Desperate and Daring 01 - Desperate and Daring (11 page)

“Self-protection. I couldn’t very well introduce myself as the duke after one day as Mr. Calder. I was raised as an outcast, an unwanted waste of a boy that my father determined to useless to live. Everything I am is against this sort of privileged existence. I feel privileged just to live. I am more Mr. Calder than I am a duke. I am just a man with an oppressive title and heaps of money that I would dearly love to shower on you and your family. Please let me, Heather. Let me be with you as the man I am. I promise the scandal and the whispers will pale in comparison to the joy we will have together. I will give you everything that is in me if only you will be my wife.”

“You made a fool of me, Fallon. In front of everyone here.”

“Do you care for their opinion that much? I assure you, as the Duchess of Ablehill, you will not, and they dare not speak an ill word against you. I will always protect you.”

Heather shivered. She wrapped her arms around herself and looked around the room. She could not wrap her head around everything she was feeling. Everyone would expect her to just accept her good fortune and move on, her mother included, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t let go of the pain in her heart, the anger that rose every time she looked at him. This was her Fallon, and yet not. She felt like she didn’t know him anymore, the last few days just an extension of the wool he had pulled over her and everyone else’s eyes. Worst of all, there was nothing she could do about it. She longed to throw all his promises back in his face. Surely, they were as false as the character he had played? How could she marry such a man? Did she even have a choice anymore?

She could feel his presence behind her like a looming shadow. He remained perfectly still, the tension as tight as the strings on a harp.

“Will you still marry me, Heather?”

She felt the barest touch of his hand on her back as he stepped around to face her. Heather kept her head down, frustrated and angry tears colliding in her lashes. He touched her chin and forced her to look up at him. “Will you be my wife?” he said tenderly.

“I don’t have a choice, do I? We’ve spent hours alone together, we’ve—” She swallowed a rise of emotion, her throat stinging.

“I confess that was an oversight on my part. I can’t think straight when I’m around you. Tell me I haven’t ruined everything we’ve shared. Tell me you will be my wife.”

Heather wanted to sob out the pain in her heart. Instead, she took a deep breath. “You’ve ruined me. I have to consent to be your wife for the sake of my family’s honor.”

His brow furrowed in distaste. “That was not the response I was looking for.”

Heather shrugged weakly. “It’s all you’re going to get from me.”

He growled and turned away then spun around and glared at her. “Don’t play the martyr. Am I really such a bad bargain? A duke over a steward?”

“It isn’t about station, Fallon. It’s about trust. You lied so easily and thoroughly. You made me believe things. You made me fall in love with someone who doesn’t exist.”

“I do exist,” he shouted abruptly. He looked stunned by his own words. His hands shook as he curled them into fists, and then forced them to open again.

Heather could visibly see him rein in his temper. She felt a pang of guilt but buried it beneath her own fury. She was surprised by her own admission. She hadn’t thought she could fall in love, but there it was. The words had sprung from her of their own accord. And what more, he had bared a little of his own pain for the briefest of moments.

“My apologies,” he said once again calm and in control. “I am the same man, Heather. You will see that in time. I understand that you are upset and will allow you the time you need to come to terms with it, but we shall move to London immediately, your mother and sisters included, to head off the rumor mill. We shall make my presence and our betrothal known before the gossip mongers can get ahold of any whispers from the other guests.

Heather nodded. He was silent, and then he stepped before her again. He brought a hand to her cheek as gentle as a butterfly touching down on a flower. “Should we seal our betrothal with a kiss?”

Heather didn’t respond. He dipped his head and brushed his lips across hers. She almost cried out in agony. She wanted to feel what she always felt before. Instead, she felt more anger. Her lips held rigidly closed as he sighed and pulled away in defeat.

“You will forgive me someday. The sooner you do, the sooner we can enjoy what we had before.”

Heather wished that could be true. She left him standing in the middle of the room and didn’t utter another word.

Fallon could sum up their return to London in one word. Frigid. Heather hadn’t said a single word to him, Lady Everly had given up attempts at conversation minutes into the journey, and Heather’s sisters had sat in awkward silence sharing wide-eyed glances in some sort of nonverbal sisterly communication. They arrived at the townhouse and after tense introductions to the butler, Cantour, and a handful of other staff, they were shown to the drawing room where they would be served a late lunch.

