The Dark Earl (27 page)

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Authors: Virginia Henley

Tags: #Romance, #Historical, #Fiction, #General

BOOK: The Dark Earl
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Next, Thomas cut two thick slices from a freshly baked loaf of wheaten bread, spread them with homemade butter, then picked up a wooden honeypot.
Harry’s eyes lit up. “Don’t tell me. . . . Shugborough has its own beehives.”
“How did you guess?” He set the ale and the bread before her and sat down across the table from her. “This calls for a toast.”
She picked up her mug. “I’ll give you an Irish toast:
Here’s to yous, and here’s to me,
And if someday we disagree,
Sod yous! Here’s to me.
”
 
Harry took a long swig, then licked the foam from her top lip.
For once, Thomas allowed his amusement to show.
“What? No reprimand for my audacity, Lord Anson?”
“Not today, Harry. I welcome your irreverence.”
The bread and honey tasted delicious, and she closed her eyes in ecstasy. When she swallowed the last morsel, she sighed with repletion and licked her fingers.
Before they left the kitchens, Harry saw a bucket of sand and asked its purpose.
“It’s in case of fire. I have a mortal dread of it.” He led the way and pointed out the servants’ quarters, then showed her the long gallery, the ballroom, reading rooms, sitting rooms, as well as a couple of guest suites with their private breakfast rooms and bathrooms. Many of the chambers were devoid of furniture, but the rooms he had restored were elegant and in exquisite taste.
Harry glanced from a window and saw the sun was much lower in the sky. “I hate to leave, but I must.”
I could stay here forever.
“Thank you for the lovely tour.”
“We have nine hundred acres out there to explore.”
“And I long to see every one of them, but it is impossible today,” she said wistfully.
“Come, I’ll ride out to the gate with you.”
When they got as far as the pillared portico, Harry stopped to admire the view. Formal terraces, framed by borders of lavender and roses, stretched out before her, filling her senses. “Shugborough is absolute perfection.”
“It will be, before I’m finished.”
Thomas lifted her into her saddle. He did not dare let his hands linger, or he would have swept her into his arms and carried her to his bed.
“You always ride a black hunter. What is this one’s name?”
“Nemesis. He is from the same mare as Victorious.”
“What a perfect name.
Nemesis
means a victorious rival!”
He mounted Nemesis, and they rode side by side along the river, where swans and other waterfowl made their home. “In spring, this riverside garden is a mass of daffodils.” They arrived at the wrought iron gates and silence stretched between them.
“What really happened between you and D’Arcy?” He searched her face with dark eyes. “He didn’t hurt you, did he, Harry?”
She saw the suppressed violence in his face.
“No, no,” she denied quickly. “It was his wealth. I couldn’t bear the thought of being supported by money that was earned on the back of Durham’s coal miners.”
“I’m glad that was the reason.” Their eyes met. “Now I don’t have to kill him.”
As Harry rode away, her heart was singing. It wasn’t only seeing Shugborough again that had made her happy; it was encountering Thomas. He was the most physically attractive male she had ever known, and he had made it clear he was still interested in wooing her.
When I return to London, I know he will call on me and try to take up where we left off. Is it possible that Thomas is in love with me?
Harry shivered with excitement.
He’ll have to give me proof before I accept his proposal of marriage.
Chapter Fourteen
 
“H
ome at last,” Lady Abercorn declared as she stepped down from the coach. “Barons Court is particularly inviting at sunset.”
The younger Hamilton children tumbled from the second coach and ran to the house, where nursemaids Meg and Molly stood at the front door awaiting their arrival.
Harry knew her father and young James would help the grooms unharness the horses and put them in the paddock behind the stables. She hung back and waited until Rachel and Jane had followed the children into the house. Then, alone, she stood in front of Barons Court, assessing the mansion with critical eyes. She gazed at the portico with its four sturdy columns and realized for the first time that these features reminded her of Shugborough.
But Barons Court doesn’t compare. Shugborough’s portico, with its eight soaring columns, is magnificent. The pavilions on either side are extremely graceful. The tasteful design gives Shugborough Hall a kind of elegance Barons Court will never have.
Suddenly Harry felt guilty for thinking their beloved Irish mansion inadequate.
I fell in love with Shugborough when I was a child, and it became my ideal. In my heart, no other house will ever be as beautiful.
She sighed deeply and entered Barons Court.
Sarah Kennedy, the head housekeeper, bobbed a curtsy. “Lady Harriet, welcome home. Yer chamber is plenished, and I’ll send the servants up with yer luggage the minute they fetch it in.”
Harry glanced about the oval rotunda. Centered beneath its glass dome was a polished table, holding a lead crystal vase filled with flowers. “Delphiniums are Mother’s favorite, Mrs. Kennedy.”
“I know all yer likes and dislikes, as well as all yer secrets.” Sarah winked. “I told Mrs. Pithers to prepare some oxtails especially for you.”
“Thank you. I love food that sticks to the ribs.”
Harry joined the rest of the family gathered in the great hall. Though it was August, a log was burning on the large open hearth to welcome them.
“Barons Court is exactly as I remember it,” Rachel said.
“Did you write Lord Butler, letting him know when you’d arrive?”
Rachel’s mouth curved in a smile. “I did. And your mother sent him an invitation to come and stay with us immediately.”
“Then I predict he’s already on his way. A guinea says he’ll be here tomorrow.” Harry corrected herself. “No, I’ve turned over a new leaf. I have decided that in the future I won’t gamble or make any more wagers.”
“That should be a relief to the stableboys,” her mother said dryly. “Rachel, let’s go up and decide on a bedchamber for you.”
Jane spoke up. “Rachel can have the room next to mine, now that Trixy won’t be using it.”
“Absolutely not,” her mother said. “I shall put Rachel in the guest wing, in one of the suites, and assign Captain Butler adjoining chambers. Courting couples need their privacy.”
Harry looked at Rachel and rolled her eyes suggestively.
 
