Desperate and Daring 01 - Desperate and Daring (2 page)

With each new gentleman that arrived, the beat of Heather’s heart became more painful. They were all handsome young gentlemen of respectable birth; privileged, spoiled, the future bright before them. It was enough to make her feel sick. The noise around her increased with excited chatter and greetings. She did her duty and looked up to smile as each new guest was announced, but inside, she was simmering with envy. Violet sat to her left, quiet and dreary. Her mother sat to her right with Primrose beside her. Heather took Violet’s hand and squeezed it. Even though she ached inside, she would always be a source of comfort for her sister. Lucy sat with her mother across from them on another sofa and looked up brightly as the butler entered again with another group of gentlemen.

“Lord Rigsby, Lord Draven, and Mr. Calder.”

Heather looked up, curious to see Lucy’s brother. Of course, he was handsome, chestnut hair perfectly pomaded, and warm brown eyes. He had that charming and mischievous quality ladies fawned over. Lord Draven was the dark and brooding sort. His hair was jet black, and his eyes were a very dark shade of grey that Heather had never seen before. He was very intriguing. She moved her gaze to the next gentleman, and her heart thudded out of rhythm, her lungs ceased inflating. She blinked. He was taller than both gentlemen who preceded him, his hair carefully styled, and dark as night. His eyes were a bright, deep blue, like bluebells, even hidden as they were behind a sturdy pair of black framed glasses, and his smile—as his eyes encompassed the entire room, were so warm and friendly that Heather wanted to curl up to it like a cat with a spot of sunshine. That smile made her tingle all the way down her spine, warming her from the inside like hot chocolate.

She was aware she was staring quite shamelessly. She pulled her eyes away and looked round her to see if anyone had noticed. They hadn’t. Heather watched as Lucy’s brother walked straight forward to greet his mother, followed by Lord Draven—looking a tad antsy, and Mr. Calder. Heather smiled crookedly as he fawned over his mother, and her face glowed with delight. An odd feeling pulled her gaze, and she looked up to find Mr. Calder staring at her. It startled her, but just as quickly, he looked away. Lucy stood and turned her brother’s attention to their sofa.

“This is my rascally brother, Jonathan—er, Lord Rigsby. I’d like you to meet my new friend, Miss Everly, Lady Everly, and her sisters, Miss Violet, and Miss Primrose,” Lucy finished. Jonathan bowed elegantly before them, his smile charming and kind.

“Tis my honor to meet such a lovely family,” he added.

Heather wanted to laugh absurdly again, but she was pleased by the flattered bloom in her mother’s cheeks.

“The honor is ours, Lord Rigsby. Your mother and sister have been enchanting company.”

“My lady, may I introduce to you Viscount Draven, and our new acquaintance, Mr. Calder.”

Both gentlemen bowed before Lady Everly. Heather watched as her mother preened before the handsome gentlemen. She couldn’t help smiling again. She looked up as Lucy nudged her brother.

“Miss Everly, and her sisters, Miss Violet and Miss Primrose.”

Lord Draven bowed rather coldly, his expression of boredom unmoving. Mr. Calder smiled politely as he bowed, his eyes touching on Heather’s as he stood erect again. Heather had to pull her eyes away again with difficulty as if they hooked to his and were reluctant to let go. She looked down at her hands to hide her unease. It was then that their hostess swooped down to rescue them, or rather, the titled gentleman.

“Lord Draven! Lord Rigsby, surely you must not deprive the other ladies of your attention.” She smiled broadly at everyone as she herded them towards another group. They hastily bowed goodbyes as Lady Endervale carried them away with the tenacity of an owl snatching a mouse from the ground. “Your attention is certainly wasted there,” she was heard saying as they moved away. Heather’s head snapped up as she turned to watch the lady depart in shock.

“Well, the nerve of that woman—”

“Lucy,” Lady Rigsby cut her off.

Heather looked down again, but it was impossible not to notice the shining hessians in her periphery of her view.

