatever we have is fleeting.” And to cement the point, he dropped his arms from her and took a step back. Yet already he ached to hold her again. Even with this small separation, his skin, his muscles, and his bones all throbbed in near agony.

She drew in a deep breath and nodded. “Then I am glad. I would not want either of us to feel this way forever.”

Then she turned on her heel and left.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

W
hen Hedley returned to Greyson Park that afternoon, she soon learned that she wasn’t the only one who’d suffered damage while she’d been away. Another large hunk of plaster had fallen from the hole in the parlor ceiling. And the broken window in the upstairs bedroom at the far corner had suffered another crack. Of course, the manor’s damage had occurred during the storm last night. Hers had happened this morning and centered on her heart.

She knew very well that feeling the security of Rafe’s arms around her had been instrumental in facing one of her fears. But what surprised her the most was how powerful she’d felt after surviving the encounter with his horse. She’d felt sure of herself. Confident. And unwilling to hold her tongue a moment longer.

Confessing to Rafe that she knew there was something between them had been exhilarating. Seeing his stark reaction, however, had compelled her not to tell him everything she felt.

Likely, he wouldn’t appreciate hearing her admit to believing herself in love with him. Since she’d never been in love before, it was difficult to be certain. And yet, she
was
certain.

She loved Rafe. The feeling inside her was more than the peculiar slushy beats of her heart. More than how content she felt in his arms. More than the thrill of seeing him without his clothes . . . which was saying a great deal.

It was because he knew her secrets and darkest fears and had never once looked at her as if she were mad.

And now she knew that she wanted to live the rest of her life making sure all of his dreams came true . . . which brought her thoughts directly back to Greyson Park.

Looking around the parlor at the mess of horsehair plaster on the floor, she sighed. Why did Rafe want this house? He wanted it so badly, in fact, that he was willing to barter for it as if she were the coin and Montwood were the buyer. Now
that
she did not love about Rafe. Granted, he certainly was determined.

But so was she.

After changing back into her ill-fitting, threadbare clothes, she began to clean up the mess. Once she finished sweeping out the parlor and removing the shards of glass from the bedroom, she checked on Mr. Tims. His rheumatism had kept him abed for the past week. While she was in his cottage, she made him a pot of tea and swept his floors as well.

When she returned to Greyson Park, she was surprised to find Montwood waiting. He wore a gray frock coat trimmed in black and stood with his arms clasped behind his back, facing the front door. He must have heard her on the path, because he turned.

“Ah, there you are. And back to the old way of things, I see.” Beneath his black hat, his dark brows lifted as his gaze looked over her clothes. “It is a rare woman, indeed, who would cast aside a new wardrobe for the old.”

Grinning, she reached down and plucked at her skirt as she curtsied. “I hate to disappoint you, Montwood, but I am not as rare as you think. I would much prefer new clothes, but even more, I would not wish to ruin them as I cleaned.”

“You are rarer than you think,” he said with a bow and a charming smile. “In many ways.”

Hedley eyed her new friend with speculation. “Surely you haven’t come all this way to pay me a compliment.”

“And clever too,” he said, gesturing with his open hand to the unkempt lawn. “Would you care to walk with me? Since you have no chaperone, we’ll keep to the open park between your fine house and Fallow Hall. We must be on constant guard of your reputation, you know.”

She scoffed but walked beside him nonetheless. “Yes, the reputation of a madwoman is precious, indeed. Never mind the simple fact that I don’t intend to marry.”

“Not marry? And deprive a fortunate man years of wedded bliss?”

“So you
are
here solely to pay me compliments,” she teased but then turned serious. There was no reason not to be forthcoming with Montwood. “The truth is, if I marry, I will lose Greyson Park, and it will revert back to my family.”

He nodded, apparently not surprised. “And have you told Danvers this as well?”

