Collector of Hearts Read online

  ‘Why you are avoiding me. You said only yesterday we should act normal and yet it is obvious to all you haven’t spoken a word to me all day.’

  He turned and took a step towards her. ‘I thought it would make you happy. You were angry with me so... I stayed away.’

  She shook her head. ‘Robert.’

  He closed his eyes for a moment and then looked at her again. ‘Don’t come any closer.’

  ‘What are you so afraid of? That I might know you for who you really are?’

  ‘Stop! The man you think I am doesn’t exist. He’s a figment of your imagination.’

  Arabella went to him, took his hand in hers and placed her other hand against his cheek. Confusion filled his eyes. She pressed her lips to his. At first he did not move. Then he suddenly lifted her to sit on the table. He kissed her in a way he had never done before, savagely, uncontrolled. It thrilled her to her toes. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, satisfied when she heard the groan from deep in his throat. He did want her, and with the same desperation she wanted him. His hand made its way under her skirt and she jerked at the feel of his hands on her thigh. No man had ever touched her like this. She threw her head back and let her body take in the sensations of his fingers at her apex. He parted her, probed gently. At the same time his lips kissed along her collarbone, the hollow of her shoulder and the exposed flesh of her breasts. All the while the world spun, in a delightful delirium of sensation, around her. A tightening deep inside her made her gasp and cry out in pleasure.

  ‘I may not be able to have you but I can bring you pleasure, just this once,’ he whispered. He stifled her cry with another deep kiss. His hands caressed over her arched body, calming her. ‘I wish I could give you what you want but believe me, you don’t want a man like me.’

  As he began to retreat, she locked her arms around his neck, still breathless from the rush of sensation still vibrating through her. ‘Why do you decide what I want? I want you, the man who is here now.’ Her voice was soft and still slightly trembling.

  ‘This man you imagine is not real. Let him go.’

  ‘He is real,’ she whispered in his ear. ‘He is here, with me. I see him in your eyes. I feel him on your lips. Set him free, let him love me. Let him be happy.’

  His hands left her, went to her waist; not to pull her closer but to set her off the table. Arabella gasped at the suddenness of his movements.

  With voice low he said, ‘I wish I could, but I won’t give you hope where there is none. I will just make you unhappy. I realise this now. I forfeit the game to you. You’ve won.’ He turned to leave.

  She found herself blinking, her legs barely holding her upright. ‘You feel nothing for me?’ She saw the pain in his eyes, and anger too.

  ‘Don’t do this.’

  Well, she was angry too. ‘Answer my question!’

  He walked past her, but his chest was heaving and his movements were laboured, as if he was fighting every step.

  ‘I knew you were a reprobate but I never took you for a coward, Robert.’

  He hesitated in the doorway. She braced herself for his anger but instead he left with his head lowered. She fell heavily into a chair and gasped for air.

  Closing her eyes, she replayed everything that had just happened. His actions spoke volumes about how he felt about her. She let her lips slowly lift into a smile and stifled a laugh. A man who had just as much said he did not love her had just demonstrated how much he did love her. He had finally shown his hand and it was the Ace of Hearts.

  ***

  Arabella looked at the package again. It had been sitting on her bed now for near to an hour. What harm would it do to open it? She picked it up and untied the string, then slowly turned the package over, allowing the brown paper wrapping to unfold. It was a shawl, a sumptuous silk shawl in lemon-yellow with golden tassels. A small note fell from beneath the folds. Sunshine and smiles, was all it said in Robert’s handwriting. Tears stung her eyes. ‘Oh Robert!’ He really did love her, the big idiot. She was certain of it now. She hugged the shawl to her chest and then rested it back onto the paper.

  But wait, surely he didn’t leave a gift like this for every woman who he had failed to pursue? What did this gift mean? She had to ask Quinn, he would know if this was an unusual occurrence. But what if he did, what then? She didn’t want to get her hopes up, even though her desperate heart was soaring to the moon. She went in search of Isabelle, knowing she would find Quinn with her.

  They were strolling in the sunshine and holding hands. Quinn was whispering something in Isabelle’s ear and she was laughing in obvious delight. Arabella called out to them and they beckoned her over.

