Page 36 of Love Thy Enemy (The Vaughns #4)

“T his is startling, but we will manage it,” said Mr. Vaughn in an even tone. “And I will speak to my family about the situation, and they shall help keep watch. Between us all, we will ensure Daphne won’t be cornered by him again.”

“It isn’t just Mr. Spooner,” said Tessa, shaking her head. “Daphne is making choices that might do serious harm, and she doesn’t seem to understand—”

“Breathe,” he repeated, and it was only then that she realized how lightheaded she was.

Tessa peered into his eyes with a frown. “How are you so calm?”

Tilting his head as though to consider that, Mr. Vaughn frowned. “I don’t know. Seeing you so distraught allowed me to keep my wits about me, just as you were able to remain calm at the festival when all I wished to do was bludgeon the fellow. I suppose we are a good pair.”

Pressing a hand to her hot cheeks, Tessa shook her head. “I reacted poorly. After all my lecturing you about not forcing her into his arms, I’ve done just that.”

Mr. Vaughn’s brows rose. “We cannot know that. Not yet. But I know that had I been the one to discover them, Mr. Spooner would’ve needed to be carried home on a stretcher.”

Tears brimmed in Tessa’s eyes. “Daphne is so angry. I do not know if she will ever forgive me.”

“She is a brokenhearted young lady who has been struggling with her father’s passing.

That alone would cause anyone trouble. But you are a good woman and a loving mother,” he said in a low voice.

Those hands continued to massage her arms, each touch helping her heart to settle a little more.

“Daphne will come to see that. She may not thank you for your interference now, but I am certain she will one day.”

Mr. Vaughn stood so close to her, his presence seeming to envelop her. It was like a crisp breeze on a hot summer’s day, sweeping through her and settling the unease in her heart.

Tessa’s breath caught. She felt the heat of him—so near, so steady—and his voice seemed to rumble through her bones, stirring something inside her.

A hum beneath her skin that sent ripples of awareness through her.

The world narrowed as she held his gaze, erasing all her worries and fears and healing the ache in her chest. There was only Mr. Vaughn and her standing there together, looking into each other’s eyes.

“Should—” Tessa’s voice wobbled, and she cleared her throat. “Should we speak with her?”

Mr. Vaughn considered that for a moment, and she awaited his opinion. Tessa wasn’t certain she could trust her own thoughts at present.

“We ought to allow tempers to cool,” he said, his voice quiet and soothing. “But we will find a way to help her.”

And when he said that, Tessa couldn’t help but believe him. Mr. Vaughn may find his guardianship daunting, but the certainty with which he said “we” settled into her bones. Together, they would find a way to help her lost child.

Nodding to him, Tessa took another deep breath. “I think I ought to return to the inn. I fear Daphne will grow agitated again if I rejoin the party.”

Turning toward the road, Mr. Vaughn offered his arm. “Then may I escort you home, madam?”

“I do not want to be a bother.”

But the gentleman held her gaze and said in a voice so low that it was nearly a whisper, “It is no bother.”

Tessa hesitated for the briefest of moments before placing her hand on his arm, her fingers curling against the fabric of his coat. It was foolish to feel this flutter in her chest. Nonsense, really. They were only friends. Nothing more.

But the memory of their dance returned to her with startling clarity: the warmth of his hand at her waist, the way their steps had fallen into rhythm so easily, how her heart had leapt when his gaze had held hers just a little too long.

That was only a dance. A moment. And yet, walking beside him now, her thoughts tangled in knots, leaving her unsettled and far too aware of the quiet man at her side.

Together, they wove through the streets of Thornsby.

With the shops closed for the Sabbath, there were few people about today.

There were couples in gigs, enjoying an afternoon out and about, and the odd farmer’s cart rumbling along the road, going about its business, as cattle and grains did not understand the importance of this day of rest, but Thornsby was mostly quiet.

Compared to her home in Leeds, this village was little more than a hamlet.

A speck in the English countryside. Yet there was a beauty and grandeur to the place that a city could not recreate.

Though coal smoke pumped from the chimneys, it wasn’t enough to cast its black pall upon the brown and grey stonework.

The shutters were brightly painted, accented by the flowers that crept and climbed along the buildings and walls.

It was a perfect sort of place. And though neither she nor Mr. Vaughn spoke a word, it was a perfect sort of silence. Not filled with discomfort or the fretful need to fill it. Just two people enjoying the world together.

They arrived at the inn too soon, and Tessa found herself reluctant to release her hold on him.

“My thanks, Mr. Vaughn,” she said, patting his arm before stepping away.

But the gentleman reached forward, taking her hand in his as his eyes seized hold of her as readily as his fingers. “I wish to court you, Mrs. Stuart.”

Tessa’s mouth opened, and though she tried to keep from looking a fool, she couldn’t help gaping. “Pardon?”

“We may have been at odds after arriving in Thornsby, but I do not think I am speaking out of turn when I say that before that moment, we looked upon one another favorably. And since settling our differences, that feeling has grown.”

The gentleman spoke with the sort of directness that would’ve startled another lady, but Tessa took in the words, appreciating the honesty of his declaration.

