The Irresistible Lady Behind the Mask: A Historical Regency Romance Book Page 4

  Hudson snickered. “You’re just a sore loser, Tempest!”

  Dropping her hands, she glared at him. “Don’t you dare call me a sore loser!”

  Her friend shrugged. “But that’s what you are. You always like to win. You have to know that you can’t win all the time.”

  Angry that what Hudson said was the truth, Tempest stepped down from the tree log they were standing on to walk away. Hudson held her arm and stopped her.

  “Wait, Tempest. You must carry me back to the house.”

  Tempest pulled her hand from his. “No! I won’t!

  “You must!”

  “I won’t, and you can’t make me!” she challenged fiercely.

  “Oh, really?” Hudson sneered and tightened his hold on her arm.

  “If you try anything, I’ll never speak to you again. In fact, you’ll cease to be my friend,” she threatened with glee.

  She smiled wickedly when she saw his face blanch. She was his only friend, and he would greatly miss her if she didn’t visit him anymore in Strombridge or his father’s London home.

  “Please don’t say things like that,” Hudson pleaded with tears in his eyes.

  Smiling smugly, Tempest said, “Good. Let’s go back to the house.”

  She was about to walk away when she heard Hudson say, “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

  “What?” she queried as she whirled around.

  “You’re supposed to carry me,” he replied with smugness dripping from every word.

  Totally infuriated that her emotional blackmail hadn’t worked, she stepped closer to him, raised her hands, and pushed him. Hudson, with widened eyes, staggered back, trying to hold on to his position on the log. The fish dropped from his hand, and he fell backward into the water.

  “No!” Tempest screamed as her friend landed with a splash in the river. When he went under, her heart stopped for some seconds. She didn’t think the water was deep, so she was appalled when he didn’t rise to the surface.

  “Hudson!” she yelled, her heart beating a rapid thud against her chest.

  A few seconds later, another splash was heard as Tempest expertly dived into the water to save her friend. The iciness of the water came as a shock to her. Her lips quivered as she sank lower into the water but couldn’t she see her friend. She tried calling him but gulped in water.

  Oh, dear, she would never forgive herself if something happened to him. He was her only friend in the whole world. Tears stung her eyes as tremors ran through her body due to the coldness of the water.

  When she didn’t see her friend, she swam to the surface and gasped. Hudson was standing on the log in his very wet shirt and breeches. Although he was shivering, he was pointing at her and laughing, bending over periodically in his hilarity.

  Tempest’s face scrunched up in a frown. She thought of a way to deal with him for his deceit. She would have the last laugh; she always did.

  Pushing herself under the water, she rose to the surface again. Then she went under and went up again.

  “Help Hudson! Something’s dragging me!” she screamed with hysteria and went under again.

  She swam up again. Hudson had stopped laughing by now and was looking at her with suspicion in his eyes. Tempest decided to lay her act in deeply. After taking in a huge breath, she went under and held it.

  When she heard Hudson jump into the water, she quickly swam to the surface and pushed herself out of it. She was the one standing on the fallen log, dripping wet and laughing by the time Hudson hauled himself out of the water with his face like a storm cloud.

  “I’ll get you for this, Tempest,” he promised.

  “You’ll have to catch me first,” she challenged and started the race on the path that led up to the house.

  Hudson caught up with her just before she reached the kitchen door. He jerked her hand back from the door handle. As they were wont to do, they engaged in a struggle on the ground, soiling their clothes with grass and dirt.

  The cook found them rolling on the ground, vying for which one of them would stay on top.

  “Master Hudson! Miss Tempest! Stop that nonsense this minute!”

  They didn’t listen as each one of them struggled for supremacy. They, however, heeded her words when she went back into the kitchen to get her ladle. She threatened them with it, and they rose to their feet to eye her warily.

  “Now, go and clean up or both your fathers will hear about your latest misadventure!” She waved the giant ladle at them.

  As they passed her to go through the kitchen to their bedchambers instead of passing through the front door where they would be seen and chided by their parents, the cook said, “I won’t be surprised if you get married to each other in future, seeing as you’re both very close and a perfect fit for each other.”

  She and Hudson had looked at each other with disgust on their faces. Tempest had made vomiting motions with her hand, and Hudson had replicated the act. Laughing, they ran out of the kitchen.

