Chapter 2
Two
Minnie tripped along, floating on air. Judging by Mr. Stonebeck’s wink, there was no emergency the housekeeper needed her for. His words were merely a ruse to get her alone, and quickly.
She shivered at the warmth of his hand pressing against the small of her back, steering her away from everyone. The front hall at night was brightly lit by moonlight, and a handsome gentleman had stolen her away from the drawing room. Hopefully to steal a kiss.
She tried to smile up at the handsome Frederick Stonebeck, but the firm hand at her back compelling her down the hall made a complete turn impossible.
She had to settle for fluttering her lashes at him over her shoulder—as she’d seen other women do—and hope he understood.
But it was likely too dark in the hall for him to see, and he seemed to be in an uncharacteristic hurry.
He was the last man she’d expected to show any particular interest in her, but she was glad.
She’d secretly admired Frederick Stonebeck from afar for a while but had never once managed to catch his eye or his interest before tonight.
She had feared he was pursuing Mrs. Franks, the widow whose name was on everyone’s lips.
They suddenly stopped by a window, and Frederick urged her behind the curtains. Moonlight bathed them in pale radiance in their private bower…but Frederick’s face was serious, rather than smiling as he looked down upon her.
“Well?”
“Yes, well,” he said, lips pursing. “It seemed wise to get you away from everyone.” He suddenly cupped her face between his warm palms and stared deeply into her eyes. “How do you feel?”
“Wonderful.” Excited and surprised, too. She clutched at his lapels and pouted her lips, but his hands dropped away from her face as he stepped back into the shadows with a grunt.
“I’m not surprised. Can you walk up the stairs?”
Although disappointed not to be kissed right now, she immediately hooked her arm through his, happy to wait a little longer. She could hardly believe this was happening at last! “We can go together.”
“We shouldn’t be seen together…but yes, perhaps it would be best if I came with you now.”
She hugged his arm even tighter. Frederick Stonebeck was perfect in her eyes, and the best of her brother’s wayward friends.
She liked him so much better than Thomas Moore, who seemed to be interested in her, too, tonight.
She knew Frederick was the right man for her, though.
He had a good heart. He was perfect just the way he was.
“I know just the place. Come with me now.”
She took him by the hand and led him out of the alcove and into a hidden staircase that took them directly up to her own secret sitting room.
No one ever used this room but her. Even better, few knew of its existence.
It was her private bower, looking out upon the drive but without a door on the upper floor, which was how it had been forgotten.
She turned to face Frederick once they got there, breathless with anticipation. “There’s nowhere more private in the house than this.”
He didn’t look around. “How do you feel now?”
“Even better than before.” She moved closer to him and set her hands on his wide chest. “No one will come looking for us here.”
“Good.” He caught her hands and pushed her back to sit on the settee. “You’re going to need some time to recover. You’re not yourself.”
She laughed merrily. “Why am I not myself?”
“Because the punch was spiked with gin, judging by the waft of scent coming off you now, and the fact that you foolishly brought a rake to this room to be alone with you.”
She put a hand over her mouth and tried to smell her breath. “I smell?”
“Not so much that anyone else would notice. But that was not your usual laugh tonight, either.”
She cocked her head, puzzled. “How do you know what my usual laugh sounds like?”
“It’s softer, and Moore has never made you or anyone else laugh like that before without them suffering a similar disadvantage.
” He shrugged. “You must have drunk four glasses by my count in quick succession, and it’s gone to your head completely.
Your defenses are down, inhibitions lowered.
I want you to remain here for an hour at the very least. Or perhaps you’d like to retire to your bedchamber to recover? ”
She gaped at him in silence for a long moment as understanding dawned on her. She did feel like she was floating. She’d never felt so happy before, in fact.
But then crushing disappointment crashed over her. He wasn’t going to kiss her tonight…and likely never thought of doing so.
She swallowed the hard lump in her throat and wet her lips. “You brought me up here to leave me here alone.”
“To protect you,” he promised.
“From what?”
“Embarrassment.” Frederick turned away, pacing around the small room. “From Thomas Moore’s hands, too. I know what he intended for you tonight by plying you with more punch. Trust me, he does not have marriage on his mind.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because he told me, many times, that he’d sooner die than bend his knee,” he explained. “All my friends feel that way.”
