Russ kept smiling as Gerald brought Molly over to him. His jaw tightened as he watched them talking together, Gerald leaning in a little closer and giving her hand a comforting pat. Something very like jealousy ripped through him. He was too experienced to let it show, however. He greeted their arrival with all his usual urbanity and this time Molly accepted his invitation to dance.
‘Here she is, then,’ declared Gerald, ‘but ’tis with reluctance that I relinquish my fair partner to you, Russ. Look after her!’
He lounged away and Russ led Molly off to take their places in the next set.
‘I feared I should not be able to dance with you tonight, madam.’
‘Then you should have come in earlier.’ She added, ‘There are any number of ladies without partners tonight, so I hope you have not been standing at the side, watching me.’
‘By no means. I have danced with Agnes and Mrs Sykes. And Lady Currick’s daughter, Helen.’
‘How delightful for them and it is especially useful for Nell,’ she told him. ‘She needs a little practice at dealing with roués before her come-out.’
She met his frowning glance with a look of pure innocence. Nettled, he changed the subject.
‘I have the strangest feeling you have been avoiding me, Mrs Morgan.’
‘Now, why should I do that, Mr Russington?’
‘Something to do with our last meeting perhaps.’
She laughed. ‘That would be a sad recompense for your rescuing me that night.’
‘But you have already rewarded me for that service,’ he reminded her. She blushed adorably at that and he glanced about to make sure they could not be overheard before he continued. ‘At the time you appeared angry that I did not want more than that one kiss.’
Her eyes widened. ‘You said you did not wish to ruin me. Why should I be angry about that?’
They were silent as they performed their part in the dance, stepping up and away, gracefully circling as they progressed through the set.
‘Perhaps you wanted me to ruin you,’ he murmured, when at last they came back together.
To his surprise, she did not react angrily to his suggestion. Perfectly calm, she appeared to consider it while they waited for their next turn.
‘I should be very foolish to want that, Mr Russington.’ They were moving again and as she put her hand into his, she added softly, ‘So much better to meet you on occasions like this, when I can enjoy your considerable charms without the least danger of yielding to them.’
By heaven, she had learned the art of dalliance very quickly! Russ was glad when the dance parted them again, relieved to have some time to think about this new Molly Morgan. It was not only her clothes that had changed, but her whole demeanour. He had seen signs of it occasionally in the past, when she had been at her most relaxed, but this evening was different. She was positively goading him.
And he was enjoying it.
Russ had to stifle a laugh. She had acknowledged the attraction between them, agreed nothing could come of it, but instead of keeping her distance she was determined to meet him head on. A dangerous policy, but he was more than willing to oblige her. After all, as she said, they were safe enough in company.
* * *
No danger?
Molly might be able to deceive everyone else this evening, but she could not lie to herself. Every smile, every word she shared with Russ was intoxicating, but all the time she had to keep reminding herself that it was not real. The banter, the coy looks, the teasing smiles were all part of a game and she was playing it with a master. He knew to a nicety how to engage with her, when to challenge, when to tease or praise her and Molly was pleased to discover that she could hold her own with him.
She allowed Russ to take her into supper, but insisted they sit with their hosts. Edwin was already at the table, deep in conversation with Agnes, and since Gerald soon went off to talk to his guests, any hope Molly had entertained of being spared the full force of Russ’s attraction was dashed.
He was the perfect companion, moving the candles so they did not glare in her eyes, selecting the choicest morsels for her plate and bringing the tray of sweetmeats within her reach. She was outwardly calm, but it was an effort with Russ sitting beside her, his sleeve brushing her arm, his thigh only inches away. When he beckoned a waiter to bring them more wine she covered her glass, knowing that she must keep her wits about her.
‘Lemonade, then,’ Russ suggested, nodding to the waiter to attend to it. ‘The evening is young yet, and you will need some refreshment.’ He leaned closer. ‘I am set upon a second dance with you tonight.’
Her hand hovered over the sweetmeat dish. ‘You may well be disappointed.’
‘Oh?’ She observed with satisfaction the way his hand tightened around his wine glass. ‘Are all the remaining dances taken?’
She picked out a small sugar bonbon. ‘And if I told you they were?’
‘I should be obliged to dispose of one of your partners.’
The quiet menace in his voice startled Molly and she dropped the sweetmeat.
‘It...it is as well then that that is not the case.’
His hold on the wine glass eased.
‘It is very well,’ he said, smiling at her. He picked up the bonbon and popped it into her mouth. ‘Very well indeed.’
* * *
Molly was aware that anyone watching them at supper could have been in no doubt that Russ was flirting with her and now they were standing up together for a boisterous country dance which demanded she hold his hands as they skipped and twirled about the room. After a good supper and a generous supply of wine, everyone was much more relaxed and the ballroom was full of laughter and chatter that all but drowned out the music. It was very hot, too, even though the long windows had been thrown wide. By the time the music ended, Molly knew that this second dance with Russ was a mistake. She had enjoyed it too much, the control she had kept over herself all evening had vanished and her wayward body wanted him as much as ever.
She was fully aware of the danger when she allowed him to escort her out on to the terrace and she offered no resistance as he gently pulled her into the deep shadows and kissed her. On the contrary, she clung to him, pressing her body against his as she returned the kiss with a passion she had not known she possessed. It frightened her, a little, but by the time they broke apart she had made her decision. She put a hand up to his face.
‘Russ, I want you to take me to your bed.’
* * *
Russ closed his eyes. How many times had he dreamed she would say those words to him? If she had done so when they first met he would have complied willingly, but not now. Now he cared too much for her. It would not just be her reputation that would be destroyed if he went further. She was not some rich society widow who could retire to her country estates for a few months until the scandal had died down. If Molly lost her good name, she would lose her standing in Compton Parva. She would no longer be able to help her brother or to promote the charitable causes so close to her heart, including Prospect House.
‘Molly, do not tempt me.’ His arms tightened around her. ‘You are a widow and I have awakened feelings that you thought long dead. You need a husband, Molly, a good man who will love you as you deserve.’
She drew in a long breath. ‘My body is crying out for you, Russ.’ She pushed herself away, trying to read his face in the shadows. ‘Do you deny that you want me?’
‘No, of course, I do not deny it.’ He looked up at the sky and sighed. ‘I have no constancy, Molly. I have had many mistresses, but my interest rarely lasts more than a month. Such fleeting lust would destroy you. You deserve a steady, faithful husband, not someone like me. You know what I am.’
‘Yes.’ She buried her face in his shoulder. ‘You are a rake. You have a reputation as a lover and...and I am ready to endure—’
‘What is this?’ He took her arms and held her away from him, frowning. ‘Endure? Molly, I am talking of pleasure, not pain.’
She averted her face and said quietly, ‘I believe men experience these things differently.’
‘You are wrong. The women I have taken to bed enjoyed it every bit as much as I.’
‘Perhaps I am made differently.’
He said savagely, ‘I do not believe that.’ He put one hand beneath her chin, compelling her to look up at him. ‘If you have not enjoyed lovemaking, then the man was at fault, Molly, not you.’
He felt a wave of anger growing against whoever it was who had hurt her so badly.
She sighed. ‘I thought you wanted me.’
‘I do.’ Russ closed his eyes. She must never know how much he wanted her! He said gently, ‘I do, Molly, but I would not take another man’s prize.’
‘Prize!’ With a cry she tore herself away from him. ‘I am no prize,’ she said bitterly. ‘I am just a...a thing, to be used and—and broken for a man’s pleasure.’
His anger boiled over into a red rage that manifested in a growl.
