Chapter 17
That Harry Brudenall makes me so angry sometimes.
Now, I am not only a spoiled brat, but now I haven’t even a feminine or delicate bone in my body!
Of course, I cannot even try to deny this.
With no one but the lads as playmates as a child and nary a female influence in my life before Richard wed Abby, what might he expect?
Even then, they were so wrapped up in one another, so in love and with a babe of their own, I could not intrude upon their time.
I don’t resent their inattention. I was always quite happy for them. It was like watching a fairytale, to see true love unfold before one’s very eyes! It makes my heart ache still to see them so happy. Then to see such a miracle happen for Francis and then Vin as well has been a joy for me.
But I envy them as well. I want such a love for myself. I want it with Harry. I want to feel like Abby, Eve, and Moira look every day.
If only he wanted it as well...
~From the diary of Lady Fiona MacKintosh—Mar 1893
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Taking Fiona’s arm firmly as if he anticipated either fight or flight, the marquis led her to the perimeter of the dance floor where other partnered pairs were gathering.
As the music began, Aylesbury allowed her only a moment to loop her train over her wrist before he took her in his arms, drawing her close.
Electricity sparked between them, leaving Fiona tingling from breast to thigh, and he wasn’t even touching her. This was going to be unbearable!
“Not so tight,” Fiona hissed, imposing more space between them as he moved her across the floor.
Aylesbury just pulled her closer until her breasts brushed across his chest as they dipped and rotated in time to the music.
Only then did Fiona realize that the dance was a Venetian waltz, quite possibly her most favored and romanticized dance.
A dance that, years ago, had Aylesbury waltzing her through all her daydreams with a roguish grin.
Gritting her teeth with the determination to remain unyielding in his embrace now, Fiona stiffly followed the marquis’s lead into the twirling dance, endeavoring almost impossibly not to enjoy herself as Aylesbury was an excellent dance partner, not only because he was practiced in the steps but because he seemed to truly enjoy it as well.
She remembered that much clearly, though they had only danced together once before, a lively polonaise during the welcome home ball held for her brother Vin when he returned from Egypt.
After that night, Aylesbury had never again asked her.
..though she also recalled spending a humiliating amount of effort hinting at him to do so.
Never beyond her wistful imaginings had Harry Brudenall held her so snuggly in his arms or turned her so dizzyingly that she longed to cling to him, to close her eyes and relish the warmth of his body pressed so close to hers.
That he chose to do so now when it was the last thing she wanted only made her want to draw her flagging anger desperately around herself.
“I would beware of Harrowby. He has a reputation as something of a Lothario.”
Fiona snorted rudely in disbelief but said nothing else, keeping her face turned resolutely away from him.
“Of course, it would not require a libertine’s disposition to be taken by you,” he added. “You look lovely tonight, my dear. Scrumptious, in fact.”
“What are you doing, Harry?”
“Ah, finally we’re on a first name basis once again,” he responded with one of those irresistible grins that tended to melt her resolve. Still, she clung to her antagonism firmly, determined to resist him.
“We are not on a first name basis, Lord Aylesbury,” she snapped. “Nor shall we ever be. Now I want to know what you think you’re about, appearing out of nowhere everywhere I go, being so nice and courteous and...and...”
“Flirtaceous?” he supplied. “Complimentary? Attentive?”
“Yes, all of that. What are you about?”
“Isn’t it obvious, my dear?” he said silkily, bending his head to whisper in her ear. “I’m courting you.”
She drew back as far as his arms would allow. “You are not!”
“But I am,” he said with a devil-may-care smile. “Though I must be doing a poor job if you could not ascertain my purpose. I shall endeavor to improve my performance.”
“Lord Aylesbury, you’ve done so much courting in your life that I’m quite certain you could manage a bang-up job of it from a solitary cell in Bedlam with nothing more than a handful of weeds and an imaginary hat to aid you, but what I meant was no, as in no you are not courting me.
I do not wish it, nor will I permit it,” she finished bluntly.
