Born of Persuasion (39 page)

“Sit, child.” She nodded to the ace I’d backed after drawing the queen as the loser. “You’re only doing what you must. ’Tis good practice for you. He shouldn’t even be here, and we both know it. Besides, I suspect you have a rather good reason for remaining.”

Elizabeth paused, her heavy breathing emphasizing her collarbones. It seemed to me she was praying I would shove aside all bets and seek out Edward. Instead, I sank against my chair and waited for her to draw the next card.

“King wins,” Lady Foxmore said. “Place your new bets.”

I slid four halfpence back to the ace and looked toward the window, where grey clouds gathered.

Throughout that long day, I carefully studied each face, servants’ and masters’, trying to gauge who heard the gossip. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could operate under such strain and continue to act normal. The thought makes me laugh now, for I’ve since learned the immense amount of stress beneath which the elite not only endure, but also perform.

Maintaining our nightly custom, we met in the drawing room after dinner. Though she appeared weary of my company, I affixed myself to Elizabeth, resting my head on her shoulder, watching the rain rattle the windows.

Henry recited poetry to Elizabeth, thankfully from a book, while Edward worked on a sermon, his eye travelling between the clock and myself, as if to ensure a midnight departure. More than once, he tried to meet my eye, but I refused.

Rooke remained nearby, pretending to nap, but I had the impression he was keeping watch.

It was well past ten when Reynolds entered. My body felt thick as honey as sleepiness weighted my limbs.

He returned a book to the shelf and collected dishes. I shot him a questioning look. He retrieved a carved wooden box with a dome lid and opened it, revealing cigars. He tucked the item under his arm and left the room.

Understanding his meaning, I sat straight. Mr. Macy had returned.

I jumped from my seat and started toward the door.

“My heavens, Julia, are you suddenly ill?” Mrs. Windham asked.

“I’m fine. It’s only that I am tired and can hardly keep my eyes open.” I dipped to her ladyship, then left the chamber before Edward could rise from his chair, and hurried after Reynolds.

REYNOLDS TAPPED the study door and then stepped away. It burst open and Mr. Macy’s eyes roamed the darkness until they settled on me. With a nod to Reynolds, he pulled me inside and slammed the door. The first night we’d met, he’d been Morpheus, the god of dreams, once more giving his bad tidings to mortals. That night, however, he could have passed for a highwayman. Muddy boots lay in a corner. A dripping, but expensive, frock coat was slung over the desk chair. His evening shirt was soaked and clung to his chest.

He pulled me close and buried his face in my neck. His unshaven chin rasped my skin. Breathing in the scent of my hair, he enclosed me in his arms. “Julia.”

Though a chill clung to his wet clothing, permeating my dress, I sank against him, relieved. My grief over Edward had created a niggling fear that I might no longer feel an attraction toward Mr. Macy. That fear was vain.

He was as captivating as ever, and as his mouth met mine, all shyness left. Here I found the assurance I sought. I grasped
his sleeves as his arms slid around my waist; then, grateful he wasn’t angry, I ran fingers through his dripping hair.

“What’s this?” He chuckled, withdrawing. His forelock fell over his eye, adding to his appeal. “No blushes?” He kissed my shoulder, moving downwards. “How far will you allow my advances?”

Here, I pushed away.

“Somehow, I doubted you had lost your demureness that easily. No retreating.” But with a chuckle, he released and went to the fire where he added a log. “I’ve thought of little else except you for these three days. I rode hours ahead of John, nearly breaking my neck. You can’t possibly fathom my pleasure in seeing you.”

Unable to ascertain whether he’d learned Edward was here or not, I moved to the couch and stiffly sat on its arm.

He turned, studying me. “Most men fear that if they wed, their wives will never cease their chatter.” He joined me, then pulled me from my perch into his lap. “I’ve yet to hear a word from you.”

Having no desire to speak, I curled against him.

He accepted me and twirled a lock of my hair between his fingers. “I wish I had more leisure, dearest, but I’ve never allowed this much time to pass before learning what happened during my absence.” With a swift movement, he pushed me from his lap and faced me. “Let’s set a new precedent. I’ll hear from you first.”

I settled against the couch. So he didn’t know about Edward. I drew up my feet and searched the room as though an answer would be written on the wall for me.

“Uh-oh. There’s a guilty look if I’ve ever seen one.” He reached for the brandy behind us. “Did you break something, darling? You needn’t feel alarmed.”

A sickening feeling rushed over my stomach as I imagined him hearing of Edward’s and my kiss.

He dropped the glass stopper back in the bottle’s neck. “What? What happened?”

“Well . . .” I entwined my fingers, knowing the only way out of this mess was straight through it. “First, Edward arrived—”

“Edward? I know scores of Edwards. Be specific.”

“I meant Reverend Auburn.”

He elevated his eyebrows. “Ahh. Look at me, dear.” When I did, he sank against the corner of the couch with a ghost of a smile, laying his arm over the top. “Is this Adelia’s vicar, the one you might have met
once or twice
?”

Though I wanted to nod to confirm it, my body felt frozen.

“Never mind. Everything about your countenance confirms it. Well, how did he take the news of our attachment?”

