The Beautiful One (24 page)

“Will,” she said as kindly as she could, “I don't want to get married.”

Anger tightened his mouth. “
Why
won't you marry me?”

She could feel her traitorous eyes filling with tears and she blinked them away fiercely. She'd taken care of herself all her life. She'd never been a slave to emotion, and she wasn't going to crumble now.

“Please don't push me,” she said, hating the huskiness in her voice. “I have my reasons.”

“What are you keeping from me? What reasons?”

“I can't say.”

“Is it something to do with that man who imposed on you? Do you worry that he's pursuing you?” A fierce, possessive light came into his eyes. “Because I can protect you. I would protect you from anything, Anna. And anyone.”

“No,” she said, forcing the lie. She had no choice, though her heart ached to accept what he was offering.

His expression darkened. “Is there another man you care for? Is that it?”

“No! There is no one but you.”

“Then stay with me.”

She folded her hands carefully in front of her skirts. “Will, you've come to mean so much to me. I've treasured our time together, but what more do we really have besides stolen moments?”

Will saw in Anna's eyes what she needed him to say, what her question really was.

Do
you
love
me?

He'd loved the fun they'd had, the light and pleasure she'd brought into his life. And it wasn't just that. He wanted her around, needed her with him. She was
special
—though he hated the word as soon as he thought it, because it didn't even begin to do her justice. But how could he pin down the way she bedeviled him so deliciously and how she kept him on his toes? How she stirred him in about a million different ways and just plain made him so damned happy?

But he'd known the pain that love could bring, and he'd been careful not to let himself fall deeper.

For the first time, though, he allowed himself to think that he maybe he'd been wrong. That maybe he was coming to love her.

But he wasn't ready and he couldn't say the words yet. He needed time. And he wouldn't have that if she left.

“Of course we have more than just stolen moments.” He reached for her hands and gently rubbed the backs of them, feeling the splay of her fine, delicate bones. She was so feisty that he could almost forget she might also be vulnerable.

He knew then that he'd been allowing himself to ignore what he should have realized: that she'd fallen in love with him. All the time they'd been playing and frolicking together, he'd been avoiding the very real possibility that she would come to care deeply for him.

He was disgusted with himself for choosing not to see.

But he'd offered her marriage. If she loved him, why wouldn't she accept and trust that the bond they shared would develop into something truly fine?

She looked away from him and said in a dull voice, “Even if I wanted to say yes, this is preposterous. I'm a doctor's daughter and you are a viscount. I know nothing of your world.”

“I don't care.”

“But you would, sooner or later. You've been shut away for so long that you've forgotten what it's like to be among your peers.”

He brought his hand to her jaw and gently turned her face toward his. “Surely you've noticed that I'm not so very conventional a man. Despite my behavior over the past year, I am no hermit, and doubtless will not be always at Stillwell. But I'm my own man, and I care not one whit about how others think I should choose to live.”

“Yes,” she said in a husky voice that, coupled with the shine of incipient tears in her eyes, pierced his heart. “I believe that to be true. It's one of the things I love about you. But you see, that's the problem. I want love with you. And we cannot share that, can we?”

He wanted to speak the words she wanted to hear, but he couldn't. Those words were lodged somewhere deep inside where he'd locked them away. Though he was beginning to believe there might be a key to them after all.

“What if I told you I thought I could love you?” he said finally.

“I would think it was pity talking. And I would hate it.”

“I just need more time,” he said.

“I can't.” She stepped away from him. “Please don't forget about the hundred pounds.”

The day of the ball dawned gray and rainy, and despite the bustling of servants going about last-minute preparations, the manor held that air of heavy stillness often brought by dreary weather. Anna felt it entirely in concert with her mood.

She refused to even begin to worry about whether the marquess would appear, or if any of the guests at the ball might have seen
The
Beautiful
One
. It should be easy to slip away early the next morning since everyone would sleep late. She'd already written farewell notes to Lizzie and Judith, and she would pack up her small bag that afternoon.

In the late morning, partly as a way to keep Lizzie's excitement about the ball from overtiring her and partly to distract herself, Anna suggested they read a play together aloud. They sat by the fire in the schoolroom while the rain pattered outside. She chose a farce, hoping it would lighten her own spirits, and did her best to enter into its silliness with a very gay Lizzie, though her heart wasn't really in it.

Just as they were putting the book away preparatory to eating the sandwiches Cook had sent up, Dart appeared to deliver a packet to Anna. She took it and knew by its thickness that it contained the hundred pounds. She slipped it into her pocket, where it lay with a leaden heaviness until they left the schoolroom in the afternoon to begin preparing for the ball.

Letting Lizzie go ahead of her off to her bath, Anna took the packet out and looked inside. The money was there, but she was disappointed that there was no note, even though she knew it was foolish of her to want one. They had nothing more to say to each other.

As she passed a high, round window near the top of the stairs, she stopped to look out toward the cottages, guessing, almost sensing, that he was there. Perhaps whitewashing, she thought, feeling tears burn at the back of her eyes as she remembered what they had shared in the cottage, and all the other things that had happened at Stillwell.

