Midsummer Eve at Rookery End (7 page)

Eve Leighton uttered an unladylike curse as she stumbled over a fallen branch. In her haste, she had not given much thought to the practicalities of running through the garden with only thin evening slippers on her feet. It was proving especially difficult now she had abandoned the lantern-lit gravel walks for this spinney near the lake.

Halting by a beech tree to catch her breath, she drew the flowing cloak around her more tightly. Lydia would be furious when she discovered Eve had taken her best evening cloak of blue silk. The evening was warm, but Eve had thought she should be prepared for a long period in the garden and, when the servant had brought her sister’s cloak to her instead of her own, there had been no time to demur.

She sighed, tilted her head back and gazed up at the stars. A full moon hung in the sky, throwing its silvery hue over the landscape. The scent of honeysuckle filled the air and in the distance she could hear the breeze rippling the surface of the lake. It was a perfect midsummer night, but Eve could take little pleasure in her surroundings when she was so unhappy.

Her situation at home had grown intolerable in recent weeks. Now Lydia was out in society, her mother had made it clear to Eve that she must marry. Mrs Leighton was not bothered who Eve married as long as she did so quickly. That her eldest child was twenty-one years old and not betrothed was, her mother had declared, extremely vexatious and ruining her sister’s chance of a brilliant match.

Eve thought this remark had more to do with her mother wanting to be rid of her rather than Lydia’s circumstances. Her sister was lovely enough to achieve her aim of marrying into the peerage, whatever Eve’s situation.

Eve, who considered herself plain and dowdy beside Lydia’s beauty, did not lack for spirit though and she had remained steadfast in the face of her mother’s coercion. This further infuriated Mrs Leighton, and she had insisted that Eve make herself agreeable to Sir Ralph Vesey at the Rookery End ball.

Her mother, whose understanding was not great, was convinced Sir Ralph was about to make Eve an offer, but Eve saw Sir Ralph for what he was: an unscrupulous lecher who had no thoughts of marriage.

In spite of her mother’s sulks and cajoling, Eve had refused to encourage Sir Ralph. Instead, she had tried to discourage him by wearing her most unflattering gown and treating him coolly. But the more distant her manner, the more he seemed to view her as a challenge. Sir Ralph had pursued her all evening until she had been obliged to dance with him or risk being part of an unpleasant scene.

The dance had been the ordeal Eve anticipated. The naked lust in Sir Ralph’s eyes, his stale, wine-laden breath wafting in her face and the touch of his clammy fingers had made her flesh crawl. Desperate to get away, she had run into the garden, hoping that there she could escape Sir Ralph’s attentions until it was time to leave. Her mother would be furious but Eve no longer cared.

All was quiet, apart from some noises in the undergrowth nearby which Eve suspected was a badger. She decided to walk down to the lake and began to pick her way through the trees. When she emerged into a grassy clearing, she stopped to admire the fountain at one end of the moonlit expanse of water, only to cry out and wince when her arm was caught in an iron grasp.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding!” Sir Ralph, his face puce with anger, swung her round to face him. “You’ve led me a merry dance this evening but you won’t escape again.”

“Let me go,” demanded Eve, trying to conceal the fear in her voice.

“Not for a king’s ransom! You are a prudish little chit, but there is something about you that has quickened my blood. I will have you tonight – willing or not.”

Eve felt the colour drain from her cheeks, but said with tolerable composure, “You are drunk, sir. You cannot force yourself on me as if I were a poor servant girl without protection. My mama knows I have come outside for some air and she will be here at any moment.”

He gave an unpleasant smirk. “When I last saw your mother, she was busy simpering to the Earl of Halstead, who was admiring your sister. She didn’t look as if she was about to venture into the garden. I doubt she has even noticed your absence.” Sir Ralph pulled her roughly against him. “We are quite alone, my demure little love,” he muttered, running one hand from the top of her thigh to her breast. His eyes gleamed when he realized her ill-fitting gown concealed a petite but sinfully curvaceous figure. “Well, well,” he said with a lecherous grin, “so there’s a prime article beneath this revolting gown. This will be even more pleasurable than I anticipated. Now I don’t much care whether you enjoy what is to follow or not, but it will be the worse for you if you struggle. Just a kiss to begin …”

As Sir Ralph’s face loomed above hers, Eve tried to break free. It was useless – his grip was vice-like and although she tried to turn her head, his lips found hers in a punishing kiss. Knowing her only chance for escape lay in surprising him, Eve forced her body to relax and opened her mouth slightly. Sir Ralph, giving a grunt of approval, did likewise, which allowed Eve to bite down hard on his lower lip.

