Dare to Risk it All (Daring Daughters Book 7) Page 8

  They did a circuit of the stones in silence before Greer spoke again.

  “Have you seen Ash recently?”

  Aisling’s blush deepened and the look she gave Greer was reproachful. “No.”

  Greer grinned at her, and they both turned as Elspeth called them.

  “Shall we ride back? It’s getting chilly,” her sister asked.

  The women agreed and made their way back to the horses.

  Greer greeted her mount with a small piece of sugar she’d taken at breakfast. The sweet-natured bay mare, named Lily, nickered and crunched happily as Greer patted her silky neck. She waited for her turn as the men helped the other ladies back into their saddles, a little surprised when Raphe sought her out. It would not have surprised her if he’d avoided her, especially as her mount stood out of sight of the others.

  “Shall I help you up?” he asked, his face impassive.

  Greer nodded, moving aside as he went to check her girth.

  “I already did that,” she said.

  Raphe shrugged. “If I’m helping you up, I prefer to check for myself. I mean no offence. I saw this morning that you’re an excellent horsewoman. You let Ollie win, didn’t you?”

  “He’s just a boy,” she said, smiling, “And I think he hoped to impress Alana.”

  “Ah, yes, the lure of the Cadogan sisters. We’re both doomed, are we not?” He laughed as he pulled the stirrup down, ready for her.

  “You make us sound like a vile disease,” she retorted indignantly, folding her arms.

  Raphe paused before glancing at her over his shoulder. “Perhaps an incurable one,” he murmured.

  Greer’s heart thudded erratically.

  “Well, Alana seems rather smitten. She’s spoken of nothing but Oliver since she got here.”

  Why did she sound so breathless suddenly?

  “Lucky Oliver.”

  He turned around to face her, his blue eyes intent. “What about you?” he asked quietly.

  “Me?”

  He nodded and took a step closer. “Are you smitten?”

  She almost denied it, for the look in his eyes was somehow too serious, but that would be cowardly. Greer never backed down, never ran away.

  “Infatuated,” she replied, gazing up at him as he moved closer still.

  “Yes,” he agreed. “Infatuated. That’s what it is. An infatuation.”

  She nodded, the movement oddly jerky. “Yes, of course. A… mutual attraction. A passing fancy, nothing—”

  “Mm-hm,” he agreed, before ducking his head and kissing her.

  Greer gasped, shocked all over again at the force of desire that swept through her.

  He pulled back, a questioning look in his eyes as she pushed at his chest, though she wanted to urge him closer.

  “Someone will see,” she hissed, aware of the others.

  Raphe pulled her behind the trunk of a gnarled old oak tree and wasted no time in taking her mouth again. Despite her earlier resolution to stay away from him unless they were in company, Greer melted into his embrace. She felt quite unequal to the task of resisting him, everything in her inclined towards him, wanting more and more every time they touched.

  He lifted his head, his breathing ragged. “Christ,” he muttered, staring down at her reproachfully. “What do you do to me?”

  “Me?” she retorted, though it was a wonder she could speak at all, for he had scattered her thoughts so comprehensively. “It’s not me! I’m the innocent here. You’re the libertine. You’re the one doing the seducing!”

  He looked genuinely bewildered. “I’m not, though. At least… not on purpose. I mean to behave, but the moment I get near you—” He shook his head and released her, stepping away as they heard the others calling for Greer.

  “Quickly,” she said, panic sweeping over her. She didn’t want anyone to know what they’d been doing.

  Raphe bent, cupping his hands for her to use as a step and guiding her into the saddle.

  “You need to stay away from me,” he told her grimly.

  Greer looked down at him and returned a sympathetic smile. “I don’t think I can,” she admitted, before she rode away to join the others.

  Dinner that night was an animated affair with everyone in high spirits. The hall looked magnificent, dressed in its Christmas finery of greenery and red ribbons, and everyone had added their own personal touches. Greer, Elspeth, and Alana had made paper garlands, and Aisling had created a wonderful kissing bough, as promised. Suspended from a beam in the grand entrance hall, it was a large ball fashioned from fir branches and decorated with holly and ivy. In the centre, suspended from a red ribbon, was a pear, and from the bottom a fat sprig of mistletoe dangled invitingly.

