Charmed By Knight (The Fielding Brothers Saga) (8 page)

Lucinda pulled away, folding her arms smartly across her chest. “You need to tell her soon. I cannot wait another day to make our announcement.”

Kelton
shook his head. “Lucinda, you must have more patience. I’m certain my grandmother would not approve of our engagement. She’s in hopes of me finding a more suitable woman with a larger dowry.”

Lucinda pouted and stomped her foot. “You have enough wealth, so what should my dowry have to do with it?”

“You cannot comprehend how my grandmother thinks. Her ideas are old-fashioned, and she wants to keep title and wealth in the family.”

Lucinda relaxed, taking his hands and bringing them to her mouth as she kissed him. “Our love is more precious than a large dowry. You must convince her—”

Kelton
gathered the woman in his arms, dropping his face to her neck. “Let’s talk later,” he mumbled.

“No.” She pushed him away. “I will meet you out here tomorrow evening, and you had better give me the news I’m hoping for.”

Edmund bit his tongue to keep from laughing aloud.
Poor
Kelton
.
Yet, Edmund should feel sorry for Lady Lucinda because the duke wasn’t serious in his pursuit of marriage. If so,
Kelton
would have found a woman like Megan.

After the couple quit the greenhouse, Edmund scooted out from under the table, and helped Megan stand. She wiped off her dress as he dusted off his trousers.

“I cannot believe what I have just heard…and saw.” Megan shook her head as her cheeks flamed.

He laughed. “Yes, our darling
dukie
isn’t the respectable man he has led us to believe all this time, is he?”

She lowered her gaze as she picked at her dress. “I will just say this evening was full of surprises.”

He lifted her chin with his finger. “Are you not relieved I saved you from a snake like
Kelton
?”

She slapped at his hand and stepped past him toward the door. “You saved me from nothing. At least a snake like
Kelton
would have done what’s honorable and offered marriage after being alone with an innocent woman in the woodsman’s cottage most of the afternoon. You have no plans to do that.”

In two long strides, he stood beside her, taking her by the arm and swinging her around to face him. “So your main purpose at the cottage was to trap poor
Kelton
into marriage?”

She huffed. “That, sir, is none of your business.”

He barked out a laugh. “And yet, you have the gall to stand there and accuse me of trickery.” He shook his head. “Miss Ramsey, that’s not very ethical of you.”

“Ethical, you say? Then tell me, Mr. Knight, what is ethical? After reducing a Baron to scraping the streets for coin like a common beggar, you have the nerve to call me unethical?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Your father deserves his fate. He’s a miserable cheat and a sore loser.”

“And you are no better. Not only have you reduced my father to grovel like the pigs, you have put me in a situation where I have to trap a man with fortune and title into marriage.”

“What do you want me to say?” Edmund folded his arms. “Do you want me to drop to one knee and propose marriage? Will it make the situation better? Will it make your miserable parents happy?”

She scowled.

“Megan, you have to choose your own future. Are you going to follow your parents’ plan and marry a nobleman with title and then live the rest of your life in misery? Or are you going to marry a man for love and live happily ever after?”

He closed the space between them and drew her in his embrace. Thankfully, she didn’t pull away. Instead, she rested her hands on his chest.

“Don’t let your parents’ mistakes become your own. I know this lesson very well. You need to live your life for yourself.” He leaned in and kissed her mouth, but she turned her face and broke the sizzling contact.

“Mr. Knight…please.”

He dropped his mouth to her neck and kissed.

“Edmund…don’t do this.”

His name on her lips made him stop. It was nice to have her call him Edmund and not another man’s name. He wasn’t accustomed to walking away from pleasure, but her plea weakened a spot in his heart. He couldn’t continue.

He raised his head, left a brief kiss on her cheek, then stepped away. She swayed slightly but held onto the nearest table for support.

“What are your plans for me, Mr. Knight?”

He hesitated in answering, mainly because his only present plan was to get back the treasure her father had stolen from him. But he couldn’t let her know.

“As of yet, I have no permanent plans.”

“Are you going to say anything about the incident in the cottage?”

“No. For now you can go on with your life, living the lie your parents have forced you into.” Turning on his heels, he walked toward the door.

“Thank you, Edmund,” she said.

Silently cursing, he stormed out of the greenhouse and returned the way he had come.

Chapter Five

Worry mixed with dread bubbled inside Megan as she watched her father pace the floor in their sitting room. She and her mother had just returned from the weekend disaster, and now she waited for her father’s reaction to what her mother had just explained.

Holding tight fists by his side, his face glowed almost as red as his hair. Megan watched for fire to shoot out of his nostrils like a dragon since his temper was just as hot. Across the table from her, Mother’s wrinkled forehead and pursed lips gave evidence to her fury. Both parents aimed their accusing glares toward Megan just as she’d suspected they would.

It wasn’t her fault. How many times did she have to explain she’d only followed her mother’s instructions? She was now grateful she hadn’t told them the identity of the man who spent time with her at the cottage.

Her father’s voice lifted in anger during his tirade, and she cringed. She peeked at the windows, half expecting them to rattle because of his thundering tone. Although she heard everything he said, her attention drifted outside towards the flower garden. Today’s gentle wind teased the petals on the roses. Why couldn’t she be outside enjoying them, instead of having to sit through another of Father’s endless, vitriolic diatribes?

She tuned out the shouting in the dining room and imagined herself in Edmund Knight’s arms where she’d felt safe and protected for a few hours. She closed her eyes, dreaming of being in the warm comfort of his embrace, exactly where she’d been not long ago in the hunter’s cottage. His gentle touch had soothed her, yet at the same time, exhilarated her. And his kisses… She sighed as a smile sneaked across her mouth.

