Desperate and Daring 01 - Desperate and Daring (3 page)

She was curious to peek at what he was writing. This was the most awkward, humiliating, and sad day of her life. Heather supposed she should be grateful that things were moving forward despite the duke not being present. Perhaps Mr. Calder would be easier to convince than an elderly man with a reputation of being terrifying.

“Have you any deformities?”

“No,” she answered quietly.

“All your teeth?”

She smiled in answer. He looked up and then nodded, immediately returning his attention to his notes.

“You’ve a beautiful smile, Miss Everly,” he said suddenly without looking up.

The compliment caught her off guard and for some reason, pleased her. Her reaction to him was strange, and she didn’t understand why he had such an effect on her when, up until now, no gentleman ever did.

He finished writing and looked up. “Do you like music?”

She bit her lip in thought. “Doesn’t everybody?” She laughed. He immediately started writing and Heather frowned in worry. Did she say something wrong? “I haven’t had the pleasure of attending many operas, but I do enjoy the sound of a string quartet, especially the violin. I love the sound of the violin.”

He stopped writing and looked up at her. Heather didn’t know what to make of his expression. It looked as though he was about to say something. He simply looked at her, and again, her pulse took off into an erratic beat. The way his eyes roamed over her face made her feel warmer in her skin.

“The violin?”

She nodded once.

“Do you play?”

She shook her head. “Not the violin. I’m proficient with the harpsichord and the harp.”

His lips curved up a little at the corner and then he bent his head to write again.

“Anything else? Diseases in my family perhaps? How many sons per generation, how many daughters?” she asked mockingly.

He raised his head and smiled. “Do you wish to give the duke an heir? He will be pleased to hear it.”

Heather blushed scarlet. She could feel the heat from her ears to the tops of her breasts. She looked up to give a scathing retort and caught him staring, quite boldly at her bodice. She looked down and sure enough, her skin was glowing pink over the swells of her breasts displayed by the modest cut. She pulled her wrap around herself and avoided looking at him. When she could muster the courage to lift her eyes, he was scribbling on the notepad once again. He looked up and smiled benignly as if she had never caught him staring at her breasts.

Men. She cursed them in her mind.

“I should be getting back to the drawing room now,” Heather stated.

“Of course.” He nodded and stepped aside so she could pass. “Thank you for your time and honesty, Miss Everly.”

Heather nodded as she passed him and didn’t look back as she made her way back to the house. Curiously, she didn’t hear him follow her. Reaching the edge of the orchard, she paused and looked over her shoulder but he was gone. She shook her head as she continued to the back door. What an odd day. On the bright side, the duke was aware of her in a matrimonial fashion. On the dark side… the duke was aware of her in a matrimonial fashion.

When Heather entered the drawing room, she felt once again under control of herself and the situation. However, her courage wavered when she saw Mr. Calder had also returned, and that Lady Endervale had made a pet of him. She was fawning over him, her hand boldly on his arm and tittering like a fool. Heather gave them a wide berth and headed for a quieter corner where Rose and Charlotte were sitting.

“Isn’t it interesting?” Charlotte said as Heather took the chair next to hers.

“What is interesting?” Heather responded hesitantly.

“Lady Endervale has invited Mr. Calder to dine with us.”

Heather turned her head just slightly to see them and then turned back and shrugged.

“I could tell you why, but it wouldn’t be proper,” Rose mused.

Charlotte playfully swatted at her with her fan. “It’s his looks. Though it wouldn’t be her first infidelity if rumors are true.”

Heather felt her fingers curl into her palms. “That is distasteful.”

“But hardly surprising.” Rose leaned closer. “Lord Endervale is her father’s age. Who would blame a young wife for wanting the attentions of a young man—” Rose stopped.

Heather sat up straighter and looked haughtily over the room.

“I’m sorry. That was unkind of me.” Rose said remorsefully.

“It’s quite all right, Rose. There is no use ignoring what everybody else already knows. I, however, would never behave as Lady Endervale does.”

“That’s correct. You are of far stronger character than she.” Charlotte put a hand on Heather’s in comfort.

“Thank you, Charlotte.” Heather gathered her strength again and looked out over the room. She tried to look everywhere but at the tall figure of a man who stood out so glaringly from the other gentlemen. He was not dressed in evening blacks, not surprising given his station, but he still cut a fine figure in black trousers and a brown coat. He was a large man, his shoulders broad and his arms thicker than most gentlemen in the room. He didn’t look like a steward. He was far too handsome and virile. He radiated confidence and ease as if completely unaware of his lack of importance among the titled lords and ladies in the room. Heather decided it was his smile. It was so friendly, so charming in its ease. He would be impossible not to like, unless one were in the uncomfortable position of being interviewed to be his employer’s future wife. Heather looked away again. Should she say something about her earlier meeting with him? She was so embarrassed, but keeping it inside was growing difficult. She looked up at Rose and Charlotte. They too were outcast of the party due to lack of wealth and title. They knew so much already, could she lean on them a little more? She could feel the words wanting to spill from her like apples stacked too high.