  Everyone had commented on it as they passed, especially Dare, who had been enthusiastic about kissing Elspeth beneath it before they went into dinner. Greer had laughed as her sister blushed scarlet, but could not help but acknowledge a dreadful pang of envy.

  Only Raphe was quiet, picking at his food and not paying much attention to the conversations buzzing about him. He did not take any wine at dinner, and Greer wondered if it troubled him to abstain. There were no heated looks in her direction, though, or if there were, he was more successful at being discreet about it tonight. He was clearly preoccupied and looked so unhappy that her heart went out to him. She wanted so much to help him. His brothers’ description of his character during their ride had confirmed to her that there was far more to him than he let on. The anger he’d shown Sylvester had not really been aimed at his brother at all, it seemed, but at himself. He believed he was a failure and their difficult situation his fault.

  Sylvester diverted Greer’s attention by calling her name.

  “You will, won’t you, Miss Cadogan?”

  Greer blinked, wondering what she had missed. They would think her woolly-headed indeed if she kept missing the thread of the conversation. “I beg your pardon, Mr Cootes. I am afraid I was elsewhere. What will I do?”

  “Dance with me at the ball tomorrow?”

  Greer smiled, unable to avoid a surreptitious glance at Raphe as she answered. “I should be delighted to.”

  Raphe’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing.

  “I am so looking forward to it,” Elspeth said, her eyes dancing with happiness. “Arabella is such fun, it’s bound to be a hoot.”

  “It will be lively if Bainbridge is involved,” Sylvester observed dryly.

  “You know Lord Bainbridge?” Greer asked with interest.

  Sylvester gestured to a footman who came to refill his wineglass. “Heavens, no. Only what I’ve read of him. I’ll say no more, though, as I believe he’s a good friend of yours, Roxborough?”

  Dare nodded and returned a grin. “The best of friends, yet I’ll not deny he’s a madman. He’s much better behaved since he married Arabella,” he added generously.

  Elspeth raised her eyebrows, and he laughed.

  “Everything’s relative, love. Compared to how he behaved before he married, he’s positively angelic.”

  Sylvester spoke again, turning the conversation back once more. “And you, Lady Aisling. Do you enjoy dancing?”

  Aisling looked rather like a deer caught in a hunter’s sights, stiffening imperceptibly, her large brown eyes widening. She looked down at her plate, where she was nervously cutting a slice of beef into smaller and smaller pieces.

  “If I have an agreeable partner,” she replied, her voice soft and tentative.

  An incorrigible smile flickered at the corner of Sylvester’s lips, giving Greer an odd pang in her chest as she recognised Raphe in the expression. When he spoke again, his voice was gentle, persuasive. “And will you dance with me?”

  There was a telling silence, but it would have been dreadfully difficult for Aisling to refuse him in front of everyone.

  “Of course,” Aisling returned, polite as always, but she did not meet his gaze.

  “I shall look forward to it,” Sylvester said, never taking his e
yes from her.

  The conversation moved on again, with much discussion about tomorrow night’s ball at Royle House. Bainbridge had invited everyone to stay for two nights with them, and Elspeth entertained everyone as she described the opulent building and the marquess’s eccentric father, the duke. Alana and Oliver had their heads together, intent on their conversation and, knowing her little sister, Greer could only wonder what mischief the devil was planning. She was too young to attend the ball, which had thrown her into a temper, because Ollie was going. Greer made a mental note to keep an eye on her. Aisling kicked Greer under the table to get her attention.

  “Come to my room after dinner,” she whispered.

  Greer raised her eyebrows in query, but Aisling just shook her head. Greer nodded her agreement as she would not get an answer now, wondering what it was Aisling wanted to say to her in private.

  Once she had changed and readied for bed, Greer donned her dressing gown. Aisling’s room was next to her own, so she did not have to fret about wandering the house in her nightclothes. Greer gave a soft tap on the door, and Aisling answered it at once, exclaiming happily. She had braided her thick, dark hair in a neat plait, ready for bed, and wore a pretty white nightgown embroidered with daisies, the picture of sweet innocence.

