Page 16 of The Broken Marchioness (Lords of Inconvenience #3)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“A llan? Allan!” Frederica called happily through the house. She ran, the skirts of one of her new gown gathered in her hands. She entered the breakfast room where she found Allan was already at the head of the table.

He was midway through pouring her tea, just as she liked it — rather milky with one sugar.

“Well, you must be happy,” Allan said with a laugh. “I haven’t seen you running through this house yet.” He put down the teapot as he looked at her gown. “Is that one of the ones I bought for you?”

“Indeed, it is.” She smiled, fluttering a letter in her hand.

She didn’t tell him as much, but she had been happy the last few days. Ever since they came back from the ball, the last three days had passed by in a sort of bliss.

Lord Wetherington had not come to call, encouraging her to feel as if she had indeed escaped him. Her parents had not come either. Each day started with her and Allan sharing breakfast then they went to their own tasks.

After a shared lunch, they spent the afternoon together. One day, she had walked the estate with Allan, asking him about his plans for the grounds. On another day, he had come to the music room, watching as she practiced the piano though she had no great skill and had spoken longingly about how much she missed playing the harp.

“It is a beautiful dress, and I thank you for it,” she said gushingly as she sat beside him at the table and offered up the letter in her grasp. “I have news. It is from my aunt. Read it,” she pleaded.

He took the letter with a curious expression.

“I am honored,” he said with interest. “Your parents still don’t know where you were hiding this last year, yet you will share your aunt’s words with me?”

“Happily.” She waved a hand at him, encouraging him to read as she started to serve them breakfast. She placed some smoked fish down on Allan’s plate first, for she had seen over the last few days just how much he loved it.

“‘My dearest Frederica,’” he began, opting for such a silly voice that she tapped him around the arm in reprimand. “All right, I’ll be good.” He cleared his throat and used a different voice entirely. “‘My dearest Frederica, I am delighted to hear your news. Not only have you managed to escape the man that you were so afraid of but to find new happiness with a man you call a friend’…”

He halted, staring down at the letter.

“Is everything all right?” Frederica asked, wondering if, after all, she should not have shared the letter with him.

“It’s nothing,” he said though she suddenly saw that he was smiling. “‘It is a fortunate path indeed your life has taken. I would love to come and visit you. The journey from Cornwall is, of course, as you know, not an easy one, but it will be worth it to see you settled and content at last.’”

“What do you think?” Frederica asked excitedly.

“You can have any guests you wish to have in this house,” Allan said with reassurance. “I will indeed be very happy to meet your aunt. Something tells me I may like her more than I do your parents.”

“Allan…” Frederica whispered. He shared a challenging look with her. They had made peace between them the last few days by coming to an unspoken agreement not to talk about her parents for the time being. She wasn’t in a rush to disturb that peace.

“When does she arrive?” Allan was clearly as keen as she was not to upset their peace.

“In three days.”

“Excellent. Then I have some good news for you, too.” He held up a letter which was resting on his newspaper. “I have just had it confirmed that later today, our friends will be coming to see us. Dorothy, Stephen, Charlotte, and Gerard. They’re bringing their children, too.”

“They are?” Frederica asked excitedly, taking the letter from him. “Wonderful, I have been reading of some new games which we can play with the children.”

“Auntie Frederica,” Allan said with interest. “No wonder they already adore you.”

She waved her hand in dismissal at him though a lingering thought was now burgeoning at the back of her mind.

We will never have children, will we?

That thought threatened to defeat all the happiness she had felt during the last few days. As much as she liked being married to her friend, a man she could trust, this was another sadness. The fact he had already as good as told her he could not love her surely meant he never intended for them to have children at all.

I shall just have to be the best of aunts.

“Freddie?” he said softly as he placed her favorite bread on her plate. “Is all well?” He clearly sensed her change of mood.

“Yes, I’m so excited to see them,” Frederica said, putting down the letter. “I have to thank you.”

“Thank me? Whatever for?” he laughed. “You have already thanked me enough times for the dresses and the correspondence box. Do not let it be for them again.”

“For giving me this life,” she said simply.

He nearly choked on his fish. He spluttered for a second, coughing into his handkerchief, before his eyes met hers.

“I beg your pardon?”

She smiled back at him.

“For giving me this life,” she said again and looked around the room. “I’m happy here.” She knew it was true. Yes, maybe there were compromises, maybe she would never have a child of her own, and maybe she would never be fortunate enough to be loved by Allan, but she had her freedom, her safety, and she had her friends.

I am as happy as I could possibly be.

“I pray you continue to be this happy, Freddie. It’s all I want.”

* * *

“You look so natural with her on your lap,” Dorothy whispered to Frederica, leaning toward her.

