The Bridal Contract (Darrington family Book 3) (10 page)

“She has her prejudices, the same as everyone else, and she likes things a certain way. When it comes to her family, I honestly believe she’d kill to protect us from what she considers unsavory people or situations.”

“Well, at least she cares. That’s something.”

“Does your mother not behave the same?”

Eloisa heaved a sigh. “I lost my parents to a fever that went through our village some years ago.” She turned to glance out the window then frowned. “Charles, Helen, and I had been visiting Mother’s family in Italy that winter just before travel was more or less suspended. Charles had bragged he could handle his sisters alone while touring. He wanted to shoulder more responsibility. No doubt he’d been promised something for the act.” She chuckled at the memory of her brother’s bravado. “Even back then his gambles didn’t pay. Helen and I were not exactly on our best behavior and eventually our aunts had to take us in hand.”

“You were a bit of a hoyden? I find that impossible to believe,” he teased, humor thick in his voice.

“Oh, I wouldn’t go that far.” She smiled into the darkness as she faced him. “Helen was wilder. I simply followed after her to keep her out of trouble, which meant some interesting scrapes.”

“Enjoyed Italy?”

“Yes. Each part of it is wonderful and so diverse. And the food is delectable. I don’t look it, but I can certainly eat my fair share. I wouldn’t mind returning someday.” Part of her good humor fled. “Although, now that Charles has effectively gone through his wife’s fortune, I rather doubt I’ll ever go anywhere again.”

“It is beautiful.” He rubbed a hand along his cheek and the scrape of fingers against stubble filled the silence. “Don’t despair. Perhaps the man you eventually marry will have the means enough to take you anywhere in the world you’d like to go.”

The rest of her jovial mood evaporated. Her stomach clenched. “I’m sure marriage isn’t in my future. Barring our engagement in name only, I was proposed to only once before, but he died before anything could come of it.”
And I’m soiled goods besides.
Perhaps Oliver’s mother was correct. Given her brother’s behavior, what respectable family would want to align themselves with hers?

“This would be the Peter you’ve spoken about before?” Interest hung on the words.

“Yes.” How curious the piercing sadness that usually accompanied talk of Peter came but wasn’t as acute. “He asked me to marry him the day before he followed his regiment away from me and England. He ended up dying in the first conflict he saw.”

“Where did he serve?”

“Eventually, somewhere in Spain. I was never completely sure. His family hadn’t been apprised of our engagement since he’d not had a chance to talk with them and he wished for it to be kept a secret until he announced it.” A small smile tugged at her mouth. “He was spontaneous, Peter was. I wasn’t that close to his family. Our people didn’t travel in the same circles, as his family was laborers. I never did receive all the details.” To this day, it pained her that she couldn’t break his promise and tell them they’d been intended.

“I see.” He drummed his fingers on his knee. “What was Peter’s surname?”

“Sedon.” The old thrill of saying that name aloud didn’t come.

“That sounds familiar. There was a fellow in my regiment with that name except his name was Jonathan.”

Eloisa sat up straighter. “That was him! Peter was his middle name and the one he wished to be called by, as there were entirely too many Jonathans in the family.” She peered through the gloom, but couldn’t read Oliver’s expression. “Did you know him?”

“I did. He had a way of making everyone around him laugh. Real genuine fellow.” Oliver nodded. “I liked him.” He leaned across the aisle, took her hand, and squeezed. “He was a fine young man and you should be proud of him. He died instantly if that’s any consolation.”

“Thank you.” Her voice caught and tears welled in her eyes. “At least he didn’t suffer much.”

“He must still be special if he continues to hold your heart so long after he died.” Was that a wistful note in his voice?

“Yes,” she whispered. The need to purge her secret grew overwhelming. “He made me promise I’d never be with another if he should fall.”

Was that a low-pitched growl that issued from Oliver?

“That’s a rather selfish thing to make any woman promise in those circumstances. You’re obviously still a vital woman, and though you’re not in the first blush of youth any longer, you still have much to offer an interested gentleman.” A rumble of anger threaded through the words.

“Yes, well, be that as it may, I’ve honored his wishes so far, though I’ve led more than a few men on a merry chase, if you believe the rumors.” Eloisa sighed, suddenly exhausted. No use wishing for different circumstances. “I’ve grown weary of talking about my prospects or lack thereof. Now that you’ve properly shocked your family regarding Daniela, what do you plan to do with her?”

“I haven’t decided. There are many options to consider.” He sounded guarded.

“Will you give her to an orphanage then?”
Please say no.
Surely he couldn’t be so cruel, not after coming to know the girl for the last week.

“Like I said, I’m still considering.”