“Mr. Calder, is it?” Lucy smiled.

Mr. Calder looked as comfortable as a sheep among wolves. It was clear his attention wasn’t desired for the other ladies in the room. Heather looked up tentatively, aware her cheeks were quite possibly as red as raspberries.

Mr. Calder turned to Lucy with a polite smile. “It is, Lady Lucy.”

“Please sit, and tell us about yourself,” Lady Rigsby bid.

Mr. Calder obliged, and Heather relaxed a bit. He positively loomed while standing.

“There isn’t much to tell, Lady Rigsby. I am steward to the Duke of Ablehill. His carriage broke an axel a town south of here, and he is recuperating at an Inn with a sprained ankle.”

“Oh, my!” Lady Rigsby and Lady Everly gasped.

“He sent me on ahead to give his excuses and prepare for his stay,” Mr. Calder finished.

From the corner of her eye, Heather could see her mother turn to her in concern. But what was odd was the way Mr. Calder turned to her expectantly, as well. Dear Lord, did he know? He must, since he worked for the duke. It was humiliating to say the least.

“That is unfortunate, Mr. Calder. We were so looking forward to his arrival,” she said stoically. His eyes quietly assessed her, and she had a feeling he knew exactly who she was and what she wanted. Her pulse increased the longer he watched her until he moved his eyes away. Heather could feel her pulse beating in her neck. She watched as he made a kinder assessment whilst looking over her mother and sisters.

“I hope the duke will recover from his injury?” Her mother pressed.

“Oh, it is certain. Just a day or two off his feet should do the trick. The doctor assured us of this. The duke would have preferred to recover here with such splendid company, but the jostling of the hired carriage was too painful. As soon as the axel is repaired, he will join us.

Heather felt worry sink into her bones. Now she would have even less time to make a favorable impression on the duke before the house party ended. She felt Violet tug at her hand. She looked down in surprise. She didn’t realize she was still holding onto Violet.

“Have a care,” Violet whispered.

Heather released her hand, and Violet pulled it into her lap and rubbed it.

The room was stifling now that so many guests occupied it. Heather wished to be outside again in the cooler air. Her mind was clouded with worry, and she feared it was written all over her face. She needed to get her bearings, she needed to be able to think clearly, so she could decide what to do about the duke and put on a carefree attitude for her family. She was about to speak when—
“I beg your pardon, but I must see that the duke’s room is satisfactory.” Mr. Calder bid them good afternoon and left the drawing room. Heather smiled in mild relief and turned to her mother. “I’m going to exchange wraps. This is far too heavy for indoors. Violet, do you need anything from our room?” Heather gave her sister a speaking look. Violet shook her head in the negative.

Heather excused herself from the group and serenely exited the drawing room. Once outside the door, she hurried to the stairs and then paused with her foot on the first step. Decision made, she pivoted and went down a side hall leading to the back of the house. She darted past a billiard room already full of gentlemen and hurried out the back door that led to a side courtyard.

She exhaled in great relief when the cool air bathed her cheeks. The door clicked shut behind her, but Heather paid it no mind as she took deep calming breaths to bring her nerves under control. She stepped out into the weak sunshine, looking up into the sky that was a glaring white blanket of clouds rather than open blue. She wondered if it would rain. It would be fitting for the tragedy her life was turning into. The door pushed into her back and she was shoved forward. “Oh!” She landed on her hands and knees, her fingernails digging into the gravel and dirt.

“A thousand apologies, Miss Everly.”

Black boots filled her vision again. She winced as she pushed back onto her haunches. She was suddenly plucked up from the ground and only as her head tilted up to see the face of her aide did she remember to put her feet on the ground. Her mind blanked, but her skin burned from head to toe with indignation.

“Mr. Calder,” he said. His hands still holding onto her arms.

“Yes,” she said. She shook her head and put her hands on his chest to push out of his grasp.

“I am Mr. Calder,” he said again with a frown.

“I am aware,” Heather snapped at him. “I was not knocked senseless, merely knocked over.”

