Bought for Revenge (6 page)

If that were so, then Annabelle told herself sternly that she really must not care. She had gone on very comfortably before Lucas Monserrat arrived in Stanton and she would continue to do so. But it did not prevent an unfamiliar restlessness gnawing away at her and she decided to work it off by walking into Stanton to pay a visit to old Mrs Hall. However, when she reached the main street and saw Lucas coming towards her she gave him a smile of genuine pleasure. He stopped and touched his hat, his own smile putting a brooding look to flight.

‘Miss Havenham, good day to you, ma’am.’ His eyes fell to her basket. ‘Are you shopping?’

‘No, sir. I bring a few small things for Mrs Hall. I call upon her every week, if I can.’

‘And you walk here alone? Should you not have a maid to accompany you?’

‘In a town where I am known by everyone? I do not think it necessary.’

‘And how long do you stay with Mrs Hall?’

‘Long enough to catch up on all the local news.’

He grinned. ‘That cannot take you very long at all in such a small place.’

‘About half an hour.’ She laughed up at him. ‘But it is good to stay in touch with old neighbours.’

‘Half an hour, you say?’ He took out his watch. ‘Then I shall be waiting by the market cross at eleven to escort you home.’

She was inordinately pleased at the thought and made no effort to discourage him. He touched his hat again to her as they parted.

‘Until eleven, then, Miss Havenham!’

Lucas hurried back to the Red Lion, where his man was waiting for him in his room.

George Stebbing had served under Lucas in the Peninsula and at Waterloo, where he had lost an arm. When they returned to England Lucas had taken him on as his valet and had never regretted it. Lucas prided himself that he was not dependent upon any man to dress and shave him, so Stebbing’s infirmity was of little consequence and like Rudd, Lucas’s groom, Stebbing’s loyalty to his master was absolute. Now he waited silently for Lucas’s orders.

‘Send a message to the manor, if you please, and tell Greenwood that I will not be there to see his man about the roof tiles until later—four, at
the earliest. He can handle all the arrangements until then.’

‘Very good, Major. You are going out?’

‘Yes, once I have changed my coat. I’ll wear the new superfine with the brass buttons, George. Can you find it for me? Hurry, man, I do not have long.’

‘I saw you talking to Miss Havenham in the market, Major. Would it be the lady you are off to meet?’

‘And what if I am?’

‘Knowing your, er, interest in the family, sir, I have been keeping my ears open.’

‘Oh?’

With his one hand Stebbing held up the blue coat for his master. Lucas shrugged himself into it and stood before the long mirror to rearrange his neck cloth.

‘Miss Havenham and her father are very well thought of in Stanton, sir.’

‘I am well aware of that—what is your point?’

‘Business is one thing.’ Stebbing dragged the clothes brush across Lucas’s shoulders. ‘If the family is brought down because they can’t meet their obligations, well, there’s no helping that.’

‘But? I feel you are about to admonish me, George.’

‘I wouldn’t do that, sir, but…’

Lucas met his man’s eyes in the mirror. ‘Out
with it, man. We have known each other long enough for you to say what you think.’ He added wryly, ‘You are not usually so reticent.’

‘Well, sir, if you wants the word with no bark on it, I don’t think people here would take too kindly to your seducing Miss Havenham.’

Lucas’s brows snapped together. ‘Damn you, George, do you think that is my intention?’

Stebbing rubbed his chin. ‘Your
intention
is to punish her father for what he did to you, sir, and ruining his daughter would be one way of doing it.’

A dull flush crept into Lucas’s cheek. It was so close to the truth that he could not deny it, but until the words were spoken aloud he had not considered the enormity of what he had planned.

‘I have no intention of ruining Miss Havenham,’ he said at last. ‘I plan to offer her marriage as a means of saving her father from total ruin. To that end I am befriending her. It will be better, when the time comes, that she does not find me totally repulsive.’

The sceptical look in his servant’s eye made him look away.

‘You can try that, Major, but I can’t see as how she could do otherwise, once she discovers what you are about.’

