After binding, icing, and elevating Miss Bennet’s ankle on a pile of pillows, Theo went into the library, sat at his desk, and took out a sheet of paper. Just as he began to write, a knock sounded softly upon the half-open door. Turning, he saw one of his footmen—a gangling, dark-haired lad named Watson standing in the doorway.
“Mr. Murphy sent me, sir.”
“Do you know the way to Craven Castle?”
“Yes, sir. I do.”
“Excellent. In a moment, I will give you a note to take to the lady of the manor.”
“Very good, sir. Shall I wait?”
“Do.”
While the servant stood by, Theo finished and blotted the note before giving it to him with instructions to wait for Lady Bennet’s reply. He then gave the lad the best directions he could offer for the field where he would find Miss Bennet’s horse.
After the footman departed, Theo paced the floor, wrestling with his conflicted feelings. A small part of him hoped Lady Bennet would invent some excuse not to send the carriage, but the larger part—the distrustful, self-protective part—wanted Miss Bennet out of his house as soon as possible. If she stayed, he might become entangled—or, more accurately, further entangled. For he could not deny feeling a spark between them last evening at the ball, and again today while bringing her here on his horse.
To quiet his mind, he poured himself a snifter of brandy and moved to the fireplace. For a long while, he stood gazing into the dancing amber flames, trying to work out what it was about Miss Bennet that had captured his interest. Did her inexplicable allure owe to her beauty, her boldness, or her pedigree?
In truth, he was attracted to all three qualities—as well as her obvious interest in him. But was her attraction genuine or merely a contrivance to draw him in? While he wanted to believe Miss Bennet was nothing like Miss Cuthbertson or Edwina—or the numerous other fortune-hunters who had tried to turn his head with their flutterings and flattery—only a fool would trust her motives after so brief an acquaintance.
Aware all at once of his thoughts, he shook his head to dispel them. To be entertaining such notions was dangerous. Yes, he found Miss Bennet beautiful and diverting, but he must be on his guard. A pretty face, like a siren’s song, could bewitch a man only to smash his hopes against the hard shell of a mercenary heart.
Hoofbeats on the gravel drive broke in on his meditations. Leaving the library, he limped across the entry hall and opened the front door. There, in the drive, was Watson astride a horse from his stables.
Theo, tied in knots, lumbered out to the lad. “What did she say?”
“She refused to send her carriage, sir, blaming a loose wheel. Her husband, apparently, took the only other with him to London.”
I’d be willing to wager a tidy sum there are a few mothers in Much Wenlock—one or two at least—who are conspiring at this very moment to have you as a husband for one of their marriageable daughters.
Theo gritted his teeth. Did Lady Bennet really think he would not see through her ploy? Clearly, she was one of the conspiring mothers Winnie had warned him about. He must, therefore, be extremely careful where Miss Bennet was concerned, starting with giving her as wide a berth as possible.
After dismissing the footman, Theo went back inside the house to share the news with the ladies. As he approached the parlor, he could hear the two of them chattering away like old friends. When he entered the room, they abruptly ceased conversing. Suspicion tightened his chest. What were they discussing they did not wish for him to hear?
Winnie was the first to speak. “What news from Craven Castle, brother?”
The ladies had been sharing a pot of tea and an iced lemon cake. Nodding toward the tray, he asked, “May I join you?—or is this party strictly for hens?”
“Of course you may join us,” said Miss Bennet with a genial smile he no longer trusted.
As he poured himself a cup of tea, he asked, “How is the ankle?”
“It still hurts, though not to an intolerable degree.”
He hobbled to the chair by the fire and, with no small effort, lowered himself onto the cushion. When he was settled, he looked everywhere but at Miss Bennet, difficult though it was to fight her magnetic pull on his gaze.
“You have not yet answered my question,” Winnie said in a tone of impatience. “What did Lady Bennet say in response to your note?”
He sipped his tea and licked his lips. “It seems their only available carriage is in disrepair, leaving Miss Bennet no means to get home at present. Fortunately, we have room and servants enough to see to her needs without disrupting our routine overmuch.” Flicking a glance at Miss Bennet, he added, “And with you now as lame as myself, I have no cause to worry about those dancing lessons with which you threatened me last night.”
“I meant no harm,” she said, clearly nettled. “I only wanted to help you find more enjoyment in life.”
“I have enjoyment in aplenty.”
He felt her gaze on him as she replied, “Why do I not believe that?”
“Probably because it is a bald-faced lie,” Winnie added pugnaciously.
