Page 4 of The Spring Promise (The Starlings of Starling Hall #1)

CHAPTER FOUR

T he day turned out to be dreary outdoors, but inside the conservatory it was almost cosy, though far too steamy for Will. The lush vegetation that surrounded them seemed as threatening as ever, and he eyed a particularly large plant with serrated leaves that he imagined was preparing to attack him. Meanwhile, the other guests cooed as they admired the array of botanical treasures that Sir Reginald had collected over many years.

Will tried to look interested. He even asked a question, and thought he was hiding his boredom and discomfort quite well. It would be different if he was in the kitchen garden at Starling Hall, where he could have named every vegetable and how it was best served. He also knew the names of all the roses in the walled garden and which ones had the sweetest perfume.

But this … He found no pleasure in it at all. As much as he longed to become the person he needed to be for Celeste’s sake, he struggled. It was as if he was trying to force himself into a shape he did not fit, and it frustrated him that no matter how he tried he could not seem to do it.

Molly was silently laughing at him. Will could see it in the malicious sparkle in her green eyes, so at odds with her polite expression. Just as well Abby wasn’t here yet or they would both be teasing him. His sister was helping their mother with some last-minute household matter or other and had told Will to make her apologies to the Mortons.

“I will be late,” she had said, “but I’m sure I won’t be missed. Not by you , anyway.”

“What do you mean?” Will had asked her with a frown.

“Well, you will have Miss Morton to gaze upon. I only hope Molly doesn’t go home before I get there.”

Will had felt like asking the same question again. Did she think Molly would be bored? Or that Celeste would send her home? But Abby had shaken her head at him and waved him off.

He glanced at Molly now, to see if she was bored. But her eyes were wide as she looked about at the abundance of greenery.

“I feel as if I might get lost,” she said.

“What a dreadful thought.” He had probably spoken louder than he should. Hunter had certainly heard him, judging by his smirk.

“Mr Hunter is very handsome,” Molly said.

“To some, I suppose,” Will snapped.

“I can see why some ladies find him irresistible.”

“Do you now?”

“But you are just as handsome, Will. And you have a great deal more to offer.”

Will wasn’t sure what to say to that, though he felt himself puff up a little. If Molly thought that about him, then surely Celeste would see it too.

“Everyone! You must look at this!”

Will and Molly started at Sir Reginald Morton’s loud exclamation. The gentleman was hurrying to the next row of plants. Will arrived with the others in time to see the cause of this excitement.

Another insanely ugly plant, and it loomed over them all from its great height. It also had a hideous flower blooming, and as he drew closer, Will became aware of the aroma of rotting flesh. He put his hand to his nose to try to keep the foul odour at bay.

“Amazing.” Hunter sounded serious, but even he stayed well back from the pungent odour. Molly was at his side, and Will could tell she was struggling not to giggle.

“ Rafflesia arnoldii ,” Sir Reginald declared, eyes bright. “It can take up to a decade to bloom!”

“Good-good heavens,” Molly said faintly. She wrinkled her nose. “Why does it smell like that?”

“It attracts flies to pollinate it. Isn’t it wonderful!”

Celeste looked at Will and grimaced. What a relief that they were finally in accord.

“Let’s slip away to somewhere less smelly,” she whispered to him, leaning closer. In contrast to the flower, her breath was warm and fragrant against his cheek, and gratefully, he followed her out of the conservatory.

“Tell me, how long have you known Miss Lacey?” Celeste asked, with a sideways glance at him.

“All my life. We are neighbours,” he said blithely. “Molly’s family has been in Barton Lacey forever.”

“I see.”

She looked away with a little smile that wasn’t quite genuine. Was she jealous? Will’s heart pounded beneath his second best jacket. Was his plan working already? He was about to reassure Celeste that there was nothing between Molly and himself, but then thought better of it.

Why not allow Celeste to believe Molly loved him and would fight for him? That he was in demand by more than one attractive woman? Molly was attractive, after all. Some might even say she was beautiful, with her sparkling green eyes and fair hair, and she was always so kind and thoughtful. In fact, he had never known her to be out of sorts until the other day when he called on her to ask for her help.

Celeste interrupted his thoughts, which had been meandering down a very odd pathway. “Shall we take a stroll up to the roof? I love the view. Even when the weather is inclement, there is still so much of the countryside to see. Uncle Reggie says the house was built in Tudor times and when the king visited, he declared it the best vista he had ever seen.”

Will nodded. “Starling Hall was built last century,” he said conversationally. “Rather modern, I suppose, compared to this place, but it is quite comfortable. Even on the coldest day, it feels warm inside. One need not go outside at all because my grandfather had the water closets installed eighty years ago, and my father has modernised them since then.”

Celeste gave him one of her sideways looks, and said lightly, “How very interesting, Will.”

“It is, isn’t it?” He felt the surge of enthusiasm he always felt when speaking about his home. “I can show you, if you’d like to visit. In fact…” He then rambled on, talking about his family and the Hall, and the many benefits to living there, all while Celeste made encouraging noises.