“Oh, Oliver.” She settled against the squabs and closed her eyes, too tired to carry through with the exasperation in her voice. “Don’t be an arse like my brother.”

Two engagements to two completely different men. Neither of them ideal. Could she really compare Peter to Oliver? Yes, she’d kept Peter’s memory alive in her heart, but did he really hold the pieces of her soul together anymore? Even now, as she attempted to call forth his image in her mind’s eye, he appeared faded around the edges.

“Eloisa?” Someone shook her shoulder with a gentle touch. “Eloisa, wake up. We’re home.” Just before she opened her eyes, the touch drifted to the curls at one side of her face, brushed them back then retreated.

She blinked up at Oliver in the darkness. When had she come to be stretched out on her bench, sleeping, she had no idea, but he knelt in the aisle. “When did I fall asleep?”
How embarrassing.
She squirmed into a sitting position, and when she swung her legs to the floor, she brushed against Oliver’s side. Warmth and awareness swept through her limbs.

“Not long ago. One minute you were upright; the next, you’d slumped into an odd lump.” He climbed from the carriage then extended a hand to help her. “I moved you into a more comfortable position.”

Heat jumped into her cheeks. He’d had his hands on her body when she’d been dead to the world? The heat slid between her thighs and something deep inside awakened. “Thank you for not letting me tumble to the floor,” she murmured as she accepted his assistance outside the conveyance.

Confusion further complicated her already tumultuous emotions while she opened the gate and stepped into the garden. Oliver kept pace with a hand on the small of her back. Why did he feel the need to touch her, and why did she suddenly enjoy the comfort he gave? The sound of a window casement creaking open jerked her attention to a window on an upper level of Oliver’s house.

Golden illumination gleamed in the rectangular space and a woman’s silhouette appeared. Eloisa’s heartbeat raced. Did he have a mistress? “Who is that?” She hated how accusatory her question sounded.

Oliver followed her gaze. A chuckle escaped him. “That would be Susan, my housekeeper and cook. You met her that first day.”

“Ah.” Seconds later, a child’s form appeared at the window. It leaned outward and the moonlight showed Daniela, clad in a voluminous, white nightdress. Susan hovered close behind. “Why is your child not in bed?”

“I wouldn’t know as I’ve spent my last hours in your company.” But his voice had softened as he gazed at the girl.

As soon as Daniela spied him, a smile broke out over her face. She stuck a hand out the window, but Susan prevented her from going any further. “Papa! I missed you!”

“Oh, how sweet,” Eloisa murmured while her heart squeezed. She glanced at Oliver. His expression changed and brightened. His grin was wide and genuine, but it also held a note she’d never seen before, and it brought a whole new facet out to his personality. His eyes twinkled. Nay. They glowed with pride and familial love, and it tugged at her heart.

Good heavens, he’d finally fallen in love with his daughter and it was marvelous. Her heart labored as it worked despite the tight squeeze. She shoved at his shoulder. “Go home and tuck her in. She needs you, and if I’m not mistaken, you need her too.”

“I didn’t realize I did until this exact moment. It might be the height of foolishness, but I think I’m going to keep her regardless of whether she’s legitimately mine or not.” He laid a hand over his heart. “Thank you for consenting to dinner with me and the judgmental lot I’m connected to.” He leaned closed then planted a kiss on her cheek. “I knew I made a good choice in choosing you for this bridal contract. You’re a gem, Eloisa. Goodnight.”

The trouble was, she didn’t want to be a gem or a good chum or the responsible one. She held a hand to the cheek his kiss lingered on while he exited her garden then entered his own. As if she’d been turned to stone, she followed his progress up to his front door with her gaze then slumped once he’d disappeared behind it. Need prickled the hair at her nape and tightened her nipples beneath her bodice. A shiver rippled down her spine.

No, no, no! This can’t be allowed to happen. How can I betray Peter’s memory this way?

Slowly, as if she walked in a daze, Eloisa stumbled up her walk to her door. The contracted time couldn’t go by fast enough, yet neither did she want it to end. At least for now, she had Oliver’s ear and attention until the horrible day funds were transferred. Oh, what a cruel trick fate had played and continued to play.

But for the love of Helen, she’d suffer through and deny every bit of the budding feelings for Oliver. The alternative, betraying Peter’s memory or defying Oliver’s mother’s wishes, couldn’t be contemplated. Neither was conducive to the peace she craved, and Oliver was correct when he’d said she couldn’t fix everyone.

Not even herself.

Chapter Eight

Oliver woke to a frantic pounding on his front door that reverberated throughout the house. He turned over, willing the visitor to go away. As it was, the sun sat low on the horizon and he had returned home late last night from the dratted dinner party of his mother’s. He had no desire to rise from bed until at least noon.

