BRIGHTON BEAUTY (16 page)

In spite of the niggling anxiety in the back of her mind that she was showing far too much interest in affairs that did not really concern her, she asked question after question of him, knowing all the while that her questions pleasured him. And pleasing Lord Rathbone, she found, gave her the greatest joy she had ever experienced in her life.

Now, as Dulcie helped her into another of Alayna's lovely frocks . . . this one a pretty blue and white striped round gown with a tiny blue velvet spencer jacket . . . she greatly looked forward to spending the entire day with him. After settling the matching blue toque bonnet onto her curls, she drew on a pair of long kid gloves and hurried belowstairs.

In the hall she caught sight of Lord Rathbone imparting instructions to one of the liveried footmen. Not even trying to squelch the tingling sensation that pulsed through her veins as her eyes raked over his attractive form, she openly admired his rugged masculinity. He looked as handsome as ever this morning in a cut-away coat of dark brown superfine with a pair of thigh-hugging beige breeches tucked into polished brown top boots.

Upon hearing her clipped footfalls on the bare stone floor behind him, he turned to face her. Chelsea at once returned the smile of greeting on his face, then noticing the canary yellow waistcoat he wore, her smile became a laugh.

"How very fetching you look!" she said, reaching a gloved finger to flirtatiously tap his broad chest, brilliant in the yellow silk brocade affair.

Rathbone laughed a bit sheepishly. "A bit showy, I expect. I confess it is not my usual style."

"Nonetheless, I like it very much. It makes you look like a . . . a . . . "

"
Swangra buckra?
"

Chelsea laughed merrily "A what?"

"Swangra buckra," Rathbone said again, as he curled her hand over the crook of his arm and escorted her into the sunny courtyard. "It's a term the Negroes use when referring to an elegantly dressed white man. I believe the literal meaning has something to do with a powerful or superior being."

"Then they are exactly right," Chelsea returned gaily.

"I daresay you flatter me, my dear."

"No, I don't," Chelsea returned quietly, then blushed to her toes when his answering smile sent waves of pleasure coursing through her.

As the small curricle jounced along the sun-dappled countryside, Chelsea thought she'd never felt so happy and content in all her life. Even the blood red poppies and sky-blue cornflowers dancing in the fields they passed seemed to nod gay greetings to them. Overhead she was aware of birds chirping and trilling in the tree-tops and when a butterfly, looking much like a flying splash of color, whizzed past her nose, she felt as giddy as a child being let out of doors after a long cold winter of confinement.

Without considering what she was doing, she snuggled a bit closer to Lord Rathbone on the cushioned bench, enjoying to the hilt the warm feel of his hard thigh pressed to her softer one.

Apparently feeling every bit as contented as she, he edged closer to her. "Having you close beside me feels nice, Alayna," he murmured.

Her heart fairly bursting with joy, Chelsea smiled up at him. "I've never been so happy, my lord," she whispered, gazing at him through mist-filled eyes.

"Nor have I," he returned gravely. "To say truth, I am very pleased with the way things have turned out between us. I admit, when Mother and our aunts Lettie and Eudora first began to push for the match, I was against it." He paused, as if considering whether or not to proceed. "If you must know, it was your letters, Alayna, or rather, what I perceived from your letters . . . as infrequent as they were," he added, his tone growing hard. "At any rate, they were quite full of . . . well, your
ton
activities, new ball gowns, your various jaunts here and there, riding in Bath . . . " He halted abruptly. "By the by, you never did tell me why you ceased to ride. As I recall, you were quite an accomplished horsewoman." He turned a questioning gaze on Chelsea.

The moment he had begun to speak of Alayna had been so jarring to Chelsea, she had fairly reeled from the blow. "I . . . I simply gave it up," was all she could manage now.

"Hmm, I see. Well, in any event, you seem to have also given up many of your former undesirable traits. And I daresay I am glad enough for the change in you. Mother is quite right, you have become a very charming and selfless young lady. I confess I feel privileged to make you my wife."

Chelsea felt like dead weight on the bench. How quickly she had forgotten that she was, indeed, only playing a part.

The sickening feeling in her stomach had not left her by the time they arrived at the famed Rows in Chester. Before they even reached the land agent's office, several townsfolk recognized the pair of them and remarked gaily upon the forthcoming fair to be held on the castle grounds.