‘Aye, you told me! You were seduced by some blackguard who took your innocence and abandoned you—’
She had her back to him, but he saw her hand come up as if to silence him.
‘I was not talking of that,’ she whispered, dragging out her handkerchief to wipe her eyes. ‘It was far, far worse than that.’
Russ stopped himself from reaching out for her. He should say something soothing, let it pass. Tomorrow he could leave Compton Parva and go back to London, to his old, carefree life and she would remain only a faint, pleasant memory. But looking at the small, dejected figure in front of him, he knew it was already too late. He put his hands on her shoulders and guided her towards the far end of the terrace, away from the open windows.
‘Tell me,’ he said, sitting down on a stone bench and pulling her down beside him. ‘Tell me what happened.’
For a while there was only the muted sounds from the ballroom and the occasional call of a night bird to break the silence. Then he heard her sigh.
‘Niall was a rogue,’ she said slowly, dragging her handkerchief between her fingers. ‘A handsome, Irish rogue with a smooth tongue and a roving eye. I was seventeen and so in love that I desperately wanted to please him. I will not lie, I wanted it, too. I wanted to give myself to him, wholly. But when it happened it was rushed and painful and...disappointing. It was only the once, then he was gone, my Irish soldier. He left before he even knew he had got me with child.
‘My parents were horrified when they discovered my situation. They found me a husband, or more accurately, they bought me a husband. Morgan was a yeoman farmer, not a gentleman, but then, I suppose they were thankful to find anyone to marry me. I insisted Morgan should be told about the baby. He swore it would make no difference to the way he felt about me. That he loved me. Love!’ She shuddered. ‘I experienced no love at his hands. He t-took me for his pleasure. It was brutish and punishing. To him I was an undeserving slattern who should be grateful that he had married me and saved my good name. It was worse when he had been drinking, because if he could not... If he could not p-perform, he would beat me. I always tried to stay on my feet, because—’ her hands crept over her stomach and her voice was barely a thread ‘—it was a kick that killed the baby. My baby.’
Silently Russ took her in his arms, and she turned her face into his shoulder, weeping. There was nothing he could say to make it better, so he rested his cheek against her head and held her. At last the tears subsided. When she struggled to sit up he released her, but she did not object when he kept one arm about her shoulders. She wiped her eyes and began to speak again.
‘Morgan never knew what he had done. He died in a drunken brawl the night after that last beating. I was very near my time and everyone thought it was the shock of Morgan’s death that made the baby come early, but I knew the truth. I could not bear to go back to my parents, they had already made it clear they considered that losing the baby was a...a judgement upon me for my sins. As soon as I was well enough I sold the farm and came north to live with Edwin. I used Morgan’s money to set up Prospect House and tried to forget my old life. The bruises have healed, but I have never been able to throw off the repulsion of being married to such a man.’
She fell silent and he gave voice to the question that had been nagging at him.
‘And yet you offered yourself to me, to save your friend?’
She gave a little shrug. ‘Having endured a man’s attentions in bed before, I thought I could do so again, if I must.’ She hung her head. ‘I thought I could do so, if it was with you.’
With a sigh he pulled her into his arms. ‘How could you even think of making such a sacrifice?’
She turned her face into his chest, muffling her response. ‘I have made a mull of everything. I am such a fool.’
‘Yes, you are fool,’ he agreed, resting his cheek against her hair again. Even in the chill of an autumn evening she smelled of summer flowers. ‘But a very adorable one.’
‘It is kind of you to say so,’ she said. ‘And very generous, but I think I should go now.’
She pushed herself out of his arms, but he held on to her hand. ‘Are you engaged for any other dances this evening?’
‘No, but—’
‘Then come with me. By my reckoning we have at least two hours.’
‘For what?’
He smiled. ‘Come with me.’
He led her down the steps and around the house to a side door. It opened on to one of the servants’ halls and, as he had hoped, it was deserted. They climbed the stairs, guided by the lighted lanterns that hung at intervals from the bare walls. He uttered up a silent prayer when they reached his bedchamber without seeing anyone. Once they were inside he turned the key in the lock. Molly’s fingers tightened nervously around his.
‘My man is the soul of discretion,’ he explained, ‘but I do not want anyone to disturb us.’
He took a taper to the small fire burning in the hearth. Soon the room was bathed in the soft, golden glow of candles. He turned. Molly had not moved from where he had left her, by the door. He shrugged himself out of his evening coat and threw it over a chair, then he held out his hands to her.
‘Will you trust me not to hurt you?’
Slowly she walked towards him and gave him her hands. He drew her into his arms and kissed her gently. She was tense, nervous and he made no move to deepen the kiss until she relaxed against him. He would not rush her, she was as nervous as a colt, but slowly she began to respond. Her arms slipped around his neck and her tongue tangled with his, stirring his blood. Without breaking the kiss he lifted her and carried her across to the bed.
She drew away from him in alarm as he laid her on the covers and he murmured again, ‘Trust me.’
Even in the shadows of the bed’s canopy he could see her eyes were wide and anxious. He waited, making no move to join her until she reached for him. Russ measured his length against hers, cupping her face and gently kissing her lips before placing soft, butterfly kisses across her cheek and over her jaw. Her head went back, inviting him to trail his lips along the length of her throat. He paused to give particular attention to the little dip between the collarbones and she sighed. His hand cupped her breast and she pushed against his fingers. Even through the silk and silver net, he could feel the nub harden as he caressed her. With practised ease he slipped his hand inside the bodice. She flinched and he paused, raising his head to gaze down at her.
‘You only have to tell me and I will stop,’ he whispered. ‘I will do nothing against your will. You have my word.’
The look in her eyes and her tremulous smile made his soul soar and he bent his head to kiss her again, long and deeply, while his fingers caressed the cushioned roundness of her breast. Then he shifted his position, eased the breast from its silky wrapping and took the hardened peak in his mouth while his fingers moved across to work their magic on its twin. She began to stir restlessly, her hands moving over his shoulders, plucking at his shirt. He raised his head and shifted until he was kneeling beside her. His breath caught at the sight of her breasts, unconfined and wantonly displayed, but he must not be distracted from his purpose. Gently he gathered her skirts, uncovering the dainty ankles and silk stockings, fastened at the knee with lacy garters. He shifted again, positioning himself between her legs and bending to kiss her mouth once more.
This time when he raised his head she reached for him, gripping his shirt to pull him back for more, but he resisted. Gently easing her hands away, he slid down the bed and began to kiss her leg, just above the knee. She tensed, but made no protest, so he continued to caress her, his lips moving upwards across the soft inner thigh.
* * *
Molly closed her eyes and gave herself up to the sensations that were flooding through her. Her very bones felt like liquid, soft and pliant. Russ’s gentle hands had taken control of her body, easing her apart so that his mouth, his tongue could smooth over the tender skin of her thigh, moving ever closer towards her aching core. She whimpered, but she did not pull away, instead she was arching, inviting him.
He shifted again, his hands slid beneath her hips and held her firm while his mouth finally reached the hinge of her thighs and his tongue licked and flickered with unerring precision. She felt the pressure building, rippling through her, and she tried to move away from the sweet, delicious torture but she was his prisoner. A very willing prisoner, was her last coherent thought as her body convulsed in white-hot spasms of unbearable ecstasy. She was flying, higher, higher, until her world splintered and she cried out in sheer joy as her body shuddered and she felt herself falling, tumbling from heaven into oblivion.
Russ was cradling her in his arms as consciousness returned. She raised a hand to touch his cheek.
‘Thank you,’ she whispered.
‘It is for you, Molly. To show you how wonderful it can be.’