Having spent the last several years of her life wading through the business world, she found she preferred it to the delicate prevarications of society.

Yet they were not speaking of a financial transaction.

This connection she shared with Mr. Vaughn was nothing like her first marriage—even in the early days, when she and Rodney had been happy.

Their lives had blended with an ease that only those with matching personalities could manage.

Never arguing. Not once. Not when all was good and right in the world.

Only once the road had grown rocky had the arguments begun. And they were far larger and more important than disagreeing on what books to read or which horse was the better mount.

But she and Mr. Vaughn? They often sat on opposing sides of a discussion.

He challenged her. Pressed back. Even infuriated her at times.

Their views and opinions were often vastly different, yet their values and goals were the same, and as a whole, it was far more appealing than even the best of days with Rodney.

Yet in one way, both men were the same: the law gave them power over her children.

A tremor began in her fingertips and spread upward, tightening her arms and shoulders until she held herself stiff as stone, and a cold sweat broke across her back despite the warm evening air.

Her breaths came too fast, shallow and useless, catching in her throat with each sharp inhale as her pulse pounded in her ears like a drumbeat driving her toward some unseen danger.

Every part of her body screamed retreat, but her feet remained frozen in place.

“Peace, Mrs. Stuart,” said Mr. Vaughn, his brows rising as he watched her. “Please tell me what you are thinking. You know I value your honesty.”

Though her throat felt like it was coated in sand, Tessa faced him and spoke. “The children. They are angry with me as it is, and their reaction at the festival—”

“They will come around,” said Mr. Vaughn, studying her. “But that is not what has you looking as though you might faint dead away.”

Fear held her fast, but Tessa considered it and the man before her. “Do you not see the impossibility of my situation? If I reject your suit or if things sour between us, what will happen then? You could cut me off from my children, and there is nothing I can do about it.”

Mr. Vaughn’s brows rose at that. “I hadn’t thought of it from that perspective, and I apologize for making you anxious. Whatever your decision, you are their mother, and I will not stand between you and them. I am not Rodney. Surely, you know that.”

No, he was not. Tessa felt it in her bones that this man couldn’t be more different from her late husband.

Enough so that she couldn’t imagine how the pair had been friends.

Then again, Tessa was coming to think of Mr. Vaughn as one of her dearest, and as she and Rodney were so similar, she supposed it made sense.

The quiet, calm tenor of his voice wove through her as his hands held hers gently. It was such a strange juxtaposition—this seemingly hard and unyielding man who was so tender and kind beneath.

“Setting the children aside, what do you want?” asked Mr. Vaughn.

“I cannot set them aside—”

“Just pretend for a moment, Mrs. Stuart,” he said with a faint smile that held just a touch of a rueful edge. “If it were just me standing before you, offering you my heart. What would you say?”

Tears blurred her vision as her heart fluttered in her chest, picking up its pace until she could hardly breathe.

Another pulse of panic reverberated through her, echoing from deep within her bones.

A part of her that she had ignored for so very long surged to the forefront, making her hands tremble anew, and she fought to keep her voice steady as she tried to put the feeling into words.

“I would say that my history with love is abysmal, Mr. Vaughn. I may trust you in many aspects, but I do not know if I can trust myself,” she whispered. “The thought of marrying is terrifying to say the least, especially as I doubt my ability to choose my husband wisely.”

Mr. Vaughn gave a vague hum of consideration. His expression did not alter one jot, but Tessa could see his thoughts sifting through his head.

“Then you are afraid that it will not only affect the children adversely, but you do not know if you ever wish to accept any man’s suit, let alone mine?” he said in that succinct manner of his. “But you are not set against it, either.”

Just hearing that set her pulse racing again, yet Tessa couldn’t deny the truth of those words. Some small part of her heart still hoped. Despite everything, that starry-eyed young lady she’d buried long ago still recalled the good moments in her marriage and yearned for more.

But that sort of thinking was the very thing that had driven her into Rodney’s arms in the first place.

“I can accept that,” he said with a sharp nod as a glint of determination shone in his eyes. “If you want a friend and companion, I can be that, Mrs. Stuart. Anything you wish, as long as it means you are near.”

Tessa straightened, and everything stilled inside her as his thumb brushed against the back of her hand, sending gooseflesh up her arms. Mr. Vaughn stepped closer, his gaze holding her captive as he lowered his voice until it sounded like warm honey.

“But the moment you wish for something more, you need only say the word.” Mr. Vaughn’s gaze bored into hers as he lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

Tessa couldn’t breathe. Or blink. Or move. Her hand remained in his, the ghost of his kiss lingering against her skin. His words felt like a vow, and it wrapped around them, locking them together as the world hushed and time paused between heartbeats.

For a heady moment, neither of them moved, and then, with a nod that felt far too formal for what had just passed between them, Tessa slipped her hand from his and turned toward the inn door.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Vaughn,” she said, her voice steadier than she felt.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Stuart.”

With that, Tessa hurried through the public room and up into her bedchamber, not pausing until the door latched behind her. Sinking onto the bed, she willed her pulse to slow, but it refused, thumping against her ribs with a determined beat as though she were standing on a precipice.

And she couldn’t help wondering if she had already stepped over the edge.