Lord Stillwell's Excellent Engagements Page 5

  She stared with suspicion. “Your letters stopped. What was I to think?”

  “I never stopped writing you,” he said firmly. “I don’t know why you didn’t get my letters, but I did write.”

  “That’s possible, I suppose.” Reluctance sounded in her voice and she thought for a moment. “Entirely possible, really. My mother was delighted when we heard you were engaged and wasted no time in encouraging me to put you completely out of my head. She wouldn’t hesitate to dispose of your letters before I saw them. She doesn’t like you, you know.”

  “She thinks you can do better.” He paused. “She thinks you can marry a viscount.”

  “As I fully intend to do,” she said in a lofty manner. “If you have said what you came here to say, you may leave and—”

  “I have no intention of leaving.” He stepped toward her. “I came home as soon as I learned of your engagement.”

  “You should have returned long before that.” She sniffed.

  “Yes, I should have, but I didn’t. In truth, I couldn’t. It was all quite awkward and convoluted and complicated.” He ran his hand through his hair. Win had no idea what Caroline was thinking, but he felt a touch of sympathy for the young man. “And yes, I admit, it has been rather exciting and I have enjoyed myself. But I am here now and I never intend to leave you again.” Lawrence took her hand. “And I will not allow you to marry another man.”

  “Allow?” She pulled her hand from his. “You have no say in the matter.”

  He stared at her. “But I love you and you love me.”

  “And I fully expect to love Lord Stillwell. In time.” She shrugged. “It shouldn’t be at all difficult. Why, I daresay I am already a bit in love with him. He kisses extremely well.”

  Win grinned. He did kiss extremely well.

  “No doubt because he has kissed so many,” Lawrence snapped. “Do you really want a man who has already been engaged twice and yet has never married?”

  “I am certain the blame for both of those falls squarely at other feet,” she said. Win did like that she came to his defense. “Why, his first fiancée broke it off with him to marry a man who was expected to inherit a lofty title and huge fortune. My sister says she’s a bit of a twit at any rate. The second, well, everyone says she is overly proper and extremely stuffy. I suspect Lord Stillwell was entirely too . . . too nice for her.”

  True enough.

  “If he is such a very nice man, surely he will understand when you tell him you are in love—”

  “Oh, but I can’t. I simply can’t.” She shook her head. “I could never do that to him. He’s been wonderful to me. Really, all a girl could ask for, and I have no doubt he will make an excellent husband. Besides, while he hasn’t said it, I suspect the failures of his previous engagements have affected him deeply.”

  He had been extremely annoyed.

  “He gets the oddest look in his eye when the subject comes up, as it has once or twice. It’s not something he likes to talk about.”

  Lawrence snorted. “Nor would I if two women had left me practically at the altar.”

  Where did the boy get his information? Win huffed. It was never actually at the altar.

  “Regardless of whether or not it was for the best, I think he was hurt by both ladies.” She shook her head. “I will not do that to him.”

  Lawrence studied her for a long moment. “You said it was complicated. What haven’t you told me?”

  “Isn’t this complicated enough?”

  “I know you, Caro.” He shook his head. “There’s something else.”

  Was there something else?

  Caroline twisted her hands together and drew a deep breath. “My father is having some financial difficulties. I am not privy to the exact details, but it has to do with unwise investments. Lord Stillwell has made something of a reputation for himself in his handling of his family’s investments. Father says he is quite brilliant in that respect.”

  Well, brilliant might not be entirely accurate, but close.

  “Father hopes, once we are all family, Lord Stillwell will come to his rescue in some manner.”

  “If he’s such a nice man, wouldn’t he be inclined to assist your father anyway?”

  “Father would never ask. He scarcely knows Lord Stillwell. Besides, he has a great deal of pride. Even asking my . . . my husband will be difficult for him.”

  “So you are marrying him to help your father?”

