The Willows (14 page)

“
Besides,” Edith went on,
“that he has no intention of losing Roseland. He means to keep it
in the family, as if it were, by making certain Lance wins the
contest.”

“
So you cheat. Should have
known.” Michael shook his head in disgust. Each time he thought his
contempt for the family couldn’t get any stronger, they managed to
prove him wrong again.

“
Neither daddy nor Lance
considers it cheating. I believe the term they use was protecting
their best interests.”

“
And what does your cousin
think of this protection?”

“
I doubt Gwen has stopped to
consider it at all. She’s always wanted to marry Lance. This just
makes it easier.”

Was Gwen so willfully blinded that she
couldn’t see she was being offered up like some sacrifice of a
lamb? Crawling the paper, Michael felt the same sense of outrage he
known the day he watched Lance pusher in the dirt. As old-fashioned
as it sounded, even raised to value words like respect and honor.
Dementia protect the woman he says he loves. He shouldn’t subject
her to scorn and ridicule, and certainly never for money. “Just how
do they plan to ensure Lance victory? Drug all the competitor’s
horses?”

“
Nothing so drastic, I
assure you. That is in charge of the lists, and can determine in
advance will compete. And should a worthy opponent slip past his
notice, there is a barely known rule in the
competition.”

“
Etched in at the bottom and
extra small writing?”

“
Exactly.” With a ghost of a
smile, she reached into the bag again and presented a copy of the
rules. “As you’ll note, there is a provision stating that in case
of a tie, or any disputed call, the issue must be settled with a
joust. As Lance put it, anyone can snare those silly rings, but
staying atop a force when another’s trying to unseat you take
special training, for both men and animal. By the time the other
entries learn about the new rule, he means to be the only one with
both the skills and the mount to win.”

“
How clever of
them.”

Smile went tight. “Yes, well, as it
stands now, he will win the competition. And he’s arranged to have
a clerk on hand, ready to step in and hear their vows the instant
you wins.”

A wedding, there on the field of play?
“He certainly taking no chance your cousin will change
mine.”

“
One isn’t hoarsely in polls
of. Is no predicting what she will do next. And, as Lance says, she
has been a bit skittish of late.”

Skittish? Michael thought, feeling an
odd little thought. “I thought you said your cousin wanted this
marriage.”

Edith shook her head. “What you want is
neither here nor there. My father and Lance are determine that
their marriage to place at the politician, and it shall, unless
someone does abuse stop it. You, Michael, are the only one I know
who beat Lance before.”

“
That, too, is neither here
nor there. As you said, your father is in charge of the lists. He
never allowed my name to be on it.”

She smiled. “Sure enough, but you see,
the actual copying of the lists have been regulated to me. It might
not have been my daddy’s to intention, but I have the ultimate say
over who is and is not included.”

“
I don’t have the
money”

She waved off his protest. “Since I
keep the records, too, can easily disregard entrance fee. That is
already set the same for Lance.”

Michael eyed her suspiciously, press in
spite of himself by the intelligence and determination she hid from
the world. “We seem to have given this great deal thought, either.
But in all your calculations, did you stop to consider I might not
want to compete?”

“
Why not? I’m told you’re
far from a wealthy man. Think what you have to gain.”

Nothing was gained in his life without
a price, he learned. “As hard as it may be for you to believe, I
don’t want the Willows. It holds too many memories I prefer to put
behind me.”

“
No one says you must keep
the plantation, Michael. Indeed, you could sell it back to us, for
say that amounts my father owes you?”

So this is what where she’d been
leading? Michael stared at her, long and hard. “How efficiently you
tied everything up. Can’t help wondering what you hope to gain from
it.”

She looked away, biting her lip, her
hands fidgeting again. “My motives are not important. Do we have a
deal or not?”

“
I don’t think so. I’m not
good at lies.” He turned to go, suddenly tired of the whole
thing.

“
Wait,” she called out.
“Please, at least take the time to think it over. You just might
find it that it’s your only hope.”

God forbid, he thought, continuing
through the trees. Breaking into the clearing he brushed past Colby
to treat his horse, knowing he couldn’t leave this place soon
enough.

Pointing himself in the saddle, he knew
he’d been a damn full to do what she asked. In his rash youth, he
might’ve tried rushing in to save Gwen like some hero, but he now
knew the lady neither wanted-nor deserved-to be rescued.

Angry with entire situation, especially
his own part in it, he turned his horse towards the swamp, deciding
it was time to be getting back home. Let this family sort out their
own dirty laundry; he had not the energy to – about like some hero.
It was none of his business-and even less concern-what happened to
the high in mighty Gwen. Come what may, she would end up with her
Lance, and nothing could change that. A painful lesson Rafe had
learned from the lady herself.

Still and all, it wasn’t her rejection
he thought about. It was her face the night as he kissed her, all
flesh and soft and so incredibly vulnerable.

“
Damn,” he said, spurring
his horse down the road.” Damn, damn, damn.”

***

A few days before the competition, Gwen
stood in the field to watch Lance practice, hoping the last three
hours at her toilette had not been wasted. It was no easy thing,
looking her best. Even with older clothes, she was fast running
short of clean clothing.

She’d been saving the rose patterned
morning dress for a special occasion, and while she couldn’t like
it’s snug fit, or how it’s lace trim drag in the mud, this was a
dire emergency. She just had to charm Lance into charming Lavinia.
Someone must convince the stubborn old servants to do her laundry,
or Gwen would soon be down to her shift.

Twirling her dress, he started forward
the instant he brought his horse to a halt. “Why, Lance, if you
don’t look like a champion already,” she drawled. “I declare, the
way you snared those rings, I can’t see how there’s men alive who
can best you.”

