Regina Scott (11 page)

M
eredee woke with a start. Golden light glittered through the slats on the window shutters. She’d over-slept!

She threw back the covers and called for a maid to help her dress. In truth, she had spent a difficult night, falling asleep well after the inn had finally quieted. Small wonder she’d slept in. Unfortunately, Mrs. Price would be sure to see this as willful disobedience after yesterday’s argument. Worst of all, she’d missed the morning’s low tide!

In her cream-colored walking dress with the butter-yellow overskirt, she rapped at her stepmother’s door and entered when bid. To her surprise, Mrs. Price was already dressed in a white muslin gown gathered at her neck and cuffs, and sitting up reading a novel they’d borrowed from the subscription library.

“That little maid helped me dress,” she explained when Meredee stammered an apology. “She hasn’t
your gentle touch, but her work will suffice.” She set the book down primly in her lap. “We will say no more about yesterday, if you please.”

Meredee took that to mean she was forgiven. She could not help wondering, however, whether her step mother would allow the matter to be forgotten.

She learned the answer the moment they set foot in the spa house later that morning. The day was bright, the air warm. Many of the notables strolled the sands. A few lounged in the cool of the spa house, their conversation a low murmur like the waves. Sir Trevor was promenading about the room, looking every bit the commanding gentleman in his navy coat and tan trousers. Lady Phoebe in a green-sprigged muslin gown giggled on his arm, while Chase watched from near the windows.

Mrs. Price clutched Meredee’s arm. “What is that man doing with Algernon’s intended?”

Meredee sighed. “Lady Phoebe is not Algernon’s intended until he makes his intentions clear to the world.”

“And he explained why he cannot do so! Oh, I do not like how she dotes on Sir Trevor. Go interrupt them.”

“I shall do nothing of the kind,” Meredee said, but her stepmother drew herself up with a hiss like an offended goose.

“Sir Trevor is an old family friend,” Meredee re
minded her. “I am persuaded Lady Phoebe sees him as another brother.”

“We shall see,” her stepmother muttered, narrowing her eyes on the pair. “I will not feel comfortable leaving her with the fellow until I am certain. If you will not move yourself for your brother, I will.” She released Meredee’s arm and stalked across the room, her skirts rustling as if they were every bit as agitated as she was.

“Has my sister done something to offend your family?” Chase asked, strolling up to take Mrs. Price’s place at Meredee’s side.

She pasted on a bright smile. “Lord Allyndale, how nice to see you.”

He bowed. Like Sir Trevor, he wore the navy coat and tan trousers that proclaimed him a man about town. “A pleasure as always,” he said as he straightened. “And I must thank you for that ointment. It was very soothing.”

“To your skin or your nose?” Meredee teased.

He grinned at her. “Both, I assure you. It was a relief to be able to tie my cravat again.”

And rather nicely, too, she thought, noting the more complicated fold. Even Algernon would have approved.

At the thought of her stepbrother, her smile very nearly slipped. Something must have shown on her face, for he took a step closer.

“Is something wrong, Meredee?”

Entirely too many things. She wanted to simply enjoy Chase’s company, but thoughts of yesterday’s argument with her family kept intruding, as did her realization of how quickly Chase was wedging him self into her heart.

“I’m just a little tired today,” she said. “Please think nothing of it.”

“You’re certain?” He peered closer, and she lowered her gaze lest he see the turmoil inside her. “I intended to wish both you and your stepmother a good morning, but she left before I could do so. She seemed upset, as well.”

Meredee glanced up to locate her stepmother. Mrs. rice had stopped Lady Phoebe and Sir Trevor, and engaged them in conversation. At the moment, she seemed quite animated, her hands moving with her words. Lady Phoebe nodded, and the ribbon on her rose-covered bonnet waved in time.

“Is my sister the cause?” Chase asked.

Oh, why had she made Algernon that promise? She’d said she wouldn’t betray him, but she couldn’t lie to Chase. “My stepmother was concerned that Sir Trevor was perhaps too intent on maintaining your sister’s company,” she said. “She thought her presence might give Lady Phoebe the excuse to decamp, if she so desired.”