“He spoke to me,” she blurted.

Charlotte and Rose turned their attention to her. “Who?” Rose asked.

“Mr. Calder,” Heather whispered. “I went outside for some air after the gentlemen arrived and he followed me.” At this, Rose’s green eyes widened, and Charlotte raised her brows in intrigue.

“He followed you?

“Yes. He said that he needed to speak with me regarding the duke—like an interview. He asked me all sorts of questions and wrote my answers down on a notepad.”

Rose’s head went back in shock and Charlotte remained perfectly still. Their silence was palpable.

“He asked me if I’d ever been in love,” Heather went on. There was no point in stopping now, and it felt good to release the pressure, like a teapot with too much steam. “He asked me things like if I enjoy music, if I play an instrument, and so forth.”

“That is…” Rose looked up and frowned. “I’m stumped. I’ve nothing to say to that.”

“It’s odd, but I suppose it’s a good thing.” Charlotte patted her knee.

“The duke was waylaid by a broken axel and injury to his ankle. I was worried I would not have enough time to speak with him, so I suppose it is a good thing. Mr. Calder didn’t seem to enjoy it either. We have that in accord.”

“Well… Have you ever been in love?” Rose asked.

Heather was caught off guard. It seemed such a silly question to ever ask somebody. “No, I can’t say that I have. You?” She smiled as Rose blushed in her own discomfiture.

“You asked first,” Charlotte teased.

“I’ve yet to meet a man worth loving,” Rose said meaningfully. “Though I hope to.”

The girls sighed and grew quiet. It was the type of question that made one look inside and consider the possibilities of love, but knowing what she knew about her own circumstances, and that of Charlotte and Rose, she knew that love was a luxury they could scarcely afford. Just like her. She wanted to say something hopeful, but decided they would only be empty words.

The butler announced that dinner was ready, and everyone paired off according to Lady Endervale’s instruction. Heather looked around in confusion. She had yet to be assigned a partner.

Rose mouthed I’m sorry, and Charlotte threw her an anxious glance as they left her, escorted by Mr. Hughes and Sir Stanley. Their parting figures revealed Mr. Calder patiently waiting as everyone assembled near the door. Then he turned, and his eyes alighted on her. He approached her casually, the corners of his mouth curving up timidly.

“I have the honor of escorting you into dinner, Miss Everly. Lady Endervale has graciously invited me to dine with the guests in the duke’s place until he arrives.”

“How,” Heather stumbled for words as his blue eyes swept over her, “kind of our hostess,” she finished awkwardly. If he took offense to her lack of enthusiasm, he didn’t show it. Heather stood and took his offered arm, and they fell in behind the line of guests. Heather wasn’t surprised to be seated across from Mr. Calder given their shared lower rung on the totem pole of society. She was grateful, however, to not be sitting beside him, forced to make conversation. She was still recovering from the afternoon of questioning and the odd effect he seemed to have on her. She was sitting between. Mr. Hughes and Sir Stanley, with Rose and Charlotte on either side of Mr. Calder. He looked up briefly at her before their soups were set before them and Sir Stanley asked about her sisters.

“Violet remained with Primrose to dine in her room. They are still too young to dine at such a gathering.”

“Ah, yes… terribly sophisticated, the eating of food and drinking of wine.” Sir Stanley smirked.

Heather smiled behind her napkin. “I suspect Violet thinks so.”

“I have a younger sister of my own, you see. She too would be green with envy, as green as this asparagus soup.” He looked down at the bowl and made a comical face.

Heather tried to repress her laughter behind her hand but failed. She felt eyes upon her, but when she looked up she only caught one gaze. Mr. Calder briefly held her gaze, his eyes glowing, before turning back to his soup. Heather froze, puzzled by that glow. Could it have been amusement? She mentally shook herself and returned to her own meal.

The dinner carried on, course after course, and Heather was actually enjoying herself. She drank more than she ought to, the result of the constant awareness of the man across from her and the subtle way he would glance at her frequently throughout the meal. He was watching her, his eyes grazing over her like a warm breeze, and then drifting away again before she could make sense of it. She tried to ignore it, but for some perplexing reason, she could feel when he looked at her. Each time his eyes touched on her, her skin would tingle in awareness, like a hidden sense she was only now discovering. He was masterful in disguising it to anyone but her. Whenever she looked up, he would look away, but make no qualms about meeting her eyes first. He knew she knew, but what did it mean?

