Larken Page 8

  Brandon gestured toward the dance floor. “I’d love a demonstration.”

  Larken blanched. “I’m not ready to dance for anyone yet!”

  “Mrs. King, in my opinion you’re more than ready,” Rowe said.

  “A little performance anxiety is to be expected, and it’s better to get it over with sooner rather than later,” Clarissa said. “Here, at least, the audience is friendly.”

  Rowe bowed, led Larken to the center of the dance floor, and murmured something that made her laugh. Brandon leaned against the piano as Clarissa played the opening bars of a waltz. The sound of Larken’s merriment blended with the music in a pleasing fashion that seemed to soothe his soul. The couple began to dance, and Larken’s initial steps—tentative at first—quickly synchronized with her partner’s in a mesmerizing symphony of movement.

  As Brandon watched, he felt a strange, disorienting sensation, almost as if he were seeing Larken for the first time. It struck him as astonishing that such a lovely creature should be his bride. Fate had somehow brought her into his life…and yet it was all wrong. He’d not courted her with adoring glances or flattering compliments, but with a cold contract meant to reduce their marriage to a mockery of the word. Stranger yet was the unfamiliar flicker of emotion in his gut, urging him to cast aside his vow of virtual seclusion and woo her for real.

  I must be losing my resolve…and my mind.

  Without thinking about it overmuch, he walked toward the dancers.

  Rowe paused. “Yes?”

  “May I dance with my wife?” Brandon asked.

  “Most certainly!” Rowe relied.

  As Brandon met Larken’s gaze, he suddenly felt like a hopeful swain desperate to win the heart of a girl more beautiful and desirable than he deserved. When he took her hand in his, he felt her tremble. Was she afraid of him?

  “We’re friends, are we not?” he murmured.

  She nodded.

  “Then you needn’t be fearful.”

  Was his whispered encouragement for her benefit, or for his own? Clarissa played a few introductory bars of music, and as Brandon and Larken began to waltz together, he marveled at how easily she managed to follow his lead.

  “Your lessons have served you well,” he said as they moved about the room. “You dance beautifully.”

  She glanced up at him through her lashes. “Perhaps it’s the skill of my partner which allows me to shine.”

  The little minx is flirting with me! A rush of pleasure at the realization brought a smile.

  “You shine on your own,” he replied. “I’m nearly blinded as it is.”

  A laugh. “Such outrageous flattery will turn my head.”

  “It’s not flattery, I assure you. I speak from my heart.”

  A myriad of expressions crossed her face, and Brandon wished he could guess her thoughts. When the music ended, he bowed low over her hand and kissed it in a lingering fashion that would have earned him a rebuke had he and Larken been strangers.

  Rowe applauded. “I’ve never been as proud of a pupil as I am of Mrs. King.”

  “It was as if you’d been dancing together for years,” Clarissa said.

  Brandon held Larken’s gaze. “I can’t remember a dance I’ve ever enjoyed more.”

  Chapter Eight

  Wishes

  ALTHOUGH LARKEN KEPT HER COUNTENANCE, she was more bewildered than she’d ever been in her life. Her flirtation with Brandon on the dance floor had been meant to tease him for his dispassionate stance the night before, but he’d handled it as deftly as he had the waltz. His compliments and the kiss on her hand had sent her reeling, and she wondered if he was toying with her emotions. Then realization dawned; his behavior was undoubtedly a pretense meant to portray the two of them as a loving couple for Lord Rowe’s and Lady Clarissa’s benefit. Nevertheless, the blazing heat radiating from Brandon’s eyes during their waltz had nearly buckled her knees. No, it would be the height of foolishness to take his behavior seriously. As soon as the brother and sister left Graceling Hall, her husband’s demeanor would grow aloof once more.

  When Brandon finally escorted Lord Rowe and Lady Clarissa to their gig, Larken fled upstairs to splash cool water on her face. The memory of his lips pressed against her hand, however, brought another unwanted blush. Her overwhelming physical reaction to Brandon’s feigned attentions would be almost laughable if it wasn’t so pathetic. Was this seductive demeanor what she could expect from him at all social functions in the future? If so, she’d have to prepare herself better beforehand. She’d nearly been drawn in.

