Page 15

Chapter Fifteen

An introduction to the art…

T he evening had been more enjoyable than he had expected, especially when he considered the ugly confrontation he’d had with Jacob before it began. Despite the crowds and curious stares, the play had been delightful and the company exceptional. Now, in the home of Viscount and Viscountess Seaburn, Caleb finally found a moment of privacy with Marina. They were in the study, the door open, of course. In the connecting room, there was a great deal of noise as Lord and Lady Deveril played a game of hearts with the Viscount and Viscountess Seaburn.

“You have been very quiet this evening,” he said. It had concerned him. He wondered if perhaps she were having second thoughts about their potential match.

She looked away, obviously uncomfortable. “Something happened at the theater and if I tell you… you will think me mad. Or hysterical. Some reactionary creature with an imagination too vivid for my own good.”

He shook his head, a smile curving his lips. Though he’d known her for only twenty-four hours, he was fairly certain hysterical and reactionary were words that would never be used to describe her. “I don’t believe you could say anything which would make me think that. You can tell me. I vow to listen without judgment.”

She lifted her head, her eyes bright. “I was very discomfited. It felt as though I were being watched… not as I was with the gossips and scandal mongers when we were out and about today, though they were there aplenty. This was different. Menacing. I looked about and… it seems so silly and farfetched that I am reluctant to say.”

He hadn’t spoken to her of his suspicions about the incident with the carriage. That she felt the looming danger as well only reaffirmed for him that their situation was dire indeed. “You need not fear that I will be dismissive of your concerns. This is a situation that we are in together. What affects one impacts the other equally. We need to trust one another, Marina. You can tell me anything.”

She was hesitant, but eventually gave a sharp, decisive nod. “Of course. You are quite right. As we arrived at the theater and entered our box, I saw Mr. Nutter. He was watching us… his eyes filled with a level of rage I would never have thought him capable of. I turned away for just a moment to reply to Aunt Lillian’s question about tomorrow’s shopping expedition, and when I turned back, he was gone. And then there was earlier today. With the accident, or very nearly accident.”

“What about the accident?”

She looked down, her lashes casting dark shadows on her cheeks. “I saw my former betrothed. Stanford was standing in a doorway just across the street. He tipped his hat to me and then just walked away. Was he following me? Did he engineer the accident? Or am I just suffering some sort of delusion and I imagined the whole thing? And Mr. Nutter, as well.”

Caleb shook his head, a feeling of cold dread settling in the pit of his stomach. “I do not believe it to be only your imagination. Firstly, I saw the gentleman today. I thought his behavior odd, but then it was a very odd situation. As I had no notion what your former betrothed looked like, I did not make the connection. But he was very familiar… was he present last evening?”

Marina nodded. “He was lurking in the corridor behind Mr. Nutter and Miss Whitmore. The primary reason I wound up in that study rather than escaping via the terrace was that he was already there… on the terrace.”

Caleb nodded. “As for Mr. Nutter, while I did not see him tonight, I did have a very similar experience leaving the Crowdens’. I thought it was Lady Crowden or perhaps even Miss Whitmore with her unreasonable grudge against you. But now I have to wonder if perhaps it wasn’t this Mr. Nutter, or it might well have been Mr. Williams. They both certainly have reason to be displeased. Mr. Nutter’s admiration of you is of long standing… did he—was there an understanding between the two of you?” The idea that she might prefer to be with someone else bothered him far more than it should have.

Her eyes widened with shock, a shudder of distaste quickly following suit. “Oh, heavens no. He’s been trying, regardless of any dissuading on my part, to court me for the last three years, even while I was betrothed to Stanford. Since I had my debut, he has attended all the events I have. I’ve never encouraged him and have avoided situations where I might be forced to say something harsh to him about any prospective match between us. Not because I wished to give him hope but because—since the incident when I was to have married Stanford, well, it’s given me the reputation of being a jilt. And having refused two other thoroughly inappropriate offers of marriage, I have also been viewed as vain and overly proud. If I refused yet another… well, it would not be good.”

“He’s never proposed?” Caleb queried, wanting to be certain the man would have no grounds to interfere.

“Oh, no!” Marina replied. “I have done my utmost to avoid him at all costs. I have made quite certain to provide no opportunity for such an event to transpire. Aunt Willa has helped me to avoid him as much as possible, as has my dear friend, Charlotte. Whenever they saw him make any attempt to maneuver me into a situation where he might pose such a question, they intervened. Normally, I could manage to avoid it myself, but that wasn’t always an option. I didn’t wish to be rude to him, you see? Despite recent events, I always thought him a nice man. Very dull, to be honest, but still nice. Perhaps my hesitance to refuse him outright has complicated the situation. Perhaps he feels as if I’ve somehow led him on, though that was never my intent.”