Her scent was on his lips as he kissed her. His hand slipped once more to her breast and she felt her body waking again beneath his touch. She gave herself up to the pleasure of it as he used his hands and his mouth to bring her again and again to the edge of climax and beyond. Until she collapsed against him, sated and exhausted.
She allowed herself a few moments’ recovery, then her hand slid over his chest and down towards the buttoned flap of his breeches. His body reacted to her touch, but he caught her fingers.
‘There is no need,’ he murmured, his breath warm against her cheek. ‘Tonight is about your pleasure, Molly.’
‘And it would please me to satisfy you,’ she replied, moving closer and unfastening the flap. He was already hard and aroused as her fingers pushed aside the cloth to release his erection. He had been denying himself while he attended to her needs, but now she returned the favour eagerly, revelling in her power over him as she kissed, caressed and stroked him until he caught her hands, pushing down as he reached his own satisfying release.
They lay together, wrapped in each other’s arms, their bodies resting from the onslaught, but at last Russ stirred.
‘I would like to keep you with me all night, but we must return. There is such a crush in the ballroom that I doubt our absence has been noted, but just in case, we must get you into the ladies’ retiring room, and I will return via the terrace.’ He sat up. ‘We must protect your reputation.’
He helped her from the bed, and straightened his clothes while she shook out her skirts.
‘Ah, yes, my reputation.’
He watched as she went across to the looking glass, checking that her bodice was once more decorously arranged and tidying her curls.
‘I have no wish to ruin you, Molly.’
‘I am aware of that.’
When she turned back to him it seemed the most natural thing in the world to open his arms to her and equally natural for her to walk into them. She rested her head on his shoulder and he heard her sigh.
‘I am most truly grateful to you for this, Russ. It has been wonderful. A revelation. But you may be easy. I shall not pursue you to do this again.’
Her words, so matter-of-fact, so understanding, hit him like a body blow. He had known from the start it must only be for one night but now he discovered that he did not want to let her go. He wanted her in his bed, to make love to her night after night. To consummate their union. But Molly Morgan would never consent to be his mistress and he would never ask it of her. The only solution would be marriage.
No! Russ shied away from the thought in panic. He was a confirmed bachelor. What he had seen of marriage had given him an aversion to that state. His stepmother and his sister-in-law were both grasping, selfish women, hell-bent on sucking a man dry of his fortune and his energies. He knew Molly was nothing like that, but her goodness frightened him even more. He had never loved anyone in his life and he doubted if he could remain faithful.
He said now, ‘You need a good man for your husband, Molly. A man who will treat you as you deserve, one who loves you. What you do not need is a hardened libertine who will be bored with you within a month.’
She moved out of his arms and looked at him, perplexed.
‘I never expected you to love me Russ,’ she said. ‘Neither did I expect you to marry me.’
‘How could I?’ He barely heard her, for he was desperately trying to convince himself as much as Molly that marriage was out of the question. ‘I am not made for domestic felicity, Molly, nor do I want a clinging wife. And you, with your provincial morals and good deeds, would be the very worst partner for me. It would destroy you, my dear, and I do not want to do that.’
* * *
Molly listened with increasing dismay. Did he not believe her? Perhaps he thought she was trying to shame him into making her an offer, but nothing could be further from the truth. What they had just shared had been quite, quite wonderful and she was angry that he should now sully it with this unwarranted attack. Her head came up.
‘You have made yourself very clear, sir. Now, let me be equally so. I never came here looking for a husband and I agree that your rakehell ways would never be acceptable to someone with my...my provincial morals. I am only sorry that you believe I would even contemplate such a union.’ She gave her skirts one final shake and walked towards the door. ‘My only concern now is to return to the ballroom without causing a scandal!’
* * *
Molly gained the safety of the retiring room without being seen by any of Newlands’s servants or guests. She could only hope that the attendant there would put her flushed cheeks and tousled appearance down to the lively dancing. She stayed there as long as she dared before making her way into the ballroom. Another country dance was in progress and the room buzzed with happy chatter, voices raised to make themselves heard above the music. Molly looked around. Serena was dancing, but Edwin was standing with Agnes and Sir Gerald at the side of the room. Molly made her way over to them, more than a little afraid they would ask her to explain her absence. Edwin saw her approaching and held his hand out to her.
‘Molly, do come and join us. I looked for you earlier, for I wanted you to be the first to know, but somehow things got a little out of hand.’ He flushed and looked a little conscious. ‘Almost everyone here seems to know it now—have you heard? Agnes has agreed to be my wife!’
Molly did not need to feign her delight. She kissed Agnes and then Edwin before turning to Sir Gerald to express the hope that he was happy at the news.
‘Overjoyed, ma’am,’ he replied, his open, cheerful countenance suffused in a beaming smile. ‘Agnes mentioned it to me shortly after supper and from that moment word spread like wildfire. By the time the musicians struck up for the boulanger, everyone seemed to know of it!’
‘And to approve, thankfully,’ added Edwin. ‘Lady Currick is already talking of a party, to celebrate our betrothal.’
‘At the King’s Head,’ put in Agnes, ‘so that everyone in the town may come and celebrate it.’ She touched Molly’s arm. ‘I know this is very sudden, Molly. Are you sure you do not object?’
‘Not at all,’ she said, smiling. ‘You are made for one another and you, Agnes, will be the perfect vicar’s wife, I am sure.’
‘I am so glad you approve,’ said Agnes, slipping her arm through Molly’s. ‘And you will live with us,’ she continued. ‘Edwin and I are agreed that you should continue to make your home at the vicarage.’
‘That is very kind, but I intend to set up my own establishment.’ Molly added, with perfect sincerity, ‘I have been feeling restless for some time now, so perhaps I shall begin by going away for a short holiday.’
Somewhere far away, where she might reflect on all that had happened and dispel the nagging ache that had settled itself around her heart.
‘Yes, but not until after the wedding,’ said Edwin quickly. ‘You will be needed to help with all the arrangements.’
Gerald laughed. ‘I said as much to Russ just now. He was all for leaving Newlands in the next few days, but I told him I expect him to support me, especially at the betrothal party which Lady Currick hopes to arrange for a week tomorrow. There is no way I shall allow him to abandon me before that!’
* * *
There was no escaping talk of the forthcoming nuptials for the rest of the evening or the following week. Molly could only be glad no one had noticed that she and Russ had been absent from the ballroom for more than an hour. Her head told her that she must now put that whole incident behind her, but her heart refused to obey. She wanted Russ more than ever and it was impossible to avoid him in the town, or at Newlands, where Edwin and Molly dined three times in almost as many days. It was a struggle to keep her eyes from following Russ as he moved across a room, or to converse with him calmly, when her whole body cried out for his touch. Her only consolation was his announcement that he had urgent business in London and must leave Compton Parva as soon as the betrothal party was over.
* * *
Word of the engagement had even reached Prospect House, as Molly discovered when she met Fleur and Nancy after the Sunday service at All Souls.
‘And what a good thing it is we persuaded Gerald not to invite me,’ said Fleur, glancing around to make sure there was no one near enough to overhear. ‘I understand a report on the ball and the announcement was sent to the Herald and they will doubtless send it on to the London papers. Miss Hebden told me the Herald always gives a full list of guests at any such occasion. Just imagine how it would have been if I had gone and if Papa had read of it.’
‘If, if,’ exclaimed Nancy impatiently. ‘You didn’t go and there’s an end to it. Instead of worrying about what might have been, you should be telling Molly your own news.’
‘Sir Gerald has proposed?’ Molly asked quickly.
