Read How to Entice an Enchantress Page 5


  He seemed to be struggling with the need to argue, but after a long moment, he gave a curt nod. “Of course.”

  “Excellent!” The duchess scratched the pug’s ear. “I have no idea what Lord Kirk has said in the past about his proclivities for society, but he was certainly eager to attend our Christmas Ball, weren’t you, Lord Kirk?”

  Lord Kirk bowed stiffly, his expression now grim. “I thought it would be most enjoyable.” His dark gaze flickered over Dahlia. “I hope it may still be so.”

  Her grace nodded. “Miss Balfour, you may be unaware of this fact, but Lord Kirk is my godson, just as you are my goddaughter. I knew his mother well.”

  “I had no idea.”

  “Yes, I have so many godchildren that I have trouble keeping up myself. I hope to invite all of them to visit me at some time or another.”

  “Not all at the same time, of course,” Lady Charlotte offered helpfully. “That would be far too many.”

  The duchess smiled and, in what seemed to be a determined effort to start some common small talk, said, “Miss Balfour, Lord Kirk just returned from Edinburgh.”

  That was unusual. Kirk rarely left the grand, rambling castle that made Caith Manor look like a gatehouse. As far as she knew, he only left his home to travel the short distance to Aberdeenshire to fetch purchases, so it was indeed a surprise to find that he’d been elsewhere.

  Despite wishing to appear uninterested, Dahlia asked, “What took you to Edinburgh?”

  “I was—” His gaze flickered to the duchess, a plea in it.

  The duchess hurried to say, “Lord Kirk was rusticating.”

  She frowned. “Rusticating? In a city?”

  A dull color crept into his face. “Yes, for I did not attend any amusements. I had business to attend to.”

  “Ah, business.” The word burned on her tongue as her temper took flame once more. “I daresay that now you’ve used up all of your prospects near Aberdeenshire, after tricking my father into an impossible-to-repay loan, that you must go afield to find more victims for your schemes.”

  “Miss Balfour!” The duchess looked far from happy. “I specifically invited Lord Kirk because I knew he was a neighbor of yours. I thought a familiar face would serve as a reassurance, but I can see now that I was wrong.”

  “I’m sorry, your grace, but I am not on speaking terms with Lord Kirk.”

  His dark gaze locked on her. “You once were.”

  His voice, deep and rich, made her chest tighten. “That was long, long ago.”

  The duchess looked from one to the other before she gave a huge sigh and placed the pug back on the floor. “Miss Balfour, I know about the loan Lord Kirk made to your father.” Lord Kirk slashed the duchess a dark look, but she continued as if she hadn’t noticed. “I’m certain he meant no harm.”

  Lady Charlotte nodded enthusiastically. “Lord Kirk would never harm your father. Why, he was actually trying to help him.”

  “By offering terms that could never be repaid?” Dahlia remembered how wan and frightened her father had been as he’d struggled to deal with the loan, and her heart hardened. “I cannot believe it.”

  The scar near Kirk’s mouth grew white. “You know I’d never intentionally hurt your father or anyone else.”

  “All I know is what you did to my father, who, in a moment of weakness, asked you for a loan he had no right to request.”

  “I didn’t know he couldn’t repay it,” Kirk growled. “And even if I had, I didn’t really care if he repaid it or not.”

  “Then why did you demand that he do so, and so quickly that he was put into a horrid state of terror? He thought he’d lose his house to you!”

  Lady Charlotte tsked. “Her grace and I can explain that. The reason Lord Kirk—”

  “Pardon me, but I can speak for myself.” Lord Kirk’s abruptness and glare reminded Dahlia of the Kirk she knew.

  Oddly reassured, she lifted her chin. “Had you been a gentleman, you would have made certain my father could repay such a loan, and refused him when you determined he could not.”

  “It was precisely because I was a gentleman that I didn’t ask him if he could repay it, but assumed he would when—and if—he chose to do so. As I’ve said, I didn’t care if he ever repaid that damned loan. I had no need of those funds.”

