Going Rogue (Ribbons and Rogues Book 1) Page 3

  Meredith shook her head. “I can’t right now—I’m entertaining.”

  Derek stepped back, her words a punch to his gut. “Entertaining?”

  She jutted her chin, just as she had as a child. “I can’t very well make my friends wait. You have no idea how important these ladies are.”

  He tried to excuse her lack of manners, but for the life of him, couldn’t. “I’ve come all this way. Surely, your important guests will excuse your absence long enough so that I may have a few moments alone with you?”

  She cast her gaze down at the floor. “You should have sent word, you should have written . . .”

  “Well, I do apologize for the inconvenience. I suppose in all my haste I didn’t anticipate just how inflexible your schedule would be.”

  Meredith looked back up, anger flashing behind her bright green eyes. “Well, you should have. Life here isn’t like it is in Middlebury. I have numerous appointments and obligations. I simply don’t have the time for unexpected callers.”

  He fisted his hands at his sides. “I’m not just another caller, Mere. I’m your friend. Your very oldest and very best friend. Remember?”

  “You can’t call me that anymore—it isn’t proper.”

  His jaw fell, along with his heart. “Isn’t proper? We used to swim in my parents’ pond without so much as a stitch covering either one of us. Surely, we’ve gotten past this whole business of propriety?”

  “Mr. Weston!” She shushed him. “You mustn’t say such things—not here, not ever again. Those times are behind me now.”

  He couldn’t stand it anymore. This was utter madness! He grabbed her hands, briefly noticing the yellow ribbon she wore around her left wrist. “Don’t you dare call me Mr. Weston—I’m Derek. And those times are not behind you. In fact, your past, your future, is right here in front of you. I’m right here in front of you.”

  She tore her hands free, as if it pained her to touch him.

  He fished in his pocket and pulled out the ring, a family heirloom. He doubted the large, green center stone was real, but it didn’t matter. It served as a symbol, nothing more. One day, he’d buy her a real jewel, an emerald the same color as her eyes—something she could be proud of. “I know I should have written, but what I have to ask couldn’t wait for the post.”

  “What’s that?” She clutched her chest, her gaze narrowing in on the token he held out for her.

  He shrugged. “It’s far less than you deserve, but it’s all I can give you right now. But that’s going to change soon, I promise. I’m buying a commission.”

  “A commission?” she repeated, her voice barely registering above a whisper.

  “I’ve always loved you, Mere, but I’ve never had the means to provide for you. Now, with this commission, I can give you the kind of life you deserve. I wanted to ask you first, then approach your mother. We can return to Middlebury together—”

  “Middlebury?” She rubbed her forehead. “But you were the one who encouraged me to leave. You told me that I deserved more than being a village wife. And now that I’ve created a brand new life for myself here, you’d have me return?”

  “But you never wanted to leave,” he explained, the distance between them growing—both physically and in every other sense possible. “Don’t you remember that day on the stairs? You begged me to help you find a way to stay.”

  “You’re right,” she said defiantly. “I would have done anything to stay in Middlebury . . . with you. But you convinced me there was no better way to help my mother than by leaving with my aunt. You encouraged me to come here.”

  “Of course I encouraged you to go. You deserved a chance at a proper education, to learn to play music from a real master. And I thought you might even meet someone who could provide for you and your mother. But now there’s no need. With this commission, I’ll earn a decent wage and I can finally support you in the manner you deserve. I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

  “You couldn’t love me.” Meredith’s shoulders fell. “You haven’t seen me for over a year—too much has changed. It’s too late.”

  “A year means nothing when I’ve known you for a lifetime,” he argued.

  “A year is a lifetime.” She shook her head. “I’m not the person I used to be.”

  “Of course you are. After you come home—”

  “Middlebury is no longer my home and I can’t go back. There’s nothing for me there.”

  “Except me?” He’d meant it as a bold declaration of his intentions. But his confidence was wavering and he knew the words were as much a question as they were anything else.

  “Don’t you see—I can’t marry you.” Her words cut like a knife. “I’ve a real chance here. Aunt Cynthia thinks I can be a duchess. An actual duchess! Can you imagine? Think of all I can do for my mother.”

  “I had no idea you held such lofty aspirations,” he said quietly, the ring tucked tightly within his fist.

  She looked down. “You said it yourself once—I deserve more than what life in the village has to offer me. How can I settle for being the wife of an officer when I have a real chance at a title?”

  He dropped the ring on the floor, the weight of it finally too much to bear. “Somewhere along the way, you seem to have forgotten what’s truly important, Mere.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “Love, friendship, loyalty . . .”