Frederica smiled, doing her best to keep her expression fixed in place and mask the sudden sadness that had swelled within her. She had been cradling Arabella in her lap for some time. The little one had started by sitting there, squeezing Frederica’s palm and pulling on her gown, but she was now fast asleep, cradled in the crook of Frederica’s elbow.

“She is very sweet,” Frederica whispered to Dorothy. “I am so happy for you.”

“Thank you.” Dorothy looked down at her daughter with a doting smile from where they sat together on a settee in the parlor.

Frederica was distantly aware of the others in the room. Stephen and Allan were doing their best to stop Peter from causing any more trouble, Charlotte sat peacefully sipping tea, and Gerard held onto their son, Benjamin, who was giggling delightedly as he watched Peter causing mischief.

“Someday, you will have a child of your own,” Dorothy said sweetly, reaching down and stroking Arabella’s hair.

Frederica stiffened, finding it even more difficult to keep her smile in place than before.

That will not be my future.

She glanced at Allan, who was guffawing with laughter as Peter shot through Stephen’s legs to make another attempt at breaking free of the room. She could imagine Allan as a good father. Had he not shown himself to be a good uncle all morning?

The moment the children had arrived, he’d taken command of their attention so the parents could have a break, sitting with them on the floor of their parlor and taking part in their games.

Frederica could remember well enough that her father never played such games with her when she was a child. She sat on the floor, playing alone as her father read his newspaper and barely spoke to her. Allan was clearly not that sort of man.

“You look distant,” Dorothy said softly. “Is all well?”

“Perfectly.” Frederica felt her smile grow genuine.

“Good, then my brother is making you happy?” Dorothy asked with her eyes wide, seeming quite intent on having a true answer. “He’s a good husband to you?”

“I can hear you, Dorothy,” Allan suddenly called from across the room as he caught Peter from making another escape. He lifted him in the air to the boy’s cheer as he giggled wildly. “If you’re looking for bad stories about me, haven’t you got enough to tell without Frederica adding to the list?”

Frederica felt her cheeks heat up as she looked at him.

He keeps his nickname for me private.

Not once when they were with their friends had he called her that name. It somehow leant itself to more intimacy when they were alone, a secret that only they shared.

“True.” Dorothy nodded. “Perhaps I should tell Frederica about the time you and Stephen nearly gave our dad a heart attack by sneaking out of the house at night and falling into the nearest pond?”

“No!” Stephen and Allan declared at once, prompting everyone in the room to laugh.

“That story was bad enough to live through, let alone to hear it repeated,” Allan said hurriedly. He moved toward the pair of them across the room, depositing Peter with his father first before he sat down on Frederica’s other side.

He smiled softly as he looked down at the sleeping Arabella. “You do look very natural with her in your arms.”

Frederica looked away from him, unable to allow her thoughts to wander to such possibilities. She shifted Arabella gently when the girl snuffled in her sleep, then she fell still again, her tiny hand gripping Frederica’s sleeve.

“She is a very quiet one,” Frederica whispered.

“Thank God for that,” Stephen called across the room. “I’m not sure I could handle another like Peter.”

“On that note, Stephen, ye should look where yer son has gone now.” Gerard’s voice was full of humor as he managed to catch a table Peter had just knocked over with one hand, and Charlotte jumped up to take Benjamin from his other.

“Peter!” Stephen declared, running after his son again who was now trying to find a new game to play.

“He needs to burn off some energy,” Allan declared. “How about we play a game?”

“What game?” Frederica asked. At the words, Arabella had woken up in her lap. The little girl yawned widely then reached toward her mother with little grabbing hands. Dorothy took her gladly, lifting her high and kissing her on the cheek.

“What about blind man’s buff?” Allan suggested.

“Excellent,” Stephen’s voice was somewhat muffled from where he had dived under another settee to drag his son from his hiding place. “That will burn off some of his excess energy. Even if it is just a little.”

Benjamin looked delighted at the idea and was now pleading with Charlotte to put him down, so he could play.

“We can use this.” Allan stood, moving to the side of the room and returning a second later with a white scarf they could use for a blindfold. “Now, who wishes to be blindfolded first?”

“I do!” Peter declared happily, leaping out of his father’s arms.

“Thank God for that,” Stephen said with a heavy sigh. “Though we should lock the doors. If we play this game with them open, Peter will run through them just to escape whoever is blindfolded.”

Frederica giggled along with the others in the room, unable to believe just how happy and at ease she felt in this room. She watched, smiling gladly as they all set up to play their game.

A few months ago, she had been confined to Cornwall out of fear. Had she known such happiness as this was possible, she may have returned to London much sooner.

“Come, Freddie,” Allan said, leaning over the back of the settee and whispering in her ear so no one heard him. She jumped in surprise, turning to face him. “You’ll play, won’t you?”

