The Unintended Bride (2 page)

She watched, feeling wretched, as Digby quickly greeted Juliet and then turned to her, beaming. "Miss Fenster," He lifted her fingers to his lips and pressed a kiss against her gloved hand.

"Mr. Digby, how kind of you to visit." She noted at once that he seemed to be bursting with some great good news. She hoped he would not wish to draw her aside to tell her of it.

After all, there were already too few good reasons to avoid giving the man the opportunity to ask her to marry him. "Have you had some good fortune?" she asked, hoping to forestall any request for privacy. "You seem elated today, sir."

His smile grew wider. "You know me so well, Miss Fenster." As soon as he spoke — instantly, mysteriously — his smiled dimmed. "I have indeed had some tremendously good news, but I fear I cannot share it with you today.”

What kind of good news would put such a glow in his cheeks, and yet he could not share it with her yet?

He must have observed her confusion, because he said quickly, "Day after tomorrow I will come to you and you will be the first to hear what I hope will be astonishing and delightful news."

"I cannot wait to hear your news, Mr. Digby." For a moment her heart leaped. Had he fallen in love with some other woman? But his gaze into her eyes was as ardent as ever. Hero dared hope only that his words meant he would not be visiting tomorrow. She would certainly appreciate one day alone to enjoy the afternoon rather than dreading a proposal she was not ready to accept.

He glanced at Juliet, the wretch, who had pretended to some interest in a book in the farthest corner of the room to give them privacy. He lowered his voice. "I had hoped to find some time with you to broach a private matter, but in the light of this impending news, I think I would prefer to wait until next I see you."

Hero felt herself relax infinitesimally at this turn of fate. She smiled, and dared to tease him. "Then, if you are to keep secrets from me, sir, I feel it only fitting that we read Lord Byron today for our poet. Mystery for mystery, don't you agree?"

He nodded. "An excellent suggestion, as always, Miss Fenster."

"Juliet. Can you bring the Byron? We will read him today."

Juliet came nearer, a mischievous smile lighting her eyes, as if she considered trying to encourage the man to declare himself. "Is she not a paragon of common sense, Mr. Digby?"

With a stern warning glance, Hero said sharply, "Since you agree with me so well, sister, perhaps you would do the honor of reading from Lord Byron's work today?"

But she could not feel truly piqued, even with her sister's deviltry. She had been reprieved and she was coward enough to be happy for it.

"Lord Byron's words require a deep and masculine voice, don't you agree, Mr. Digby?" Juliet of course knew exactly how to turn the situation to her liking.

He did indeed agree with her, and settled happily to read a selection from the collection that Juliet pulled from the shelf for him. Hero heard hardly a word. Her thoughts were occupied with the debate over whether to accept Digby's proposal, or risk finding herself with no chance of marriage and family.

Thankfully, Juliet's young lord had not yet arrived, so Juliet amused herself by entertaining Digby with fervor. Neither of them noticed Hero's rising confusion. Her overwhelming sense of relief that she could put off a decision on whether or not to marry Gabriel Digby shamed her slightly. After all, it was not that he was not a catch.

No. There had been girls willing to set their caps for him for as long as she'd known them. Girls willing to go to lectures where he might be, to museums just to chance an encounter with him. She had seen them. It amazed her how Digby himself seemed oblivious to the adoration.

Juliet was right, he was a very handsome man. Hero stared at the way his lips moved as he read, willing a flare of passion, an ember. Nothing. She did not love him in any way other than as a cherished friend, a kind of affection similar to that admiration and love she had for her own brother. Perhaps she should be content with that?

But she dreamed of passion. At times she realized how silly it was that she should imagine herself, plain and quiet Hero, evoking that kind of love in a man. But to feel it herself, that she wished with all her heart. And that was why she had not accepted the few perfunctory proposals she had received these last four years. And why she was so afraid that Digby would be the next to ask for her hand.

