Desperate and Daring 01 - Desperate and Daring (4 page)

“Please forgive us for deserting you. I had forgotten he would partner you until that very moment. I meant to tell you,” Rose admitted contritely.

“It’s all right.” Heather sighed. “We didn’t say more than two words to each other, and then I was seated between Mr. Hughes and Sir Stanley. I enjoyed dinner very much.”

“I found Mr. Calder quite charming,” Charlotte mused. “Did you think so, Rose?”

“I did, but I will only be kind to him if Heather wishes me to.”

Heather laughed. “He isn’t my enemy. Be kind to him if you wish. I only find the situation between us difficult because, well… it’s difficult.”

“And odd,” Lucy added.

“Yes,” Heather nodded in agreement, “quite odd. I haven’t the faintest idea what I should be doing or saying. He is but a steward, an employee of the duke, and yet, in some strange way, I feel as though my future is in his hands. It doesn’t help that he smiles at me so and watches me with those glowing eyes.” Heather shook her head in dismay.

“I beg your pardon?” Lucy said.

Heather looked up to find her friends staring at her peculiarly. “What did I say?”

“Something about his smile and glowing eyes,” Anabelle prompted with a smile.

“Do feel free to elaborate.” Hazel nodded encouragingly.

“What? No. There is nothing that needs clarification, I assure you. He is simply watching me—for the duke, I would presume.”

Lucy squinted at her. “For the duke, you say. And yet you say his eyes are glowing? How would you describe glowing eyes exactly? I would like to know when a man’s eyes are glowing when he looks at me.”

Heather wanted to melt into the sofa. “Forget I said anything.”

“We can’t now. We will all be watching him watching you the rest of the evening.” Charlotte laughed quietly.

“No, you won’t.” Heather stood. “I’ve had quite enough excitement for one day and wish to retire. I will see you tomorrow if I don’t throw myself from my window.

“Heather, don’t run away,” Lucy bid.

“I’m not running. I’m walking at an appropriate pace. Goodnight, you harpies,” Heather said in affectionate weariness. She caught her mother’s eyes as she headed for the door and somehow conveyed her intent. Her mother didn’t stop her, only nodded in understanding, and continued talking to Lady Wellsford.

Once out of sight, Heather picked up her pace and headed up the stairs. She was about to put her foot on the first step of the next set of stairs when a shadow moved in the hall.

“Miss Everly,” he said.

Heather froze. She slowly turned, just barely able to see his face in the shadows of the corridor, but she knew his voice already, and now knew the feeling of his eyes touching her.

“Mr. Calder.”

“I was hoping to speak with you again. I think we may have gotten off on the wrong foot. Will you join me?”

Heather hesitated. She should say no. She should go straight to her room to do what she meant to do, which was to go to bed and to wish this day was just a terrible dream.

She certainly felt like she was dreaming. Like all her movements were languid and heavy, and she had no control of where it led. She nodded and turned towards him. His features became clearer, his lips turning up on one side in a half smile. He looked uncertain.
Good.

“Lady Endervale is lending me the use of her sitting room for the duke’s use.” He opened the door to a small room with a chaise lounge and a small desk. A small fire filled the room with adequate warmth and an oil lamp glowed on the desk. “I don’t think she’s ever used it.” His voiced was tinged with amusement.

He waved her through and Heather entered slowly. He walked around her and pulled a chair from the wall, placing it before the desk.

Heather took the seat and folded her hands in her lap, nervously resigning herself to another interview of sorts. “Have you more questions then?”

“I actually wondered if perhaps you had some questions of your own, Miss Everly. The duke seems to inspire questions and curiosity.” He smiled and a dimple winked at her.

Heather felt her mouth go dry. How could a steward be so boyishly handsome? Something was different about him… “Where are your spectacles, Mr. Calder?” she asked in astonishment. Her eyes greedily absorbed his face in pleasure and discomfort. Without the glasses, he was much more masculine, his eyes magnetically blue, his jaw wide and firm. He had a cleft in his chin. Had she noticed that before? She noticed it now. She couldn’t seem to stop herself from staring at him.

