Page 47 of To Follow her Heart

All Luke’s boyish dreams returned to him, but he was a boy no more, and he had something to fight for, something to believe in. There was no prison of Trevick’s devising that could hold him now.

After they had presented the trophies, there was a deal of congratulating and commiserating, and Luke made himself scare for a while. If he stayed, the temptation would be to steal away with Kitty and he dare not risk it.

“Luke.”

His heart sank as he heard Mr Derby call after him. The dratted fellow had caught him just as he was about to enter the house, and he forced Luke to a halt.

“What in the name of heaven did you think you were doing?” he asked in a fierce undertone, as he took Luke’s arm and yanked him to one side. “Telling Lady Frances you would not offer for her? I’ve reassured her as best I can, but she’s already dangling after St Clair again. If you’re not very careful, you’ll burn your boats.”

“I believe I set the fires with intent, Mr Derby,” Luke replied with outward calm though his heart thudded in his chest.

Not that he was afraid any longer, but he would let nothing interfere with his plans. Whilst he would not tell an outright lie—that would be dishonourable—he must not give himself away, must not give Mr Derby an inkling of his intent.

“I shall not marry Lady Frances,” he said, holding Mr Derby’s gaze unflinchingly.

“You still intend to marry the chit, then?” Derby sneered.

Luke paused, considering his options. On the one hand, he wanted very badly to break Mr Derby’s nose. On the other, tomorrow he would run away with Kitty to get married, and he’d not let anyone stop him. Assaulting Mr Derby, whilst satisfying, would not do any good.

“I’m not sure I’m ready to marry just yet,” he said carefully, after all it wasn’t a lie, he hadn’t packed his belongings. If he made his intentions too obvious, Derby might guess what they meant to do. “Not just yet, but I cannot set aside my feelings for Kitty, that is for certain.”

Mr Derby took a breath, perhaps believing he had a chance to mend the situation.

“You are young yet,” he said, the jovial uncle expression flickering briefly, if unconvincingly across his face. “Perhaps we have been too hasty. Why do we not leave talk of marriage for a few months? I’m sure I could persuade both Trevick and Lymington to be a little more patient with you, if you meet us halfway. Don’t make a fool of yourself over your Irish beauty. Dally with her, by all means, but be discreet. That way, if you were to change your mind… there’s no harm done.”

Luke regarded Mr Derby. He hadn’t the slightest doubt that, after this interval at Holbrooke House, he’d be hustled before the earl and browbeaten into submission. When he’d had little interest in what happened to him, it would have worked. Ignoring with difficulty Mr Derby’s less than polite ideas on how to treat Kitty, Luke gave a taut nod.

“I’ll think on it, sir, I can say no more than that.”

“That’s all I ask,” Mr Derby said, nodding gravely. “No one could ask more.”

Luke forced himself not to grimace and hurried away as fast as he could. Well, at least he’d escaped without raising Mr Derby’s suspicions. That was something.

***

Matilda took Bonnie’s arm as they ambled back to the house, wishing she didn’t feel like such a wretched nag as she tried to talk some sense into the girl. “I know he’s great fun, but really, you must try to—”

“Be more ladylike, yes, I know,” Bonnie said, looking so glum that Matilda’s guilt only grew. It seemed so unfair to squash all the life and spirit from the girl, but she would get herself into a deal of trouble if she didn’t have a care.

“Mr Cadogan is very handsome and very charming, but—”

“But he’d not marry a girl like me in a million years,” Bonnie snapped, pulling her hand free of Matilda’s arm. She glared at Matilda in defiance but then she took a deep breath and her face fell. “I’m sorry,” she said with a sigh. “Only it’s not that I don’t know it, and you’re hardly the first person to point it out.”

“Then why—?”

“Because I’m doomed,” Bonnie said, throwing up her hands. “I’ve not fortune enough to tempt a husband to overlook my mouth and my manners, but I’m damned if I’ll pretend to be something I’m not. How awful for some poor man to marry me thinking I was sweet and docile and then to discover—” She broke off as the words began to tremble a little.

“To discover you are vibrant and witty and fun and full of joy,” Matilda said, taking her arm again.

Bonnie snorted. “If you say so.”

“I do.”

“My time’s almost up,” Bonnie said, her voice dull. “I’ll be married to Gordon Anderson by Christmas and banished to some isolated corner of Scotland, and I’ll see none of you ever again. I’ll have a dozen children, and get fat and boring, and that’s about the best I can hope for.” She turned back to Matilda, her expression bleak. “I just want to have some fun before it’s too late, Matilda. Is that so wrong?”

Matilda felt her heart ache for the girl, guilt a heavy weight in the pit of her stomach. Surely her fears about marrying Mr Burton were nothing in the face of such a fate? She ought to be thanking her lucky stars not bemoaning the fact she didn’t love him or feel any spark between them. Poor Bonnie had no say whatsoever in what happened to her, unless she could convince some eligible man to wed her. Matilda reached out to her, stroking her cheek. “No, love. Not in the least. It’s only that I worry for you.”

Bonnie nodded and gave a smile. “Mother hen,” she said, taking the hand at her cheek and squeezing the fingers.