  “Come in,” she said, tugging Greer inside.

  “What is it?” Greer asked.

  “A surprise,” Aisling said, giving her an impish smile as she hurried to her wardrobe and tugged out a large hatbox. “You remember I stayed at Beverwyck for a couple of days before I joined you?”

  “Yes,” Greer said, making herself comfortable on Aisling’s bed.

  “Well, I saw Cat when I was in town, and she said I had to do this as soon as possible. Oh, and then we have to send it back, so she can take it to Grace.”

  “Send what—” Greer faltered as Aisling took the lid of the box with all the flourish of a magician pulling out a rabbit. “The hat!”

  “Yes!” Aisling said, her dark eyes sparkling with delight as she set it down on the bed beside Greer. “I know you took your dare when Arabella and Florence did, but I haven’t, and I wanted you to be here. What was yours, by the way?”

  Greer laughed, remembering her dare. “Oh, good heavens. Mine is a dreadful dilemma. I’m supposed to swap places with someone, but who? And where could I do it? I haven’t yet had an opportunity present itself, but I’m determined I will manage it.”

  “Goodness,” Aisling said, looking horrified at the idea. “Who do you think you could be?”

  “I don’t know, but Mama’s dare was similar, so it seems like fate, don’t you think? She dressed up as Papa’s imaginary male cousin, Bartholomew Camden, which is dreadfully shocking, of course, but that’s Mama for you. Though, things weren’t so ridiculously strict in her day,” Greer added mournfully.

  “She did?” Aisling’s eyes had grown as wide as dinner plates, and she looked rather pale. Greer suspected her enthusiasm for taking a dare was waning by the second. “It does seem like fate, doesn’t it? There’s an element of magic to this hat, I think,” she added, studying it with growing apprehension.

  “Magic?” Greer repeated dubiously. Aisling had always been rather whimsical and prone to flights of fancy, and her interest in myths and folk history was well known, but really...! “How on earth is the hat magic? It’s just full of bits of paper.”

  “Oh, Gee,” Aisling said, climbing on the bed beside her. “It isn’t just bits of paper. Our mothers wrote those dares. They were all hoping for something—for better futures, for confidence, for friends and for husbands, for security—and it wasn’t just for themselves, but for each other. Think of it, all those women believing in something and supporting each other, and now us, the next generation, have added our own to the mix. We’ve begun it all over again. How can there not be fate and magic tied into it? Think of all the love and hope invested in those bits of paper, and how many lives they have changed.”

  A thrill of alarm skittered down Greer’s back as Aisling’s words sank in. “Well, if you put it like that,” she said, staring at the hat in alarm.

  Aisling nodded, her gaze also riveted to the battered old top hat. She swallowed, plucking nervously at her nightgown.

  “Well, I’ve taken mine,” Greer said, very relieved she’d not had this conversation before she’d taken her own, or she might have been a great deal more afraid.

  At the time she’d seen it as a lark, even if her dare had been shocking. She still did not know how on earth she could complete it.

  Aisling took a deep breath and knelt beside the hat.

  “You look like you’re staring into a cauldron or a crystal ball,” Greer said, amused despite her anxiety. After all, it was Aisling’s turn, thank heavens.

  “Not helping, Gee,” Aisling murmured, sending her a reproachful glance.

  “Well, go on, then.”

  Aisling bit her lip. “I know it’s silly,” she said, sounding rather desperate. “But hold my hand?”

  Greer complied at once, secretly not thinking it silly at all. Aisling’s explanation of the power of the hat had set her nerves leaping, and she did not blame the girl for being afraid.

  “Here I go, then,” Aisling said, though she didn’t move, just stared down at the little bits of paper. “I’m going to take one,” she added, still not moving.

  “Aisling,” Greer said, amused now.

  Aisling nodded. “I am. I’m going to. I will… in a minute.”

  “Aisling!”

  “Oh, Gee, I—”

  “Get on with it!”

  Aisling squealed and thrust her hand in the hat, pulling out a tiny slip of paper and dropping it onto the bed as if it had burned her. She covered her eyes with her hands.