  “No,” she said firmly. “I am marrying him because I am very fond of him, because he is a very nice man”—Win did wish she would stop referring to him as very nice—“and I think he will make an excellent husband. Regardless of my father’s difficulties, I would not marry him otherwise.”

  “Marry me instead. I’ll find a way to help your father. My brothers say I have a great deal of potential when it comes to business and investing and that sort of thing.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t.”

  “But you love me.”

  “I know! And that’s the tragedy of it, isn’t it?” She stared at him for a long moment. “If you had come back when you were supposed to, if I had received your letters, if all sorts of things had happened differently . . .” She shook her head. “But they didn’t. And now, well, now it’s too late. I will not hurt him. I have tasted the kind of pain one feels when one has been abandoned and I will not inflict it on someone else. He’s a good man, Lawrence, and he does not deserve that.”

  “I will not give up, you know.” Determination showed in the young man’s stance, in the tone of his voice and the look in his eye. It would have been most admirable had it not been that said determination was in regard to the woman Win was to marry. “I have been an idiot. I have made any number of mistakes, but this is one I will not make. I’ll be back, Caro. Tomorrow and the day after and every day until your wedding. And I will protest at your wedding as well if I need to. I will not lose you.” He nodded, turned and strode toward the far end of the field and the opening in the south wall of the hedge.

  Caroline stared after him. Her manner resigned, her eyes touched with sorrow, she was the very picture of heartbreak. Win’s heart twisted. There was nothing to be done about it then.

  He waited until Lawrence had disappeared through the hedge, then straightened and walked through the archway.

  Caroline turned, caught sight of him and gasped. “Winfield!”

  “Caroline.” He smiled. “I suspect we have a great deal to talk about, don’t we?”

  Her gaze searched his. “Dare I ask how much of that you heard?”

  “More than enough.”

  “Oh, dear.”

  “Caroline.” He took her hands. “In four days, you are to become my wife. I would like nothing better than that.”

  “Good.” She raised her chin. “As I have no intention of not becoming your wife.”

  “And yet I find it, oh, awkward to wed a woman who is in love with someone else.”

  “Winfield, I—”

  “We are going to have to do something about this.”

  She straightened her shoulders and met his gaze directly. “I am still fully prepared to marry you.”

  He raised a brow. “Fully prepared?”

  “Dear me.” She winced. “That sounded awful, didn’t it?”

  “Fully prepared is not exactly what one wishes to hear from his bride.”

  “I am sorry. I never meant . . . that is to say . . .” She heaved a heartfelt sigh.

  “Perhaps I can assist you.” Amusement sounded in his voice. “My first fiancée said she could not marry me because she had a better offer.”

  “How very shortsighted of her,” Caroline said indignantly.

  “I thought so. As it turns out, I suspect she would now agree.” He chuckled. “My second decided I was too amusing—frivolous was the word she used.”

  Caroline stared. “What utter nonsense.”

  “You, however.” He brought her hand to his lips. “You are in love with an
other man. And while you are fully prepared”—she grimaced—“to go through with our wedding, I’m afraid I cannot allow that.” He released her hand and shook his head. “I had planned to make you happy, Caroline. And it now seems the best way to do that is to allow you to follow where your heart leads.”

  “Winfield, I—”

  “I shall lend your father my assistance, of course. That will make this easier for your mother. However—” He paused. “It also seems to me that while your young man has at last realized his mistakes, one questions whether he has learned his lesson.”

  “One does wonder,” she murmured.

  “Winning your hand too easily might not be the way to begin a lifetime together. Perhaps he shouldn’t be allowed to walk back into your life and sweep you away without some sort of, oh, amends being made.”

  She stared at him thoughtfully. “Perhaps.”

  “Do you trust me, Caroline?”

  She gazed into his eyes and grinned. “Why I believe I do, my lord.”

  He explained what he had in mind and her eyes widened. “You are a wicked, wicked man, Winfield.”

  “I do try,” he said in a modest manner.