She took a deep breath and pressed together traitorous lips that wanted to quiver and turn down. She wouldn't torment herself with thoughts of what would never be.

* * *

She was really going to leave.

Will plunked a flat rock on the wall and reached for another one to place next to it. Beside him, Tommy, in his shirtsleeves like Will, was selecting rocks and placing them close to hand. They'd been at work on a dry stone wall for one of the cottages since the rain had tapered to a drizzle before noon. Now, in the late afternoon, the sun was finally coming out.

How could Anna have rejected the security and companionship he'd offered? He couldn't believe she wasn't going to give what was between them a chance.

What
was
between
them
.

He frowned and picked up a large, oblong stone.

“Easy,” Tommy said as Will swung it into place with a clunk. “It's not as if we're going to finish this today.”

Will reached for another rock.

“You're wretched company again,” Tommy said cheerfully.

Will stopped and straightened, rubbing his battered hands. “Sorry,” he said. “You're right.”

“Has it ever occurred to you, Brother, that you use work to avoid other things?”

“Yes, damn it.”

“You know,” Tommy said, with a sidelong glance, “I can't help but to have noticed a certain
simmering
between you and Anna.”

Another stone slammed into place. “A simmering.”

“An attraction. Rather a lot of sizzle.”

“All right, I get the idea.” Will paused over the pile of stones, needing to choose another one but not really looking at them.

“Are you going to do anything about it?”

“I already proposed. More than once. And was rejected.”

Tommy whistled. “I knew she was special.”

Will gave him a look. “Nice words from a brother.”

“What did you expect? You've been locked away here for a year, and I'm sorry to say it but you were getting to be terrible company. Brooding, morose… I sometimes thought you were punishing yourself for being the only one left of the pair of you.”

Will grunted. “I suppose I was.”

“I loved Ginger too. She was a great lady. But Anna's great too, in different ways. She has this fearless quality I admire. And I rather suppose she's needed to be…”

“With the beast of Stillwell Hall?”

Tommy laughed and tossed his work gloves by the stone pile. “Well, I for one am ready to quit now. It's getting late and we have a ball for which to dress.”

“Go,” Will said. “I'll be along shortly.”

Tommy, who seemed inordinately excited about the ball for someone who'd arrived at Stillwell disgusted with such things, left with a spring in his step.

Will leaned his back against the wall and gazed at the cottages. They looked good. Ginger would have been pleased. She also would have told him to stop delaying and finish them up so the tenants could move in.

With a rueful sigh, he went over to the sign that Anna had had sent over and took up the tools he'd brought with him that morning.

An hour later, he surveyed his work with satisfaction. The
e
in “Hamlet” was a little messy, but it would do. He propped it against the outside of the wall and made a note to have Norris order a stand from the ironmonger.

Picking up his coat, he walked past the cottages, strolling until he reached the rise of a small hill not far to the east. He walked up and stood at the top and looked about him at the grounds of Stillwell, at wet meadows and woods sparkling in the sunlight. In the distance, dark specks that were farmers at work and white specks that were sheep showed against fields already hinting at the bounty summer would bring. The pond where he and Anna had frolicked peeked out from its surrounding wood with a sunlit twinkle.

He realized how much contentment these sights now brought him. Even the manor was remarkably spruce and comfortable now that Judith and Anna had refurnished it. Happiness had crept back into his life when he hadn't been looking.

At first he'd thought of Anna as a respite from the anger and pain of his existence. But what had grown between them had gone far beyond that. He loved her pluck, though it frequently bedeviled him, and he loved the playfulness that lurked just beneath her calm surface. Never mind that just the thought of her made his mind spin fantasies.

He had her to thank for the way he and Lizzie had come to care for one another. And he never would have let Judith stay even one extra moment if Anna hadn't been there to… What was it she did? It was something intangible, something he could feel alive in him now, a goodness that he'd never thought he'd want to experience again.

Love.

He'd been playing a one-sided game with her, using passion to maneuver her into marriage for his own needs, not thinking of how she might be hurt. So badly done of him, but maybe underneath it all had been a depth of emotion he hadn't yet been able to admit.

She thought he'd offered marriage out of pity, but nothing could have been further from the truth: she was the strongest person he knew. Brave enough to let him know she loved him even though he'd done so many things wrong.

He respected her, and he loved her. And she was leaving tomorrow.

He set off for the manor, where all were gathering in readiness for a ball he had not wanted and now knew to be his last best chance.

* * *

A beautiful garnet satin gown had been waiting for Anna when she returned to her room that afternoon, along with a pair of garnet-colored dancing slippers adorned with black embroidery. A simple jet necklace lay across the gown, the perfect finishing touch from a man who was very good at details.

Some would say she had no business wearing things clearly meant for a fine lady, but she swept them off the bed with a bittersweet smile and got dressed.

The hour of the ball was drawing near. She could hear an orchestra tuning below, and lively laughter, but she waited until the last minute before slipping downstairs to the grand black-and-white-marble foyer just as the first guests were arriving. Her bag was packed for the next day, but she wasn't going to think about leaving tonight. Tonight was for happiness.

