Miss Radley's Third Dare

  What a woman wants…

  The only person who ever understood what Julia Radley wanted most in life was the man who ruined her reputation and secured her victory in a bold swimming race. She does not hold Valentine Merton accountable for the harsh criticisms made against her character until he suggests the only way to smooth over the scandal of his defeat is to wed as soon as possible.

  … the gentleman must dare.

  After picking himself up after proposing, Valentine Merton is even more determined to tame the wild girl next door. The future he wants within the clockmaker’s guild depends on their speedy marriage. A few sweet words or, as a last resort, another brazen dare is sure to persuade her to take a chance on him… and his family.

  MISS RADLEY’S THIRD DARE

  Miss Mayhem, Book 3

  by

  Heather Boyd

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  MISS RADLEY’S THIRD DARE

  Copyright © 2015 by Heather Boyd

  LLD Press

  ISBN: 978-1-925239-07-2

  Edited by Kelli Collins

  Cover Design by Heather Boyd

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any electronic or mechanical means—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without written permission.

  For more information visit:

  www.heather-boyd.com

  One

  There is nothing like having a past to shake up a happy present.

  Julia Radley flopped onto her bed and groaned into her pillow. The concept of being so grievously ruined because of her harmless little dare three months ago had not truly occurred to her at the time Valentine Merton had accepted the challenge. She had thought any scandal would have blown over soon after the event that proved her an equal to a man when it came to swimming fast. To her dismay, all these months later, she had become a target of her brother’s unending fury and society’s scorn.

  She had to escape.

  “Don’t you dare walk away from me, young lady,” Linus, her brother and constant pain in her side, bellowed as he followed into her bedchamber to continue delivering his latest assessments of her predicament from the doorway. “You have no idea what strain this places upon me. What this has done to me. And—”

  “What have I done to you?” She sat up, blowing a lock of red hair from her eyes. “All I have done is determined that I can swim faster than one man. Just one member of the male gender to prove my point that women possess more skills than merely wielding a needle. I did not parade myself around in my undergarments for the benefit of the masses. The entire event took no more than half an hour and you act like it is such a long-lasting disaster. You were there. You saw everything and said nothing at the time.”

  “How could I have stopped you when I was the last to know my sister had been conspiring with a neighbor behind my back?” Linus turned an unhealthy shade of puce when he referred to her opponent, Valentine Merton. Once he’d called the man his best friend, but no more. Not since the race had they been seen together. “Everyone tried to prevent the race. If you were a lady in any shape or form, no one in Brighton would have any idea of what you look like underneath that gown. As it is—”

  A loud knock pounded on the door one floor below them and Linus glanced over his shoulder swiftly.

  At last, a caller had come to distract Linus from his daily lecture before he really got going. She held her breath as her brother turned on his heel and marched downstairs without another word.

  Julia flopped onto her back as Mr. Walter George’s measured tones reached her with an invitation to go out. She grinned and sent Mr. George her undying gratitude. Her brother’s other friends were very good at distracting Linus when he was in high alt. So good, she might even be able to sneak out of the house to visit with Mr. George’s sister Imogen for a good long while without her brother knowing.

  The front door slammed shut and Julia jumped to her feet, snatched up her best shawl and checked her reflection in the mirror. Good enough to be seen by any standard. She crept downstairs. There wasn’t a sound in the front rooms and a quick check revealed Linus had indeed gone out with Mr. George. She grinned. Freedom, however temporary, was sweet.

  She hurried to the rear of the house, aiming for the kitchen, where Cook was preparing tonight’s meal. Mrs. Baker limped through the room awkwardly, her foot bound firmly following an accident with a kitchen knife.

  “Your foot will never get better at this rate,” Julia cried out.

  “It is better already thanks to you.” Mrs. Baker smiled. “I’ve just got to get my work done, dearie.”

  No matter how much Julia protested that the foot must be rested, Mrs. Baker refused to neglect her duties in the kitchen.

  “Sneaking out again?” Mrs. Baker asked, eyeing the shawl she clutched.

  “I cannot bear this prison a moment longer.” Julia smiled brightly. “I’m only going as far as the Watsons’ house. I want to see Imogen and ask how her eyesight fares today.”

  “No doubt the same as it was yesterday, and all of the days of the months before that.” Cook shook her finger and then winced. “’Tis a miracle, that’s what it is, and you shouldn’t go looking to see every day if it has been reversed.”

  “I agree.” Julia nodded as she grasped the door handle. “But I will use any excuse to call on a friend again.”

  Cook was sympathetic to her situation and had even once allowed her to hide in the larder when Linus had been at her all day. Linus did not want anyone to see her misbehaving again for fear of setting everyone else against her. Given his unreasonable restrictions, she had no choice but to make good use of the rear door or windows of her home to sneak into her friend’s house from the opposite direction he’d gone.

  Mrs. Baker wiped her hands on a cloth. “He wants the best for you.”

  “Shouting at me isn’t going to change anything,” Julia grumbled.