“I believe there may have been a compliment in there somewhere,” Aylesbury said with another smile as he whirled her around the perimeter of the room once more.
Fiona shook her head with a scowl, refusing to be swayed by that alluring smile. “We talked about this. I thought I made myself quite clear on the matter. I cannot forgive. Not now. Perhaps not ever.”
“You made your feelings very clear, but I have decided that I will not be dissuaded. You see, meeting you again has brought joy to my heart. A joy I had forgotten life could give. A joy I had nearly forgotten you could give.”
“Balderdash. That isn’t how I remember it at all.”
“How do you remember it?”
“I remember you calling me a spoiled brat,” she said, unable to completely suppress the hurt in her voice. “I remember you telling me to run off like a good little lass and play with my dolls.”
“I apologize. I did say all that,” he admitted. “But only for my own self-preservation.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“You really don’t know, do you? You don’t know how hard it was?” Aylesbury smiled ruefully down at her with a shake of his head. “I suppose it was better that way. If you had known, I cannot imagine what lengths you would have gone through to try my sanity.”
“Humph!”
“Did you never wonder why I never asked you to dance again after Vin’s welcome home ball?
Ah, Fiona,” he whispered throatily in her ear, sending a shiver of awareness through her.
His hand slid downward to settle like a hot brand at the base of her spine, pulling her closer.
“I always wondered what it would be like to waltz with you, but I could do nothing more than that. It would have been terrible to hold you like this, to touch you and not have you.”
She stumbled at his words but righted herself quickly with his assistance. Her eyes locked with his now, though she was frowning fiercely.
“I had to fight against you once, but no more.”
Fiona had no idea what he meant, but she refused to allow one iota of confusion pave the way for another broken heart.
“You are making no sense at all.” She turned her gaze away from his once more, determined to watch the other dancers rather than him.
“You did more than fight against me. You rejected me.”
“You have no idea the impossible situation you put me in, do you?”
“What I do know is that you cannot rewrite history,” she countered to hide the confusion his words had born. “Let’s just get through this dance and be done with one another for good.”
“I have no intention of being done with you. I intend to make up for the shabby way I once treated you,” he assured her firmly. “And I will begin with waltzes, flowers, and walks in the park, my dear. Because I do intend to court you properly now when I could not before.”
“Could not?” she scoffed, though she felt her heart quivering at the promise of his words. “What is that supposed to mean? You weren’t unable to do so. You didn’t want to. It was as simple as that!”
“No, it was not that simple,” he countered tightly, his impatience flaring at her intractability. “What would you have had me do back then? Hmm? You were an unschooled debutante.”
“You didn’t kiss me like one!” Her loud retort the curious glances of the couples around them, but Aylesbury only tossed them a careless grin before returning his gaze to her more seriously.
“No, I kissed you like the torment you were,” he bit out, his fingertips pressing into her spine. “I kissed you with all the frustration that had been building in me since the day I met you.”
“Is that what that was? Frustration? How flattering.”
“Rather.” His tone softened then. “I shouldn’t have done it at any rate. My heart, mind, and body were all in contradiction at that time, but never doubt, Fiona, that I wanted you then as I want you now.”
“No!” She shook her head, denying his words even while her chest tightened painfully. “Don’t do that, Harry. You haven’t the right to come back into my life now when I’m finally happy again and ruin it for me.”
“Are you truly so happy?”
“I am. I don’t need you anymore.”
“What if I were to say that I need you?”
It was a gently phrased question yet utterly heartrending in its impact.
Fiona knew that the shock that stole her breath and froze her heart also widened her eyes incredulously.
Then, her pulse tore off at a gallop, trampling a wide swath of wild exhilaration, but she reined it in mercilessly. “No.”
“Fiona, I...”
“No!”
Not waiting to hear anything more, she stepped out of his arms mid-turn and walked away, leaving him standing alone in the middle of the dance floor.
Whispers and giggles followed her as she worked her way through the crowd and out of the ballroom until she was nearly running down the stairs to the foyer below.