Lady Everly and Fallon discussed their arrangements deciding that Fallon could not remain in the house. That suited Fallon just fine. He sent Faegan to reserve him rooms at the Fairmont Hotel, the newest luxury hotel in London. Word would spread quickly that there was a new Duke of Ablehill, especially with the added crumb of his engagement. In Lady Everly’s opinion, the only way to minimize the scandal was to control it from the beginning.

“It would be best to go for a drive in the park, and perhaps you and Heather could stroll along the serpentine while the girls and I wait in the carriage and talk with the other matrons along the line.

“Oh, joy,” Violet mumbled.

“You are welcome to join us, Vi,” Heather said quietly.

“No, she isn’t. You two must be seen as a couple,” her mother quickly injected.

Violet slumped. Heather resisted the urge to do the same. She copiously avoided looking at Fallon or meeting his gaze. He hadn’t tried to speak with her, which was a godsend.

“We will need to visit a modesty as soon as possible to repair our wardrobe, you as well.” She gestured to Fallon. He looked down at his clothing.

“Yes,” Lady Everly continued, “it is perfectly serviceable clothing, but you should dress befitting your station. We cannot have anyone doubting that you are the new duke.”

“I will send Faegan out again as soon as he returns to book appointments for you,” he gestured to all of them, “and myself this very afternoon. My title should be good for something.”

Heather bit her lip. She wanted to say something cutting, but refrained. Cantour arrived and announced that their rooms were ready. The ladies departed, and Fallon was directed to the Study.

He entered slowly as Cantour asked if there was anything else he needed. Fallon sent him away and looked around the Study with a feeling of repulsion. He had never set foot in this house before now, but somehow, everything reminded him of his father. Even standing on the carpet felt as intimate as touching the man himself and Fallon wanted no part of it. He walked further into the room, a large and masculine place, all browns and greens and burgundies. The chairs were large and thickly cushioned leather. The backs were tall. The fireplace was also giant, large enough for a small adult to walk into. The windows were shrouded in curtains leaving the space dark and moody. Fallon strolled to the window and pulled them back. Not a speck of dust or time touched anything. Everything was exceptionally cleaned and cared for. The result of excellent staff.

Fallon looked over the room under the new light. It was certainly less daunting with the touch of sunlight. He still hated the room, but he found the resolve to sit in the chair behind the desk and to begin rummaging through the drawers for ink and paper.

*

Heather sat beside Fallon in an open landau. Bundled against the chill and laps covered with blankets, the five passengers sat in silent awkwardness as they rolled towards Hyde Park.

Violet rolled her eyes and huffed.

“Speak your peace, Miss Violet,” Fallon chuckled. He was determined to break down all the barriers of his soon to be family. Hopefully, that would him help reach Heather.

“This seems a bit moronic.” Violet shivered. “It’s too cold to be out like this for the sake of being seen.”

“I agree,” Prim said mutinously.

“Such delicate little flowers. Shall we put the top up?” Fallon teased.

“Let’s return home,” Prim begged.

Fallon looked around the group of ladies. Heather may as well have been carved from stone, Lady Everly looked as rigid as an icicle, and the younger Everly’s looked fit to freeze, even if only for dramatic effect.

“What would you like to do, Miss Everly? Shall we abandon the park?”

Heather only shrugged.

Fallon withheld a beleaguered sigh. “You know, where I live in Scotland, it gets so cold that a bubble will freeze in the air.”

“That’s preposterous!” Prim giggled.

“Are you calling me a liar?” Fallon said in mock anger.

“I will believe it when I see it.”

“I swear here and now that I will show you a bubble can freeze in midair, Miss Prim.

“Where do you live?” Violet asked.

“About a day’s ride out of Aberdeen.”

“What’s it like?” Prim asked with excitement.

“It’s a tad medieval. For a boy growing up, its paradise.”

“You grew up in Scotland?” This from Lady Everly.

Fallon smiled, he felt the touch of Heather’s eyes on his face, but he didn’t look her way. “Up until the moment I entered England to attend the Endervale house party. I’ve never had a reason to leave until now.” That was met with silence.

“But you don’t have a Scottish burr?” Violet said skeptically.

Fallon grinned, and in the comforting burr that was so natural to him, he replied, “I had a very English tutor.”

There were gasps of delight from the younger Everly’s.

“It will be up to us to show his grace the delights of London. Where should we begin?” Lady Everly smiled.

“Gunter’s,” Violet decreed

“It’s too cold for ices,” Prim argued.