  Dahlia fisted her hands at her side. “But then you pressed him to do so, and pressed him so harshly that my sister felt impelled to ask for her grace’s assistance in marrying a wealthy man in order to offset the ultimate cost to our family, that of losing Caith Manor.”

  He flushed. “There are things you don’t understand. You’ll have to trust that I would never have done so had I known your sister would act in such an impetuous fashion.”

  “Impetuous—oh! You are so arrogant!”

  “And you are so determined to believe I was out to harm your family, for no good reason whatsoever!”

  “You, sir, are a—”

  “Stop it, both of you,” the duchess demanded.

  Lady Charlotte leaned toward the duchess. “Oh, no! Margaret, you do not understand! In but a moment, they will fall into one another’s arms. That’s just how it is in my novels.”

  Dahlia barely heard them, her entire being focused on the man before her. “I know why you demanded my father repay the loan in such a harsh manner.”

  Kirk’s mouth couldn’t have been any grimmer, but he said not one word.

  That spurred Dahlia on. “It’s because I refused your offer of marriage, and you were determined that my family should suffer for it!”

  Shocked silence met this pronouncement.

  “Marriage?” Lady Charlotte turned her wide gaze on Lord Kirk. “You never mentioned you’d already asked for Miss Balfour’s hand.”

  “She refused me. Therefore, there was no reason to mention it.”

  His cold, matter-of-fact tone made Dahlia’s heart thud sickly, and she had to fight an unexpected desire to burst into tears. “I refused because you gave me no choice.” She turned to Lady Charlotte. “He—he—he—” Her voice quavered and, afraid she might indeed indulge in tears, she clamped her lips closed and wished with all of her heart that she had never come into the salon.

  The duchess swiftly moved to her side, grasping Dahlia’s hand between her own. “He what?” the duchess asked. “What did he do?”

  Dahlia ignored Kirk, who stood staring at her with such a blazing expression that she felt she might melt from it. “Lord Kirk asked me to marry him in a way that was—” She shook her head shortly. “I can only say that no woman would ever accept such an insulting proposal.”

  Lady Charlotte’s cupid’s-bow mouth formed a surprised “O.” “Insulting? Did he— Oh goodness, did he proposition you?”

  Dahlia had thought that her cheeks couldn’t possibly get any hotter, but Lady Charlotte’s words proved her wrong. “No, no. Nothing like that!” She took a deep breath. “Lord Kirk said that he wished to marry me in spite of my lack of culture, and the fact that my family was not in a class he wished to associate with.”

  Kirk had to almost physically bite back his irritation. Good God, the way she presented his proposal, it sounded as if he’d been the veriest cad. “That’s not what I said.”

  Her eyes flashed as she said in a heated tone, “Oh? What did you say, then?”

  Three sets of accusing eyes fixed upon him. “I spoke nothing but the truth. I said that in spite of the fact that you’d led such a sheltered life—which you have—and are thus ignorant in the way of culture—which you are—and in spite of the fact that your family has little to recommend it as a fortuitous connection—which even you must admit to be true—that I nevertheless wished to marry you.”

  Lady Charlotte continued to look shocked, while the duchess’s expression grew black. Dahlia, meanwhile, glared at him in a very hostile manner.

  He scowled back. “Damn it all, what was wrong with that? All I did was tell the truth. And in spite of all of those issues, I still wished
to marry Dahlia, which is surely worth something.”

  None of them looked the least bit convinced.

  Dahlia sniffed. “I can assure you, it was the easiest of all proposals to refuse. But had I known the extent to which you were willing to go to punish me for that refusal, I might have—”

  “Punish? I did no such thing.”

  “Then why did you offer my father such a horrid loan?”

  “Because he asked for one. I didn’t pay attention to the conditions, which were not what they should have been, I admit, thanks to my man of business—but revenge had nothing to do with it.”

  “Ha! You’ll never convince me of that, Lord Kirk. Ever.”

  He absently rubbed his cheek, where the scar pulled. I’ve gone through hell and back to change myself, and all she can think about is the past. What a bloody waste of two months.

