A Lady for Lord Randall (Brides of Waterloo)

He turned away from her and began to pace the room, his brow furrowed.

‘It can only be for the short time that I remain in Brussels. This peace can only last a few weeks more. If the worst happens and Bonaparte comes to us, you will be leaving for Antwerp. If the duke decides to take the fight to France then I shall be gone.’ He stopped before her. ‘This is new to me, Mary. I have never felt like this in my life before, about anyone. I would be glad, when I am not engaged upon

my duties, to have your company. It need not be alone,’ he added, as if thinking it through. ‘You may provide yourself with a chaperone—or a maid, to be with you at all times. I would not wish to damage your reputation. I merely wish for your company.’

She stared at him.

‘Friends?’

‘Why not?’ His mouth twisted and the ghost of a smile glinted in his eyes. ‘It is quite a radical idea, I think.’

Now he was teasing her. But it could work. The heavy cloud on her spirits lifted, just a little.

‘You would ask nothing of me save my company?’

‘That is correct.’

It was Mary’s turn to walk about the room, her fingers pressed to her temples. A little laugh shook her.

‘You continue to surprise me, Lord Randall. At almost our first meeting you suggest I should be your mistress and now you declare that you wish us to be friends?’

‘Yes, since there cannot be anything else between us. War is coming, Mary. Everything will change. There is very little time and I want to spend some of it with you.’ He shrugged. ‘Perhaps friends is all we ever could be, given what lies between us. I am a hard man, Mary, you know I lack the social graces to make a woman happy.’

‘I do not believe that. Despite your rank you have good qualities,’ she admitted.

‘But you do not know me very well. My sisters will tell you it is true. I do not back down, I do not apologise. My intransigence would hurt you, in the end, if we were lovers. As friends you may fare better at my hands. Unlike your poor sister you would be able to walk away and your reputation would not be damaged.’ He added quietly, ‘I am not ready to say goodbye to you, Mary Endacott.’

This is madness.

She stopped her pacing. ‘Nor I you, Lord Randall.’

‘Then let us try it. After all, what have we to lose?’

Only my sanity.

‘Why, nothing, my lord.’ She held out her hand. ‘Cry friends with me, then.’

He clasped her fingers. The bolt of heat shot up her arm, desire curled deep inside her, but she ignored it. Friends or nothing.

Half a loaf.

* * *

Randall stared into the green eyes that looked up at him so uncertainly. What had it cost her to tell him about her sister? She had wanted him to understand. His proud, indomitable Mary. He wanted her so badly he was prepared to go to any lengths to see her, even if it meant acting like a eunuch. They said familiarity bred contempt. He only hoped that by spending more time with Mary this obsession might burn itself out. For now it was making itself felt most uncomfortably in his groin. He released her hand and turned away before she could see that he thought of her as anything but a friend.

‘Very well,’ he said briskly. ‘Will you ride out with me tomorrow, Miss Endacott?’

‘I—yes, thank you.’

‘Do you have a horse here?

She nodded. ‘My gelding, Marron, is in the stables nearby. He is an indulgence, I cannot ride as often as I would like, and they keep him exercised for me.’

‘I will call for you in the morning. I have business to attend to, but it should not take more than a few minutes. I merely need to confirm orders with some fellow officers who are billeted in a small château outside the city. Once that is done we could ride in the woods, they are particularly fine in that area. Do you have a groom to accompany you?’

‘No, but—’

‘Then I shall arrange for my man to come with us, for propriety’s sake.’