‘Shh.’ Fleur was blushing furiously. ‘Yes, he has. He had spoken of it a week ago, but I told him I could not accept his offer without his sister’s blessing. Then Agnes announced her engagement and he was emboldened to discuss it with her yesterday, and he rode over directly to tell me that she has no objections, so now we are to be married. But it is still a secret, Molly. Apart from Nancy, you are the only one who knows of it at present, and I would be obliged if you did not make it generally known, if you please, but—oh, Molly, was ever anything so wonderful?’
No, thought Molly, stifling a sharp stab of self-pity. She did not begrudge her brother and her friends their happiness, but it threw into sharp relief her own predicament and the growing realisation that she had lost her heart to a rake.
* * *
Molly did not see Sir Gerald again until market day, when she returned to the vicarage just as he was leaving. She greeted him with a smile and asked him if he had come upon his sister’s business, or his own.
‘So Fleur has told you,’ he declared, relief in his voice. ‘I hope we have your blessing?’
‘Of course. Does this mean we will be arranging a double wedding?’
His face clouded. ‘I should like that, but Fleur lives in fear of her father. She knows he is still searching and is afraid if the banns are read for three weeks he will find her before we can be married. That is one of the reasons we are not making any announcement, in case the scandal sheets should get wind of it. I have been discussing the matter with Edwin and we are agreed that a licence would be the very thing. He has told me he is meeting with the bishop at Nidderton very soon and has promised to discuss it with him then.’
‘I suppose you have told Mr Russington?’ said Molly, trying to sound casual.
He paused. ‘As a matter of fact I haven’t. Russ has been more than a little discouraging about the whole affair. When he learned I was serious, he even suggested Fleur might only be interested in my money! That quite upset me, I can tell you, and we haven’t mentioned the matter since. But to be truthful, the fewer people who know of it the better. You know what servants are like and in a small place like Compton Parva once word gets out...’
‘Yes, I do know.’ So Russ had tried to dissuade his friend from pursuing Fleur. Molly felt more than a little guilty for asking him to do so. She tried not to think of the inducement she had offered him, nor his indignant refusal. She said now, ‘But he is your close friend, Sir Gerald. You should tell him.’
‘I will, of course, but he has been so out of temper this past week he has bitten my head off for the slightest thing! No, once Edwin has spoken to the bishop, then I shall ask Russ to be my groomsman and also to go with me to make the application.’ A rueful twinkle came into his eyes. ‘Given his reputation and my own, I think perhaps I am wise to have your brother speak to the bishop for me, don’t you think?’
‘I do, but Edwin told me that his business will keep him away for a week, at least,’ said Molly. ‘How will you bear the wait?’
Gerald caught her hands. ‘Bless you for your concern, Molly. Your brother has promised to write as soon as it is agreed, then we may be easy. Not that there will be an unseemly rush to the altar,’ he added, looking as stern as was possible for such an easy-going gentleman. ‘I will have no hint of scandal attached to Fleur. I am in no way ashamed of my future bride and mean to reinstate her into her proper place in society. I swear to you, Molly, that Fleur’s well-being is and always will be paramount to me.’
With that he went off, leaving Molly convinced that her friend could not be anything but happy with such a caring husband.
* * *
No one observing Russ’s calm and smiling demeanour on Friday evening would have known that he would rather have been anywhere than at the King’s Head. He stood with the Newlands party and watched as Agnes and Edwin received the congratulations of each new arrival.
‘This is such a happy time,’ declared Serena, who was standing beside him. She gave a little laugh and took his arm. ‘I do hope there will be another announcement shortly, Russ.’
Russ glanced down sharply. ‘What makes you say that?’
Her limpid look was innocence itself. ‘Just the way two people have been behaving recently.’
She certainly could not mean Molly and himself, for they had barely spoken two words together all evening. He allowed his eyes to shift to where Molly was standing beside her brother. She was wearing another new creation, this time of plum-red satin over a white petticoat.
‘Molly looks very well tonight, do you not think?’ murmured Serena, following his gaze. ‘She has changed a great deal since I first met her. Very much like a butterfly, in all her new finery.’
Russ did not reply. The vicar and his fiancée were taking to the floor for the first dance and he wondered if he might ask Molly to stand up with him, but before he could move, Gerald had stepped up and Molly was taking his hand and smiling up at him, her cheeks gently flushed. Not for the first time in recent weeks Russ felt a stab of jealousy towards his oldest friend.
Serena squeezed his arm. ‘Since quite the prettiest lady in the room is engaged, you had best stand up with me,’ she told him.
Hiding his frustration beneath a smile, Russ led his sister out to join one of the sets. The dance seemed interminably long and when it ended he spotted Molly crossing the room to talk to Sir William and Lady Currick, who had just arrived with their daughter.
When Serena begged him to take her over to speak to Nell Currick, he was only too pleased to oblige, but as they came up, Sir William carried Molly off to join the next set. Robbed of a second chance to dance with Molly, Russ excused himself quickly before Serena could suggest he stand up with Nell or her mother. He moved away to the side of the room, where he stood, watching the dancing and trying hard not to scowl. Hell and damnation, he was behaving like a mooncalf, something he had vowed he would never do over any woman. Molly, meanwhile, appeared to be enjoying herself immensely. Serena was right. Dressed in her bright new gowns she was indeed the prettiest woman in the room. Damn her.
* * *
Molly wished she might stop smiling but she knew Russ was watching her and she was determined not to give him any clue that she was unhappy. When her dance with Sir William ended, she thought Russ might ask her to dance with him, but instead she saw him leading out Agnes Kilburn. Molly would have liked to sit out the next dance, but pride would not allow her to refuse when Mr Sykes asked her to stand up with him.
* * *
There was a break in the dancing after that and Molly accompanied Mr and Mrs Sykes to the refreshment room. She was helping herself to a glass of lemonade when she heard the familiar deep voice at her shoulder.
‘You are quite the belle of the ball this evening, Mrs Morgan.’
She turned to Russ and made a little curtsy.
‘La, thank you, sir. I shall take that as a compliment.’
‘You have certainly been too busy to dance with me, have you not?’
His eyes were glinting and the slight upward curve to his lips caused her insides to flutter. The temptation was to smile back at him, maybe even hint that she was not engaged for any more dances, but Molly was not ready to make her peace with him yet. She must show him that she was immune to his charms.
‘It is gratifying to be in such demand as a dance partner,’ she said airily. ‘I do not know when I have enjoyed dancing more.’
‘And will you honour me with your hand for one of the next dances, madam?’
She widened her eyes. ‘Oh, heavens, I cannot make any promises, Mr Russington. I do not know yet who may ask me to stand up with them.’
‘Would you not prefer to dance with me?’
He moved closer, unnerving her, and she said sharply, ‘I have no preferences, Mr Russington.’
‘No? Surely all this new finery is aimed at finding a husband.’
He was rattled. Molly knew she should be pleased, it gave her the upper hand, but instead she felt only a sick kind of misery that they had lost the easy-going camaraderie she had come to enjoy.
‘I have no wish for a husband,’ she told him, her voice low and angry. ‘And if I did, it would be a man of integrity, a man I could trust and who would make me comfortable. Certainly not a rake.’
She closed her lips firmly before any more rash words could escape. She had spoken to wound him and his silence and the muscle working in his cheek showed she might just have done it. At the very least she had made him angry.
‘This is plain-speaking indeed, madam.’
‘I find it best to speak honestly, sir, so there can be no misunderstanding. But our situation makes it necessary for us to be civil to one another, Mr Russington.’ She kept her smile in place as she met his eyes with a defiant look. ‘I hope we can continue to do that.’
‘Do you?
