A Sister's Secret (9 page)

‘Fifteen minutes, h’m,’ said Captain Burnside. ‘In certain circumstances, even a brief fifteen minutes could be too long, but as your friend I’ll rely on you to be firm, not weak, and to make known to the gentleman your determination to consider nothing except marriage.’

‘Oh, to be sure,’ said Annabelle earnestly. ‘You truly believe he might marry me, that the King would not object?’

‘The King rarely has all his wits about him, and Cumberland’s known, in any case, to be his own master. So don’t let him set up obstacles that don’t exist. Be delicious, certainly, be teasing, but above all be firm.’

‘Captain Burnside, I do declare you a sweet strength to my cause,’ said Annabelle, and alighted.

Tactfully, Captain Burnside drove away, but cast a look back in time to see her closing her parasol as she stepped up into the coach. A hand drew the door to, and curtains veiled the interior happenings.

‘So ye came,’ said Cumberland out of the dimness.

‘I whispered to you last night that I would if I could, and here I am, Your Highness,’ said Annabelle, and her colour rose to see him frankly contemplating the
accessibility of her mouth. ‘I am in hope you will speak to me in serious fashion – oh—’

Her mouth was taken boldly and uncompromisingly. If she had arrived in the coach determined to be proudly firm, as Captain Burnside had advised, that determination became a thing of tatters the moment the duke’s lips made audacious contact with hers. Yet she could not say it was not sweet, for although shockingly bold the kiss was neither bruising nor forceful. It lingered, it finished, her mouth opened to draw breath and was captured again. He had an alarming way of inducing response, of making her lips cling to his. But at least she did not forget to bring her hands up in defence of her bosom.

Releasing her mouth and observing her nervous, improvised shield, Cumberland murmured with laughter, his blind eye looking as amused as his sound one. ‘What’s this? Ye’re denying me an acquaintance with your sweet pair?’

Drawing breath, with the coach on the move, Annabelle said as bravely as she could, ‘Sir, you made your acquaintance all too intimately with them on the last occasion we were alone. I wish to be treated more circumspectly today.’

‘More circumspectly?’ Cumberland, sombrely clad, was a wicked darkness in the gloom of the curtained coach. ‘Upon my soul, ye jump into my carriage, into my arms, pout them at me and then declare them forbidden? Ye’ve a teasing innocence, that ye have.’

‘I protest, Your Highness.’ Annabelle was proudly indignant. ‘I did not jump into your arms, and nor did I ask you to buss me.’

‘But ye came, I dare say, to be affectionate with me, did ye not?’

‘I came, Your Highness, because I do have some affection
for you, and to inform you I’m returning to my home in Charleston. My parents are anxious about me, for I’ve long overstayed my visit.’

The duke looked suitably solemn, although someone more sophisticated than Annabelle would have seen the mockery beneath the façade. To Cumberland, this pretty thing was as transparent as daylight, but still a sweet pawn in the game. For all her sister’s defiant rejection of him, he was still sure he could win the elder by using the younger.

‘Faith,’ he said, ‘parental anxiety is always a prevailing ailment, but not fatal.’

‘You cannot expect my own parents to be indifferent to my welfare,’ said Annabelle, sensitive to his nearness in the seclusion of the coach, which was moving at a slow pace around the park.

‘Ah, it’s your precious virginity they fuss about, is it? Well, God love ye, it’s precious to us all. When d’ye sail?’

‘I haven’t yet decided,’ said Annabelle, ‘but since my prospects here seem uncertain, I shan’t long delay.’

‘Prospects?’ The lack of light in the coach muted the glint in his eye. ‘Prospects, my tender rose, are a mirage, a vision without substance, an illusion. I prefer an objective to a prospect, for an objective is factual, not fanciful, although it ain’t always certain ye’ll achieve it.’

‘Your Highness,’ said Annabelle, ‘do you see me as an objective?’

‘I see ye as a fair flower with delicate petals, and as such worthy of cherishing.’

‘Cherishing?’ Annabelle experienced glowing pleasure.

‘Who could not cherish ye, and lovingly?’ murmured Cumberland.

‘Your Highness, I do declare, those are the sweetest words you have given me.’

‘Well, ye have my affections, Annabelle, that ye have, and since ye haven’t booked your passage home yet, I fancy there’s time to cherish ye now,’ he said, and Annabelle stiffened as a long, strong arm encircled her waist.

