Twice Tempted (9 page)

And then, as if the conversation were finished, she turned back to the window. Alex felt that rejection lodge in his chest like a peach pit, which confused him. He was here to help her; that was all. Her answer wasn’t personal.

But suddenly, it felt personal. He had known more beautiful women. Hell, Fiona’s
sister
was more beautiful. Amabelle had been more beautiful, all soft, plump curves and vulnerability. There was nothing vulnerable about this woman.

And yet, he had to help her. He had to have her with him, where he could watch her. Even though he knew damn well she probably wouldn’t tolerate watching.

“Lady Fiona,” he said. “Begging your pardon, but you know that isn’t an option. Not for you. Your birth precludes it.”

“My birth precluded my stealing apples from carts to eat, my lord,” she said quietly. “It precluded picking pockets for handkerchiefs and hiding in tavern corners waiting for drunks to drop a coin or two. But I have done that, too.”

“When you needed to. You no longer have to work. You have the right to enjoy the benefits of your station.”

That, finally, was what got her to turn, and he almost stepped back. Her eyes gleamed with a cold fire that froze him. “I have spent the last four years doing just that, my lord.
Enjoying my station.
Which meant that my sister and I were secluded in the country like a pair of madwomen, not allowed to travel, or interact with anyone else of our class, and certainly not of any other class, while our grandfather attempted to restore the family reputation.”

“Marquess,” Chuffy huffed. “Bad form.”

Alex saw something more in Fiona’s eyes. Something hard and unforgiving, something forged in fires he would never face. Fiona Ferguson was trying to share a truth no one in this room could understand, and it snaked down his back like a portent.

“I would be no credit to you, ma’am,” she told to Lady Bea. “My sister and I would always be freaks, useful for nothing better than gossip. ‘Those Ferguson girls. Came from the slums, don’t you know. The older one is known to carry a knife about her person, and stole food at school. Not good
ton
, my dear. Not good
ton
at all, ’” she mimicked with brutal effect.

Just as Alex knew she would, Lady Bea shook her head. “Noisy birds.”

Alex saw Fiona’s expression soften. He saw the briefest gleam of unspeakable pain darken those celestial eyes as she walked over to seat herself beside the old woman and take her hand. “You are all that is kind, ma’am,” she said, her voice as soft as regret. “But it is those noisy birds who make up your world. Who welcome or exclude you at their whim. The last thing I would want to do is to destroy your standing in your own world. I have been outside it my whole life and do not miss it in the least. You, I think, would suffer. My grandfather would see to it.”

Alex saw tears in Bea’s eyes, where he’d never seen them before. The old woman lifted a papery white hand to cup Fiona’s cheek. “No Joan,” she said.

Frowning in confusion, Alex looked over to Chuffy.

“Warrior?” Chuffy asked, his forehead pursed.

Fiona never looked away from the old woman. “Martyr,” she said softly. “Nor am I, ma’am. It so happens that I truly love the life I have chosen to live.”

Alex couldn’t accept her conclusion. He couldn’t leave her here in these bare rooms and menial conditions. It wasn’t right. He refused to admit that he couldn’t tolerate the idea that Fiona Ferguson would choose to take herself out of his life.

“You won’t be able to continue once Ian is back,” he challenged. “Your brother won’t allow it.”

Fiona smiled up at him, but again the smile was edged in steel. “We’ll see. Besides, I cannot imagine his new wife would welcome a pair of awkward spinsters into her home, nor wish our interference in her life.”

“Not so sure about that,” Chuffy said.

Alex finally found a reason to smile. “Indeed. I never got a chance to tell you who your brother married, did I?”

She frowned, still holding Lady Bea’s hand. “Does it matter?”

“Oh, I think so. He married your friend Sarah Clarke. Sarah Tregallan Clarke.”

Finally he had surprised her. She lost all color for a moment, her mouth a bit agape, her posture rigid. “Sarah? No. No, how could he?”

Alex shrugged. “Providence, I’d say. He washed up on her land, and she saved his life.”

“Friend?” Lady Bea asked.

“We…uh, we went to school together.”

Alex challenged her. “At Miss Chase’s Academy along with my sister Pip and Lady Elizabeth Ripton.”

Lady Bea’s head came up. “Dorchester?”

“Yes,” Alex said. “The Duke of Dorchester’s sister.”