He fell back, cursing fiercely. “You damned little hellcat!” he said, trying to stem the blood oozing from his mouth. “By God, you need a lesson!”

Gathering up her skirts, Eve ran as fast as she could. Her heart was beating wildly in her chest and her breath came in frantic gasps, but she dared not stop or look over her shoulder. She ran along the edge of the lake and was beginning to think she could outrun him when she stumbled over the billowing folds of the cloak and fell to the ground.

It was enough to allow Sir Ralph to reach her.

Spitting blood, he dragged her to her feet. “I’ll make you regret that!”

When he began to pull her towards some nearby bushes, Eve cried out and fought furiously to get away. But Sir Ralph, emboldened by wine and now driven on by fury, held implacably to her wrist. Eve had almost given up hope when she heard a smooth, deep voice demand curtly,

“Let the lady go, Vesey.”

A few moments earlier, the Marquess had seen the flash of blue in the moonlight and assumed it was Celeste Draycott. A frown had gathered on his brow at her stupidity – she was going in the wrong direction to reach the Greek temple. Then he had watched her stumble, had seen the man who had appeared suddenly grasp her by the wrist and haul her upright, and, finally, he had heard her cry out.

Puzzled, he had walked toward the couple until he was near enough to see it was not Lady Draycott in her beaded gown. It was a lady in a blue figured silk cloak. The man was Sir Ralph Vesey.

The Marquess watched from the shadows for a moment. Sir Ralph’s attentions were clearly unwelcome – there was a struggle going on – and the lady was offering up a spirited fight. He ground out an oath. It was high time he intervened.

When he uttered his curt command, Sir Ralph looked up quickly. “Shaftesbury!” he cried. “What right have you to spoil my sport? Go away and mind your own affairs! We don’t need your interference.”

“I think the lady might be of a different opinion.” The marquess allowed his sardonic gaze to rest on Sir Ralph’s blood-smeared lip and chin.

“S-Sir,” said Eve on a sob, as she turned around and used trembling fingers to push back the large hood that had fallen over her head during the struggle, “I am indeed, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for rescuing me from this monster! If you had not arrived when you did—”

The marquess, who had raised one shapely hand to indicate that neither her thanks nor her explanation were necessary, let it fall back to his side when he saw her face. His eyes opened a little wider as he exclaimed, “You!”

Bewildered by this response, she searched his face.

“Do I know you, sir?”

“No, but I knew you from the moment I looked into your eyes,” he murmured. Addressing Sir Ralph once more, he snapped in a voice of cold fury, “Vesey, you will release this lady at once, return to the house and take your leave of Lord and Lady Allingham.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” replied Sir Ralph with a sneer. “Want the girl yourself, do you? Well, you can’t – the chit has thrown herself at me all evening and I intend to have her.”

“Leave,” he demanded inexorably as he walked towards Sir Ralph, “before you become extremely unwell.”

“Unwell?” Vesey laughed, believing his adversary was referring to his drunken state. “Devil take it, you must be mad! I can hold my liquor better than most men. Look at me,” he said, spreading his arms wide to demonstrate his steadiness. “I’m as fine as ninepence!”

Stepping forward, the marquess muttered, “Not anymore,” before delivering a crashing right hook which sent Sir Ralph flying into the lake.

He emerged from the shallows spluttering and choking a few seconds later. Staggering to his feet, he swayed, waist deep in water. Water dripped from his hair and clumps of slimy green weed adorned his evening clothes. A sizeable swelling had already sprouted on his jaw and that, coupled with his bloody mouth and sodden clothing, left Sir Ralph looking bedraggled. He crawled out of the lake, only to give a guttural cry of rage and charge.

The marquess neatly sidestepped him and administered a blow to his solar plexus, whereupon he fell to the ground, clutching his stomach and groaning until Shaftesbury said bluntly, “Get up, you worthless weasel.”

