Mary cringed as her cousin entered the coach. The dark shadow at the corner of Valois’s eye and the awful blue-purple discoloring on his cheek marred his otherwise handsome features. After the age of thirteen, she hadn’t had cause to actually hit a person. Her brothers had ceased agreeing to spar with her as soon as she developed buds on her chest. It was obvious that despite her lack of practice she was still extremely proficient at defending herself.
Covering her slightly swollen knuckles with her left hand, Mary focused on not fidgeting and blurting the question that plagued her. What had prompted him to attempt to kiss her? She had tossed the early-morning hours away trying to deduce a logical explanation for his behavior. Except her thoughts were preoccupied with Gilbert and his kisses.
“Bonjour, ma chérie.”
Mary jumped at Valois’s greeting. “Good morning to you, cousin.” She quickly turned her gaze out the window.
The coach was surrounded by a large contingent of men on horseback. Scanning the group, her pulse raced.
At the sharp rap of Valois’s hand against the coach, Mary started. Breath hitched, she swiveled to sit back against the plush squabs of the coach bench.
Valois chuckled. “I am surprised your lords allowed you to accompany me alone.”
“They both prefer to be out of doors and ride.”
“And you?”
At the teasing tone of Valois’s question, Mary raised her gaze to his. Her cousin’s smile was back to that of a friend. If she wanted him to be open, honest, and forthright with her, she would have to treat him the same. “I too prefer to travel by horse, but that would not allow me the opportunity to get to know you.”
Wide-eyed, Valois asked, “Ah. But for what purpose? Is a proposal what you seek from me?”
Mary blinked twice. “Proposal? Of marriage?”
“Oui.”
She studied her cousin’s features. There was no hint of amusement or teasing. “Do you find me attractive?”
Valois’s gaze roamed over her features. “Mais oui. You are very beautiful, ma chérie.”
The man needed his sight checked. She was no beauty. Unlike her brothers, who were blessed with blond hair and striking blue eyes, she had been born with dull brown eyes and hair. “Is that all you require of your duchess? To be easy on the eyes?”
“Better for me to produce heirs.” His stare did not waiver. “But you do not look at me like a husband, oui?”
The mention of heirs had Mary panicking. “No. Yes.”
Her cousin’s English was, at times, a little confusing. She needed to turn the conversation to safer topics, or at least to topics that would allow her to gain the information she’d promised Gilbert she would obtain. She fidgeted with the tassels on her cloak while she calmed her nerves and realigned her thoughts.
Ready to take on the task of extracting as much information as she could, she lifted her gaze back to Valois. The muscles in her neck relaxed. Valois had once again adopted the features of a confidant and friend. If she were to ask now, would he answer her questions regarding his dealings with the evil Lord Burke, or should she wait?
Valois rested the back of his head against the plush squabs of the coach and closed his eyes. “Plenty of time, ma chérie. It will take us a little over two days to reach our destination.”
Had he read her mind?
Eyes remaining shut, he answered her unspoken question. “They are afraid you will remain stubborn.”
“Who are you referring to?”
“You know who. The ones you choose to ignore.”
He couldn’t possibly be referring to Phillip, Lady Frances, and the others. It hadn’t been her choice. “Ignore. They left me! Poof. Disappeared. I’ve tried to contact them.”
“That is not how it works. They never leave. You are the one who silenced them.”
Mary released the tassel, which she had managed to reduce to a mangled piece of material, and clasped her hands tight in her lap. Valois spoke the truth. Her aunt Agnes had mentioned the same thing—she was the only one capable of banishing the spirits.
Tapping her cousin on the knee, Mary asked, “How do I get them back?”
Unmoved, Valois only asked a question of his own. “Do you really want to see your brother again?”
“Of course!”
As Mary sat back, she reflected that the truth was she had enjoyed the night devoid of voices. Free of guilt, snuggled warmly in Gilbert’s arms.
“I don’t believe you, and neither does he.”
“Can you see Phillip, now?” She whisked her head to the empty space beside her.
“Ma chérie, I have my eyes closed, I see no one.”
The man was being obtuse. “But you can hear them.”
“Oui. Of course.” Valois’s head rolled slightly from side to side. “The silence— would be strange, non?”
“I admit it was at first.” Mary smiled as she explained. “To hear only the sound of the carriage wheels along the path. The snorts from the horses. Knowing the only voices I could hear were those of the physical plane. It is rather refreshing.”
Valois popped his head up. “Interesting. Those sounds you are talking about; I cannot hear them.
“That is because it is near impossible to hear anything but their voices. I admit I do miss the advice of a few.”
“I am afraid I listen too much despite my suspicions.”
Recalling the advice of Aunt Agnes, Mary said, “They can only advise. It is you who acts.”
“Wise woman.” He tugged on his elegantly designed coat sleeves before crossing his arms across his chest. Letting his head fall back to rest against the cushioned seat, he closed his eyes once more. “Time to rest. I am told you did not get much rest last night. We shall discuss matters after luncheon.”
His advisors were mistaken. She was, in fact, well-rested. Mary had slumbered like a babe in Gilbert’s secure arms. Without all the racket in her mind, she had drifted to sleep relatively fast.
