Summerset Abbey (31 page)

Colin waved his hand. “But I thought we had brought refreshments?” He peered into a small basket that had been sitting on the bank. “Elaine, all you brought was hot chocolate and spirits?”

Elaine shook her muff at him. “You said we should rough it.”

Andrew stood at attention, waiting to be dismissed so he could help the others set up their food. Rowena frowned, noticing a cut above one eye and a bruise across his brow bone. Had he been in a fight?

While Colin and his friend verbally sparred over the definition of “roughing it,” Andrew stood, waiting to be dismissed.

“Thank you, Andrew. That will be all,” Rowena said, unable to bare his awkward, erect stance any longer. The footman gave her a nod of gratitude and hurried up the bank to the auto.

Colin looked at the decanter in his hand. “Well, as long as it’s out, let’s drink to the new members.”

Victoria’s face fell. “What? No pledging of blood or secret initiation?”

“You can always jump down a rabbit hole,” Kit drawled next to her, and again, Rowena saw the complicit smiles they gave each other. Was there something more than just an innocent flirtation going on between them, something she should know about? Not for the first time she felt the overwhelming responsibility her father’s death had created for her. Why did she still feel so unequal to the challenge?

“No blood as yet,” Sebastian said, speaking for the first time. “The opium dens all come later.”

Everyone laughed as the servants picked their way down the bank with trays piled high with sandwiches. Rowena twitched her shoulders, out of place and out of sorts. The servants had brought chairs for the ladies and set them up on the edge of the ice. Victoria sat down and patted the chair next to her.

“Come eat with me, Ro. Aren’t you famished?”

From across the pond where the other vehicle had stopped came a loud hooting. The others, busy with their food and flasks, took no notice, but when Rowena glanced over, she saw the servants all looking over at their group and laughing. Rowena flushed, watching the servants weaving in and out of the skaters, serving them their tea and hot chocolate. She supposed they did look like a bunch of pampered children instead of a group of adults who were perfectly capable of packing, serving, and eating their own food.

Her eyes narrowed as she spotted a redheaded man looking her way. It couldn’t be Jon, could it? Her heart pounded. Though she’d sent him a note thanking him for a lovely afternoon, she hadn’t heard back from him except for the nightly visits of his plane.

He was sitting on a rock and watching his companions skate. Every once in a while she heard him call out to his friends, and the sound of his voice sent her pulse racing. Without thinking, she set her half-eaten sandwich back on the silver salver, much to Andrew’s surprise.

“Sorry,” she muttered, before skating off. Halfway across the pond she almost changed her mind and turned back, but his companions had noticed her beeline across the ice and had correctly
surmised that she was headed for them. They came together as a group surrounding Jon, who looked more handsome than ever with the cold adding color into his high cheekbones and his unruly dark red hair all askew as if he’d just taken off a cap. A flickering of his eyes was the only surprise he showed as she approached.

She came to a careful stop in front of him and gave all the young men a nervous smile. As loud and unruly as they were before, they had lapsed into a group as bashful as choirboys, though they all looked to be in their midtwenties.

“Hello, Jonathon. How is your ankle?”

Four pairs of eyes widened at the use of Jonathon’s name and the others turned toward him accusingly. His cheeks grew even redder under their scrutiny. “It’s much better, thank you. Though not quite up to ice-skating standards, mind you.”

“And how do you know my rascally brother, miss?”

Startled, Rowena turned toward the young man who had spoken. Yes, there was a certain resemblance, especially about the eyes. He stared at her boldly and she raised her brows. “You might say he fell right into my lap,” she answered tartly.

Jonathon laughed and stood up carefully. He took her arm as if to claim ownership and Rowena blushed, rather liking the sensation. “Gentlemen, may I present to you one of the New Women. Don’t cross her, as she’s liable to take you down a notch or two with her very sharp and emancipated tongue.”

There was a guffaw among the men and Jonathon’s brother stepped forward.