‘But of course.’ She gave a tinkling laugh, light and brittle as glass. ‘I would not have our friends and family think there is anything amiss between us.’
He smiled then, a cold, courteous smile that did not reach his eyes.
‘Nor I, madam. I think our family and friends can rest assured there is nothing between us.’
With a stiff little bow he walked away and not a moment too soon, for Molly felt her resolve crumbling and she turned away, blinking back tears. Serena and the others should be proud of her. She had shown the great Beau Russington that she did not care the snap of her fingers for him. Now all she wanted to do was to crawl away into a dark corner and cry.
After that things went from bad to worse. She was standing with Mr and Mrs Thomas when she saw Russ approaching her and in a fit of pique worthy of a schoolgirl, she put her nose in the air and turned her back upon him.
Foolish woman. Cutting off your nose to spite your face!
Ashamed of her own behaviour, she excused herself from dancing with anyone else and made her way towards the door, eager to be alone.
‘Molly, are you quite well?’
Serena was at her side and looking anxiously at her.
‘I need a little air, that is all.’
‘You cannot go out alone,’ said Serena, taking her arm.
‘I am not going very far,’ said Molly, desperate for solitude. ‘And no one will see me if I remain on the balcony.
‘But you might be taken ill. I shall come with you.’
Unequal to the fight, Molly allowed Serena to accompany her out of the assembly rooms. The outer doors led on to the balcony and from there a flight of stairs ran down to the yard so that patrons might enter and leave the rooms without passing through the inn itself. Molly stepped out into the cool air, thankful for the shadows thrown up from the lanterns that illuminated the yard below them.
Serena wrinkled her nose. ‘Are you sure you want to stay out here? All I can smell is the stables.’
‘But it is cooler.’
‘True. Are you not enjoying yourself, Molly?’
‘I think I am a little tired,’ she replied. ‘I am not accustomed to dancing so much.’
Serena chuckled. ‘Our plan to transform you has worked beautifully. And Russ has been watching you all evening.’
‘I do not want him to watch me,’ Molly retorted, feeling that tears were very close. ‘I merely want him to go away.’
Serena turned towards her and took her hands. ‘Is that truly what you want, Molly? I thought you loved my brother.’
Swallowing hard, Molly averted her gaze, staring down into the yard. ‘Of...of course not. He is not at all the sort of man to suit me.’
With my provincial morals and good deeds.
‘Well, that is a shame,’ sighed Serena, ‘because I think you are just the sort of woman Russ needs.’
If only that were true, thought Molly sadly.
Below her, a dusty travelling chaise clattered over the cobbles and the yard burst into life. Ostlers ran to the horses and the landlord came bustling out to open the carriage door, bowing low as an elderly man climbed out. There was something vaguely familiar about the portly, bewigged figure and instead of turning away to answer Serena she moved a little closer to the rail. The old man’s strident voice carried clearly up to her.
‘My name is Dellafield. I sent ahead to bespeak a room for the night.’
‘Dellafield,’ said Serena, beside her. ‘Isn’t that the name of the housekeeper at—’
Molly grabbed her wrist and pulled her back into the shadows.
‘Serena,’ she hissed, ‘promise me you will not say a word about this.’
‘If you wish, but—’
‘Promise!’
‘Yes, yes, of course.’
Molly nodded, her mind racing. ‘Let us go back inside. And, Serena, remember, I rely upon you not to say a word to anyone!’
* * *
They returned to the ballroom to find the music had stopped and Sir William Currick was standing on a chair, congratulating Miss Kilburn and Mr Frayne upon their engagement. All eyes were on the speaker and Molly made her way through the crowd until she was beside Sir Gerald. She plucked at his sleeve and drew him to the side of the room, where she quickly explained what she had overheard.
‘So Fleur’s father has found her,’ he exclaimed.
‘Not necessarily,’ Molly said slowly. ‘It’s more likely he saw my name or Edwin’s on the list of guests at your ball. The Dellafields were our neighbours in Hertfordshire, and Fleur and I were at school together. Having tried all other avenues, perhaps he hopes Fleur and I may have kept in touch.’
‘Even if you do not tell him it is only a matter of time before he learns about Prospect House.’ Gerald was thinking quickly, one fist thudding into his palm. ‘I must delay no longer—once Fleur is my wife, I shall be able to protect her. Come, Molly, let us find your brother. Fleur and I will go with him to see the bishop tomorrow.’
But Edwin had by this time replaced Sir William on the chair and was making a speech of thanks. They were obliged to wait until he had finished before they could pull him to one side and explain what had happened.
‘I shall send word to Prospect House this very night,’ said Gerald, ‘and we will accompany you to Nidderton in the morning. Once we have the licence we can be married there and then Fleur will be safe.’
Edwin put out his hands. ‘I wish that were possible, Gerald, but my meeting is tomorrow morning. If I am not to be late, then I must be leaving Compton Parva before dawn and on horseback. I delayed my departure so I might attend this party with Agnes, you see.’
‘Then we will follow on in the carriage at daybreak,’ Gerald stated. ‘You will come with us, will you not, Molly? I will not have any hint of impropriety attending Fleur. Not only do we have to drive in a closed carriage all the way to Nidderton, but we will be obliged to spend at least one night there before I can make her my wife.’ He took her hands. ‘Pray say you will do it, Molly. You are Fleur’s oldest friend. I know she will want you with her.’
‘Yes, I will come,’ she replied. ‘To tell the truth I shall be glad to be out of town when Fleur’s father comes calling!’
* * *
Across the room, Russ watched as Gerald kissed Molly’s hands, one after the other, saw her obvious pleasure at the gesture. A man of integrity. A man she could trust. Damnation, had she set her cap at him? Had Gerald been dangling after her all along and using Fleur Dellafield as a smokescreen? He turned away, feeling as if he had been punched in the gut. He could no longer think clearly and the sooner this damned evening was over the better.
* * *
Edwin touched Molly’s arm. ‘My dear, I have sent for the carriage. I think it is time I was leaving. I have a very early start in the morning.’
‘Of course. I will collect my wrap and come with you.’
‘No, no, there is no need for that. Lady Currick or one of the other ladies will see you home. There will be at least two more dances. I pray you will stay and enjoy yourself.’
‘I have had all the enjoyment I shall get this evening,’ she said, trying and failing to make light of it.
Thankfully her brother was too preoccupied to notice. He glanced back across the room. ‘I think Gerald, too, would like to be going home and preparing for the morrow, but he knows it’s best to stay. He does not want to rouse any suspicions.’ He touched her arm. ‘I persuaded him he must tell Agnes about this before he leaves in the morning, but he is adamant that no one else should know of his plans at the present time, Molly, so we must be careful.’
Molly wondered if Russ would disapprove of what amounted to an elopement. Would he disapprove of her for helping them? Her eyes grew hot and she blinked rapidly. Not that it would make any difference now, since their friendship was quite at an end.
They had reached the yard when the landlord came running out of the taproom.
‘Mr Frayne, there is a gentleman arrived, sir, and he was asking about yourself and Mrs Morgan. I think he wishes to call upon you tomorrow—since you are here, would you like to see him now, before you leave?’
Edwin helped Molly into the carriage before answering the landlord.
‘I think not. My sister is far too fatigued for that. But we don’t wish to offend the fellow, so you had best not mention that we were here tonight. He can call at the vicarage tomorrow—but tell him not to call too early, mind you!’ He jumped in after Molly and muttered as the door closed upon them, ‘Hopefully by the time he comes, we will both be away from home.’
