Bought for Revenge (5 page)

She stopped. ‘We were caught in a heavy shower of rain that day, on the way home. Edwin became ill. Inflammation of the lungs. He never recovered.’

‘I see. How old was he?’

‘Just eleven years old.’

He watched as she looked into the past, such desolation about her that he wanted to reach out and pull her into his arms, but that was impossible. He of all people could not give her sympathy.

‘I am very sorry,’ he said at last.

‘It was such a time ago, but I still feel his loss, greatly.’

‘I know. The pain never goes away.’

‘I am sorry,’ she said. ‘About your parents.’ She stood for a moment, looking out over the water. Then with a sigh she tucked her arm in his. ‘We have become very maudlin, Mr Monserrat.
Let us move on now. There is still a great deal to see, including the hermitage.’

He recognised her attempt to distract him and responded in kind. ‘A hermitage? That is something I did not know about. That will put me in the very kick of fashion!’

She chuckled. ‘Unfortunately, it is not a grotto but a natural formation of the rocks, but Edwin and I thought it would be the perfect habitat for a hermit.’

‘Then take me to it, Miss Havenham!’

He helped her back across the bridge and this time she did not pull her hand away, but allowed him to draw it onto his arm as they strolled back to where Clegg was waiting with the horses.

‘Let me help you to mount.’

Belle met his eyes for a fleeting moment, remembering the first time he had thrown her into the saddle. Did he recall it, too? How differently she had felt then. It would not be wise to mention it in front of Clegg, however. He was already looking disapproving about her being alone and out of sight with Lucas for so long, and if he knew of that first encounter he would most likely deliver a long homily upon the consequences of a young lady’s venturing forth without her groom. So she allowed Lucas to assist her and tried to look unconcerned while a storm of conflicting
thoughts and feelings raged inside her. His touch, his nearness, both frightened and excited her. Instinct told her to beware this man, yet some power beyond her control drew her to him. He seemed to understand her love for this place and she wanted to share with him her memories, the happy days she had enjoyed running free in the woods and glades. She tried to explain it as they rode away from the lake.

‘Even after Edwin was gone I still liked to come here. Often I would ride my pony through the woods, exploring.’ She chuckled. ‘It was a chance to escape from my governess for a while. I liked being alone here, especially if I was unhappy, or there was some little problem I wanted to think about.’

‘I hope you still feel you can do that, Miss Havenham.’

She shook her head. ‘No. It is your land now, sir.’ She urged Apollo on. ‘We need to press on, if we are to see much more today.’

The Home Wood was extensive and they had not covered the half of it when Clegg drew her attention to the sun, which was sinking low towards the horizon. Belle looked about her, surprised. Had they really been riding for so long?

‘We should be turning back,’ she said. ‘Papa will worry if I am late.’

‘I hope you have enjoyed your time with me, Miss Havenham.’

‘I have, very much.’ Heavens, he would think her far too friendly! ‘But I would have enjoyed pointing out the hidden valleys and bubbling springs to anyone who showed such interest.’ Now she was too casual and felt compelled to compliment him. ‘You are a good student, Mr Monserrat, and you already know a great deal about Morwood.’

‘I have made it my business to study the ground plan and talk to the locals,’ he told her. ‘Those who are not afraid of the ghosts.’

She knew he was teasing her and chuckled. ‘If there are ghosts here they are friendly ones, for I have never felt in the least uneasy, even in the ruins of the house itself. But I have never seen anyone from Stanton here, which is why I am surprised they know so much about it.’

‘Ah, but I pick up a great deal of information from the taproom of the Red Lion, so perhaps the people I have spoken with make more, er, nocturnal visits.’

‘You mean poachers! That is much more likely. I hope you are not planning any dark nefarious deeds of your own, sir!’

Instead of the laugh she expected, his face darkened and there was a dangerous glitter in his eyes. It was gone in a moment and Annabelle
wondered if she had imagined it. Mayhap it had been a cloud passing across the sun, because now he was smiling at her again.

‘We have not seen the half of the Morwood estate yet, Miss Havenham. I would like to ride out with you again, if you will?’

‘Why, yes, if you wish—and if the weather holds.’

She gave him a shy smile. Again Lucas felt that uncomfortable prickle of conscience. He shrugged it aside. He meant the chit no real harm, after all.

The afternoon was well advanced by the time they returned to the manor house.

‘I would ask you to stop and take some refreshment with me,’ said Lucas, ‘but I fear there is only water or the builders’ ale to be had.’

‘Then I shall decline gracefully and go on my way.’ A workman was approaching, mopping his brow with a red handkerchief. She recognised him as one of her tenant farmers and nodded. ‘Good day to you, Elias. You have plenty of work here, I think.’