  ‘Join us.’ Quinn’s expression was one of apology, as if it was his fault Robert had left.

  ‘Thank you. I am sorry if I interrupted something.’

  ‘No, we were discussing where to go on our honeymoon,’ Isabelle replied, her smile as bright as the sun above them.

  ‘Oh, how lovely. Have you made a decision yet?’ She took the arm Quinn offered.

  ‘No, not yet. Isabelle cannot decide whether it is to be the sun and the sea or the wilds of the Lake District.’

  ‘Such a decision requires careful thought,’ Isabelle said with a twinkle in her eye. ‘Which reminds me, I must go and check on Mother. No, stay Bella, talk to Quinn.’

  As Isabelle left, Quinn indicated they go in the direction of the summer garden.

  ‘My sister never ceases to amaze me with her perceptiveness,’ Arabella shook her head as she watched her sister walk back towards the house.

  ‘Your sister never ceases to amaze me either. I am extremely lucky.’

  ‘Yes, you are and don’t you ever forget it.’ Arabella plucked a leaf from a nearby hedge.

  ‘Shall we walk while you question me about Robert?’ Quinn raised a brow.

  ‘How did you know I wanted to ask you about him?’

  ‘Come now, Bella.’ He laughed, patted her arm. ‘You are not that different from your sister. You both wear the same expression when something is bothering you. Unfortunately, you have been wearing this expression far too often of late.’

  ‘I suppose Isabelle has told you anyway, and if you dare laugh at me I will kick you,’ she gave him a smirk.

  ‘You are more like your sister than just in looks, I see.’ They turned down the path. ‘I understand you find yourself in love with him. Ah, Bella. Don’t be embarrassed. You are not the first to fall for his … whatever it is he seems to possess. I did try to protect you.’

  ‘And I thank you for that. I know you did it with the best of intentions. Oh, but Quinn he loves me, I am sure of it! Yet he has convinced himself he can be nothing more than friends with me.’

  Quinn ducked his head. ‘Well, that may be my fault, actually. I warned him off weeks ago. ‘

  ‘The morning of the carriage ride.’

  ‘Yes. It was the only way I knew to keep you safe. I didn’t know then you would fall in love with him. I had hoped you wouldn’t. I’m not sure you understand what you are getting yourself into. He’s... damaged.’

  ‘I know, but not why.’ She picked a sprig of forget-me-nots and began to pull the petals off. ‘Quinn, you’re his friend. What do you think? Could there be a chance, even the remotest possibility he may actually love me too?’

  ‘Frankly, I think you scare him to death.’ Quinn picked another forget-me-not and handed it to her to destroy. ‘Maybe that is why he’s running.’

  ‘I thought as much. He left me a … gift before he went.’

  Quinn’s eyebrow cocked. ‘A gift, you say?’

  ‘Yes, a lovely silk shawl.’

  ‘I see.’ Quinn’s face was serious and his brows knitted together.

  ‘What does it mean? Is he in the habit of giving gifts to women, Quinn?’ she asked, desperately needing to know even as part of her was unsure she wanted the answer.

  Quinn studied her face before he raised his gaze to the sky a
nd laughed. ‘Well, I’ll be damned!’ At her confused expression, he explained. ‘Oh, ho. He’s fallen all right. He must be head over heels in love with you,’ he stated. ‘The only woman he has ever given gifts to is his mother.’

  Could she believe it? ‘Why would he do it? Because he feels guilty?’ She remembered now he had told her he only gave his mother gifts to ease his conscience.

  Quinn must have seen her crestfallen face. ‘Robert loves his mother. She is probably the only person he would admit unflagging love for. He would not have bothered with a gift if he did not care for you.’ They strolled along the path for a little longer.

  Quinn stopped and turned to her. ‘He once said to me I only remained his friend because I wanted to save him. It was partly true, but I failed and I am now happy for the job to fall to you. He is a man fighting against himself, Bella. A man capable of many good things, things no one else would ever know about, or even appreciate. He just doesn’t believe he deserves anything of real goodness. That’s why he searches night after night. The distressing thing is, I don’t think he even knows what he’s looking for,’ Quinn finished with a sad smile. Arabella then understood how very much Quinn cared about Robert. ‘And here you are, right under his nose. He can be a good man again, capable of being true to himself, but it has been so long since he has let that man be real, he has forgotten who he really is.’