The man’s eyes swept over her in appreciation, and Rowena was glad she’d dressed sensibly for the occasion. Instead of wearing fur as the other girls had, she had donned a slim-skirted,
blue-ribbed skating suit and matching cap and dark blue wool gloves and scarf. A sensible, no-nonsense dress, though trousers would be far more sensible for skating than a skirt could ever be.

“If this is the New Woman, I wonder why I ever bothered with the old ones,” Jon’s brother said. “And would this New Woman have a name?”

Jon tensed next to her and his grip on her arm tightened. “Actually, she does. George, may I present to you the Honorable Rowena Buxton? Rowena, this is my older brother, George. Don’t mind him, I got all the manners in the family.”

But the good humor of the party had fallen away with the mention of her name. If she thought Jon had reacted poorly to her last name, that was nothing compared to the chill emanating from his brother.

“A Buxton, eh, baby brother? Reaching a bit above yourself, aren’t you?”

Rowena winced, but Jon’s hand released her arm and then he pulled her close, his arm over her shoulders protectively. “You don’t even know her, and if you did, you would be ashamed of yourself. Come, Rowena, let’s go for a walk, shall we?”

Mutely, she nodded; they turned their backs on the group and walked away carefully, as she was on skates and he was wearing shoes and limping.

“I apologize for my brother. I’m afraid he can be a bit of a pill.”

She glanced at him, but he was staring straight ahead, his jawline set and his lips pressed together. “I take it there is no love lost between our families. Would you mind telling me why?”

He looked over at her, surprised. “You mean, you don’t know?”

She shook her head. “You have to remember, I was not
brought up here. I only came for the summers, and even then there were so many social events, we rarely spent time together as a family. So I was not really privy to anything that may have happened.”

He shook his head. “It probably never came up because your uncle treads on the lower classes as a regular thing. No doubt he didn’t spend more than five minutes thinking about it altogether. Only as much time as he needed to tell his army of solicitors what he wanted and how to get it. They did all the dirty work, while he went hunting or riding or whatever it is he does when not choking the life out of his tenants.”

She stopped, stricken by the bitterness in his voice. Part of her felt she should defend her uncle, but how could she defend him? Jon was probably right.

He saw her face and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. The Wellses become a bit overwrought on the topic of Conrad Buxton. But it really has nothing to do with you.”

His voice was uncertain as he added that last part and Rowena began moving again. “No, it does not,” she said firmly. “My father left Summerset for Oxford when he was nineteen and never looked back. If my uncle did something to hurt your family, I am very sorry.”

“Your apologies couldn’t possibly put a dent into the wrong that has been done, but I do thank you for the sentiment. You see, I hold your uncle responsible for my father’s death.”

Rowena gasped, placing one hand over her open mouth. They stopped moving and she turned toward him. Her skates added several inches to her height so that he was only an inch or so taller than she was. His eyes, so close to the color of the sky they had flown through together, seemed very close to her own, and
her pulse raced. “I’m so very sorry for your loss, but I don’t think my uncle . . .” Her voice stopped as he placed a gentle hand over her mouth.

“Listen before you make judgments. I don’t make these accusations lightly, but neither are they up for debate. Understood?”

She nodded and they continued moving, he walking and she gliding along next to him.

“The Wellses and the Buxtons had been friends for a very long time, since the War of the Roses, actually. A young page named Wells saved the life of the son from Summerset. Lord Summerset knighted him and gave him a large piece of his estate in reward. It was a prime piece of land and they made a good living from it. So even though I’m not of noble blood, I am considered gentry.” He gave her a wry smile, but Rowena couldn’t smile back. The pit of her stomach was in knots as she anticipated what she was going to hear about her family.

“Over time, the friendship between the two families waned a bit as the Buxtons amassed a fortune and the Wellses sat, happy and satisfied with their big stone home and the decent living the farm afforded them. They made enough money to give their sons and daughters a good start and they were always involved in the civic life of the town.”

“It sounds like a good life,” she ventured, but Jon was so caught up in his story, he didn’t even seem to hear her.

“My father was a bit of a dreamer and had more ambition than the Wellses who came before him, and he became convinced that there was a seam of coal near the old quarry. He must have had some reason for believing it was so, because he hired an expert to assay the property.”

