Jade Lee (12 page)

It didn’t matter that he hadn’t intended for this to happen. Not exactly. He’d meant to seduce her, but keep her a virgin. Then he’d meant to propose to her as an honorable man. He’d meant to give her the choice in her suitors. The seduction had merely been a means to get her to notice him, to see his worth, and yes, to tempt her into saying yes.

But now he’d gone too far. He didn’t blame her. She’d been innocent before he’d set upon this course. And he could have stopped it at any time, but he hadn’t wanted to. And then it had been too late. So how did he make it right?

“Don’t come tomorrow.”

She stirred sleepily in his arms. “Hmmm?”

“Give me a day, Jo. I… I need to prepare the room.”

She shifted against him, slowly raising up. “Room? What room?”

He shook his head. Her face was in shadows, but he was close enough to smell her skin, to feel her heat, and to know that it would take the barest shift in her body for him to be embedded within her again.

“I’ll explain the day after tomorrow.”

“At one?”

“Yes.”

“Will we meet here tomorrow night again?”

He swallowed. How could he refuse her? Then suddenly her face crumpled and she drew back. “Oh no, I can’t. I’d forgotten that Megan wants to sort dresses. That will take all afternoon and then she always wants to talk until late.”

“Sort dresses?”

“Yes. We look for rips and stains and the like. Then we start talking about the balls we wore the gowns to, about what happened and who said what.” She shrugged, the movement sending currents of fire along his body. “It’s silly, but it’s fun.”

“But not as fun as this?” he asked.

She grinned as she twisted. “Not even close.” Then she kissed him. It was an impetuous movement, wild and quick. But he caught her and held her close. Then he deepened the kiss.

The deed was done already. There was no further harm in making sure she remembered this night. So he kissed her. And while he did, he worked his hands between her thighs. She opened easily for him, her breath already growing tight.

By the time the night was done, she would know the feel of every part of him inside her. After all, she already had his heart. Why not give her all? “Will?” she whispered between kisses.

“Hmmm?”

“There’s more, isn’t there?”

He grinned. “Lie back, Jo. Let me show you a little more.”

Will asked for her hand the very next morning. He presented himself in his cleanest clothes, stood hat in hand before her father, and asked for permission to pay his addresses to Josephine.

Her father showed him the door. No explanation, no excuses. Just a single order: “Go finish the canal. That’s the only way a Crowle will ever get any of my land.”

Will thought of the tiny parcel of land that had been promised him if he finished the canal by fall. At one time, it had seemed to be everything to him. A new start, and this time in
his
name, not his brother’s nor his father’s. His and his alone.

Now it seemed like nothing at all.

He was halfway to the canal when he heard it. A boom that rumbled through the land and his body at the same time. He knew what it was before he took his next breath. It was God’s just punishment. To him for throwing away his honor last night. And to Lord Lawton because of the man’s damned impatience.

It was the canal breaking apart. Sabotage, Mother Nature, or God Almighty didn’t matter. And like any fool fighting his destiny, Will threw himself into the raging river and tried to salvage his future.

***

Josephine slept in blissful contentment. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d woken feeling so happy. What she and Will had done last night consumed her thoughts and had her humming as she dressed. Sadly, she had missed breakfast by several hours, but there was always something at the table, especially during the summer when food was plentiful and everyone’s hours were unpredictable.

She took her time getting out of bed, her mind and her body flush with everything that had happened last night. She was even sore from her exertions. Imagine feeling sore from something that was so absolutely wonderful!

But there was a shadow on her happy mood. Something that would bother her greatly if she thought about it. So she absolutely decided not to think about it. Not yet. Not when she couldn’t stop grinning.

Of course, everything that had happened was a secret. She had to moderate her bubbly delight. She also created an excuse. She and Megan were planning on sorting gowns today. That was always fun, so she could just blame her giddy delight on that. Although truthfully, she was much more excited about seeing Will again tonight. Oh wait, not tonight. She sighed. Not until tomorrow afternoon. Oh, it would be an interminable wait!