“No, but I suspect he knows.” Hedley sighed, the weight of disappointment and confusion pressing on her. “The suspicion began this morning, when I learned of your wager. Although knowing that he’d spent time in London and had contacted the solicitor to verify my claim of ownership, I should have presumed as much.”

“He is quite determined to see us married.” Montwood stopped and lifted her hand to his lips, his amber eyes shaded beneath the brim of his hat. “What do you say? Shall we run away together to spite him?”

Hedley didn’t take him seriously. “You would lose a fortune.”

He shrugged. “Fortunes come and go easily through these fingers. I would find a way to make another.”

“Another flaw in your argument is the fact that Rafe would not be vexed in the least. In fact, he would be quite glad to gain ten thousand pounds and Greyson Park.”

“For a time, perhaps. Men are notoriously slow at catching on to these things.”

Sensing that Montwood’s manipulations were not solely restricted to piano keys, she directed the conversation back to where they had begun. “Tell me the real reason you decided to visit me this afternoon.”

Montwood laughed and resumed walking until they were directly in line with the break in the trees that revealed Fallow Hall in the distance.

“We are two halves of the same coin, Hedley. We both see things that others believe they’ve hidden. Your way is to confront, openly and honestly, while mine is . . . well, let’s just say that I’m the side of the coin always facing down.” But he made no apologies for his nature. “The truth is, I’m running away from Fallow Hall.”

She laughed at his sincerity. “Why ever for?”

“Two plagues have descended on that house.” He trembled mockingly. “And their names are Phoebe and Asteria Croft.”

“Calliope’s sisters? How lovely.” Hedley smiled until she saw Montwood shake his head in earnest. “Why have you felt a need to escape them?”

“They believe themselves to be matchmakers when they actually are meddlesome tyrants—” He broke off and cleared his throat, likely because of Hedley’s disapproving glower. “They will not rest until every gentleman they encounter is scrutinized, put on a list, and then summarily compared to a similar list of young women. Within five minutes of their arrival, they’d already chosen three potential brides for me.”

Hedley looked through the trees once again and felt a twisted sort of dark pleasure fill her. “And do you think they are torturing Rafe right this minute?”

“Undoubtedly.”

She smiled. “Good.”

R
afe ducked out of the hall and into the map room the moment he glimpsed the sable coiffure of one of the Croft twins. Where there was one, there was bound to be the other. Thankfully, he didn’t believe he’d been spotted.

“Quick, man! Up here!” Everhart leaned over the loft railing, holding a bottle of whiskey in one hand and two glasses in the other. “Lock the door.”

“You’re not supposed to run from your own relatives,” Rafe chided when he reached the top of the circular staircase.

Beyond a short row of bookcases, Everhart stood beside the large map table, already pouring the amber liquid. “You can lecture me all you like once you’ve married your wife by special license—after being the one who’d not only broken her heart but caused her to swear off marriage for five years. I still believe her father plans to murder me in my sleep. The right cross on that man would astound you.”

“Then I am grateful, for your sake, that they are only breaking their journey here for a single night.” Rafe walked over, took his glass, and clinked it against Everhart’s. “To family.”

Everhart laughed wryly and tipped back the whiskey. “I’m still unsure if the darks looks from her father will lessen or worsen once we tell him about the baby. There is no disguising a premature birth, after all.”

“Baby?” Rafe stared agape at his friend. “Calliope is . . . ”

His friend nodded and a look of pride and tenderness showed in the smile that swept over his expression.

Rafe took the bottle and poured them both another drink. “To
your
family, Everhart.”

The first of their set to have a child had been Weatherstone. Then Rafe’s own sister, who’d married Everhart’s cousin. And now Everhart. Soon everything would change, and when they gathered together, it would be to watch their children play in the garden.

Well . . .
their
children.
Not mine and none with cornflower blue eyes and hair threaded with copper
, Rafe reminded himself, unsure why that thought had found its way into his head. Or why, for an instant, he’d imagined such a child among the frolicking brood.