“And they found coal?” Rowena knew without being told how the story would end. The only part that puzzled her was
how on earth her uncle could possibly be responsible for his father’s death.

“They found coal,” Jon agreed. “It wasn’t a great deal. Not nearly what they have in the north or in Wales, but it was of very good quality and enough to make a small fortune for the Wells family. Only the Wells family will never see the profit from that coal. In a classic Buxton maneuver, Lord Summerset brought up an old property line dispute, and of course the courts settled in your uncle’s favor.”

A cramp of misery settled between Rowena’s eyes. “I’m so sorry,” she said softly.

“That isn’t the worst of it,” he continued. Rowena wanted to put her hands over her ears to stop the words, but felt she ought to listen. “My father was so convinced that things had changed, that the courts couldn’t be bought by wealth and privilege, that he fought them. Hard. When it became more and more clear that he wouldn’t win, he grew bitter and angry and in the process emptied the family coffers of all our money. When it finally ended, we’d lost almost everything and barely had enough money to keep the property solvent. And of course, the Buxtons added more money to their already fat wallets while my family teetered on the edge of bankruptcy. When my father finally came to his senses and realized what he had done, he took a gun, walked out to the old stone quarry where the new coal mine was already in production, and shot himself in the head. And that, my dear Rowena, is why the Wellses can’t abide the Buxtons.”

Sometime during the last few minutes of his story they had stopped walking. Rowena’s legs were shaking as she tried to understand the horrible story she had just heard. And the sad truth was, he was probably right about her uncle. The business that had ruined a family probably sat on his desk for several days and
then had been dispatched with due speed and into the hands of the lawyers. “Get me that property,” her uncle had probably said, and the lawyers had done it. And it’s not as though the Buxtons needed the money. While other great families teetered on the edge of disaster, the Buxtons had a talent for making money, and each earl had added to instead of taking away from the family fortune.

Turning to him, she took his hands into hers. The calluses between his thumb and forefinger caught on the soft wool of her glove. She’d never felt that on a man’s hands before. She was sure her uncle had never had them, nor any of the young men who frolicked on the other side of the pond. “I’m sorry from the bottom of my heart that happened to your family. I can say nothing that can make up for any of it. Just know that I care that it happened and I am sorry. I do hope that what happened in the past won’t affect the friendship you and I have.”

Their faces were so close she could see little flecks of green in the blue. Just as she lost herself in the wide blue of the sky, she could lose herself in the blue of his eyes.

He smiled down at her. “Others have offered their sympathies, but nothing has ever soothed as much as those words coming from your lips. Thank you, Rowena. And no, let’s not let it affect our friendship.” His head bent and for a fraction of a second, his lips brushed across hers. It had only been for a moment, but her mouth missed the heat of his the second he withdrew. Startled, she pulled back and looked around. Victoria and Elaine were staring out across the pond toward her and she wondered whether they had seen. Had she really just been kissed? It was so quick, it was like it hadn’t happened at all, and yet her lips still tingled from the contact.

He laughed at her bewilderment and she pulled her hands
out of his. What on earth should she do now? She had just been kissed. In public. And she liked it. The teasing light of his eyes told her he suspected that she liked it.

“Would you like to fly with me again?” he asked as she pulled away.

She hesitated, her heart pounding. She should say no. After that little scene she should certainly say no. “Yes,” she said breathlessly, skating away. “Oh, yes.” And she went back to her party, his laughter ringing in her ears.

*   *   *

The sun was just setting and the last of the light, coupled with the light of the moon reflecting off the snow, made the unused portions of the house gleam strangely. Victoria smelled the fire even without the light shining through the open door. Part of her resented his entering her room without her, but that was silly. She knew he would be here. At the skating party today, he had told her he had been detained the last time and he wished to renew their rendezvous. For a moment she thought to tell him to go hang, just to see his reaction, but then she remembered what she had discovered about Prudence’s mother. She had a feeling that Kit, much like she, knew all sorts of things he wasn’t supposed to know. At any rate, he might be able to point her in the right direction.