Page 32 of Love Thy Enemy (The Vaughns #4)

A sking a gentleman to dance wasn’t an easy thing. Though Tessa doubted he would refuse her, she also found it difficult to imagine Mr. Vaughn dancing—yet when the musicians struck the first notes of the tune, she found herself standing before him.

“Would you do me the honor?” she asked, nodding toward the congregating dancers.

“A Queen Bess dance, is it?” he replied with the slightest twist of a smile.

“Yes, and your sister-in-law and niece are emphatic that I must stand up,” said Tessa, nodding toward the others. With a wince, she added in a whisper, “Please save me.”

“I would be honored, madam,” he said, raising his voice so the others would hear.

With a sigh, Tessa placed her hand in his as he led her onto the dance floor.

The strains of a slow polka were struck, and Mr. Vaughn settled his hand at the small of her back whilst clasping her other.

She stood there a moment, his arm wrapped about her, and with a silent count of four, he swept her into the fray.

A flush of heat stole through her as they settled close together.

It was nothing improper, though she couldn’t keep her gaze from turning to his, staring at him in a manner that was not entirely decorous.

One shouldn’t meet their partner’s gaze whilst so intimately tucked together, yet Tessa couldn’t help herself.

But when his eyes narrowed on something over her shoulder, she glanced to see Daphne in the arms of a young man, which was a tad surprising as she ought not to be dancing publicly until she was properly out. Though it was harmless enough and not wholly outside the bounds of propriety.

Tessa was about to reassure Daphne’s anxious guardian when she spied the fellow’s hand drifting low on his partner’s back.

And when he leaned closer to whisper into her ear (which elicited a giggle!), the bounder didn’t return to his previous position, remaining far too close to the young lady.

Tessa’s expression shifted, mimicking that which she’d seen on Mr. Vaughn’s face, and she studied the man who was far too old to qualify as a “young” one.

“Who is that?” she asked.

“I do not know, but I will soon,” said Mr. Vaughn in a low tone that helped to chase away the frisson of unease. His gaze remained locked on the pair, taking in every detail with all the firmness that Sir Stoneface could muster. Yet there was something buried beneath that hard exterior.

Standing so close whilst his attention was elsewhere, Tessa was free to study him, and it took only a moment for clarity to strike.

“You are a good guardian, Mr. Gregory Vaughn,” she said, drawing his attention back to her. For all that he appeared as firm as ever, Tessa spied the fear shuddering beneath the surface.

“How am I to protect her when she is beginning to venture out on her own?” he whispered. “I cannot follow her about, ensuring that she only mixes with the best company every hour of the day.”

“You cannot,” said Tessa with a sad smile. “Pain and difficulties will meet her no matter what you do. But with your stalwart support and comfort, Daphne will weather it.”

“How can you say that, given your history?” Despite the sharpness of the question, Mr. Vaughn’s tone wasn’t accusatory but contemplative.

“I say that because of my history. You are a good man, and you care dearly for those children,” she whispered as a hint of tears blurred her vision.

Tessa blinked them away, refusing to allow them to fall.

“It is one of the things I admire most about you. Despite that stern exterior, I know you will do your best to aid and protect them.”

Mr. Vaughn turned his gaze toward Daphne again, his brows pulling tight together, and Tessa lifted one of her hands to nudge his chin toward her again.

“It is only a flirtation at present, but press the issue too hard, and it will force her into his arms. Nothing makes a man more appealing than having one’s parents forbid the match.”

Mr. Vaughn’s lips curled into a smile, the strain in his eyes fading as he held her gaze. “My thanks, Mrs. Stuart.”

“For meddling in your affairs and foisting my opinions on you?” she asked with a hint of a laugh.

“For being unafraid to speak your mind. Your opinions are insightful and often help me to see things in a new light,” he said in a tone that was far too serious for her good. “You are a bold and intelligent woman, and I am grateful when you ‘foist’ your opinions on me.”

Those dark eyes held hers with a gentleness that one didn’t expect from such a hard-looking man. The music drew them along the floor, their feet moving in time together, and Mr. Vaughn’s gaze studied her as though memorizing every line of her face, his eyes caressing her cheek.

