Chapter Nineteen
OSMUND DEVERELL IS TO JOIN our party?Muriel’s hand trembled as she reached for her crystal glass of water. Tess and Vivienne sent her compassionate, discreet smiles while Elena was … beaming at her? She stole a second glance at the woman. The little minx knew he was coming. I’d bet my best bonnet she sent for him after the viscount’s attentiveness to me this week, despite my obvious disdain for the man. So much for our alliance.
“I see you are all about to set off on a lark, judging from the line of curricles, gigs, and carriages outside.” His voice sparkled, and she did not doubt his enthusiastic smile was blazing down the breakfast table, enchanting every member of their party as the men took their seats.
She kept her eyes firmly on the sticky bun that had lost all appeal. Lord, how am I to survive this blow? Will I never outrun the shame of a single reckless deed? I had hoped Erik would somehow forget and forgive me for it, but with the man in his house reminding Erik at every turn of my folly? Erik will never wish for me to be his wife.
“You must join us for our outing! Do say he may join.” Elena directed her plea to Erik.
“I wouldn’t think of denying it. Another vehicle shall be ordered.” With a nod, Erik signaled to a footman, who disappeared at once.
“We have already drawn the names. There weren’t enough gentlemen for all of us ladies to have a partner, so your timing is quite fortuitous,” Elena cooed. “Perhaps, as you are my cousin, we should consider switching our pairings?”
“Excellent idea,” Erik interjected, looking to Muriel as if he were planning on rescuing her.
But Elena wasn’t finished. She looked at Muriel. “Viscount Sullivan and I shall ride together, leaving your old friend free to ride with you.” Elena folded her hands around her teacup, her eyes dancing.
Erik stiffened, no doubt at her audacity in taking charge of his house party.
Muriel fought against the urge to flee the room as all turned to her.
“Miss Beau,” Deverell said, “it is delightful to see you again and looking so well. I would be honored with such an arrangement, if you would allow it?” He bowed his head to her.
She forced herself to meet his gaze, the full force of the weeks between them fading, and all that remained was the raw memory of his sound rejection and her abject humiliation in the Chilham assembly hall.
“Will you join me, Miss Beau?” he queried once more.
She had waited too long. She had to say yes, no matter how much she wished to escape. Was this how he had felt on the dance floor? Forced to offer a positive response when all he wished was to flee? But, no. She was unwilling to believe he had felt nothing for her back then. He had said things—led her to believe he enjoyed her company. She offered him a light smile. “Of course, Baron.”
“It’s settled then.” Elena clapped.
Erik rose and the guests hurried from their chairs, eager for the ride ahead.
Deverell slowly crossed the room and held the back of her chair. Her skin prickled at his nearness, her stomach twisting at this nightmare come true. Baron Deverell was being forced to be with her by circumstances and not by choice. She nodded her thanks to him and followed the guests as they filed out the front door to the line of buggies awaiting them. Another conveyance pulled from the carriage house as the staff distributed the ladies’ and gentlemen’s hats and wraps.
She stood stiffly away from Deverell, but close enough to acknowledge they were riding together. In truth, she felt as if she could melt into the earth. She glanced sideways and started at Elena’s nearness.
Elena towed her aside. “What do you think of my surprise?”
“This is how you thank someone?” Muriel snorted. “I’d hate to see how you handle someone you feel slighted you.”
Elena’s trilling laughter drew Deverell’s eye. She touched Muriel’s arm and whispered, “Trust me, my dear Muriel. I have things well in hand.”
“I trusted you once and in doing so, I ended up here,” Muriel muttered under her breath as Elena sauntered away and possessively threaded her hand through Viscount Sullivan’s arm.
A curricle approached and parked before Muriel and Deverell. She swallowed back a sigh. Lord, let me bear this, and let me not make matters worse for both of us. She looked up at the narrow seat perched above the pair of giant wheels and cringed. There would be no pressing herself to one side to avoid all contact with him. With the brisk pace required to reach their destination in time for all the day’s games and a luncheon, she would need to be firmly planted beside him if she wished to avoid being tossed out and trampled. She never particularly enjoyed curricle races, but she had pretended to when the baron had called on her so many months ago. She could hardly cry off now without revealing the depth of her former infatuation with him.
Baron Deverell offered her his hand. She braced herself, placed her hand in his, and climbed as confidently as Tess might, cringing as she accidentally flashed an ankle before the baron, praying he did not think she did so on purpose. He hoisted himself beside her, and she at once felt the old familiarity return. They had ridden so often in his curricle about Kent that if she closed her eyes, she could easily imagine this was one of dozens of rides she had enjoyed with a man who had become such a dear friend after that wretched day in Dover with her former fiancé.
As the men guided their horses to the road, Deverell lingered until they were the last in position before following the troupe at a brisk trot. She dared a glance to her companion, finding the baron’s jaw clenched, a sure sign of his discomfort. If someone were to begin speaking, it needed to be her.
“How is your family, Baron?”
“In good health, I assure you,” he responded stiffly. She would not fault him, as the whole situation was difficult and of her making. “And your family?”
“You would know better than I, as you have come from Kent yourself. It has been too long since I’ve been home.”
