The Inheritance (17 page)

"I am most
curious. I hope you don't think me presumptuous, but you have the
manner and bearing of a young lady of society, yet you do not
partake in any of the galas or parties I'm sure you—"

"Because I
choose not to," she replied quickly, interrupting him before he
could finish his sentence.

"Ms
Covington," he began.

"Lydia. I
believe I informed you yesterday that I prefer to be called Lydia,"
she said testily, interrupting him yet again.

He stopped
walking and turned to face her. Taking both her hands in his own
and holding them firmly, he said, "Lydia. I find you most
enchanting, but if you interrupt me just once more I shall escort
you home and take my leave. Do you understand?"

His voice was
quite stern, and though not as stern as it could be, he felt it
stern enough to have made his point. As he watched her face turn
pink, he wasn't sure if she was about to turn on her heel and walk
briskly away or pull her hands from his grip and slap him. To his
delight and surprise she did neither.

"I apologize,"
she said quietly, holding his gaze.

"I accept your
apology," he said kindly, and returned them to their walk and their
former position, her arm looped through his.

"Without
meaning to pry, may I ask why you have chosen to isolate yourself?"
he asked, sincerely. "Surely you must get lonely."

She sighed,
and moved her head around as if taking in the view. He didn't push
and they continued their walk in silence.

"Because I
find the people of society petty and jealous. And vain. And
insincere," she suddenly blurted out. "I have seen what harm they
bring to others and I wish to have nothing whatsoever to do with
them. And yes, sometimes I am sad that I have no true friends here
but I have activities with which I busy myself," she finished with
a flourish and wave of her free hand.

It was an
unexpected revelation and he felt truly complimented by her
confession, convinced she did not share such things easily.

"I see," he
began, attempting to choose his words carefully. "Is it possible
that perhaps you are judging too harshly? Surely not all people of
society are as you describe. My sister is about your age and she is
not petty or jealous... although," he paused, "you may well have
said that until about a year ago. Now she is a very warm, most
sincere young woman."

"Really?"
Lydia asked, looking up at him, appearing to be genuinely
interested. "What happened? What caused such a change in her
temperament?"

James broke
into a broad grin, recalling the one and only time he had seen
Elizabeth soundly spanked.

"I shall say
only that she - hmmm, how do I put this - had an awakening of
character. An education of sorts."

"That sounds
mysterious."

"Perhaps one
day I shall tell you more. But you say you are able to distract
from your lack of company by your activities. May I ask what
activities they might be?"

"Certainly. I
paint. And I read a great deal. And I write poetry," she said, her
voice dropping with the last admission.

"You write
poetry?" he exclaimed.

"Yes, why do
you find that surprising," she said brusquely. "Is there some
reason you think I could not write poetry."

My goodness she is touchy. Must remember
that
.

"It is not
common that one finds such an interest or talent in a young woman.
Reading yes, though usually not a great deal. Painting, embroidery
I have known some who pursue those pastimes. But I have yet to meet
a young lady who writes poetry and I find it most impressive," he
finished, hoping he had calmed her insecurity.

"Oh, I see,"
she said, staring at the ground.

"Lydia, you
must not to jump to conclusions about me. Others may judge you but
I will not," he said firmly. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, James, I
understand," she said quietly.

Excellent - progress
.

"I would love
to hear your poetry. Is there one you might feel comfortable
reciting to me?" he asked, suddenly feeling that this was the most
extraordinary fifteen minutes he had ever spent with anyone.

"Well - I'm
not sure," she replied, sounding almost timid. The change in her
demeanour was quite stunning. The challenging, outspoken young
woman had virtually vanished.

"I promise I
will not be a harsh critic. I'm sure anything you have penned will
be quite remarkable," he said, reassuringly.

"I'm not sure
I would say that," she smiled, and he noticed her cheeks looked
rather flushed. "But there is one that may not offend too
terribly."

"Then please,
do share it with me. It will be our secret. I will repeat it to no
one unless you give me permission," he promised.

She sighed,
stopped walking, and lifted her eyes from the clover grass and
stared at him intensely, the bright blue of her eyes shimmering up
at him.

"I believe
you," she said, softly.

Quite taken
aback by her proclamation of trust, he stood silent, allowing her
time to gather her thoughts, and he believed, courage. She dropped
his arm and stepped away, casting her gaze across the verdant hills
rolling into the horizon, and softly, hesitatingly began.

Without pause
the sun offers heat

Without pause
my heart does beat

Without pause
as the sun doth shine

Without pause
will he ever be mine

Without pause
I wait in earnest for the day

Without pause
he will gallop my way

Without pause
I'll then surely know

Without pause
that our love will grow

Without pause
each day I must believe

Or without
pause, I shall endlessly grieve

She turned and
looked at him, and in her eyes was not the sadness he had seen when
he first entered the small parlour - but a question.

Overcome by
the genius of the simple rhyme and that she had dared to speak it
to him, he had difficulty finding words to express his
thoughts.

"Lydia..." he
stammered.

"It's all
right, you don't have to say anything," she blurted, interrupting
him, the pitch of her voice unusually high. Then added quickly,
"Oh! I'm sorry, I interrupted you again."

He walked
towards her, compelled by a force he did not recognize and could
not refuse, and stopping in front of her, stared down into her
bright, blue, anxious eyes that were as wide as he could possibly
imagine they could ever be, and placed his hands on either side of
her face. As he lowered his head he saw her eyelids flutter closed.
Tentatively touching his lips to hers, he felt her mouth accept and
ask for more. His hands dropped and his arms embraced her, and he
never, ever, wanted to let her go.

