Who Needs Mr Willoughby? (12 page)

Briefly she filled him in on her recent adventure. “And so Matthew –” she stopped, and blushed. “I mean, Dr Brandon – backed the car out and I drove off. No harm done.” She laughed. “Although the two men who stole it were furious when they came out and saw me driving away. You should’ve seen their faces.”

Willoughby tensed. “No harm done?” he echoed, and turned to her in consternation. “I don’t agree! You might’ve been hurt. That was a bloody stupid thing for Brandon to suggest. Dangerous, too.”

“It wasn’t, really,” Marianne protested. “I had the key; and Brian and Danny were both in the pub.”

“But what if they’d come out sooner, and caught you at it?” he demanded. “I’d never forgive Brandon if something happened to you.”

“But nothing did,” she said, gently. She reached out to put her hands on either side of his face, flushed now with anger…and a trace, perhaps, of jealousy? “I’m fine. But I adore you for worrying about me.”

In answer, he wrapped his arms tightly around her and held her close as he buried his face in her hair. “I don’t want anything to happen to you, Marianne. You’re not like any other girl I’ve ever known. You mean the world to me.”

She drew back, her arms resting along his. “And so do you, to me,” she whispered, her eyes luminous.

“I’ve made a lot of mistakes,” he admitted, and rested his forehead against hers. “I’ve done a lot of things in my past – stupid things – that I regret. I’ve been with more than my share of women, and I’ve had a lot of meaningless flings.”

“You’re no different than most men, then.”

He took her hands in his. “No, maybe not. But none of those women meant what you mean to me, Marianne, I swear it.”

She smiled at him in the darkness. “I believe you, Kit,” she whispered. “I do.”

He kissed her then, with a new urgency. Her arms went around his neck and she let out a whimper of need as he lowered her to the hard wooden floor and covered her body with his. Their hands went everywhere; sliding, grasping, touching, caressing.

Marianne opened her lips beneath his as his tongue plundered her mouth, thrusting and teasing, awakening her desire. She felt his own need for her, and the knowledge that she’d made him want her thrilled her. She made no protest as he reached up and began to unbutton her blouse, covering her neck and shoulders with feather-light kisses. She gasped with shock and pleasure as his lips, so warm and velvety, moved down her throat and found the gentle swell of her breasts.

He was just reaching for the waistband of her jeans when footfalls stirred the leaves nearby.

They both froze, locked in each other’s arms and scarcely daring to breathe.

“Who is it?” Marianne whispered, her heart beating wildly against Willoughby’s. “Or…
what
is it? Bloody hell! Is it a wild animal, do you think –?”

“Shh.”

“Harriet,” Edward Ferrars called out then, his voice just a few yards away, “look! I do believe there’s a tree house over here.”

Carefully, so as not to make a sound, Marianne sat up and buttoned her blouse with frantic, clumsy fingers, hoping she hadn’t mismatched the buttonholes in her haste. What in the world were Harriet and Edward doing
here
? They weren’t due to arrive at Barton Park until tomorrow afternoon.

Willoughby sat up as well. “Let’s hope they don’t decide to come up here for a look,” he whispered.

Marianne’s eyes widened, but she said nothing, only nodded. The footsteps came nearer, and stopped. To her horror, Edward took hold of the rope ladder and began to climb.

“A tree house?” Harriet called back. “How ridiculous.”

“I think I’ll have a quick look inside before we go up to the house,” he said. “Haven’t seen one of these in years. It brings back memories.”

Willoughby and Marianne exchanged glances and waited in the darkness.
How incredibly embarrassing this is
, she thought, and blushed scarlet.
Edward and his sister will know right away what we were up to, and Harriet will run and tell mum and Elinor straight away –

“Don’t be stupid,” Harriet called back sharply from somewhere in the darkness behind her brother. “You’ll fall, and break your leg, and then what will I do? I don’t fancy being stuck out here in the wilds of Northumberland above a few days at most, I assure you. Now, do come down.”

“Yes. Yes, I suppose you’re right.” And with a sigh, Edward hesitated, and climbed down from the ladder to rejoin his sister, and left Marianne and Willoughby to themselves.

Chapter 18

After wishing Kit good night – and indulging in a few more hurried, hungry kisses in the shadow of the oak tree – Marianne tore herself away and slipped back inside the cottage.

The fire in the drawing room grate had sunk to embers, and the house was settled and quiet. Everyone must’ve gone to bed. She was just about to turn and go upstairs to her own bedroom when Elinor spoke from the shadows.

