Desperate and Daring 01 - Desperate and Daring (16 page)

“No, well, perhaps, but someone different than all these worthless men… someone alive inside.” Lucy gestured to the room at large.

Heather didn’t know what to say. Fallon returned with the lemonade and Lucy took it with thanks and gulped it down. “Oh, no,” she said abruptly.

As if summoned from thin air, her brother appeared. “I’ve told you repeatedly, you can’t handle your drinks. Mother will have a fit if she sees you like this.”

“Mother will have a fit when I tarnish the floor.”

“Bloody hell.” He yanked up by her arm and headed for the terrace doors.

Heather and Fallon shared a look of concern before following. They hesitated at the doors. The cold air was a crisp relief. Lucy was bent over some bushes, and Rigsby was patting her back.

“Poor thing,” Heather murmured.

“It was her own doing.” Fallon chuckled. “Come now, I believe this is my dance.” He pulled her away from the doors, and onto the dance floor. It was a waltz. He slid his hand to her back and enveloped her other hand with his. “I made a special request.”

The music began and Heather couldn’t breathe. He began to move them, a slow revolution to a haunting melody of which only she knew the meaning. She was going to cry, she was sure of it. Here, in front of everyone, and it felt like every eye in the room was upon them, but at the same time, she felt they were alone. Only they knew the importance of the music, of everything that it meant. She blinked away thick tears and smiled at him. There was a swelling of joy in her heart, a profound sense of completion. Somehow, in searching for a way to rescue her family, she found him, or perhaps he found her, but either way, there was completeness now. No matter what tragedies came, or minor misfortune, he would be her constant—he would be her anchor. She loved him, all of a sudden she knew it with everything in her—she loved him. Not because of his title, or because he saved them from her father’s debilitating debts, but because of this moment, and every moment he seemed to create just for her. For his understanding, his acceptance, and the way he just knew her… he just knew everything that she was, more so than she.

Fallon couldn’t look away from her. She glowed. Little tears sparkled in her lashes like diamonds, though she tried to blink them away. They were tears of joy, he knew, joy he felt as well. He underestimated the effect of his little surprise, even on himself. Holding her now as the music transported them, blocking out everyone around them, he had to resist pulling her closer. Only he understood what it meant to her—meant to them. This music encapsulated all that was between them, and all that could be. A fantasy no more, a reality—their reality and it was only limited by time. There would never be enough time, enough holding and kissing, enough lovemaking for a lifetime. Love. Invisible sparks showered over his skin. It was illuminating. Love—he’d never considered love. He loved Heather. Like seeing lightning strike the ground, it was startling and awe-inspiring. From this moment on, he would never be the same. It was as certain as his next breath, his next turn. He loved her, and the more he thought about it, the more he realized he’d probably loved her since the moment he set eyes on her—hell, since the moment he read her letter.

The music came to a close and they whirled to a halt. Fallon couldn’t let her go. There was no possibility. He’d give anything to be alone with her right now. He settled for resting her hand on his arm and covering it with his. Her eyes were still sparkling at him, looking at him with such wonder. The urge to kiss her was overwhelming.

“Perhaps we should check on Lady Lucy?” he said aloud.

Heather nodded. He took her to the doors, closed once again. He pulled one open and handed her through. He closed the door behind them. Lucy and Rigsby were not in sight, and he didn’t expect them to be.

“This way.” He took her hand and pulled her away from the doors, to a shadowed corner of the terrace.

“Fallon, I think they’ve returned to the ballroom,” Heather spoke.

“I don’t care where they’ve gone as long as they are not here. I need to kiss you.” He pulled her close.

“Oh,” Heather said in surprise, and then she stepped into him. “I need to kiss you, too.” She reached up to pull his head to hers and hungry lips met. It was a desperate and daring kiss, their time dwindling by the second. As soon as it began, it had to be over and they pulled away. Clouds of breath filled the air between them. Heather was warm despite the frigid air, her heart pounding with want. “Are you staying here tonight?” she queried unexpectedly.

“No, but I will be here until every last guest leaves, perhaps longer.” One side of his mouth curved up. “Why?”

Heather licked her lips. “Come to my room.”