He smiled broadly as he dismounted. “It
may prove a trifle more difficult on the day of actual
competition.”

“
But surely you will
win?”

“
Of course.” Still smiling,
he grabbed the reins of his horse. “But you cannot have come out in
this hot sun to discuss my performance. Tell me, while we strolled
over to the shade, to what do I oh this pleasure?”

Gwen fell step aside him. “Lance, can’t
a girl watch her champion practice?”

“
She most certainly can,
especially when she looks so lovely. Have you done something new
with your hair?”

She flushed with pleasure. “Not
really,” she lied, ignoring that hour she had spent with the
curling iron. “But how sweet of you to say I looked nice,
especially in this old thing. I will soon have nothing to wear, if
Lavinia does not do the laundry. I declare, I think she’s the
delaying just to spite me. You know she’s never much liked me. She
was always more like to listen to you.” She looked up, batting her
lashes. “I bet if you were to talk to her, washing would get done
tomorrow.”

Her words pleased him; she could tell
by the upward shift of his shoulders. “I have an idea. Why don’t I
intercept in your behalf?”

“
Oh, would you Lance” Gwen
was willing to pretend he had come up with the idea, if it got her
clean clothes, but she couldn’t help a small spurt of resentment.
There was little fun in being clever, if no one noticed. “Lance,
you are my hero,” she gushed nonetheless.

Stopping his horse near a tall stand of
oaks, Lance gestured back to where he’d been practicing. “Just wait
until the competition. Picture it, Gwen, horns blasting, the crowd
shouting and cheering, while I thunder past. And when I have one,
after I have vanquished all challengers, I shall come kneel in
worship. There, in front of everyone, your Lancelot shall claim
you. At long last, you and I shall exchange our vows.”

Gwen, who had been swept up by the
colorful image, snapped back to the here and now. “Vows?” She
asked. “You cannot mean a wedding?”

He frowned. “You said you wanted to wed
as soon as possible.”

“
No. I mean, yes, of course,
I do, but I have always imagine a church, with a lovely new gown,
and hundreds of guests dancing at a grand and elaborate party. I
don’t want to be wed on some dusty field.”

His frown tilted, became a tight smile
“but, of course, darling, I wants all that is much as you. Still
and all, the crowd will expect excitement in ceremony, and we can’t
disappoint them. They’ll be expecting Lancelot and Gwen to stand up
before them, swearing to cherish each other forever. The least we
can do is give them their money’s worth in
entertainment.”

“
And we shall, provided it’s
a mock ceremony, only for show,” she said, faking a smile of her
own. “We will wait to have a real wedding later, won’t
we?”

His smile eased. “A mock ceremony. Of
course. But I shall arrange it so no one will guess it’s not real.
Trust your Lancelot to take care of everything.”

She did, truly she did, so why this
nagging apprehension? “You will win, won’t you?” She found herself
asking. “Jervis says he’s already had thirty entrances, yet so few
have names I recognize, and none of those men are men I would care
to marry. I cannot bear being tied to some ill bearded ogre who
eats with his hands and snores in the sleep.”

“
Haven’t I already promised?
I swear to you, Gwen, I shall let no other man have
you.”

It was a wonderful declaration,
delivered with the right touch of finesse, yet it failed to make
her feel better. Odd that she should find less emotion in his gaze
then she’d seen in Michael’s the night he kissed her.

“
Lance,” he found herself
asking, “why is it you never kiss me?”

He hesitated, clearly taken back,
before smiling with his usual assurance. “What a question. You must
know, I hope that’s I respect you too much to so compromise your
reputation.”

“
I know, and I treasure
that, but here, Lance, with one to see, what would it hurt? Aren’t
you at least bit curious how it feels to touch my lips? Don’t you
yearn for the excitement, the… The magic?”

Again he pause, turning to fuss with
his horse. “Of course, but only a complete clown would force
himself to his lady before their wedding. That is why I am so eager
for us to be married.”

“
Yes, but-“

“
It will happen, Gwen, and
soon, as we must be patient.” Smiling grimly, he took up the ropes
of the horse. “In between the time, my horses and find sweats and
easy rubdown. Come, walk with me back to Bell Oaks, and I’ll drive
you home in my mother’s carriage.”

She suddenly felt cross, not optimally
visit with his overbearing mother. “I think I should stay closer to
home. It’s nearly dinnertime, I do hate toward daddy.”

“
I suppose it is getting
late. I imagine I’d best be going.”

She had hoped he’d offer to walk her
back to the house, and the fact that he did not merely grew her
irritation. “I thought you were going to talk to
Lavinia.”

“
I will, first thing in the
morning.” With his patented smile, he pulled himself on top of the
horse. “After all, you must make certain you have a clean scarf.
When I march into the fray, I expect to carry a Lily white token of
your favor.”

Squirming with guilt, she watched Lance
walk off. She did not like the reminder that she’d granted her
token to another just how was she to get her handkerchief back from
Michael?

As if he had appeared merely to answer
her question, she saw him standing among the trees to her right,
watching from beside his huge black stallion. As he led the animal
closer, she was doubly annoyed to find her heart echoing the thuds
of Lance’s retreating horse.

“
Lance was just explaining
the competition to me,” she said awkwardly when Michael reach
her.

“
I heard.” She cringed
inside as she recalled the conversation. She hope Michael had not
thought she was begging for Lance’s kiss-or worse, made any
connection to his own.

“
What are you doing here,
Michael?” Was all she could think of to change the
subject.

He looked behind him, for the distance
swap. “Trespassing again, I suppose. Do you me to turn me
in?”