He chuckled. “Indeed. I’m happy to report they are well. Declan is growing quickly. I saw him briefly during my last business meeting with your father.”
Declan.The ache in her chest roared to life. She had tried not to dwell upon missing his infant months. That had been the hardest element of leaving home, her dear brothers. She cleared the emotion from her throat and, without thinking, continued, “And Miss Fox? Have you settled a date for your upcoming nuptials?” Why? her mind screamed at her. Why did she feel the need to speak of such things? You might have asked about his mother. His business. Anything but Miss Fox, you bottlehead!
His brows shot up to the brim of his hat, his grip slacking on the ribbons before he flicked his hat back to see her more fully. “Have you not heard? She is married.”
Muriel’s stomach dropped with a bump in the road, and she gasped. “What? To another? But Miss Fox was so devoted to you.”
“Apparently not as much as she led me or society to believe. She was using me to conceal her true motives. She was secretly engaged to a soldier, and the moment he returned from duty, which was about a week after your departure, she absconded with him to Gretna Green, where they wed before the blacksmith’s anvil. It was quite the talk of the county. I am surprised your family did not alert you in their letters.” He snapped the reins, bringing their curricle closer to the final carriage in the group.
She knew why they had not alerted her. They’d likely feared Muriel would abandon her opportunity in London and return home to fall at his feet once more—a ridiculous notion, but one she deserved after the way she had behaved. Is that why her friends hadn’t told her either? She glanced toward Vivienne, clinging onto Erik’s arm to avoid being shaken out of the curricle as she chatted, her cheeks pink from the sharp wind rolling over the hill. “I’m sorry your courtship did not advance as you intended, Baron.”
He frowned. “Must you keep calling me Baron? I feel as if you do not think of our time together at all.”
She twisted in her seat to see if he was in cruel jest. “How could you even consider I do not think on it?” It has been pressing on my every breath, and it is only by the greatest amount of prayer I can put it from my mind.
He frowned. “To begin, you did not seem pleased to see me.”
“A fact you deduced how?” She crossed her arms, but at once uncrossed them to grip the side of the curricle.
“You would not even meet my gaze when I entered the breakfast room, which was most disheartening. Why do you think I came for my cousin days before I was required?”
“Because your horse was swifter afoot than you gave him credit for, along with the fair weather that led to good roads?”
He met her gaze, the earnestness in it startling her. “I came to see you, Muriel.”
She focused on her lap, twisting her gloves in her hands. Why was he acting as if their parting had not wrenched her heart in two? As if he had not rejected her soundly? “And why, pray tell, did you wish to see me?”
“After Miss Fox departed with her new husband, I was free to explore our relationship once more. I have not forgotten your request.” He pulled back on the reins, dropping them far behind the last carriage in the tight line. “In fact, it is something I think about every time I open my eyes. It is my greatest regret that the choices I made led to your unhappiness and to your departure to London. I know how much you love Chilham and how much pain you must have been in to leave it and your family in pursuit of the unknown.”
Her cheeks burned. “My unhappiness was my own doing. I wish you would forget my forwardness. I do not know what came over me that day. I fiercely regret my boldness.”
“Do you?” He rested his hand with the fist of ribbons on his knee and tossed his beaver hat into the curricle well, taking her in as if he couldn’t keep himself from her another moment. “Because, you see, I do not regret your display of affection. I only regret I was not free to answer favorably at the time.” He nodded to Erik, who was looking over his shoulder at them, no doubt wondering what was keeping them. “I heard the earl has been most attentive. Do you have an understanding with him?”
Was he asking if she were free? And if so, why? Deverell had had his chance with her. If he were telling the truth in that he felt honor bound to wed Miss Fox and had not accepted her proposal because of it, perhaps there was hope for redemption in the greatest way possible? Was this what Elena had meant in trusting her? She followed his study of Erik, and her infatuation for the baron seemed childish in light of how well she knew this captain nobleman who only wished to be her friend and yet protected her with a fierceness that spoke of much more.
“Has he spoken of his intentions toward you?” he repeated.
“No. We do not have an understanding. He is not interested in me in that manner.”
“Not interested in you, eh?” He chuckled, flicking the reins. “Then why, Miss Beau, is the earl constantly checking over his shoulder to see if I have returned to our place in line?”
He’s worried for me.She reminded her heart that Erik had taken her in because of his friendship with her guardians and the lurking danger of a fortune hunter. “He’s simply being a concerned host. Perhaps you should catch up to the rest of the party to save what little reputation I have managed to salvage.”
Deverell grinned. “Only if you return to calling me Osmund.”
“Very well, Osmund.”
He slapped the reins, passing the Ingrams, Elena’s curricle, Tess’s, and drew alongside the earl and Vivienne. Vivienne’s eyes widened as she sent Muriel a smile, silently asking if she were well. However, with Erik directly beside her friend, Muriel was incapable of disclosing anything. She smiled tightly and waved as they raced past.
Deverell released a whoop and sent his horse into a full gallop, assuming the lead position. With a cry, she held onto her bonnet and the side of the curricle, praying she didn’t tumble out and get trampled by the earl’s horse, which would indeed prove the most tragic ending to her desperate tale.