“What about Lord Casteel?” Her father slammed his hand down onto the table so hard, the impact toppled over the lit candle and holder. Megan jumped. Her mother scrambled to pick it up while the Baron patted out the flame.

“Good grief, woman! Can’t anything go right today?” he snapped.

Her mother sat back down and looked at the paper containing a list of names in front of her. “Lord Casteel won’t do, Harold. He was recently betrothed to Lady Lockwood’s daughter.”

“What about that man two seasons ago? What was his name?” He scratched his chin. “Lord Hoff-setter or something.”

“Oh, yes, Lord
Hoffsetler
.” Her mother’s gaze skimmed through the list of names. “I don’t think he’s betrothed.”

“No, he’s not, but—” Megan commented just above a whisper. Her parents looked her way. “He’s a dandy sort of fellow. He’s weak and simpleminded. He’d rather spend time with his hunting dogs than a woman. Not at all what a girl looks for in a husband.”

Her father rolled his eyes heavenward. “What does it matter? He has money and a title, doesn’t he?”

Megan lowered her head, wishing she had kept silent.

“Actually, Harold,” her mother replied. “Gossip has it Lord
Hoffsetler
is almost broke.”

Megan breathed a sigh of relief.

Her father grumbled. “Well, Patrice, who on the list is available and has a fat pocketbook? We don’t have much time. While you two were at the dowager’s party, my mother paid me a visit. She presented one last option before kicking us out of the streets.”

“What is that?” Megan’s mother wondered.

Her father’s face turned a darker red. “She said Megan could we Lord
Thornwyck
.”

“No!” The older woman gasped and dramatically fell against her chair, placing her hand on her chest.

“Who is that?” Megan asked.

“He’s a drunken, vile man,” her father snapped. “Not the sort we want to trifle with. I’ve known him for years, and I would rather not have him marry you.”

The older woman gained composure and straightened. “He’s so old…and despicable.”

Inwardly, Megan winced. Leave it to her heartless, greedy grandmother to find the worst man in London to marry her off to. Megan couldn’t end up with the same fate her mother had suffered through all these years of marriage.

“Nevertheless,” her father continued, “the creditors are hounding me for a payment, and I don’t have it. My mother is losing patience with me as well.” He ran his fingers through his thinning hair. “I would rather not consider Lord
Thornwyck
right now. We still have three weeks before my mother pushes
that man
on us to consider marrying Megan.”

“Let’s see who else we can find.” Her mother looked closer at the paper, staring at each name.

Megan could stand it no longer. This insanity had to stop. Edmund’s words haunted her, making her want to blame her parents for everything. Edmund was right. Why should she have to suffer for her father’s mistakes?

She pushed herself away from the table and stood. “May I say something?” Her mother’s head snapped up, and her father stopped his pacing to glare at her. Megan rushed to continue before she lost the courage. “In my opinion, I think our situation is bleak. Even if we did find a man who would marry me, the fact remains my dowry is depleted. What sort of man wants to marry a woman who has nothing?”

The Baron came toward her, and she held her breath. Beneath the folds of her skirts, she clenched her hands. Hiding her fear, she straightened and lifted her chin. He stopped in front of her, the strong aroma of liquor surrounded him – a smell she had become quite accustomed to of late.

“Girl, what gives you the audacity to speak to me in such a way?” He looked at his wife. “Patrice, I thought you raised her better than this!”

Megan swallowed hard. “This is my life, Father. Shouldn’t I have a say in whom I’m to marry?”

He inhaled sharply. “Do you have your mind in the clouds, child?” His brows creased as he shook his head. “You will marry who we choose, whether he’s a stranger or not.”

“You are not thinking of my happiness, just about bringing money to your pockets. And from what I have observed, marriage to a stranger never made either one of you very happy.” She bit her lip to keep from saying more. Her parents were quiet for a moment. Her mother’s wide eyes stared at her father as if waiting for his response.

He took a deep breath, and then his heated glare disappeared. “Don’t you have faith your parents will see this thing through?”

She shrugged. “I’m only saying what I feel, Father. I have known other girls without dowries, and they don’t marry well. Some have even gone beneath their station when finding a husband. I believe this will be my fate.”

He folded his arms, resting them on the ball of flab his trousers struggled to hold up. “I suppose there’s no other way. I will have to take my losses, but at least I will get you married off before the end of the month.”

“Harold, dear, what are you saying?” Her mother leaned forward in her chair.

He arched an eyebrow, keeping eye contact with Megan. “What if I told you that you do have a grand dowry?”

She bit her lip to keep from being disrespectful and laughing, but a smile tugged at her mouth, nonetheless. “Father, stop jesting. If I had a grand dowry, we wouldn’t be bickering about the wealthiest benefactor right now.”

He shook his head. “I have an ace up my sleeve I haven’t yet played.”

Her mother blew out a gush of air before pushing her chair from the table and standing. “Well, for heaven’s sake, Harold, don’t keep us in suspense. What do you have?”

He grinned and walked to the window. He leaned his shoulder against the wall. “Recently, in a card game, I won a piece of land. It’s worth an impressive amount of money.”

Her mother hurried to his side and touched his sleeve. “Then what’s this fuss with money all about? Why don’t you just sell the land—”

“Because,” Harold interrupted, “it’s an extremely large amount of money. The problem is, nobody knows about it. You see, the deed to the property states the land is across the sea in California. A town called San Francisco, to be exact.”

Megan gasped.

“You cannot be serious, Harold. California?” Her mother’s hand flew to her throat. “Have you even heard what’s going on over there right now?”

“Of course I know what’s going on. I read the newspaper.”