Laura Matthews (25 page)

“I would be willing to advance you a reasonable sum,” Alvescot offered.

Edward didn’t like the word “advance,” but, since he never bothered to pay anyone back the money he borrowed, it didn’t unduly bother him. “I’ll need at least five hundred pounds.”

Alvescot’s brows lifted in skeptical amusement. “I would have thought three hundred would suffice for a single traveler. More than suffice. That’s the figure I had in mind.”

His voice had a “take it or leave it” quality which galled Edward, but he was not about to refuse the offer, either. If his father was indeed involved in a profitable gambling enterprise, Edward felt sure a partnership was in order. Strange he’d never thought of doing something on that order himself. Like most of the idle young men of his acquaintance, he was continually at the tables, finding more excitement there than in the rest of his uneventful life. Of course, it wouldn’t do to have such an establishment in England, but in Italy . . .

With a frown, he accepted Alvescot’s offer of three hundred pounds. He didn’t bother to thank the earl, or offer to sign a note. Accepting money was something he did automatically rather than graciously. Edward was convinced he should have been born into a wealthier family and acted, when the opportunity arose, as though he had been. On this occasion, he was irritated by Alvescot’s condescending attitude, but three hundred pounds was three hundred pounds. He agreed to come to the earl’s room later to get part of the money in cash and accept a bank draft for the remainder. Edward felt sure that if he had as much money at his disposal as Alvescot, he would carry a far greater sum on his person.

* * * *

Alvescot was aware of Edward’s irritation; the younger man made no attempt to disguise it. But when Edward had tried to play games with him, he’d resolved not to be a party to the rascal’s childish tricks. There was never the least doubt in either man’s mind that Edward would go to Italy. The only question was how much Edward would try to get, and Alvescot considered three hundred pounds the limit he was willing to expend, especially when it had occurred to him it was Edward’s fault Vanessa had injured her shoulder.

What Edward did not fully comprehend, perhaps, was that he might not have the opportunity to return to Cutsdean if his mission in Italy didn’t succeed. There was no chance Alvescot would allow him to take up residence at Cutsdean if
he
had anything to say about it, and he was still hopeful that he would. Vanessa had at least assumed he was going to stay with her for a while. That in itself could be counted a good sign, when there were few enough others.

The midday meal was fast approaching, so Alvescot went directly to his room to change. Oldcastle must have arrived by now, he realized, and the group that would assemble in the Saloon was likely to be keyed to a fine pitch. Hortense was not going to like the earl’s being back; Mabel was going to love it. Louisa would be confused and despairing about the coincidence; William was likely to find it the final straw. Edward would consider the whole situation amusing; Vanessa . . . well, it was hard to tell how Vanessa would feel.

He met her in the hall on his way to the Saloon and she smiled apologetically at him. “I haven’t told them you’re here, James. Do forgive me, but I wanted William to have his moment of glory before . . . well, you know what I mean.”

Yes, he knew what she meant. Still, it was rather discouraging to find she put the comfort of her other guests above his. Alvescot was in the habit of having things arranged for his own convenience. Her loyalty was admirable, no doubt, but it hardly soothed his wounded pride. Would she be as loyal to him when (and if) they married?

“Edward knows,” he said. “I’ve spoken to him and agreed to advance him three hundred pounds for his journey.”

“Three hundred pounds! James, he’ll never pay it back.”

“Oh, I know. He asked for five.”

Vanessa laid a hand on his sleeve, gazing up at him with worried eyes. “I don’t want you to be out of pocket, James. Please allow me to reimburse you.”

“We’ll discuss it later, my dear. Let’s see him away from Cutsdean first. He won’t tell his mother and sister about Mr. Curtiss. If there’s a bonanza to be had, he wants to be the only one to have it.”

“Naturally.” She withdrew her hand from his arm as he opened the door to the Saloon and her assembled guests.

It was apparent by their expressions when they saw Alvescot that Edward hadn’t told them about the earl’s arrival. Whether this was out of his desire not to let escape anything concerning their conversation, or mere maliciousness, Vanessa didn’t spend any time contemplating. There was a chorus of astonished reactions.

