The Mistress of Trevelyan (20 page)

As it was, I'd no one to blame but myself for the state of affairs between us, for not only had I invited him to kiss me again by my words yesterday, I'd invited a great deal more from him by my blatant fascination with his body. And to my shame, I wasn't the least bit sorry, nor was I going to leave Justin and Robert. They meant too much to me. But I did claim an illness, and had dinner in my room instead of facing Benedict over the dinner table.

C
HAPTER
E
LEVEN

The next morning, at the last possible moment, Benedict Trevelyan entered the music room where I waited with Justin, Robert, and the three auditioning teachers. He said a perfunctory good morning to everyone and ordered the auditioning to begin. He didn't look at me once.

As the third and last teacher auditioned, playing a moving assortment of Beethoven's masterpieces, I was tempted to step on Benedict's toes. The man acted as if nothing had happened. As if he'd not kissed me at all.

Not that I wanted him to act as if anything had changed between us, but I was hoping for some small indication that things were
different
. That I hadn't imagined the kiss, which I knew was impossible. My imagination was nowhere near that remarkable.

The audition ended, and Benedict chose the pianist who'd played Beethoven so well, then quit the room.

Last night I had opted to stay in my room, pleading an ailment because his kiss had left me so flushed. After his morning rudeness, I'd worked my outrage into a fine steamy feather by the time it came for Justin and Robert's riding lesson. How dare the man treat me as if I wasn't even there?

I marched into the stables with the boys beside me, promptly at two, prepared for battle. Benedict Trevelyan met us immediately with a startling half a horse. The top of its ears only came to about the middle of my stomach. A good amount of shaggy hair tufted between its ears, spread in waves down its neck, almost covering its body, and bunched at its feet and tail. It looked at us, its long-lashed, warm brown eyes curious.

The boys were completely fascinated, and I have to admit, I was a bit taken myself. "What is it?" I asked, the heat of my anger evaporating a little.

"This is a Shetland pony, and the horse Justin and Robert will begin their riding lessons on, Miss Lovell."

He handed the reins to Justin. "You can consider her an early birthday present. You will be turning eight in a few weeks, on the fourteenth, right?" Justin nodded, his eyes wide, as if he hadn't expected his father to remember his birthday. I made a mental note to do something special for Justin on that day.

"Why don't you and Robert walk her around the stable a bit? See if you can get her to tell you what her name is," Benedict said.

"Horses don't talk," Justin said grumpily, but it was clear he was very interested in the horse, and he took control of the reins without being asked twice.

"Sure they do," Benedict said. "You just have to know how to listen to their language. It is like talking to Aunt Katherine. So, I will leave it to you and Robert to tell me her name after you have learned to listen to her."

The boys, acting stiff with the big responsibility handed to them, began gingerly walking the pony. Benedict followed them, and I kept pace with him. I felt as if I needed to say something, but I didn't know where to begin.

"Mr. Trevelyan, I am sorry for the awkwardness—"

Gunnlod popped her head from the stall next to me, startling me. Benedict reached over and brushed his hand down her muzzle. "There's a good girl."

I gulped, feeling the nearness of his body, remembering the feel of him holding me against his heat, his hardness.

Still caressing Gunnlod, he spoke to me. "Miss Lovell. There is no need to apologize. We will just forget the incident ever happened. I am quite inured to the situation. My attentions made my wife frequently... ill, also. I am glad to see you are feeling better today. I will have the children brought to you in about an hour. Considering your aversions, I thank you for bringing them on time."

Before I could say a word, he left me for the boys, and although I was confused by his words, I had no real choice but to leave. At first I was stunned, but as I slowly walked back to the manor, I became incensed. Why, the man thought he knew everything, even what I myself felt!

I looked heavenward, searching for an answer to my exasperation, and froze in mid-step. The woman was back in the tower, standing in the window, looking out toward the bay. She lingered a moment and, I thought, even glanced my way before she disappeared into the shadows of the turret's interior. A ghost indeed! This time I wasn't going to let Dobbs say this was a figment of my imagination. I dashed into the house, determined to find the way to the tower.

A maid stood in the solarium. "Miss," I said, catching her attention. "Where are the stairs to the tallest tower?"