“Are you hurt? As I said before, a thousand apologies, Miss Everly. I did not know you were standing so close to the door.”

“I’m fine, thank you.” Heather looked down at her hands. They were resting on his chest and she could feel the warmth of his body. She snatched them away and he released her. She brushed at her hands to avoid looking at him. He offered her a handkerchief. “Thank you.”

“I was hoping to speak privately with you, but not in such a blundering fashion.”

Heather’s hands stilled as she slowly looked up. “In what regard did you need to speak with me?”

“Well, to be frank, it regards your letter. It was passed on to me by the duke’s solicitor.” He met her stare calmly.

Heather looked for any trace of ridicule but found none. If anything, his expression was guarded. “Oh…that.” She looked down at her hands again. Dirt was caked under her nails.

“Do you still wish to meet the duke?”

“What? I mean. Of course.”

“The duke does not take this meeting lightly. He would very much like to meet you.”

“Oh?” Heather felt a flutter of hope in her chest. Perhaps not all was lost.

“Might I be honest with you, Miss Everly?”

The hope hopped and skittered inside her chest uncomfortably. “Please do, Mr. Calder.

“I’ve never been dispatched on such an odd task before, and I do find it odd, Miss Everly, that a young woman like yourself would wish to marry someone so much older than herself. Especially one so comely.”

Heather moved her head back in surprise. “Why, thank you, Mr. Calder. I was quite clear in my letter why I wish to meet the duke. It is a matter of great importance and of little time.”

“But certainly you could marry any man you chose. Why the duke?”

Heather frowned. How could he be so obtuse? She looked around the courtyard. There was little privacy to be had. Beyond the courtyard was an orchard of trees still dormant from winter, but thick enough to hide them. A small path went straight to the heart of it. “Come, Mr. Calder.” She preceded him. The path went deep into the orchard and Heather suspected all the way to the outskirts of the garden into unkempt land. She turned to face Mr. Calder once they could no longer see the house.

“I have no dowry, Mr. Calder. I have nothing to offer a husband in that regard. Only myself. I only had one season before my father took ill. After his death, we discovered… all the debt, and since then, it was been a slow slid into—”
Hell
, she wanted to say, but she refrained. “I have no prospects for a husband, yet have a great need of one. His grace can save me and my family.”

Mr. Calder’s expression was unreadable, except for a small line between his brows. “My condolences,” was all he said and then, “I’ve been given the task of discovering whether or not you would be a suitable wife before the duke arrives,” he said carefully.

Heather felt her cheeks go scarlet. She had never been so embarrassed and ashamed of her life than she was right now.
How did she get here?
She wondered feebly. “Oh?” was all she had the ability to say. Now he would think she was a simpleton as well as destitute.

“An interview of sorts,” he added. He was clearly uncomfortable now, too.

“I see,” she answered numbly.

He pulled a notepad and pencil from his pocket.

Heather wanted to laugh again. It was absurd, the whole situation ridiculously absurd, and yet, here she stood. She watched his face as he frowned down at the open notepad. The meager light glinted off the lenses of his glasses and that line appeared again.

“Are…are you in love?” he asked nervously.

“I beg your pardon?” Her throat tickled with the urge to laugh. Perhaps she should add insanity to the list of reasons she couldn’t find a husband, as well. He looked up at her and the urge died. He was so serious, his eyes earnest as they caught hers. They were so very blue. She felt her breath catch again, the same as when she had first seen him.

“The duke wants to be assured you are not presently in love with someone so that he can be assured of your complete affection and devotion.” His eyes pinned her.

“Oh, um… no.” Oddly, she felt like she just lied, but only because presently she couldn’t stop looking at Mr. Calder, and she couldn’t stop thinking how very handsome he was. But none of that meant she loved him, it was just a simple observation of his attractiveness.

“No?” He questioned.

Her heart began to beat a little faster. “No. My heart is claimed by no one.”

He bent his head and scribbled on his notepad.