“I have trouble seeing distant things. I don’t need them when working,” he answered absently.

“Have you always worn spectacles?” she asked curiously.

“Since I was a boy.” He looked up and answered. He leaned forward and folded his hands on the desk. “Feel free to ask me any questions you want.”

Heather looked down at her hands as she thought about what to ask. She looked up and met his gaze. “How long have you worked for the duke?”

He tilted his head to the side in thought. “Two years. I worked under my father until he passed and then took his place.”

“I’m sorry,” she said with feeling.

He nodded but said nothing.

“Did you always want to be a steward?”

His eyes cut to the side and he pursed his lips. He looked back at her and smiled. “I don’t know how to answer that.”

“Simple honesty will do. I promise not to tell.” Heather couldn’t help smiling in return.

“It has its good days and bad days. I don’t think I considered my life taking any other direction.”

Heather nodded and bit her lip. She was feeling mischievous and spiteful, especially after the havoc he played on her senses at dinner. “Are you in love, Mr. Calder?”

“I beg your pardon?” He sat up straighter in his chair.

“Are you in love with anyone? You asked it of me and now I’m asking you. Is there a woman who holds the key to your heart?”

He looked very uncomfortable, and perhaps it was a trick of the light, but Heather swore she saw color creeping up his neck. Even when bashful he was gorgeous.

He cleared his throat. “When I asked if you had questions, I meant about the duke.”

Heather grinned. “Answer the question.”

He thrust his chin out and pulled at his cravat. “No, not at this present time.”

Heather looked down to hide her smile. She felt a curl of pleasure in her stomach and her cheeks felt warm. She needed to change the subject quickly.

“Do you like working for the duke?”

“Of course.”

She didn’t buy it for a second. “Truly? I’ve heard he can be somewhat… difficult.”

“That can describe most of the upper echelons of society, Miss Everly. You will have to clarify.” His gaze was penetrating.

Heather felt the previous moment of pleasure slip away. Like a dark cloud sitting over a picnic. “Is he… is he a mean man?” she asked finally.

Mr. Calder was silent. “He’s never struck anyone to my knowledge. He has rigid expectations of everyone he employs. They are paid fairly and treated adequately. If you are asking how he would treat a young wife, I can’t rightly say. He has a reputation that is well-deserved. I’ve been out of society for so long I can’t tell you how much is true or untrue.”

Heather bent her head and closed her eyes against a wave of sorrow. She was trying to be strong. She shook her head and looked up. “Does he have any family?”

“None that care to know him,” he answered without feeling.

His eyes watched her and Heather had a feeling he saw everything. Was it as painfully obvious to him as it was to her that she didn’t want to marry the duke? She tried to rally her courage. “Do you think the duke will wish to marry me?”

“I can’t imagine any man not wishing to marry you, Miss Everly.”

He said it with such conviction that Heather forgot how to breathe. “Thank you,” she said, but it was so quiet she wasn’t sure he heard her.

“Why would you want to marry a man like the duke?”

“It isn’t a question of want, Mr. Calder, but a question of need. I need to marry the duke. For my sisters and my mother.” She looked up into his eyes, her own burning with the painful admission. His eyes looked right back at her, probably seeing her for the desperate creature she was. But his eyes were not hard and judging, but soft and sympathetic. It stung more.

“I don’t need any one’s pity.” Heather pushed out of her chair and turned. It was a small room, two steps and she was already before the fire, her hands shaking, her lashes brimming with shameful tears. She tried to catch them with her gloved finger.

A gentle hand on her shoulder turned her. “Please don’t cry. I can’t bear it.”

His voice was deep, a vibration she could feel inside her stomach. She tried to hide her tears, sniffing gently and wiping at her eyes, but they were relentless.

“I’m going to kiss you if you don’t stop crying.”

A surprised half laugh-half sob erupted from her. “That’s a preposterous thing to say, and extremely inappropriate.”

He brought a hand to her face, his large hand cupping her cheek, fingers sliding into her hair. “Not preposterous, simply fact. I can’t stand to see a beautiful woman so sad.”

