How to Fall for the Wrong Man (Ladies of Passion) Page 9

  As to that nonsense about him being in love with me, Lady Yarmouth had to be mistaken…didn’t she?

  Chapter Eight

  Edwin Sutton was the most boring man ever to grace this Earth. And, having watched him for an entire morning and part of an afternoon, I was an expert on the subject. Did he intend to be so dull for the next ten days of our association? Not that he knew I watched. Ever since I’d arrived in secret, having pilfered a footman’s uniform for the house, he’d cloistered himself in his study to look at plants and then retreated into the tiny patch of garden to tend other plants.

  As if a weed would dare grow in the small corner of flowering bushes. Edwin had been on his hands and knees, lovingly combing through the dirt by the roots and pruning the branches, for what seemed like hours. No garden had ever looked as luscious and flourishing as the small patch of dirt by the far left corner of his compact yard. I rested my head on the glass pane of the hallway window. Here, the corridor broadened into an alcove broad enough to encompass three such windows, each as broad as my shoulders and taller than me. Wan light from the cloud-covered sky streamed past the heavy yellow curtains, secured to the right of each window with a black sash. The light played across a heavy black runner rich with a yellow damask pattern winding through it. The floorboards near to the center window were marred with the dusty residue of my breeches. I rubbed at it with the toe of my boot.

  “Would you like a spot of tea, Mary?”

  I jumped at the sound of Nancy’s voice. She had been trying to foist a cup of tea on me ever since I’d arrived this morning. I tried not to scowl, but the corners of my mouth turned down in a frown, anyway. “Can’t you see I’m hard at work?”

  Nancy blinked several times and failed to contain a smile. Her eyelashes fluttered in front of her eyes like butterflies. She thrust the tea tray in front of her. And…was that a cookie? I almost reached for it but stopped myself.

  I was, after all, working.

  “I see a woman staring forlornly at the object of her affections.”

  At that, I did scowl. “That is not at all the case. I’m watching him, yes, but for educational purposes.”

  Nancy chuckled.

  I bit the inside of my cheek, determined to keep my frustrations to myself. I mustered a serene smile. “No, I would not like any tea, thank you.”

  When I turned back to the window, resuming my vigilant stance even though my feet ached from so much loitering, the click of Nancy’s footsteps punctuated the steady beat of my heart. She took with her the sweet scent of baking.

  With a sigh, I resumed my surveillance of Edwin. How many hours could he weed?

  The clouds thickened. By my reckoning, the sun passed its zenith by the time the next person interrupted me.

  “You’re sending your mail here already, Mary?”

  I yelped. I hadn’t heard Nancy’s approach. I turned away from the window, putting my back to Edwin. Not that he would likely notice one way or another. He was utterly oblivious when it came to his staff. Put on a black-and-gold uniform, and he forgot you were even there.

  Nancy raised an eyebrow as she offered me a thin envelope, sealed with wax. I snatched it from her hands.

  “I am not sending my mail here. I let my household know where I’d be today in case they needed me. Puck wasn’t feeling quite the thing this morning and I sent for a friend of mine to look at him.”

  She accepted that explanation readily enough. With a look of concern, she rested her hand on my sleeve. “You haven’t eaten all day. Why don’t you come down to lunch? He’ll still be there when you get back.”

  Sadly, I had no doubt that was true. Edwin had an unrelenting well of patience, to be able to abide such a dull existence. I smiled at Nancy. “I’ll be down in a moment. I want to read this letter first.”

  Nancy hesitated, curiosity overwhelming her features, but she nodded and retreated without asking after the contents of the letter.

  Even I didn’t know, yet.

  When she’d disappeared down the servant’s stairwell to my rear, I broke the wax seal and unfolded the missive. A wave of relief washed through me. My friend had examined Puck and deduced that his vomiting was not caused by intestinal worms, he had likely eaten something he shouldn’t have and would mend now that he had purged it. She chided me over jumping to conclusions, but she didn’t have a dog. Puck was my most constant and loyal companion. If I lost him too, after everyone else…

  Moisture blurred my gaze. I wiped my eyes with the back of my hands. Puck was in good health. I didn’t need anyone else. Not even Edwin. Given that we were destined to part ways again in ten days, I couldn’t grow to rely on him like I had in the past. He used to be the constant companion in my life, but once he’d left London for Oxford, he hadn’t received a single letter. He’d grown up and hadn’t thought of me at all.