‘No, I cannot consent to further intimacies, sir, for such should only be between affianced lovers,’ she said. The arm tightened. ‘Your Highness, I entreat you—’

‘My little dove, accept for the moment that we are lovers, and affianced.’

‘But we are not – oh—’ She could not hold him off. Her lips could not escape his bold mouth, nor her bosom his audacious hand. The warm kiss that weakened her resolve was succeeded by another, and another. Her bosom, dangerously poised as he loosened her bodice, tumbled free. Annabelle gasped against his lips as his hand teased her, caressed her and brought a rosy hue to her white plumpness. The most alarming excitement invested her, an excitement that was a wild warning to her. Her lips broke free and she gasped, ‘No, how can you be so shameless – you must not – I beg you to release me.’

‘A cherishing is shameless?’ said Cumberland. His dark, scarred face expressed new amusement as Annabelle, vividly rosy, covered her breasts with her hands.

‘To kiss me so, and fondle me so – that is dreadfully shameless, Your Highness,’ she breathed, and was not sure if it was the moving coach that was swaying giddily, or herself. ‘And I vow you are making an unkind habit of it.’

‘Well, ye’re a delicious morsel,’ said Cumberland, and then, seeing her seeking agitated refuge for her breasts, he deftly adjusted and secured her bodice, Annabelle palpitating as he rendered her such an intimate service. She scarcely knew where to look. ‘There,’ he smiled, ‘ye’re as good as new.’

‘Sir,’ she gasped, ‘I declare – oh, I never did – such attentions are more embarrassing than your caresses.’

‘I fancy,’ he said, ‘that ye’ll not come fully into my arms unless we’re affianced?’

‘I could not, Your Highness.’

‘Well, since ye’re so enchanting a virgin, damned if I don’t find the notion to my liking,’ said Cumberland, quite sure that if he had a mind to he could land the virgin far more easily than the widow.

Annabelle tingled. It was indisputable, the duke’s desire for her, his wish to have her. Captain Burnside was a clever gentleman. He knew that if the duke desired her enough, she could demand marriage. As the captain had said, it was not as if the duke would ever succeed the King, that it was necessary for him to have a wife of royal blood. The tingling increased.

‘Your Highness, I truly could not surrender except on honourable terms,’ she said.

Cumberland’s smile was laden with satire. ‘Ye gods,’ he murmured, ‘there’s a pretty speech from the prettiest innocent who ever showed herself so roundly to me.’

Her blush took fire. ‘I did not, sir. You uncovered me.’

‘And covered ye up again in all fairness,’ he said. ‘Shall ye ride to my house with me now?’

‘No, I cannot, and nor could I trust myself with you.’

‘Well, I’ll be at my town residence on Friday afternoon,’ said Cumberland.

‘If I can come, Your Highness, I hope you will remember my concern for my future. To meet with you again must mean to talk together, without further intimacies, or I will surely die of embarrassment and confusion. Would you now be so kind as to set me down at the point where you waited for me?’

Cumberland did not argue. He had had his brief
moments with her, and all such moments represented an advance towards the real objective, the winning of her magnificent sister. He knocked on the roof, and his coachman brought the vehicle to a halt where Annabelle had joined him. Cumberland did not show himself, and she alighted without assistance. The coach moved off as soon as he had pulled the door to.

Captain Burnside, who had been following on throughout, brought his pair to a halt, and Annabelle stepped up into the carriage. She smiled charmingly at him, and he smiled cheerfully at her, making no comment for the moment on the fact that her face was slightly flushed, her bonnet slightly askew. She opened up her parasol and he began the drive back to Lady Caroline’s house.

‘A little over the agreed time, young lady,’ he said.

‘Oh, the minutes flew so fast,’ she said.

‘And each one was sweet?’ he enquired.

‘Captain Burnside?’

‘Your bonnet’s a trifle out of place,’ he said.

Annabelle’s ready blush appeared, and she set her bonnet straight. ‘I beg you won’t think the worst of me,’ she said.

‘Oh, I dare say you teased him a little,’ said Captain Burnside, easing the carriage into a stream of traffic, ‘which is the way of any young lady set on provoking a gentleman into declaring himself. And if a few kisses were exchanged as well, so much the better. You’ll have Cumberland ardent to husband you.’

‘Mercy me,’ breathed Annabelle, ‘you are running ahead.’

‘Well,’ said the captain pleasantly, ‘I’m interested in this intriguing relationship you enjoy with Cumberland, and am set on helping you. Did you make desired progress?’