* * *
Russ strode out across the moors, hoping the fresh early-morning air would clear his head. He had risen before dawn and slipped out of the house as soon as there was light to see his way. He had spent a restless night, the images of Gerald and Molly haunting his dreams. Molly dancing with Gerald, laughing with him. Talking with him. Allowing him to kiss her hands.
Surely there was nothing in it, yet Gerald had been oddly distracted on the journey back from the King’s Head and, unusually, he had not shared his thoughts with Russ. They had not clashed over a woman since their schooldays and Russ hoped that his suspicions were unfounded, but there was no doubt that Molly had been very friendly towards Gerald last night. Whereas towards him—his thoughts veered off. He had only himself to blame if she was angry with him. He had taken her to his room, pleasured her—yes, pleasured her, he reminded himself—but then he had explained why it could go no further. Why he was not the man for her.
He whipped his stick across the dying heather. Confound it, he had spoken no more than the truth. He was trying to save her from the hurt and disappointment of losing her heart to a rake.
He stopped. Had she lost her heart already? Was she—could she be in love with him?
The idea was enticing. He wanted it to be true and he could almost believe it was. Molly was no flirt, but she had kissed him, trusted him. He began to walk again, more slowly this time. Above him the clear grey sky was slowly changing to blue as the first bars of sunlight appeared on the horizon, and the golden rays seemed to pierce his soul. He had already acknowledged that Molly was not greedy and grasping like his stepmother. Now he was forced to recognise his own feelings. He loved her. Deeply. But was it possible he could be a faithful husband?
No. A ridiculous fancy. Most likely due to lack of food—after all, he had been walking for more than an hour and had eaten nothing since last night. He turned to make his way back to Newlands, but the idea of marriage had taken hold and he could not shake it off. It might already be too late. Perhaps Gerald had stolen the march on him and was going to offer for Molly today. After all, it was no secret that Edwin was going away, so she would be alone. Russ recalled now when he had pressed Gerald to tell him what was the matter, all his friend would do was laugh and say he would explain everything once tomorrow was over. The leaden weight was now dragging at his heart. Did Molly think Gerald a man of integrity, a man who would make her comfortable?
‘But she does not love him!’
The words burst from him. He would stake his life that they were true, yet he feared she might accept an offer from Gerald. After all, Russ had awakened the passion in Molly, had told her she would find happiness with another man. Why should that man not be Kilburn? Suddenly the thought of losing Molly hit Russ like a physical blow. He veered away from the house and almost ran to the stables. He must go and see her, tell her what a crass fool he had been and put his future, his happiness, in her hands.
He was surprised to find the stable yard already bustling with activity. The Kilburns’ barouche was being wheeled out of the carriage house and while Russ waited for his horse to be saddled he asked the head groom who had ordered the carriage.
‘Miss Kilburn, sir. She and the other ladies are driving into Compton Parva this morning.’ The fellow allowed a grin to split his weather-beaten features. ‘I believe they’re going shopping again, sir.’
Russ realised he had been holding his breath. So Gerald had not ordered the barouche and a quick glance in the stables showed that his friend’s grey hack was still in its stall. He scrambled up on to his horse and gathered up the reins. He had the chance to get to Molly first and put right the damage he had done.
Once they had clattered out of the yard, Russ gave Flash his head and galloped through the park to the gates, but he steadied the big horse once they reached the road. Impatient as he was to see Molly he did not wish to arrive looking flustered.
* * *
The morning sun was warm on his back as he trotted into the town and, as he knocked on the vicarage door, his spirits were high.
They sank moments later with the news that Mrs Morgan had gone out. The manservant was very polite, but refused to divulge his mistress’s direction. Even when Russ asked him directly if she had gone to Prospect House, the fellow remained tight-lipped.
‘And when do you expect her back?’
‘I’m afraid I cannot say, sir.’
‘Come, man, surely you know when your mistress will return.’
The man coloured, but stood his ground. ‘My mistress has given me no instructions to divulge such information, sir.’
Russ wondered if she had seen his approach and had given orders to deny her. As the door closed he stepped back and looked up at the first-floor windows, but they were blank. Not even the twitch of a curtain to suggest anyone was watching him. Yet the feeling persisted that the manservant was hiding something and he wondered whether Gerald would be admitted if, or when, he called. Russ decided he would not leave town just yet. There was a small coffee house just across the road from the vicarage and he strolled over. There were not many customers and he positioned himself at a table near the window, from where he had a good view of the vicarage door. If nothing else, it would give him an opportunity to break his fast.
* * *
Two hours later the only caller at the vicarage had been an elderly gentleman, who had also been turned away, and Russ left the coffee shop, cursing himself for being so foolishly jealous of his best friend. He walked back to the King’s Head, where he had left his horse, but as he passed the door and headed for the yard a tap boy came running out to beg him to step inside and join Miss Kilburn and her party, who were taking coffee in a private parlour. Russ guessed the ladies had finished their shopping trip. He would be expected to escort them back to Newlands and in truth he did not object, so he turned back and entered the inn. Hopefully conversing with Agnes, Serena and Mrs Sykes might take his mind off Molly.
The ladies greeted him cheerfully and bade him sit at the table with them. While they waited for fresh coffee to be brought in, Russ evaded questions about what had brought him to the town so early.
‘When you did not join us for breakfast we assumed you were out with Gerald,’ remarked Serena, as the servants withdrew again.
‘Oh?’ Russ looked up. ‘Where has he gone?’
‘He left word that he is visiting friends,’ explained Agnes, pouring coffee for everyone.
‘Strange that he should say nothing about this last night,’ remarked Russ.
Agnes waved a dismissive hand. ‘Perhaps he only had word from them when we returned from the King’s Head.’
‘Russ, you will never guess what we heard when we arrived in Compton Parva this morning,’ declared Serena, her eyes wide. ‘Miss Hebden told us that Molly was seen getting into a carriage early this morning. The whole town is buzzing with it.’
‘Then the whole town should be ashamed of themselves,’ retorted Agnes, directing a frown at Serena. ‘Most likely Molly was going to Prospect House.’
‘Then why did she not take the gig?’ argued Serena. She turned to Russ, her eyes wide. ‘But what if she has run off with someone? Did you know that Gerald left at dawn and in a closed carriage? What if they were running off together?’
‘Serena!’ Agnes was laughing and shaking her head, declaring that she was talking nonsense.
‘So Gerald is not at Newlands?’ Russ tried to subdue his growing suspicion.
‘No,’ said Agnes, avoiding his eye. ‘He left word that we were not to expect him to return before tomorrow evening at the earliest. Oh, dear, this coffee pot is empty. Ring the bell, Serena, if you please, and we will order more.’
Russ schooled his countenance to indifference and kept silent while they waited for the servant to refresh the coffee pot. He would not believe there was any intrigue between Gerald and Molly. It was one thing to think Gerald might go to the vicarage and propose, but he was quite sure Molly would never agree to an elopement. Besides, she was of age and had no need to run away. No, it was a ridiculous idea and once the servant had withdrawn Russ asked cheerfully what other news the ladies had gleaned in the town that morning.
‘Why, nothing,’ replied Agnes, smiling at him. ‘Do you think we are such sad creatures that we only live for gossip?’
‘Well, there was the altercation Serena and I overheard between the landlord and one of his guests as we came in today,’ declared Mrs Sykes. ‘The gentleman was complaining that the landlord had misled him and he was asking all and sundry about Mrs D—’
‘Oh, la, but that is nothing to do with us,’ exclaimed Serena, rudely talking over the older lady. ‘We should be more concerned about Gerald. Russ, I think he has eloped with Molly.’
He said sharply, ‘Do not be so foolish, Serena. I beg you will not utter such damaging nonsense again.’
