The Handmaiden's Necklace (9 page)

Rafe deepened the kiss and her palms slid over the lapels of his coat, up, up, until her arms encircled his neck. For an instant, she was back in the apple orchard, kissing him with all her heart, with all of the love she felt for him.

Then her eyes filled with tears. This wasn’t the apple orchard and she was no longer in love.

Danielle jerked away, trembling all over, loathing herself for what she’d let happen.

“I had to know,” he said softly.

Dani backed away, trying to ignore the taste of him that
lingered on her lips. “It meant nothing. Your kiss stirred old memories. It was nothing more than that.”

“Perhaps.”

“It’s getting late. I have to go back in.” She started to turn, but Rafe caught her arm.

“Listen to me, Danielle. There is still time to cancel the wedding. Instead of marrying Richard, I want you to marry me.”

She just stood there, staring in disbelief. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am completely serious.”

“That night at the ball…I saw you dancing with your betrothed, the Earl of Throckmorton’s daughter.”

“It was clear we didn’t suit. I spoke to her father before I left England. He asked that the betrothal be ended.”

Dani shook her head. “This can’t happen, Rafael. Whatever existed between us is over. It ended five years ago.”

“It isn’t over, not until the record is set straight. Marry me and return to England as my duchess. All of London—all of England—will know it was I who wronged you, not the other way around.”

“I don’t care what people think—not anymore.”

“You can go back to your home, return to your family and friends.”

“I have very little family and even fewer friends. In time I’ll have friends and family here.”

Rafe’s jaw hardened. In the flickering torchlight, his eyes appeared a deeper shade of blue. She knew that look, knew the determination it revealed, and a thread of uncertainty filtered through her.

“I had hoped I wouldn’t have to resort to coercion to see this matter done, but you’re leaving me no choice.”

The color drained from her face. “What are you saying? Are you…are you threatening me?”

Rafael reached out and touched her cheek. “I’m trying to do what is right. I believe I can make you happy. I don’t believe Richard Clemens ever will. Accept my offer of marriage.”

Her gaze locked with his. “Or you’ll do what, Rafael?”

He straightened to his full height, making him look even taller than he usually did. “I’ll let word escape of The Scandal. People here will believe it’s true, Richard’s mother, his friends. You won’t be able to prove your innocence here any more than you could in England.”

She started shaking. “I told Richard about The Scandal before he ever proposed. Unlike you, he believed I was telling the truth.”

“I was wrong. It doesn’t change what needs to happen.”

A lump began to thicken in her throat. “I can’t believe you would do something like this, that you would hurt me this way again. I can’t believe you would stoop so low.” Tears welled in her eyes and she glanced away, refusing to let him see.

Rafe reached out and caught her chin, gently turning her to face him. “I’ll make you happy, Danielle. I swear I will.”

The tears in her eyes spilled over onto her cheeks. “If you force me to do this, I’ll never forgive you, Rafael.”

He brought her trembling hand to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss against the back. All the while his gaze remained on her face.

“That is a chance I have to take.”

D
anielle broke her engagement to Richard Clemens the day after she and Caro returned from the country, five days before her wedding. She had no choice, she told herself. She didn’t doubt for a moment that Rafael would do exactly as he vowed. If she refused his offer of marriage, he would ruin her, just as he had before.

Dani loathed him for it.

And she didn’t understand. Why was Rafe so insistent? Was his guilt so strong, his code of honor such that he believed marrying her was the only way he could redeem himself?

It was certainly possible.

At the news there would be no wedding, Richard had ranted and raved, begged and pleaded, tried every way he knew how to convince her to change her mind.

“What have I done, Danielle? Just tell me and I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“It’s nothing you’ve done, Richard. It is simply that we aren’t…aren’t well suited. I didn’t realize that until now.”

“We’ve made plans, Danielle. We were going to share a future.”

“I’m sorry, Richard, truly I am, but that is simply the way it is, the way it has to be.”

His temper inched up. “You can’t just walk away. What about my mother? She’s spent a fortune on the wedding. What about my children…my friends? What will I say to them, how will I explain?”

“You would never have let me be a real mother to your children, and if they truly are your friends, they’ll understand that sometimes these things happen.”

Richard’s face turned crimson. “Well, they don’t happen to me!” He stomped out of the house and Danielle watched through the window as he stormed down the front porch steps, climbed into his carriage and slammed the door.

Her eyes burned, but the pain she’d expected to feel did not come. Turning away from the window, she sighed into the silence his departure had left in the parlor. Hoping to spare Richard’s pride, she hadn’t mentioned the duke, hadn’t told Richard that she would be marrying another man, that she would be returning to England to become the Duchess of Sheffield.

She didn’t tell him that Rafael was blackmailing her, that she had no choice but to break her engagement.

She felt like crying but couldn’t seem to summon the tears. It bothered her that she wasn’t more upset, that mostly she was angry—and afraid. What sort of future would she have with a ruthless man like Rafael, a man she no longer knew and did not trust?