“Well, if you insist.” She gladly took his offered hand and allowed him to steer her to the middle of the room.

Furniture was pushed out of the way, and Arabella took part in her mother’s arms, perhaps not fully aware of the game they were playing. Charlotte and Gerard each held onto one of Benjamin’s hands to help him stay standing as the game began.

It seemed blindfolding Peter did little to stifle his energy. After spinning him around, so he was completely dizzy, his father steadied him with a hand on his shoulder, then Peter was off, diving at them all. None of them ran very far, making the game easy so that Peter could win.

When he latched onto Frederica’s leg, practically knocking her over, Allan reached out to catch her — his arms flinging around her waist to keep her standing. There was a cacophony of laughter around her as she looked up into Allan’s face.

They were much closer than she had anticipated. Her face heated to what she was certain was beetroot red.

He winked at her, conspiratorially.

“You didn’t think I would let you fall, did you?” he whispered. She felt such a rush of excitement; she couldn’t immediately answer.

“Auntie Frederica’s turn!” Peter declared.

Frederica was so stunned at being called an aunt that the next minute passed by in a blur. Peter offered up the blindfold, and Allan quickly tied it around her head.

“Don’t be afraid, Frederica,” Charlotte called to her as darkness descended.

“Nay reason to be afraid,” Gerard agreed. “We’ll be kind.”

Despite his words, Frederica felt a little fear as hands descended on her shoulders. She was spun around fast.

“Not so fast,” she pleaded in a giggle. The chief sound reaching her ears was Peter’s mad laughter though it seemed to grow more and more distant.

There was the sound of a door opening though she couldn’t be certain as she was turned back around again.

“Time to play,” Allan whispered in Frederica’s ear.

There was an excited lurch in her stomach at his proximity, a thrill she couldn’t tamp down, no matter how hard she tried. When his hands released her shoulders and he stepped away, her dizziness meaning she had no idea where he had gone, she felt those nerves return.

She reached out in the darkness, hearing a little giggle which clearly meant she had nearly caught Benjamin at one point before he managed to hide. There was Gerard’s heavy breathing too then Arabella’s light giggle then everything fell quiet.

Frederica tilted her head to the side, listening as best as she could.

Are those footsteps? Are they leaving the room? No, surely not…

Yet she was so disorientated, she was struggling now. She reached out with both hands, fingers outstretched, trying to find someone.

Her hands found a solid chest. She flattened her fingers, feeling the edge of a waistcoat and a tailcoat.

She knew who it was on instinct, for he hadn’t moved away from her.

It’s Allan.

Then his hands moved to her waist.

Her breath hitched in her throat. He would not behave like this in front of company, surely? Was it possible they were completely alone in this room?

“Allan?” she whispered. “You lose. Your turn now.” She smiled.

“I lose, do I?” he murmured softly. There was a sort of teasing in his voice she couldn’t quite recognize. Neither one of them moved away as she marked the feeling of his hands on her waist and hers on his chest then she felt him move toward her.

The first brush of his lips was such a surprise that she stayed as still as a statue, her whole body turned to stone, then he pressed in a bit more. The kiss was chaste, but the stolen excitement made that lurch in her stomach grow until it felt like her body was being consumed by hundreds of fluttering butterflies.

Then it was over. He pulled back, and following the excitement, guilt swayed in.

I don’t deserve such happiness.

The thought struck her like a bolt of lightning.

She snapped the blindfold off her face, curling her hands into her chest, so she was no longer touching Allan. He stood before her, the door wide open behind him, showing that there was indeed no one else in the room with them.

He was smiling broadly, but she could not. Frederica felt at once that this wasn’t right. She couldn’t have such happiness, such kisses, such thrills.

I do not deserve them.

“Please, do not do that again.”

He frowned, instantly. That happy smile morphed into such a look of bafflement that the guilt only became worse.

“You seemed to like it,” he whispered. “You kissed me back…”

Yet she was already shaking his head, forcing him to trail off fast.

“Please, don’t do that again.” She backed away from him, moving out of his grasp. “Where are the others?”

“Peter made a break from the room, and Stephen ran after him. Benjamin saw an opportunity and went too. So everyone ran after them.” Allan said all this quickly, but he never took his eyes off her. “Are you honestly asking me never to kiss you again? Did you dislike it that much?”

“I didn’t say I disliked it.” She stumbled away from him, her words making her chest heave up and down. “I just…” She couldn’t form the right words, watching as he raised his eyebrows. “Please, just don’t do it again.” Then she ran from the room under the guise of finding their friends.

As she ran, she trailed her own fingers across her lips, thinking of the thrill of that kiss.

All I want is to do that again.