 
“I can’t believe you beat me to the stables this morning,” young James declared.
Harry laughed. “I wolfed down my breakfast so I’d arrive before you.” She and James both had their own Arabian horses, and the stables were the first place they visited when they came to Barons Court.
James saw that his sister had almost finished saddling her horse. “If you’ll wait for me, Harry, I’ll ride out with you.”
“Hurry, then. I like to get out early so I’ll see the otters, and perhaps a fox or two.”
They left the stable side by side and headed toward the chain of lakes at a slow canter. “So, I take it that Will Montagu heads your list of suitors now that D’Arcy Lambton is out of the running.”
“Whatever makes you think that?” Harry asked.
“Well, the wager, of course. They were rivals for your hand. It’s no wonder Montagu was willing to take Lambton’s bet. He knew D’Arcy wouldn’t stand a chance with you.”
Harry’s brows drew together. “How did he know that?”
“Because Will knew he could make you a duchess someday. And what female would pass up a chance to become chatelaine of Dalkeith Palace?”
Harry was outraged. “You must think me a mercenary bitch, ready to sell myself to the highest bidder!”
“I don’t think that at all, Harry. The purpose of having a Season is to secure a wealthy, titled husband. What female would wed an earl if she had a chance to marry a future duke of the realm?”
“You arrogant young devil! Because you are a future duke of the realm, do you assume you can have any woman you want? If you believe you are God’s gift to women, you are deluding yourself. I want something far more precious than a title and wealth!”
“Whatever could that be?”
“
Love
, you idiot boy! Our parents have a happy, successful marriage because they are in love with each other. That’s what I want. I will settle for nothing less!”
“You turned D’Arcy down because you didn’t love him?”
“Exactly.”
No, not exactly. I was going to turn him down, but didn’t get the chance.
“So if Will Montagu declares his love, you will fall into his arms?”
“Absolutely not! I’ll have to be certain I love the man I marry, and I shall demand
proof
that a man loves me before I agree to marry him.”
James laughed. “Will you send your suitor on a mythological quest and set him an epic task to prove his undying love for you?”
“Credit me with some intelligence. I shall be able to discern whether a man truly loves me or not.” Harry touched her knees to her Arabian mare and raced away from her inquisitive brother.
Tomorrow I shall ride alone.
 
 
Riding lessons for her younger children were a priority for Lady Lu. They each had their own pony, and this year five-year-old Ronald and four-year-old Maud were provided with mounts. The duchess recruited Harry’s help and happily took on the role of teacher, as she had done with her older son and daughters.
Harry led Maud’s pony to the mounting block and showed her how to take a firm grip of the saddle to hoist herself to a sitting position. “That’s very good.”
“I want to ride astride like the boys,” Maud declared.
“It takes far more skill to ride sidesaddle. Father will think you an accomplished rider if you can master it. Now, grasp the reins firmly, hold your head high, and keep your back straight. I’ll lead you around the courtyard a couple of times, and then you can try it on your own.” Harry knew that it would take pride as well as determination for her little sister to handle a pony.
As Maud rode past her five-year-old brother, she raised her chin and said, “I can ride much better than you, Ronald.”
The duchess warned, “Pride goeth before a fall, Maud.”
“Oh, I shan’t fall, Mother. It takes far more skill to ride sidesaddle.”
“You and Harry are like two peas from the same disdainful pod. Let’s hope you are as skilled when you have your first swimming lesson this afternoon.”
“I shall swim like a swan,” Maud insisted.
Harry smiled.
Actually, Maud is the spitting image of Mother!
 
 
An hour after they finished lunch, Harry provided Rachel with one of her bathing dresses. In actuality, they were sleeveless shifts made from colored linen. As the two young women joined the rest of the family at the lake closest to the house, Harry gathered her courage and braced herself for the uproar her tattoo would cause.
Her mother glanced at her bare arms and remarked casually, “I wondered if you were ever going to reveal your pet snake to us, darling.”
“You knew about my tattoo?” Harry was amazed. “Didn’t it shock you?”
“I’ve learned to anticipate and accept your unconventional behavior, darling. I put it down to the Irish blood you inherited from your father. And, truth be told, a tattoo is far less eccentric than turning down a marriage proposal that would have made you the wealthiest countess in England.”
“I don’t think it eccentric to hold out for a husband who loves me. I warrant you would have refused to marry Father if he hadn’t been madly in love with you.”
Lady Lu smiled at her vivid memories. “Your father first proposed to me when he was about nine years old. I turned him down many times, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer. One thing is certain, however: I had proof that he loved me before I agreed to marry him.”
“What was your proof?” Harry asked avidly.
“That is our secret. And I am secure in the knowledge that Abercorn loves me enough to never reveal it.”
“Then I won’t pry,” Harry promised. “Every lady is entitled to her secrets.”
Her mother smiled. “And her eccentricities.”
 
 
The entire family spent the whole afternoon in the lake, and before the sun began to make its descent, Abercorn had successfully taught his younger children to swim and his older ones to dive to the bottom and retrieve heavy Indian clubs he tossed into the water.
They ate dinner in the great hall in front of the fire with their heads wrapped in towels, resembling nabobs from the Far East. After dinner, they helped themselves to nuts, figs, dates, and dried apricots, as they told stories of pixies, leprechauns, and Irish ghosts.

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