‘Oh, I shall not say it to anyone else,’ Serena replied sunnily.
‘You will not say anything more at all!’ he growled.
‘Only I could not but notice that Gerald and Molly were on such good terms last night,’ she continued, quite ignoring her brother. ‘But I suppose that is not surprising, for Molly was looking exceptionally well, did you not think, Russ? She is quite transformed these past few weeks. Or had you not noticed?’
‘Pray do not tease your brother, Serena,’ Agnes begged, her cup clattering in its saucer.
‘And why not? It is clear that he loves Molly Morgan.’
‘Mercy me!’ Mrs Sykes began to fan herself rapidly.
Russ barked, ‘Serena, that is enough!’
But his minx of a sister merely turned her frank gaze upon him and demanded that he deny it, if it was not true.
‘And Molly is quite as much in love with you,’ she continued, reaching for another piece of cake.
He ground his teeth. ‘If...if that were so, she would hardly be running off with Kilburn.’
Serena studied the cake for a moment before taking a tiny bite. ‘Well, after the way you behaved last night I think she might well run off with anyone, just to teach you a lesson. And I cannot but think it a mistake. They will both be very miserable, don’t you agree?’
A stillness had fallen over the room. Russ clenched his fists, trying to steady his breathing and to think calmly.
‘No,’ he said at last. ‘Molly is not the sort to elope with anyone. I know her too well to think she would countenance such impropriety.’ He caught the look that passed between Agnes and Serena and was instantly on the alert. ‘Well, what is it?’
‘Gerald told his man he was heading for Nidderton,’ said Agnes.
‘Is that not where Mr Frayne is meeting the bishop?’ murmured Serena. ‘And bishops can issue licences for a speedy marriage.’ She looked at Russ as he pushed his chair back, the legs scraping across the boards. ‘You are going after them.’
‘Yes.’ He snatched up his hat. ‘I do not think for a moment there is any truth in your outrageous supposition, but I need to be sure.’
‘Splendid. And when you get back, brother mine, you may thank me properly.’
He was at the door, but at these words he stopped. ‘When I get back, sister,’ he said with menace, ‘I shall arrange for you to be sent to a nunnery, you interfering baggage!’
* * *
The private parlour at the Bear was comfortable enough. A cheerful fire blazed in the hearth, but even with the shutters closed the sounds from the market square intruded. However, everyone was too grateful to have found accommodation to complain. Edwin had joined Molly, Fleur and Gerald for the evening, assuring them that he had seen quite enough of his ecclesiastical colleagues during the day and was happy not to dine with them. However, when the covers were removed, he declined Gerald’s invitation to join him in a glass of brandy.
‘I know it is not late, but it is time I returned to my own lodgings. Do not forget I have been up since before dawn.’
‘So, too, have we,’ said Molly, smothering a yawn. ‘It has been a long day.’
‘But a successful one,’ put in Gerald. He reached out and caught Fleur’s hand. ‘We are both extremely grateful. To Molly, for agreeing to come with us, and to you, Edwin, for promoting our cause with your bishop.’ He patted his pocket. ‘I have the licence safe and tomorrow I shall make Fleur my wife.’
‘And I shall have great pleasure in marrying you,’ declared Edwin, rising. ‘Now, if you will excuse me, I had best leave before I fall asleep at the table.’
Molly walked with him to the door, returning to find Gerald alone in the private parlour, sipping at his brandy.
‘Fleur has gone out to, um, pluck a rose,’ he said, using the familiar euphemism to indicate Fleur had gone out to the privy. ‘She is afraid she will not sleep tonight, and I suggested she take a glass of something before we all retire.’ He waved towards the bottles on the table. ‘You see our host has provided some light wine, as well as the brandy. Will you join us?’
‘With pleasure, Sir Gerald, although I do not foresee any difficulty in sleeping.’
‘Nor I, but—’ He broke off, frowning at the sounds of an altercation in the passageway. ‘What the devil is going on?’
They both jumped to their feet as the door burst open and Russ came in, his greatcoat flapping open and a thunderous scowl on his face. He closed the door upon the still-protesting landlord and stood with his back against it, ignoring Gerald and glaring at Molly, who instinctively retreated behind the table.
‘Aye, madam,’ he barked, throwing his hat and gloves on to a chair, ‘you may well cower away from me!’
‘I say, old friend,’ Gerald protested, ‘there is no reason to be so angry with Molly.’
‘Oh, isn’t there?’ Molly took another step away at his icy tones. ‘She deceived me.’
‘Because we did not tell you what was happening? That was my fault,’ said Gerald. ‘I swore her to secrecy’
‘And why would you do that?’ Russ rounded on his friend. ‘Did you think I would call you out?’ His lip curled. ‘I would not waste my time. You are welcome to marry the jade.’
‘No, no, Russ, you have it all wrong,’ cried Molly, but her words went unheeded as Gerald moved forward, his face darkening.
‘You go too far, Russington.’
‘I haven’t gone far enough yet!’
Molly watched in alarm as the two men squared up to one another. She flew around the table and pushed herself between them.
‘You cannot start a fight here!’ she said angrily, one hand on each chest. ‘Pray be sensible. You are friends.’
‘Not any longer!’ snapped Russ. He took Molly by the shoulders and firmly put her to one side. ‘Out of the way, strumpet, and let me at him!’
For a brief moment chaos reigned. Molly grabbed his arm and Gerald protested as Russ tried to shake her off, but they all froze as a loud shriek rent the air.
‘What is going on here?’
* * *
In the sudden silence Russ looked towards the door, where Fleur was standing with her hands on her pale cheeks.
‘What the devil!’ he exclaimed as she ran across the room and into Gerald’s arms. Not that he really needed to ask. He looked back at Gerald. ‘So you are not marrying Molly.’
‘Molly?’ Gerald blinked at him over Fleur’s golden head. ‘No, of course, I am not. She is here as chaperon. Fleur and I are to be married tomorrow, by licence.’
‘Ah, of course.’ Russ nodded slowly. ‘I understand now. I owe you all an apology.’
He looked around for Molly. She had backed away and was now glaring at him.
‘How dare you?’ Her voice was shaking with anger. ‘How dare you force your way in here and insult everyone in that brutish manner? You will go, this minute.’
‘Not before you give me a chance to explain.’
‘I have heard quite enough from you,’ she threw at him. ‘A jade, am I? A strumpet! You had best leave, before I summon the landlord to throw you out!’
‘My love.’ Fleur pushed herself out of Gerald’s arms. ‘I need a little air. Will you take me outside, please?’
‘What, now?’ asked Gerald, a note of surprise in his voice. Russ was looking at Molly, but from the tail of his eye he saw Gerald jump, as if he had been pinched. ‘Oh, aye, yes. Of course.’
‘No!’ exclaimed Molly. ‘Fleur, you cannot leave me alone with this...this monster!’
Ignoring her protests, Gerald whisked Fleur out of the room and closed the door firmly behind them. Russ knew they were giving him a chance to make his peace with Molly, but was it too late? She was still glaring at him, her arms folded as if to shield herself from attack.
He took a deep breath. ‘I beg your pardon. Coming in here, what I said to you—it was very wrong of me.’
Silence. He tried again.
‘I did not intend—that is, when Serena suggested you had run off with Kilburn I didn’t believe her. I knew there had to be another explanation.’
‘Ha! If that was so, why would you come chasing all the way to Nidderton?’
‘Because I had to be sure. I could not bear the thought of your marrying Kilburn.’
‘You were the one who said I must find myself a husband.’
She threw the words at him and he flinched.
‘Yes, I know, but...I was wrong.’