‘Afternoon, Miss Havenham, Mr Monserrat.’ The man tugged his forelock. ‘Aye, there’s work aplenty here for us, which is good, seeing as how the harvest failed last year. We’ve had
to buy in seed for this year and this’ll go some way to pay for it.’

‘I have taken on Greenwood as my foreman,’ explained Lucas. ‘And he is a very good one, too.’

‘Aye, well, it helps to be able to turn a hand to summat else when times is bad. Which reminds me, sir, if you’ve a minute, I need to ask you about the stone lintel for the new porch. It don’t look quite right to me.’

‘And I must be going home,’ said Annabelle quickly. ‘Pray do not think you have to escort me back to Oakenroyd, sir, you will be far more useful here, working on your house.’

Lucas hesitated. ‘If you are sure.’

‘Very. I have Clegg with me, after all.’

‘Then I shall take you at your word and stay.’ He leaned across and held out his hand to her. ‘I only wish I could offer you hospitality.’

‘All in good time, sir. Perhaps when the manor is finished—’ Annabelle broke off, feeling the blush steal into her cheeks again. Was she being far too forward? After all, it was not long since she had vowed never to speak to this man. Now, with her fingers snugly clasped in his, she was inviting herself into his house.

‘When it is finished I shall be delighted to welcome you here.’

His voice was quiet, but there was something
in his tone that made her blush even more. She tried to look up, but could only raise her eyes as far as his mouth. The lips were curved upwards into a smile and the lines at each side had deepened. How could she ever have thought him unattractive? Shaken, she disengaged her hand and busied herself with the reins.

‘I must go.’

‘Of course. And thank you for your company today.’

‘Not at all. I hope it was of use.’

‘It was,’ he responded. ‘I am very grateful.’

She could think of nothing else to say, but still she could not bring herself to go. They stayed thus, not speaking, with Elias Greenwood watching them, his eyes shifting from one to the other. Apollo grew restless. He threw up his head impatiently and Annabelle shook herself out of the unaccustomed inertia. With a final murmured goodbye she turned the grey and trotted away.

L
ucas watched her ride off, admiring the way she handled Apollo, the straight line of her back, the proud set of her head. Had he really thought her such a nonentity when they first met? He glanced down at his fingers. They still tingled from the shock he had felt when she clasped his hand, the excitement that had pulsed through him, the sheer exhilaration of touching her. He had not expected that.

He heard someone clearing his throat and realised that Greenwood was still there, watching him.

‘Ah, yes. The porch lintel. We’ll go and look now.’ He jumped down and tethered Sultan to a post. He took a final look at the lane, but Annabelle was no longer in sight.

‘No need to worry,’ said Greenwood, grinning.
‘Miss Belle’s a cracking rider. She’ll get home safe enough.’

‘Miss Belle?’

‘Aye, that’s how we’ve always known her. Grand lass she is, too. Not a bit high in the instep, for all she’s mistress of Oakenroyd.’

For some reason the information did not please Lucas.

‘Is she not a little spoiled?’ he asked casually. ‘After all, she is Havenham’s only child. He says himself he dotes on her.’

‘Oh, he does, but she has the sweetest nature. Why, when my wife were lying in last year and having such a bad time of it, Miss Belle goes herself to fetch the midwife, then stays looking after the little ones so’s I wouldn’t miss market day, such as it was. She’s a good ’un, sir, and no mistake. Thinks well of everyone, or tries to.’ Elias paused, then added slyly, ‘She’ll make someone a good wife, I do reckon.’

Lucas affected not to hear this last comment. He began to stride away towards the house. ‘Right,’ he said curtly. ‘Let us see what is wrong with that lintel!’

A period of dry sunny weather followed and Annabelle rode with Lucas almost every day. No arrangement was made, but as she rode across the park each morning Annabelle would look
out for him on the moors above her, the black figure of a horse and rider outlined against the eastern sky. He would gallop down to meet her and they would ride over the Oakenroyd land, then across to Morwood, where she accompanied him to the outlying farms, explaining the histories of his tenant farmers and their families, details that the taciturn northern people would never tell him themselves, such as how young John Sutcliffe had struggled to rebuild the farm after his father was killed in a riding accident two years ago, and how Matthew Crabtree bred the best milch cows in the county and Jonah Oldfield the miller might appear surly at first, but he had a heart of gold, while his wife Hannah had a gift for healing. Lucas remembered Elias Greenwood’s words:
Thinks well of everyone
,
or tries to
. What would she think of him, when she knew the truth? He pushed the thought away.

By the time April was sliding gently into May they had covered the whole estate and Belle declared that Lucas had no further need of her. They were within sight of Oakenroyd, the point where the path to her home parted from the road into Stanton.

‘Are you tired of my company, then, Miss Havenham?’