The noise died soon enough and he settled more deeply into his pillows with a contented sigh. He’d accomplished all he’d set out to do last night: annoy his mother and hope she hated Eloisa enough to object strongly to the union. Which, Roberta being Roberta, she’d performed admirably.

The victory he’d felt last night faded. Oliver rolled over onto his back. He frowned at the ceiling. He hadn’t counted on just how strenuously his mother reacted, and then telling Eloisa she wasn’t good enough simply on the merit she had no title or money or respectable connections? No wonder both Felix and Charlotte had rebelled and fought for their partners. He’d thought it had been a great lark on both their counts when he’d heard the stories. Now he knew they hadn’t been exaggerated. They had genuinely fallen in love, and that must be stronger than any parental outrage.

Not that it mattered, for he didn’t love Eloisa. Their union wouldn’t last longer than the contracted month.

In his mind’s eye, he still saw her standing in the moonlight the night before, shortly before Daniela had called out to him. Eloisa had looked unaccountably lovely with her curls frosted with silver and the pearlescent light reflecting on the single strand of pearls she’d worn at her throat. Her pale skin had given her an ethereal quality, and she’d been breathtaking, after Daniela had called him papa. Her eyes had sparkled and softened. He’d gazed at her in shock when she’d been absorbed in watching the urchin at the window and he’d been so taken with her, he’d given her that impulsive kiss on the cheek.

Perhaps I should have stolen a real kiss.
Of course he didn’t have a foot in the parson’s mousetrap. The idea of claiming those lush lips and tasting her wouldn’t send him hurtling down the altar. But nothing would prevent him from striking up a flirtation. She might not be the adventurous type, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t enjoy exploration of a different kind, and he really had wanted to pull the pins from her hair and let the mass tumble down her back.

What a bacon-brain I’ve turned into, thinking about how good kissing a woman would feel.
Three years had been a long time without feeling the softness of a woman beneath him. He shook his head. Why was he even dwelling on such a thing with Eloisa when he should be sleeping? He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. Still, nothing would quiet his thoughts, and the ponderings slid to having her in bed beside him, her hair mussed and her lips swollen from indulging in any number of erotic things.
Gah!
They’d shared one, nearly chaste kiss. It hadn’t ignited such lust in him that she occupied his waking hours. The last time lust had been involved, he’d taken Maria as a mistress. Sure, the Spanish powder keg had invoked such feelings in him back then and their relationship had burned hot and quick and not without heated arguments that ended with her throwing breakable objects at this head, but with Eloisa, it felt different, brighter somehow, as if the world had suddenly made sense in those fleeting seconds and she was the perfection he’d sought for years.

How exceedingly odd.
He hadn’t been on such a quest, not that he knew of.

A discreet scratching on his bedroom door prevented deeper musings. “Enter!” On the off chance it was Daniela at his door, Oliver moved into a sitting position and pulled the bedclothes up to his chin. No sooner had he settled himself than Carruthers entered and stood just inside the room. “A tad early, wouldn’t you say?”

The older man nodded. His expression carried an air of both anxiety and urgency. “I apologize for the hour, but you have a visitor, sir.”

“Can you not send them away and ask them to return later?” A surge of pride swelled his chest. He sounded like Felix just now, with an order of authority in his voice.

“I did indeed ask her that, my lord. She refused.” His aggrieved tone was reflected in his eyes.

“She?” he asked, although he had a sneaking feeling he knew who’d been at the door.

“Miss Hawthorne is here. She’s currently in the parlor, but she seemed upset.” Carruthers frowned. “Shall I tell her you’ll be down soon?”

“I suppose.” What could have possibly dragged the woman from her own bed so early in the morning? His body heated. For all his mental assurances to himself about not wishing to fall in love or be leg-shackled, the thought of tossing Eloisa into his bed and seeing her face flushed with passion had its draw. Surely she wouldn’t call this morning for such an illicit meeting. If so, why would she have the butler announce her presence? Wouldn’t she have found a clandestine way of procuring his attention?

Carruthers cleared his throat. He hadn’t left yet. “Also, Miss Hawthorne referred to you as her betrothed. Did something occur in London you wish to disclose?”

Oh, bother. What a coil.
Oliver raked a hand through his hair. The last thing he wanted was for Carruthers or Susan to have their hopes up from the farce. One little peep of an affirmative—no matter the reason—would send the retainers into throes of planning bliss. “Actually, Carruthers, it’s a bit complicated. I’d rather not say more just now.” Of course, they probably already knew what had occurred due to servant gossip.
Just another reason I didn’t want extra people underfoot.

