May 1821
Dahlia stood beside Ronan in the entry hall of their now decorated home, delighted to be hosting their first party, an afternoon tea. The day was bright and pleasant for what Dahlia hoped would be a casual gathering of friends and family. She was so proud of the work she’d done to bring out the beautiful features of the house and restore it to its original glory.
Adding to the festive air was the fact that so many of her cousins and even her sister, Holly, were sporting telltale tummy bulges that boded of new little Farthingales and Braydens soon to come along. “Your Uncle George is going to have his hands full come summer,” Ronan murmured against her ear.
She was delighted for Holly, and her cousins, Honey, Violet, and Belle. Not to mention Dillie and Daisy were also expecting. But what brought tears to her eyes was the news that Ronan’s cousin, James, and his Sophie, were going to have their first child. After all their years of marriage, they had almost given up hope. “We dared not say anything to anyone until now,” Sophie confided, “but I am four months along. We’re still afraid to talk about it, for this is our miracle baby, isn’t it? However, we wanted the family to know.”
“Congratulations. Have you told Uncle John and Aunt Sophie?” Dahlia did not get a response before their families flocked around Sophie and James, carrying them off into the parlor. But she expected her aunt and uncle had been the first ones told, probably weeks ago. They were the two Sophies - Sophie Farthingale and Sophie Brayden, who was also known as Lady Exmoor - and they had grown to be very close friends.
A few minutes later, Heather came up to her. “Is he here yet?”
Dahlia wasn’t certain who she meant, and then the realization dawned on her. “You’re here with the Marquess of Tilbury. You are betrothed and about to marry him. Who else would you be looking for?”
Her sister tipped her chin up. “Why didn’t you tell me Robbie had resigned his position as Parliament liaison and was returning to Caithness for good? Is this why he disappeared three months ago without a word to me? And now he’s back to wind up his affairs in London and then be gone forever.”
“Why are you overset? I assumed you knew. I gave you The Book of Love shortly after the new year. Have you not read it with him?”
“No.”
Dahlia’s eyes widened in dismay. “You promised you would. Oh, Heather! You promised.”
“Hell,” Ronan said softly. “Why didn’t you, Heather?”
“Because I... Lord Tilbury was courting me, and I saw no need. But I gave the book to Robbie, and I was always available to him if he wanted to discuss any particularly confusing passages.” She clasped her hands and began to wring them. “What’s wrong with the two of you? Why are you frowning at me?”
“You broke your word.” Dahlia wanted to grab her sister by the shoulders and shake her. “Have you read any of the book?”
“Me? Well, no.”
Dahlia wasn’t certain why she was now getting distressed over her sister’s actions. Or rather, inaction. But her stomach was twisted in knots, and she could not shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. She wasn’t certain why she felt this way. After all, the Marquess of Tilbury was a very good man. “You must read it with Robbie. You have to do it before he leaves.”
Ronan put an arm around her waist. “Dahlia, love. It doesn’t matter. Your sister is marrying Tilbury in a few weeks.”
“No, it does. It matters very much. You lied to me, Heather. You promised me you would. You promised.”
Tears sprang in her sister’s eyes. “Don’t be angry with me. I couldn’t bear it if you were. I love you, Dahlia.”
“And I love you. This is why you have to read the book with Robbie.”
“Don’t make me do it. Please, don’t.” Tears were now trailing down Heather’s cheeks. “I’ll fall in love with him if I do, and then I’ll never marry my marquess. And why would you wish me on Robbie? Shouldn’t he have the right to reach for the moon and stars? An earl’s daughter? Or the daughter of a duke? Why would you foist a Yorkshire merchant’s daughter on him?”
She understood her sister’s fears, but her own feelings were powerful, and she was only looking after her sister’s happiness. “The book won’t make you feel anything you don’t already feel, Heather. It isn’t about tricking you into falling in love with the wrong man. It’s about having you understand what true love is all about and finding the right man.”
Dahlia glanced at Ronan, now worried she had overstepped and was breaking her sister’s heart. After all, with Heather’s wedding almost upon them, it was too late for her to break things off with the Marquess of Tilbury.
“The right man? Are you suggesting I haven’t found him? I don’t want to hear another word.” With a sob, Heather turned and fled the house.
Now Dahlia wanted to cry. “Oh, Ronan. We ought to go after her.”
“No, love. She won’t go far. She’ll probably head for the garden in the square and sulk there for a little while. Give her a moment to herself. I’ll go fetch her if she isn’t back in ten minutes.”
Dahlia laughed mirthlessly. “Is it ten minutes yet?”
“Not even ten seconds, Queen Pea.” His arm was still around her waist, now resting there protectively. He knew she was overset, and being Ronan, he was going to protect her even if he thought she was in the wrong.
He must have read her thoughts. “You have the right of it. She broke her promise. But it wasn’t out of immaturity or malice. She broke her oath because she’s desperately afraid of her feelings for Robbie.”
Dahlia looked up at him, loving him more than she could ever convey. “I shouldn’t have said anything. What if I’ve forced her and Robbie together and it turns out Robbie doesn’t want her? I have to find her and apologize.”
“I’ll come with you, love. We both owe her the apology.”
But they had yet to take a step before there was a commotion at the door, and their butler was knocked aside. “Grimsby, what...”
Robbie strode in, carrying an injured Heather in his arms.
Dahlia swooned and would have collapsed if Ronan had not still been holding her.
“Robbie, bloody hell! What happened?”
“Och, Ronan. I’m not sure. The pixie ran straight into the street and almost got run down by a passing carriage.”
“Run down!” Dahlia was going to faint. “This is all my fault. I’ll never forgive myself.”
“She’s fine. No harm done,” Robbie quickly assured, obviously noting Dahlia’s pallor. “I pulled her to safety, but I think she might have twisted her ankle. Why was she running off in tears? What happened to overset her?”
Dahlia swallowed hard. “I scolded her. I shouldn’t have. Please, Robbie. Carry her upstairs to one of the guest bedchambers while I find Uncle George. My poor uncle. We never give him a moment’s rest.” She placed a hand gently on Heather’s arm. “I’ll tell Lord Tilbury you’ve–”
Heather inhaled sharply. “No! I don’t want him to see me like this. Robbie, please take me upstairs. He’ll think I’m a ninny and will never want to marry me.”