The Willows (12 page)

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Authors: Mathew Sperle

Tags: #romance, #historical romance, #s

BOOK: The Willows
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Gwen’s bottom lip began to quiver. “You
cannot truly hate me so. If this has anything to do with
mama’s-“

He, too, stood, napkin landed on his
plate. “You are never, ever to mention her name in this house
again. Have I made myself clear?”

Gwen was acutely conscious of Edith
watching, unable to stifle her satisfaction.


Is it clear?”

Jumping slightly at his bark, she
nodded.


Good.” Grabbing the bottle,
he turned to his brother. “Come to my study, Jervis. You and I must
discuss this further.”

He quit the room, leaving a strong
silence in his wake. Gwen sat slowly, aware of glance at her side.
Never had she been so humiliated.

Jervis walked around places hand on her
shoulders. “Try to understand, Gwen honey. John is going through a
rough patch now. He needs his baby girl’s help. Can’t see
that?”

Of course, she could-she was up to her
eyebrows in guilt.


Besides, who will be
scandalized?” Jervis went on. “Why, for years, have of Louisiana
has been mooning over our Gwen. What better way to settle her
future than with a friendly little competition? There is not a
bachelor in the parish who don’t know and like, and more
importantly, there is no way Lance can best any in a fair
fight.”

Lance reached over and covered her hand
with his own.


Just think,” Jervis
pressed. “Upon your marriage, Lance can take over management of the
Willows, with you as its lady. Can anyone ask for a better
solution?”

Across the table, Edith’s body went
white. “What if Lance does not win?” She asked, to which Lance
looked positively affronted.

Jervis merely laughed. “Come now,
sweetie, who can beat our Lancelot?” He removed his hands from
Gwen’s shoulder to give Lance a nudge. “Talk to her, while I try
and placate my brother. Edith, you go on out to the kitchen now,
and help Lavinia with the dishes.

Her cousin flushed red, and Gwen
thought she might refuse, but it was not like Edith to defy her
father’s wishes. Frowning fiercely, the girl followed her father
out of the room.


He is right,” Lance
insisted, that instant they were alone. “It might be my only chance
to win your hand.”


But don’t you think it’s so
tasteless? I would feel like a piece of meat, hanging in some
butchers dirty window.”


On the contrary.” With a
flourish, Lance Rose to stand beside her chair. “I think it’s
utterly romantic. Only imagine the scene. Knights gathered from far
and wide, all rushing to battle for your hand. Not that they have a
prayer, of course, as long as I am in the competition.”


You are quite certain you
can win?”


You cannot doubt my
skill?”

For a guilty moments, Gwen thought of
Michael. But that had been a childhood addle, and besides, why
would he compete? He hated this family, he thought her selfish and
shallow. “No I do not doubt you,” she answered Lance, her
hesitation nonetheless plain.


Keep in mind,” said, “I
have twice the will of any man alive, for this is the only way I
can when you. Darlin’ Do you think I would squander the one chance
we have?”

Spoke so proudly, Gwen could hardly
doubt him. He was asking for her trust, but this was her reputation
at stake, her future. “Oh, I do not know.”


Fate has given me this
chance to win your hand, and I mean to capture it.” He dropped to a
knee, taking her hand in his, and she cannot help but be touched I
his sincerity. “Poor Gwen. You are frightened, and how can I blame
you? But think of this. If your daddy agrees to the terms of the
tournament, he can no longer stop our marriage. Lancelot shall ride
onto the field and at long last claim his Queen. It shall be you
and I, winning the Willows, making all our dreams come true
forever.”

As words conjured up the excitement,
the pageantry, until the prospect seemed suddenly even more
romantic than daddy’s pursuit of mama. In truth, had any girl ever
received so dramatic a proposal of marriage? Looking down at his
dear, familiar face, she felt a rush of affection. Her amazing
Lance, steadfast and loyal, who vowed to love and protect her
always. “Lance, if you were certain you can win…”

Bringing her hand to his lips, he spoke
with the blood of emotion. “You are mine, my lady, and I shall
fight the death before I will let any other man have
you.”

He stared with such intensity, she grew
certain he’d kiss her. She waited breathlessly, praying he’d banish
the sweet, tingling magic with which Michael had given her
lips.

Instead, inhaling deeply, Lance rose to
his feet and pulled her up to stand beside him. “I’ll go tell your
menfolk the good news. We must plan the tournament. The sooner I
have one it, after all, the sooner we can wed.”

He dropped her hands, already pulling
away. Overwhelms by the enormity of what she had just agreed to,
when reached out to keep him near. “Do not go. I am
afraid-“


Fear not.” Smiling gently,
he touched her for head with fingertips. “Am I not here in your
mind, in your heart? Dream of me tonight, my darling. Dream of the
future we shall soon share.”

With that, spun on eight heal and left
the room, leaving a confused and frightened Gwen to stare after
him, fingers stealing up to touch her lips.

 

***

 

Edith stood in the darkness, back
propped against the empty stall. She’d still been seething when she
finished her work in the kitchen, and she knew of no better place
to fume event in the stable. With the auction block claiming all
the once prized stock-save for a mare her daddy had kept for
himself-the stable was the only spot she could be alone.

Tonight, she directed most of her anger
at her father. She had kept quiet while he sold his brothers
furnishings to settle his own collection of debts, but this… This
treachery, was beyond overlooking. By now, her father must sense
how she felt about Lance. How could he just hand them over to Gwen
on a silver platter?

She flushed, thinking of the night last
week she had been with Lance in this very stall. As he’d stroked
her, telling her how beautiful she was, how desirable, she let
herself believe him. When he’d kissed her, touched her, she’d known
in her heart it had to be love. Her father would never approve, but
oh, how exciting it had been all the same. Indeed, she might have
let him touch more than her breasts, had the mare not snorted in
the next stall. Jolted to her senses, she stopped Lance-stopped
herself-but from the smoldering looks he’d given her ever since,
she knew the scene must inevitably be repeated.