She didn’t notice the unnatural silence at first. She was too busy with her own thoughts. But by the time she rang for her maid, she had begun to feel as if something was wrong. The house was too quiet. She couldn’t hear the chatter of voices or the deeper rumble of the men. That was it, she realized as she opened her bedroom door, she couldn’t hear any of the men.

Then Megan appeared, her face tight with worry, and Josephine’s entire body tightened with alarm.

“What is it?” she demanded. “What has happened?”

“It’s the canal,” her sister said. “Didn’t you hear the boom? It shook the whole house.”

“Boom? No. I heard the thunder.”

Megan shook her head. “No thunder, though it’ll start raining any minute now. It was something else.”

Josephine crossed to the window. Her sister was right. It wasn’t raining, but it would soon. The sky was dark and ominous, but so far the land was dry. “What happened?” she whispered. But even as she asked, she began to piece things together. A boom could only mean something had broken. A lock, probably. But… a boom? Just a lock breaking wouldn’t make enough noise to shake the whole house. Then Megan confirmed her worst fears.

“An explosion, we think. Papa and all the men have gone to help. We’re to stay behind until it’s safe, but everyone’s worried—”

Josephine didn’t stay to hear the rest. She pulled on her easiest gown and heaviest boots. Then while Megan was telling her—over and over—that Papa had ordered then to stay back at the house, Josephine dashed outside. Her horse was gone. Likely taken by someone else to help at the canal, so she simply ran. As fast as she could.

She arrived gasping, her chest burning and her legs half crumpling beneath her only to discover that no one was there. She’d naturally run to the place where the men
had
been working, to the last canal locks, but no one was there. And now that she was catching her breath, she realized that the burn in her lungs hadn’t just been from her run, but because there was smoke in the air.

Turning, she headed upriver to where the completed locks were. It didn’t take long for her to realize what had happened. Their largest lock was blown apart. As if it had been hit by lightning. Or, she slowly realized, as if someone had exploded a barrel of gunpowder on the near side. She couldn’t imagine anything else that could scatter a lock into broken and burning pieces of debris. There were plenty of people working—men and women alike, though it was mostly men. They were gathering the pieces, clearing the land, and generally looking grim.

She found her father quickly enough. He was standing next to Mr. Montgomery, pointing to the broken lock. They were talking, though Alastair was stripping out of his shirt. Apparently he intended to join the workers in the water. Josephine barely noticed. Her gaze had already traveled across the banks, seeing some women picking up debris while the men were wrestling with the heavier pieces. She saw the foreman was knee deep in muck and directing others away from the edge.

She moved closer, searching for Will even as she tallied the damage. Fortunately no one appeared hurt, but even she could see the lock was unstable. Something had blown a gaping hole through it, which left the edges black and broken. But what appeared most dangerous was a whole section of the far side of the lock. The logs were barely holding together and as there had been storms upriver, the water was rushing fast through here. The remaining side could break free at any moment. Anyone caught downriver from that could be killed if it broke free.

“’Ey miss! Help me!”

The call came from her right. A woman—Miss Amy Fenton, newly engaged to one of the workers—was trying to drag a thick bit of log out of the path along the water. It wasn’t big, but it had caught on another piece. There were bits of debris everywhere clogging the way. Josephine joined the woman and together they started dragging pieces away, taking them to the growing pile set to the side.

“Have you seen Will? Er, Mr. Benton?”

Amy nodded and pointed. “He’s under the water, trying to shore up the pieces.”

Josephine looked. She saw Alastair, now scrambling along the edge, half in the water, but she didn’t see Will. Until she did. Suddenly his head popped up, gasping and pushing on the broken logs. She cried out when she saw him, but not in fear. The sound was more relief that he was alive and apparently safe.