He downed the second glass, hoping it would help to cool the burning anxiety he’d been carrying with him most of the day. Ever since his encounter with Hedley this morning. “Where do you suppose Montwood is off to?”

“Valentine informed me that our friend headed off in the direction of Greyson Park some time ago.” A muscle in Everhart’s jaw twitched. It was his
tell
—and a sign that he was holding something back.

Did that mean Montwood had expressed an interest in Hedley?

“Alone?” Rafe asked over the rim of his glass.

“I believe so. Why? Wasn’t it your intention to prod him into a match with Miss Sinclair?”

“Of course.” Losing his thirst, he lowered the glass. “You’re saying that as if I’m bothered by it, when—I assure you—the opposite is true. I couldn’t be more delighted. I just don’t want Montwood to need a special license.”

Everhart laughed heartily. “You do realize you’re saying that about our wagering-cardsharp of a friend, right?”

“Are you saying he’s not to be trusted?”

“Aren’t you counting on it? How else do you plan to win?”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

R
afe spotted Montwood ahead of him on the lane between Fallow Hall and Greyson Park. Hedley was nowhere in sight. Surely she would have accompanied him on the return to the manor in order to dine with them this evening. Unless the blackguard walking this way had upset her or made advances—

He hastened his steps, stopping just short of a physical collision. “You have spent the afternoon with our neighbor. Alone.”

“If you are worried about her reputation, I made sure to contain our visit to the park, well within sight of the caretaker’s cottage.” Montwood grinned, his amber eyes glinting beneath the brim of his hat. “You wanted me to court her, didn’t you?”

Rafe shifted, moving his neck in a way to break the tightness that began at his fists and moved up his arms to his shoulders. “You may court whomever you please. I was merely inquiring as a measure of protection. She is, after all, without family.”

“That speaks less of protection and more of staking your claim, Danvers.”

She
is
mine!
A fierce voice inside of him shouted those words again and again, though Rafe didn’t know what had come over him. “Nothing of the sort.”

Montwood arched a dubious brow. “I am glad. I think when the year is up and the wager is won, I will court her. I am eager to engage in the . . .
wooing
of Hedley Sinclair.”

Rafe wasn’t entirely certain how it happened, but one minute he was talking to Montwood, and the next, his friend was flat on his arse with his hat in his lap. And the pain in his own knuckles didn’t bother him a bit.

H
edley looked around the room that she had cleaned only hours before. Now, it was littered with baskets, flower petals, stems, teacups, and small plates of gingerbread crumbs. And she couldn’t have been happier with any other mess.

Calliope settled into the corner of the sofa on the cushion beside her. “I hope you don’t mind that we’ve taken over your parlor like a group of marauders. I have no idea how my mother remained sane with all of us beneath the same roof.”

Before Hedley could answer, Tess chimed in. “My sisters tend to be quite overwhelming.” Even at thirteen years old, the youngest of Calliope’s sisters was a true beauty with wavy, bright golden locks. Sitting on the edge of the rug with her legs tucked beneath her, she contentedly fashioned a tiara of purple flowers as if she hadn’t a care in the world.

“You are simply too young to understand how important our jobs are,” Phoebe, the eldest of the sable-haired twins, said from one of the stiff-backed chairs, before reaching over to tug on one of Tess’s curls. The instant she received a squinty-eyed glare from her younger sister, she grinned, and her brown eyes glinted with mischief.

Asteria, the twin with blue eyes, nodded as she sipped the last of her tea. “Think of it this way, Tess—if there weren’t matchmakers like us, then society would fall into ruins. Men cannot be trusted to choose wisely and therefore must be guided to the perfect matrimonial candidates.”

“Quite,” Phoebe agreed. Then, sitting up straighter, she aimed that glinting gaze at Hedley. “Which brings to mind our need to catalog your interests.”

Asteria sat forward and placed her cup on the low table, all of her considerable attention now on Hedley. “Yes, we must know who is best suited for you.”