Or so she had thought before
tonight.

All through dinner, intercepting the
glances heard that he had shot at Lance, Edith had known with a
sinking sensation that’s his marriage to Gwen was a foregone
conclusion. She could almost see how Lance, lost in the joy dreams
of Camelot and past glories, could overlook the damage the Willows
was in no better shape than his own Bella Oaks-but what was her
father’s motive? What compelled him to bring those two together? It
might be her father, but she had few allusions left about the
man.

As she thought this, the stable door
creaked open, revealing the soft, mellow glow of a candlestick.
Instinctively, she ducked down in the stall, as she saw it was her
father and Lance. Sat crouched with her back to the wall,
frantically dabbing at her eyes, for she’d rather die than have the
two most important men in her life catch her crying.


Are you sure you won’t
stay?” Jervis was saying. “Edith can easily make up a spare
bedroom.”

He bristled. Truly, the man had begun
to take her for granted. Did he think she was one of the
servants?


It is kind of you to offer,
but if you don’t mind, I would just borrow your horse and return in
the morning.” Lance gave a low chuckle. “It might be wise to start
warning mother we will soon be moving out of the house.”

Moving? With a painful wrenching, she
wondered where they would go with no money. Poor Lance, she
thought, picturing him of breaking the news to his mother. Hard to
picture the demanding Lorna Buford settling for some snug little
cottage in town.


I must say,” Lance went on
with another chuckle, “I never thought you could get your brother
to go along with our plans.”


And why wouldn’t he? He
wants Gwen out of his hair, and besides, he doesn’t yet realized
you will be in the running. John purposely raised the entrance fee
so you cannot afford it, though, of course, I would be willing to
waive it in your case. As long as you keep your half of the
bargain.”


You are welcome to Bella
Oaks, Jervis. For myself, I will be happy to see the last of it and
start a new at the Willows.”


A good start it will be,
too, with your share of the entry fees. I plan to start advertising
tomorrow, up and down the river. The more fools we can convince to
part with their money, the richer you and I shall be.”

Edith could now see why heard father
was promoting the match. If he would be getting Bella Oaks, it
would mean he could own lands for the first time in his life. And
if he plans on taking a share of the tournament profits with him,
no wonder he was laughing with Lance.


And while I am busy setting
things up,” father went on, “you make sure our goal Gwen is too
preoccupied to notice what is going on. Charm the curiosity out of
her, keep on filling her head with all that nonsense she loves to
daydream about. I trust you are up to the task?”

Lance gave a snort, much like the horse
he led out of the next stall. Edith shrank down lower, more
desperate than ever not to be seen.


And mind you,” her father
added as they walked the horse out of the stable, “see that you
keep practicing. All our planning won’t amount to anything, if you
don’t win the tournament.”

There was another snort, but
whether it was Lance for the horse, Edith could not say. In her
mind, all she heard were her father’s last words,
if you don’t win the tournament
.

Waiting for them to leave, she wore a
secret smile. So much could happen between now and the
competition.

Indeed, she might even design plan of
her own.

 

***

 

Sitting on her window seat with her
feet curled behind her, Gwen stared out over the empty moonlit
field of the Willows, feeling lost and frightened and burdened by
guilt. Jervis had spoken to her at length after Lance had gone
home, explaining how much this could mean to the future of the
Willows. There would be money for the planting, a chance at
prosperity, and stability, for the first time in years. With it
would come hope, he spoke, and a spirit of surging forward that
might well become contagious. Imagine what it would mean for her
father, if John could start relying on his daughter and new
husband, instead of the bottle.

Jervis had not come right out and said
it, but he might just as well have. They both knew participating in
this competition was the one way Gwen might atone for her part her
mother’s dying, the only way you could get her father to forgive
her.

Oh father, she thought, her throat
going tight and hot.


Amanda?”

Gwen turned to find her father in the
doorway, his frail frame edged by the light of a distant lamp. It
was too dark to make out his features, but the way he suddenly
hunched over his cane made it unnecessary to correct him. He had
realized Gwen was his daughter and not his wife, and his obvious
disappointment made her want to cry. For both his loss and her
own.


You are too much like her,”
he said brokenly, “damn near breaks my heart just look at
you.”


Daddy, I miss her, too,” he
said, thinking to console him, but before she could completely on
curl her feet, he shut the door in her face.

Numb, she stood staring at the closed
doorway, wondering if there would ever come a day when her daddy
stop shutting her out.


John is going through a
rough patch” Jervis said. “He needs his baby girl to help
him.”

Biting her lip, willing the hurt and
guilt to subside, Gwen realized he was right. She could no longer
be willfully blind to what was going on around her. There was no
temporary mood her daddy was going through. She wanted to atone,
wanted to help him, there was but one choice open to her. Come what
may, she had to have to go along with the competition.

No matter who she must
marry.

 

Chapter 6

Michael rode along the Bayou, cursing
himself for a fool. Several days have passed since his visit to the
Willows; only a fool would hang around, waiting for the possible,
but this particular fool needed the money the McCloud family owed
him. Without it, the dream he had been building would soon
collapse.

Michael had been ready to quit after
Jervis had so rudely dismissed him, but later that night, sitting
in the local saloon nursing a beer, he had been approached a
servant from the Willows. If he went to Riverview Tavern today,
servant promised, Michael would find compensation. Up until now, he
had thought it was worth a shot, but the closer he got to
Riverview, the more wary he grew. The servant had not said who had
issued the summons. For all Michael knew, it could just be another
of Gwen’s games.

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