Predictably, Lady Bea made a disdainful noise deep in her throat. “Awkward. Balderdash!”

“With all modesty,” Alex said, hand to his heart, “Lady Bea is saying that if these are your friends, you are already in the heart of the
ton
.”

He might have carried the argument if at that moment Fiona’s sister had not slammed open the door yelling, “Tea! Tea, tea, tea, tea, tea!”

And then, coming to an abrupt stop, almost causing the housekeeper to slam into her back, demanding, “Are you still here?”

“You’re right, of course,” Fiona said quietly. “Who could ever consider us awkward?”

Getting to her feet, she strode over to intercept her sister before Mairead could escape.

Chuffy anticipated her. “Promised tea,” he said evenly, stepping in front of Mairead before Fiona could reach her.

Mairead froze in place, glaring down at the chubby baron who only came up to her shoulders. “We did?” she asked.

He gave her a grave nod that sent his glasses skidding down his nose. “You did.”

And, amazingly, the Amazonian Mairead giggled like a girl and gently pushed his glasses back up into place. “Then tea it is.”

Alex looked over, expecting to see Fiona smile. She was staring, certainly, her hands wrapped around that pillow as if gaining purchase. But she wasn’t smiling. She frowned, her jaw working, as if she were chewing over the words she wanted to say.

“Mairead?” she said, holding out the pillow.

Her sister didn’t seem to notice her. “You like seed cakes?” she was asking Chuffy.

Chuffy patted his straining green-and-yellow-striped waistcoat. “Does it look like there is anything I don’t like?”

Without even looking over to her sister, Mairead took Chuffy’s hand and led him over to the chairs. Behind her, Mrs. Quick was shaking her head as she finally entered the room with the loaded tea tray. Alex sat back and prepared to repeat his invitation. He would not let Fiona Ferguson win this argument.

*  *  *

By the time Fiona finally convinced her Good Samaritans to go home, she had a raging headache. Alex had been determined that Fiona and Mairead follow him home. At least to Lady Bea’s home. He had gone so far as to call Fiona a fool. And all she had been able to do was sit silently and wait him out. She couldn’t say yes. And she refused to tell him why. Alex had always been her white knight, the only person besides Ian to look out for her. The last thing she wanted to do was disillusion him.

By the time she closed the door on her guests, she was reduced to lying on the brown couch with a lavender-scented cloth over her eyes.

“He said he’d help,” she heard, and knew that Mairead had returned to reassure herself of the momentous change in their lives.

“He did,” Fiona assured her, not moving.

That was another thing contributing to her headache. Mairead’s behavior with Chuffy Wilde. Mairead didn’t take to strangers, especially men. But she had spent quite twenty minutes explaining Cepheid variables to the guileless young man while he nodded, wide-eyed and adorably cute. Fiona had the feeling he hadn’t understood one word out of four, but he’d positively egged Mairead on, smiling all the while. And every so often, without interrupting her lecture, Mairead had reached out to shove his glasses back up his nose. She had willingly touched a stranger.

Fiona couldn’t remember the last time that had happened.

“Did he mean it, do you think?” Mairead asked, her voice unbearably hesitant, her arms once again around the pillow.

“Oh, I think he did. He said he would be back on Tuesday.”

She heard Mairead march closer. Mairead always marched, as if on a mission. But then, she probably was. Everything Mairead took an interest in was all-consuming. Mathematics, astronomy, music.

“Do you want me to play?” Mairead asked, her voice curiously soft.

Fiona did like to hear Mairead play. Her sister wasn’t a restful musician, but she was talented. She played with the same precision that she mapped stars and the kind of energy that spoke of Mairead’s use of music as release.

Fiona lifted the rag to see a curiously uncertain expression on her sister’s face. “What’s wrong, Mae Mae?”

Mairead’s eyes dipped. “You don’t look right.”

Fiona smiled. “I’m fine. Just a little tired from arguing with Lord Whitmore.”

From fruitlessly wishing she could allow him closer.

Mairead sat in one of the chairs with a
plump
. “The tall one.”

“Yes. The tall one. The male tall one.”

She actually got a grin out of her sister. “I think he likes you. He kept smiling.”