Heather gulped down another sob. It sat like a stone in her chest as she looked up at him. There it was again, that dream-like feeling. Every movement felt impossibly slow except the tender beating of her heart, which seemed inordinately fast. She swallowed. His eyes were dark, like midnight, reflections of the fire twinkling like stars inside them. A brazen tear slid down her cheek as if to taunt him, slipping into the seam at the corner of her lips. His eyes followed it and did not look away as his head bent to hers.

It felt like an eternity before his lips touched hers, a slow meeting of softness. His hands gently slid up her arms, fingers curving around her shoulders. She didn’t know a man’s lips could be so soft. She held still, unsure if she even had the ability to move. His lips moved against hers gently, a massaging caress, and then he pulled away.

The kiss spread over her skin the way fire consumes paper. When it was over, she took a breath and her lungs felt scorched. She felt light and fragile, on the verge of disintegrating into nothing but ash and want. Her eyes blinked open and met his. Traces of the fire still lingered there, and she now recognized what the glow meant. It was desire.

She stepped back, his arms falling slowly to his side. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“I know, but I did warn you.”

Heather folded her arms across her chest. “What are you about, Mr. Calder? Do you expect me to trade favors for favors?

“No—never. I only wished to comfort you,” he said earnestly.

“You’ve taken instead of given. You’ve behaved badly from the start. A steward should know better, but you’ve carelessly crossed the line again and again.” He stepped back further from her, but he hardly looked contrite. “What do you have to say for yourself?” Heather demanded.

He narrowed his eyes at her. “I’m no child, Miss Everly. Perhaps I’ve been too far removed from society at the ducal estate, but I know the look of a woman in need very well. And you, my dear, are a woman in need. The question of what that need is you haven’t quite figured out. A testament to your innocence, but I know what you need, Miss Everly.”

“How dare you,” Heather whispered.

“How dare I? If you want to claim a duke, you’re going to have to become accustomed to my honesty. I can see right through your fragile armor. You want to marry the duke as much as you want to jump naked into the Thames. This is a world of wants and needs, Heather, and you need to marry the duke, but I can see very plainly that you want me.”

Heather gasped. It was such a sharp intake of breath that she almost choked. She spun away from him and reached for the door, but he was suddenly there blocking her path.

“Move or I shall scream.”

“Don’t scream. The repercussions are far more serious for you than me.”

Heather glared at him. “What do you want from me?”

“I want to help you. I see a young woman throwing herself on the sword for her family, and I don’t understand why.”

“Because I love them, because if I don’t, we will have no future, we will have no place to live.”

“So you would marry a man old enough to be your grandfather? A man known across England and the continent for his horrible demeanor?”

“Yes.”

He stepped closer. “You’d lie beneath him and moan his name for the sake of keeping your respectability?”

Heather wasn’t aware she slapped him until after the fact. Her hand stung, and his face was pinched with anger.

“Perhaps I deserved that,” he conceded.

“We’re done here. Get out of my way,” Heather fumed.

“Listen to me. Until he feels the desire to peel himself off his ass at the Foal and Mare, I am your only connection to the duke. You need me.”

“And you see an advantageous opportunity for you, is that what you’re proposing?”

He smiled a little. “No. I can see my kissing you was a dreadful mistake. Please forgive me.”

“Then why did you do it?” Heather asked. For whatever reason, she needed to know.

“Because you needed it. It is a terrible shame that your charms will be wasted on a man like the duke. He would never appreciate you, Heather. He would never gaze in wonder at the glow of your skin, marvel at the softness of your lips. You would be nothing but a trophy for his collection. I thought you should know that. I thought to kiss you so you would know that you are wanted, you are beautiful, and you’re deserving of so much more than being an old man’s prize. That was all, and I shan’t do it again, not unless you ask me to.” He turned and opened the door, moving far out of her path to freedom.

Heather stood for a moment as thoughts and feelings ricocheting inside her in chaos. Words like want and desire bounced around in her mind. She was terrified to move, unable to trust what her action might be. She took a deep breath, and then another. She shook off the shock and strode out of the room without uttering a word.