Chapter Eight
Adam couldn’t allow her to make more of their relationship than it was, than it could be. He paused before they reached the terrace, pulling her to one side, well within the lantern light. “You’ve obviously come to understand I have reason to spend so much time observing Mr. Tilney’s activity. Since I’ve pulled you into the scheme, you deserve to know the truth, or as much as I’m free to tell you. This cannot be spoken of to anyone, not even Miss Harrow.”
Miss Watson nodded, nibbling her lower lip. She looked so innocent, and he longed to kiss her again, but he restrained himself.
“Mr. Tilney is responsible for the death of my uncle.”
She frowned, tilting her head. “Then why not have him arrested? Why have you just been following him?”
“There’s more to the story, but I can’t say more without putting you in danger.” She was already in danger, if the wrong people had seen them together.
Her hesitant smile showed she didn’t believe him.
“I’m serious, Miss Watson.”
“Please, call me Mary Jane. You know me well enough, and I won’t take it to be a proposal.”
She was certainly a minx, he thought yet again. “You’re familiar to Mr. Tilney, so I’m not afraid of him seeing you, but if he recognizes me, there will be trouble.”
“Why can’t he be arrested?”
“He’s part of a scheme. He didn’t kill my uncle himself, he ordered someone else to do so.”
“How awful.” She placed the palm of her gloved hand on his cheek and he leaned into the warmth. “I won’t press you for more details. I understand now. Promise me you’ll be careful. I couldn’t bear hearing you’ve died.”
Her words tugged at his heart and made it even more difficult not to kiss her again.
“What can I do for you?” she asked.
“I can’t ask you to continue to be at my side. You must find a husband.”
Even in the dim light, he saw the sadness wash over her, and it broke his heart. He wished it was in his power to give her everything she wanted, but that was impossible. But he understood her feelings toward him.
Clutching her hand to his heart, he confessed, “I feel the same way. We would be good for each other, wouldn’t we?”
“Aren’t we?” she countered. She held his gaze without saying more, forcing him to think.
They were very good. She wasn’t demanding, and she loved adventure as much as he. She didn’t read his actions to be something they weren’t.
Yet she saw through his arguments to know how much he cared for her.
“I can’t make you wait for me. Your father won’t wait. Tomorrow I must leave for Dover on similar business. I can’t be certain of my safety. When I return, if others haven’t gathered the proof we need, I’ll continue to pursue Boi—Mr. Tilney.”
“Tilney isn’t his real name,” she said, catching his slip.
“You must forget anything I’ve said about him, except that he’s dangerous. This isn’t a game, Mary Jane. I know you understand.”
“I do. But Lord Adam, my father hasn’t given me a specific date to marry…”
“Don’t wait on my return. I want you to marry happily, not mourning me.” Their conversation suddenly struck him as funny. “Here we speak of marriage to each other as if it’s all I can think of, yet I haven’t proposed. Do all men turn to clay in your hands?”
“They usually turn to thoroughbreds and race away. I frighten any reasonable man.”
He nodded, barely keeping a straight face. “If I were reasonable, I’d let someone else deal with Tilney. But I’m not. I’m angry, I’m determined, and unrelenting. I won’t make a good husband until this is done.”
“I can wait. We’ll tell Father we want to marry in the fall, or next spring, which would give you plenty of time—”
“My uncle spent five years chasing these men before he was killed last year.”
“I see.” Her gaze dropped to her hand, still pressed against his heart. He dropped it, stepping back.
“Let’s go inside. The night is growing cool.” His feet had never felt as heavy as those steps he took to the French doors into the ballroom. He didn’t want this to be the last time he saw her.
Mrs. Watson also hoped it wasn’t the last time. “There you are,” she said when they approached. Her silver turban sported a white peacock feather that danced each time she moved her head. She was a slender woman, still pretty, probably in her early forties. Her eyes were gentle, belying her stern brow.
“I’ve returned your daughter safe and sound.” He gently removed Mary Jane’s hand from his arm.
“You were gone an exceedingly long time.”
“Forgive me. On occasion, I have spells where I can’t catch my breath, and Miss Watson was kind enough to stay with me until it passed.”
“She is such a good girl.” Her tone hinted she was thinking something quite the opposite. Not that she suspected Mary Jane of acting unladylike, but that she’d failed to secure an offer from him.
Refusing to let him get away, she said, “Mr. Watson and I would be happy to have you join us for dinner tomorrow, if you’re free.”
Adam smiled in relief at having a legitimate excuse to avoid entrapment. “As it happens, I’m expected at my brother’s home tomorrow. He’s hosting a ball to celebrate our cousin’s birthday.”
“Why, we received an invitation to the duke’s ball. And you did, too, Mrs. Harrow, am I not correct?”
“Yes, Charlotte is looking forward to it.” Mrs. Harrow was rounder, her expression much less like a huntress.
“Of course,” Miss Harrow said, looking as though she’d been forced to eat cow’s tongue.
“Delightful.” He was trapped. “I shall see you all there.”
Bowing his head, he took his leave as quickly as possible.
~~~
Mary Jane sat on her bed while Charlotte pulled gown after gown from her clothespress. “I don’t see why you bother. There isn’t a gown in there that will make Lord Adam decide to marry me.”
Charlotte stopped, dropping the garment in her hands. “Has he said so.”
Turning away, Mary Jane mumbled, “Not exactly.” She couldn’t tell the whole truth without breaking her word to Lord Adam.
Rounding the bed, Charlotte sat and turned Mary Jane’s face to look her in the eye. “What, exactly, did he say?”
“Oh, you know men. He must travel soon. He’ll be gone a long time.”
“You discussed marriage. Specifically, not in general conversation.”
Mary Jane rolled away, hiding her face. “He knows why I’ve not been out in Society.”
“He knows your father’s ultimatum.”
She said nothing.
Rising, Charlotte paced the floor. “If he’s willing to speak of marriage, he can be convinced to marry you. Wait, you didn’t propose to him, did you? Or ask him to?”
“No, it was nothing like that. We speak plainly to one another, though, so when he commented on my absence, I hinted at Father’s orders.”
Mary Jane ran to her friend and clutched her hands. “Oh, Charlotte, he feels the same way about me as I do, him. We would do well together, be so happy, but he has to be chivalrous and not speak of an engagement until he is free to do so.”
“What do you mean? Why isn’t he free? Is there another engagement he must break?”
Realizing how close she’d come to revealing the truth, Mary Jane scrambled for an explanation. “No. It’s—it’s a promise he made to his deceased uncle. There are matters he must see to before he’s free to look to his own life.”
“But why can’t he explain to your father that he loves you and you’ll be married in the future?”
Mary Jane ducked her head between her arms, pressing tightly to make her frustration vanish. It didn’t help. “Father wouldn’t believe it. Isn’t this ironic? I find a man who wants to marry me—wants to—and my father would presume it’s a lie, the engagement would be broken in a few months and I’d be free of his threats.”
“Talk to him tonight. If you haven’t scared him away by now, he must truly care for you.”
Mary Jane laughed. “Isn’t that a sad truth? He appreciates in me the same qualities that other men run from. I must have him.”