Hortense glared at him and demanded, “What are
you
doing here?”

Quite the opposite greeting from Mabel, who was seated beside William on the sofa but immediately rose to come forward with outstretched hand. “I
knew
you would return. I told them you had every intention of returning. There was never a doubt in my mind. Who could see Louisa and not be enchanted with her? She shall play the pianoforte for you directly after luncheon.”

Poor Louisa looked sick. Her gaze traveled from William to Alvescot and back. The earl nodded politely to her but William glared at both of them. He had stood at Vanessa’s entry and now strode to Louisa’s chair, muttering, “Why didn’t you tell me he had come back? Why did you pretend to be so glad to see me?”

“I
am
glad to see you, William, and I didn’t know his lordship had returned.” Her voice was little more than a whisper.

“Very likely,” he sniffed, turning on his heel and stalking to the window. Louisa followed him, going so far as to pluck at his sleeve to get his attention. “I won’t play for him after luncheon, no matter what Mama says,” she breathed, agitated. “It may be necessary for me to play this evening, if Vanessa wishes it, but I won't play before then, I promise you.”

William was only slightly mollified. It had been difficult enough for him to work up the courage to return to Cutsdean after his contretemps with Vanessa. To find Alvescot here was decidedly too much. For one hour, when he had first arrived, everything had seemed to be going his way. Mabel had courted him and Louisa had gazed at him with her limpid blue eyes full of devotion. Her eyes, he noted now, were full of desperation, or something, but it was not devotion. William would have liked to announce, to the whole crowd of them, that he and Louisa were going to walk in the garden. Right then, when they should be going into luncheon. But Hortense was watching them with her cold, sharp eyes, and Edward was sneering at them. Mabel didn’t look at him at all, but came and dragged her daughter away without a word.

Luncheon was an uncomfortable meal. But then, as Alvescot recalled, it usually was. William spoke to no one, and Mabel insisted that Louisa sit next to the earl. Hortense likewise was silent, regarding him with disdainful eyes.

Since Vanessa was at the opposite end of the table from him, he could not speak with her, but made polite conversation with Louisa, assuring her (as she was the only one to ask) that his brother was progressing nicely. After the meal he stated firmly to Mabel that he intended to see his godchildren and would be pleased to hear Louisa perform on the pianoforte after dinner.

“I didn’t bring them anything,” he told Vanessa as they climbed the stairs together to the nursery floor. “I left St. Aldwyns in rather a hurry, once my mind was made up to come here. Do you think they’ll mind?”

“No, of course not. They never had the opportunity to thank you for your gifts before you left. You wouldn’t want to spoil them . . . the way I do,” she teased.

“I wouldn’t mind,” he murmured, not quite loud enough for her to be sure she heard. And then, in a normal tone, “I like your children, Vanessa. My sister says all children are demanding when they’re young, and what you should look for is a good disposition and forthrightness. John and Catherine are possessed of both, thank heaven. Even if they can be disconcerting at times.”

Vanessa very much wanted to ask him if he had discussed her children in particular with his sister, but found she hadn’t the nerve. “Does your sister have children of her own?”

“Yes, two of them, but she and her husband have been living in Ireland for the last few years and I haven’t seen them very often. Janine’s at St. Aldwyns now for a visit while her husband confers with government officials in London. He has an appointment in Ireland which is rather tricky to handle and I think she’s glad to be back at St. Aldwyns for a few weeks. I hope she’ll still be there when you come to visit.”

“I’m surprised you were willing to leave when she was there, if she comes so seldom.”

Alvescot was following her down the hall to the schoolroom now and couldn’t see her face. “The first time I came she had left to visit her husband’s family for a while. This time . . . she understood the necessity of my leaving.”

In the open doorway she turned to study him. There was no mistaking the fondness in his eyes, the conspiratorial half-smile that played about his lips. Vanessa felt her heart rate speed slightly and suffered a moment’s shortness of breath. Alongside the excitement was a trace of fear. Was this what she wanted? For herself, undeniably yes. But was it best for her children? She glanced into the room where they played easily together.

“Catherine, John, look who’s here,” she called.