She watched, her hand pressed to her mouth, as he heaved himself out of the water. His expression was grim as he spoke to Alastair, pointing and talking. She couldn’t hear him, of course. He was too far away, and besides, the rains had started. She hadn’t even noticed at first, but all too soon she realized her face was wet and her dress was heavy against her legs.

She looked up, as did many others. As often happened in Yorkshire, the rains came fast. Drizzle turned into rain which became a downpour in a matter of minutes. Men cursed and slogged out of the water. Women drew back under the scattered protection of the trees. The only one who didn’t leave the water was Will. And right beside him came Alastair, both on the dangerous side of the lock.

“What are they doing?”

No one answered her. She saw that everyone else had moved away from the river. Everyone else was looking on grim and angry at the sky. Everyone except for Will and Alastair. She found her father and the foreman on the far side of the bank. Father was gesturing and bellowing at the foreman who was just shaking his head. Whatever Father wanted, the foreman was telling him it wouldn’t work.

And then it happened. The sound was a groan, but of wood and metal giving way. The broken part of the lock teetered, then sunk. No splash that she could see. And no Will as the huge piece picked up speed as it half rolled, half floated downriver. She’d been staring right at him. She saw his grimace at the noise. And then the piece was washing away and he was gone. Just gone.

She rushed forward, screaming as she went. “Will! Will!”

Amy grabbed her arm, keeping her back from the slick bank. Josephine wanted to shake her off, but what would be the point? She couldn’t swim. Not in those storm-swollen waters. She could only stand by the side and pray.

To her right she heard a woman cry out and point. One glance told her it was Nanny, looking as wet and shaken as Jo felt. She was pointing to the water where a man appeared as he clawed his way out of the water. It was on the near bank, so Jo was able to strain forward. Some men were there before her, helping him out. It took an agonizingly long time before they separated enough for her to see. But finally they stepped back, and Josephine nearly cursed in frustration. It was Alastair. He was covered in mud, and she saw crimson mixed in with the water, so she knew he’d been hurt. Nanny was at his side, seeing to the man’s pain, so Josephine turned away.

Where was Will?

Amy answered her, gripping her arm and twisting her to look far downstream. “Over there! Down there, Miss Josephine. He’s fine.”

Jo rushed forward, looking to see. She couldn’t find him at first. Not through the rain and press of bodies, but then she saw him. On the opposite side of the river, looking filthy, angry, and healthy. No blood. No broken bones that she could tell. Only furious Will, pushing people off him as he stomped up the bank.

She was so relieved her knees went out. Amy kept her standing, but only barely. And then—from all the way across the river—he saw her. She saw him jerk, saw him grimace as if his head pained him, and then he took a step forward. A single step, but the river was between them.

They stood there like that, eyes locked together, while everything else faded from her mind. There was Will—alive and strong. And she was so far away from him.

Then she felt a touch on her shoulders. A strong grip that pulled her back. She turned, meaning to snap at whomever had hold of her. She meant to find a way across the river. The bridge was back a ways—

It was Alastair, his expression grim, his mouth pulled into a flat line. Beside him stood Nanny, her fingers twisting in her skirt. Jo swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. Fortunately, she was spared any need to speak. His words were dark and angry as he forcibly turned her toward the woods.

“This is no place for you, Josephine.”

“I—”

“I will take you both home. Now.” There was no compromise in his voice or his expression. He was furious, and she knew better than to disobey. Not in front of the entire village. And certainly not when the man was her fiancé. But still she couldn’t stop herself. So she looked back at the opposite bank. She saw Will immediately, still watching her. And she saw her father, looking as furious as Alastair, but his anger was aimed at Will.

There was nothing for her to do then. Will would face her father and the destroyed lock. She would have to deal with a rightly livid fiancé. And they would do it on opposite sides of the Lawton land.

What a bloody mess.