Caleb frowned, a deep groove forming between his devilishly peaked eyebrows. “You say that as though you no longer view him in that light. Not the dull bit of it, but the other part. While he has given no real evidence to the contrary… yet, you no longer think him to be a ‘nice man’?”

Marina shook her head with some confusion. “I wish I knew. I certainly never thought him dangerous. He looked completely furious—no, he looked at me as though he hated me,” she said. “Perhaps I was entirely mistaken in the nature of his character. It would not be the first time.”

“What does that mean precisely? That you’ve been wrong before about someone’s character or being a danger to you?”

It was like the closing of a door. Instantly and decisively. Her gaze grew shuttered, her shoulders stiffened. That question had struck a nerve.

“I misspoke,” she said with a slight smile, though it did not reach her eyes. “When I referenced other mistakes, I only meant in a very general manner. What if I was wrong to simply avoid the confrontation so? What if I had told him in that first Season there was no chance at all? He might have moved on and married someone else already.”

That wasn’t what she’d meant at all. It bothered him that she didn’t feel she could be honest with him, but at the same time, the subject was one that was very concerning and would require a significant amount of trust. He’d have the truth from her eventually. “If I’d been attempting to court a woman for three years and she steadfastly avoided me, I should think, at some point or other, I would have caught on to the fact,” he mused. “Any sane man would, I should think. Regardless, what you did or did not do in the past cannot be changed.”

“That is true enough. I’ve certainly managed to put gentlemen off before with less effort,” she admitted ruefully.

Caleb was quiet for a moment, considering the facts, few as they were. “I do not think it would have made a great deal of difference one way or another. What you’re describing is not a man who is in love and has had his hopes dashed. You’re describing a man who is obsessed… And obsession is never reasonable.”

That statement rang ominously in the room. He hadn’t meant to frighten her with such a foreboding assessment. He saw the shiver of fear that rippled through her and then watched as she crossed her arms protectively in front of her. He wanted to comfort her. He longed to take her in his arms and reassure her that he would look after her—he would make it all better. And those urges were something of a puzzle to him. Yes, he was attracted to her. To an extent he had never really experienced before, and certainly that attraction had intensified far more rapidly than he could have anticipated. But the possessive and protective instincts he felt for her went far beyond simple attraction or even infatuation. She stirred something inside him—something quite primitive and rather alarming in its intensity.

“What should we do, Caleb?” She posed the question softly. “Honestly, it feels as though there is danger at every turn now. Between the incident this afternoon and then seeing Mr. Nutter at the theater, it’s rather like being hunted.”

“We proceed as planned,” he said. The sooner they married—and he intended to do everything in his power to ensure that she wished to do so—the sooner he would be able to see to her protection both night and day.

Caleb reached into his pocket and produced a small wooden box. “To that end, if we are intended to appear as a couple betrothed, then there should be a betrothal ring. It’s only fitting.”

“It feels quite strange to accept such valuable tokens when in truth we are little more than strangers to one another,” she offered with a frown.

“It’s a rock,” he offered with a shrug. “A pretty one that has been cut and polished, but still… only a stone, not so different from the pebbles that find their way into one’s shoes. It has value because man has decided it does. That is all.”

A soft laugh bubbled from her. “What a shockingly pragmatic interpretation!”

His lips quirked slightly. “Blame it on my very middle-class upbringing.”

She nodded. “I don’t mind that, you know? I rather like it, in fact. You’re not like anyone else I’ve ever known, Caleb. It’s a welcome and very refreshing change.”

Caleb did the thing he’d been wanting to do since he’d first seen her. He stepped closer, his hand moving to her face, cupping her cheek, savoring the silken texture of her skin. Her eyes were wide, her cheeks flushed with anticipation, and her soft, full lips parted ever so slightly on a sigh. Leaning in, he brushed his lips over hers. It was the faintest whisper of a kiss, but it set his heart pounding and had the blood racing in his veins.

When he pulled back, she was wide-eyed and quite stunned. In a hushed whisper, she murmured, “I’ve never been kissed before.”

He smiled somewhat ruefully. “In truth, you haven’t been kissed yet. Not truly. That was… a brief introduction. There is so much more to it than that and I look forward to sharing it all with you,” he admitted.