  It was unacceptable. He hadn’t learned how to bow and dress and act like a trussed-up bobkin just to be dismissed within moments. He tightened his grip on the cane knob. “Dahlia, blast you, you know that I would never—”

  “Lord Kirk,” Lady Charlotte interrupted, her eyes so wide that she looked like a flustered rabbit. “Perhaps we should allow Miss Balfour to retire. I’m certain she’s exhausted from her travels.” She looked hopefully at Dahlia. “Aren’t you?”

  Dahlia lifted her chin, her fine gray-blue eyes still frosty, the wide brim of her bonnet framing her heart-shaped face. “Actually, yes. I am very tired from my journey.”

  “Then you must rest,” her grace interceded, sounding relieved. “There are several hours before dinner. A maid should be unpacking your things now should you wish to call for a bath or a light repast.”

  “Thank you. That’s too kind.”

  Lady Charlotte nodded. “I can’t ride in a coach myself without feeling as if someone has beaten me with a broom handle. I’m sure you’ll feel better for a hot bath and a nap.”

  “Thank you.” Dahlia curtsied to the duchess and Lady Charlotte. “You’ve both been too kind.” She then gave Kirk a very shallow, very cold bow. “Good day, my lord.”

  Without waiting for an answer, she turned on her heel and marched out, the picture of fluffed outrage.

  Kirk winced as the door slammed behind her.

  The duchess turned her sharp blue gaze his way. “Well, Kirk? What have you to say for yourself?”

  “Yes, you never mentioned you’d already asked Miss Balfour for her hand in marriage,” Lady Charlotte added.

  “As I said before, she refused me, so I didn’t see the need to say anything about it.”

  The duchess threw up her hands. “Didn’t see the— Good God, how are Charlotte and I to promote your suit if you keep secrets from us?”

  “Horrible secrets,” Charlotte echoed. “Did you really say such wretched things during a proposal?”

  “They didn’t seem wretched at the time. I was trying to explain that, despite her lack of experience with the world and her family’s lack of standing, I thought her so superior as to offer for her hand despite all I could hold against her. How is that a wretched thing to say?”

  Lady Charlotte shook her head, her lace cap fluttering. “Did you at least tell her that you found her pretty? Intelligent? Interesting?”

  “She knew I thought those things or I’d hardly have offered to get leg shackled to begin with.”

  “Good God,” her grace snapped. “I daresay you didn’t even offer the chit a decent ring, did you?”

  “I had one that belonged to my mother,” he replied stiffly. “It’s not very pretty, which I admitted to her. In fact, it’s damned ugly—but it was all I had on hand.”

  Lady Charlotte pinched her nose and shook her head. “Oh dear, oh dear.”

  “What’s wrong with that? It’s a family heirloom.”

  “You poor, poor man. You don’t really know, do you?”

  “Know what?” he snapped, irritated by the whole situation.

  Her grace sighed. “You’ve much further to go than we thought.”

  “How much further can I go? Look at me! I’m dressed like a popinjay, my hair has been cut like a damned dandy’s, and I’ve been forced to learn mawkish manners and mealymouthed pleasantries until I can’t stand to hear myself speak. And for what? She’s not in the room two minutes before she’s bringing up the past and telling me in no uncertain terms that she wishes I were to go to Hades. And damn it, after all of this, that’s where I wish I were, too!”

  “You must give it time. Give her time. It appears she has more to recover from than we realized.”

  Kirk turned and made his way back to the fireplace, where he stared into the flames. “I told you she wouldn’t wish to see me, fine clothing or no. She is furious with me, and I don’t blame her. The terms of the loan were horrible.”

  “How did that come to be?”

  “I instructed my man of business to write up the loan. It never dawned on me he would write one that was other than fair.”

  “Ah. And since you never really expected to collect on the loan, you didn’t examine the terms first.”

  “Exactly. I dismissed him once I found out, but by then it was too late—the loan had been signed, and Dahlia viewed it as evidence that I am a man without a conscience.”

  “What a coil.”

  “Indeed.” Kirk placed a hand against the marble mantel and leaned against it.

  “Still . . . I remain hopeful,” the duchess said.

  “Then you are more an optimist than I.”