No one spoke on the ride home. Alastair had simply lifted the women onto horses, grabbed one himself, and silently followed the ladies home. He didn’t speak, and a single glance at his profile showed he was rigid with anger. Nanny looked as miserable as Josephine felt.

After they reached the manor house, he ordered baths for the women before turning around and going back to the canal. It was still raining hard, so Josephine didn’t know what he expected to accomplish, but whatever it was, the message was clear. The men would handle the canal. The ladies were to wait at home.

So they did while Mama clucked and Megan regarded her with sad eyes. Josephine didn’t speak. How could she? The guilt was crushing her while the rest of the day passed in a tedious, awful parade of slow seconds.

The rain stopped sometime in the afternoon. Her father came back by evening, but was too exhausted to speak. She and Megan stood in the hallway outside his bedroom door, shamelessly eavesdropping while he and their mother spoke.

The lock was destroyed. There was no chance that the canal would be finished by September. It was likely sabotage, and Will had a relatively clear idea who had done it. In fact, Alastair was even now out searching for the blackguards.

He didn’t tell Mama what Josephine had done. He didn’t say that she’d been staring across the water at Will, not obeying her fiancé. He didn’t say anything except that the canal would not be done by September and that all his plans were ruined. Her mother asked why. After all, she still thought Alastair intended to marry her. Father disabused her of the idea by simply saying he wasn’t so sure of Mr. Montgomery’s intentions right then. Because, of course, she had been there looking at Will.

It was too much, the guilt too awful. In the end, Josephine crept away to stare out the window at the dark night, her body and her mind restless with anxiety. Usually, she’d go to the creek to sit or to scream, whichever suited her mood better. But Will wouldn’t be there tonight. Everyone had been ordered to their beds—Will included—because in the morning, there would be plenty of work to do at the canal.

She might have gone anyway, but the rain picked up. The woods would be a muddy mess. And… well, she didn’t know what she would say to the man. She had to settle things with Alastair first. So she sat in her bedroom and stewed, passing a horrible night wrapped in a blanket as she stared out the window.

She woke to sunshine that hurt her eyes. Her body ached, and it took some moments to uncurl from her position by the window. One glance outside told her she’d slept most of the morning away. So she dressed as quickly as she was able—not even bothering to call her maid—and headed to find out any news she could. She found it at the breakfast table, and not in the guise she wanted: Alastair. He was seated at the table drinking coffee as he read a stack of newspapers which must have arrived this morning from London. He looked as he always did: fair of face, broad of form, and tempting as sin. At least that’s what Megan had said of him, along with a host of other silly phrases. Mostly he looked as a gentleman ought: calm, well dressed, and smiling coolly as he bid her good morning.

Then, of course, he saw the horror on her face. She tried to cover it, but she was very bad at acting. Her greeting was a forced mumble, and then—face flaming—she sat down and asked the footman for something to eat. When the servant tried to ask what she would like, she shook her head, unable to think of anything.

In the end, she muttered, “Anything Cook has available. And tea, please. Strong, strong tea.” Then she glanced nervously at her fiancé and released a nervous titter that sounded horrid. “What happened, Alastair? Did you find the people who…”

“Sabotaged the lock? Yes, we did. It wasn’t hard to track them. The men in question are in custody.”

She swallowed. “Someone from here? Someone who didn’t like—”

“All the men? All the work? All the to-do in this sleepy Yorkshire village? Yes. But rest assured, it’s done now. The canal will go on as planned. Though the work has been set back a great deal.”

She nodded. And here they were back to the problem at hand. Her dowry, the canal, and would she wed a man she did not love. That was the realization she’d come to in the middle of the night. In truth, it had nothing to do with Alastair. She had known from the very beginning that she didn’t love him. After all, she barely knew him. She was happy to marry him because she didn’t love anyone else.

But now she did. She loved Will and probably had been in love with him for a very long time. Which meant that she had to end things with Alastair before they became any more entrenched.

“Alastair—” she began, only to have him interrupt her.