  A glimpse through the window revealed Brandon walking toward the garden. She hid in the concealing shadows and watched him stride past. His movements were like a powerful tiger on the prowl, and she felt her body begin to hum with excitement. What a messy business this strange marriage had become! If her life had turned out differently and she’d met Brandon during her first Season, would she have fallen in love with him? Undoubtedly yes, and she would have certainly had her heart broken to pieces thereafter. Larken bit her lip in frustration, wishing she knew what mysterious qualities Mariah Pettigrew had possessed to attract both Brandon and his brother. Whatever it was, Larken apparently was in extraordinarily short supply.

  After Brandon disappeared into the gardening shed, Larken left the window and went in search of Myles. She found him in the playroom, wrestling with a jigsaw puzzle of Europe. He gave her a bright smile when she entered the room.

  “Did Mr. King come to your lesson?”

  “Indeed he did, and we waltzed together. He’s as skillful a dancer as Lord Rowe.”

  Myles’ lower lip protruded. “I should’ve come to the ballroom. I want to watch you and Mr. King dance.”

  “Perhaps some other time.” Her gaze fell to the half-assembled jigsaw puzzle. “Hmm…you’ve mixed up Switzerland and the Netherlands…”

  She sank down next to him on the carpet, and they spent a pleasant hour together. The distinct smell of roses broke her concentration.

  “I smell flowers,” Myles said.

  “I do too. It’s tea time. Perhaps one of the servants brought a bouquet with tea.”

  Although tea had been laid out, however, no fresh flowers were in evidence. Puzzled, Larken left Myles at the table and followed the heady fragrance to the open door of her bedroom. Inside, a shock awaited her. Red blooms were mounded on her dresser, on the window seat, and on the coverlet of her bed. As she collected the flowers, she noticed they’d been carefully trimmed to remove the thorns. Next to the pile on her pillow, she found a note from Brandon inviting her to dine with him that evening, alone. Astonished, she sank into a chair and tried to make sense of the dramatic and undeniably romantic gesture. With anyone other than Brandon, she would have concluded he was expressing his affection for her. Surely he must know red roses conveyed the sentiments of love and passion. Yet the previous evening, he’d declared that to be impossible.

  She gathered the roses into a huge bouquet and brought them back to the sitting room, where the maid was waiting to pour her tea. Myles’ eyes widened at the sheer number of blooms.

  “Where did you get those?” he asked.

  “They were a surprise from Mr. King.”

  “How beautiful!” the maid exclaimed.

  Larken set the bouquet onto the tea cart. “Could you arrange them properly into vases for me? I’ll pour the tea.”

  “Yes, Mrs. King.”

  The maid disappeared with the flowers, and Larken filled a cup with hot, bracing tea.

  “Men give women flowers when they like them,” Myles said.

  “Mr. King was being kind, I think. He knows how much I enjoy roses.” She paused. “I’m to have dinner tonight with him again.”

  “Me too?”

  “Not this time.”

  Myles snickered.

  “What?” Larken asked.

  “Mr. King must like you a great deal.”

  “Hush!” Larken couldn’t suppress a smile.

&nb
sp; While dressing for dinner that evening, Brandon felt as anxious as an awkward, adolescent lad with spots on his face. He’d not been nearly as nervous when courting Mariah, but perhaps he had far more to lose this time. Although it was painful to admit, his youthful attraction to Mariah had been shallow and based solely on the untouchable perfection of her features. Her hand had never trembled in his, nor had a blush ever warmed her cheeks. In fact, he doubted he’d ever managed to touch her heart at all. Worse, he’d been so bitter about her betrayal, he’d never fully appreciated how fortunate he was to have escaped marriage to a woman who was so fickle and self-centered. By contrast, Larken was not only physically beautiful, but she was vulnerable, warm, and lovely inside as well. Unfortunately, he’d placed himself at a distinct disadvantage by behaving toward her in an autocratic and cold fashion. Could she forgive and forget?