  She shook her head. “My mother followed love and look where that got her. She has nothing now but a crumbling house and stacks of bills. It takes far more than love to make a life—it takes a fortune.”

  And then he knew. This shell of a woman was certainly not his Meredith. His Meredith would never be so callous, so ruthless. The woman standing in front of him had her eyes, hair, and smile—but not her spirit.

  The girl he loved was nowhere to be found.

  Derek cleared his throat. “You’ve changed.”

  She looked at him. “We’re just too different now. I had hoped that it would be easy, that you’d just forget about me over time. Why do you think I stopped writing all those months ago?”

  It was the final blow to their friendship. She hadn’t been as preoccupied with her lessons as he’d thought. He knew the truth now—perhaps he’d known it all along. She hadn’t been too busy to write, she’d been too busy for him. She’d been trying to end their friendship amicably by simply ignoring the fact it had ever existed.

  “I shouldn’t have come here,” he said quietly.

  “Probably not.” She wrapped her arms around her middle, just as she had when she was younger. His heart ached for the memory.

  He needed to leave, to be as far from this place as he could get. But there was one thing he couldn’t leave without.

  Taking her by the arms, he pulled her close, and kissed her fiercely.

  She didn’t resist.

  She returned his kiss with just as much emotion, her arms snaking their way up his chest. Their last kiss hadn’t lasted but a second, both of them so inexperienced. But he’d spent nights dreaming about it, imagining all he’d do differently given the opportunity again.

  Now, she kissed him with a skill that he didn’t bother to question. He knew someone else had taught her, but he didn’t care. He wanted her to remember him, remember this moment. He kissed her with every intention of scarring a memory into her consciousness so that after this, every kiss she’d ever receive would pale in comparison to his. He poured every ounce of himself into it—every feeling he’d ever hidden, all the love he’d ever felt for her. His tongue plunged deeper, exploring the secret places inside her mouth.

  This kiss was the requiem for what was to become his past.

  When he felt her knees start to buckle, he knew it was time. He pulled away. His gaze locked briefly wit
h hers. Her eyes were heavy with desire and her lips were red and swollen from the pleasurable assault.

  He said nothing. Instead, he walked straight for the door—ready to leave the place where his vision for the future had been shattered into thousands of irreparable shards.

  And he’d be damned before he tried to pick them up.

  Chapter 4

  Derek wandered aimlessly through London, reflecting on all that had transpired. After several hours, he found himself standing on the docks. He’d never ventured so far from home before. Used to nothing but farmland as far as the eye could see, the sight of such a vast body of water stirred something inside him. He stared at the horizon, focusing on where the sun dipped into the sea, wondering what to do next. It was getting late and he needed to go somewhere, but for the life of him he couldn’t figure out where.

  He was lost.

  She was all he’d ever known, this girl who’d so easily dismissed him. He couldn’t very well return to Middlebury, knowing there’d be reminders of her everywhere. And he sure as hell wasn’t staying in London, wallowing in the loss of Meredith Castle.

  It was then he made his decision.

  Derek took the stack of well-read letters—so painstakingly cared for over the years—and tossed them into the water. He watched as the wind carried them off, scattering them across the sea. He didn’t move until the very last piece of foolscap drifted out of sight.

  Satisfied the remnants of his past were thoroughly destroyed, he walked back down the pier, noticing a faded sign swinging above him on an outstretched arm from one of the buildings that lined the walkway. He stopped to read it.

  The King’s Ransom Transports was looking for men.

  He rubbed his chin, wild thoughts racing through his mind—a new sense of excitement coursing through his blood. A shipping company? He could think of no better way to escape than a life of travel, drifting from port to port. He’d never been on a ship before and he could barely swim. But suddenly, reason and logic were beyond him as he entered the business office.

  An older man greeted him, his face worn, wearing better quality clothing than anything Derek had ever owned. “Can I help you?” he asked, stepping out from behind a desk.

  “I’m here to inquire about a position,” he announced. “Are you still hiring?”

  The man didn’t attempt to mask the fact that he was sizing him up before he answered. “We are indeed,” he said, obviously satisfied with what he saw. “Most of our business has been out of America lately. There’s been quite the demand for our services with the war and all.”

  “America,” Derek repeated. He couldn’t imagine a more ideal location in which to start his new life.

  “Yes, America,” the man said again. “We have one more position to fill. But I’ll warn you now—we’re not your typical shipping company.”

  Derek took a deep breath. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered anymore.

  “When do we sail?”