  Then again, why would he? I’d made it known in no uncertain terms if he left, he was dead to me forever. Even if that had been a rash, childish thing to say…was it any wonder he’d purged me from his life?

  I turned away from the window and the boring, heartbreaking man in the garden below. Nancy awaited me in the kitchen. I wiped every last shred of moisture from my cheeks before strolling to meet her with a falsely bright smile.

  The kitchen staff lounged around the pock-marked table, sitting on tall stools that almost put their bottoms level with its surface. They ate small pastries with browned ground meat in them, leftovers at my guess, since steam didn’t waft from them. When I joined them at the table, Nancy pushed a basket toward me.

  I frowned at her. “What’s this?”

  “Lord Sutton hasn’t had a bite to eat all day. Will you bring it to him?”

  Every time I thought of him, a snarl of emotions took wing in my gut. My panic at my attraction to him warred with my hope that the Edwin I knew still existed somewhere inside him. That he might once have harbored tender feelings for me. My stomach rebelled at the thought of facing him.

  I recoiled, waving my hands in front of my face. “No. Absolutely not. He doesn’t even know I’m in his house.”

  And I wanted to keep it that way.

  Nancy turned her big brown eyes on me. Genuine concern lit their depths. “He won’t listen to us. But you have a way of getting through to him. Please.”

  I knew she cared for her liege lord. It was part of the reason I felt such affection for her. Not many households were as close-knit as his. His was a family.

  A large, sprawling family that pried too much into each other’s businesses.

  I sighed. “Fine. Give me an apron and a hat. Maybe he won’t recognize me.”

  Several of the kitchen staff smirked, even as Mop-hair complied and shucked his garments for me to use. I tied the apron around my livery and tucked my hair up under the hat. It was a shoddy disguise, but Edwin was a lot like Francine when it came to plants. He might be so preoccupied that he didn’t look any closer than the façade.

  Glaring at Nancy, I hoisted the basket. Although it was a compact little thing no bigger than a foot cubed, it weighed as much as a watermelon. I pressed my lips together as I held it aloft on one arm.

  “There had better be cookies when I get back.”

  She only grinned, the devil.

  I exited the townhouse into the tiny yard out back. Edwin, the only creature in the yard, crouched in the far corner from the kitchen door. I trekked the basket to him and set it down in the brittle grass.

  Lowing my voice to a husky whisper in the hope of disguising it, I said, “You missed lunch. I brought you a basket.”

  His head snapped up. His eyes bugged out of his head. “Mary? Why are you here—and by Jove, what are you wearing?”

  I glanced down and cringed. So much for the disguise. The hat was itchy anyway. I tugged it from my head and tossed it on the ground beside the basket as I removed the apron from around my waist.

  “I was trying to be innocuous.”

  He scoffed, sitting back on his heels and
craning his neck back. He was so tall, his head reached almost to my shoulder. “You’re many things, but innocuous is not one of them.”

  My mouth twisted with distaste. I tried to hide it by drawing attention to the basket. I nudged it toward him with my boot. “Regardless, you haven’t eaten today, and I was manhandled by your staff into ensuring you did.”

  He frowned. His eyebrows dropped low over his eyes and a little dimple formed in his clean-shaven chin. I almost smiled but bit the inside of my cheek to hold it at bay.

  “My staff sent for you because I haven’t eaten? That seems unlikely. I’ve skipped meals before.”

  I sighed. “I was already here.”

  “So they took advantage and bullied you into my livery?”

  I didn’t know where to put my hands. I clenched and unclenched them, almost raising them to fold in front of my chest, but thinking better of it at the last second. “No. That was my idea.”

