Second Chances; A Regency Story (For Anna)

[Dare Blackwood-Hardt]

"I have, at times," Alasdair said. "I was most attracted to landscapes under differing lighting some years ago." He had wanted so badly to paint the forests and grounds of Hardt Manor when he had first arrived. "I moved on to portraits, but have painted little these past few years." Had it been so long? He swore that he could still feel Michael some nights. But he was slipping into morbid thoughts and the wine packed for their luncheon would do nothing to soothe them.

"A well-done painting can show more than the subject's face frozen in time," he went on, pulling himself into the present. "It is that something extra which I seek to capture, that which cannot be described." He adored paradoxes, grand ladies with wicked gleams to their eyes and whores with an air of innocence about them. People who were far more than they seemed.

[Annabelle Hennessy]

Anna's eyes darted to the black band around his arm when he'd mentioned not painting lately. Could he still possibly be wearing it for the Duke? She banished the absurd thought of her overactive imagination. It was probably more likely that some relative had recently passed away; a cousin or uncle or some such person. Any comment she might have made was cut short by the curricle slowing down and turning down a country drive lined with tall shade trees. She looked up to him and once the horses were fully turned she couldn't resist teasing him a bit. "Another business meeting to attend to, or have we reached the site of our picnic?"

[Dare Blackwood-Hardt]

"I believe I've dragged you through far more business than is proper," Alasdair said, returning the tease. "It will be a brief stretch of the legs to fulfill my promise." He smiled as they made their way, then looked at the bucolic scene around them. "My brother's country estate," he explained. "He will not be in residence just now, but the doors are always open should I wish to explore the grounds."

[Annabelle Hennessy]

Annabelle was surprised to realize that she would set off on an adventure with a man that she hardly knew anything of his past. Beyond his stay at the ducal residence and what she'd learned just hours earlier from Lady Osbaldestone, she knew nothing of his background. She wondered all sorts of things, about his family, if he was close to them, what his childhood was llike. "Do you have many siblings? I always wished I had a brother. My sister is so much younger than I that I was an only child for a long while growing up."

[Dare Blackwood-Hardt]

"My mother died young," Alasdair explained, "and my father never remarried. There are only the two of us." And he rarely spoke with his brother. Even more rarely still with his father. In fact, he had not seen the man at all in several years now. He knew his father's reasons, but would not speak of them. There were far more pleasant things to speak of than how thoroughly he had ostracized himself with his decision to openly reside at Hardt Manor for so long.

"There is a small lake past the house itself. Quite picturesque, a serene place seemingly out of a painting itself. We will luncheon there." Not a smooth transition, but one which Alasdair needed as he drew his horses to a stop.

A boy had come running to take the reins, and to this boy Alasdair passed a coin as he stepped down, asking briefly after his mother. The boy replied excitedly that she was well and clutched the coin in his hand, hardly able to comport himself with the treat. Alasdair turned, and on impulse decided to help Miss Hennessy down the way he had helped her up.

[Annabelle Hennessy]

Annabelle cursed her nerves, wishing she would stop reacting so much to every little touch. Her hands had immediately grasped his arms as he swung her down. She should have moved them once her toes touching the hard surface of the ground. She also should have taken a step back, removing herself from his hold and gaining an acceptable distance. Instead she stood transfixed by his presence and touch yet again. This time, she was far shorter and her gaze had to travel up the button at his chest, past the pristine cravat. She was intending to look into his eyes for some sort of hint as to what his feelings were but she never made it that far. Her eyes stopped at the soft pink curves of his lip, and she subconsciously licked her own.

[Dare Blackwood-Hardt]

Alasdair was stunned into silence, unable to remove his hands from the warm cloth beneath them. He felt a draw that he hadn't felt in years, and he knew that she felt it as well. He could see the path of her gaze, saw the dampening of her lips and was overwhelmed by the impulse he felt to pull her close and ravish her. The impulse was dangerous, unforgivable, and he shifted forward, dipping his head slightly.

No.

But what would it feel like to hold someone so slight, so delicate? He could hardly recall the sensation and his fingers twitched with the desire to move and do the most improper things.

[Annabelle Hennessy]

A visible shiver coursed through Annabelle's body at the slight movement of his hands. Her simple dress suddenly felt far too thin, she knew she must be imagining feeling the heat of those large hands that were still clutching her waist. She continued her visual journey up the few inches to the pale eyes. She felt as if he could see into the depths of her soul, as if he knew she'd been imagining his lips brushing against her own. She felt that the desire was mutual and could only wonder why he wasn't closing the distance more. They were so close, yet with his height he still seemed miles away, a distance she'd never be able to span on her own.