Lucas went out, trying to banish Stebbing’s words from his mind, but they were lodged
there, niggling away. Damn George, he had it all wrong. He had no intention of
seducing
Annabelle Havenham. It was not as if he intended to bed her, then abandon her.

But you do plan to make her fall in love with you
.

He twisted away from the uncomfortable thought. Hell and confound it, he had changed his plans once with regard to Samuel’s daughter. He would not do so again.

Annabelle was already approaching the market cross when he arrived. Lucas schooled his face into a smile.

‘Let me carry your basket for you, Miss Havenham.’

She released the wicker basket into his hand and took his arm. The High Street was busy and he knew the sight of them strolling off together like this would do nothing to halt the speculation. Let the townspeople gossip, there could be no harm in it. But while Lucas conversed pleasantly with his companion about everyday things, he found George’s words would not leave his brain. She would be horrified when his plans were revealed, but she would learn to accept it. Wouldn’t she?

He pushed the disturbing thoughts aside. He need not think about that. Not yet.

‘Do you often walk into Stanton, Miss Havenham?’

‘Not as often as I would like—there is much for me to do at Oakenroyd. Not only keeping house for my father, but running the estate, too. As he grows older he passes more responsibility on to me.’

‘That must be a heavy burden.’

‘No, why?’ She looked at him, genuinely surprised. ‘I love Oakenroyd and want the best for it and our people. Do you think administration is a task best suited to a man, Mr Monserrat?’

Her grey eyes held a laughing challenge and he could not help smiling back at her.

‘I would not dare to suggest such a thing.’

‘I am very glad. I take advice from Mr Telford, our lawyer, and also from the steward, but that is no more than any conscientious landowner should do.’

‘Of course.’

‘Our neighbours are very good, too, and are always willing to give me the benefit of their experience. We are fortunate to live amongst such good people.’

‘You are indeed.’ They had come to a junction and he stopped. ‘Do we take the road, Miss Havenham, or is there a shorter way?’

She pointed to a narrow track.

‘That is by far the quickest and the prettiest, too, so let us take that.’

The sun was warm on their backs and as they left the town the plaintive cries of a curlew carried to them from the upland pastures. They talked, although Lucas could not recall afterwards the subject. All he could remember was the sparkle in her eyes when she was animated and how much he wanted to kiss that smiling mouth.

Their path lay alongside a stream, swollen with spring rains and when the path narrowed he fell behind, enjoying the view of her confident stride, the sway of her hips that made the skirts of her muslin gown dance about her ankles. And what pretty ankles, too: neatly encased in their half-boots, above which he occasionally caught the glimpse of a silk stocking. His musings carried him off into a daydream, where he was removing those same stockings and kissing the dainty foot beneath…

‘Mr Monserrat, I do not think you are listening to me.’ She had stopped and turned towards him, grey eyes twinkling with amusement. ‘I have addressed several remarks to you and had no reply.’

A stray curl had escaped from her bonnet and now fluttered across her cheek, the ends caressing her mouth, just as he wished to do. Without
thinking he raised his finger to hook away the curl. She did not flinch, did not move at all even when his hand cupped her cheek. His body hardened. It was as much as he could do not to draw her towards him and all the while she kept looking at him. The twinkle died, replaced by a look of shy anticipation. And trust.

With an effort he quashed the desire, forced himself to remove his hand from her cheek and step back.

‘I beg your pardon. I was not attending.’

‘You were perhaps thinking of Morwood and all the work you have to do there?’

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. ‘I do not think I dare tell you what I was thinking of.’

The lashes fluttered down, screening her eyes, but there was no concealing the telltale blush on her cheek. Her next words surprised him.

‘I thought you were going to kiss me.’

‘That would hardly be the actions of a gentleman.’

‘No.’ The word ended in a sigh that he could almost interpret as regret.

‘Miss Havenham—Annabelle. There is so much you do not know about me.’

‘We are to be neighbours, sir. I am sure we shall learn all about you in due course.’

Her comfortable tone struck a blow at his conscience.
Would she ever smile at him again once she knew the truth? Would she turn from him in disgust? He squared his shoulders. That was for the future.

‘You will indeed.’ He offered her his arm. ‘The path is wider here. Shall we walk on?’