His brows rose, and he glanced after her step mother again. “How extraordinarily kind of her to
notice.” His look speared Meredee. “Are all the Prices intent on rescuing my sister from her own follies?”

No, my lord, one of them would very much like to encourage her.
“Forgive us, my lord. It isn’t our place to involve ourselves in your affairs.”

“And what if I should ask you to involve yourself?”

She regarded him with a frown. He was watching her intently again, as if the very air he breathed depended on her answer.

“What do you mean?” Meredee asked.

He glanced at his sister as if to be certain she was in good hands, then offered Meredee his arm. “Would you take a turn around the room with me?”

She ought to refuse. The longer she was in his company, the more she was tempted to blurt out Algernon’s secret. Yet his question intrigued her. Why would he want to involve her and her family any more than they already were? He seemed so self-assured, self-controlled. Though he was respectful of people who approached, at church and at the spa, she was certain he gave his confidences only to a privileged few. Was she to be one of them?

Her heart fluttering in her chest, she put her hand on his.

“You have probably realized by now one of the reasons I came to Scarborough,” he murmured as they passed several gentlemen seated along the pale green wall. The elderly Mr. Openshaw waved his good hand
at her, and she smiled in greeting. “I wanted to provide my sister with a safer environment.”

“Safer?” Meredee peered up at his craggy profile. “Was London so very dangerous?”

“For Phoebe, yes. Too many suitors, and too many of them unsuitable.” When Meredee frowned, he explained. “Fortune hunters, Meredee. Or worse—those who fancied themselves in love but who lacked the substance to be the husband Phoebe needs.”

Algernon came dangerously close to that description. “And Lady Phoebe could not see them for what they were?”

He snorted. “My sister has trouble seeing beyond the next pretty gown.”

Though she’d had similar thoughts, she could not help but be disappointed at his sharp assessment of his own sister. “I think you malign her, my lord.”

“Perhaps,” he allowed. “Sir Trevor offered the same caution. But you will allow that my sister has a way of seeking to gratify momentary interests at the expense of more important matters.”

She couldn’t argue that, either. Lady Phoebe lived entirely in the moment, with little thought beyond what she wanted right then. “Surely that is only her youth,” Meredee protested.

“She takes after our mother,” he said. “Lady Allyndale was an ethereal creature, all bright emotion and delicacy. She was a great beauty, and much loved by those who knew her well.”

And nothing, nothing like Meredee. Was it not said that men often gravitated to women like their mothers? Why did Chase want to be anywhere near her? She resorted more often to logic than emotion. At the moment, she felt every one of her far-more-substantial curves, the strength of each of her far-from-ethereal steps.

“She sounds delightful,” she said, trying not to sigh.

“She was a fragile creature who had difficulty deciding what cap to wear and who worried herself to an early grave. Phoebe is no different. Few of the women I’ve met are any different. I will admit I despaired for most of womankind, until I met you.”

Meredee pulled up short, blinking. They had reached the windows overlooking the sea, and he stood beside her, back to any curious gazes, and brought her hand up to cradle it against his chest. “If I may say, Meredee, I find much to admire in you.”

She couldn’t speak. The warmth of his gaze, the pressure of his hand on hers, sent her senses spinning. Never had anyone looked at her with so tender a smile. Chase Dearborn, Lord Allyndale, had feelings for her!

Her heart started beating faster, and she waited for the familiar fear to demand her attention. Instead, a fierce yearning rose up inside her. She remembered the giddy days of courting, of holding hands, of laughing over tiny things that meant something only to the
two of them. She’d thought those days had died, that a part of her had died along with them. Now here was Chase, offering them to her again, and more.

What would it be like to be courted by someone who looked at her so sweetly, to feel his hand in hers, the brush of his lips in longing? To stand before God and His people and pledge their lives, their hearts to each other? To carry his children, to create their own family, people who loved and respected each other?

“You honor me,” she murmured.

“You honor me with your friendship,” he insisted. I have never met anyone like you.”

Oh, she had to stop him. If he continued like this, she’d either burst into tears or throw herself in his arms, and he’d think her just as emotional as his sister and mother. “Please, my lord,” she managed.

But he was clearly warming to his theme. “You are kind, considerate and full of uncommon good sense. Your loyalty, your character are unimpeachable.”