  ‘I think you are right. I want to convince him he has always been there. You have seen the same or you would not have had reason to stay his friend for so long.’

  ‘True, though sometimes he makes it very hard for me to remember that.’ He chuckled and she smiled.

  ‘How did he become the Collector of Hearts? Please, Quinn, I have to know.’

  Quinn’s expression, a combination of sadness and hope, made her heart squeeze. ‘Oh, Bella, you ask me to reveal too much.’

  ‘Was it the duel? The one where the man died?’

  ‘There is more to it than just the duel.’

  ‘Tell me why he wanted to jump into the Thames. Please.’ She sounded desperate, even to herself.

  Quinn shook his head. ‘Bella.’

  Her eyes widened and her hopes soared. Finally, she may find out what happened that day. ‘He told me it was the worst and best day of his life. It was the day you both became friends.’

  Quinn nodded ‘It is a day neither of us is likely ever to forget. It changed not only Robert’s life, but mine too. So he didn’t tell you why he wanted to jump?’

  ‘No, I was hoping you would tell me. I must know why he acts so. Why he disregards women and …’

  ‘Asks for death?’ Quinn finished for her.

  ‘Yes.’ Arabella felt breathless. Was Quinn about to tell her Robert’s deepest darkest secret? ‘Please, Quinn! I can’t help him if you don’t help me.’

  ‘Bella.’ His tone was distraught. ‘I can’t. It is not my place. You must ask him. No one but Robert can tell you the whole story. Even I don’t know the whole of it. All these months, Bella, there has only been you on his mind. If you can forgive him his foolish actions and love him for all his faults, I give you nothing but my blessings.’

  ‘Thank you, Quinn, for everything. For loving my sister. For trying to protect me and for caring enough about both Robert and me. I know it has not been easy for you.’

  ‘Make him happy. It is all I could ever ask of you in return,’ Quinn stated and placed a kiss on her forehead.

  ‘I intend to,’ she replied with determination. ‘If he will let me.’

  Quinn threw his head back and laughed again. ‘To London we go then.’

  ***

  Had she found his gift? He wasn’t even sure why he’d ridden all the way to the village and bought it. A five-minute fancy? Hardly. It had taken him an hour to ride there, almost a half hour of torture to choose the damn thing, an hour at the tavern staring at it like the village idiot and then the hour back to the Hall.

  He had been kicking himself in the backside mentally over it ever since. She was no doubt confused why he had given it to her. Hell, he wished he knew why he’d done it. She was not his mother! He expected it to arrive in the mail, cut up into a million pieces, with a note saying ‘Rot in hell’ or something equally justified.

  He was sitting in his parlour with a bottle of claret at his side and a warm fire at his feet. He gave a little laugh, he was at home, at night, by himself. He could hardly entertain the irony of it. Quinn would think him ill. His valet had asked him if he was. He was sick—heartsick—and he disliked the feeling immensely, but was at a loss what to do about it. In vain he had fought against her, against his own feelings.

  The truth? He missed her already, but that was ridiculous, wasn’t it? He missed kissing her, he missed looking at her, he missed teasing her and he missed playing with her curls when others weren’t watching.

  He missed talking to her.

  He should have gone out tonight, he should have made himself do it, but now it was too late. He was already suffering from the effects of too much alcohol, no food and little sleep. He would pay dearly for this come morning but he almost looked forward to the pain. It couldn’t possibly be worse than the pain he was suffering now. He grabbed the bottle. Perhaps if he drank enough he would drown in his own misery and that would be an end to it.

  Chapter 17

  Robert groaned audibly when he saw Shacklesbury’s cousin, the poet, come into view. Robert saw the moment Justin Archer saw him, and the moment he decided he would make a beeline for him and the moment he decided to put on that annoying grin of his.

  ‘Evening, Shelton.’ Barton stood beside Robert, surveying the ballroom.