At sight of him looming behind her in the doorway, they squealed with delight. Vanessa wondered when he’d had the time to so capture their enthusiasm. She watched as they ran to him and he caught one in each arm. Both children spoke at once, asking questions, telling him their latest adventures. It was as if they’d known him all their lives, but had been separated from him for a long time.

Vanessa was willing to concede that they liked him, which was not the same thing as saying they would want him as a stepfather. He was like a favorite uncle to them, now. But how would they feel if he uprooted them, took them away to a place they’d never known and didn’t want to know? They weren’t particularly timid children, but such an upheaval in their lives was bound to upset them. And Alvescot would expect a great deal of her time, time which might have to be taken from that set aside for the children.

For an hour he stayed with them and talked, about his home and about theirs. Frequently he glanced up at Vanessa to see how she was reacting to this ploy, but her face was guarded. When John asked him how long he was staying, he said, “I don’t know yet, but this time I’m sure I won’t have to leave without saying good-bye. You’ll know when I’m going to leave as soon as I do.”

“Stay,” Catherine insisted, working her little fist inside his large one. “Everyone stays.”

“Yes,” he agreed, laughing. “I’ve noticed that.”

“Mr. Oldcastle is here, too,” Vanessa told them, but they showed not the least interest.

Chapter Eighteen

“Will you ride with me?” Alvescot asked as they left the schoolroom.

“Yes,”
Vanessa said, though her shoulder still gave her a little trouble on horseback.

“I’ll have to borrow one of your animals. I only brought the carriage team.”

“Of course. We have several horses who will carry your weight.” They were on the first floor landing and he stood so close she could have touched him by lifting a hand. “Shall we meet at the stables in a quarter of an hour?”

Alvescot repressed a desire to touch her glorious hair or brush her cheek with a loving finger. Patience, he schooled himself. She does like you, she’s simply not sure if this is a wise step to take. He did expect to be able to convince her that it was. “Quarter of an hour,” he confirmed, watching as she walked away from him toward her corner suite at the other end of the hall. From the way she moved, not quite so gracefully as usual, he knew she was aware of his scrutiny and he turned reluctantly to his room.

When she arrived at the stables a few minutes after him, she wore a royal blue riding habit with a foam of lace at the collar and cuffs. He’d never seen the outfit before and knew without being told that it was her best.

“Your groom suggested Winterfrost for me. I’ve had your mare saddled.” He allowed the groom to assist her onto her horse, though he would have preferred to do it himself. It turned out best that he didn’t, though, because this way he was able to watch her mount and he saw the slight wince as she twisted to arrange herself in the sidesaddle. Apparently her shoulder was not so well mended as she would have him believe. Alvescot felt a rush of anger toward Edward, but shoved it aside. They were going to be rid of Edward for good and what was important was that he keep his eye on Vanessa to see she didn’t tire herself.

As they rode, the sun beat down on them and sparkled off the metal on the horses’ harness. Alvescot spoke of his family, of St. Aldwyns, of Frederick. They encountered Paul Burford, whose eyes widened in surprise when he recognized the earl, but who greeted him warmly and inquired after his brother. Burford did not stay with them long, leaving with a jaunty, expectant smile.
He
knows why I’m here, Alvescot thought, slightly disgruntled. Perhaps it was time to make his visit more explicit to Vanessa.

They had ridden into a leafy glade where the luscious green grass was inviting and a profusion of wildflowers poked their blossoms toward the afternoon sunlight. Primrose and wood sorrel were interspersed with wood anemone and bluebells, each looking fragile but courageously gay. Alvescot reined in his horse. “Shall we?”

Even the short ride had made her shoulder ache, but Vanessa was half afraid to leave the safety of her mount. His eyes were softly caressing, squinting in the bright light. Behind him she saw a bird flash in the tree branches, its flight an easy escape. “All right.”

With that muscular simplicity of motion she had grown to admire, he dismounted and tied his horse to a tree, turning to grasp her about the waist and ease her descent. His hands remained at her sides for a moment, steadying her, before he asked, “Your shoulder’s hurting, isn’t it?”

Vanessa dismissed the pain lightly. “Only the least bit. I haven’t ridden much since the accident.”