Chapter 5

The snow had stopped and Frank took the opportunity to escape the house before Lord Dunstan met with his wife and daughter to explain the situation. He knew the women would be upset when they found out Lord Dunstan had received threatening letters. There was no doubt that they’d do everything they could to help him discover who’d sent the letters. If hosting a ball would be of some use, Frank knew they’d be eager to put on the most lavish ball conceivable. What he didn’t like was using Tillie in the plan.

Frank followed the path that led him to the summerhouse. It was the perfect place to be alone. To think.

He sat on one of the cushioned benches and leaned back against the wall, eyes closed to clear his head. It surprised him that the most stubborn image, the one that steadfastly refused to leave the forefront of his thoughts, was Tillie. Lovely Tillie, with hair spun in perfect colors so that it danced enticingly in the candlelight. Sunny Tillie, with lips that curved into a smile at the least provocation. Tender Tillie, whose arms encompassed him so fiercely he no longer felt alone in the world.

Remarkably, he felt as if he’d known Tillie forever. Felt that she’d been waiting in the shadows for him to arrive, and when he finally came, she stepped out into the daylight to meet him. And she brought the sunshine with her.

He turned his head to the manor house, and as if she somehow knew he needed her, he saw her walking down the path toward him.

“I thought I’d find you here,” she said when she stepped through the door he held open for her.

“Did your father explain our plan?” he asked when they were seated.

“Yes. He did.” Her gaze lowered to her lap. “Was it George’s idea to host an engagement ball?”

“Yes.”

“I thought as much.” She lifted her head until her gaze locked with his. “I’m sorry, Frank. I’m sure with a little thought, we can come up with another reason to hold a ball on such short notice, if you think Twelvetide alone isn’t convincing enough.”

Frank smiled. “Do you find it so distasteful to let people think we’re a couple?”

“Of course not. But I’m sure you—”

Before he could check his words, Frank’s unguarded response spilled from his lips.

“I don’t at all. The plan is solid. It will raise few questions.”

She lifted her gaze and studied him. “As long as you understand that no one is hinting at anything serious.”

Frank couldn’t help but chuckle, though he marveled at how easily the laughter had come. “I understand.”

“Good.”

Frank watched Tillie’s shoulders relax as a sigh of relief left her body. “May I ask you something personal, Tillie?”

She turned to face him. “Of course.”

“Why haven’t you married? I can’t fathom you haven’t been asked.”

Frank was afraid she might be offended at his question, but from the shy smile that lifted the corners of her mouth, he could see that she wasn’t.

“I’m sure many would find fault with my reasoning, but I haven’t met the right man yet. Yes, I’ve been asked, but I didn’t love any of the men who asked me.”

“Is love a prerequisite to marriage?”

“It is for me.”

“I’m sure you know many couples in London Society who married for reasons other than love.”

“Yes, and I’m also aware of their daily unhappiness. Marrying someone you can never love makes for a very long and often very sad life.”

“I suppose it does,” he mused.

“Thankfully, Father is in full agreement. He claims he fell in love with Mother the moment he saw her. He says he wouldn’t want it any other way for his children.”

“Do you believe it’s possible to fall in love so quickly?”

She slowly lowered her gaze to her lap. “I do. I’ve always known if I met the right man I’d sense it immediately.” She lifted her head. “Does that sound foolish?”

“Not at all,” he answered. “I knew the first time I met Amelia that I could love her. And I did. The more we got to know each other, the more in love we grew.”

Frank fell quiet. He’d just spoken her name, and the dark wall hadn’t descended and the horrible pain hadn’t gripped his heart. Amelia. His love, his dear one. She would always be his first love. Nothing could change that. But now he could speak of loving her and the sky didn’t fall. He could utter her name with joy and his heart didn’t split in two.

Tillie had done that. He turned toward her in wonder. Her voice came to him, sweet and strong, riding on a wave of compassion.

“I’m terribly sorry you lost her. I can’t imagine how difficult it must be to lose someone you love so deeply.”