Minerva was offended by his disdain for marriage, but she made herself laugh in the face of unpleasantness, as she always did. “That is not true. When they meet the right woman, your friends will sing a different tune. Cassel, Dunsworth and Forman were your best friends. They all married.”
“Those were exceptional circumstances,” he conceded after a moment.
“Yes, they fell in love!” she insisted.
“That is not the case with Moore or you—and please lower your voice in case someone hears us,” he begged.
“Why should I?” She smiled at him…and he winced. “Oh, because you don’t want to marry, either. Especially not someone like me.”
“I did not say that,” he promised.
But she couldn’t believe him.
“You’re inebriated and not thinking clearly. Your brother would not like me to be alone with you. He will say—”
“I know what my brother says to potential suitors,” she complained, and then smiled as if it didn’t hurt. “I’m sure your bachelorhood is quite safe from entrapment.”
He turned slowly, frowning at her. “What does your brother say to your suitors?”
“Oh, a great many ridiculous things I won’t bother to bore you with.”
He took a pace toward her. “Minerva…what did he say to your suitors?”
“I don’t know word for word what he says to them, but I know the effect it has. After a little talk with Humphrey, they all beg my forgiveness and never call on me again. My brother scares everyone away, and he is solely responsible for every failed romance I’ve ever had.”
“No!”
“Yes. I’m surprised you haven’t heard the talk already,” she said, then laughed bitterly. “But then, you haven’t shown any interest in me at all, have you?”
He shook his head. “I cannot believe they apologize for leading you on. Why would they do that?”
“Oh, because I’m such a good sport and harmless.
They thank me, too. Or thank my brother, really.
If not for Humphrey setting them on a different path, they’d never have met and married their current wives.
They’d never be so happy, not being married to me,” she complained quietly, and then shrugged.
Knowing what she knew of those men now, she wasn’t entirely bitter about the loss of their attention, or about not having married them in the end. Most had made their wives unhappy, instead of her. She ought to be thankful for her narrow escapes.
She glanced at Frederick and realized he was just like them.
A man with no serious intentions toward anyone.
He lived for immediate pleasures, and she wasn’t one of them.
She had wished he might have been different.
But this too would probably be a narrow escape—provided they were not found alone together.
The humiliation she’d feel over him might be greater, though.
“You’d better run away, sir. The widow will be getting cold without you. ”
He pursed his lips and folded his arms across his wide chest. He couldn’t intimidate her, she knew him too well for that to occur, but he might tempt her to forgive him far too easily. “I never said—”
“You didn’t have to. I’m not blind to her appeal.
” She quickly lowered her eyes. “Yes, all the bachelors are eager to cheer up the sad lady downstairs. Despite my mistake tonight, I know how you bachelors think about women. Widows don’t expect a marriage proposal and are the safer choice for a dalliance. ”
He laughed softly. “You are a strange woman, but not wrong.”
“Strange and bound to be a spinster forever,” she said, and burst to her feet, full of frustration and anger at her situation. Yet she spoiled the effect of her outrage by wobbling enough that Frederick reached for her arm to steady her.
She pulled herself, reluctantly, out of his grip. “I think I will retire for the night, after all. I’m not feeling well.”
“Eat something. It will help settle your stomach,” he suggested.
“Yes, I’ll just feed my disappointment with yet another generous late supper like I’ve always done and add another inch round my middle.”
“I like your curves,” he admitted, flashing her a cheeky smile as he looked her over from head to toe.
Although she blushed, flattered by the flirtation, she couldn’t believe a word he said about her figure.
She wasn’t the type of woman Frederick usually pursued.
She’d known that for years and years but had forgotten tonight.
Frederick Stonebeck normally pursued tall, willowy widows by default.
Someone he couldn’t be forced into marrying if they were found in a compromising position.
But she appreciated that he would try to soften the blow to her ego by pretending he might fancy her a little. It made her slightly less disappointed in his lack of interest. She couldn’t change how she looked. If she were taller, maybe he would have found her more appealing.