  “I can’t look!” she said, breathing hard. “Is it scandalous?”

  Feeling ridiculously reluctant to touch it, Greer picked up the dare. It was a more recent one, the paper new and fresh, clearly written by a Daring Daughter, not a Peculiar Lady.

  “Oh,” she said, as she read the neat handwriting.

  “What?” Aisling asked desperately, peering at Greer through her fingers. “What is it? Is it dreadful?”

  Greer bit her lip, hardly knowing how to reply. “It is a bit dreadful,” she said, struggling to keep her voice even.

  Aisling made a choked sound, dropping her hands from her eyes to cover her mouth. Silently, Greer turned the bit of paper for Aisling to read herself. Leaning in, Aisling looked at the dare, her flushed cheeks turning chalk white as she read aloud.

  “Swim by moonlight, naked—n-naked!” she shrieked, pressing a hand to her heart.

  Greer worried she might swoon.

  “Shhh!” Greer hushed her, dropping the dare and pressing her hand over Aisling’s mouth.

  The poor girl looked terrified. She shook her head, mumbling behind Greer’s palm until Greer released her.

  “I-I-I,” she stammered, shaking her head.

  “Oh, it’s all right, Aisling,” Greer soothed her. “We can arrange it so that we help you. With us all standing guard, so no one sees. It will be fun.”

  “Fun?” Aisling repeated, her voice faint and her eyes taking on a distant, haunted look.

  Greer smiled, remembering just how shy the girl was. Strange, when her mother was such a bundle of mischief, but then Elspeth was far more serious than Greer and Alana, who both took after their mother.

  “It’s fate,” she whispered, as if talking to herself.

  Greer frowned, not understanding. “Fate? Why do you say that? You mean like mine and Mama’s dare?”

  Aisling shook her head, refusing to answer, and gave a despondent sigh. “I’ll catch pneumonia.”

  Greer snorted. “Oh, love. You don’t need to do it at once. I really don’t think dying for your dare is the object. It can wait until the weather is warmer.”

  Aisling nodded, staring down at the innocuous bit of paper like it might bite her. “Yes. I can wait. Until doomsday.”
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  “Until the summer,” Greer amended.

  Aisling tugged nervously at her plait and pulled a face. “I suppose I might have calmed down by then.”

  Greer gave a muffled snort of laughter.

  “It’s all right for you,” Aisling said crossly. “You’re far braver than I am.”

  “Then that’s why you have the dare,” Greer replied with a grin. “You said the hat was magic, didn’t you? So, it’s giving you what you need. A dare to make you bolder.”

  “Hmph,” Aisling said with a scowl, not looking the least bit mollified.

  Chapter 8

  Dearest Evie,

  Yes, I am coming to Beverwyck for Christmas! I thought Papa would never agree to it, for he likes us all to be together for the holidays. Mama persuaded him, though, bless her. She’s such a darling. Though I shall miss them both terribly, I won’t miss my brothers—the beasts. They’re forever underfoot, the great lummoxes. Oh, I am so excited to get away from Scotland and have some fun!

  ―Excerpt of a letter from Lady Georgina Anderson (daughter of Gordon and Ruth Anderson, Earl and Countess of Morven) to Miss Evie Knight (daughter of Lady Helena and Mr Gabriel Knight).

  13th December 1840, Rowsley Hall, Derbyshire.

  The next day, the excited occupants infused the Hall with the fever of anticipation as everyone prepared for Lady Bainbridge’s grand ball. Greer looked up as Alana burst into her room, her cheeks flushed pink.

  “Do you have any ribbon?” she demanded.

  Greer studied her little sister with suspicion. “What for?”

  A stubborn expression settled over Alana’s pretty face, and she folded her arms. “I need some ribbon, that’s all. Do you have any?”

  “Perhaps,” Greer replied, knowing her sister too well to be fobbed off. The girl was sick with jealousy at not being allowed to go to the ball, but if she wasn’t going, she couldn’t need ribbons for her hair. Both she and Ollie had been suspiciously quiet the past few days, and Greer wondered what they had been up to. “But what do you want them for?”

  “Oh, never mind,” Alana huffed, and ran off again.