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Page 7 of With One Look (Sisters Duet #1)

CHAPTER

a

7

T heo strolled down the main street in Ralston village. It was a pretty little town, nestled in some rolling hills. Signs of prosperity were everywhere, an indication that Lord Ralston, the area’s chief landowner, was a just and wise ruler. He recognized that, when his people thrived, he thrived too.

The shops were open, and many tourists had already arrived for the fair, so they were doing a brisk business. Tents and booths were being erected, and on the village green, a stage had been constructed. Local musicians would provide entertainment during the day, and there would be dancing out-of-doors on Friday and Saturday nights.

She’d had a stableboy drive her over and he’d parked their carriage at the blacksmith’s barn. They’d agreed to meet in two hours, then he’d transport her home. She had coins in her reticule, so she could have snooped and shopped, but she didn’t really need anything. She was simply glad to have escaped Peachtree for a bit.

Every minute she passed there, she was reminded of how Arthur had hurt her with the sale. He hadn’t been callous or cruel about it, but he’d hurt her just the same. He’d been terribly sorry to have proceeded, and he’d complained about how his running HH Imports occupied too much of his time, how it was hard for him to live in the country when he had so many pressing tasks in the city.

None of that clarified why she and Charlotte couldn’t have continued to reside at Peachtree. At their social level, it was expected that a prosperous family would have a rural estate. With their relinquishing it, he’d conveyed the perception that they weren’t as wealthy as they pretended to be. Could that be right? She hadn’t noted any hints of financial difficulty, but what if Arthur was having fiscal problems?

She suspected she should sit him down and interrogate him, but they’d never had that sort of relationship. A female wasn’t supposed to fret over money and no doubt, if she attempted a conversation, Arthur would pat her on the head and tell her it was too complicated for her to comprehend.

Her father had been such a competent and careful man, so she’d never understood why he hadn’t written a Will. She’d never had a discussion with him about it, about whether he might have set aside dowries for her and her sister. He’d died when she was fifteen, so she hadn’t yet wondered about such issues. Nor would she have been courageous enough to pester him for information.

He’d been a stranger to her, and on the infrequent occasions when they’d fraternized, he’d been angry, gruff, and unapproachable. He’d viewed his daughters as a nuisance who looked just like—and would eventually act just like—their wicked mother. How could she have badgered him on any topic?

Georgina claimed there had been no bequests for any of them, but there had been an earlier directive that Arthur should have HH Imports. Theo had once inquired about the possibility of Arthur arranging a dowry for her, but Georgina had explained that she was marrying him, so there was no point.

Recently, she’d started to question every facet of her life. She’d never trusted Georgina, and after her father had perished, her stepmother had assumed control of Theo’s world. Theo had never demanded any alterations to that situation. Should she have? Should she request a financial accounting of HH Imports? As a female, was she entitled to it? If she raised a fuss, would Arthur supply it?

She’d often fantasized about ridding herself of Georgina, but after she wed Arthur, she’d never be free of her. A young lady wasn’t permitted to live by herself, unless she was a shocking eccentric like Charlotte who wasn’t concerned about appearances.

Theo would never be described as a bohemian agitator, and she possessed none of Charlotte’s bravado, but what if she asked for an allowance? What if she hired a companion and rented her own lodging? She could enjoy a few months or years away from Georgina before she became Arthur’s bride.

She pondered the absurd idea, and she tried to imagine the debates she’d have to have with both of them in order to bring it about. Arthur would laugh and figure she was joking, but she’d give Georgina an apoplexy, and she would hate to be responsible for killing her stepmother.

She chuckled at her foolishness and tossed the silly notions away. Her sporadic visits to Peachtree always left her reeling with emotion, and on such a lovely summer afternoon, it was ridiculous to contemplate maddening schemes or futile dreams. The better plan would be to press Arthur to pick a wedding date. If she married him, her future would be settled, and she wouldn’t obsess about things she couldn’t change.

She’d been so lost in thought that she peered around and realized she didn’t know where she was. She paused to get her bearings. There was a church in the center of town, the steeple visible from every angle, and she’d just decided to head toward it when she gazed down the block and Lord Thornhill was standing there. The sight of him was so unexpected, and so peculiar, that she had to blink and blink to be sure she wasn’t hallucinating. But it was really him.

