The family dinner ended, and everyone rose from the table. With tomorrow a busy day, no one lingered over tea or port. McCalpin exchanged good-byes with the family members who were leaving for their own homes. A sudden wave of discontent bit with enough force that he stopped before taking his own leave. The cause couldn’t be that he tired of his lonely existence. He’d never experienced such an emotion in his life. Yet, seeing Claire and Emma leave with their husbands left him on edge for some reason.
He dismissed the irritation. It was little more than a reminder he needed to discuss what happened at the modiste’s shop with March and explain she had no cause to worry over money anymore.
He briefly wished William a good night, then turned to March. “Would you have a few moments this evening? I’d like to show you something.”
“Of course.” She dipped her head, and a slight pink tinted her cheeks.
Every time he drew near, she seemed to blush. Really, it was completely charming. Without a word, he leisurely led her through a stroll of the various halls of the massive home until they reached the family’s portrait gallery, a lovely room that showcased the many generations of the Dukes of Langham and their families from the first duke, William, who had served King William and Queen Mary to the current duke, McCalpin’s father. Floor-to-ceiling windows surrounded one wall and gave a spectacular view of the increasing snowfall.
Standing elegantly tall, she surveyed the scene outside before turning to him. Her face had softened, making her even more beautiful.
“It’s so peaceful with the snow.” She turned her attention back to the view of Langham Park. Her straight profile was like a lightning rod that forced a jolt of desire to charge through his body. He took a deep breath. He wanted to ease her concerns about money, not seduce her. However, it was becoming bloody near impossible to ignore her and the effect she had on him.
“It’s a magnificent sight,” he agreed, not tearing his gaze from her person. He cleared his throat and took a step forward. “March, let’s sit.”
He waited for her to take the settee that faced the window before he joined her. His leg pressed against hers, and he frowned. He hadn’t done that deliberately, but he relished the heat of their contact.
She frowned in return. “Have I done something to displease you?”
“No, just lost in my thoughts.” He smiled, hoping she’d relax.
She adjusted her bottom until they touched from hip to knee. She seemed completely unaware of his discomfort as she studied the softly falling snow.
“My mother shared what happened at the dress shop yesterday.” He studied her profile. When she swallowed gently, the movement emphasized the elegance of her long neck. God, he was tempted to place his lips there to see if she tasted as sweet as she appeared. A wild need to feel the throbbing of her pulse against his mouth coursed through him.
She turned, and a gentle smile favored her lips. “I’m afraid I made a fool of myself at Her Grace’s favorite shop—”
He touched her lips with his forefinger to halt her words. “No. I apologize. I should have had this conversation with you earlier. I just assumed you were aware I’d take care of the expenses for all the preparations for the Season. Mother, of course, wanted to pay for your new wardrobes.”
“Why would you do that?” she asked with incredulity. Her brow creased as she contemplated him as if he were a puzzle. “That’s not proper.”
“It’s what a guardian does.” He took a deep breath and continued. “My uncle was a close friend to your father’s. My family is extremely loyal to friends, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. By giving assistance, I know that the effort would please my namesake if he were here today.”
She clasped her hands together and stared at them. “Thank you. That’s very kind. Please don’t worry about me. I’ll take care of my own needs. My sisters”—she cleared throat—“and I appreciate all you and your family have done for us. For the first time in years, my family is safe and genuinely happy.”
Much like he’d touch a skittish filly, he gently tilted her chin with one hand and forced her to look at him. “I want to afford you the same courtesy. I understand you only ordered two dresses. You’ll need additional gowns with the busy social schedule Mother has planned. You’re not still intent on altering your grandmother’s gowns, are you?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “There’s no need to worry. Faith and Julia offered to help me. They won’t allow me to dress in anything that would be embarrassing to you or your family, I promise.”
“You’d never embarrass me.” Her stubbornness bordered on foolishness. Her dress, an elegant ivory satin trimmed with crimson ribbon, proved his point. He considered whether this was a silly game, but dismissed it. March was always straightforward even when he confronted her about embezzling the trust money. “Still, I insist you let me help. I want this to be special for you, too.”
Her face was as still as the newly fallen snow. Finally, she smiled, and the cold drafts that swirled around them seemed to calm. “I appreciate the sentiment. But I need to save money—”
“March.” He released a frustrated sigh. The blasted woman insisted on this nonsensical idea of finances. He had the money to help her and her family. He and William had gone through a generous budget that would have little impact on his investments or finances. They’d even sought their mother’s council on it, and she’d been stunned at his generosity. “Why are you so adamant about this?”
She seemed somewhat sheepish. “I worry about the future for Bennett and me. I need to be certain that there will be enough so his estate doesn’t suffer. You’ve never had to experience the distress of looking at accounts and bills and wondering—”
“It’s not your worry anymore.” If anything was more certain than the sun rising, it was his complete wonderment at how to make sense of bills and accounts.
She smiled as if to appease him. “Thank you, Michael.”
The sound of his name from her lips made his stomach twist into endless somersaults. Surprisingly, the effect was quite pleasant. Still, he wasn’t convinced she really believed him or even trusted him.