  “And a good man as well.” Her gaze met his and she smiled. “I quite envy the woman who at last becomes your wife. She will be a very fortunate creature.”

  “Fortunate or not”—he cast her a wry smile—“she is apparently a difficult creature to find.”

  She laughed. It struck him that he would not hear that laugh every day for the rest of his life. The thought would have been unbearable had he been in love with her. Had she been the love of his life. As she was not, he rather liked the idea of uniting her with the love of hers.

  Once again, he had planned a wedding at Fairborough Hall and, by God, this time there was going to be one.

  Chapter 6

  Win threw open the library door and stalked into the room in his best Viscount Stillwell, heir to the Earl of Fairborough manner. He did so love playing viscount and heir to the hilt.

  Caroline’s Lawrence paced the floor and pulled up short when Win stepped into the room. His eyes widened. “My lord, my apologies. I received a note.... I did not . . . that is, I expected—”

  “You expected to see Miss Hibbitt.” Win strode to his father’s desk and sat down.

  “Yes, sir.” Caution sounded in the young man’s voice.

  Win gestured for him to take the chair directly in front of the desk. Lawrence reluctantly sat down, the expression on his face no doubt exactly the same at that on Win’s face whenever he had sat in that chair to face his father’s wrath at some indiscretion or misdeed. Odd, Win had sat in his father’s chair any number of times, but he’d never noticed that it was slightly higher than the chair it faced. And whatever miscreant sat in that chair. Indeed, this subtly elevated position gave whoever sat behind the desk a distinct advantage. How very clever of whichever earl had discovered this.

  “I don’t believe we have been properly introduced.” Win pinned the younger man with a hard look. “I am Viscount Stillwell.”

  Lawrence swallowed hard. “Yes, sir.”

  “And you are Mr. Royce, I believe.”

  Lawrence nodded.

  “The youngest son of the Earl of Thadwick.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You have four older brothers do you not, Mr. Royce?”

  “I do, sir.”

  “What are your prospects then, Mr. Royce?” Win leaned back in his chair and studied the young man. “Unless a dire disaster strikes most of your family, you will not be the next earl.”

  “No, of course not. I do have ambitions and plans, however. I am said to show great promise in the area of investment.” He stopped and stared at Win. “Forgive me, my lord, but what business is this of yours?”

  “You intend to steal my fiancée, Mr. Royce.” Win narrowed his eyes, leaned forward and met Lawrence’s gaze sternly. “I wish to know if you are worthy of her. Or perhaps I should simply assume you are not and demand satisfaction. You should know I am an excellent shot with a dueling pistol.”

  “Dueling is illegal, sir.”

  “That would indeed make it more of a challenge.” Win cast him a wicked smile. “I have always enjoyed a challenge.”

  “Well then, sir.” Lawrence got to his feet and squared his shoulders. “Is it my understanding, as you issued the challenge, the choice of weapons falls to me. I too am an excellent shot and—”

  “Oh, sit down, Mr. Royce.” Win rolled his gaze toward the ceiling. “Nobody is going to shoot anyone, although make no mistake, I would be the victor in such a confrontation. Now, sit down.”

  Lawrence sat.

  “But were I to shoot you, no doubt one of your brothers would feel it necessary to do the same to me. Then my cousin would, of course, have to dispatch him and then another one of your brothers would do him in and so on and so forth. The next thing you know, it is the Montagues and the Capulets all over again.”

  “Then there’s to be no duel?” Caution edged Lawrence’s voice.

  “Not today.”

  “Good.” Lawrence blew a relieved breath. “I don’t mind telling you, sir, my father would, well, let us simply say he would not be at all pleased if I were to be involved in a duel or anything of that nature. Especially not after the incident with the . . .”

  “The Austrian count’s daughter?”

  Lawrence stared. “How did you know about that?”

