Teresa’s stomach did a somersault. “All right.” She dismissed the footman then went to the sideboard and poured two cups of tea. “Do sit.”
Sorcha’s face was grim. “I dinna wish to marry, Teresa. I think ye ken it, but ye’ve niver asked me why.”
She had avoided doing so. Knowing Sorcha’s reason for avoiding marriage might make her task more difficult, and her brother intended her to marry anyway.
Just as her parents had intended her to marry Mr. Waldon.
An obstruction seemed to lodge in her throat. She shook her head.
“I’ve so many ideas for our family’s land. We anly lack the capital to make the improvements.” Sorcha sat forward till she was on the edge of the chair.
“But that’s all changed nou. Mr. Baker-Frye wants to invest in ma brither’s estate. He says he’s always had a yearning to be a gentleman farmer, but his family’s business came to him an he’s got to keep it going. Moira told him aboot the troubles we’ve had an he’s gone to talk wi’ Duncan this morning.”
“This is wonderful news!”
“But dinna ye see? I wish to continue as steward o’ our family’s lands. I’ve worked so hard. To be sent away nou to be housewifie to some laird . . .” She shook her head. “I canna do it.”
Teresa nodded slowly, heaviness surrounding her heart. “You must tell your brother.”
“I’ve long since told him. He willna listen. Ye’ve got to convince him that he mustn’t force me to wed.”
“He thinks I’m too meddlesome. My intervention would be more likely to hinder your case than help it.” But looking into Sorcha’s entreating eyes now she knew that even if the earl did not relent in his wish for his sister to wed, she must change her course. She could not be the reason that any woman did not live her dreams, even if it meant abandoning hers.
“’Tis no as ye say, Teresa. Ma brither thinks highly o’ ye. He’ll listen to ye if ye speak for me.”
She drew a long breath. “I will try to help you.”
Sorcha clasped her hand for a moment only, her grip strong and certain.
“Thank ye, friend.” She stood, then she paused. “But . . . I’ve no told ye all.”
Teresa’s stomach tightened. “Oh?”
“’Tis for no small purpose Duncan wishes me to wed. The Eads title an lands can descend by the female line. He wants me to inherit from him. He wants me to wed an bear sons so that ma sister Elspeth, next in line, will niver come into the land.”
“But why doesn’t he—”
“He’ll no marry again.” A crease formed between her dark brows. “I think ye care for ma brither, an it pains me to speak nou. But if he didna wed an heiress to save his lands, Teresa, he’ll no wed anyone for any reason. When our sister Miranda died, then anly months later the birthing took his wifie an wee son, I think he died inside some too.”
“His . . .
“Aye. Nou do ye see?”
She nodded. Finally she saw all too clearly.
At lunch she did not encourage Tobias’s confidences. If he and Una wished to fritter away their chance at happiness, she would not stand in the way of that tragedy.
She’d made an appointment with two of the brides-to-be, so to lift her spirits she dressed in her favorite walking gown, a frock of pink pinstriped muslin with tiny puff sleeves and a net fichu, and went to the hotel.
None of the Eads ladies were to be found in the parlor or their bedchambers, so she ducked into the servants’ stairwell and went below. The kitchen was quiet, with only Monsieur Le Coq and Lily by stove. Lily stirred the contents of a pot in slow, wide circles.
“Guid day, Teresa!” She hefted the pan and set it on the counter. “I’ve been teaching Marcel hou to cook taffy. Ye’ve come just in time.”
“Mm. Delicious.” Teresa settled on a high stool and watched Lily scrape her treasure into a flat pan.
“Care for a taste, mademoiselle?” The chef snagged a thick dollop of sugared butter from the bowl and proffered it to her with a bow.
She had no heart for confections at present. But the taffy was rich and sweet and stuck to her fingers, then somehow to her cheek and brow too.
She set her elbow on the counter and her chin on her palm. “So much for donning my finery for the modiste’s shop.”
Lily giggled. It lightened Teresa’s heart. Joy could be found in little things.
She would take comfort in that when this adventure was over and she was home again.
“Have you seen Moira or Abigail about?” she asked. “I was to go with them to the modiste’s.”
“Didna Moira’s message find ye at home? The modiste hasna finished the gowns, so they all went aff to the tea room wi’ Mrs. Caruthers.”
“Leaving you here to cook?”
“’Tisn’t a penance.” She offered a twinkling smile to the Frenchman. He lifted her hand and placed a fervent kiss upon it. “They hoped ye’d join them,” Lily added over her shoulder.
“Perhaps after I have another bite of this delicacy.” Perhaps not at all.
Perhaps she would go straight home, pack her portmanteau, and return to Harrows Court Crossing and the remainder of her life there. At least it wouldn’t be spent as Mr. Waldon’s wife.
That notion at least made her smile. Her smile widened as the lovebirds stared into each other’s eyes.
She was seizing the moment of their distraction to lick taffy off a forefinger when Lord Eads appeared in the kitchen doorway. Her finger slid from between her lips with a pop.
A slow grin curved up one side of his mouth.
Annie had once told her that men liked to imagine things in women’s mouths—for what reason, Teresa never quite discovered. So, because she would not again have the opportunity to test this, she slipped her middle finger into her mouth and sucked on it.
His grin disappeared.
“Duncan!” Lily said. “Do come taste the taffy.”
He strode into the kitchen. “Forgive me for declining, but I’ve need o’ Miss Finch-Freeworth upstairs.” He grasped her hand and drew her toward the door. She tossed a shrug to Lily and the chef and allowed him to pull her into the narrow servants’ stairwell.
“What is happening upst—” He caught her mouth beneath his.
It was a hungry kiss, and she met it with all the desperate desire she felt for him but had thought she would never again be able to satisfy. Her hands found his arms then his chest. When she slipped them beneath his coat to explore the contours of muscle through his shirt she thought he would stop her. Instead a deep rumble of encouragement sounded in his chest. It set off a throbbing ache inside her. His hands cupped her behind and he dragged her against him.
She gasped and broke free of his mouth. “Are you doing this only because I licked my fingers?”
He replied with a series of kisses that grew increasingly deep and culminated in her moaning softly and struggling to press even closer to him.
“Five,” he said against her cheek.
“I only licked two.” He stroked the tender inner crease of her thigh and pleasure swamped her. “Clearly I should have found a batch of taffy weeks ago,” she panted.
“Elspeth is five.”
The import of his words penetrated her pleasure. She pushed him away with her palms.
“
“Yer parents will be disappointed.” The grin that lurked at the corner of his delicious mouth nearly got the best of her. Mind whirling, she fought against desire
“My parents? Whatever—” Her mouth dropped open. “Mr. Waldon!”
“Aye, Waldon.” He seemed to search her face. She supposed she looked as stunned as she felt. She could not fathom it.
Then abruptly it seemed the most obvious thing in the world.
Her heartbeats lurched into a gallop.