There was something in these looks, especially when she laughed or received significant attention from the guests on either side of her, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. Perhaps he thought her behavior unsuitable given her tenuous situation with the duke? She didn’t like that. He had no right to disapprove of her actions when they were perfectly acceptable. She was not an accomplished flirt, nor was she inviting unwanted behavior. She was simply enjoying good food and conversation, and a reprieve from the dark cloud of her own thoughts.

Heather grew angrier the longer she pondered him, growing quiet despite the din of lively chatter around her.
How dare he
, she fumed. What right did he have to police her evening and actions? Was this part of the duke’s instructions? That same awareness sprinkled over her, and she looked up to meet his gaze. She held it, daring him to issue some kind of wordless reproof. There was that glow again. A challenge? Amusement? Heather wanted to growl in frustration. What does it mean? She wanted to shout. She reined herself in and took a deep breath. As she breathed in trying to regain her calm, she still had her eyes on him and caught him glance down fleetingly as her rib cage expanded and the bodice of her dress pulled tight over her breasts. His eyes returned to hers, glowing hotly like coals.

Heather forgot how to exhale. Heat spread over her skin like the caress of the finest silk. She broke the invisible pull between their gazes by looking down at her plate. Somehow, a
c
rème brûlé
e
had magically appeared before her.

“It’s divine, Miss Everly. Perfectly creamy and smooth,” Sir Stanley said on her right.

Heather blushed even harder, her cheeks felt uncomfortably hot. “I beg your pardon?” the words rushed out as she finally released her breath.

Sir Stanley looked at her oddly and motioned toward his plate with his spoon. “The
crème
brûlée
.”

“Oh!” Heather huffed in embarrassed laughter. “I thought—never mind. Yes, it looks delicious.”

Sir Stanley frowned at her as he took another bite and then turned to his other dining companion.

Thoroughly flustered, Heather took two bites of her dessert and prayed dinner would be over soon. Her prayer was answered. Lady Endervale stood and the gentlemen rose as the ladies departed for the drawing room. Heather wished to escape to her room, but she knew she would have to bide her time in the drawing room before she could retire.

“Dear, did you enjoy dinner?” Her mother looped her arm through hers as they entered the drawing room.

“Of course. Everything was superb.” Heather hoped her smiled was convincing.

“I’m glad. You’ve been a bit withdrawn since the start of the party.”

Drat. “Not withdrawn, just adjusting.”

“It’s unfortunate about the duke not being here when we have waited so anxiously, but Mr. Calder assures me he is in contact with him multiple times a day and that the duke is eager to meet you.” Her mother pulled her to two chairs in the far corner and turned to face her. Her knowing eyes searched her face. “Do you still wish to go forward with the duke?”

“Of course!” Heather said in false eagerness. “It’s just… I’m worried there won’t be time.”

Her mother patted her hand. “That’s why Mr. Calder was sent, my dear. I have hopes that the duke is as eager as we are to form a union. We must make Mr. Calder an ally.”

Heather thought of the way Mr. Calder had looked at her during dinner, the way she felt the heat of his gaze over her skin. She didn’t think ally was the appropriate word for Mr. Calder.

“It helps that he is young and handsome,” her mother continued, “and if Lady Endervale continues to let him participate in the activities in place of the duke, we will have ample opportunity to make a lasting impression for him to convey to the duke. Perhaps I will speak to her directly on the matter.”

Heather didn’t like that idea, but her mother’s eyes were clear of worry and lit with hope. She bit her tongue. She had a few choice words for Mr. Calder and those glowing eyes of his. She would save them for him, and for an opportune time when she could take him to task without an audience. But she didn’t have the nerve to do it tonight, not when she could still recall the feeling of his eyes on her, feeling it like a touch. Even the memory caused a frisson of heat to slide down her spine. It would not do.

She looked around for a distraction. Lucy had commandeered a sofa with Dorothea at her side. Charlotte and Rose had just joined them, filling the last seats of the sofa, and Hazel and Anabelle were taking seats across from them.

“I’m going to sit with Anabelle and Hazel, if I may, Mother.”

“Certainly, dear, I’ve been meaning to ask Lady Wellsford about her poodle.”

Heather escorted her mother to Lady Wellsford and squeezed in beside Hazel on the sofa.

“I feel as though I’ve eaten an elephant,” Hazel said with a grimace.

“You certainly ate like an elephant,” Anabelle murmured.

Hazel’s eyes snapped to her sisters. “Don’t claim to have a bird’s appetite, Anabelle. I saw you take two rolls.”

Anabelle rolled her eyes.

“Don’t start, you two. I’m beginning to think I was blessed to only have a brother.” Lucy broke into their bickering.

“You don’t fight with your brother?” Hazel said in disbelief.

“Of course, but we do it properly, without witnesses.”

“What about you, Heather. Do you and your sisters get along?”

“We have our disagreements, but it’s easier now. Violet can be quite the shrew when she wishes, but they have both matured so much in the last few years.”