"I expect in my absence you and Mother have finalized your plans for the upcoming festivities," Lord Rathbone remarked to Chelsea, after yet another person had commented upon it.

"Yes." She nodded. "All is readiness now. The placards were posted near a week ago."

"Ah, yes. I quite forgot I had promised to do that for you. But I see that in your usual competent fashion, you handled it quite well without me. You are a marvel, Alayna." He smiled down upon her.

Chelsea made no comment, though the compliment warmed her.

After spending a few moments at the land agent's office, the two set out to browse through the many interesting shops. To appease the gentleman, Chelsea felt forced to make a few small purchases . . . a half dozen pairs of kid gloves, a box of linen handkerchiefs and two lengths of plain white muslin suitable for light summer gowns.

"You will be glad enough for it," Lord Rathbone said as they exited the shop. "Summers can be quite warm in the tropics. More often than not, I return to the house at the end of a long day in the sun with my shirt sleeves rolled up and perspiration dripping from my brow."

Chelsea found it difficult to imagine that the elegantly attired gentleman striding along beside her could ever appear so disheveled as all that.

Apparently divining her thoughts, he grinned. "I doubt you will refer to me as a swangra buckra then. In fact, I wonder if you will admire me at all when my trousers are splattered with mud and my once white shirt is soiled, or torn beyond repair."

In an effort to keep from saying that she would admire him no matter what, Chelsea turned her face away, biting her lower lip so hard she feared it might bleed.

They strolled in silence for a spell, then at length Lord Rathbone said, "I daresay the time has come for me to select a gift for you, sweetheart."

They were approaching a small shop with a window full of sparkling jewels. Pausing before it, Lord Rathbone slipped an arm about Chelsea's slim waist and drew her closer to his side. "Just there," he said, pointing a gloved finger at some item displayed in the window. "What do you think? I spotted it a week ago and almost purchased it then, but decided to wait 'til we came into town together. Do you like it?"

"I-I'm not sure which piece you mean," Chelsea said quietly, realizing that even if she wanted to, she would be unable to stop him from purchasing a gift for her. Of course, whatever he bought, she would hand it over to Alayna the minute she returned to the castle.

"Just there. The heart-shaped locket with the tiny diamond in the center. I realize it isn't at all showy, but upon our marriage, you will, of course, inherit a good many lovely pieces from Mother. In the meantime, I have not seen you wear even one piece of jewelry, Alayna, and I should like to give you something that you might wear every day." His voice grew hoarse. "To remind you how very much I love you," he concluded, his final words just above a whisper.

"Oh-h," Chelsea breathed, longing with all her soul to echo the sentiment. "It's . . . beautiful, Ford. I shall be very proud to wear it . . . always," she added sincerely.

Lord Rathbone's chest expanded proudly. "Then it's yours. Come, I shall purchase it straightaway."

* * * *

O
n the return trip to the castle, Chelsea could not help reaching up at intervals to finger the golden locket clasped around her neck. The warm metal against the bare skin of her throat felt rich and smooth. She had not worn jewelry these last weeks for the simple reason that she did not own any, and apparently thinking that jewelry or accessories were unnecessary in the country, Alayna had not included any of her own when she had packed the two trunks that had accompanied Chelsea to Chester. Though, of course, Chelsea knew that Alayna did have quite an extensive collection of very costly pieces . . . diamond brooches, pearl necklaces, ruby earrings and a number of expensive bracelets to match. And Chelsea knew Alayna wore them often. Chelsea again fingered the locket. Alayna, she feared, would find this little trinket quite plain, perhaps even too plain to wear.

Chelsea tried to show a cheerful face that evening and again when she came down to breakfast the next morning. She knew her time with Lord and Lady Rathbone was growing short. Alayna would be returning to the castle any day now. What would happen to Chelsea then was anybody's guess.

"W
e shall take an excursion to Pemberton Keep this afternoon," Lord Rathbone declared, turning a smile upon Chelsea as she slid into her place that day for luncheon. "I sent word to the Pembertons last evening that we would be calling. It's been an age since I visited them. I collect you were once a favorite of Lady Pemberton, Alayna."