“Did you and Kit have a nice time?” she asked.

“Crap, but you gave me a start!” Marianne’s hand flew to her throat. “Yes, we did. What are you doing hiding down here in the dark? Why aren’t you in bed?”

“A car drove by a little while ago, and stopped; and it woke me. I couldn’t get back to sleep. Too many thoughts circling round in my brain.”

“Thoughts about Edward?” Marianne guessed, and went to sit by the dying fire in the chair across from her sister.

“What else? I think about him all the time.” Her words were bitter. “I should forget him; he’s obviously forgotten about me.”

Marianne reached out and took Elinor’s hands in hers. “He hasn’t forgotten you, Ellie. How could he? Besides,” she added, and drew away to settle back against the cushions, “I have news…news I think you’ll find it interesting.”

“Oh? And what’s that?”

“Edward’s here. Not here, at our door,” Marianne hastened to add at the look of shock on her sister’s face. “He’s up at the manor house. The car you heard earlier was Harriet’s Mercedes.”

“The two of them are
here
?” She stood up in agitation, and sat back down abruptly. “But I thought they weren’t due to get here until tomorrow. Saturday.”

“They weren’t. But obviously there’s been a change of plan – and I’m sure it’s down to Harriet. She rules over poor Edward with an iron fist.”

Elinor sighed. “You know what this means, don’t you?”

“It means you and Edward will finally have a chance to spend some time together.”

“Besides that.” She blushed. “Although I won’t say I don’t like the thought of seeing him again, because I do. No, it means we’ll have to invite the two of them to dinner on Sunday.”

Marianne grimaced. “Oh, balls…you’re right. I hadn’t even thought of that. I don’t mind about Edward, but the sight of his sister across the table is enough to put me right off my dinner. But on the plus side,” she added, and brightened, “we can seat you next to Edward, and you can have him to yourself all evening.”

“Why don’t we tie him to the chair so he can’t get away?” Elinor said, and grinned.

“Ooh, kinky…I like it.” Marianne smirked. “I bet there’s a whole, deeper layer to Edward. Hidden depths. It’s always the quiet ones you have to watch out for, isn’t that what they say –?”

There was a creak on the stair tread, and Mrs Holland said irritably, “Whatever are you two doing down there?”

“Nothing, mum,” Marianne called back as she giggled and got to her feet. “Elinor and I were just having a little…erm, girly chat.”

“Well, finish your chat tomorrow. It’s nearly midnight,” she scolded. “I’m tired. And you have work in the morning, Marianne. Both of you come upstairs, now.”

“Coming, mum,” Elinor said.

Suppressing giggles, she and Marianne exchanged amused glances as they obeyed, and followed their mother up the stairs to bed.

***

The tantalising scents of roasting beef and baking pies wafted through Mrs Fenwick’s kitchen on Sunday morning.

“I’m so glad you came in to help me,” Mrs Holland told the housekeeper. Her face was flushed as she removed a pie from the old Rayburn oven. “I wasn’t anticipating quite so many for dinner.”

“I don’t mind. An extra pair of hands never goes wanting in the kitchen…besides which, I hear tell that Mrs Ferrars-Holland is quite the critical madam,” Mrs Fenwick added.

“She’s awful,” Marianne agreed as she finished kneading the bread dough and set it out on the counter to rise. “Why did she and Edward get here a day early, anyway? Do you know?”

“I do, as it happens. Lady Violet told me that madam scheduled a fitting for a new riding habit in Hadleighshire yesterday, so she decided to turn up early. Never mind the fact that she wasn’t expected, and none of the guest rooms are ready…”

“That’s Harriet for you,” Mrs Holland said. “Never a thought for anyone but herself. Hard to believe she and Edward are brother and sister.”

“Is Dr Brandon looking forward to dinner?” Elinor asked Marianne as she wandered into the kitchen. She sat down at the table beside her sister, and picked up a paring knife and began to peel potatoes.

“He is. He said he hasn’t had a proper roast and mash since his granny died. He’s bringing his sister Lacey along. His father’s away from Delaford for the next two weeks and he doesn’t trust her to stay out of trouble while he’s gone.”

“How old is she?”

“Fifteen. Matthew said she’s run a bit wild ever since their mother died.”

“Poor girl,” Elinor sympathised. “Ouch! Bloody paring knife – it’s so dull a butter knife would do as well.” She tossed it aside and sucked on her finger. “I’m sure it’s been hard on her, losing her mother.”