  His valet must have sensed his mood because he brought him a glass of port without being asked. With murmured thanks, Brandon gulped down the spirits and then headed to the drawing room to await his wife. He paced, wondering if she’d liked his gift of roses. Perhaps his gesture had been too forward? A single rose might have been better, but it was too late to second guess himself now.

  When Larken arrived, she wore an off-the-shoulder gown of palest pink that left her décolletage and most of her shapely arms bare. His mouth went dry.

  “You look stunning.”

  A smile. “Thank you. And the flowers were lovely.”

  “You deserve them.”

  “Do I?” She searched his face. “I confess you have me at a loss, Brandon. Forgive me if I’ve misinterpreted your actions, but for a man who has forsworn romance, you’re behaving quite strangely. Please explain what you’re about so I can keep up.”

  “I am behaving strangely, I admit, and it’s difficult to explain. It’s as if I’ve suddenly woken up from a long sleep.”

  “I’m sorry, but I still don’t understand.”

  “Your presence at Graceling Hall has shown me what a complete fool I’ve been. I’m asking for forgiveness and a chance to start over.”

  “Start over?”

  “I’d like to court you properly, Larken.”

  “What?”

  “I’m willing to do whatever it takes to earn your trust. Perhaps if we work at it, we’ll eventually have a real marriage, with children.”

  She said nothing, but her eyes filled with tears. Panic seized him by the throat. Had he overshot the mark and declared himself too soon?

  “Please tell me what you’re thinking, Larken. I can’t bear this silence.”

  Larken’s thoughts and emotions were in such turmoil that she couldn’t seem to make sense of what Brandon was suggesting.

  “Your change of heart is so abrupt, I’m not sure how to answer you.”

  “It seems abrupt because of the stupid, ill-considered things I said last night. I haven’t wanted to admit it, but I’ve been changing since you and Myles came into my life. It’s been coming on gradually, but I suddenly realized the depth of my feelings today in the ballroom.”

  Perhaps the years of abuse at the hands of the Howleys had made Larken singularly mistrustful, but she couldn’t ignore Brandon’s formerly dismissive attitude. And yet…she yearned for a loving marriage. Children. Everything she’d been told she couldn’t have.

  “How do I know you won’t change your mind again?” she said.

  “I’ll convince you otherwise. Just allow me woo you, like I should have done from the beginning. I-I’m not asking for you to take me into your bed right away.” He had the grace to blush. “Do you think you could ever care for me?”

  Although she suspected she cared for him more than she wanted to admit, she was reluctant to say so. If Brandon wished to woo her, let him work at it.

  “Perhaps.”

  His dazzling smile was meltingly beautiful, but she held up her hand in warning.

  “Brandon, this isn’t as simple as you might suppose.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We have to consider Myles’ feelings. He wants us to fall in love. What will we tell him if we don’t?”

  “For me, I’m afraid it may already be too late.”

  When Brandon took her hand and kissed it like he had in the ballroom, Larken made a soft sound deep in her throat. Her reaction seemed to embolden him, and he trailed fiery kisses along the bare skin of her forearm. Before he could go much further, the butler interrupted to announce dinner. Larken felt the disappointment down to her toes.

  “Thank you, Seagate,” Brandon said.

  Although Brandon released her, his lingering half-lidded gaze left no doubt in Larken’s mind as to what he wanted. Truth be told, she wanted the same thing, but it was far, far too soon. She would allow him into her bed when he’d earned her trust completely and not before—no matter how sorely she was tested.

  Fortunately for her resolve, Brandon’s demeanor shifted from seductive to solicitous over dinner. They compared notes about favorite books and music, and he asked her questions about her childhood. When the conversation turned to her pretend friends, Larken laughed.

  “Mrs. Howley thought it was the accident that made me odd, but I’ve always had an active imagination. Of course, my whimsical nature came out a great deal more often when I lived with the Howleys because I lacked playmates.” She giggled. “I still regret having to leave Mr. Marmalade behind.”