This visit was by far the most pleasant exchange between siblings Hedley had ever experienced. They filled the room with effervescence and warmth. And yet, they were also a lot to take on all at once.

“I can assure you, dear sisters,” Calliope intervened, “that our new friend already knows her own mind. Perhaps you should concentrate on sorting out the men on your list.”

Phoebe tapped her finger against the side of her mouth. “Hmm . . . yes, but the only unmarried men in Lincolnshire we know—”

“Are the gentlemen at Fallow Hall,” Asteria finished for her. The twins exchanged a look. Their dark, wispy brows rose in unison. Then, they leaned in closer and began to chatter.

Calliope laughed to Hedley. “Do not worry. They are leaving at first light.”

“Even at the risk of becoming a victim of their plot, I am already sad that they will be leaving so soon,” Hedley admitted.

Her life with Ursa had had no joy in it. There’d been only cruelty. And until now, Hedley had never witnessed what a family could be like. Nevertheless, she’d always hoped it would be just like this. By Calliope’s tender expression and the hand that reached over and squeezed her own, Hedley knew she understood.

“If it’s any consolation—although I do not know how it could be,” Calliope said in a teasing tone, “they will break their journey once more on the way back from Brannaleigh Hall. This is the first trip in many years that Father has made to Scotland, and it is important for him to rest each night. Both he and Mother were already sound asleep before we left Fallow Hall. I doubt they will rouse for dinner.”

“Will you be coming to dinner, Hedley?” Phoebe asked.

“Not this evening.” Hedley looked from one twin to the other, with both looking back as if their heads were brewing with plans. She nearly shuddered at the level of determination they possessed. She was tired of matchmaking, however, and especially tired of being someone’s plot.

The giddiness she’d felt yesterday while in Rafe’s arms, after having confronted one of her fears, had faded as the truth settled in. Rafe was certain there was nothing more than desire between them. While she refuted it on her own behalf, she knew very well that she couldn’t force Rafe to feel differently.

Drawing in a breath, she looked to the twins and decided that an immediate redirection was in order. “I should like to hear all about what it is like to have a Season. How many gentlemen are pursuing each of you?”

Calliope gave her a nod and grin as if to say,
“Well done.”

The eldest twin sobered and clasped her hands in her lap. “We have had little success with true candidates.”

“There was one,” Asteria added, casting a sly sideways glance at her sister. “If you include your persistent suitor, Phoebe.”

“Lord
Nobody
is far too old. At least two years older than our brother.” Phoebe tsked and shook her head. “And no manners to speak of. He soiled my best gloves.”

Asteria leaned forward. “Then, instead of flowers, he sent her
gloves
the next day.”

Hedley didn’t understand why the twins appeared scandalized. “That was kind of him to offer reparation.”

“No. No.” Phoebe’s spine went rigid. “A woman dare not accept such a gift at the risk of openly accepting a gentleman’s pursuit.”

“And once she does,” Asteria added, “he will cease wooing her at all, believing that the game is done.”

Calliope clucked her tongue. “Love and marriage are not games.”

“There are rules one must follow in courtship, aren’t there?” Phoebe asked.

Asteria nodded with a scholarly expression. “And then each player must move of his or her own accord.”

“That does sound like a game,” Tess remarked, situating her flower tiara on her head.

Calliope let out a breath and offered a helpless shrug. “I suppose you are right.”

Hedley observed this exchange with fascination. Then, taking the gentlemen’s wager into account as well, she was beginning to see things in a new light. This visit was turning into a study of society. Not to mention, helpful insight.

By accepting that parcel from Rafe, early on, she’d granted him the control of the game that he’d decided to play, and summarily used her as a pawn. His rules. His game. And she was left wondering what to do next.

But now, it was time to introduce a few of her own rules.

Tess stood and brushed out her skirts. “Is it true that there is a treasure here at Greyson Park?”

Hedley smiled at her new friends. “Yes. Right here. The parlor hosts the greatest treasure of all.”