  “How does one ever know about things like that?” Win said in an enigmatic manner and realized his father did precisely the same thing. Perhaps it was the chair itself that made whoever sat it in sound at once all-knowing yet still rather vague.

  “Please don’t tell me the incident has become fodder for England’s gossips.”

  Win could confess that he had overheard the young man mention the Austrian count’s daughter to Caroline, but then he would have to admit he had been eavesdropping, which would alter the moral balance of their discussion. At the moment, Win was the injured party and therefore had the advantage. “Not as far as I know.”

  “Then how . . . Never mind.” Lawrence shook his head. “It scarcely matters, I suppose.” He paused. “If you do not intend to shoot me, what do you intend to do?”

  “I suppose that depends on you.”

  Lawrence’s brow furrowed. “On me?”

  Good Lord. Had Win been that stupid when he was Lawrence’s age? Probably. “Do you or do you not intend to prevent Caroline from marrying me?”

  “Oh.” His expression cleared and he nodded. “I do. I most definitely do.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I love her and she loves me.”

  “And?”

  “And . . . and therefore she cannot marry you.”

  On second thought, Win had not been that stupid. “You do realize your actions have consequences. Are you prepared for them?”

  Confusion shone in the young man’s eyes. “Consequences?”

  “Yes, consequences. Marriage. Are you prepared for marriage?”

  “Marriage?”

  “Yes, marriage,” Win said sharply. “You know. One woman, forever and ever, until the day you breathe your last. Marriage.” Win studied him closely. “You did ask her to marry you instead of me.”

  “Well, yes, but I didn’t really mean . . .”

  Win stared in disbelief. “What did you mean?”

  “Well, I’m not sure exactly.” He leaned forward in an earnest manner. “I wasn’t thinking clearly. The words just came out of their accord. It did seem the right thing to say at the time. You understand.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “You never said something to a woman in the heat of the moment that wasn’t quite what you meant?”

  “I never asked one to marry me!”

  “You did ask a few others,” Lawrence said under his breath.

  “Two others and neither of those proposals were impulsive.” Win glared. “They were both well thought out.�
�� He paused. “Well, perhaps not the first. I was, oh, infatuated I would say and marriage seemed like an excellent idea. The second, however, was extremely well thought out. In hindsight, perhaps too well thought out. It was a rational, sensible decision and that itself was probably a mistake.”

  “Was asking Caroline to marry you a mistake as well?”

  “I didn’t think so at the time, but then I didn’t know she was in love with someone else.” He paused. “No, it was not a mistake. She is a lovely woman, the kind of woman one could easily spend the rest of one’s days with. She is amusing and clever and knows her own mind. Caroline is a woman one could easily love.” Too easily.

  “Yes, she is.” Lawrence stared. “Do you love her then?”

  “I am extremely fond of her,” he said staunchly. “But I cannot marry a woman who is in love with someone else.”

  “Well, then there’s nothing more to talk about is there?” Lawrence grinned and got to his feet.

  “Sit down!”

  Lawrence plopped back down.

  “Perhaps you did not give this due consideration, but if this wedding is cancelled, Caroline and I will be thrust into scandal. We will be the center of gossip. Speculation will be rampant. People will say the most unkind things about the two of us. But, as is the way of such things, she will bear the brunt of it. Her reputation will be in question if not ruined. Scandal does not particularly concern me. But I suspect it concerns her.” Win narrowed his eye. “I will not permit that.”

  “Oh?” Lawrence squirmed in his seat.

  “There is only one way to avoid scandal.”

  “There is?”

  “I have no intention of cancelling yet another wedding.”

  “You don’t?” Lawrence said weakly.

  “I do not.” Win sighed. “Mr. Royce, let me ask you this. Did you or did you not come here to stop this wedding?”

  He nodded. “I did.”

  “Because you love her.”

  “I do.”

  “And can you imagine your life without her in it?”

  “No, of course not, I . . .” Lawrence paused. “I do want to marry her, don’t I?”