“Your father came to speak with me this morning. As soon as I rose.”

She blinked, trying to keep pace with the conversation. In the end, all she could manage was a weak “Oh?”

“He wants us to be married next week.”

“Next week!” she gasped. She stared at him, but could read nothing from his expression. “I don’t understand. I thought we had to wait until fall when the property can be added to my dowry. I thought the papers had already been filed but that it would take weeks to settle properly.”

“That’s all correct. He assured me that everything would go through as planned. The land would still come to me, even if the courts take a while to sort through everything. But now that the canal will never be done by September, he worries that I will back out of our arrangement. So he wants us wed as soon as possible as a way to lock me in, so to speak.”

Josephine took a fortifying gulp of her tea, but it did nothing to calm her thoughts. “How gratifying to know that he has my best interests at heart.” Her words were bitter, her heart even more so. Her father was terrified that she would never wed.

Alastair grimaced. “I believe he has spent too much time in India. You understand that his time there generated a great deal of money for him extremely quickly.”

She nodded. Yes, her father was rather unseemly sometimes in his pride at making all that money. “But what has that to do with anything?”

“I think he has forgotten that wealth has a slower pace in England.”

“It’s tied to the land,” she said, remembering some of the discussions she’d had with Will.

“And the land’s profit follows nature’s rules, not man’s. Of course there are other ways of making money. Factories, for example. The world is changing, and the way to wealth is shifting along with it.”

She sighed. “But I still don’t understand. What is that to the point?”

He was silent a long time. And as he sat, he toyed with his cup of coffee, twisting it in the saucer. “I believe it is because your steward spoke with your father yesterday. He asked permission to pay his addresses to you.”

She gasped, her mind suddenly reeling. Will had asked for her hand? Well of course he had! What they had done that night—

“Your father showed him the door. I believe he had some choice words to say about the Crowle name.”

Josephine winced. “How awful for Will,” she murmured. Certainly his family’s reputation was not the best. But Will wasn’t like the other Crowles. Why couldn’t her father see that?

“No doubt he is used to it. I have been here barely more than a week, and yet I have heard countless tales of the feckless Crowles.”

She shook her head. “The locals exaggerate—”

“I should think so.”

“And besides, Will has never done any of that.”

“Yes, I am aware.”

His tone was excruciatingly dry, and Josephine experienced a shot of alarm. There was something in his voice. Suspicion perhaps? Did he know what she had done with Will? He couldn’t, and yet there was something in his face. Something that did not bode well for her.

“Alastair? What did you say to Papa?”

“I told him no. I find that impatience leads to bad decisions.”

She exhaled in relief. At least she would not be wed before she could sort things out for herself.

“And I also told him I wished to speak with you.” He leaned forward, setting his forearms on the white tablecloth. “Josephine, are you aware your father promised Will a piece of property if the canal is done by summer’s end?”

She nodded. She knew.

“Since the canal has no hope of being finished in time, the only way for your steward to get the land he wants is by marrying you.”

She stared at the man, her jaw slack. Then she blinked, her face flushing hot. “But he wouldn’t do that! He’s not… ” She cut off her words abruptly, stopping them before she said too much. But Alastair wouldn’t let her get away with silence.

He steepled his fingers and looked hard at her. “He’s not what, Josephine? Pray do not parse your words now.”

She grimaced. Fine, he wanted the truth, she would say it baldly to his face. “He’s not a gentleman like you. He doesn’t think about land and dowries and…” She gestured wildly in his direction. “He doesn’t think like that.”

But even as she said the words, she knew it was a lie. She absolutely did know that he thought about land. In fact, Will’s driving force had been to find a way to rebuild the Crowle name. And the first step in that was to get back the Crowle land. What better way to do that than to seduce her, then expose her, then marry her?

The only reason he hadn’t told everyone what they’d done was because the land didn’t end up in her dowry until the end of the summer. He couldn’t risk her father finding out and then changing the terms of her dowry.