Frank recalled those dark days from the distance time had won him. Days when he didn’t want to live. Days when dying seemed a better alternative than facing another hour without his wife and children. “When I first lost my family, I didn’t think I would survive.”

Her breathing stilled.

“But you did.”

“Yes, I did. I am. I am surviving. Thanks in large part to your uncle. He took me in after the house burned, and refused to let me leave. He also forced me to face each new day even when I didn’t want to.”

“He’s a very special man. Mother says he’s capable of working miracles, which is why she wrote him when we realized something was bothering Father.”

Frank considered Tillie’s words. Miracles. Yes, that’s what Lord Beckett was capable of working. His gift was mystical, indeed.

Frank turned his gaze to focus on the beautiful young woman beside him. Even in this, Lord Beckett had worked a miracle. He’d shown Frank it was possible to survive Christmas without drinking until he was no longer sensible. He’d shown Frank that life was possible after he’d lost everyone he’d loved. And bringing him here had brought him back to the living.

“What is your plan once our guests are here for the ball?” she asked.

“It will have to begin with a truce, then gentlemanly dialogue. They’ll have to put all their cards on the table, so to speak. I’ve seen it work many times before.”

“Then let’s hope this is one of those times.”

“Yes, let’s hope,” Frank said, letting his gaze rest on Tillie’s face. Her nose had turned red and he realized she must be chilled to the bone. “Do you want to return to the house?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Not yet.”

“Good,” Frank answered. “Neither do I.” He looked into her eyes, upturned to his. Open, honest, giving. They warmed him, stirred him, drew him toward a future he’d all but given up on.

There was nothing for it but to lower his head and kiss her.

He kissed her softly at first, then deepened his ardor. She answered his requests as enthusiastically as she had the night he’d first kissed her.

Her arms wrapped around his neck and she clung to him.

Frank drew her as near as he could with cloaks and gloves and hats hindering their closeness. He kissed her again and again until he felt as if they were breathing as one. She moaned when his tongue explored her mouth, but she accepted his intrusion as if she were as desperate for his touch as he was for hers.

When his breathing approached a ragged edge, he lifted his mouth from hers. He didn’t release her. He couldn’t release her. So he lowered his head until his forehead touched hers.

“You are so very special, Miss Rowley. More special than anyone I’ve met in an exceedingly long time.”

“As are you, Frank Collyard. But what I’m feeling frightens me a little.”

“I know,” he answered.

“Perhaps we should… slow down,” she whispered.

“Yes, that would be wise.”

She lowered her gaze to her hands, and Frank realized that she was nervous. He placed his hand over hers and twined his fingers with hers.

She smiled and looked up at him. “I feel as if we’ve known each other more than just a few short days. And I feel as if we could become very dear friends.”

“Do you find that disagreeable?” he asked.

“No,” she answered quickly. “I consider that very… agreeable.”

Frank smiled. “I feel as if there’s more. You consider it very agreeable but…?”

“But,” she answered, “I just want you to know that I don’t expect anything to come of our friendship.”

Frank felt an unexpected knot rise in his chest.

“You don’t expect anything to come of it? Or you don’t want anything to come of it?”

“Oh, I’m making a horrible mess of this.” She rose to her feet and walked away from him. “What I mean is that I don’t want you to feel that anything is expected of you simply because the people attending our ball will think there might be something between us.”

“In other words, you’re saying that you don’t expect me to offer for you just because I enjoy kissing you. And because you enjoy kissing me. Or because your parents are hosting a ball to announce our engagement.”

She turned, clearly flustered.

“Father isn’t really going to announce our engagement. We’re just going to pretend that we’ve grown fond of each other and perhaps in the future we may announce our betrothal.”

“I see,” Frank said, trying to hide the smile that threatened to lift the corners of his mouth. “That may be a problem, then.”

“Why?” She lifted her gaze and stared at him with the most bewildered expression.

“Because I’m afraid I’ve already grown quite fond of you. Quite fond indeed.”

“Oh!” she gasped.

And he lowered his head and kissed her again.