  He chuckled under his breath, raising his gaze to the sky. “Of course it was.” When he swung his gaze around to me again, the slightest glimmer of a smile ghosted across his lips. “You look ridiculous, by the way.”

  I dropped to my knees in the dirt beside him. “Are you going to eat or not? Because I haven’t eaten either, and I’ll gladly take your share.”

  He tugged the apron closer and turned it so the clean side faced upward. Then he patted it, motioning for me to sit next to him.

  I stared at him like he’d grown two heads. “I’m not afraid of getting dirty.”

  “I never said you were. But that is my livery, and some unlucky soul will have to wash it later.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest but crawled over to the apron and sat on it. “Funny how you care about my clothes but soil yours to the extreme.”

  “They’re used to my clothes being dirty. Besides, it gives them something to do.”

  He teased, but he nudged me over with his elbow so he could share the apron’s space. Once he settled onto his rump beside me, he dusted the dirt off his kneecaps.

  Fat lot of good that would do after he’d been kneeling in the dry soil for hours. I dragged the basket closer and opened it to see what spoils resided within.

  I found two pastries exactly like the ones the servants ate, along with cheese, grapes, sliced poultry, round buns the size of my fist, and two apple turnovers. My mouth watered. I helped myself to a turnover first.

  Edwin laughed. “You’ll spoil your lunch if you skip right to dessert.”

  I stuck out my chin. “Maybe you will.” I bit into the pastry. It was delicious even when cooled. I shut my eyes as I tried to lick all the filling poised to pour out of the shell and onto my hand.

  Edwin reached past me and plucked something out of the basket. His arm brushed against my leg. I shifted in spot, moving out of the way as I opened my eyes.

  He lifted the other apple turnover as he raised his eyebrows. “It looks like I ought to eat this before it’s stolen right from under my nose.”

  I grinned around a mouthful of pastry. I polished off mine before he’d even taken two bites. The filling poured out all over his hands. He juggled the pastry, trying to thrust it into his mouth before any more of the juicy apple escaped. When he searched for a handkerchief, I grasped his wrist, holding him in place.

  “Don’t waste it.”

  He leveled an exasperated expression toward me. “My hands are covered in dirt. It’s already wasted.”

  “Not all of it.” I searched for and found a patch of skin by the base of his thumb free of dirt. I brought it to my mouth and licked the filling away.

  When I glanced up, his pupils devoured his gaze, which he latched onto my mouth. He reached for me. And heaven help me, I met him halfway.

  Our mouths clashed as we each fought for supremacy. He held my head steady with one hand, using the other to urge me against his body as he rose to his knees. We pressed together from shoulder to thigh. He shifted and lifted me so my full weight was against him as he drifted back onto the grass. He lengthened his body as he went. I rested half on him and half on the apron, but it wasn’t close enough for him. He tried to shift my weight fully on top of him. I gasped for air and stared down at him.

  Panic lit his gaze at the same time as it clawed at my throat. I rolled away to lie on my back beside him in the grass. Every part of my body tingled with awareness. Of his mouth. Of his hands. My breath hitched.

  For a long while, neither one of us moved. I stared at the drifting clouds overhead.

  “This keeps happening,” Edwin said to the empty air. “I swear, I don’t set out to seduce you.”

  “Seduce me?” I snorted, levering myself onto one elbow to peer at his face. He looked scared, vulnerable. I softened my voice. “As if you could.”

  His throat worked, but he only waved his hand between us to indicate our bodies.

  I shook my head. “If anything, I’d say I don’t set out to seduce you.”

  He raised himself on one elbow, bringing his face closer to mine. “You seduce me? Because your feminine wiles are so irresistible.”

  I laughed, a low, hard sound. “They’re a sight better than your charms. I don’t think happening to be male and sometimes in the vicinity of a woman counts as seduction.”

  “Oh?” His eyebrow shot up and in the next instant, he was kissing me again. Urgently, passionately. One hand cupped the side of my head, including part of my bare jaw. It was still sticky from the filling. At that moment, I didn’t care, because his lips worked magic over mine that I felt in tingles all the way down to my toes.