  “I am more experienced in matters of the heart, Kirk. I have hope for a reason.”

  His dark gaze turned toward her. “Why? Did you see something?”

  “Perhaps.” The duchess bent to pat one of the pugs who was staring up at her with a hopeful expression. “For now at least, perhaps you should leave Miss Balfour to Lady Charlotte and myself.”

  “You think you can help?”

  “It’s not in my nature to abandon a potential match merely because there are a few difficulties.” She pursed her lips. “However, it is a setback that Charlotte and I didn’t know the full of your history”—she fixed a hard gaze on him—“which we should have.”

  “I’ve already explained that.”

  “Humph. Because of that, Miss Balfour was not prepared for our meeting. Had Charlotte and I known the extent of the history behind you, we might have softened that blow, but we were not given that opportunity. There’s nothing to be done now but press forward. Now that Dahlia has seen you, she won’t be surprised again.”

  “Yes, but she won’t speak to me. She hasn’t said a word to me in months until today, and you saw how furious she is.” He gave a helpless shrug. “She’ll have none of me.”

  “Things will be different here. Good manners will prevent her from ignoring you when you’re with the other guests. Those same good manners will force her to speak to you whenever you are together. That should give you time to mend those broken fences of yours, and perhaps forge newer, pleasanter memories.”

  Kirk rubbed his neck, feeling a dull ache behind his eyes. All he wanted was to bridge this gulf that had grown between him and Dahlia. Why was it so hard? It seemed that the more he wished for it to happen, the less likely it would be so. He looked at the duchess. “Tell me the truth: do you think I have a chance?”

  She hesitated, but finally said, “Yes, but it won’t be easy. There’s much to overcome and not much time in which to do it.”

  He looked down at his hand, clenched about the cane knob. Hope. That’s all I have. But if there is even the smallest chance . . . He sighed. “Fine. I will do what I can to make it so.”

  “Excellent. Charlotte and I shall come up with a plot to allow you some time to speak with Miss Balfour. You, meanwhile, will find a compliment or two you can pay that poor girl.”

  “Oh yes,” Lady Charlotte agreed. “You owe her some compliments.”

  “Flowers, too,” her grace added.

  “And a poem, if you can find the tim
e to write one.”

  “A poem?”

  Lady Charlotte nodded. “Yes, but not about her eyes. Everyone writes about a woman’s eyes, and really, what can be said other than they shine like a lamp or a star or—”

  “Hold. I don’t write poetry.”

  “No? That’s a pity, for if you were to write a poem about her mouth or her hair or— It would be the very thing, I’m certain of it.” Lady Charlotte peeped hopefully at him. “Are you absolutely certain you can’t write a poem, even a short one?”

  “Bloody hell, no!” Catching the duchess’s suddenly stern gaze, he swallowed a growl. “Tomorrow, after I’ve some time to think it through, I’ll ask MacCreedy to procure some flowers. I’m sure I can think of a compliment or two, as well. But the poetry—damn it. It’s not in me to write an ode.”

  “That’s a great deal too bad.” Lady Charlotte looked mournful.

  “You might at least try to write one,” her grace said calmly. “Not for tonight, of course. However, there’s plenty of time between now and tomorrow’s dinner.”

  His shoulders ached as if every word they’d said were weighing them down. With a sigh, Kirk rubbed a hand over his face. “Good God, is there to be no end to this?”

  “Oh, there will be an end,” her grace said, a sharp note in her voice. “Hopefully it will consist of a proposal and a happy acceptance. That is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

  For one sweet moment, he imagined Dahlia as she’d once been, smiling at him, talking about the last book she’d read, sharing secrets with such open trust— His heart ached at the thought. It’s been so long since she’s smiled at me. Every day seems a year. “Fine. I’ll see what I can do, but don’t expect a miracle.”

  “We won’t expect anything except your best effort.” The duchess noted the darkness in Lord Kirk’s eyes, and once again she wondered how entangled his heart had become. He was such an enigmatic man that it was difficult to tell. “Have heart, Alasdair. This may be a difficult case, but it is far from hopeless.”