He shot his sister a disparaging glare before turning back to Miss Bennet. “I shall have a room made up for you as soon as I finish my tea.”
“Put her in the room adjoining mine,” Winnie suggested. “That way, I can be at her disposal.”
He did not favor the idea of his sister being saddled with the care of Miss Bennet for two reasons. The first was that it cast her in a subservient role to Miss Bennet and thereby decreased her social equality. The second was that looking after him when he returned from Trafalgar had been burden enough for Winnie to bear.
“You needn’t feel responsible for her, dearest,” he told his sister. “If need be, I shall employ a nurse.”
Winnie looked equal parts astonished and aghast. “Certainly there is no call for that.”
“No, indeed,” Miss Bennet softly put in. “I promise to give you as little trouble as possible.”
He was skeptical of her assurances. How could he be otherwise when just having her here—looking so charming despite her rumpled clothes and tousled hair—tempted him to throw caution to the wind? If she only knew how much he longed to run his fingers through her silken tresses, to taste the nectar of her lips, and to feel the velvet softness of her skin against his…
Gad! If he continued thinking such thoughts he would never escape her web. And then, he would be trapped like a helpless fly with no hope of escape.
Setting down his cup with a clink, he struggled to his feet and said, “If you ladies will excuse me, I have business that cannot wait.”
Winnie eyed him incredulously. “What sort of business?”
“The sort that keeps a roof over your head, sister dear,” he reposted before making his exit.
* * * *
For the next three days, Louisa missed having Pride and Prejudice to fill her idle hours almost as much as she missed the Captain’s company. For reasons she could not comprehend, he had gone out of his way to avoid her, thereby spoiling her plans to encourage his affections while under his care.
His sister, conversely, rarely left Louisa’s bedside, leaving little time to reflect upon an alternate course to achieve her aims. Just now, they were playing cribbage atop a footed bed tray. Louisa was the pone this time and had just finished pegging her points.
While dealing the next hand, Miss Raynalds said, “He fancies you, you know.”
Louisa, knowing she meant her brother, felt a rush of renewed hope. “If that is so, then why has he not come to see me?”
“He avoids you precisely because he likes you.”
Louisa knitted her brow. “That makes no sense.”
“It does if you know what he’s been through.”
“I would like very much to know,” Louisa told her, “if you are of a mind to tell me.”
Miss Raynalds looked at Louisa over her fan of cards. “He loved a girl once who broke his heart…along with their engagement. And now he is convinced all women are as fickle and judgmental as she was.”
“But that is a ridiculous belief.”
“I know.” Miss Raynalds sighed. “And nothing I can say seems to assuage his belief that having lost a leg somehow makes him undesirable to those of our sex.”
It pained Louisa to hear the Captain felt that way, for she found him incredibly desirable. “Try telling him it is the quality of his heart that makes him attractive, not how many legs he has or has not.”
“I shall.” Miss Raynalds’s blue eyes brightened. “And thank you for that.”
Louisa picked up her cards and studied them a long moment before saying, “Will you grant me leave to ask another question about your brother?”
“I grant you leave to ask any manner of question.”
Louisa met her gaze across the bed. “Have you ever seen his…stump?”
“I have,” Miss Raynalds answered with commendable candor, “though not since the sutures healed.”
Fighting the morbid curiosity goading her to ask for a description, Louisa chose another line of questioning. “Did his betrothed see it before they parted ways?”
“I cannot imagine how she could have, considering she broke with him the first time she saw him after he returned from Trafalgar.”
“How heartless.” Though no stranger to cruelty, Louisa never ceased to be amazed by the level of meanness to which some people would stoop.
“I agree. But that is not even the worst of it.”
“What could be worse than breaking a man’s heart when he has just returned home after losing his leg?”
“It was all a lie to hide her betrayal,” Miss Raynalds revealed. “While my brother was away, she took up with another fellow, whom she later married.”
Louisa’s mouth fell open. That any woman would give up Capt. Raynalds, who was so admirable in so many ways, seemed inconceivable to her. As far as she was concerned, his great sacrifice for the good of Great Britain made him a better man, not a lesser one.
“Does your brother know this?”
“As far as I am aware, he does not.” Miss Raynalds laid out the crib as she spoke. “I kept it from him because I could not see how adding treachery to cruelty could in any way restore his peace of mind.”
Louisa’s thoughts raced as she blindly studied the four face-up cards. “On the contrary, I have every confidence it would be extremely helpful.”
The girl’s pale eyebrows shot up. “Do you indeed?”