Perhaps her brother Valentine and the duke might have encouraged her more strongly to make a marriage if it were not for the fact that the duchess was on her side. Bless her, her oldest sister, Miranda, now the Duchess of Kerstone, had promised that she need never marry a man she did not truly love. She closed her eyes, letting Digby's deep warm voice flow over her. She opened her eyes, suppressing a sigh. Despite all his shining virtues, Digby did not make her heart stir with passion in the least.

No, though it might have been convenient, considering how much else they had in common, it was simply not to be. Her heart ignored her pleas to beat faster when she danced with him, or when they conversed and he said something impossibly witty. She had heard other women refer to his handsome face, claiming he had the beauty of Adonis. And, dispassionately, she could agree that he did. By every measure, she knew she should have fallen passionately in love with the man.

Unfortunately for her, there was only one man who had managed to affect her heart thus far in her twenty-four years — and he was promised to someone else.

Fortunately, just as she was sternly remind herself that a well-bred lady did not wish ill on those who had what they coveted, several more callers were introduced to the parlor — all suitors for Juliet, naturally, along with two young ladies who seemed to favor calling upon Juliet because she offered the most varied selection of spurned suitors. Hero forced her attention back to the moment. It would not do to insult any of their guests.

Each man took a turn reading from Byron. It was almost amusing to see how each tried to outdo the other in "manly" voice. Only Hero seemed aware that her sister was paying no attention at all. Though she kept each of her suitors dancing to her bidding, at the moment Juliet herself was focused only on one — and he had not yet arrived.

How many times had Juliet's eyes strayed toward the doorway? Yet her distraction had not been noticed by her besotted suitors. Such blindness amazed Hero. They claimed to adore the lively and witty Juliet, and yet not one of them seemed to sense her impatience and her lack of attention.

Just as she had the thought, her sister laughed and declared, "How can any decision be made fairly between such wonderfully romantic and emotive readers? I have never heard Byron read so beautifully before."

Apparently, Hero alone recognized that her sister had heard not one word of Byron's beautifully crafted poems. Each man took a turn trying to convince Juliet he was the one who should win the coveted prize — the last of Cook's lemon tarts.

It was no wonder that no man had yet captured her sister's heart for more than weeks at once. No one had yet seen past her laughing facade to the passionate intensity that lurked beneath the beautiful surface. Woe betide whoever did — her sister would lead him on a merrier chase than she had led the others, no doubt.

When the impromptu poetry competition had been decided in favor of Gabriel Digby — by Juliet, of course — those who had lost graciously left to pay other calls while Digby enjoyed his prize. Cook's lemon tart was served warmed, with clotted cream and tea. Even Hero could not begrudge him his enjoyment, though winning the prize extended his visit.

Juliet's attention was so focused upon the doorway that she was drawn tight as a bowstring.

Digby swallowed each bite of tart and his sip of tea without speaking, though he watched Juliet curiously. Hero was grateful that he had the wisdom to make no remark upon her sister's agitation.

Quickly, he finished his prize to the last crumb. "Thank you for the tart, and the Byron. I look forward to our next meeting," he told Hero meaningfully as he stood to take his leave, apparently under the impression that he had been thought to overstay. As he did, the footman entered with a card upon his tray. Juliet leaped from her chair and met the footman halfway across the room. She snatched up the card from the silver tray and read it avidly. A puzzled yet pleased expression blossomed upon her face. Together the girl and the servant left the room without a further word.

Digby's eyebrows rose, and he turned to Hero, an unspoken question in his eyes.

Instantly, she defended her sister's impetuous action. “Juliet is impatient for a visit from someone who has captured her heart."

Digby smiled as if he understood completely. And then his expression shifted, deepened, and Hero's heart dropped to her knees as he said, "Perhaps I am wrong to wait to tell you my deepest secret." He grasped her hands in his. "My dear Miss Fenster, I long to ask you the most important question a man may ask a woman."

She barely had time to panic before her salvation appeared like a knight in shining armor behind the returning Juliet. Arthur, her brother-in-law's cousin.

The very man — the only man — she had ever truly loved.

"Good morning, Miss Fenster, Mr. Digby." Arthur squelched the surge of jealousy at seeing the pair in a near embrace. He had no right to be jealous.