As she reached the foyer, her eyes were instantly drawn to Will, a few paces away from the stairs. He was heart-stoppingly handsome in a black satin coat with a crisp white shirt and fancy evening cravat. His dark brown hair was, of course, devoid of any hint of the wood shavings and whitewash she'd sometimes seen there and was neatly brushed.

His midnight eyes fell on her, their expression unreadable, and his mouth had a serious slant. He seemed about to speak to her, but an older couple just arriving claimed his attention, and all he could do was shoot Anna a dark look as she breezed past him and approached Judith.

Judith leaned close. “You look wonderful, Anna.”

She blushed and thanked her.

“The garnet and black are a perfect accent for your raven hair,” Judith continued. “You are glowing.”

“Stop, stop,” Anna laughed. “You'll make my head swell.”

Judith was fingering a beautiful pearl on a ribbon around her neck. “Isn't this lovely?” she said. “Grandville gave it to me. It was his mother's.”

Anna smiled, feeling her heart break a little more. “It's perfect on you. And you should always wear sage satin—it brings out the green in your eyes.”

There ensued a great deal of greeting and welcoming, until the tide of guests finally began to abate and Will indicated they should enter the ballroom. Anna knew an inward sense of relief that none of the guests seemed to take any notice of her beyond polite interest; clearly,
The
Beautiful
One
hadn't made its way to this group of country folk.

The lemony scent of lilies of the valley met them at the door to the ballroom, along with the soft fragrance of the roses that had been mingled in large vases with the wildflowers the servants had gathered. Several polished, gleaming walnut tables that had been rescued from the attic held refreshments, while groupings of handsome gilt chairs upholstered in pale blue brocade stood to the sides of the dance floor. Three enormous landscape paintings contributed to the grandeur the large room had been meant to have.

The grand crystal chandelier was lit, lively music was playing, and the happy guests looked ready to dance. All heads turned with pleasure as Will took Lizzie's hand and Tommy claimed Anna's and they all assumed their places in line. Judith was there too, led out by a handsome blond man Anna thought was the mayor. The music began, and Anna felt a surge of happiness to see them all dancing.

Will had asked her to join this family, and she wanted nothing more. But it was impossible. He'd said he might come to love her, but who knew if that would happen? Without love, they'd never have a chance of braving the disaster those drawings would bring. She needed to take her scandalous self far away from these people for whom she'd come to care so deeply.

But tonight, she'd savor the joy of knowing that Will, Lizzie, Tommy, and Judith had a very good chance of being just the kind of family each of them needed.

Hardly had the dance ended when she was approached by a Mr. Hartwell, who bowed and asked her to dance. As the music carried them through the steps, Anna realized that she hadn't danced since the last gathering she'd attended at the modest assembly rooms in Cheldney, and the last person she'd danced with then had been Mr. Rawlins. But he was not someone she wanted to think of on this magical night.

After Mr. Hartwell, another gentleman asked her to dance, and so it went, so that she sat out not a single dance. The neighbors all seemed to be very kind.

She saw Tommy dancing with Lizzie, and it was obvious that whatever had been causing friction between them the day before had been resolved.

She could not, unfortunately, keep her eyes from wandering toward Will. He danced with a succession of pretty ladies, including the exquisite Miss Chittister, who wore a gown of gleaming gold. She and the viscount looked very fine together, and Anna hated the sight. She forced herself to focus all her attention on her partner, who had many things to say on the subject of crops.

When that dance was over, Anna was ready to join Judith, who was sitting and happily looking about the room and tapping her toes. The opening bars of a waltz had been played, and Anna looked forward to watching the dancers glide about the room.

But before she could take a seat, she felt a hand on her arm and there was Viscount Grandville. Will.

He bowed elegantly, and her heart turned over as she remembered the playful way he'd ordered her around at the folly, and how warm and hard and good his body had felt against hers. Tonight, he was magnificent in his black satin clothes and silver-buckled dancing shoes, a smile of playful arrogance teasing his lips and something unreadable in his eyes.

“Well, Anna,” he said, his deep voice sending a shiver along the top of her shoulders, “you have danced with nearly every man here tonight. Will you dance with me now?”

“Yes.”

He led her out to the floor and they began the steps. He was a marvelous dancer, making her feel as if she were floating and yet anchored by his sure lead. He bent low to whisper in her ear.

“You look beautiful, Anna.”

“Thank you for the gown,” she murmured. She looked up to see him gazing at her intently. “I love it.”

His eyes held hers, as if they would impart some secret message. “The gown does become you. It sets you off admirably, just as a jewel shines best near a light. But even in your sackcloth you have always had the power to stir me.”

It felt as if their hearts, so near in space just then, were beating together as one. And she knew that even if he asked her for another dance she must not accept, or she would blurt out something about her feelings, or weaken to the proposal she feared he might make again. And so she let the music enfold them in stolen moments and let herself love him silently, as though the night were a happy dream.