“Most definitely,” Louisa replied. “For I believe knowing her rejection owed to more than his leg might help him open his heart again.”
“If you ask me,” said his sister with a smile, “you are doing an excellent job of that all on your own.”
Louisa, praying Miss Raynalds was right, took up the Cavalier of Diamonds and added the card to her hand. “Am I?”
“I believe so, but you will have to prove yourself trustworthy before he lets down his guard.”
Guilt tightened Louisa’s chest. How would he ever come to trust her if he learned of her plans? Not that she was acting a part to him. On the contrary, she favored him much more than was prudent after so brief an acquaintance. Moreover, her goal was to fall in love with him, not to trap him into marriage by feigning regard she did not feel.
His avoidance of her, however, was helping neither of them put their faith in the other. Scowling in frustration, Louisa asked, “How am I supposed to do that if he will not have anything to do with me?”
Miss Raynalds gave her a sympathetic smile. “Give him time, Miss Bennet, and he will come around. I am almost certain he will.”
Louisa bit her lip and discarded the Nine of Clubs. “I only wish I had the time to spare.”
Miss Raynalds looked at her, eyebrows raised. “Do you not?”
“My father has arranged for me to marry his heir before I reach the age of consent,” Louisa explained.
The girl frowned at her. “Wait a minute. If your father has engaged you to his heir, why did your mother maroon you here with my brother?”
“Because my mother wants me to be happy, while my father only wants to use me to keep his estate in the immediate family.” Louisa immediately regretted her frankness and prayed Miss Raynalds would not pursue the subject.
“And what makes your mother think you would be happier with Theo than the man your father wants you to marry?”
A blush warmed Louisa’s face. “Because she knows how much I dislike my cousin.”
Miss Raynalds searched her eyes. “Tell me the truth, Miss Bennet. Are you hoping my brother will marry you first and save you from your fate?”
The bluntness of her question took Louisa aback. “It is a bit early to speak of marriage, is it not? I hardly know your brother and have no hope of knowing him better if he is resolved to avoid all contact with me.”
“I will work on him…for both your sakes,” Miss Raynalds promised. “But only if you swear to me on all you hold dear that your admiration for him is genuine.”
“I give you my word, Miss Raynalds. I have every intention of falling in love with him.”
“And to make him fall in love with you in return, I hope.”
“Of course. For I cannot imagine any hell worse than loving a man who does not love me back.”
“Nor can I, Miss Bennet. Nor can I.”
They resumed playing Cribbage, saying nothing more of the Captain. When the game was over, Miss Raynalds collected the cards and rose from her seat on the bed. “I will leave you now so you can get some much-needed rest.”
After the Captain’s sister quit the room, Louisa took her advice and dozed until a knock on her bedchamber door brought her back to herself. Just as she opened her mouth to ask who was there, Capt. Raynalds called through the door, “Miss Bennet, may I have a word?”
She hesitated before answering. As desperately as she wanted to see him and hear what he came to say, her sense of propriety told her to refuse him entry. Entertaining a gentleman in her bedchamber was shockingly improper. Under the circumstances, however, she could not bring herself to send him away.
Pulling the bedclothes to her chin to cover the sheer nightgown his sister had loaned her, she said, “Yes, Captain. You may enter.”
He opened the door and, with the aid of his cane, limped to the bedside and looked down at her, his expression inexplicably stern. “Does my sister speak the truth?”
The question at once shocked Louisa’s heart and aroused her fury. She could not decide which she would rather do, curl up and die or strangle his sister with her bare hands. How could she have betrayed her confidence by telling her brother her plans?—if, indeed, that was what she had disclosed. Perhaps it was not, in which case, she would be wise to tread carefully to avoid betraying her own secrets (and his trust in the process).
She blinked under his probing stare. “How can I answer that when I have no idea what she might have told you?”
“She told me your father intends to marry you off to a man you despise.”
He looked very unhappy, which pleased her immeasurably. “Yes, that is true. He wants me to marry the cousin to whom his estate is entailed—to ensure my mother and sisters will have somewhere to live after he departs this world.”
The Captain, hands stacked atop his cane, shifted his stance uneasily. “I can understand his motives—he is only doing what he believes best for his family, one can only presume—but I cannot agree with his forcing you to marry a man you abhor. Does he know how much you loathe your cousin?”
“He does.”
“And he insists upon you marrying this man in spite of your feelings?”
“My feelings are of little consequence to my father, I assure you.”
He scrubbed a hand down his face. “Surely there must be some way around marrying this person.”