He looked magnificent, his color high, his blond hair glowing in the bright sunshine. He wore it long and it was tied with a black ribbon. He wasn’t dressed like an aristocrat, but was attired in more casual clothes: tan trousers, a flowing white shirt, scuffed boots. The temperature was balmy and he hadn’t bothered with a coat or hat. His shirtsleeves were rolled up to reveal his strong, bronzed forearms.

She suffered the most dangerous thrill of excitement. It felt as if the universe had engineered their meeting. Her pulse was pounding, her hands reaching out to him, as if she should pull him to her and cradle him close.

For some odd reason, she was near to tears, as if she might weep with delight. There was a chorus singing in her ear, one that only she could discern, and it was proclaiming: Here he is! Just for you! Here he is! What will you do about it?

He finally noticed her and it was clear he was bewildered too, to have stumbled on her. Once he grasped that it was truly her, he smiled his devasting smile.

“Theodora Cronenworth,” he murmured. “Am I glad to see you!”

She was more than glad. She was ecstatic, but she was also cognizant of her precarious predicament. She was betrothed and on holiday with her fiancé and his mother, but just that minute, Arthur might have been on the moon. He seemed that far away.

It dawned on her that she might not be as straitlaced as she’d always believed. Her mother’s debauched blood flowed in her veins, and while she constantly insisted she wasn’t like her mother, she’d never been tantalized by a dashing rogue either. Since she’d never been enticed, it had been easy to profess stellar character.

Deep down, was she a tart? Apparently, there was a very good chance—when push came to shove—she was no better than she had to be.

He walked toward her, and there was the strangest perception in the air, as if Time had stood still, as if people had vanished and they were the last humans left in the world. She couldn’t guess what he planned, but he clasped her wrist and dragged her away. No matter his destination, she was merrily eager to follow in any direction he chose to go.

They hurried into an alley, and he stopped next to a dilapidated shed, probably a spot where a horse was stabled. He stepped inside and yanked her in with him. Without a word being exchanged, he dipped in and kissed her!

It was the most exhilarating, most shocking thing that had ever happened to her, and she was so astonished that she didn’t beg him to desist. She simply wrapped her arms around him and kissed him back, and she imbued the embrace with all the affection she could muster.

Their bodies were crushed together from chins to toes, their hands roaming, as his mouth plundered hers in an electrifying manner. She’d been kissed during her boarding-school days, so she’d deemed herself to be an expert at romance. But those bungling adolescent boys, with their fumbling advances, had naught in common with what an adult male could deliver.

The encounter was decadent and erotic, but wonderful and perfect too. Who carried on like this? What type of degenerates shared a glance on a public street, then raced to a deserted location to dally? They’d let loose their worst impulses. How would they ever lock them back in the moral cages where they belonged?

The kiss had started out hot and passionate, but gradually, it grew to be tender and fond. He was holding her as if she was precious and rare, and eventually, he abandoned her lips to nibble across her cheek, down her neck, and he nestled at her nape, his forehead resting on her shoulder.

“What are we doing?” he said.

“I have no idea.”

“You must think I’m mad.”

“You must think the same of me.”

He straightened and stared down at her, and his expression was so full of yearning that she was completely flummoxed. Did he fancy her? Were they establishing a perilous, illicit bond? If so, why would she be amenable?

She wasn’t foolish enough to suppose he’d become sincerely smitten. He’d been raised at a lower level in life, and previously, he might have been a suitable beau for her, but he’d been lifted up to be an earl. After he was tired of being a bachelor, he would select a bridal candidate from the highest echelons in the kingdom.

And he needed to find an heiress with a fat dowry so he could use it to repair Thornhill. Theo would never be the one he’d pick, so why would she misbehave with him? It was deranged conduct.

There was no path that would allow them to flirt and fraternize. Plus, he was a depraved cad who kept a mistress. Corrupt men acted out in awful ways and it was likely that he seduced young ladies like her for sport. Just because he was polite and pleasant, it didn’t mean he had decent motives.