  “No, it won’t, but…” She shrugged and returned to her baking without another word. Mrs. Baker held back saying what everyone else had suggested out loud at least once. A good marriage would restore my reputation.

  Well, she couldn’t marry until the right man asked for her hand.

  So far, Mr. Anthony Linden had not even tried to kiss her and, according to Lady Imogen Watson, reticence of that kind wasn’t good during a courtship. Not that he was courting her. Julia simply hoped he would realize she was in love with him. So far, the man appeared unaware and she had no idea how to hurry the understanding upon him.

  She slipped out the back door, holding her shawl tighter around her shoulders. Never before had she worried so much about what other people might say when they saw her, but since her spectacular win against Valentine Merton, she took nothing for granted. She was respectably dressed in a blue-and-white striped muslin gown and for a change her hair was not out of place. She was determined to make a good impression because she never knew when she might see Mr. Linden next.

  As always, her gaze strayed toward Valentine Merton’s home as she passed his rear boundary. The bachelor had accepted his loss with good grace and even better humor, dumping her back into the churning sea as if she was just another fellow. It had been nice, even if she’d sucked down a lungful of seawater due to her surprise at his treatment. He’d pounded her back and apologized profusely, ensuring she was unharmed and suffered no lasting ill-effects.

  But that moment of camaraderie had been replaced by fear for Imogen’s health soon after, and once assured their neighbor had recovered her sight, that ease between her and Mr.
Merton had never returned.

  She paused and listened for sounds within the remnants of an old stable that Mr. Merton had converted for his nightly observation of the star-filled sky. At least that was what she’d been led to believe he did in there. He could be very noisy at times, tapping away on things she didn’t understand. Perhaps he was building a new telescope.

  She dawdled at bit. While she did not blame him for avoiding them, she did not like that he would.

  As if called by her presence, Mr. Merton stepped out of the little shed he used for his astronomy observations, wiping his hands on a scrap of linen. His pale hair was untidy today, and a streak of something dark marred his right cheek. He’d left off his coat, revealing his lanky form.

  She smiled, determined to make him realize she did not expect more from him than a simple greeting. “Sir,” she said with a respectful dip, mimicking behavior other ladies used around men whose opinions matter. “How goes your study today?”

  “Good morning, Miss Radley.” He nodded and then hesitated; so clearly, she knew he would make an excuse to go next. “I should be getting back to it.”

  When he turned away and reentered the old building, Julia, at her wits’ end, fumed. What must she do to restore the balance? Forswearing adventure wasn’t in her nature but the urge to commit violence on him was growing daily, given his ridiculous behavior.

  She completed her journey to Lady Watson’s door and chatted with the kind housekeeper as she was led into the sitting room. Imogen, married two months, was shuffling papers on her lap but set them aside to greet her. “I heard him today.”

  Across from her, Miss Teresa Long hurried to pack away her embroidery.

  “The whole of Brighton has heard my brother’s rants. If they hadn’t thought me a bad example before, they certainly must do now.” She plopped down beside Imogen and eyed the papers. “Hello, you two. What are you doing?”

  “I have written an account of my lost sight and eventual return for Doctor Hill’s records. I thought perhaps my recollections might be of use to others facing an unfamiliar future. It was very hard not to lose hope when the world was black.”

  Impulsively, Julia embraced her friend. “You were very brave. We all thought so.”

  “There were some who didn’t.” Imogen scowled, most likely thinking of one woman in particular who hadn’t been at all comforting during Imogen’s frightening ordeal. In fact, Melanie Merton had been sent away from Brighton, although most thought her leaving the result of preference rather than banishment.

  She glanced across to Miss Long. “Has anyone heard from Melanie?”

  Teresa, Melanie Merton’s cousin, shook her head so swiftly her blonde ringlets bobbed beside her ears. “I must return home. I promised Val my help. I look forward to seeing you again soon, Lady Watson. Miss Radley.”

  The woman hurried out, leaving silence in her wake.

  “Not one word from Miss Merton for months, and I’m glad.” Imogen shook her head. “We were never really her kind of people.”

  Melanie Merton’s “people” consisted of older women, ladies who’d never climb a fence let alone race a man, ladies who would have thrown a fit of vapors at merely a quarter of Julia’s physical achievements. The type to stand around and tell other women what to do. Julia hadn’t really missed those uncomfortable moments. “It is still strange to be in Brighton without hearing of her, seeing her, or suffering her disappointed stares from morning till night at this time of year.”

  “We will learn to bear the absence.” Imogen sighed and squeezed her hand. “What will you do about your brother?”

  “Endure.”

  Imogen burst out laughing. “Are you not being a trifle melodramatic, my dear?”

  “It’s all I can do.” She sighed and twisted a red curl around her finger and tugged savagely. “Mr. Merton spoke to me on my way here but I could tell he’d rather have ignored me again. That’s almost as bad as being shouted at.”

  Lectured, expected to give up her hoydenish ways and concentrate on finding a husband. Yes, ignored and avoided was ten times worse than anything her brother had thrown her way.