He stiffened. The wall of his chest under her hands turning to stone and the swell of his manhood was suddenly very apparent. “Heather…”

“Fallon…” she returned cheekily.

“Believe me when I say I want nothing more than to do exactly that, but we mustn’t. I already put your family at risk with my antics at the house party. I will not be the cause of more rumors.”

“But—”

“No, little flower—God, I’m as daft as a one-eyed chicken, how could I say no?” he groaned.

Heather laughed. “Then you will?”

He shook his head. “No. On our wedding night, I will lay you down on our marriage bed, and then we will have our fill.”

Heather released a heavy sigh. She was burning for him. “Why must you be so respectable?”

He chuckled and turned her back towards the doors. “I’m suffering too, Heather, but our patience will have its rewards.”

The weather was warming. Heather and her sisters gladly took to the park to feel the warmth of the blooming spring sun and fresh air. The park was full of likeminded others, all looking for some light exercise and an opportunity to be seen. The season was well under way, the streets filled with carriages, and sidewalks crowded with bobbing bonnets as the women shopped for fripperies and the men took to their clubs.

Prim had brought a kite, another gift from Fallon, and Violet was petitioning for a turn. Heather watched them with amusement as their mother looked on and chatted with the other matrons parked along the road while their children socialized.

“Let me show you, Prim. I’m a master kite flyer,” Violet argued.

“You haven’t flown a kite before either. How are you a master flyer?” Prim retorted.

“It’s a natural talent, I assure you.”

Prim glared at her sister. “If you break my kite, I will have you drawn and quartered.” She handed over the spool unenthusiastically.

Violet grinned at her. “I commend your imagination. I swear I won’t break it.” Violet took the spool eagerly and whooped as she ran with it. The kite arced and dived erratically, zipping through the air like a bird fighting against a tether.

Heather called out to her sister, reminding her that she should not be running amok in a public park. Violet slowed reluctantly and strolled back with a pout.

“You’ve given it too much string,” Prim directed.

Violet ignored her. The kite had settled and floated majestically far above them. “I told you I was better at it than you.

“Then get your own kite,” Prim bit off.

“I like this one. It has fetching red ribbons.”

“Ablehill gave it to me and I want it back.” Prim tried to snatch the spool form Violet’s hands. Violet jerked it out of reach.

“I’m not finished, Prim. Don’t be impertinent.”

“You’re going to break it. Give it back,” Prim urged.

“Violet, Prim, please remember your surroundings and behave accordingly,” Heather admonished.

“She’s going to break it!” Prim cried.

Heather sighed wearily. “Violet, give it back. You’ve had your turn.”

Violet pursed her lips. “Fine.” She pushed the spool into Prim’s hands angrily. The kite arced and dove, heading straight for a group of gentlemen.

The kite pegged one gentleman straight in the back of the head and the girls froze. The gentleman was not felled by the kite, thankfully, but he did grab the back of his head and then bent to pick up the offending kite. He picked up the string and followed it all the way back to the trio of guilty statues.

Prim abruptly shoved the spool back in Violet’s arms as the gentleman strolled over.

“I believe this belongs to you?”

“Please accept our sincerest apology,” Heather spoke up. “It’s the first time we’ve flown a kite.”

He looked at them peculiarly, his eyes touching on them one at a time. “Apology accepted, though I wish to hear it from the guilty party.

Prim looked to Violet. “She did it.”

“I did not. I gave it back to you,” Violet hissed.

“You thrust it at me. I had no control of it.”

“Exactly, you were the last to touch it.”

Prim turned a bright shade of red as she glared hatred at her sister and tears began to pool in her eyes.

Violet sighed in defeat. “It was me, my lord. I hit you with the kite, albeit accidentally.” She looked up at him. “I’m sorry.”

He smiled at her. “Apology accepted.”

Heather watched as a strange change came over Violet. Violet gave him a coy smile. She blushed prettily and then looked away demurely.

Well done
, Heather thought. She inspected the gentleman more carefully. His hair was unfashionably long and unkempt, almost as if his only care to it had been to run his fingers through it after climbing out of bed. His clothes, on the other hand, were of exceptional quality. He looked to be a disreputable young lord. A rake, who was now eyeing her sister with interest.