Fiona almost hid behind her cloth again. Oh God, that was the last idea she needed to get stuck in her sister’s head. Mairead wasn’t merely brilliant and quirky. She was relentless. If that idea took root, she would worry it until it lay in shreds at her feet. She certainly didn’t need to know that Fiona’s fingers still tingled from their contact with Alex’s hand. She didn’t need to sense the grinding disappointment that followed his exit.

Fiona sat all the way up, trying her best to hide the pain that pounded through her skull. She was nauseated with it, and that always upset Mairead. Mairead needed to know that there was a solution to every difficulty. So far neither of them had come up with one for Fiona’s headaches.

“Lord Whitmore feels proprietary toward me,” Fiona explained, deliberately laying her hands in her lap. Rubbing at her forehead would distress Mairead all over again. “Remember, he was the one who first brought me to Hawesworth.”

Mairead thought about that a moment. “I miss my telescope.”

“I know, dear.”

“And the library.” Abruptly, Mairead sat next to Fee, jostling the couch and Fiona’s head. “Oh, Fee, do you think we’ll ever find another library like it? Who knew that the inclination toward the stars could run in a family? I actually held a copy of Bayer’s
Uranometria
.” She shook her head in wonder. “Imagine. Me, holding a star chart from 1603 in my very hands. All the stars given the names we now call them.”

Fiona’s heart melted at the longing in her sister’s eyes. “I know, sweetheart. It was such a discovery. And you were the one who unearthed it.”

Mairead scowled. “Who would ever think to pile dozens of agriculture magazines on top of it? Treatises on dirt, when the heavens lay beneath.”

Fiona’s heart seized. She so wanted Mairead to have everything she wanted. She wished with all her heart she could return her to her telescope and library. But Fiona suspected she had poisoned that dream. When her grandfather had informed her of the eviction, she had finally informed him of her opinion of him.

“You could go back, Mae Mae,” she ventured. “You got along just fine before I got there.”

Her sister was already shaking her head with a violent force that made Fiona wince. “Absurd notion, Fee.
Absurd.
After the things that nasty old man said about you? I would sooner spit in his soup.”

Fiona had to smile.
Oh, Mairead. You valiant girl.

Was she wrong? Fiona wondered. Was she needlessly keeping Mairead from comfort and companionship? Did they always have to rely only on themselves?

She closed her eyes against the scrape and weight of old pain. Yes. They did. She had tried so often to rely on others, making the mistake of hoping that this time things would change. And every time she had been cut loose and left drifting. Better to never be disappointed again. No one knew what was better for Mairead than she did. No one loved her acerbic, brilliant, frustrating sister as much as she.

“We don’t have to go with strangers again, do we, Fee?” Mairead asked, her voice unbearably small.

Fiona wrapped her arms around her sister. “We do not, sweetheart. We will live here, teach children, and save up our computing fees so we can buy a real telescope. We can set it up in the back garden and watch for comets, like Caroline and William.”

Fiona regretted mentioning the names the minute she did it. Mairead’s head came up with a snap and her eyes flashed. “You promised,” she accused. “You promised that we would live near them. That we could visit and talk and maybe, if we were very lucky, use their twenty-inch telescope. We could even help them grind lenses. We got very good, didn’t we? It is my dream, Fee. You know that. To sit at the feet of William and Caroline Herschel. To help. To add my name to theirs in the rolls of history.”

Fiona finally gave up and rubbed at her temple. “We’ve spoken of this, sweetheart. The Hershels live twenty-five miles away. We have to live here, where we can support ourselves. We were very lucky to have a friend as generous as Margaret.”

Alex Knight could get you to the Herschels’ home in Slough
, temptation whispered.

Mairead was scowling and picking at a loose thread in the pillow. “We could find a school to teach at near Caroline.”

“We could. In time. But for right now, we should be happy to exchange correspondence with Caroline as we take advantage of our location. Don’t you think?”

But Mairead wasn’t pacified. “We could if Mr. Pond let me on the great refractor.”

“Chuffy said he would be happy to come back and speak to Mr. Pond with you.” Fiona paused, trying to decide how to bring up the next important topic. She finally gave up and just asked. “You seemed to like him very much, Mae Mae. Chuffy, I mean. Do you want to go with him to the observatory?”

Fiona wasn’t sure what reaction she expected from Mairead. What she got was a considered frown, which was unusual. Mairead made up her mind in a blink and then refused to change it. The fact that she was debating something made Fiona uneasy.