‘Not at all, but…’

She hesitated over her next words. She was aware that spending so much time in Lucas’s company was giving rise to comment. Even Mr Keighley had mentioned it when he called at Oakenroyd recently. Her father had been quite sanguine.

‘I fear it is my fault,’ he had said in his gentle way. ‘Belle is standing in for me by showing Mr Monserrat over his new lands and introducing him to his tenants. I do not ride so often now, you know, and never to Morwood.’

‘Then the rumours of an alliance are unfounded?’ asked Mr Keighley.

‘Oh, completely,’ Samuel had replied comfortably. ‘I’m afraid I quite bullied Annabelle into going out. She is merely being neighbourly.’

‘Then I shall make sure I dismiss any speculation I hear.’

‘Aye, do, sir,’ cried Annabelle, her cheeks burning, and not only with indignation. ‘It is a poor thing if one cannot ride out with a neighbour!’

The exchange had left her feeling slightly uncomfortable. During their rides together Lucas never did or said anything untoward, but she was very much aware of his physical presence, of the warm note in his voice when he addressed her, and there was a curious lightness in her chest whenever she met his smiling eyes. It was nothing
more than friendship, she told herself, but sometimes, in the dark reaches of the night, she hoped—dreamed—one day it might be more than that. Not that she could admit as much to Lucas, of course, so now she prevaricated a little.

‘I fear I am taking you away from the building work.’

‘You are not. I still make regular visits to the manor. To be truthful I think the builders are relieved that I am not on site all the time.’

‘I know most of them,’ said Annabelle. ‘They are good men and do not require constant supervision.’

‘I am aware, and it is not why I spend so much time there. I like to be involved, to get my hands dirty.’

Her eyes dropped to those hands, gloved in the finest leather and resting lightly on Sultan’s glossy mane. Strong, capable hands. The memory of those same hands spanning her waist, lifting her down from Apollo, suddenly made her grow hot and she looked away.

‘So will you be riding again tomorrow?’ she spoke quickly, to defuse the sudden awkward tension she could feel around them.

‘Not tomorrow. I would like to do something different.’ He smiled at her enquiring look. ‘I sent Rudd to fetch my curricle and he returned
yesterday. I would like to take you out in it, if I may.’

She could feel the smile bursting out from inside her. There was no question of refusing such a tempting invitation.

‘Oh, yes, if you please! I should like that very much. I have never been in a curricle and always wanted to do so. Sir John has a phaeton and it is very elegant, but a curricle—is it a racing one, sleek and low?’

He laughed at her enthusiasm. ‘Yes, it is and tomorrow you shall have your wish and drive out in a curricle, Miss Havenham!’

Belle was waiting at the door when Lucas swept around Oakenroyd’s curling drive the following morning. She did not come immediately to the carriage, but instead her attention was all on the matched bays pulling it.

‘What magnificent creatures,’ she declared as Rudd jumped down from the rumble seat and ran to their heads. ‘May I?’

She would not approach until she had obtained the groom’s consent, but once he had nodded she moved closer, murmuring endearments and rubbing each velvet nose in turn as she ran a practised eye over the bays.

‘They are beautiful,’ she said. ‘Small heads, deep chests—I imagine they are very fast?’

Lucas was thankful she addressed her question to Rudd, for he was incapable of speech. He was looking at her, a slight smile playing about his mouth. She was wearing her olive-green riding habit with its military-style gold frogging, the one she often wore for riding out with him but now, as she moved gracefully around the horses, discussing their finer points with Rudd, her countenance beneath the stylish beaver hat was quite animated and she took his breath away.

‘They are indeed fast,’ he said when at last he handed her into the curricle. ‘They are good for sixteen miles an hour on a fast road.’

‘You will find very few highways of that standard here,’ she told him. ‘Except the new toll road at Dyke’s Ridge.’

‘Then we shall go there first and I will put them through their paces for you.’ He saw Samuel standing in the doorway and turned to him. ‘That is, if you have no objection, sir?’

‘By all means,’ Samuel replied. ‘I saw you drive in and I do not doubt your ability. You have an excellent turnout there, my boy. If I were twenty years younger, I should like to try them myself.’

‘Then go in my stead,’ said Belle immediately. ‘I am sure Mr Monserrat would take me another day…’

‘No, no, my love, my racing days are over. We
will enjoy a gentle ride together later, perhaps, but now off you go and enjoy yourself. Take care of my daughter, sir!’

‘I will, sir, you may be sure of it.’