  Tempest came back to the present with a smile on her face. Nostalgic feelings hit her as she remembered many more incidences with her then best friend.

  They would have remained very good friends till date but for their fathers’ intervention in their relationship. At seventeen, both fathers had taken a good look at their children’s blossoming relationship and decided they wanted to join their influential families together through matrimony.

  Tempest sighed. What a dreadful day it had been when her father had summoned her to his study to tell her the supposedly good news. She had been appalled to hear that arrangements were being made for her and Hudson to be married.

  “You can’t be serious, Papa,” she said, eyeing him squarely.

  Seated behind his carved oaken desk, the smile had instantly wiped off his face. “What do you mean by that? Of course, I’m not making a jest. It would be a perfect joining. Hudson is a fine lad, and your union will cement the relationship between his father and me forever.”

  “I beg you, Papa, you’ll have to find another way to draw our families closer because I do not intend to marry Hudson.”

  Or anyone for that matter.

  His brows had drawn together. “Is this a joke or what?”

  She had looked away at one of the paintings on the wall, trying to find the right words to politely tell her father that his proposal was absurd.

  “Papa, I will not wed Hudson come what may. We might be very close friends, but marriage has never been in the cards for both of us,” she had explained carefully, hoping her father would see reason in her words.

  The man’s scowl had darkened. “Then pray tell why Hudson happily agreed to the union.”

  That had brought her up short. “What?”

  Smiling smugly, the man had leaned back on his chair to regard her with triumphant eyes. “Hudson has no problem with the two of you getting married. As a matter of fact, he was joyous about it and encouraged the union.”

  Tempest had been struck dumb by her father’s words. Surely he was telling tales. Hudson couldn’t have in any way admitted that he wanted them to get married.

  She had shaken her head as if trying to wipe the thought from her head. This wasn’t happening.

  “Papa—”

  Her father had cut in impatiently. “The bans will be announced in two weeks.”

  Tempest’s jaw had dropped.

  Eyeing his daughter with discomfiture, he had sighed and moved forward on his chair to place his hands on the table.

  “Tempest, I know you’re both very young. If you want more time to get used to the idea of you two getting married, I can allow that. Perhaps on your eighteenth birthday. But I would suggest now would be a good a time as any, seeing that you’re already terrific friends. A lot of people aren’t privileged to have that in their marriage.”

  Tempest had been too incensed to answer at first. She had felt betrayed by Hudson that he would agree to such a preposterous idea without first consulting her. The damn weak lad who
had simply accepted their father’s plans should at least have insisted she be told before any agreement was made.

  “That spotty coward should at least have bloody proposed face to face so I could kick him in the—”

  “Watch your tongue, young woman!” her father had bellowed.

  Tempest had risen to her feet, her face flushed with anger. “I will not! I wouldn’t marry that louse if he were the last man on Earth.”

  Her father had also risen, his face red with fury. “You will marry him if it’s the last thing you do in this world.”

  Angry tears had glistened in her eyes. “You can’t make me marry him. I won’t!”

  Breathing heavily as if he just ran a very long race, her father had pointed at the door. “Get out! Go to your room and begin to prepare your mind to become Hudson’s wife. I had wanted to give allowance for you being so young that the ceremony might perhaps be shifted for at most a year, but since you’ve chosen to be so disagreeable about it, you will be married in a fortnight!”

  Her fingers had curled into fists as she marched out of his study. She had almost pulled off the brass door handle, and when she slammed the door, it reverberated through the whole house.

  Only in the comfort of her aunt’s arms had she let go of her tears. She had wept pitifully, pouring her heart out to the woman.

  “But Hudson is quite a good catch,” her aunt had surprised her by saying.

  Lifting her tear-stained face to gape at the woman, she said, “He betrayed me by agreeing to the proposal. He knows I don’t want to get married. Perhaps he thought I was only jesting when I told him a while ago.”

  “Is that the reason you don’t want to marry him?” Aunt Beth had asked, giving her a knowing look.

  “No, Aunt Beth.” She sniffed. “I don’t want to marry him or anyone. Marriage is a sham. I’ve come to realise that.”

  Her aunt had frowned. “I’m glad you know that, but you must also acknowledge that not all marriages are. Take for instance, your parents. My late sister made a wise choice when she chose to marry your father. They had a good union before her demise. So, you mustn’t think all marriages are ill-fated.”