‘I made up my mind,’ said Annabelle; ‘that is progress of a kind. And I am quite determined about it.’

‘Excellent. Ah, determined about what?’

‘About never yielding to him, except as his wife.’

Captain Burnside smiled. Was there ever a young lady more naive? ‘Excellent,’ he said again, refraining from mentioning that her flushed and ruffled look was hardly that of a female who had held Cumberland off. ‘Count on my support and discretion, and regard me as your protector if you weaken.’

‘Oh, but I am resolute, I surely am,’ said Annabelle, enjoying the open look of this area west of the business city. Favoured for its residential appeal by the rich, the famous and the aristocratic, it brought out carriages from frisky, spanking traps to stately coaches on a day like this, and created an atmosphere both colourful and exciting. ‘I vow I can confide to you, Captain Burnside, that although the duke is very ardent, I really don’t wish to – wish to …’

‘Yes, don’t wish to, quite so, quite understood, Annabelle,’ said Captain Burnside. ‘But some young ladies do weaken, despite their resolution, and should be protected from themselves, especially a delightful young lady like you, the sister of Lady Caroline, whom I so admire.’

‘You are so uplifting, Captain,’ said Annabelle; ‘and such a welcome confidant, although I don’t think the duke would actually …’ She hesitated.

‘Naturally,’ said Captain Burnside with cheerful frankness, ‘he wouldn’t pull you into his bed unless you were within handy reach. Yet he might endeavour to carry you there from the doorstep of your own home if he were in the mood. He’s a commanding prince, and you a quite ravishing creature.’

‘No, no, you misjudge him,’ said Annabelle, ‘he would
never be as outrageous as that.’ But would he not? She wondered. He was of all things audacious. ‘I have said his feelings for me are ardent, but no, not ungovernable.’

‘Nevertheless, be on your guard, dear young lady. Have you arranged another tryst?’

‘We are to meet and talk on Friday afternoon, if possible.’

‘Talk? When the fires of love are burning, you expect merely to talk?’ The captain looked grave and shook his head. The parasol moved to hide Annabelle’s rising pink from him.

‘I expect us to speak about whether or not he might marry me. He has already said he finds the notion to his liking.’

Captain Burnside looked as if he were sighing at such innocence. ‘Well, who can tell what such an independent son of the King might or might not do when his affections are so engaged?’ he said. ‘So, Friday afternoon? I shall take it upon myself to drive you, to keep it confidential and to ensure I stay close at hand, so that if you need to cry for help I shan’t fail to hear you.’

‘Mercy,’ said Annabelle, ‘I would not so misjudge the duke as to imagine he would make it necessary for me to cry for help.’

Captain Burnside might have said that if a lamb entered the lair of a wolf often enough, she would eventually get eaten. But he only smiled and patted the lamb’s arm.

Lady Caroline, returning from an outing of her own, found Annabelle at home and asked her if she had enjoyed her drive with Captain Burnside.

‘Caroline, I declare him the kindest and most considerate gentleman,’ said Annabelle. ‘We drove around Hyde Park, where there was a colourful promenade
of people, and such gay parasols, quite as gay as in Charleston, but the sun not so dreadfully hot or the heat so exhausting. Captain Burnside was much admired by passing ladies, for I saw them glancing and peeping. He owns a handsome posture when driving a pair and I vow him a pleasure to the eye.’

Ah, thought Caroline, the hireling has begun to impress Annabelle. ‘Well, I do count him a friend of several years’ standing,’ she said, ‘and can depend on him to keep you reliable company, although I don’t see him as much a pleasure to the eye as you do.’

‘Oh, at your age I expect you are attracted to older and more mature men,’ said Annabelle lightly. ‘Such as Mr Simon Hetherington, whom I’ve seen sighing over you.’

Caroline almost bristled. ‘Annabelle, you are absurd. Mr Hetherington must be nearly fifty. At my age indeed. I am only a little over four years older than you.’

‘But you have a very mature outlook,’ said Annabelle, ‘although, for my part, I cannot think why you don’t set your cap at Charles.’

‘Charles?’

‘Captain Burnside. I am sure you could never find a pleasanter or more companionable man.’

Caroline drew herself up in high affront. ‘I have no feelings of that kind for Captain Burnside,’ she said.

Annabelle smiled reminiscently. ‘He declares he has a reverence for you,’ she said.

Caroline eyed her sister very coolly. ‘A reverence?’ She could not relate that to anything but a moment of impudence on the part of her hireling. ‘Reverence?’