Driving off with Annabelle beside him, Lucas felt unusually exhilarated. It was easy to ignore the tiny pinprick of conscience he had felt when Samuel had adjured him to look after his daughter. He intended to do just that. He also wanted to impress her and he found himself reining in his own exuberance as well as keeping his horses in check. They skirted the town of Stanton, maintaining a steady pace through the rough lanes, but once they had climbed to the high road and left the old track to Oldroyd he dropped his hands. The bays leapt into their collars and sped away. The new road followed the curving ridge; to one side the moors stretched upwards, ending in a grey outcrop of rocks on the skyline, while on the other the land fell away, sharply at first, and the curricle swept around the first bend where the road came close to the edge of the ridge, with only a thin, grassy strip between the road and a steep valley. Once past the bend the land flattened out and a series of fields dipped gently to the old track which could be seen cutting through the valley, dropping down to the ford at Oldroyd Farm before snaking upwards
again to meet the new road a mile or so past the toll house.

Instinctively Annabelle put her hand up to her bonnet. Lucas glanced at her.

‘Frightened, Miss Havenham?’

‘Not a bit of it,’ she declared, laughing. ‘I love racing along like this!’

They drew up for the toll, paid their fee and were off again. The bays flew over the ground, making short work of the last stretch of new road and all too soon they were dropping down to Holmeclough, from where they made their way back through the winding lanes towards Stanton. They passed few carriages, but there were several figures in the fields who straightened up to watch them race by and Mr Keighley’s words came back to Annabelle.

‘I fear we shall be the subject of some gossip, Mr Monserrat.’

He flicked a glance at her. ‘Riding in an open carriage, with my groom perched up behind us? There is no impropriety in that.’

‘No, of course not, but—’

‘Are you not enjoying yourself, Miss Havenham?’

‘Oh, yes, very much!’

‘Would you like me to curtail our drive and take you home now?’

The very idea made her heart sink. ‘No!’ She
put up her chin. ‘As you say, we are doing nothing improper, and we have my father’s blessing for this trip.’ Having persuaded herself that no one could object, she settled herself more comfortably beside him. ‘Where do we go now?’

‘I am going to take you to Morwood, if you are agreeable. We have ridden around the land and you have seen the building work, but there is one improvement you have not yet seen. What do you say?’

Belle had readily agreed and soon they were driving along the tree-lined drive to the house. Not only was the road much improved, but the trees on either side had been thinned out and the undergrowth cut back, allowing sunlight to dapple their path. Instead of turning towards the house, Lucas kept his team on the path around the edge of the park, making for the Home Wood. As they approached Belle gave a little gasp.

‘You have opened up the drive to the lake!’

‘I have indeed. I set a team of men on to it after our first visit there.’

Where she had known only an overgrown track there was now a wide carriageway. Fresh gravel scrunched beneath the wheels as they followed the meandering route down through the trees to the lake. The new drive ended in a turning circle close to the water’s edge.

‘Eventually I want to extend the carriageway all around the lake, to rebuild the bridge and refurbish the boathouse, as it used to be, but for now this is as far as we can go.’ He drew the curricle to a halt, facing the calm waters of the lake.

‘An amazing transformation,’ she declared, looking about her. ‘Your men have worked so hard, but why, when there is so much yet to do at the house?’

‘I have more than enough men working there. These were hired specifically to clear this path.’

Lucas knew he should not have done it, for it was outside the budget he had allowed for the rebuilding work, but Annabelle’s reaction made it worthwhile.

‘Extravagant, Mr Monserrat.’

She was smiling and Lucas felt the breath catch in his throat. She exuded happiness, her beaming smile, the bright sparkle in her eyes and the delicate flush on her cheeks. He wanted to lean closer, to soak up her radiance.

He returned her smile, holding her eyes, enjoying her innocent friendliness until he became aware of a subtle change. She was still smiling at him, still trusting, but anticipation filled the air around them. She was expecting something—that he would kiss her, perhaps? He wanted to do so, he wanted it very badly, but even as his
head began to dip towards her, Samuel’s parting words echoed in his mind.

Take care of my daughter, sir!

A sudden, delicate cough from his groom settled the matter.

‘You won’t want to be keeping your horses standing too long, Major, there’s a sly breeze coming off the moors.’

Lucas drew back, but when he looked at Annabelle she was not blushing, there was no conscious, awkward look. Instead her eyes were brimming with laughter and the desire to take her in his arms was greater than ever.

Warning bells clamoured in his head. Lucas knew he must be careful. To become enamoured of Annabelle Havenham would not suit his purpose at all. He decided he would have to forgo the pleasure of seeing her, at least for a while.

Lucas was in Annabelle’s thoughts a great deal over the next few days. The morning following their curricle drive she looked for him on her morning ride, but there was no familiar figure on the skyline. She was not perturbed and guessed he was very busy at the manor. She longed to ride over to Morwood to see him, but could think of no valid reason to do so. When a week went by and there was still no sign of him, she wondered if he, too, had heard the rumours
and decided that they should not be seen so much together. Perhaps he was staying away to protect her reputation. That thought gave way to another, far less comfortable one. Perhaps he did not want to raise hopes he had no intention of fulfilling.