‘Oh? You think I am unworthy of a gentleman.’
‘No!’
‘You called me a jade.’
‘I apologised for that.’
‘And a...a strumpet.’ Her voice positively shook with rage.
‘I have said it was wrong of me. But I was angry. I have spent the whole day searching the town for you. I have called at every inn and hotel and tavern, trying to find you.’
‘Why on earth would you do that?’
* * *
Molly’s heart was pounding against her ribs so hard it hurt. Russ, too, appeared to be breathing heavily. He would not look at her, but was scowling at the floor.
She moved a step closer. ‘Why, Russ?’
‘Because I love you!’
It was as if the words were wrenched from him. He raised his head and looked at her.
‘I could not let you marry Kilburn without telling you how I felt.’
She put one hand on a chair back to steady herself. It was what she wanted to hear, what she had dreamed of, but her anger still simmered and she was not about to throw herself into his arms.
‘And what difference did you think that would make, if I had been about to marry Sir Gerald?’ she asked him, her voice was dripping with scorn. ‘Did you think I would cry off and marry you, because you are more fashionable than your friend, or perhaps because your fortune is ten times larger?’
‘No! I know you too well to think you would be influenced by either of those things. I thought you cared for me.’ He exhaled. ‘I thought you loved me.’
‘And yet you believed I might marry your friend?’ She shook her head. ‘For a man with such a reputation as a lover, Charles Russington, you are woefully ignorant of women.’
‘Of women like you, yes.’
‘I am not so very different.’
‘Oh, but you are.’ He gave her a rueful smile. ‘You are good and kind and strong. A reformer. A woman of principal. Not at all the sort to attract me, and yet, from the first moment we met, I was lost. When I am near you, I cannot think properly. The polished address that I am supposed to possess all disappears. I admit it, I behave like a moonstruck schoolboy. I cannot help it, Molly, I have fallen helplessly, hopelessly in love with you.’
He had been moving closer as he spoke, his eyes holding Molly’s, begging her to believe him. He went down on one knee before her.
‘Nothing else matters to me but your happiness, Molly. I have never felt like this before, as if my very existence depends upon one person. Upon you. I want you in my life, Molly Morgan. I want you with me, at my side, as my wife, my friend. More than that, I want to be in your life, to help you with your charities if you will let me. I want to learn from your goodness.
‘I cannot tell you how it will end, my love, but I give you my word I will try with all my heart to be a good husband to you, to love and cherish you for the rest of your days.’ He reached out to take her hands. ‘What do you say, dearest? It is a big risk, I know, but will you trust me to take care of you? Will you honour me with your heart and your hand?’
‘Oh, Russ.’ His face swam before her eyes. ‘Oh, Russ, how I love you!’
She tugged at his hands and the next instant he was on his feet and pulling her into his arms.
‘Say it,’ he muttered, covering her face with kisses. ‘Put me out of my misery, darling Molly, and say you will marry me.’
Darling Molly.
Her heart took flight at that and she answered him breathlessly. ‘Yes, yes, I will marry you.’
With a growl of triumph, he captured her lips again, kissing her so soundly that her very bones turned to water. When Russ ended the kiss she sighed and leaned against him, eyes closed, and it was not until she heard a soft, apologetic cough that she realised they were not alone.
Gerald and Fleur had come in and were looking at them with unfeigned delight.
‘So you have made it up,’ remarked Gerald, grinning.
‘Yes,’ said Russ, keeping is arms tight around Molly. ‘Do you think the bishop would grant us a licence, too?’
‘Undoubtedly. Frayne told us the fellow was pleased to be bringing one reprobate back into the fold, so I am sure he will be delighted to make it two.’
‘Well, my love?’ Russ looked down at Molly, who was still resting her head against his shoulder. ‘Shall we be married in Nidderton? Perhaps Fleur and Gerald would delay their return to Newlands long enough to attend us.’
‘I would like that,’ she said softly. She added, blushing, ‘Very much.’
Gerald clapped his hands. ‘Then it is settled. Did I not tell you there was something in the air here? And, Russ, now you are here you can be my groomsman, tomorrow, If you will.’
‘With all my heart, my friend.’
‘Capital!’ Gerald opened the door. ‘Now, where’s that rascally landlord? He must fetch us more glasses and we will celebrate!’
* * *
An hour later, after several toasts by the gentlemen and not a few tears shed by the ladies, Fleur announced she was going to bed. Molly would have accompanied her, but she waved her back to her seat.
‘You have not yet finished your wine,’ she said. ‘I am sure Gerald will escort me to my room.
‘With pleasure, my love. I am ready for my bed now, too. We have a busy day ahead.’ He kissed Molly’s cheek, then clasped Russ’s hand. ‘Goodnight, my friend. Fleur and I are delighted you will be with us for our wedding tomorrow and the news that you and Molly are to be married has made our happiness complete.’
With a final wave he took Fleur’s arm and they went out, leaving Molly and Russ alone.
‘Where are you staying?’ she asked him.
‘I left Flash at the Fox and Goose while I searched for you. I should be able to get lodging there for the night.’
‘But it is late and you cannot be sure of getting a room.’
Molly kept her eyes lowered while the silence dragged on for a full minute.
‘No,’ he said slowly. ‘They may be full by now.’
She studied her wine, turning the glass round and round in her hands.
‘Fleur and I have separate rooms,’ she murmured. ‘You could share mine.’
She wondered if she had shocked him and looked up anxiously.
‘Is that what you want, Molly?’ He was watching her, a mixture of hope and concern in his dark eyes.
She rose and held out her hand to him. ‘It is what I have wanted, ever since that night at Newlands.’
* * *
There was plenty of noise from the taproom but thankfully the stairs and corridors were deserted as Molly led Russ into her room. Pausing only to turn the key in the lock, he took her in his arms and kissed her.
‘Are you sure about this, Molly?’
‘Very sure.’ Smiling, she cupped his face. ‘I do not want to wait another moment for you.’
She drew him down to her, pressing her lips against his as her fingers slid into his hair and tangled with the silky curls. His tongue danced into her mouth, flickering, teasing, and she pressed herself against him as her body responded. Between kisses they began to undress one another, their fingers scrabbling with strings and buttons until they fell together, naked, on to the bed.
She gave a little mewl of pleasure as he put his mouth to one breast, while his fingers played with the other. She shifted restlessly as the lightness rippled through her body, but she resisted the pull of desire and concentrated on Russ’s pleasure, kissing and stroking his hard, aroused body until she knew he was also at the tipping point, then she straddled him, taking him inside her, gasping at the delight of it and revelling at her power as he groaned beneath her. She bent forward to kiss him and he gasped as her breasts skimmed his chest. In one swift movement he caught her in his arms and rolled her over, taking control, never breaking the kiss.
He began to push into her, slowly and steadily, every movement a caress that took her closer to the pinnacle. Her response was instinctive, tensing around him, lifting her hips, feeling the heat building. When she would have cried out he stopped her mouth with a kiss, his tongue thrusting deep, and she felt her body melting beneath the onslaught until she was almost fainting with delight. He carried her higher, the ripples building into a flood. She was flying, soaring, almost delirious with the pleasure of it all. Russ gasped out her name and their bodies shuddered and bucked against one another. She felt the dam burst within her and clung on tightly as the final spasm took her over the edge and consciousness splintered. She and Russ collapsed together, sated, exhausted and cradled in each other’s arms.
Gently, Russ drew the covers over them to keep off the chill air, and as he wrapped himself around her, Molly felt a glow of contentment. She snuggled against him and closed her eyes. The past was done now. She could look forward to the future.