"What a pleasant surprise, Mr. Watterly, we were not expecting you to visit during the Season." Hero's face was a study in guilt as she quickly stepped away from Digby. Digby himself seemed to straighten, adding an inch to his already impressive height.

So, that was the way it was? He wondered whether Digby had proposed yet. If not it was only a matter of time. Digby didn't have a family-arranged bride waiting in the wings. His feelings for Hero were clear in his eyes when he looked at her. Too clear for Arthur's liking.

Hero seemed still unused to the idea, given the evidence of her blush. He supposed it was natural enough. She was a shy and modest woman. Perhaps he ought to reassure her, to back out of the room again, taking Juliet with him so that the couple could have the private time, uninterrupted, that they seemed to desire.

No. He was not that magnanimous. Let Digby muddle about just as every other mortal man must. He walked fully into the room, and appropriating the best spot near the fire as was his right as heir apparent to the duke, accepted Juliet's offer to pour him a cup of tea. "I had unexpected business in town. I could not come to London without a visit to my favorite household."

"We are honored," Hero said softly. She met his eyes briefly, and then hurriedly looked away. With a new blush on her cheek, she turned to her sister. "I will go to the nursery to fetch Miranda straightaway."

Looking at a point midway between Arthur and Digby, she said, "You must excuse me, please. The duchess will want to greet you as soon as possible."

"No need." Juliet stayed her with a light touch upon her arm. "I have dispatched Nancy to fetch her." She smiled at Arthur, and he could see that she was pleased with herself for thinking of sending the maid before Hero could suggest it. What mischief was she about? "She is up in the nursery helping the younger girls create a puppet play. No doubt if you are staying for more than a night or two, you will be required to sit through the misery."

"Juliet!" Hero laughed, though her glance toward Digby hinted of hidden mortification. Smoothing her features into propriety with slight difficulty, she nodded to Arthur, and smiled. "I am certain that you would be required to do no such thing."

"It would be no hardship, I assure you." He wagged a finger at Juliet half in warning and half in jest. He hoped she would drop any wayward plan to amuse herself at his expense which might have crossed her mind. "The play will be delightful, as always." His heart lifted in satisfaction when Hero's expression brightened in approval of his sentiment.

He smiled at her, unable to ignore the leap of connection between them. "I trust, as usual, that all of the Fenster misses, even the youngest of them, are more than capable of entrancing their audience."

"I regret, then, that I have not had the pleasure of seeing a puppet play myself," Gabriel Digby interjected with a nod of his golden head.

Hero glanced at Digby and blushed deeply. Arthur hoped vainly that her startled expression meant that she had forgotten the man existed. "How kind of you for saying so, Mr. Digby." But no, her gaze lingered much too fondly on the man.

He was pricked with unwonted jealousy yet again. "The audience is reserved to family, you understand, I'm certain?"

"I do indeed. I will be honored if I am ever so privileged as to receive an invitation." Digby smiled again at Hero.

Ye gods! Where did one get so many perfect white teeth? Arthur snatched at the enigmatic "if." So the man had not asked and she had not accepted yet. He felt definite satisfaction that things had not yet progressed that far, and said with false solicitousness, "Of course, I forget sometimes that my relationship with the duke puts me at an advantage."

Digby nodded, his impossibly wide smile dimming somewhat. "Not all of us are so favored."

Arthur knew he should leave it there. He had made his point. He was being condescending, even Hero frowned reproachfully at him, but could not help himself. "I assure you, in the unlikely chance you are ever so blessed, you will find that they are talented and lively children."

All three of them stared at him for a moment — as if he had stripped off his clothing — and then diverted their gazes. He could have bitten his tongue out.

Juliet, her eyes narrowed with the pleasure of the tension in the room, said provocatively, "Why, we must see that Mr. Digby is invited to this new puppet show, shouldn't we, Hero?"

Arthur waited with his breath held while Hero gave her sister a sharp glance. Did she rebuke Juliet because she did not want to seem forward? Because she was annoyed with Arthur's foolish gibes? Because she had been hoping for a declaration when he so rudely interrupted them?