  Meredith ran to her room, tears threatening to spill over at any moment. She slammed the door closed, then crumpled to the floor, clutching the ring within her fist. She opened her hand and admired the piece of green cut glass at its center, then slipped it on her finger. Light reflected off the gold, two crests engraved on either side, a brief glimpse into the future she might have had with the man who loved her.

  The man she loved.

  No reason to hold back any longer, the tears flowed freely now. She was safe inside her room, hidden away from the judgment of her aunt, of the Ribbons.

  Derek’s familiar blue eyes evoked a flood of memories that had all but washed away her last semblance of reason. It had taken every ounce of strength she possessed not to cling to him, to beg him never to leave.

  Turning him away had been the hardest thing she’d ever done—but something she knew was necessary. That day on the stairs, he’d not only stolen a kiss, but her entire heart. She would have stayed with him forever if he’d asked. But he hadn’t. Instead, he’d insisted she go to London, just like her mother had. She hadn’t wanted to leave either one of them, but deep inside she knew it was the only way. Her own father had died during her infancy and her mother’s second husband just up and disappeared one day, leaving behind nothing but a stack of debts and a heap of bad memories. There would be no one else to come to their rescue.

  She’d done what was best for her family, even if that meant giving up her past for the hope of creating a future for her and her mother. She’d severed her friendship from Derek just like Aunt Cynthia had encouraged her to do; cleanly and completely in order to spare herself any more pain.

  A knock at the door startled her. She quickly stood, wiped at her face, then hid her hands behind her back. “Come in,” she announced.

  Cynthia strode into the room. “Darling, I saw him leave. Are you all right?” Her aunt opened her arms wide in invitation.

  Meredith took a step back, avoiding the embrace. “Couldn’t be better.”

  Cynthia set her hands atop her shoulders. “You did the right thing—I’m proud of you.”

  For having done the right thing, Meredith was quite certain she’d never felt worse.

  “Have you been crying?” It was more of an accusation than a question. “You’re not crying about that boy are you?”

  She shook her head. “It’s just a bit of homesickness, that’s all. Sometimes I miss my life there,” she mused. With Derek. “Maybe if I could go home, just for a few days . . . to see my mother?”

  Cynthia cupped her cheek. “I don’t think that’s the best idea. You’re just now hitting your stride with the Ribbons and you’re close to becoming one of the most desired women in all of London. Think of all the suitors—gentlemen who could easily take care of you, your mother, and me. With my guidance and your beauty, you’ll do better than any woman in this family ever has.”

  “Even better than Aunt Lydia?”

  Cynthia dropped her hand. “You’re far better than Lydia ever was. She squandered every opportunity and betrayed her family, something I know you’ll never do.”

  Meredith didn’t need her to elaborate. She already knew the story well, having heard it countless times before.

  “I should be getting back downstairs,” Meredith said, forcing a smile for her aunt’s benefit.

  “Of course.” Cynthia placed a light kiss on both her cheeks. “Do try and cheer up. Perhaps later I can take you shopping? That always makes me feel better.”

  “I’d like that,” she lied, wanting nothing more than to curl up in a ball and cry some more.

  “Wonderful! I’ll start getting ready.” Cynthia left her room, a blur of teased hair and taffeta, the overpowering scent of rosewater wafting behind her.

  Meredith waited until she could no longer hear her aunt’s footsteps to remove the ring, tucking it safely inside her pocket, keeping it there until she could hide it properly, under the loose floorboard at the end of her bed.

  The same place she kept all of Derek’s letters.

  Chapter 5

  London, 1817, Five years later . . .

  Sunlight managed to find its way into Meredith’s room through the small opening between the heavy curtains. Determined to block out the light completely, she pulled the covers over her head.

  “Good day, Miss Castle,” the chipper voice of her lady’s maid rang out.

  “Come back later, Lizzie,” Meredith muttered.

  “I can’t do that—your room is filthy. Besides, Lady Browning would like you to join her on the veranda as soon as you can make yourself ready.”

  She listened as Lizzie flitted about. “The room can wait,” she said, peeking out from the blankets. “And you can tell Lady Browning that I’m sleeping. I’ll join her at my earliest convenience.” She hid again, nestled deep within the confines of her com
fortable bed.

  “But the Lady insists . . .”

  There was no use arguing with the girl—her loyalty first and foremost with her employer. “Fine. But I’ll need a warm bath and a pot of chocolate before I can even consider leaving my room.”

  “But Lady Browning—”

  Meredith hit the mattress with her fist. “Lady Browning will just have to wait until I’ve had my pot of chocolate, now won’t she?”