She stared at Valois, intrigued by his relaxed appearance. Her cousin’s carriage was well sprung and a comfortable temperature with the carriage windows open, but how was he able to relax and banish the voices so quickly?
Valois’s head bobbed about without care until it came to rest against the coach wall. Mary studied his features. Relaxed, he easily could have been mistaken for Phillip. She blinked. Were her eyes playing a trick on her?
While Valois’s skin was a slightly darker shade, his hair color, the angle of his nose, and the slight protrusion of his ears were remarkably similar to Phillip’s.
Thank goodness she had reacted as she had last eve. Kissing him now would be like kissing her brother. She closed her eyes, attempting to dispel the image and the queasy feeling in her stomach. Focusing only on the drum of horse hooves rhythmically hitting the ground, she smiled and relaxed her head against the coach sidewall.
Gilbert rode close to the open window, but no voices emerged. They were still an hour or so from the coaching inn where they had planned to stop for luncheon. It was too quiet in the coach. He wanted to lean over and pull back the drapes.
Hadfield came up alongside him. “Let them be.”
“It is too quiet in there. Mary promised to obtain information.”
“Give her time. She has to build trust. It wouldn’t do to just come out and accuse the man of consorting with the enemy. We have at least another day and a half to ride.”
“What are they doing then?”
“Resting would be my guess. By the looks of those dark circles under your eyes, Lady Mary needs to get some sleep.”
Irritated by the man’s statement, Gilbert snapped, “She slept fine.”
Hadfield had the annoying habit of simply arching a single eyebrow when he sought out specifics. Gilbert wasn’t going to supply more details than necessary.
He returned the nonverbal question with a shrug.
When Hadfield remained obstinately quiet, Gilbert declared, “I’ll need your assistance in arranging a ceremony once we have completed our assignment.”
“Are you telling me Lady Mary has agreed to marry you?”
Gilbert wanted to bow his head in defeat. His deep-seated distaste of arranged marriages surfaced again. “Not exactly. Mary has agreed to my courting her for the duration of our trip.” He sat straighter in his seat to dispel the unwanted nervousness that had him doubting if Mary would eventually choose him for a husband. “She will be my wife by the end of our journey.”
“We shall have to wait and see. I will only assist you if the woman willingly agrees to the union. Why the change of heart?”
“Not so much a change of heart. Rather, I have finally accepted the decision that had been made for me a long time ago.” Heaving a sigh, Gilbert continued, “Wasn’t it you who said Mary’s reputation would be in tatters? I won’t let that happen to her, and— the woman has always intrigued me.”
Slowing his mount, Hadfield turned to face Gilbert. “What are you talking about?”
“Years ago, Mary’s brother invited me to their home during a holiday while we were at Cambridge. Phillip had been ranting on about his sister since the very first day I met him at Eton. For years I had heard how Mary had not only inherited her mama’s good looks but was also highly intelligent and even tempered—qualities Phillip was aware I was seeking in a wife. My own family has a reputation for making rather rash decisions out of pride or stupidity.”
“Yet, you are not at all temperamental.”
Gilbert shrugged. “I must hide it well then.”
For years Gilbert had worked hard to eradicate any and all similarity to his papa. The man who sired him had neglected both his mama and him for years. A stabbing pain hit him right in the middle of his chest. Tarnation! Gilbert paused for a breath. He had acted as sinfully careless toward Mary as his papa had toward his strong, intelligent mama.
“Extremely.” Hadfield’s singular response hung in the air.
Gilbert inhaled deeply through his nose before continued with his story. “From the very first moment I stepped onto the ducal estate, I was plagued by a heavy weight upon my shoulders. It was if my future would be dictated by the events of that visit. Strange thoughts of meeting my future spouse consumed my mind. I was only nineteen at the time. I wasn’t ready to be tied down. I wanted to choose the lady who would become the next Countess Waterford. But the old hag, their aunt Agnes, declared me to be the one, and that was that. Ever since she placed that curse on me, the Masterson family treated me as one of their own. At first, I was delighted, not having any siblings, to be welcomed into such a warm, loving family. Mary was not simply pretty. The chit literally took my breath away. But it felt like someone else had deemed it so, and I, in my youthful stupidity, rebelled. I used her confession of talking to and seeing the dead as a lame excuse to refuse the hand that had been given to me.”
“Lady Mary is a— what is it called?”
“I’m not sure there is a name.” He looked at Hadfield. “Don’t tell me you believe in such nonsense.”
“There are things in this world that cannot be simply explained. Lady Mary never struck me as the sort to lie or make up stories. If she says she can, then I believe her.”
Then I believe her. Gilbert’s blood pressure rose. It was what Mary said she wanted—someone to believe in her. He would not let Hadfield take her away from him. After having Mary in his arms and savoring her peaceful effect on his rioting thoughts and emotions, he knew with all his heart that she was meant for him. Him and no one else. Especially not Hadfield.
Gilbert would have to convince Mary he was worthy of her hand. But could he give her what she most desired—an unwavering belief in her?