  “It’s not as if I was the one to insist he marry me. For heaven’s sake, he should know that was all Linus’s doing. A clever man like Mr. Valentine Merton would not want me for a wife. The idea must have been mortifying. It is no wonder he avoids me now.”

  “I had thought better of him too but perhaps he’s more like Melanie than we realized.”

  “I never thought so. He was ten times more fun once.” She sighed. “Well, there is no denying I was faster in the water than him. I need a new challenge to set for myself now.”

  “Another? Oh heaven help us.”

  Julia patted Imogen’s hand soothingly. “Fully dressed, I promise. Next time I will not have to pester the fellow to race me. I have learned my lesson. I will not bother Mr. Merton again. They must want the challenge too.”

  Imogen smiled. “Perhaps, now the dare is over, Mr. Merton simply doesn’t know what to say. Men often don’t understand that silence causes more harm than good.”

  “Linus has never had a problem in expressing his opinions.” She stood, suddenly keen to put the past behind her. “However, I think it’s high time Mr. Merton and I sorted this out or I shall not bother to look at him again.”

  “I do not like to see you so upset, and over something that cannot be changed.” Imogen gestured toward the window. “Is the sky free of clouds?”

  “Yes. Oh!” she exclaimed. Understanding at last how she might just corner Valentine Merton for a private tête-à-tête without her brother, or anyone else, knowing brought a grin to her face. “If the sky is clear of clouds tonight, Mr. Merton will almost certainly be stargazing. He is always alone for that. Oh, Imogen, you are a genius.”

  “I’ve heard that before from Abigail.” Imogen bit her lip. “Now, make sure no one sees you sneak out to him. I don’t think there is any reasonable excuse that can save your reputation from a second scandal, should you be caught alone with him tonight.”

  “I won’t be caught.” She grinned, imagining Mr. Merton’s ease once their misunderstanding was behind them. “I promise to be on my very best behavior.”

  Two

  There was nothing more comforting than dining in a home where every breath is accompanied by the ticking of two dozen clocks. When they chimed all at once, the noise deafened. Valentine Merton was accustomed to the racket, being in the habit of keeping the clocks he made in his workshop properly wound at all times. “What do you think of my chances, sir?”

  Mr. Faraday, an elderly man with a shock of white hair and failing eyesight, waited until the house was silent again before replying. “Your application has caused quite a stir among the company.”

  He schooled his features not to show his eagerness at the news. Interest was what he hoped for most, rather than outright dismissal. He was an unusual candidate, without the years of training most possessed, but Faraday had claimed he had a gift and he was determined to grasp this chance to make a change in his life for the better. “How so?”

  Mr. Faraday slipped his glasses on and then picked up a pocket watch left on the table, Valentine’s latest creation. He turned the piece over in his hands, inspecting every aspect. He brought the watch very close to his face so his failing eyesight could make out the finer detail. “You have accomplished much on your own, sir. An item such as this will no doubt delight the eventual owner.” He set the pocket watch aside and turned his attention to the small ormolu mantel clock next. “Very elegant, sure to be desirable to any home of good taste and distinction. Yes, your customers will love them both and tell all their friends.”

  The praise reassured him. “I’m very proud of both pieces.”

  “As you should be.” Mr. Faraday removed his glasses and carefully folded them. “My eyes these days are not so good for the finer details required for my career anymore. It is a great disappointment to me not to be able to pursue my profession a
s earnestly as I once did. As it is, I shall have to close my shop soon.”

  “The end of a great era,” Valentine murmured. The loss of sight could end a career and make one very anxious. Valentine required neither eyeglasses nor magnification for the finer detailed work. He was luckier than most, he’d been told. “I can understand a little of how you must feel.”

  Faraday set his eyeglasses aside. “How is Lady Watson getting on these days?”

  His neighbor had lost her sight, and had it return unexpectedly all at once. “Her eyesight is much improved, sir, and she has been able to resume her correspondence again without any undue strain.”

  “What do you believe cured her?”

  That was the question everyone asked. “I am not sure we will ever know. She had fallen and struck her head that day. The blow appeared an inconsequential matter at first but within an hour she could see shapes and light once more. She experienced pain. I understand she almost did not realize she could see faces again.”

  “A miracle.”

  “A fortunate day.” Valentine was careful not to make reference to the other event of that same day. His race against Miss Julia Radley had immediately preceded Lady Watson’s return to health, and made many uncomfortable when it came up in conversation.

  Mrs. Faraday bustled into the room, followed by a manservant bearing a tray of refreshments, and he was grateful for the distraction. Valentine quickly returned the mantel clock to its box but left the pocket watch out on show.

  “I took the liberty of arranging tea. Mr. Faraday cannot tolerate spirits so close to midnight.” Mrs. Faraday beamed at her husband as she passed over a strong cup of tea and then spared Valentine a careful glance. “It has been good to see you again, Mr. Merton. It’s been too long since you came to dinner.”