I dropped my gaze and studied the pattern on the rug as intently as I’d ever studied a carpet.

“You know, dearest, you are a very easy read. Tell me?”

I swallowed. “I think he came because of me.”

He inclined forward and raised my chin with his finger. “No, there’s more than that lurking in your expression. What else?”

Wildly, I sought for something half-truthful. “Well . . . I allowed him to kiss me.”

He leaned until his head rested on my shoulder, then shook it with a laugh. “Sweetheart, that’s cruel. You only give him false hope.”

“You’re not upset?”

“No, darling.” He tangled his fingers in my hair. “Though I’m less inclined to leave you unattended in the future. With all your blushes, you didn’t strike me as one to take amusement in sporting with someone’s affections, much less a vicar.” He backed away and considered me. “Was I selfish with my timing? Perhaps you need to break a heart or two in order to be content in marriage.”

I started to explain, but he drew my wrist to his lips and kissed it.

“No words are necessary. Disappoint him gently if you wish, but not so gently that it never gets accomplished. If you lose control of the situation, alert me and I’ll assist. Did anything else happen?”

I tried not to look as amazed as I felt. Was that all he was going to say? Yet I knew Rooke might still make a nuisance. He’d witnessed it and knew it had been far more than an innocent peck. “Rooke took it upon himself to follow me today, to keep watch.”

“Rooke?” Macy poured a brandy. “I’ll speak with him. Is that all, then?”

I shook my head at how easily my duplicity had been skipped over. “Mr. Forrester insulted me.”

Mr. Macy rose menacingly. “He did what?”

“He told Edward I was—” I blushed in light of our previous conversation—“I was an unchaste coquette.”

His lips thinned. “I swear to you, he’ll rue the slur. Who stood up for you?”

I dropped my eyes. “Edward. I believe he boxed him, for his lip is injured. Edward wouldn’t allow him to rejoin our party until he apologized.”

“Does that mean Robert actually apologized?” Mr. Macy sounded incredulous as he dropped into his seat. “How long did it take?”

I shrugged. “A full day.” During dinner that evening, Forrester had entered with a cut and swollen lip. With his back turned toward Edward, he bowed to me, his face sneering. When he’d apologized, he looked over his shoulder and asked if Edward was satisfied.

Mr. Macy laughed and shook his head. “Well, at least you prey on deserving men. I’ll take care of Robert, too, though I’ll spare you the details. Is there anything else?”

“Yes.” I felt sullen and looked away.

“Is there no end? I’m beginning to wish for a wife who will talk my ear off, have it out at once. What else, darling?”

“The servants are gossiping about us spending our nights together.”

He appeared too stunned to speak.

“Except they’re not saying we’re meeting. . . . They’re saying . . .” I closed my eyes, too flustered to say the word
bed
, uncertain what other terms there were for it. “Mr. Forrester’s servant started the rumor.”

“How the devil does he know?”

I shivered at the fury in Mr. Macy’s voice. “Could it have been Reynolds—?”

“No, that much I am certain of.” He pulled a cheroot from the box. Near the hearth, he lit it. Several minutes passed as he considered the news.

“Should I leave, perhaps?” I finally asked, feeling lost.

He broke from his thoughts and tossed his cigar into the fire. “Did you think I’d forgotten you?” He smiled. “Sorry, dearest. It’s good I returned. It seems there’s a deficiency in my household.” He walked over and pulled me to my feet. “I think it’s best to end our time early. I need to talk to others. I’m taking you to your room. Do not leave it tonight, under any circumstances.”

“Allow me to remain with you instead?”

His face softened. “No, you wouldn’t enjoy my methods of shaking my household. I need to learn how far the rumor has circulated. If it reached the village, your guard—” He stopped when I clutched him, then ushered me to the door. “Turn from fear. You are under my care.”

With a firm grip and swift pace, he escorted me to my chamber. Inside my room, he closed every shutter and checked the locks on every casement, then inspected the hinges on my door.

“There’s no need for alarm,” he said when he’d finished, wiping his hands. “I’m just not taking any chances.” At the door, he kissed me with a succession of small kisses until I’d almost forgotten he was leaving. “Later,” he promised. Using his own key, he locked me inside.

I sat on the hearth and allowed the cool, hard stones to sober me from the inebriety his touch had caused. I hugged myself, amazed that everything had just been solved. My full confidence in Mr. Macy was restored and unwavering.

He was enthralling not only because of his uncommon appearance, but because he held his fate in his own hands. It is only upon meeting a man who rules his own destiny that one realizes how rare such men are.

Mr. Macy was my first and last.

How shall mankind, which is lost and stumbling, not be drawn to someone who knows his path? Who understands his way, without questions but with decisiveness?

What had I to fear from my guardian? Or from my future?

My only dread now was the moment when Edward would learn of our betrothal. The notion of writing him a letter appealed to me; that way I could word it exactly right. But my earlier anxiety left me feeling spent, and though I doubted I could sleep, my head felt too weighted to write. I stretched out over the grouping of furniture nearest the fire and closed my eyes, listening to the fire hiss and pop.