It bothered her even more that it was only when she
thought of Rafe that her emotions seemed to spin out of control.

Dear God, how had her life become so confused?

A warm August sun beat through the wavy glass panes two days later. After luncheon, she and Aunt Flora were going shopping, anything to get out of the house and away from her troubled thoughts, at least for a while.

Unfortunately, before it was time to leave, Rafe appeared on her doorstep, hat in hand, looking far too handsome to suit her.

“I received your note,” he said as she led him into the parlor and closed the sliding doors. “I’m glad you acted so swiftly.”

Dani cast him a glance. She had sent him a message telling him that she had broken her engagement. She hoped he could read the bitterness between the lines. “You gave me no choice. I acted swiftly, hoping to make things less painful for Richard.”

Danielle sat down in a high-backed Windsor chair and Rafe sat down on the rose velvet sofa in front of the hearth.

“The
Nimble
will be sailing for England the end of next week. I’ve booked passage for the two of us, as well as your aunt and your lady’s maid, Miss Loon. I would like us to be married before we leave.”

“What!” She practically leapt from her chair. “That’s impossible! Why are you in such a hurry? Why can’t we wait until we get back to England?”

She could tell by the stiffness that settled in his shoulders how greatly he was striving for control.

“We’ve waited five years already, Danielle. I want this
matter settled once and for all, settled as it should have been then. Now that the decision has been made, I would see us wed, and soon. With your aunt’s permission, I shall make arrangements for a small ceremony to take place here in the garden the day before we sail. We’ll celebrate our marriage in a more proper manner once we’re returned to London.”

“But…but that is…is less than a week away. You can’t possibly expect me to…to…”

“To what, Danielle?”

She took a deep breath, fighting to maintain her composure. “Our lives have changed. I don’t know you anymore, Rafael. I need time to get used to the idea of…of sharing a bed with you. I can’t just…just…”

The corner of his mouth edged up. “There was a time you were looking forward to sharing a bed with me.”

Her cheeks went warm. She remembered that time all too well, remembered it even more clearly since the night he had kissed her in the garden. Still, she wasn’t ready to take the steps that would lead to that kind of intimacy, wasn’t ready to give him even more control over her than he had taken already.

She lifted her chin. “So far you’ve made all sorts of demands to which I have unwillingly agreed. Now I am asking for something in return. I want time, Rafael. Time to accept the fact that you are to be my husband.”

There was something in his face. For an instant, he glanced away. “All right, that seems a fair-enough request. You want time. I am willing to give it to you. I won’t make any husbandly demands on you until we are returned to England.”

Fortified by the battle she had just won, she grew braver. “Perhaps it would be best if we kept it a marriage of convenience. We could both lead our own separate lives and—”

“Like bloody hell!” Rafe took a breath and clamped down on his temper. “You are smart enough to know that isn’t going to happen. I’ve wanted you since the day I met you, Danielle. That is one thing that hasn’t changed. I hope that in time, you may again feel that same desire for me.”

Danielle didn’t say more. Rafael Saunders was a strong, virile, potently attractive man. As a girl, she had lain awake at night wondering what it might be like for him to make love to her. As much as she wished it weren’t so, part of her still did.

“Then I take it that we are agreed,” she said.

“Though I shall regret it every day for the length of the voyage, we are agreed.”

Caroline Loon stood in the alley behind the house on Arch Street. “Robert!”

He strode up to her, leaned over and gave her a swift kiss on the cheek. “My sweet Caroline.”

Caro blushed. They had been back in the city for most of a week, seen each other every day since their return. Caro had been surprised to discover that the merchant, Edmund Steigler, lived right there in Philadelphia. Which meant Robert McKay lived there, too.

The night she had met him in the stable had been magical. When she had first arrived, he had guided her out to an open field next to the barn and pointed out a lovely little bay foal, cavorting next to its mother.

“His name is Dandy. Wentz’s eldest daughter named him for the dandelions he loves to eat.”

Caro laughed. “He’s marvelous.” They spent time with the horses, Robert showing her Jacob Wentz’s blooded mares and stallions, showing a surprising knowledge of horses and obviously enjoying himself.

“One of my mother’s cousins has an estate in the country and my mother often took me there to visit.”

“What about your father?”

Robert shook his head. “I never knew him. He died before I was born.”

As darkness fell, Robert led her up on a knoll overlooking the valley, guiding her over to the trunk of a fallen tree, where they each took a seat.

“The valley is lovely,” she said, looking out over the rolling hills outlined by rays of silver moonlight. “Perhaps once we are settled in Mr. Clemens’s house, I shall have a chance to draw it.”

“You like to draw?”

“I paint watercolor landscapes, but only for fun. I am only mildly proficient.”

“I’ll wager you are a very good painter.” He reached down and picked up a twig, twirled it absently in his hand. “I like to carve things. It helps to pass the time.”

She looked at him in the moonlight, admiring the strong line of his jaw, thinking how handsome he was. “What sort of things do you carve?”