Over the next
few days James Barrett visited Lydia Covington as much as he was
able. She was not as forthcoming about her past as he had hoped so
the details of her background remained a mystery. He did ascertain,
however, that she had no lack of funds and it was she who was
supporting her aunt, not the other way around.

It was late in
the afternoon, the sun was setting and there was a slight chill in
the air. They were returning to her modest house from one of their
many walks when a gust of wind swept around them. She shivered,
having brought only a thin shawl for warmth. He removed his jacket
and placed it around her shoulders.

"Thank you,
James," she said, smiling up at him. "I think there might be a
change coming."

His eyes
scanned the sky and he nodded in agreement. "Yes. From the south it
looks like."

She fell quiet
and James could sense she was pondering.

"Is there
something the matter?" he asked.

"No. I was
just thinking it would be nice to walk with you somewhere I've not
been before. See something new. I fear I'm growing bored of this
place," she sighed.

"Not bored
with me I hope," James said quickly.

"My goodness
no," she replied, just as quickly. "I can't ever imagine being
bored with you."

He shook his
head. Her unashamed honesty never ceased to surprise him.

"I thank you
for saying so," he said. "And it is just as well it is me to whom
you say such a thing. You cannot speak so plainly to everyone."

"James it is
true I speak out of turn. It is just who I am," she admitted,
sighing with resignation. "I do my best to control it but am
helpless to do so. At least you know I am frighteningly honest and
do not know how to tell a lie."

"Well - that is a blessing I suppose," he commented.
And I will control that tongue of yours one day, I
promise you
, he silently added.

They reached
her house and he kissed her hand.

"I must start
off before the rain starts," he said, softly, wishing he could
sweep her into his arms, kiss her passionately, spank her lightly
and proceed to take her maidenhead on the floor of her parlour. His
cock, very aware of his decadent thoughts, stirred in his
trousers.

"Yes. It would
not be good to be caught in a storm," she said, wishing he would
come inside, kiss her passionately, scold her and promise to teach
her how to control her tongue, and take her maidenhead on the floor
of the parlour.

"I shall
return tomorrow if the weather permits," he promised. "And shall
determine how we may walk together somewhere new."

She smiled
happily. "God speed. Ride safe," she said, and handing him back his
jacket, stood in the doorway and watched him mount Pandora and trot
away.

When he
reached his home the weather was starting. A few drops of rain fell
upon him as he handed his mare to the new stable boy and ran to the
house. The housekeeper had already started the fires and he could
smell the delicious aroma of a roast emanating from the kitchen. He
wished he could bring Lydia for dinner, but it would have to
include her aunt regardless of what Lydia said. It wouldn't be
proper not to do so.

He moved
quickly to his chambers, washed and changed into something more
comfortable and headed downstairs to the study. He'd not been as
dedicated to business as he should have been, and decided he would
work both before dinner and through the evening to make up for it.
He settled behind the desk and spied the mail. There was nothing of
particular note until he saw a letter from his sister. It was
unusual for Elizabeth to write to him, and concerned there may be
something amiss he hurriedly opened the envelope.

Dearest
Brother,

I hope you are
well. I am doing better and am growing stronger and happier with
every day that passes. Having Constance with me has been such a
joy, and there are other horses here that are quite wonderful.
There's Zeus, who is a beautiful beast - a big stallion that I'm
just dying to ride. And Mindy, the sweetest, calmest mare you could
ever find that I used to ride when I visited here in the past.

Father and
Lord Michael have been meeting with Mr Denkins and Mr Forrester
every day, sorting through the various businesses that I now own.
It is still difficult to understand why Uncle Alfred thought to
leave them to me - a young woman with absolutely no idea what to do
with them all. But he did, and I know that father and Lord Michael
will know what to do.

While there is
much to keep me entertained here I am quite lonely. I miss my
friends and am thinking I might have a small gathering in the near
future so I may acquaint myself with my neighbours and the people
of the village. Perhaps I might rekindle some friendships from my
childhood. It would be so nice to have another girl with whom I
could share some of my days.

But mostly,
James, I want to apologize for having been so difficult in recent
months. I know I have not been as temperate and considerate as a
younger sister should be, especially to such a kind and caring
older brother as you.

When Mamma
died it was so hard on us all, even though it was an end to her
suffering. But I didn't consider your grief to the extent that I
should have. You have always been so kind to me, and even when you
have scolded me I know it was out of love.

I hope you
will forgive me and return to visit soon.

With love,

Elizabeth

James was
touched deeply by his sister's humble apology. Lord Michael had
clearly reformed her once again and he would forever be in the
man's debt. Reading the letter through a second time, a thought
occurred to him. Immediately picking up pen and paper he began to
write.

My Dear
Sister,

Thank you for
your most sincere and heartfelt letter. Of course I forgive you. I
understand that it is difficult indeed for a young woman to lose
her mother - and the time, as you so rightly stated, was difficult
for us all.

And yes,
sister dear, whenever I scold it is always for your own good. You
are my young sister and I must look out for you and protect you
should it be necessary.

I may have a
solution to your need of female companionship. I have made the
acquaintance of a delightful young lady here. Her name is Lydia
Covington. I believe you may have met her on occasion. She is a
most sincere and warm person, though somewhat outspoken, which I
think you will find as entertaining as I do. She lives with her
spinster aunt and is looking for a holiday. Might I suggest, if she
is willing, that I bring her with me when I return? I'm sure you
will become fast friends and enjoy each other's company
enormously.

I look forward
to hearing back as soon as you are able, so I may proceed and
extend the invitation.

With love,

James