Annabelle rested her fingers on his sleeve. Strange that she should feel so at ease now with this man. Even the moment when he had touched her cheek, when she had thought he was going to kiss her, she had not been frightened. She was a little shocked to realise just how much she had wanted him to kiss her, to compare it with that first, bruising embrace that he had forced upon her.

A pleasurable thrill ran through her. This man was dangerous, she knew it in every fibre of her being, but she could not help being drawn to him. She enjoyed his company, the way he teased but never patronised her. They laughed at the same things. Even at dinner at the Rishworths, the first time she had seen him in company and had been very much on her guard, there had been moments when something had sparked her sense of the ridiculous and she had seen a corresponding gleam of amusement in his hard eyes. Despite their disastrous beginning, she thought—hoped—they could be friends.

The next few weeks passed quietly at Oakenroyd with no visit from their new neighbour.

‘I confess I am a little surprised that Mr Monserrat has not called,’ said Samuel in his mild way. ‘We have not seen him since the day he escorted you back from Stanton.’

‘I expect he is busy with the building work at Morwood.’

Annabelle replied lightly, but she too was disappointed. Perhaps he had thought her conduct unbecoming at their last meeting. After all, she had accused him of wanting to kiss her. She had not thought him offended, but her experience of gentlemen was limited, so she could not be sure.

She went about her business as usual, consulting the steward, looking after the house and her father, paying morning calls and receiving them in return, but through it all there was a sense of something missing, that life was, dare she say it, a little
dull
. It was not that she heard nothing about Mr Monserrat. It seemed everyone in Stanton was eager to follow his progress, and because so many of the menfolk were employed upon the rebuilding of Morwood there was no want of news.

The town was buzzing with information about the amount that was being spent on new tiles for
the roof and glass for the windows. Annabelle tried to be happy about the changes. After all, the house and grounds were in dire need of restoration, but she had come to look upon Morwood as her own special place. It was difficult to think of someone else owning it, changing it.

Lady Rishworth called at Oakenroyd with Celia and told her that any number of carts and wagons were passing Rishworth Lodge every day, bound for the Manor.

‘And the road between Morwood and the town is to be remade,’ added Celia. ‘That will make our lives so much more comfortable when we go out. We won’t be forever bounced around in the carriage.’ She blushed, ‘Oh—that is, I mean—’

Annabelle smiled at her.

‘Pray do not distress yourself, Celia. Do not think that because we are presently managing without our barouche you must guard your tongue. Heavens, what a sad time we should have of it if we had to consider every word we say!’

‘A very sensible view, my dear,’ approved Lady Rishworth. ‘And your father’s fortunes will come about again with a little good management, I am sure. But to return to the subject of the roads, I am sure the new surfacing will be beneficial to everyone. What with that and the new toll road at Dyke’s Ridge, travel to and
from Stanton will be easier than it has ever been and that can only be good news.’

Even when Annabelle went to collect her new gown for the forthcoming assembly, Mrs Ford told her that Mr Monserrat was making himself universally popular by paying at every store, rather than using credit, which was the way with most of the large houses in the area.

‘Which reminds me, Miss Havenham.’ Mrs Ford gave an apologetic smile. ‘There is still the bill for your winter redingote to be settled.’

Annabelle blinked, but immediately begged pardon and promised to pay all outstanding bills by the end of the week.

‘Oh, there is no hurry,’ the dressmaker replied hastily. ‘I know I can rely upon you, but in these difficult times it is perhaps best to be beforehand in the world.’

Annabelle left with her new gown, but also with a sense of unease. She had visited the dressmaker hundreds of times over the years and money had never been mentioned. Now it seemed she thought Miss Havenham of Oakenroyd might not be able to pay her way.

Annabelle was still frowning over the idea when she reached home and learned that Mr Telford was closeted with her father. She knocked on the study door and went in.

‘I beg your pardon, Papa, may I speak with you both?’

‘Of course. Come in, my dear, come in.’

‘I wanted to talk to you about our…financial situation. I hope you do not mind, Papa? I was in Stanton today, with Mrs Ford, and something she said…’