Suddenly she interrupted and pointed at some narrow stairs leading upwards. “There! That’s the way to the roof.” She turned to him, and her face was alight. “Shall we?”

Will froze as he realised that they were going onto the roof. He wasn’t good with heights. As with strange plants, heights tended to make him uneasy. And sweat. He felt like he was going to fall, or worse, throw himself off because he knew he’d fall anyway. His fear of heights had a name, but he had forgotten what it was. Not that it mattered, as he was hardly going to tell Celeste, was he?

She watched him now with a puzzled expression. In a moment, she would begin to ask him questions, and soon she would understand he had a problem. Will couldn’t allow that. He wanted her to admire him, not pity him.

So instead of doing what he wanted to do, which was to refuse outright to follow her up those stairs, Will forced a smile onto his rigid face.

“Lead the way!” he said in a jovial voice that didn’t sound at all like his.

She smiled back, a question in her eyes, but soon dismissed the oddness, and set off up the stairs. Will followed her, trying to convince himself that it would be all right. He would be all right.

The view was stupendous, he had to agree with Celeste on that. She oohed and aahed as she made her way to the metal railing and leaned against it to gaze over the surrounding countryside. Will stood well back, but he could still see for miles and miles. If he stood where Celeste was standing and looked down—which he did not want to do—he was certain that the ground would be a very long way down.

He didn’t want to be here. Will preferred to have his feet firmly on solid ground, and right now, this didn’t seem very solid at all.

“Come on, Will!” Celeste sounded impatient. “You can’t see properly from there. Come here to me.”

Will approached as one who was going to the gallows. He reached out and clasped onto the railing, which felt rickety, and was the only thing between him and a fatal fall. His knuckles turned white and his palms felt damp.

Celeste pointed down. “Look! There is your sister! Yoohoo, Miss Starling! Up here!” She waved, making the whole railing shake. Will’s head swirled, and he might have made a sound like a groan. Thankfully, Celeste did not hear it.

Abby looked up, and even from here he could see her eyes widen. She knew he hated heights and was probably wondering what on earth he was doing. A moment later, she disappeared inside.

Sweat trickled down the back of his neck and dampened his cravat. He had spent a long time tying that cravat this morning, trying to get it just right. Hunter’s cravats were always so pristine, but Will suspected he had a valet who pressed them for him. Probably tied them too.

Meanwhile, whenever Will dressed, he had had to contend with his numerous younger siblings who would peer through the doorway and tease him. There were too many Starlings, that was the trouble, and never enough room. How on earth was he to fit a wife in, even if Celeste did him the great honour of marrying him?

He could imagine the look on her face if she ever paid a visit to the Hall. She was used to Sir Reginald’s spacious manor, and had often spoken about her parents’ home, which sounded equally grand. Not that Starling Hall wasn’t just as nice, but there were so many of them inside it.

Will desperately clung to the railing and wondered what he had been thinking. Why would this wonderful woman want to marry him? He couldn’t even admire the view with her without almost fainting.

“Will?” Celeste’s head was tilted to one side, her eyes curious. Then she gave a little amused laugh. “Oh my. You do not enjoy heights!” she said in surprise. “You poor thing.”

Before he could deny it, her arms were around him, and her face was so close to his, he could smell the soap and see the fine powder she used on her skin. And then she was kissing him. For a moment, he was too astounded to respond, but only for a moment. Then he caught her up in his arms and was kissing her back.

It was as if his dream had come true.

“Celeste,” he said, although not very coherently. “I love you. Please, please marry me.”

At that moment, he knew he’d made a misstep. She stiffened in his arms and then pulled back. She stared at him, a little dishevelled from their encounter, her lips red and swollen, but her wide blue eyes were full of dismay.

“Will, I don’t… I’m not ready to marry anyone, truly I am not. I’m sorry if you thought I was.”

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

She hurried on. “But if I did want to marry anyone, then I would certainly consider you.”

She was being kind, and somehow that hurt more than if she had said he was the last man in the world she would ever marry. He felt like a fool. He even thought he might have heard the tinkle as his heart cracked.

Time to regain what was left of his pride.

“My apologies,” he said, his demeanour stiff. “I misspoke. I fear I am not quite myself. I hope you can forgive my blunder, Miss Morton.”

She squeezed his arm. “Of course.” She said this in the same friendly voice she always used with him. “Think nothing of it! I receive proposals all the time, so this doesn’t concern me in the slightest. I just hope I haven’t hurt your feelings.”

There wasn’t much Will could say to that, but she didn’t seem to expect an answer. At least they were retreating from the roof now and he could breathe again.

As they descended, he tried to give himself some encouragement. Because if she refused everybody who proposed to her, she wasn’t likely to marry that cad, Hunter.

So, there was still a chance Will might be able to change her mind. And when Will was determined on something, there was very little that could dissuade him.