“Well, under the lashings of black eyeliner, the attitude, and the Doc Martens,” Marianne remarked, “she’s actually very pretty. She’s been in the clinic a time or two with Matthew.”

“Perhaps meeting some new people at dinner will…I don’t know, broaden her horizons,” Elinor suggested.

“I think her horizons are already broadened. She’s pretty jaded for fifteen. Oh, well – at least Matthew’s looking forward to it. Although,” Marianne added, “he wasn’t best pleased when I told him Kit was invited to dinner as well.”

“Really? I wonder why he should mind?”

“No idea.” Marianne shrugged. “I get the impression the two of them don’t much like each other.”

“That’s too bad,” Mrs Holland said. “I hope they can manage to be civil at dinner.”

“I’m sure they will.”

“I can think of one reason those two mightn’t like each other,” Mrs Fenwick offered as she wielded the rolling pin expertly over the pie dough. “Although I don’t approve of gossip, mind.”

Marianne lifted her head up. “Oh, no. You can’t say something like that and then refuse to explain yourself. Details, please.”

“Oh, very well.” The housekeeper sighed. “It’s no secret, I suppose, at any rate. It all started when Dr Brandon got engaged to Kit Willoughby’s sister, Philippa. Madly in love with her he was, or so he claimed, until he ended the engagement three months later without so much as a by your leave. He broke the poor girl’s heart, and no mistake.”

Chapter 19

Marianne stared at the housekeeper. “You can’t be serious. Matthew Brandon was engaged to marry Kit’s
sister
?”

“That he was. They’d set a date, picked out the church – Philippa even got fitted in Newcastle for one of them designer wedding gowns,” Mrs Fenwick asserted. “But just a few days before they were due to tie the knot, Mrs Smyth announced her niece’s wedding was off. And that was the end of that.”

“How could he do that?” Marianne said, taken aback. “How could he jilt someone he claimed to love?”

“I’m sure he had good reason,” Elinor pointed out mildly. “And he didn’t jilt her, exactly. He didn’t leave her standing at the altar. He ended it between them.”

“Your sister’s right, Marianne, we don’t know the entire story,” her mother pointed out. “We haven’t heard Dr Brandon’s side of things. I’m sure he had a valid reason for doing what he did.”

Marianne remembered Lynn’s words on the subject of Matthew’s broken engagement on her first day at the clinic.

I suspect it had to do with the fact that he has little time for a fiancée. Between the clinic and Greensprings, he’s got his hands full.

But she also remembered Matthew leaving her by the side of the road, driving off in his old rattletrap truck without so much as a by your leave or a backward glance.

Of course, he
did
come back…

Mrs Holland put a pan of potatoes on to boil and wiped her hands on her apron. “In any case, you must be as pleasant to Matthew Brandon as if you hadn’t heard any of this talk. It’s nothing but speculation, after all. And so you mustn’t make mention of it.”

Well
, Marianne thought as she picked up a dishcloth and wiped off her hands,
I suppose
there are two sides to every story.

And although she was inclined to believe Matthew Brandon was more than capable of breaking a girl’s heart and dancing a jig on it without a second thought, she decided, just this once, to give him the benefit of the doubt.

***

“Da says you’re looking for me, mam?”

Marianne looked up to see a lanky young man standing in the dining room doorway, one shoulder resting against the wall. He had dark ginger hair and, judging by the way his gaze swept boldly over the guests gathered at Lady Violet’s dining table, not an ounce of shyness. She couldn’t help but notice that his eyes stopped and lingered on Lacey Brandon.

He noticed Marianne’s attention and quirked his brow upwards. “Hello, miss–?”

“Holland,” she replied. She offered nothing more.

“Miss Holland.” He affected a mock bow. “Pleased.”

Before she could reply, Matthew’s sister, her dark hair streaked with maroon and her lashes thick with mascara, eyed him up. “Hel-
lo
,” she said, and smirked. “I’m Lacey. Miss Brandon, to you.”

“Miss Brandon.” He inclined his head ever so slightly. “A pleasure.”

“Jack Fenwick,” the housekeeper scolded as she edged past him into the dining room with the soup tureen in her hands, “quit flirting with the ladies and get yourself out to the kitchen and help me serve.”

He straightened. “I’m on it, mam.” And with another bow and a wink at Marianne and Lacey, he turned and sauntered off.