If he had any intentions toward her, they would be dishonorable ones. She recognized that fact. She understood that fact, but still—still!—she didn’t draw away and march out.

“Why are you in Ralston?” she asked. “Were you following me? If you admit that you were, I will accuse you of being slightly unhinged.”

“I’m staying here. For the fair? Your stepbrother invited me.”

“Arthur did? He didn’t tell me about it.”

“He rented a house for some of his London acquaintances. When I accepted, I didn’t realize you’d be here too. Later, when you mentioned it, I couldn’t decide if I should apprise you.”

“Whyever not?”

“There’s a potent connection blossoming between us, and I didn’t imagine I should encourage further mischief. With there being such big crowds at this festival, I was hoping I wouldn’t bump into you.”

She facetiously batted her lashes. “You certainly know how to make me feel special.”

“I was afraid this sort of explosion might transpire.”

“Are you claiming I’m irresistible? Am I to believe you’re smitten? If that’s your ploy, it will be obvious that you’re toying with my affections.”

“I will confess that I’ve been dying to kiss you from the moment we met.”

She scoffed. “You have not. Don’t be ridiculous.”

Out in the alley, a man walked by with a horse, and they held very still, silently praying it wasn’t his property. Luckily, he continued on by and they breathed a sigh of relief. Once they were safe from detection, he appeared unconcerned and totally fine, but she’d never been so shameless and her knees were weak with alarm.

“That was a close call,” he said, “so we’ve probably pushed things as far as we dare for one afternoon. We should flee our romantic trysting spot and emerge into the sunshine.”

Like an impish coquette, she snuggled even nearer. “Must we leave? I’d like to hide with you forever.”

“Are you a vixen at heart? Have I lured your buried traits to the fore?”

“I can’t explain the effect you have on me. I’m engaged to be married, remember? How have I wound up in this dreary shed with you?”

“I’ve cast a magic spell, so you’re operating under an enchantment.”

“It definitely seems as if I am. What is happening to us?”

He shrugged. “We share a powerful physical attraction. Some people just do and there’s no accounting for it. Generally, I’ve found that it’s very difficult to fight such a strong pull.”

“You sound as if you regularly tiptoe off with females you bump into on the street. How often has this type of attraction swept over you in the past?”

His cheeks heated with chagrin. “I shouldn’t answer that question.”

“I predict you’d have been delighted to drag me—or any other girl—in here.”

He huffed with mock offense. “Not any other girl. I have a few standards.”

She hugged him as tightly as she could. She didn’t want to ever release him and she was being pummeled by regrets and joy. She was regretting because their peculiar liaison was completely pointless. But she was joyful because he made her so happy. She’d betrayed Arthur, had proved herself a trollop, had leapt into a very dangerous relationship, and she wasn’t sorry! What was wrong with her?

She was already wondering how and when she could sneak off with him again, which was madness in the extreme.

They were still frozen in place, and he wasn’t inclined to get moving, but one of them had to be in charge. She had no idea what time it was, but she was positive her groomsman would be waiting to convey her to Peachtree Haven.

She eased away from him and stepped to the door, then she peeked out and exited into the alley. Though he looked reluctant, he joined her. They dawdled, studying features and smiling like halfwits. If a spectator had observed them, it would have been blatantly clear that they were obscenely besotted.

“Why are you in the village?” he asked. “I was so excited to stumble on you that I never inquired.”

“I was bored and at loose ends, so I’d hoped to do some shopping before the tourist hordes arrive. My carriage is parked at the blacksmith’s barn, and I’m sure I’m late and my driver is worried about where I am.”

“May I escort you there?”

“You’d better.”

He glanced around, saw no one in the vicinity, then he dipped in and kissed her a final time. It was simply a quick peck of his lips to hers and he didn’t attempt a more passionate embrace.

“That’s in case I can’t steal a kiss in the future,” he said.

“You shouldn’t kiss me ever. Not now or in the future. I’m insane to have allowed it.”

“I like to take chances.”

They started off, but they sauntered slowly, his limp noticeable.

“Is your leg bothering you?” she asked.

“It always bothers me.”

“I kept you standing on your feet for an eternity. You should have told me that you were uncomfortable.”