“Thank you for being so gracious—”

He put a hand up to silence her. Heather stiffened.

“I change my mind. I challenge you to a duel. He flamboyantly removed his glove and threw it to the ground. “I demand to know the name of my opponent.”

“Oh, dear.” Heather panicked.

Violet straightened confidently. “Miss Violet Everly.”

“Name your second, Miss Everly.” His lips twitched.

“Miss Primrose Everly.” Violet absently waved at her sister.

“You surprise me.” He briefly looked in Heather’s direction.

“She will wed the duke of Ablehill in two weeks. Dueling is beneath duchesses.” This was followed by laughter. Heather was startled to see his group of friends was now joining them. This was getting far out of hand.

“My congratulations.” He nodded to Heather.

“And may I know the name of my opponent?” Violet boldly asked.

“Violet!” Heather whispered angrily. The gentleman was clearly having fun at their expense, but things were bordering on scandalous.

He bowed and rose. “Lord Weirick Andrews, at your service.”

“Thank you for your gracious understanding,” Heather rushed to say, “but we must be going.”

“Pity that.” He handed the kite to Violet. “I look forward to our duel.” He winked at her.”

Heather pulled Violet and Prim away by the elbows. Violet kept stealing looks back. They reached the landau and Heather looked back to see that the mysterious Lord Andrews was still watching them.

“Well done, Violet. Now all of London will know you are a coquette.”

“I am not,” Violet denied.

“What’s this about coquettes?” Their mother asked with a frown.

“I’m dreading her come out. You should have seen how she encouraged him. He challenged her to a duel just so he could learn her name.” Heather fumed as she plopped into her seat and twitched her skirts into place.

Lady Everly pinned Violet with a stern glare. “Just what was this gentleman’s name?”

“Lord Weirick Andrews,” Violet answered cheerfully.

“Well, I’m not familiar with that name. We shall look him up and see if he is worth dueling with.”

“He’s still watching us.” Prim giggled.

“Ignore him. Clever gentlemen love a challenge.” Lady Everly smiled as she turned her back to him, urging Prim, and especially Violet, to do the same.

Heather rolled her eyes in exasperation.

“Lady Everly.” A voice called out. They looked at each other in confusion and then at their surroundings. A gentleman was striding across the lawn, adamantly waving at them in an obscene manner. Heather wished they could be on their way, but the street was crowded and there was no avenue for a quick escape.

He was breathing hard when he reached them. Leaning on the side of the landau to catch his breath before he spoke, Violet slid away from him in distaste.

“Lady Everly, I wish to speak with you about a grave matter.”

“Sir, accosting us in the park is hardly the way to go about it,” Lady Everly said sternly.

“My apologies, but I thought you should know post haste that your daughters marriage to the duke of Ablehill is an unwise endeavor for he is not who he claims to be.”

Heather felt a cold unease wash over her. Her mother looked fit to box the man’s ears.

“Sir, I suggest you take it up with the duke himself. Driver, we must leave at once,” she barked. The driver snapped the reins and the landau lurched. It was a jerky and perilous exodus, but they escaped the park unscathed.

They disembarked quickly once they reached the townhouse and Lady Everly instructed Cantour to send for Mr. Faegan and his grace. Mr. Faegan was in residence, so Cantour had him in the drawing room in the blink of an eye. Heather hadn’t said one word. All she could think of was the moment she had found out he was a duke and not Mr. Calder. The anger, the humiliation, and the terrifying uncertainty. She couldn’t do it again. She had given her heart to him.

“What does this mean?” Violet asked timidly.

“It means nothing until we speak with Mr. Faegan,” Lady Everly assured. “Take Heather to her room, she’s upset.”

“My lady?” Faegan arrived in the hall.

“I must speak with you urgently, Mr. Faegan. Cantour, a pot of tea, please.”

“Yes, my lady.” Cantour moved along and Violet tried to tug Heather up the stairs.

“No. I need to hear what he has to say,” Heather said defiantly.

Violet stared at her, and then nodded. “The music room.”

Heather followed Violet to the music room where she was surprised to learn there was a connecting door. Violet opened it just a hair, but her mother’s alarmed voice could be easily heard.