  When had someone last kissed me this passionately, like I was the only woman in the world? Hariti and I had had some hot nights, but nothing a single kiss rivaled. I didn’t feel the scrape of her stubble on my chin as she shifted her head.

  Of course I didn’t. Because Hariti was a woman. And Edwin was a man.

  With my head still spinning, I pressed my hand against Edwin’s chest and pushed. He broke the kiss, rolling onto his back with an unreadable expression as he surveyed my face. He was breathing hard.

  A fleeting smile came to his lips as he said, “There. I defy you to say you did any seducing.”

  There shouldn’t be any seducing. On either side. What had happened to us? We used to have such easy camaraderie as children, friendship that had been stripped away and replaced by something…primal. I couldn’t define it.

  But it touched every part of me. Even the part that was quivering, scared.

  I swallowed. If he’d never left for Oxford, if I’d never driven him away when he announced his intentions to go, would this still have blossomed between us? Or would he have abided by the no-kiss rule I’d laid down the first day we’d met? I licked my lips, meeting his gaze with uncertainty.

  He must have sensed the change in my mood, because his playful mood dropped away, replaced by seriousness. He reached out to me.

  I scrambled to my feet so quickly, I crushed some of the dry, brittle grass. It smelled acrid.

  “Mary?” His voice was hesitant, tentative.

  I couldn’t look at him. I darted out of range and wrapped my arms around my waist. Almost like crossing them, but not quite.

  “I should go. I have apple turnover in my hair. I need to bathe and change.”

  He still sprawled over the grass, but he pushed himself onto his elbows. There was something guarded in his gaze. “Of course.” He pushed into a sitting position.

  “You don’t have to see me out. I know the way.” Better he didn’t. I didn’t want to prolong our contact.

  A frown tugged down the corners of his mouth. He fisted one of his hands in the apron but didn’t move. His voice was cordial but strained when he said, “Would you like my carriage?”

  “No. I can take care of myself. I’ve always taken care of myself.” I edged toward the kitchen door.

  His frown deepened. “I’ve never questioned that. I’ve always admired your strength and independence. You aren’t like any other woman.
”

  No. Some might say I was nothing like other women. I didn’t say a word to the contrary but hugged my middle.

  He looked almost lost as he added, “Goodbye.”

  I clamped my lips together but couldn’t contain in the words gathering on the tip of my tongue. They tumbled from my mouth in a rush, a flood.

  “I’m sorry. All those years ago when you told me you were leaving for Oxford? I said such terrible things. I didn’t mean any of them and…I’m sorry. It seems so silly now, but I never apologized and I should have.”

  A door slammed shut on his expression. He might as well have been carved from stone. After a so long a while I feared I’d petrified him in that position, he forced out two words. “It’s forgotten.” His voice was just as flat as his expression.

  I turned on my heel and fled his presence before the silence stretched so thin, it broke. I escaped out the back gate, unwilling to face the watchful gazes of the Sutton staff. As I left, I recalled that I hadn’t mentioned our impending wedding. I would have to return. Now wasn’t the time, given Edwin’s change in mood.

  He had said my transgression was forgotten. Not forgiven.

  Chapter Nine

  Not a breath stirred in the Sutton house as I let myself in through the front door, odd considering I’d sent a letter ahead of my arrival to let Edwin know to expect me. It had taken the better part of two days, but I was ready to face him again. In part, because with eight days remaining on our contract, I had no choice. We had to fix this catastrophe of our impending marriage and Edwin refused to answer my letters. I started to wonder if perhaps they weren’t reaching him.

  Isaac was nowhere to be found this morning, but he’d helpfully left the door unlocked. Where was everybody? I crept into the house, searching each sitting room in turn. Empty, as were the informal and formal dining rooms. When I reached the kitchen, I found the first signs of life. The kitchen staff, reduced to two, slowly went about their duties.

  I cleared my throat. “What’s going on?”

  The nearest young woman, so thin she seemed to be skin stretched over a skeleton, reared up her head. She had a hawkish nose and cheekbones that looked sharp enough to cut bread.