“I was having too much fun and I wasn’t about to stop merely because my leg was aching.”

“Where is the house Arthur rented? You didn’t tell me, and I should know where it is, so I don’t walk in on you by accident.”

“I won’t apprise you and please don’t try to locate it. I’m locked away with a group of London dandies who are debauched and disgusting, and you shouldn’t ever pop in to chat.”

She snorted with amusement. “They’re debauched and disgusting? They must be exactly like you.”

“Oh, they’re much worse than I could ever dream of being.” They were quiet for a bit, then he said, “What’s the name of your home? Peachtree Haven?”

“Yes, Peachtree. It’s where my sister and I grew up. Arthur sold it though, so we don’t own it anymore.”

“He sold your childhood home? That was awfully cruel. Why would he have?”

“It’s a long story,” she said, not eager to air her family’s dirty laundry. “It wasn’t a total disaster. A cousin purchased it and he permits us to use it for our holidays. I can still visit occasionally.”

“Arthur mentioned that he might invite me to supper. What would you think of that? Should I accept? Or should I stay away? What is your preference? My preference is to accept, so I can be with you again, but I’m betting that’s not your choice.”

For a moment, she stared up at the sky and pondered the situation. It was a deranged notion. They’d have to tamp down their infatuation and pretend they were barely acquainted. It would be foolish and hazardous.

It’s what she should have told him, but when she opened her mouth, the most exasperating words flowed out. “You should say yes. ”

He assessed her dubiously. “Are you certain?”

“No! But come anyway, and how about Friday and Saturday nights? Will you attend the dances on the village green?”

“Absolutely.”

“Then you have to promise to track me down and dance with me.”

“I’ll partner with you every set—if you feel like being that brave. And if my poor leg can hold up.”

They reached the yard outside the blacksmith’s barn, so they had to cease their flirtatious banter. As she’d predicted, her groomsman was over by the carriage and watching for her. He waved and began fussing with the vehicle so they could depart.

After he’d turned away, she spun to Lord Thornhill and said, “This was a lovely encounter. From now on, that decrepit shed will be my favorite spot in Ralston.”

“May I hope we can arrange a second encounter very soon?”

Her pulse raced at the suggestion. “No, you shouldn’t hope for that, but I’m very afraid—should I bump into you again—I won’t be able to control myself.”

“Aren’t I lucky then?”

“I can’t decide if you are lucky, but as to myself, it appears I’m in a great deal of trouble.”

“If I keep sneaking off with you, maybe I’ll convince you to break off your engagement.”

She frowned. “You don’t like Arthur, do you?”

“No, I can’t abide him.”

“Yet you’re tucked away in the house he rented. He assumes you’re friends, so apparently, one of you has a skewed view of what your relationship entails.”

“He likes me just fine, but I think he’s an idiot.”

“If I severed my betrothal,” she said, “what would happen to me? Would you leap into the breach and propose to me instead?”

A look of such horror crossed his face that she laughed loud and hard.

“I’m a confirmed bachelor,” he insisted. “I’m not interested in marrying you or any other woman.”

“I realize that, and besides, you need an heiress. You haven’t admitted it, but that’s your path, and rich girls are very difficult to find. You probably ought to start searching.”

She patted his chest, when she shouldn’t have, then she whipped away and hurried over to the carriage. They couldn’t have a poignant goodbye. Their affection was bubbling over, and if he squeezed her hand in farewell, or if they gazed like fond lovers, the stableboy would note the gesture, and there would be gossip in the kitchen.

How long would it take for Georgina or Arthur to hear rumors?

She climbed in and relaxed on the seat, as the stableboy closed and latched the door. Then he hoisted himself into the box and called to the horses.

She hadn’t planned to glance out at Lord Thornhill, but at the last instant, she leaned out the window. His expression was particularly forlorn, as if he’d miss her forever.

“If Arthur invites you to supper,” she said, “you have to come.”

“I will.”

He nodded and the horses pulled her away. She doubted anyone could see her so, like the worst sort of hussy, she blew him a kiss. He grinned, happy that she’d dared, and she sank back and didn’t peer out again.

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