  “I know that. I don’t see myself as the marrying kind. I know society would want me to, but you’ve taught me not to pander to the dictates of the ton.”

  “Oh, dear, I was afraid you would say that.” Aunt Beth had rubbed a hand over her face. “When I taught you to become an independent woman, it wasn’t so you would become a spinster like me. I wanted you to know your worth when tying the knot with a man. I mean, knowing what you were carrying to your husband’s house instead of being an overly subservient empty-headed ninny like most girls out there.”

  Despite her tears and distress, Tempest had giggled at her aunt’s apt description of most girls in her age group. Fortunately, she wasn’t like any of them, thanks to her aunt.

  That evening, Hudson had called on her with a bouquet of roses in his hands to formally offer for her. Looking down her nose at him after raising her chin, she had infused a coldness in her voice that would have given him frostbite before bluntly saying, “No!”

  Hudson had been taken aback by not only her words but her demeanour. “Temp,” he had fondly called. She had swallowed the urge to reply in like manner in calling him, ‘Hud.’

  “Is something wrong?” he had questioned, running a hand through his blond hair.

  “No,” she had responded noncommittally.

  Looking every inch like a fool with the unaccepted flowers in his hand and a rejected proposal as well, he had rubbed the back of his neck, a characteristic trait of his.

  “I sense something is wrong, but I don’t exactly know what it is. Please tell me.”

  Looking down at her fingers and then shrugging, she had remarked coldly, “Nothing is wrong, Hudson. I don’t want to marry you. Why is that fact so hard for you to grasp? Must something be wrong because I have rejected your proposal?”

  “It’s not about the proposal; it’s the way you are talking to me. I feel as if I’m missing something here. What happened?”

  “Nothing as far as I can see. You can take your conniving with our fathers somewhere else and with someone else,” she had been unable to resist throwing at him with a savage bite.

  Dawning had entered his eyes then, and he had grinned. She had had to look away because whenever he smiled, she found herself doing that, too.

  “You’re mad at me because I didn’t inform you of their intentions?”

  Tempest had remained silent, seemingly showing interest in her nails.

  “Temp, you must believe me when I say they sprung it on me this morning when your father came calling. I was summoned into my father’s study, and before I could utter a word, the arrangements had been made, and I merely agreed. But I did insist you be told because I didn’t want your wrath which alas, I seem to be facing.”

  “So you don’t want to marry me, after all. You were merely coerced into it.” Relief had flooded through her which was abruptly cut short when he replied, “I didn’t say that.”

  Her head sprang up to glare at him. “What do you mean?”

  “I do want to marry you, Temp. That’s if you’ll have me.”

  Her anger at the role he played in the proposal had dissipated and agony had replaced it because she knew she wouldn’t marry him.

  “Hud … Hudson, you know I can’t marry you.”

  “Can’t or won’t?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “It does to me. Why won’t you marry me, Temp? We are a perfect fit. We will work well together, you’ll see. Our marriage will be a success.”

  Her heart had broken at his words. Swallowing back tears threatening to fall, she had risen and walked over to where he stood by the fireplace. She had taken her hand in his and shook her head.

  “Hudson, I don’t doubt for a minute that our marriage would work, but I still can’t marry you.” She blinked rapidly. “It’s not about you. I’m not the marrying kind. I won’t marry you or anyone else.”

  “Why?” he simply asked after minutes of silence between them elapsed.

  Tempest had shaken her head again. He wouldn’t understand, and telling him would only prolong the argument. She wasn’t in the mood for arguing with him.

  “You won’t understand.”

  “Tempest, I—”

  “Please leave, Hudson. You and I will never be married. Please accept my decision. We can always remain friends, but husband and wife is what we’ll never be.”

  She would never forget the defeated look on Hudson’s face as he threw the bouquet of roses into the fireplace and without offering her the courtesy of a bow, had stalked out of the drawing room. That evening, she had refused dinner and wept herself to sleep.

  And that was the last time she saw Hudson. He never called on her again and retired to his familial estate in Strombridge, only visiting London every now and then.

  Her father had been furious with her, to say the least, but she had maintained her stand. He had threatened her with several things, but they all failed to make an impression on her. The following year, he had forced her to attend her only season to get her to change her mind about marriage, but it had been an abysmal failure.