To Win A Wallflower. Liz Tyner

Chapter Twenty-One

       Epilogue

       Extract

       About the Publisher

       Chapter One

      Falling in love with a shadow, a whisper of husky voice or laughter softer than silk, was impossible.

      But when he saw the flash of wrist move in the hallway beyond the door, saw the bracelet slide and heard the innocence, he didn’t care that he hadn’t believed in love until that moment.

      He stilled, only aware of the movements and sounds outside his vision.

      Then she was gone. Footsteps pattered away.

      He took in a breath, trying to hold the moment close, trying not to let the drone of her father’s voice cover the memory of the laughter.

      He shook those thoughts away. Love was for people who didn’t know how to make money. They needed something to hold on to. But Gavin kept saying that Annie would change Barrett’s mind on marriage and love.

      Barrett had wagered to let Gavin out of the obligation incurred from sending him to university and Gavin had put up taking care of their father one day a week. Gavin insisted that Barrett had to spend several days in the Carson household before he could declare himself a winner.

      ‘So tell me, Carson...’ Barrett forced his lips into the closest resemblance to a smile he could manage and leaned closer to the older man. He knew the power of his gaze. Knew the broadness of his shoulders and knew his voice could put more force behind his words than a fist. ‘Tell me more about this flying balloon business you started.’

      ‘It’s the wave of the future.’ Carson hesitated, moving sideways in his chair, fumbling with the cuff of one sleeve that enveloped his wrist, a tremble to his fingers. ‘A wondrous method of transportation.’ He glanced down. ‘But I believe I’ve told you all I know about it.’

      ‘Nonsense.’ Barrett’s trouser legs strained against muscle momentarily when he stood. ‘I’d like to return tomorrow and spend a few days with you. Discussing business, of course. Very important. Your words help shape my decisions. You’ve a wealth of experience, Carson.’ And a wealth of hot air. Carson didn’t understand that he needed to put his efforts into his chandlery shop and bring it up to snuff before starting any new venture, particularly one so nonsensical as flying balloons.

      Carson touched his sleeve in an attempt to straighten a fold of the cloth, but he missed his goal. ‘Do...do you really think that’s necessary?’

      Oh, it had become very necessary the moment Barrett had heard that laugh. He’d not been sure his brother told the truth. But apparently he had. Carson had a daughter who hardly ever attended society events and, Barrett’s brother claimed, was more beautiful than either of her sisters. An impossibility—and if his brother hadn’t had an insistent gleam in his eyes, Barrett wouldn’t have given the words a second thought. Curiosity had propelled Barrett forward and the wager had only cemented his intentions.

      The laughter he’d heard lingered in his head, tantalising him. In that second he’d realised he wanted to see the woman, Annie, and hear her voice again.

      He bowed to Carson. ‘I must thank you for the invitation. I’m quite honoured. I shall arrive tomorrow and I hope seven days is not too short a time for us to become better acquainted.’

      ‘Seven—’ Carson’s voice squeaked at the end.

      ‘I agree wholeheartedly.’ Barrett’s strides could never be considered long, but they were stealth and power in one.

      ‘Until tomorrow, then...’ He turned. ‘And I am almost embarrassed to say this—’ he tapped his thigh ‘—but I’ve a difficulty walking stairs. If you’ve a room on the first storey, that would suffice. Perhaps one with a ray of morning sunlight to brighten my spirits.’

      The woman’s room was on the first storey. He’d see her face.

      Then, to the sound of the man’s gasp, Barrett stepped into the hallway. His brother stood not far from the door. The barest glance was all the acknowledgement Barrett gave to the smug blink as he walked down the stairs.

      ‘Mr Barrett, a moment...?’ His brother’s voice.

      Barrett didn’t stop and Gavin strode behind him, keeping pace.

      At the entryway, Barrett kept walking and he hoped Gavin would take the hint.

      Outside the door, Barrett paused enough to let his brother step beside him. ‘Go away.’ Aware of the many windows around them, he kept his voice soft. ‘I would prefer people not know we are acquainted.’

      ‘I knew you could not resist—the challenge, or seeing her.’ That swagger of Gavin’s head—the same Barrett had seen on his father—sent a sizzle of irritation down Barrett’s spine.

      ‘I still haven’t seen her face,’ Barrett said. ‘I’m curious. Get me a meeting with her. I just want to see what she looks like. That’s all.’

      Gavin held two fingers extended and made a walking movement with his right hand, then he reached out with his left and snapped his hand closed over the fingers. ‘Last words of the unmarried man.’

      ‘My last words are go away.’

      Gavin turned on his heel. ‘Good day, Mr Barrett. Please take a care with those poultices I mentioned.’ His voice rose in volume. ‘They’ll do you well, but be sure you stop with a single one. Otherwise, before you know it, you’ll be trussed up like a big goose waiting for the stewing pot.’

      Gavin bounded back into the house.

      Barrett unclenched his hand, wondering why he’d ever thought it good to have a brother—except Gavin had told him about this woman, Annie.

      His town coach was waiting and Barrett gave a nod to the man in the perch, eyes telling him to keep his seat. Barrett strode to the vehicle door, pulled it open and slid inside with one lunge.

      The awe in his brother’s voice had caught Barrett’s attention when his brother had first spoken of the Carson sisters.

      If it weren’t for the bracelet sliding on her wrist, he might have been able to put her from his mind and wait out the seven-day wager unhindered. But he wondered what kind of face went with such a gentle laugh and what Annabelle Carson looked like.

      He could usually turn his thoughts away from any direction he didn’t want them to go, but he couldn’t close away the question of the appearance of the woman who had such delicate laughter.

      The sound of purity. Unblemished laughter.

      If only she’d stepped into the opening so he could have seen her. He drew a fist up and put his elbow against the side of the carriage, feeling cramped in the close quarters, but still unable to put her from his mind.

      At the soirées and society events he attended, he never paused to look at the innocent ones sheltered by the chaperons. Work did not stop because the sun set and the music started.

      A smile might be halfway on his face, but he put it on much like he did his cravat. He preferred building an empire over having a nice bit of fluff hanging on his arm. The fluff was a weakness for a man who needed adoring eyes gazing up at him in order to build his image of himself.

      Barrett closed his mind to the woman, moving his focus to how he would renovate Carson’s shop, thinking of the light fixtures, and updates to bring the business out of the seventeen hundreds.

      As the carriage slowed at