“But he’s not like that,” she whispered. But in her heart, she wondered.

“Are you so sure?” Alastair challenged. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

Her gaze jumped to his face. “What way? How?”

His lips twisted into a wry grimace. “Like a poor man looks through a blocked iron gate. There’s hunger and desperation.”

“No. That’s not Will.”

“I assure you, it is.”

She pushed up to her feet, unable to sit still. But where was she to go? She stood there uncertainly, not wanting to leave the room. Alastair was speaking plainly to her. She didn’t want to abandon this discussion. And it wasn’t as if she could run to Will and demand the truth. Had he seduced her for her dowry? Did he feel nothing for her at all?

So she walked awkwardly to the window, staring out at the green expanse before her. And beyond that to the unfinished canal that she couldn’t see. “Is everything about property?” she asked.

She hadn’t intended the words to be for anyone but herself, but Alastair answered her. He was standing up. She could hear the scrape of his chair, but she didn’t turn to look at him. Not even when he touched her shoulder.

“Did you know that I am counted quite a good judge of character?”

She frowned. Another leap in the conversation. She had no interest in following it, so she didn’t answer. In the end, he kept speaking until he eventually came around to his point.

“I am. They say I read people very well, but in this, they are very wrong.”

She sighed, drawn into his words only because they distracted her from her whirling thoughts. “You do not understand people?”

“Goodness, no. I understand situations. And I have a general idea of what people want. Based on that information, I make good guesses.”

She shrugged. She didn’t see what that meant to her at all.

“Let me explain. I want a political career. That means a financial base in your dowry and a wife who will be an asset.”

She grimaced. She would never fit that particular mold.

“Your father wants you married well and as soon as possible. That is his impatience showing, I think, so he contacted me some months ago. Your steward wants your land as well, but I think he wants you too.”

She swallowed. She certainly hoped that was true. She would hate to think she had no allure to anyone beyond her dowry. And the idea that Will could touch her the way he had, all simply for the land? That was too painful a thought to believe.

“But in all this, Josephine, I have yet to see what you want.” He released a short laugh filled with self-disgust. “Women are a mystery to me, I’m afraid. I cannot guess what they think or want.”

“Then we are a pair,” she murmured, “because I cannot understand how men could want so little.”

He jolted at that. She saw his body jerk out of the corner of her eye. He was close enough to touch her. The sunlight from the window was on his face. But he kept himself apart from her, and for that she was thankful.

“Josephine?”

She turned to face him, speaking aloud as she sorted out her thoughts. “I cannot speak to ‘women,’ Alastair, but I can say what I want. I want my father to cease worrying over my married state. I want my mother to stop despairing over my lack of polish. I want this restlessness in my heart to disappear. And I want…”
Will.
She wanted Will to love her and cherish her outside of any damned dowry.

His eyes narrowed in on her face. “Do not stop now. What do you want Josephine?”

She grimaced. “Something a great deal more than a hobby.” But what that was, she couldn’t say. And neither could he as he simply looked at her, his brow furrowed in thought. So she decided it was time to take control of her life as never before. “Alastair, I am afraid we will not suit. I cannot marry you. I wish you the very best, but I have no desire to marry you.”

He nodded. Once. A simple jerk of his chin, followed soon after by a brief bow. Then he straightened. “I will pack my bags immediately.” And then he left. That quickly, that easily. Her engagement was done. That fact might have depressed her if she hadn’t somewhere else to go. Immediately. So she went in search of her father. He wasn’t the one she really wanted to see, but he would do for a start.

She found him in his office, as usual. He looked up with a frown when she walked in without preamble. She didn’t give him time to speak.

“We will
not
move up the date of my wedding, Papa.”

He grimaced. “Sweetheart—”

“And you do not get to decide whom I marry.”

His face darkened at that. “You heard about Will’s request.”

“I should have heard it from you.”