“You’re welcome. May I escort you to the family quarters? I need to go home before Donar decides he’s had enough of the snow for the evening.”
As they walked, he slowed his pace to have as much time in her company as possible without being too obvious. At the bottom of the steps to the family quarter, she studied his face with the most delightful smile. “Isn’t Donar the name of the Norse god of storms?”
McCalpin leaned close enough that he caught her sweet lilac fragrance. His senses went on alert as every particle of his being became aware of her as a woman—one his body wanted.
“He doesn’t like to get wet,” he offered with a lift of one eyebrow.
She laughed, and the rich throaty sound was something he could easily grow accustomed to—every night.
“Good night, Michael.” She turned and headed up the stairs.
“Good night, March,” he whispered. God only knew how he would survive this guardianship.
And her.
* * *
March entered her bedchamber where a warm fire blazed in the fireplace. She marveled at the extravagances bestowed upon her and her family. The amount of wood in the fireplace would have kept Lawson Court’s kitchen warm for three days.
She kicked off her slippers and looked with longing toward the bed. All hints of sleepiness disappeared when she saw four large boxes tied together with an exquisite black satin ribbon.
She approached the bed gingerly, then chided herself. A ribbon with an attached card from Mademoiselle Mignon’s shop hung from the top box. A footman had obviously made a delivery mistake. The packages must belong to one of her sisters. She reached to remove the boxes from her bed when the card stole her breath.
Addressed on the folded piece of vellum was her name. The signature unmistakably Michael’s. She should know as she’d practiced it for nearly a week before she’d summoned enough courage to write her first embezzling letter to his solicitor.
Carefully, she broke Mademoiselle Mignon’s seal, then read the note.
Dear March,
I couldn’t resist when I saw this beautiful fabric. The other items were hand selected by the duchess. Trust me, she has excellent taste. I want you to feel as if tomorrow night is the introduction to society that you missed so long ago.
I’ll be looking for that lovely girl. Your undeniable beauty will enhance the splendor of the fabric.
Don’t.
I can hear you denying it now. Please for both of our sakes, let yourself dream of more than your sheep. Tomorrow night, set yourself free.
I want to dance with you in this dress. My only condition is that I pick the time.
Yours,
M
March carefully untied the ribbon and folded it neatly. When she opened the first box, she inhaled sharply. Inside, a silk chemise and the faintest pair of pink clocked stockings lay nestled in exquisite rose-scented paper. Accompanying the stockings were the softest silken ties she’d ever seen.
She was almost afraid to touch the delicate fabric since her rough hands would undoubtedly mar the weave if it caught on her callouses. There was only one solution—when she prepared for tomorrow night’s ball, she’d ask for assistance when she dressed. The duchess had kindly assigned two lady’s maids to her and her sisters during their stay.
The next box was slightly larger. It contained an elegantly embroidered pair of stays that perfectly matched the chemise. Since this was a studier garment, she allowed herself to pet the soft fabric and caress the intricate pale pink and green flowers. The pattern was reminiscent of her old court dress, but much more intricately detailed. She took a deep breath and sighed. He must have told his mother about her dress.
With her lips tugging upward, she opened the third box. Inside the white paper, a pale-pink pair of dancing slippers decorated with seed pearls scattered throughout the silk begged to be touched. Reverently, she removed them from the box and discovered they were a perfect fit.
Finally, she opened the last box, the biggest of the four. When she uncovered the wrappings, her heart pounded, and she pressed her eyes shut. She carefully pulled out the most exquisite gown she’d ever laid eyes on. Made from the same blush-colored velvet she’d admired in Mademoiselle Mignon’s shop, the gown was the height of fashion. Cap sleeves met with a décolletage that dipped low. The lowered waist would emphasize her flat stomach while the slightly fuller skirt would hide her generous hips. It was daring and bold but with a hint of innocence that she loved.
Wearing such a dream ensemble would make her feel feminine for the first time in her life. A matching velvet wrap was included in the box with another note from Michael. Just in case we stroll outside were the only words on the card.
Unable to contain her joy, she burst into laughter. In her entire life, she’d never received such an elegant gift. For a moment, the thought that she shouldn’t accept the dress and the accompaniments stole her happiness—a joy she was starting to recognize regularly came from Michael.
Quickly, her common sense came to the forefront and pushed the hint of impropriety away. If the duchess had helped Michael shop for the magnificent clothing before her, who was she to refuse?
She held the dress to her body and stood before the floor-to-ceiling mirror that faced the wardrobe. Instinctively, she swayed as she hummed a little ditty her mother had taught her.
It was a shame society’s strictures dictated she could share only two dances with Michael. If any more, The Midnight Cryer, the biggest gossip rag in all of England, would declare them married the next morning.
However, in her heart, a hope refused to grow quiet. She had truly started to care for the lovely man.
Indeed, he was a friend. But could she dare to hope for more?
She climbed into bed and refused to allow the lovely evening be ruined by her doubts. For the first time in her life, she allowed herself to imagine and enjoy the dream of a husband and marriage.
She closed her eyes and imagined her husband lowering his lips to hers for a kiss. Before the generous curve of his mouth touched hers, she glanced in his face.
It was her David.