Did she dare share her idea? No, she mustn’t. If she did, he would never come to trust her. “There is not, short of running away and living as a gypsy.”
He stood there a long time, as if fighting an inner battle. At length, he said, “There is one way I can think of…but I fear I am not the man for the job.”
Louisa’s heart wilted. “You are right. We are strangers. So why should you care what becomes of me?”
Softening in demeanor, he came closer and sat beside her on the bed. “I do care what becomes of you, Miss Bennet—beyond what I am willing to admit—but my heart is not quite invested enough to put a ring on your finger. Neither is my trust. And now, in addition to my standard reservations, I suspect you mean to use me to avoid marrying this cousin of yours.”
“That is untrue!” She looked away so he would not see the desperation in her eyes. “Well, it might be partially true…but I shall endeavor to fall in love with you as soon as I’m able.”
He smiled at her sympathetically. “Forgive me. I by no means wish you unhappy. Truly, I do not. But neither can I consent to binding myself to a woman on the off-chance she will fall in love with me.”
“So, you refuse to help me?”
Turning away from her, he said, with an indignant edge to his voice, “That is supremely unfair, Miss Bennet. Have I not helped you already? Did I not come to your aid when you fell off your horse? Did I not take you in when your own mother left you to my care? Have I not kept my distance to protect you from scandal and ruin?”
The last bit astonished her. Did he really fear what might happen if they were alone together? If that were indeed the case, she might exploit his passions to aid her cause. Much as she hated to resort to such deceitful measures, she could see no other way to escape her marriage to Charles. And it would not be entirely an act; for just now, with him sitting so near, so dangerously near, she wanted nothing more than to be in his arms.
“What if I want you to ruin me?”
“For the love of God.” He sprang off the bed and glared at her reprovingly. “You cannot make such provocative statements to a man in a position to take advantage of you. I might be a cripple, but I still feel desire, Miss Bennet.” Looking tortured, he added, his voice more restrained, “If you had the least idea how difficult I find it to resist your charms, you would not entice me so cruelly to abandon my principles and good sense.”
Shame heated her face. “I did not mean to be cruel.”
His face reddened and his eyes narrowed to slits. “What if I am not the gentleman you suppose me to be? What if I took advantage and then left you ruined—and very possibly with child? How would that help your situation? Do not think it does not happen, Miss Bennet. For it happens to young women like yourself more often than you might wish to believe.”
He was right, of course. For had not Mr. Willoughby done as much to Col. Brandon’s ward in Sense and Sensibility? Still, she could not believe the Captain—her reluctant white knight—was as unprincipled as other men—or half as heartless as her father and Charles. For his avoidance of her until now and his present refusal to ravish her were proof enough of his decency.
“Your resistance does you credit, Captain,” she said stiffly, “and makes me ashamed of my own behavior. I fear I have lost your good opinion, perhaps forever.”
“Have no fear on that score, Miss Bennet. For I think as well of you as when I entered the room. I also see the position you are in and how desperately you wish to escape it. You are like an animal caught in a trap who would chew off her own leg to win her freedom.”
“You are right,” she said sullenly. “That is exactly how I feel, though I would not equate going to bed with you with gnawing off a limb.”
He laughed. “I am exceedingly relieved to hear it.”
She pulled up her legs, wrapped her arms around her shins, and set her chin atop her knees. From this posture, she regarded him contemplatively. Her attraction to him was genuine, even if her motives were less than honorable. “I cannot imagine any woman in her right mind finding you undesirable.”
“You flatter me. For I assure you, the reverse is the case.”
“Are you speaking now of your former fiancée?”
He visibly stiffened. “It is possible that I am.”
“Well, in my opinion, she did you a good turn by giving you up.”
With a scoff, he lifted his gaze to meet hers. “You call breaking my heart a good turn?”
“I do,” she said, “because you deserve better than a lady who would abandon you in your hour of need…or make shockingly unfeeling remarks to a man who’s sustained an injury as grievous as yours.”
Rather than pleased, he looked annoyed. “What else has my sister told you about me?”
“Only enough to convince me that foolish tart did not deserve you.”
Light—nay, fire—vivified his eyes. “You do not find me repulsive, then?”
She blushed and looked down at the bedclothes. “How can you ask me such a question? Did I not just invite you into my bed?”
“You did, Madam,” he said with all the stiff formality of an officer, “though without having seen my scars.”
She lifted her gaze to his, seeing for the first time the frightened boy behind the hard screens covering his eyes. “I have seen some of your scars already, Captain, and only like you the more for them.”