“God damn you!” mumbled Sir Ralph, rising unsteadily. “Take her then; she’s nothing special and I wish you joy of the frigid little bitch!”

The marquess’s lips set in a hard line. “Not another word, Vesey, or I will mete out more of the same,” he said in a voice of cold fury.

Sir Ralph, who had been wishing for some minutes that he had his pistol to hand, decided retreat was his only option. With a defiant look, he pressed a wet handkerchief to his mouth and began to trudge back towards the house, water squelching from his shoes as he went.

She ran towards her rescuer with the voluminous cloak rippling behind her like a wave.

“My dear sir,” she began, impulsively taking one of his hands between hers and lifting it to her face, “thank God you happened this way when you did! Tell me at once, to whom am I indebted?”

“The Marquess of Shaftesbury,” he replied, a curious half smile on his lips as he looked down into her brilliant gaze and watched her holding his palm against her cheek.

His name clearly meant little or nothing to her. She placed a kiss in his palm before releasing it.

“You have my deepest gratitude, Lord Shaftesbury. As you saw, Sir Ralph was drunk and determined and if you had not intervened, my fate would have been sealed. He lied when he said I had been throwing myself at him; I have been trying to avoid him all evening, despite my mother’s edict to encourage him. That is why I came into the garden.”

“I know that you speak the truth, Miss—?”

“Leighton. Eve Leighton.”

After an infinitesimal start of surprise, he bowed and continued, “I know you speak the truth, Miss Leighton. I witnessed your distaste for Sir Ralph in the ballroom earlier, when you were dancing with him. Your courage in the face of his disgusting assault was admirable.”

“He is a hateful man.”

“A deeply repellent fellow, I agree. Why, then, is your mother insisting that you encourage him?”

She blushed, but she did not avoid his gaze. “My mama is foolish and managing, my lord. She believed Sir Ralph was about to offer for me and, although I have tried to dissuade her, she would not be gainsaid. My younger sister is very beautiful and in her first season, and my mother believes the fact I am not married is hampering Lydia’s chances of securing a match with an earl.”

“I see. Forgive me Miss Leighton, but I find your mother’s reasoning specious. Which earl is your sister hopeful of marrying? Perhaps I know him.”

A gurgle of laughter broke from Eve. “Oh, Lydia has not yet decided
which
earl she will marry, only that her future husband must be of at least that rank!”

Amusement lurked at the corner of his mouth; he liked Miss Leighton’s unaffected manner and the unflinching way her glorious eyes met his.

“Then your sister is ambitious as well as beautiful?” he asked.

“Yes, but she is also quite as foolish as Mama,” said Eve, with a sigh. “I confess they are a trial to me, but I suppose that sounds disrespectful.”

“Not at all. I, too, can vouch for one’s relatives being a trial.”

“Can you?” she said. “Then you will understand my desire to break free of them. Not entirely, for they are the only family I have, but I want to live away from their influence. You see, we are completely unalike and I don’t want to become as stupid as they are.”

He gave her an admiring look. “Miss Leighton, if only I had viewed familial matters in the same way as you, my life would be very different.”

With the moonlight reflecting off her silk cloak, she tilted her head to one side to regard him candidly. “But being a man and a Marquess, you may do as you wish so I don’t understand why you haven’t. As a woman, my choices are very limited. Still, I’m determined to get away from home after this evening.”

“Excepting Sir Ralph, do you intend to marry in order to escape?” he asked, watching her.

Eve shook her head. “There is no prospect of it. Gentlemen rarely notice me once they have been introduced to my sister,” she observed, in a voice devoid of resentment. “At least my accomplishments are reasonable – unlike Lydia, I did not waste my time at school – so I shall either become a governess or obtain a teaching post at a ladies’ seminary.”

“You would choose that path instead of a more comfortable life at home?”

“Of course,” said Eve. “What is the point of being comfortable if one is also totally miserable?”

For the first time in years, he uttered a spontaneous and genuine laugh. “Miss Leighton, your logic is impeccable.”

Colour rose to her cheeks. She smiled shyly and murmured, “Is that a compliment, Lord Shaftesbury?”

“A most sincere one, my dear. Now, I am sorry to say that, given my reputation, it will not do for us to be discovered alone together in the moonlight. I therefore recommend we return to the house as soon as possible.”