A Kiss from the Heart (8 page)

“
No
!” she cried with a low moan.

“Mama, what is it?”

“It is Alec. He has fallen off a horse and broken his leg! Darling, we must both go at once to Ledbury Hall!”

Inwardly the Earl groaned.

‘Blast Alec!' he cursed as he tried to comfort his mother.

He rang for Hiscock and told him they would be returning to Worcestershire and everything should be made ready for the journey.

His mother looked up at him gratefully and patted his hand affectionately.

An hour later the carriage stood waiting outside the front of Brook Street.

“Are you certain you have packed the ledgers?” the Countess asked Hiscock breathlessly as he helped her into the carriage.

“Yes, my Lady. They are all quite safe in the black box as you requested.”

“And you will close down the house until you hear from us?”

“Yes, my Lady.”

At last the Earl appeared by the carriage door and thanked Hiscock for his prompt attention to duty.

“I shall not be staying long,” he said in a low voice, so that his mother would not hear. “I intend to return as soon as Alec is on the mend.”

“Very good, my Lord. The house is in safe hands.”

For the first twenty or so miles the Countess sat in a miserable silence staring out of the window.

“It's only a broken leg, Mama. It is not serious. He will not die!”

“That is not what I was thinking!” she replied a little sharply.

She was becoming tired of her eldest son's selfish ways.

“It is the estate I am concerned about. Alec was no nearer to finding the thieves who are draining us and now he will be unable to attend to his duties. Robert, you know what this means?”

“Mama, he will be back on that horse in no time!”

“Robert, you will have to run the estate until he is well. And do not think for a moment that I will allow him on horseback until his leg is quite healed.”

She gave him a steely look and he shrank into his seat. Her cool blue eyes so like his own bore into him leaving him in no doubt as to what she expected.

“Now, there is another matter I wish to discuss with you,” she continued in a softer tone. “I was just about to mention it this morning when we had our dreadful shock. An old friend of mine, Lady Florence Waterton, is coming to visit us at Ledbury. You may recall me speaking of her in my letters to you when you were in India. Her husband was killed during the battle of Majuba Hill?”

The Earl paused. His mother had written of many things when he was in India, most of which he had not paid the slightest attention to. The name was vaguely familiar to him, but he could not recall the details.

“Hmm,” he answered noncommitally.

“You will so enjoy meeting her. She is young and lively and is quite the most fascinating conversationalist. I met her in Biarritz.”

The Earl sighed.

Was this yet another attempt by his mother to introduce him to a ‘suitable woman?' Was it not enough that he would have to cope with taking on Alec's duties without being bothered by another troublesome petticoat tyrant?

His mother continued to speak to him intermittently and she appeared satisfied with his mere grunts as replies.

As the moon came up they arrived at Ledbury Hall.

In its silvery light the house looked even more imposing and eerie than in the daytime.

As the carriage rattled up the drive, the Earl's heart was in his boots.

*

The next morning dawned unnaturally early for the Earl. Monkhouse wakened him with a large cup of tea and a ready-drawn bath.

The Earl could not manage a word while he was shaved and dressed. His thoughts were occupied by what the day ahead would bring.

No sooner had he set one foot back in the Hall than papers were thrust at him and he was asked for a thousand decisions before the dust of the journey had settled.

‘I expect Mama will have my day clearly mapped out for me,' he mused, as he walked slowly down the huge oak staircase to the dining room.

His mother was already at the table. She looked up at him.

“Have you looked in on Alec yet? He is keen to speak with you.”

“No, Mama, I came directly down to breakfast,” he replied a little irritably.

“Then, you must be sure to visit him the moment you have finished eating,” she suggested in a voice that begged no argument.

The Earl glumly sipped his tea and munched his bacon and eggs. Although he wished to see Alec, he knew what their conversation would be about.

*

Much later and after he had eaten a delicious lunch that had cheered him up no end, he decided to go for a ride.

The memory of his talk with Alec still lingered in his mind and he wished to be out into the fresh air to think.

“You must promise me that you will not allow this situation to escalate,” Alec had told him from his sickbed. “You must check the perimeters on a daily basis to catch the scoundrels red-handed! I am quite certain that they are rendezvousing in the old barn near the Whitby's house!”

‘Ah, the Whitby's!' he thought. ‘And is that not the same barn where I once met with an unfortunate accident?'

A vision of seven-year-old Miranda Whitby flashed into his mind.

‘Where is she now?' he wondered. ‘And is she still as pretty as she was then?'

He recalled her long blonde hair with its flowing waves and her serious grey eyes fringed with dark-brown lashes.

Her tilted nose was just like a china doll and her mouth, a perfect rosebud, added to the overall effect.

He smiled to himself as he strode over the cobbled courtyard to the stables. One of the stable boys was now coming towards him leading a large black stallion that appeared to be in a somewhat skittish mood.

“He's not 'imself today, my Lord. Don't take any trouble off 'im!” said the boy, as he held Monty's bridle while the Earl mounted.

“Don't worry, I shall make certain he knows I am the Master!” called the Earl, kicking the horse's side with his tall leather boots.

Within moments Monty was cantering along the lane, shaking his head and snorting a great deal. The Earl reined him in tight and spurred him on as they reached the open fields.

The Grange was only a short ride away so the Earl soon found himself dismounting by the main entrance.

He smiled to himself fondly as he noticed that the old cattle trough was still there.

“Fancy some water, old boy?” he murmured, as he tethered Monty to a post.

He stood looking up at the house before he moved towards it. Its windows and brickwork were so familiar and comforting.

Yet the house seemed somehow smaller since the last time he had seen it – and that was, when? Five years ago? Six?

He moved with a sigh towards the front door and then before his hand could ring the bell a soft melodious voice came from behind him.