"Why, you are quite right, Rutherford," Lady Rathbone put in. "I completely forgot how fond Eleanor was of Alayna. We should have sent a note 'round telling her you were here. I am sure she would have come to tea."

"Indeed, we should have," Chelsea murmured, at a loss as to who the woman was and unable to summon the least bit of enthusiasm for yet one more trial she must endure before this hated charade was behind her.

"You are welcome to come with us, Mother," Lord Rathbone said, his eager tone a direct contrast to Chelsea's flat one. "You and Alayna could visit Lady Pemberton while I consult privately with Arthur. It seems Mr. Osgood, whom I am thinking of hiring as your new steward, was once employed by Arthur. I mean to quiz Pemberton thoroughly about the man."

"Well, you may go right ahead and do so," Lady Rathbone said with a laugh. "I shall be content to stay right here. Give them both my regards and tell Eleanor that I am greatly looking forward to seeing her at our ball come the end of the week. Alayna, you must remember to show Eleanor your new locket. She has such an appreciation for lovely things."

"Indeed I will," Chelsea murmured, reaching to finger the pretty necklace, which she had not taken off since Rutherford clasped it around her neck.

Lord Rathbone directed another smile at Chelsea. "Alayna has promised to wear the locket always."

"That was very sweet of you, my dear," Lady Rathbone said.

"Well then," his lordship concluded, reaching to help himself to yet another serving of roast beef and asparagus. "We shall leave just as soon as I have gone over last week's accounts. Shouldn't take overlong."

Chelsea nodded in silent agreement and in spite of the gnawing anxiety she felt over being put to yet another test, found herself quite looking forward to spending the long afternoon in Lord Rathbone’s agreeable company.

Abovestairs, she took her time leisurely donning another of Alayna's lovely gowns . . . a lavender sprigged dimity trimmed with blond lace at the neck and sleeves. She finished off the picture perfect outfit with a wide-brimmed leghorn bonnet that tied beneath her chin with a lavender satin ribbon.

"You look as charming as ever, Alayna," Lord Rathbone said, a flick of his wrist setting the horses drawing the small carriage into motion.

During the half-hour ride to Pemberton Keep, Chelsea nearly forgot her growing unease as once again she lost herself listening to Rutherford talk about his upcoming plans for the plantation.

"Did I mention that I mean to petition Parliament on behalf of myself and the other planters in regard to more equitable taxation on the exporting of mahogany and sugar?" he remarked to Chelsea as they jostled across the new bridge. "I had hoped to have time to attend a session when I was up to London last week, but I regret that all my days were filled with other matters, arranging for supplies to be sent on ahead of us and obtaining the necessary legal papers for the release of my inheritance."

Chelsea's heart swelled with pride at the thought of Rutherford actually addressing parliament. "You did not mention that to me," she said, her tone full of the interest she felt. "Perhaps you will still have a chance to deliver your speech before we leave England for good," she added, ignoring the prick of guilt she felt for again bringing up the subject of returning to Honduras with him.

"I have every intention of doing precisely that, my dear."

Chelsea thought a moment longer on his idea for lowering exportation taxes, then she said, "If the products that the planters export to England benefit everyone here, I should think Parliament would want to comply with the planters’ requests."

A sly look crossed Lord Rathbone's face. "My thoughts exactly. You do, indeed, have a keen eye for business, Alayna. To say truth, I grow more amazed each day at how like-minded we are." He seemed to edge a bit closer to her on the bench. "I have no doubt that we shall get on very well together as man and wife."

Chelsea's heart felt near to bursting. For her part, there was no denying she fell more and more in love with Lord Rathbone as each day passed. But, as usual, her glorious feeling of elation was short lived.

"I wonder what became of the Pemberton's youngest son, William?" Rathbone asked suddenly. "Surely Lady Pemberton has mentioned him in her letters to you, Alayna?"

Chelsea squirmed uncomfortably. "No, I . . . I do not recall that she has."

"Hmmm. That quite takes me by surprise. Considering."

Chelsea turned a look of bewilderment on her companion. "Considering?" Perhaps she would be wise to forget her pleasure for a bit and use this time instead to learn more about the woman whom she, or rather Alayna, had so favorably impressed as a child.