Lord Grisdale would require me to do that with him, to breed his heirs and service his masculine needs.
The thought sickened me, but I had as much say in it as the nag horse in the barn.
“Heavens, Benedicta. Look at your hair.” My mother’s voice trembled, a reedy sound of disapproval and sudden nerves. “This won’t do, and I don’t have time to repair it.”
The lady’s maid had spent the past hour wrestling my wild blond coils into a presentable pile on my head. The waist-length tresses, thicker and more unruly than my mother’s, were already working themselves free from the pins. Wayward spirals sprung in every direction and dangled rebelliously around my ears.
I didn’t care about my appearance, but it had a crippling effect on my mother. Her hands balled at her sides. Cords stretched in her stiff neck, and the hope that had brightened her eyes only moments before vanished behind shadows of dismay.
My throat thickened.
Oh, how I wished for her happiness. I didn’t know what a smile would look like on her aristocratic face or how the sound of laughter would alter her voice. But maybe it was obtainable.
Maybe if I cooperated. Just this once.
“You mustn’t keep him waiting.” I leaned toward the mirror and tackled my hair. “I’ll fix this.”
As I added more pins, she didn’t move. Her presence loomed behind me, silent and uncertain.
“Mother?” I glanced over my shoulder.
“This is important to me.” Her eyes narrowed.
“I know, my lady.”
Her expression softened. Until something caught her attention on my neck.
She reached for it, snatching the thin chain I’d tried to conceal beneath the lace choker. The pendant lay against my spine, hidden by the stays.
“Why are you wearing this?” She yanked on the necklace, attempting to break it.
“Don’t.” I caught her wrist in a bruising grip, stopping her from harming my most treasured possession.
Her eyes flared, but she surrendered her hold on the chain. “Is that the bauble you received from that savage native last year?”
That was the story I’d given her. She couldn’t know the truth about how I acquired it, what it meant to me, or the pledge I’d made to never take it off.
“Yes.” I closed my hand around the jade pendant, protecting it from her criticism.
“Remove it.”
Never.
“Forgive me.” I let my posture sag and carefully arranged my lips around a lie. “I forgot to put it away, but I’ll do that—” I twisted the lace choker, pretending to work the chain free. “Blast it, it’s tangled.”
“We don’t have time for this.” Livid red rose across her cheeks as she reached for my neck.
“Go.” I stepped back. “I’ll put everything back in order and join you in a trice.”
She glanced at the door and drew in a breath. And another. Shoulders squared, head held high, she composed herself into a portrait of social grace.
“Don’t delay.” She cast me a withering glare. “And if I see that disgraceful necklace again, I shall tie your wrists with it and have you flogged.”
In a swish of lavender silk, she breezed into the hall and shut the door behind her.
A rush of air vacated my lungs, and I opened my hand, cradling the precious pendant in my palm.
Crowned by a filigree band of gold, the green stone was the length of my thumb and half as narrow. Serrated cuts decorated dozens of mysterious facets as if it had been painstakingly sawed from the earth.
I’d never seen anything so unrefined and magical.
As a child of English nobility, I’d been weaned on restrictive clothing, polished smiles, and the art of dissembling. But my heart belonged on a ship with the seafarer who’d given me a jade stone and loved me for who I was. Impulsive. Wild. Rebellious.
I returned the pendant to its hiding place beneath my garments and plastered my curls into a mold of proper English fashion.
It wouldn’t kill me to look like a lady. But if the marquess liked what he saw, a wedding would go forth and kill my dreams.
If I sabotaged this introduction, there would be other suitors. Other offers. And a flogging, to be certain.
I could endure the flogging. It was my mother’s sadness that knotted my stomach in an endless loop. I shouldn’t make her work so hard to be happy. She’d pushed me into this world, and I’d been pushing back ever since. No wonder she never smiled.
With a hard shake of my head, I tested the subdued array of blond curls.
Then I heard it. The distant bark of a dog. I froze, listening with my entire being, as a second dog joined in.
My pulse careened into a gallop.
Could it be? Had I imagined it?
I darted to the window, bumping the pannier into furniture and knocking over a lamp. At the sill, I pressed my brow to the glass and studied the landscape.
Acres of woodland lay between the rear of the estate and the coast. The barking came again, and I tracked the sound to the northern edge of the tree line.
Two hounds raced back and forth, yelping their message, loudly and persistently, as they were trained to do.
His hounds.
His messengers.
I choked upon air.
“He returned.” I stumbled away from the window, spinning awkwardly in the cage of my gown. “Oh, Lord, he’s here.”
If I didn’t follow his hounds, I would miss him. If I missed him, more months would pass. More seasons. Another year. I couldn’t bear the thought.
My heart labored. If I left, the countess would pound the pudding out of me.
I whirled back to the window and gritted my teeth. “Then a pounding it shall be.”
Knowing full well the consequences of what I was about to do, I should have felt the devil’s claws digging around in my stomach. I should have been terrified.
But laughter swelled in me. My cheeks ached to hold it in. The prospect of seeing the only person who ever truly loved me sent my heart into a dizzying whirl.
With no time to spare, I gathered the skirts to my hips and sifted through cotton and ruffles, grunting until my fingers found the buckle at my waist.
When the pannier hit the floor, I tore off the stockings and darted to the bed. From beneath the frame, I removed a linen-wrapped package and carried it to the door.
The master of the house was visiting friends in the New York colony. Since he and his wife traveled with most of the servants, my departure might go unnoticed.
Creeping barefoot into the hall and down the stairs, I evaded detection. Good fortune followed me into the drawing-room, past the study, and through a maze of companionways. Not one person, from footman to butler to liveried maid, thwarted my getaway.
Until I reached the blue parlor and the sound of my mother’s voice.
“When will you return to England, my lord?”
“Within a month,” he said. “Sooner if there’s a wedding to anticipate.”
“You won’t find a more suitable bride. And since her grandfather was an earl, she has excellent breeding.”
“I look forward to making her acquaintance. She was quite stunning from my view on the pier.”
Hidden around the corner, I bit down on my cheek.
What could his lordship possibly find stunning about a fourteen-year-old girl?