You're being foolish. All those novels are going to your head. You're just lucky he isn't laughing at you. She knew she should pull away, look away, something. But her mind was losing the battle and she just couldn't pull away. Unsure if she was begging to be released or to be thoroughly kissed, she softly let his name roll off her lips, "Mr. Blackwood."

[Dare Blackwood-Hardt]

The world swam slowly into focus at the sound of his name. There was the temptation so warm and soft in front of him, there was the cool breeze which did nothing to dissipate the heat building within him, and there was the boy waiting for him to step aside so that he could lead the horses away. He pulled a shuddering breath and his hands tensed, then slid far too slowly from Miss Hennessy's waist.

Breathe.

It was a demand he could scarce obey. Then he stepped back, and hardly aware of the motions, directed a waiting footman to have the picnic set. He hardly heard his own words for the thoughts still pulling at him. Miss Hennessy and I will be taking a stroll around the lake.

[Annabelle Hennessy]

The space created between them was enough to allow her thoughts to begin flowing again. Her hand on his sleeve was hardly a distraction after the moment they'd just shared, or almost shared. Her feet moved on their own as she silently followed his lead. Her head filled with fragments, unable to focus enough to think fully through an idea before another one popped into its place. She was so confused, not knowing if she wanted something to happen or if she was just getting carried away at the thought. It had been so long since she'd played the games of having someone lavish her with attention. Did she truly like him or was he just a distraction from her unwanted time among the haute ton?

Even more confusing was him, Mr. Blackwood. She'd felt something just now, something between then that couldn't possibly have been one-sided. Was he interested in her? Was it possible? She recalled that he'd been the one to call on her, take her for a ride in the park, then planned a surprise stop to give her a coveted invite to view the Elgin Marbles, and had had a picnic basket already in his curricle waiting on the chance that she'd accept his offer. Surely he didn't do these things for all his acquaintances, did he?

[Dare Blackwood-Hardt]

Alasdair was lost to his thoughts as well, and the walk was quiet, but somehow comfortable despite the tension that lingered between them. He could not forget that endless moment at the front drive, Miss Hennessy so ripe and ready before him, his own lost instincts rising to the surface. Was it disloyal to have such thoughts when he could not control them? He dearly loved Michael, but would Michael not wish for him to have happiness?

The path around the man-made lake only encouraged quiet introspection. The trees lent dappled shadows to the soft grass and the sound of the water lapping at the shore was rhythmic and soothing. Alasdair let the atmosphere calm him, and by the by he looked aside at his companion. He wanted to give her some words of wisdom to clear the air, but found himself still incapable of speaking.

[Annabelle Hennessy]

When Anna's heart had eventually resumed a normal pace her thoughts became less urgent and she was able to take in her surroundings. She cast a few hidden glances up at Mr. Blackwood, wondering how often he came here. She looked over the smooth surface of the lake, wondering if he'd perhaps painted this scenery before. When she looked up at hi next, he happened to be looking in her direction. Ignoring the tint on her cheeks at being caught, she smiled at him and grabbed at the first topic that came to mind. "Your brother's grounds are remarkable. Have you spent much time here?"

[Dare Blackwood-Hardt]

Relief swept through Alasdair at the return to conversation, most especially to something he could speak of with some ease. "Years ago, yes," he admitted. "I visit now and then. There is a sense of peace here, no matter the circumstances." He had painted the lake in the glittering summer afternoon, in the red autumn twilight and even under the cold winter moon, and no matter the palette he used, that peace shone through. "Do you find it much the same?" he asked.

[Annabelle Hennessy]

"Yes, it's so very calm, and happy, if a place could be described as such." Annabelle found herself replying with thought. For some reason it seemed much more meaningful then a normal talk of the weather. She could picture young children happily chasing each other along the banks, or little boys trying their luck at fishing. She hoped his brother had a family that enjoyed this place, it would seem like such a loss if no one regularly visited such a view. Perhaps this was their family home growing up and it had been passed on to his brother. "Is your brother older then you?"

[Dare Blackwood-Hardt]

"No, but he's infinitely wiser, despite the year between us." Dare's lips curved slightly with the words. His brother was everything calm and serene, a human version of the land around them. Everything he'd never aspired to be and always most respected. "He has been married some short time and already has a brood of his own, a lively bunch that he despairs of almost as much as he adores." His niece and nephews were a treasure, and one he didn't see nearly enough. It was altogether better if his scandals never reached them.