“Is this real?” she asked. “Or is it simply that we are trying to lend credence to the tale being spun to save my reputation?”

“It’s more than a tale, Marina. It’s an intention. I haven’t entered into this as merely a ruse. I’ve simply offered to allow you to bow out without reprisal when the time comes should you desire to do so. But make no mistake, I came to London for the purpose of finding a bride. And from the very second I saw you, there was no other woman I wished to pursue for that role.”

Her lips parted on a gasp. “Surely, you can’t be serious!”

“I’m not a very complicated man. I trust my instincts—most of the time, at any rate. And I instinctively knew that you were something… well, more. Perhaps our betrothal didn’t occur in the manner I might have wished, but I could not be more pleased with the outcome, regardless of the methods,” he insisted. Hoping that it would help her to feel more certain of his feelings toward her, he confessed, “When our gazes met in the ballroom, you saw me staring at you… quite impertinently.”

“I did,” she confirmed.

He continued, “I had noticed you with your friend, Charlotte. You had just finished dancing and your cheeks were flushed from the warmth of the room… I thought you the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. I wanted to beg an introduction but the only person I knew at the party was Lady Crowden and asking her to introduce us seemed unwise, at best. Clearly a well-founded suspicion, now.”

“It is suspicious, isn’t it? All of it. There are things I must tell you… I haven’t shared them with anyone else,” she whispered.

“What is it?”

“Only two days before I was to marry Stanford, I received an anonymous note telling me that he was involved with someone else. We were attending a ball that night and when he slipped away, I followed. I overheard him professing his love to another—and that he was only marrying me for the money. The person to whom he confessed this was none other than Lady Crowden. How very strange it is that the last four people I’d ever want anything to do with were the very four people present last night!”

“Not strange. Suspect,” he corrected. “Very suspect. Though I cannot imagine what their motives might have been.”

“Neither can I,” she concurred. “Though I daresay that Lady Crowden’s upset that your disinterest in her appeared to be quite genuine.”

“True enough. When I accepted her summons, I was not yet aware of the true depths of her delusional nature. In hindsight, I cannot imagine what she might have done had I asked for an introduction to you or indicated an interest or preference for you. As for our chance encounter in the ballroom… it was anything but. I intentionally put myself in your path just as your friend intentionally tossed your dance card to the floor. An act for which she will have my eternal gratitude.”

Marina appeared positively stunned by his admission, but still managed to ask, “All that after only a passing glance and one simple conversation?”

“Yes. I had fully intended to find your uncle and beg, if necessary, for an introduction. Even had he refused, I would not have given up. Somehow, someway I would have found the means to get to you and to make my intentions known,” he answered earnestly. “Though perhaps knowing that does not make me seem any better than Mr. Nutter.”

“No. That isn’t the case at all. The primary difference was that, despite my intent never to marry, I couldn’t deny that I found you incredibly handsome… and intriguing. So much so that I wavered in my swearing off of all romantic inclinations.”

“Then that should make accepting this token a bit easier on your conscience, shouldn’t it?”

He extended the small box once more and Marina accepted it with hands that trembled. Freeing the latch, she pushed the lid back with her thumb to reveal a large, cushion-cut sapphire surrounded by rows of diamonds that formed a rectangle. “It is a terribly dear piece of jewelry. Even at the most exclusive balls, I’ve never seen such an item in all honesty. Well, perhaps at my debut… This is far too much, Caleb. It’s so very grand.”

“Do you like it?” he asked. “If not, there is a rather cumbersome and terribly ugly iron box locked away in the house. It’s filled with such items. You may choose one to your liking or we can go to Garrard’s and you may have one made to your specifications.”

“No. This one is lovely. Truly. Why did you choose it? This one in particular, that is,” she asked.

Because that brilliant sapphire had reminded him of her bright-blue eyes.

“I saw it and simply thought of you,” he said, rationalizing that it was not precisely a lie. It was simply not the truth in its entirety. Given that they had concerns about Mr. Nutter’s level of fascination or infatuation with her, and that his own degree of interest in her was already well beyond rational, he hardly wanted to say or do anything that might indicate he was cut from similar cloth.

Reaching toward the box now clutched in her hand, he lifted the ring out and then, as gently as possible, slipped it on her finger. It fit as though it had been made for her. That stroke of luck seemed a blessing from the fates to his mind.

“It’s remarkable,” she said, her voice sounding somewhat awestruck.

“It’s for you… it should be.”