Page 1 of To Dance with a Devil

Chapter 1

I feel like I’m running pell-mell towards a cliff’s edge, and though I know there’s a sheer drop to face, I can’t seem to stop myself. I never considered myself a stupid girl, but surely this is madness. Yet the alternative is to give in and do as I’m told and marry a man I don’t want and live in a place I have no wish to be.

The cliff’s edge it is then.

―Excerpt of an entry from Miss Bonnie Campbell to her diary.

10th September 1814, Holbrooke House, Sussex.

Bonnie contemplated the inside of her eyelids, shining red as the sun warmed her face. Sleep tugged at her mind. She was drowsy from the lazy afternoon and the delicious picnic she’d eaten with her friends. It would be easy to drift off, to forget all the worries that had crowded her thoughts of late, like spectators to another’s misfortune, gathering to gawk and gossip and thank the heavens it wasn’t them run down by the mail coach, or fallen on their face in the dirt.

Bonnie was used to spectators, used to people casting her disapproving glances and tutting and whispering. It was jealousy, she told herself; they were jealous that she had the guts to do the things they wanted to do but hadn’t the nerve. What did she care if they thought her a hoyden?

She opened her eyes, dazzled by the midday sun, and blinked up at a sky of azure blue, as blue as Jerome Cadogan’s eyes. Lord, but she was a cliché: a foolish little nobody, in love with a devilishly handsome man far beyond her reach. He was a wicked charmer with a roguish laugh and twinkling blue eyes, and he was no more of a mind to put a ring on her finger than to become the next Archbishop of Canterbury. She might be a ward of the Earl of Morven, but her family was not illustrious. They were respectable enough, but Jerome Cadogan, brother of the Earl of St Clair, could do a great deal better.

Her only hope had been to get him to fall as madly in love with her as she had with him. Bonnie let out a soft huff of laughter as she considered just how well that plan had worked. Jerome loved her all right, just like he loved the rest of his motley band of friends. He thought her a jolly good sort and merry as a grig, and treated her just as he might one of his boisterous roaring boys, not as a gently bred young lady. Not that Bonnie was frail and gently bred. There was nothing the least bit fragile about her. Her figure was voluptuous, verging on plump, she thought herself nigh unshockable, and she had a knack for saying the first thing that came into her head… usually loudly enough to be heard several streets away.

No, she knew well enough by now the type of lady Jerome fancied, and it wasn’t her. Not even nearly. He had a reputation for falling in love at the drop of a hat, and always with women who were far from suitable, much to his older brother’s despair. Apart from their unsuitability, these women had other things in common. They were blonde and blue-eyed, daintily pretty and in obvious need of rescue. Bonnie might be the epitome of unsuitability, but there the comparison ended. She had dark hair, vaguely green eyes, a robust figure and was more than capable of knocking a man out cold with a well-aimed blow to the nose if the need arose. She sighed, aware of her own idiocy and, worse, aware that her friends all knew of her infatuation and pitied her for it.

They’d done their best to warn her off, to tell her that Jerome just didn’t see her that way—would never see her that way—and it wasn’t that she didn’t believe them. She did. She knew they were right. Even Jerome, bless his soul, had warned her that he wasn’t the marrying kind when he’d caught her eyeing him with something more than friendly affection and the penny had finally dropped. He’d been sweet about it, too, making sure she knew how much he valued her friendship and assuring her it was his loss, for he’d make the most appalling husband if ever he was forced to take a wife. He’d caught at an imaginary rope and pretended to hang himself with it at that point, and Bonnie had laughed at his antics even though her heart was breaking. Ah well, better to have loved and lost… pfft. What drivel! If she could fall out of love with Jerome Cadogan as easily as she’d tumbled into it, she’d do so in a heartbeat, but her heart beat for him alone, and she didn’t know how to make it stop.

Why couldn’t she have just pleased everyone and fallen for Gordon bloody Anderson? She shuddered at the thought. The glowering, bad-tempered fellow and his glowering, unwelcoming castle had nothing to recommend them. He wouldn’t know fun if it fell on its head with a label attached pronouncing FUN in capital letters. Well, she was damned if she’d marry a man who thought her frivolous because she wanted the society of others and longed to dance and enjoy life. She didn’t care what plans Anderson had for her dowry or what Morven had promised her father before he’d died. That had been his promise, not hers. She’d not let them lock her up in some ghastly castle in the Highlands, away from all her friends and with no other occupation than to give her husband as many brats as she could manage, before the activity killed her just as it had killed her mother. No, thank you.

The trouble was that she couldn’t avoid it indefinitely. She was living on borrowed time. Anderson would come for her soon and, as she lived on Morven’s money, there was no escaping her fate. She could and would put it off for as long as possible, however. Perhaps if she behaved badly enough, Anderson would refuse to marry her. He only wanted her for her dowry in any case, and if she was damaged goods….

Perhaps that would be enough to make him refuse her?

The idea persisted, though she knew it was dangerous. Yet it meant she could have what she wanted, for a brief time at least. She could give herself to the man she loved and be honest with Anderson about what she’d done. Either it would change her fate, or it wouldn’t. Perhaps Morven would disown her, but she didn’t think so. No doubt he’d pack her off to somewhere she’d cause him no further embarrassment, but that had to be better than mouldering in some godforsaken castle in the back end of nowhere.

Well, it would likely come to naught anyway, she thought, huffing out a gloomy sigh. Jerome simply didn’t see her in that light, so he’d probably not want to ruin her, even if she handed herself to him on a platter… though it had to be worth a try.

Bonnie stared at the lake in front of her as she considered the idea, her gaze falling upon St Clair and Harriet. They’d finally sorted themselves out and were very clearly in love. Lucky Harriet, she thought, unable to hold back another despondent sigh.

Matilda, who was sitting beside her, glanced over at the sound.

“Lucky things,” Bonnie said, smiling wistfully as Matilda nodded her agreement.

“Indeed.”

“We’re not all so lucky, are we?”

“No,” Matilda said, and there was a bleak note in that one word that Bonnie heard and recognised. “But you are young and pretty, Bonnie. There’s time yet.”

Bonnie shook her head. “No,” she said, wishing her voice hadn’t quavered. There was no point in bleating about it. “No, there’s not. I told you, I’m already living on borrowed time.”

Matilda reached out and took her hand and Bonnie squeezed it in return, grateful for her unerring support and understanding. Matilda understood, because her time was running out too.

“You’ll not be alone, Bonnie. Not forgotten or abandoned, whatever happens. We won’t allow that. Your friends will always be there for you. I’ll come to Scotland and stay with you, I promise. No matter how far into the wilderness they try to bury you.”

Bonnie made a choked sound as emotions crashed about inside her, and then laughed. Matilda followed, blinking back tears.

“Lud, how maudlin we’ve become,” Matilda said, shaking her head. “This won’t do at all.”

Bonnie nodded. She couldn’t agree more. You were a long time dead, and the living could join you in the blink of an eye, as she well knew.

“Aye, there’s time enough for tears and wailing,” Bonnie said, scrambling to her feet, determination swelling in her heart. “I won’t waste a moment of what’s left to me.”

Taking a deep breath, Bonnie snatched up her drinking cup and headed for the lake.