Once again, Algernon’s shadow darkened her thoughts. She dropped her gaze, trying not to squirm. “I am not such a paragon, my lord.”

“In my eyes you are. And that is why I find myself wishing to make you a proposal.”

Goodness, he would propose? Here? Now? She found it all too easy to imagine herself saying yes, being enfolded in those strong arms, accepting congratulations from her Scarborough friends. Mrs. Price
alone would swoon at the news. Meredee felt like swooning herself.

Oh, Lord, give me strength!
Her prayer went up even as her knees started to tremble. She pulled Chase to the side and came down hard on one of the chairs along the wall. “A proposal? Chase, this is so unexpected.”

“I realize that,” he said, taking the seat beside her but keeping a grip on her hand. “But I have given the matter considerable thought over the last two days, and it seems like the best course of action. Rest assured I will not take advantage of your generosity.”

Meredee managed to catch her breath. “I beg your pardon?”

“You are a noble and selfless creature, but I could not in good conscience ask you to chaperone my sister without some compensation for your time.”

“Your sister,” Meredee repeated numbly. “You’re proposing that I chaperone your sister?”

He nodded. “I believe you have much to offer her. Your character, your demeanor, will be a good example to her.”

She wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. What a fool he would think her if he knew where her thoughts had been heading. “So you would rather your sister be like me,” she said, unable to keep all the rancor from her tone, “a penniless spinster with little standing even in her own family.”

He paled. “Is that how they treat you? You deserve better, Meredee.”

And she deserved better than to be forced to serve yet again. Why did everyone persist in seeing her this way?

The greatest of you must be least. I came to serve, not to be served.

The gentle reproof humbled her. Yet even if she swallowed her pride, she knew his suggestion would never work. She pulled her hand from Chase’s. “I’m honored you’d extend me such trust, but I fear what you ask is impossible. My stepmother’s needs and the hunt for the
incarnata
take up all my time.”

“Bring your stepmother with you,” he said. “I’m sure Phoebe would be amused.”

He truly didn’t know much about women, particularly Phoebe and her stepmother, who she suspected were very much two peas in a pod. “Perhaps for the first few outings, but after that I fear no one will be amused.”

He chuckled. “You may be right. But Scarborough society is small enough that you should find plenty of opportunity for the two of them to be together and still find ways to amuse, like now.” He nodded to where his sister and Mrs. Price were chatting with Mr. Cranell and Colonel Williams. Sir Trevor had taken himself off and was glowering at the group from the far wall. It seemed the handsome baronet was just as protective of Lady Phoebe. Mrs. Barriston evidently
found Sir Trevor’s attentions interesting, for she was whispering in another woman’s ear while both women kept their gazes fastened on him.

“And as for the shell,” Chase continued, obviously intent on laying out the benefits of his odious plan, “I believe I have a solution to your problem, as well.” He leaned closer, and the scent of sandalwood teased her nose. “What if I were to post a reward for the capture of the
incarnata?
”

This time Meredee did laugh. “Capture? You make it sound like a dangerous animal.”

He smiled. “After hunting for it for two days, I can see that finding it will be no easy matter.” He reached inside his coat and pulled out a sheet of parchment. I could send this to the nearest newspaper.”

“Wanted,” Meredee read when he’d handed it to her, “a seashell of a rare salmon color, long and rounded, in two halves, unbroken in any way. If found acceptable, the bearer will be awarded the sum of one hundred pounds. Submit the shell to Number Four Newborough Street, Scarborough.”

“One hundred pounds!” Meredee handed the paper back to him with shaking fingers. “My lord, I cannot accept this.”

“Nonsense,” he replied, folding the page and slipping it back into his coat. “You will have no need to search for the
incarnata.
It will come to you.”

Perhaps, but after what a tempest! “With that
reward, half the town will be looking for it. I shudder to think of the crowds stampeding the beaches.”

“The fervor will be short-lived,” he assured her, leaning back as if well-pleased with himself. “The
incarnata
will either be found or people will realize it cannot be found so easily and give up the hunt. But I have no doubt with the number of hunters increased your shell cannot escape notice.”