  ‘Barton,’ Robert nodded. ‘Thought you were writing sonnets about sunsets and mountain tops somewhere on the continent?’

  He sighed dramatically. ‘I was, but now I am back. It has made me realise English women are so much more to my taste. Continental women can be so … flighty.’

  He chose not to respond, mostly because he really didn’t care.

  ‘I am looking for a wife, actually, thought it about time to beget an heir. Yes, an English rose would be just the thing, don’t you think? A beauty with dark hair and eyes, the kind that will warm my bed and fill my nursery. You must know the type; they are usually the ones you avoid.’

  ‘Indeed. Well, I wish you luck.’ Trust Barton to describe Arabella to a tee, and to make it worse all he could do was picture her in his head now. He’d spent a week trying to get her out—not that he’d been very successful.

  ‘Thank you. On the prowl, are we?’ Barton asked.

  ‘Maybe.’

  ‘Maybe? That doesn’t sound like you. Finally got sick of mist-shrouded fields at dawn, have you?’

  ‘I’ll indulge you, if that’s your wish.’

  The poet held his hand up in surrender. ‘My God, but we are testy this evening. Is she here tonight?’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Why, the object of your depression, old boy.’ Barton patted him on the shoulder.

  Robert shrugged away from him and slouched against the wall, trying to show himself in a more relaxed pose. He knew Justin was teasing him but could not know how close to the quick he was getting. ‘There is no object.’

  ‘So it’s the weather then. All this confounded sun can really put a—’

  ‘I am not upset about anything, except maybe with you, because frankly, you are becoming bothersome,’ Robert growled.

  Justin laughed and that bothered him even more.

  ‘Well, well. Who are those delectable creatures, I wonder?’ Barton spared a glance at Robert before indicating Shacklesbury, his mother and …

  She was here and she was wearing his gift. More beautiful than the last time he saw her, she smiled at her sister and handed her shawl over to a footman.

  Oh Lord, what did this mean? Was she wearing it because she had accepted his gift and the apology it was meant to represent, or for some other reason?

  ‘Who are they?’ Justin
asked.

  Robert had forgotten Barton was there, so full of a bittersweet joy at seeing her. ‘Who?’

  ‘The two women next to Amy.’

  ‘Oh, Miss Isabelle Fleming and Miss Arabella Fleming.’

  ‘How intriguing. I hadn’t realised Quinn’s fiancée was a twin. My goodness but they’re stunning, like water nymphs, escaped from their watery cave to grace us with their ethereal beauty and lure us to our deaths.’

  Good God, was he sprouting that nonsense on purpose to irritate him? He couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

  ‘You know them, Shelton. What is she like?’

  ‘Isabelle?’

  ‘No, the other one,’ Barton insisted.

  ‘Arabella is... none of your business.’

  ‘Now that isn’t nice.’

  Shelton didn’t reply, too entranced by Arabella, but when he glanced at Justin he found him staring at her, too. The gauzy pale-blue ball gown had a fashionably low neckline, which showed off her curves to every man in the room. Her shiny dark tresses were piled up high and small curls lay against her forehead and cheeks, directing one’s gaze to her glorious brown eyes, which were large and bright and looking their way.

  Barton breathed in dramatically. ‘Good Lord, but she’s an angel.’

  He resisted the urge to poke Barton’s eyes out. ‘Don’t even think about it,’ he warned him.

  Barton grinned. ‘I’m not going to think about it. I’m going to do it,’ he announced as the group finally came to a stop in front of them.

  ‘Barton. Shelton,’ Lady Shacklesbury said, allowing the two gentlemen to make their bows. ‘Barton, let me introduce you to Quinn’s fiancée and her sister. This is Miss Isabelle and Miss Arabella Fleming.’ She waved in their general direction.

  Barton grinned. ‘I was hoping I would meet your lovely fiancée before the wedding, Shacklesbury. I’m delighted.’ He looked over at Arabella and winked. ‘How ever do you tell them apart, Quinn?’ He didn’t wait for Quinn to answer. ‘Miss Arabella? I’m assuming I have the right one, seeing as your sister is clutching Shacklesbury so devotedly.’