A Warriner To Rescue Her. Virginia Heath

when the liar happened to be his own daughter.

      He lifted his head and stared at her quizzically. ‘I did?’

      ‘Yes! I was about to make your favourite spiced fruitcake. Why don’t we postpone our visit to that family until tomorrow?’ By which time Cassie might well have thought of something to prevent her father from ever darkening their door.

      ‘You would put cake above the saving of souls?’

      ‘But, Papa—I was so looking forward to making it for you today.’ Pleading to his better nature had not worked once in all of her twenty-one years, but still Cassie persisted. Her father smiled his benevolent I-know-better-than-you smile and took her hand, a gesture so uncharacteristic it took Cassie completely by surprise. ‘I know what this is about.’

      ‘You do?’ Surely he had not been apprised of her unaccompanied visit to the family or, heaven forbid, her sinful behaviour in the apple orchard?

      ‘Yes, and it does you credit. You are a God-fearing girl, Cassandra, and being exposed to the godless frightens you. But fear not. You shall be with me and that heathen family will see what a good example you are of my teachings.’

      ‘But I would rather not do it today. Just this once, Papa, could we...?’

      ‘No! You are a dutiful daughter Cassandra. Being dutiful means doing those things one might find unpalatable without complaining.’

      ‘But...’

      ‘Your mother was headstrong and weak-willed, Cassandra. Do I now see that unfortunate trait rearing its ugly head in you?’ He was peering at her closely, looking, no doubt, for evidence to support his suspicion. Again her fingers grazed the heavy key in her pocket. For the moment it was still hers although that could change in a heartbeat. ‘You must fight the temptation, girl!’ Cassie schooled her features and tried her best to seem compliant, because being compared to her mother always kindled his anger and then her bedchamber door would be locked again.

      ‘No, Father, I merely wanted to make you a cake...’ Tears were prickling her eyes as she forced herself to try one last time to escape the ordeal of watching him castigate an innocent family whilst selfishly still avoiding the ordeal of being imprisoned.

      ‘You will do as you are told, Cassandra.’ He stared pointedly at the stairs until she capitulated with a terrified nod. ‘We will leave within the hour.’

      * * *

      Jamie had spent most of the day riding Satan around the grounds. There was nothing out of the ordinary in that. He rode every single day, for goodness sake, because he enjoyed being out in the sunshine so it was hardly tangible proof he was being pathetic. Nobody apart from him knew he had lingered for the better part of an hour at the edge of the riverbank or that he had rode up and down every row of trees in the orchard until Satan’s hooves threatened to carve out a deep trench in the ground. And certainly nobody had any idea he did so in the faint hope he would ‘accidentally’ bump into the delectable Miss Reeves again.

      As if she would have been tempted to visit again after his clumsy, and doubtless unwelcome, attempt at flirting with her. Pretty girls who wore saucy garters and had the sort of figure which would make any man sit up and beg like a dog were not likely to be particularly enamoured of a crippled former soldier who was afraid of the dark. He sincerely doubted she had given him so much as a passing thought since she had ridden away from him. Unfortunately, Jamie could not say the same.

      He had done a great deal of thinking about her. Aside from her acute physical attractiveness, and the garters that tormented him, there was something quirky, unusual and refreshingly unique about the vicar’s daughter which appealed to him. Maybe because he was prone to being serious and she did, as she said herself, border on the ridiculous—but it was her ridiculousness which was so utterly charming. Jamie had never met anyone who imagined animals talked before, or who climbed trees and got stuck in them or who thought carrots were a gift. Or maybe all of this mooning had come about because Miss Reeves had been the first woman he had touched since his injury...

      With a sigh, he limped out of the stable and headed into the house. It was a sorry state of affairs when you misguidedly counted an unfortunate accident as an amorous encounter. He found his brother Jack and Letty in the vaulted Tudor great hall they called the drawing room. His sister-in-law was sewing something which he assumed would clothe the baby one day and, like the besotted dolt he had become, his elder brother was watching her contentedly.

      ‘Don’t you have anything better to do than stare at your wife?’

      ‘Not at the moment, no. I find I never tire of it. Don’t you have anything better to do than gripe about it?’

      Jamie shrugged, reluctant to admit that, no, he never had anything to do any more. His life was aimless because he was now pointless. His easel and paints lay within arm’s reach, calling to him, but he resisted picking them up. It would only give Letty another excuse to ask him how his orchard picture was coming along. Instead, he picked up a newspaper and made a great show of reading it.

      ‘Ahem.’ The butler appeared on stealthy feet. ‘You have visitors my lord. The Reverend Reeves and his daughter would like an audience.’

      It was all Jamie could do not to sit bolt upright and neaten his unruly, windswept hair. She was here. Again. Very probably only to see Letty—but that was all right. At least she was here.

      And he was pathetic.

      ‘Miss Reeves passed me this note while her father was not looking, my lady, I got the impression she wanted you to read it before I showed them in.’

      Chivers handed Letty a letter, which was unsealed and appeared to have been hastily folded. She opened it, scanned it quickly, then scowled. ‘Well, I am not altogether sure what to make of this.’

      Deliberately, Jamie slowly folded the newspaper in case he seemed too eager to hear what Miss Reeves had to say and schooled his features to appear bored, rather than slightly panicked and yet nauseatingly eager to gaze upon her again.

      Letty read the missive out in hushed tones.

      Dearest Letty and Captain Warriner,

      Please accept my sincerest apologies for the clandestine manner of this note, however, my father would be very angry if he learned that I had visited you unchaperoned or that I had been climbing the trees in your grounds.

      I would be eternally in your debt if you pretended this was our first meeting. I know I am asking you to lie for me and appreciate that you are under no obligation to do so and that my request is odd, to say the very least.

      I should like to say sorry in advance for what is about to happen. None of this is of my doing.

      Cassie

      ‘I suppose we have to honour her request?’ Letty folded the note slowly and looked towards first Jack, then Jamie for guidance. They both shrugged in response. It was a peculiar letter to be sure. ‘Show them in, Chivers.’

      Like the others, Jamie stood. Miss Reeves had already seen him limp so there was no point trying to hide it, and if she had brought her father in tow then the man would expect to see proper manners. Meeting her father suddenly made him feel nervous, as if he were a potential suitor keen to make a good first impression. Where had that ridiculous thought come from? He was not suitor material. He was not anything material any more. Not until he was fixed. If he ever got fixed.

      Stop getting ideas above yourself and just be pleased she has graced you with her company again. You have to take whatever crumbs are thrown at you, old boy.

      For some reason, he expected to see a jolly, rotund man with his daughter’s friendly open expression. The sour-faced, reedy fellow who walked in, ramrod-straight and unsmiling, was nothing like her. Worse still, the effervescent Miss Reeves was apparently unavailable for this visit. The pained, slouched woman who dutifully walked behind her father was a shell of the vixen he had been thinking about incessantly. Behind her father’s back, she screwed up her face and stared at him mournfully, almost apologetically, then did the same to Letty.