“Toys, mostly. Wooden horses, toy soldiers, miniature carriages, things like that.” He smiled. “Perhaps someday we’ll be able to make a trade—one of my wooden horses for one of your paintings.”

Caro smiled back at him. “I would like that. I shall consider that we have struck a bargain.”

She and Robert sat on the knoll in the moonlight, talking till well past midnight. Time seemed to fly as they laughed and talked, Caro speaking with an ease she had never felt with a man before.

She smiled to think of the days they’d spent since their return to the city, of the amazing number of things they had found in common. They both loved opera and poetry, both loved to read, both loved animals and children—Robert hoped to have a large family one day.

She told him about her childhood and how her family had been poor but so very happy. She told him about the summer five years ago when her parents had died and how she had grieved for them. All the while, Robert had held her hand and simply listened, truly listened.

And during those days, Caro had discovered a good deal about Robert McKay. Though the next four years of his life belonged to another man, Robert laughed often and sincerely. He seemed to keep a cheerful attitude no matter the circumstances.

No matter the abuse he took from the man who owned him.

“I’m his manservant,” Robert once told her. “He could have given me any of a dozen different jobs, but he wanted me in service to him, personally. The man thrives on lording over others.”

“How do you mean?”

“Steigler takes great pride in the fact I graduated from Cambridge and still have to scrape mud off his boots. I speak the King’s English better than he does, and I’m far
better read, but I still have to prepare his bath and mend his socks and shirts.”

“Oh, Robert.”

He smiled thinly. “He took a horse whip to me once in front of a group of his friends for correcting him about a Shakespearean play.”

“Dear God, Robert—and you never tried to escape?”

He shrugged his wide shoulders, moving the fabric of his full-sleeved shirt. “Steigler’s a powerful man in this country. He’s made it clear he would have me hunted down. And the debt I owe him is real. I made a bargain with the devil. I have to live with it for the next four years.”

Robert didn’t seem to mind his circumstances, but Caro could hardly bear it.

In the short time since she had met him, Caro had fallen in love with Robert McKay.

At the sound of voices in the hallway, Danielle looked up from the book she was reading, Defoe’s
Robinson Crusoe,
a novel she had brought with her from England. Framed in the doorway, Caro stood next to a handsome brown-haired man Danielle knew must be Robert McKay.

Since their return from the country, Caro had mentioned him a dozen times a day. It was obvious she was enamored of McKay, though Robert was an indentured servant. Danielle worried the man might try to take advantage of a sweet, naive young woman like her friend.

Now that she saw how attractive he was, she was even more concerned.

Though Caro was a year older than Dani, she had little experience with men. Dani just hoped Caro’s common sense
and innate ability to judge people’s character would be enough to guide her in matters of the heart.

“I am sorry to bother you, Danielle, but Robert stopped by for a moment and I was hoping you might have time to meet him.”

“Of course I have time.” Dani had been wanting to do just that since the first time Caro had mentioned him. She set her book down on the sofa beside her and came to her feet. “Please…both of you come in.”

The couple walked into the parlor together, Robert’s hand resting lightly on Caro’s slim waist. They didn’t really know each other well enough for that, but somehow, looking at them, it seemed perfectly natural.

“Danielle, I’d like you to meet my friend, Robert McKay, the man I’ve been telling you about.”

Dani smiled. “Mr. McKay…it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure is mine, Miss Duval.” He bowed over her hand as if he were a member of the nobility instead of an indentured servant and Dani cast him an assessing glance.

“You’ve quite impressed my friend Caro,” she said.

Robert’s smile widened. “As she has impressed me, Miss Duval.” His gaze went to Caro and there was something so warm in his expression that some of Danielle’s uncertainty eased.

They talked a while, about the weather, about the city, then Robert asked Danielle if she was enjoying the novel she was reading.

She arched a burnished brow. “You’ve read it?”

“Actually, I have. It’s been some time ago, but I enjoyed it very much.”

Aunt Flora walked in just then, ready to leave for their
planned shopping excursion, only mildly surprised to see a handsome man standing in the parlor.

Another round of introductions were made, Aunt Flora seemingly unconcerned that she, a countess, was being introduced to a servant. But then, this was America. There was no royalty here and no one had a title. They were all growing used to the notion that here, men were treated, for the most part, as equals.

Still, it was clearly evident that Robert McKay was more than merely a servant.

“My lady,” he said in his perfect, high-born English, bowing elaborately over Aunt Flora’s hand.

“So this is the man who has been wooing our friend away from the house,” Flora said, eyeing McKay from head to foot.

“Guilty, my lady, as charged. And I assure you, Miss Loon is extremely delightful company.”

More polite conversation followed, McKay not the least intimidated by the fact that Flora Chamberlain was a high-ranking member of the aristocracy. Aunt Flora glanced shrewdly at Caro then back to their guest. “Perhaps you have time to join us for tea, Mr. McKay.”

Robert seemed sincerely regretful. “I’m afraid I must decline. I’ve duties to fulfill and I’ve stayed longer than I should have already. Perhaps another time, my lady.”