Tessa wanted to ignore it. Dismiss it as a trick of the light.

But standing out of doors in broad daylight, it was difficult to dismiss what was standing right before her.

It didn’t seem possible, yet she felt the warmth of his attention seeping into her.

It was like drinking a hot cup of tea on a cold winter’s night, heating her from the inside out.

Clearing her throat, she forced herself to break his gaze and seized onto the first subject she could think of. “I am afraid I must return to Leeds in a few days.”

*

“Again?” Gregory managed to keep the whine from his tone, but the thought of her leaving had his shoulders slumping.

For the past few weeks, Mrs. Stuart had woven herself into his days—as much a part of his life as the children and his work—and her absence left him feeling out of sorts.

Like missing his breakfast and morning perusal of the newspaper.

Or putting on a frock coat that was a touch too tight.

He was a grown adult with responsibilities, which meant such upsets did not keep him from completing his work, but it left him off-kilter.

Incomplete.

Mrs. Stuart gave him a wan smile. “I fear I may have been a bit too optimistic about my ability to manage my business from afar.”

Heart sinking, Gregory listened as she detailed the troubles that were arising from living in this limbo. Clearly, she could not remain in Thornsby indefinitely, and a choice needed to be made.

Perhaps relocating to Leeds was the proper thing to do; with things mending in the Stuart family, it was only right that they ought to be nearby.

Now that he knew her character, Gregory couldn’t deny Mrs. Stuart access to her little ones, nor could she surrender her income, which was dependent on Leeds.

But Thornsby was the children’s home.

Regardless, it didn’t absolve him of his own responsibility to his parents and siblings. Gregory was the eldest son. The next head of the family. It was his duty to watch over the Vaughns. They needed him.

Just as the Stuarts needed their mother.

Gregory felt caught in a current, putting all his might into moving forward, yet the stream continued to pull him back. Going nowhere, and only succeeding in exhausting himself.

Forcing that thought from his mind, Gregory turned his attention to his partner. Mrs. Stuart spoke about the goings-on in her business and the children; it was as if everything she said was filled with her whole heart.

Gregory had never met such a passionate person before, who cared so much about everything within her sphere.

Mrs. Stuart met his gaze without flinching, able to meet his every question and comment with her own insight.

Her eyes gleamed, sharing their light with him and filling him with a brightness that he never knew existed in the world, and his hand itched to brush her cheek.

Was it as soft as it appeared?

Applause erupted around them, jerking Gregory’s attention away from Mrs. Stuart—only to discover that somehow their steps had slowed, leaving them standing in the center of the dancers, with her clutched so close that it bore no semblance to any recognized dance position.

Gregory was simply embracing her in the midst of the dancers, his arms holding her flush to him.

Mrs. Stuart stiffened, her eyes widening at the precise moment that he realized the impropriety of their situation. Giving a tiny squeak of surprise, she jerked backward at the same time he did, his face heating as he glanced about to see if anyone had noticed.

Only to see the whole Stuart clan watching them with wide eyes.

*

Pressing her hands to her cheeks, Tessa tried to calm the burning flush that had taken hold of her, but there was nothing to be done about it. Especially with Clark’s eyes burning holes into her. She crossed the dance floor in a flash, but he spun on his heel, striding in the opposite direction.

“Clark, please,” she said, though she didn’t know what more to say. Tessa didn’t know how they’d ended in such a shocking embrace, but that mattered not a jot, as her son refused to listen to her apologies.

Turning to face her, Clark’s whole being sneered at her, the strength of the emotion vibrating through him. “It wasn’t enough to ruin our father? Now, you are going to ruin our guardian as well?”

Clark lobbed the words at her, and his aim struck true; each sank deep into the fragile places of her heart.

Spinning about, he gave her his back and marched away, but Tessa stood frozen in place, her limbs as heavy as stone.

Her chest tightened as her mouth opened uselessly, as if to call him back, to plead, to explain.

But no sound came.

Mr. Vaughn drew up beside her, his hand resting at her back for a brief moment before he jerked it away. “Allow me to speak to him.”

And with that, the gentleman gathered the children and followed after the lad.