The butler nodded. “Very well, sir. I’ll let the lady know to expect you. Then I’ll return to help you dress.” He closed the door behind him.

Damn and blast.
He rather hated when Carruthers assumed he couldn’t dress himself or that he hadn’t been doing it for years. He couldn’t spend all his time thinking about his neighbor. He had plans to make. Charts to consult. Paths to forge. Things to see to ahead of his next sea voyage, for he did still plan to leave England at the first opportunity, didn’t he?

As it happened, Oliver did require Carruthers’ assistance, for the cut of the navy coat of superfine was too tailored and tight for him to manage alone. Once he’d completed dressing and let Carruthers fuss with the cravat, he took a deep breath then plunged downstairs. His pulse raced with every step. Why the hell was he so excited to see Eloisa? She meant nothing to him outside a contract partner.

The patter of little feet rang in the corridor behind him was quickly followed by, “Papa!”

He’d barely turned before the girl hurled herself against his legs. She looked like a flower in a dress of dainty pink with a ruffled apron. His heart skipped a beat and warmth spread through his chest. “Hello, poppet.” He picked her up. When she slipped her arms around his neck and nuzzled against his chest and the subtle scent of peaches and sugar engulfed him from her freshly bathed skin, he sighed. “Why are you awake so early?”

“I want to go outside and play. Can we take a walk?” Her ever-present doll dug into the back of his neck, but he didn’t mind. Something about having a child in his arms, and one who depended on him for everything in her life, soothed his troubled soul and gave him new purpose when he hadn’t known he needed one.

“Can we?” He quirked an eyebrow.

She pulled away and looked into his face. “May we take a walk?” She laid a tiny palm against the side of his face. Was there anything as nice in the world as that fairy-like touch? “Please,” she tacked on at the end.

Oliver grinned. He’d been working with her on manners and had only reinforced what Susan had apparently already instilled in her. “That’s better, and yes. I need to talk to Eloisa first. Then Papa will take you walking along the shore. How’s that?”

“Yes.” She nodded. Then her bottom lip puckered and her dark eyes grew sad. “Where’s Mama?”

The joy that had just seconds ago occupied his being froze and broke into a million tiny pieces. Of course the girl would miss her mother. Even if Maria had spent minimal time with the child, some part of Daniela would know she wasn’t around any longer.

He brushed a curl from her forehead then placed a gentle kiss to the smooth skin. “Mama is in Spain, my girl, but she sent you here to me and you’ll never be lonely again.” God, how he hoped that were true, but what would become of her once he sailed? His chest tightened. “Soon, we’ll go for a walk and Papa will twirl you over the waves.” From the back recesses of his memory he recalled his father doing the same to Lauren when she’d been about Daniela’s age.

“You won’t let me fall?”

“I won’t let you fall. I promise.” He set the girl on her feet then delivered a tender swat to her bottom. “Find Susan. Perhaps she’ll have a pastry for you.” Though he should insist on porridge. Wasn’t that the proper thing to feed a child?

“And milk?” Hope rang in the little voice.

“I’d imagine so.” As she pelted off down the hallway once more, he sighed. His shoulders slumped. No matter what happened in his life, Daniela would now be a permanent fixture. He rubbed a hand along his jaw. The last thing he wanted was to remain in England. How utterly dull that would be, especially when he missed everything about the sea. It stirred in his blood and left him aching with longing.

Would it really be so wrong to take Daniela onboard the ship with him when he left, providing he could find some way around the restrictions due to the wars? He’d be well away from Society and its snobbish denizens, so the gossip wouldn’t affect him, but how would the child fare? The knowledge she’d gain while visiting exotic places and ports of call would be more valuable than anything she’d receive from a stodgy nanny or reading story books. Imagine how grand her imagination would grow. But was it in her best interests? Was he qualified to assume sole responsibility for her growth, development, and education?

Finally, unable to waste any more time in the hall, Oliver entered the parlor. Eloisa furiously paced the length of the room. A mix of anxiety and fear lined her expression. “What’s wrong?” he asked as soon as he caught her gaze.

“Oh, Oliver, he’s threatened Helen!” She closed the distance between them then hurled herself into his arms much like Daniela had done earlier, except holding Eloisa made him feel anything but the proud parent.

“I beg your pardon, but you’ll need to fill in the details.” His brain numbed the moment her body came against his. He tightened his arms around her and let the heat of her frame warm his. Her short stature and delicate figure brought out his protective instincts, but when she looked up at him with watery green eyes, he just about lost the remnants of his common sense. “Who has threatened your sister?”