  “I was quite fortunate to have a brother as a playmate. We were so close in age, many people mistook Theo and me for twins.”

  “You miss him terribly, don’t you?”

  Brandon’s expression became bleak.

  “I’m tortured by his death…even more so now that I realize Mariah wasn’t the woman for me. If only I’d been more gracious, my father wouldn’t have disinherited Theo and she wouldn’t have left him.” He shook his head. “Because of my selfishness, my brother took his own life.”

  His hand, which had been resting on the table, clenched. Larken covered it with hers.

  “I’m so very sorry,” she murmured.

  With a visible effort, Brandon got his emotions under control. “Thank you.”

  “I can’t help but think you’re being too hard on yourself. How do you know he took his own life? With no evidence to the contrary, Theo’s death could have been an accident, or a robbery gone horribly wrong.”

  “The police identified him by a pocket watch he always carried, engraved with his name. If it had been a robbery, the watch would have been taken. Theo went to Liverpool to talk Mariah out of setting sail for America. When he failed, I believe he decided to end it.”

  “Even if that’s true, the fault is Mariah’s, not yours.”

  “Partly, yes. But there is more than enough blame to go around.”

  For the remainder of the meal, Brandon was subdued. Larken could tell his mind was elsewhere, so she didn’t take it personally. In fact, she was glad to share a little of his pain. After dinner, Brandon escorted her to the stairs and said good night.

  “I didn’t mean to spoil the mood tonight,” she said.

  “You didn’t. It’s just my brooding nature coming out again. It’s funny, but I always thought it was Theo who had a tendency toward melancholy. I suppose I learned it from him.” He gave her a sad smile. “Don’t worry, I’ll be better in the morning. I almost always am. Please come down for breakfast, won’t you?”

  “Yes. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  As Larken readied herself for bed that night, she had much to contemplate. In his own way, Brandon was suffering as much from his loss as she was from hers. Could two such tormented individuals forge a happy life together, especially considering their rocky beginning? Perhaps desire and motivation would overcome the long odds.

  I hope so.

  Indeed, Brandon managed to shake off his doldrums by morning, and he greeted Larken warmly when she appeared in the dining room for breakfast.

  “I hope Myles isn’t too unhappy eating alone?”
he asked.

  “He has Lord Topper, Miss Josie, and Lady Peabody for company.”

  “What happened to Lord Apollo?”

  “He’s having breakfast with me.”

  “Aha! What inspired such a name?”

  “Oh…it’s quite silly, really. When my parents took me to London for my birthday, we went to the Adelphi Theatre for a matinée. I was rather taken by one of the handsome young actors in the performance, so my father brought me backstage afterward to have him sign my program. His name was Lord Apollo, and I’d never been so thrilled in my entire life.”

  “What does that have to do with my portrait?”

  A flush of embarrassment stung her cheeks. “Your portrait reminded me of him a little.”

  “I’m flattered. When is your birthday, by the way? We’ll plan a celebration.”

  She averted her eyes. “I had my nineteenth birthday already this year.”

  “When?”

  “A few weeks ago.”

  He stared at her. “You had a birthday and I didn’t say anything? I’m mortified!”

  She shrugged. “I’m used to it. It’s really just another day now.”

  “No, it’s not. We must have a party, and you shall have presents.”

  “You already bought me an entire wardrobe! I lack for nothing.”

  A mischievous glance. “I know just what I’ll give you for a gift.”

  “Brandon, I—”

  “Shh! I’ll speak to the cook after breakfast, and we’ll have a family party tonight with you, me, and Myles. Would that please you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. It’s settled. And I promise, you’ll never celebrate your birthday alone again.”

  Larken’s throat tightened with emotion, and her lower lip trembled.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  Unable to speak, she shook her head. Then, with a choked sob, she dissolved into tears. Brandon stood, pulled her to her feet, and held her in his arms. She rested her head on his shoulder and breathed in his fragrance until the shudders racking her body eased.

  “It’s been so long since anyone cared about me, I’d forgotten what it feels like,” she murmured.