“Can I help you?”

He spun round to gaze into a pair of pale-grey eyes the colour of a pigeon's wing. The rosebud mouth was relaxed and he noticed that the young woman wore her hair in the latest style. Unusual, he thought, for this part of the country.

Her skin was fresh yet not sullied by the sun's rays and she was quite the most utterly beautiful young thing he had seen for a long time. There was something about her poise that was elegant yet countrified at the same time.

Slowly a look of recognition crossed her face.

“Robert? Is it you? Can it really be – ?”

“Miranda!”

Within seconds he had scooped her up in a friendly embrace whirling her around on the spot.

“I hardly recognise you. You are all grown up!” he cried.

“And you, so tall and handsome!” she responded. “The Army has been good for you, I can see.”

She let her hand rest for just a moment on the firm bicep that swelled underneath his close-fitting riding habit and then took it away.

“Papa will be so thrilled that you have come to see us!” she said, knocking sharply on the door. “And Mama is back from Bath only yesterday! She will be delighted you have paid us a visit.”

The Whitby butler opened the door and was taken aback by the gale of laughter that greeted him.

“Mervin, look who has come to pay a call!” cried Miranda.

Inside the long hall, Lady Whitby came hurrying towards them.

“Is it? Can it be? Well, bless my soul! Young Lord Robert! Come inside.”

“Oh, Mama, he is no longer young Lord Robert! He is Lord Templeton now!” chided Miranda.

Lady Whitby went off to find her husband and left Miranda and the Earl together in the drawing room. He looked around the room and was delighted that everything was how it had been on his last visit.

“I am so sorry that I did not attend your father's funeral,” said Miranda, settling him down in a comfortable chair. “Papa did not tell me as he did not wish to spoil my stay in London. I was very cross with him as I would have so liked to have paid my respects to him by attending.”

“It does not matter, but I am glad that you are here and not in London. I have come home for a while as my brother has had an accident and cannot oversee the estate.”

“Yes, we had heard there had been a riding mishap. But Robert, I thought it was you who was the eldest – or am I mistaken?”

She looked at him cautiously, alerted by some sixth sense that she was walking into dangerous waters.

“Yes, I am the eldest,” he snapped. “But Alec has always shown more of an aptitude and inclination for these matters than I and besides there were my father's affairs to attend to in London.”

“Of course,” murmured Miranda as she folded her hands in her lap and cast her eyes downwards. She did not understand at all why it could not have been Alec who performed the lesser of the tasks.

“Robert!”

The unmistakeable boom of Sir George assailed them as he walked in to the room.

“You are back! Welcome, welcome!”

He shook the Earl's hand warmly and clapped him on the back.

“And now you have come to set matters to rights, I assume?”

He sat down heavily in his favourite armchair and looked at the Earl expectantly.

“I don't mind telling you, I have had my suspicions for quite a while as to who might be at the bottom of this skulduggery. Just say the word to me and I shall help you in whatever manner I can.”

The Earl looked down at his riding boots and did not know how to respond.

“Alec is doing a fine job – ” he began, pressing his fingers against each other to form a pyramid.

“Ah, but you are the head of the clan, eh?” said Sir George. “And you are sorely needed at the Hall!”

The Earl grunted and looked down.

In front of Miranda, he started to feel embarrassed and inadequate. What must she think of him?

“You are fortunate that Miranda has just arrived home from London,” added Sir George ignoring the strained atmosphere. “You two cannot have seen each other for years!”

“A very long while,” confirmed Miranda.

Just then she got to her feet and went to leave the room.

“I must help Mama in the kitchen,” she explained. “Cook is off today and our maid is unwell. I will leave you two to your men's talk!”

As soon as the door closed behind her, Sir George leaned forward and spoke to the Earl,

“You must certainly not disappoint your mother. Your father would not have allowed things to escalate in such a manner had he not been so unwell, and Alec is far too trusting. No, it is good you are here. And, as I said, if I can be of any help to you, you must ask.”

The Earl nodded, feeling suitably chastened. Sir George was the only person, apart from his mother, whom he would allow to speak to him in such a manner and the older man's good opinion meant a great deal to him.

By the time Miranda and her mother arrived back in the room bearing tea and cakes, the conversation had turned to lighter topics and there was laughter once more.

But the sobered Earl could not forget the words Sir George had said to him.

Much later, as he went to leave, he shook his hand gravely.

“Remember what I said,” whispered Sir George as he left.

“Come and see us again!” called Miranda brightly. “I have a great deal of time on my hands now I am back from London!”

She did not know what had passed between them, but she sensed that it was something serious.

As the Earl rode back towards the Hall, he pushed aside Sir George's stern lecture and then allowed himself to dwell on more pleasant matters.

‘I could never have dreamt that dear little Miranda would grow so beautiful!' he said to himself, as his heart raced as he thought about her.

‘She is quite without fault! There is something so completely different about her compared to the women of London – yes, I
must
see her again!'

The Earl soon found that he had little choice in the matter of the running of Ledbury Hall.

On returning from his visit to the Whitby's, he was immediately surrounded by people asking him things.

When he went upstairs to look in on Alec, he asked him if it was always so.

“Oh, yes,” replied his brother, propped up in bed. “It is never ending. The estates are so large and there is always some tenant farmer with a problem. Those farms do
not
run themselves!”

The Earl sighed.

“I am sorry I was so unfortunate as to break my leg and you have had to step into the breach,” continued Alec. “I was more than happy to organise the place, you know.”

“Papa thought he was invincible,” murmured the Earl. “He left us all ill-prepared for his demise.”

“That is true,” agreed Alec. “And you more so than I. At least I used to help on the farms during my school holidays. Do you remember how scandalised Mama was when I came home after my first day's toil?”