“But not for tea and scones, and we will be seen.”

“That is a wonderful idea, Violet,” Lady Everly agreed. “Driver? Take us to Gunter’s.”

The younger Everly’s clapped in approval as the Landau changed direction. Fallon glanced at Heather from the corner of his eye, but she was studiously looking the opposite direction. A thick blanket covered her legs and kept them from touching. As the Landau turned a corner, Fallon pressed his thigh against hers.

“My apologies.” He smiled at her when she sharply turned to look at him. He retreated, giving her space as she turned away from him again. He almost sighed in defeat, but upon closer inspection, he saw the chase of red up her neck and ears. So she wasn’t immune to him. He had something on which to rebuild their relationship.

They arrived at Berkeley square and entered Gunter’s Tea Shop. The aroma of sweets filled the air inviting one in further. Fallon was eager for the new experience until he saw the breadth of patrons all turning to look at the new arrivals. Conversation ceased and then started again fevered with interest. A passing waiter directed them to an open table and Fallon chose to sit with his back to the room at large. Heather took the seat he held for her beside him without argument, and he wondered how much effort that took her. She looked content, but far from inviting of his attention. Lady and the younger Everly’s were talking excitedly about the patrons taking great notice of their entrance.

Fallon took a deep breath. He wasn’t used to this kind of attention. He usually spent his days surrounded by the same ten people, people who were like family, like surrogate parents. He did his best to adopt a bored mien, but he could already feel an uncomfortable heat spreading up his neck. The waiter came to serve them, and Lady Everly requested tea for all.

“I’d like to try one of your famous ices.”

“Very good, sir.” The waiter bowed and departed.

Fallon exhaled. He kept his sweating palms pressed against his thighs.

Heather leaned close and whispered to him, “Is something the matter?”

Fallon was surprised. He hesitantly met her eyes. “I… I’ve never been one to garner much attention. It’s a little disconcerting.” He thought he saw a flicker of sympathy in her eyes, but he couldn’t be sure.

“I see. You’ve already proven your acting skills. Just think of this as another roll to play.”

He frowned, taken aback. She turned her attention to her sisters and completely dismissed him. Did she really think he had been acting? Well, he had pretended to be a steward for the sake of anonymity, but his words, his desires—those were genuine. The thrust of her words went deep. It took him a moment to gather his wits. It was glaringly obvious now how little she really knew him, and perhaps that was the crux of the issue. She didn’t know him, and he didn’t know her. What they had felt before was its own thing, an uncontrollable spark between them. The reality was they were little more than strangers. At that moment, he made it his mission to change that. It wouldn’t be easy, since she was determined to play the martyr, but he would wear her down any way he could.

The tea arrived along with his ice. He sampled the cold delicacy amid stares and smiled in approval. “Lemon heaven on a spoon,” he declared.

He heard the murmur of patrons around him agree with his assessment. A lady approached with her daughter in tow and Fallon stood. Lady Everly introduced him.

“Lady Goodwich, so wonderful to see you. May I introduce his grace, the Eighth
Duke of Ablehill.”

“A pleasure, your grace. I present my daughter.” Both mother and daughter curtsied.

Fallon bowed his head to each of them. “The pleasure is mine.”

“We won’t keep you from your tea. I only wanted to say how wonderful it is to see your return to town, Lady Everly.” Lady Goodwich smiled to the girls, her gaze lingering on Heather and then Fallon. She departed and again, all eyes were on their table. Fallon resumed his seat.

“Your name will be all over London within the hour,” Violet announced.

“I beg your pardon?” Fallon said in puzzlement.

“Lady Goodwich is very kind, but she does lack circumspection with her words,” Lady Everly clarified.

“I’m missing something, aren’t I?” He turned to Heather in desperation.

“Her mouth is like a runaway carriage. It careens through the streets spilling gossip like baggage.”

“Ah, I understand now.”

She turned back to her tea, taking her attention away like a bone from a naughty dog. She would probably like that analogy, him being cast as the dog. He desperately wished she would smile at him again. It would be his goal for the immediate future.

They finished their tea and left Gunter’s. They rode back to the townhouse in companionable silence, this time with the top up. Fallon had an appointment with a tailor that evening. He promised he would be back before dinner. This was met with kind smiles from three of the Everly’s. Heather completely ignored him. He left feeling as vulnerable as he had as a boy, ignored by the one person he wanted most.