She looked at me as if I'd asked for the stairs to hell. "You don't want to go there, miss. It's cursed as the devil."

"I won't. I just want to know where they are located."

"At the top of the stair, miss. On the third floor. There's a door, but it's locked, miss."

"Thank you," I said, dashing off. I ran up the stairs faster than I had ever run in my life, determined to catch my ghost. Out of breath, flushed, and out of sorts, I made it to the third floor. To the left, opposite the way to my room, I found a door with an imposing padlock and no one about.

It was proving to be a most frustrating day. In the schoolroom an hour later, I awaited both the boys and Stephen Trevelyan, who'd promised to play a game of chess with Justin. I'd accomplished absolutely nothing since leaving the stables and seeing my ghost again, except perhaps a good amount of pacing. My dilemma with Benedict was uppermost in my mind.

I decided I'd been insulted. What exactly did he mean by "inured to the situation"? His attentions had made his wife ill? How so? To be sure, he'd made me swoon, but I'd quite liked the sensation. So how dare he decide I didn't? And however was I going to speak to him if he kept stomping away? I was in quite a state.

Stephen Trevelyan arrived before the children did.

"Ah, Miss Ann. You are a lovely sight for sore eyes."

I narrowed my eyes and gave him a healthy dose of my ire. "And you, sir, are a scoundrel. How can you tell someone you hope it's not too late and never enlighten them of what it may be too late for?" I set aside the book I'd been unable to read.

"Too late? When did I say that?" His brow furrowed.

"In the music room. After dinner?" I prompted, miffed that he couldn't even recall the incident. Apparently what it might be too late for wasn't all that important

To my surprise, his expression became oddly serious. "My apologies. I had no right to say that to you. In fact Benedict has called me to the carpet for airing our personal family matters before you. And he is quite right about it. You are here to teach Justin and Robert, not save the children from the sins of their family. I merely spoke of Justin's withdrawal, hoping it was not too late for him to go back to being the happy child that he was. When he was little, Cesca, his mother, taught him a game, and he never outgrew it. She called it 'making sunshine.' If you did not have a smile on your face when he saw you, he would not go away until you smiled. He did everything an imp could do to make you smile, especially with Dobbs. Poor Dobbs never had a moment's peace when Justin was making sunshine."

I laughed. I couldn't help myself when I pictured Dobbs being hounded to smile. Stephen Trevelyan laughed, too. He sat down on the seat next to mine; both of us oversize for the tiny chairs.

"You have a beautiful laugh, Miss Ann. It is like sunshine."

"All that warmth makes things rather cozy, doesn't it, Stephen?" Benedict's tone blew a chill into the room that went right over Justin and Robert's heads as they ran to me. I stood to greet them, distancing myself from Stephen Trevelyan.

"I see you have been eating sour apples again, Benedict. I was just telling Miss Ann how Justin made Dobbs miserable while making sunshine. Do you remember that, Justin?"

Justin shook his head no, but from the shadows moving into his eyes, I wondered if he was telling the truth. I hurt for him, thinking how drastically his mother's death had changed his life.

"Miss Wovell, the horsey tolded Jus her name."

"What, a talking horse? I daresay you are pulling my leg, Robert." Stephen acted as if an unseen person was jerking his leg.

"I am not. My hands are right here," Robert said, holding up his hands and stamping his foot. "And horses do talk. My father says so. You just have to know how to wisten."

"All right, then. What did the horse say his name is?"

"Cesca," Justin said with conviction. "Her name is Cesca."

The blood drained from Stephen Trevelyan's face. His gaze shot directly at Benedict. "How could—"

"Justin picked out the name. Alone." Benedict's eyes were like daggers.

Cesca. It was the name Stephen Trevelyan had just called Francesca. The chill in the room seeped into my blood, and I shivered. Stephen made nicknames for almost everyone. That he'd called Benedict's wife Cesca wasn't unusual, but the frigid look in Benedict's eyes said differently.

"I have had some unexpected business problems. I will be out of town until next week. So I will leave things here in your hands, Stephen. I see you have a cozy handle on them already." Nodding, Benedict spun on his heel and left.

Justin took three steps to the doorway, and I watched as his shoulders drooped.

Tears stung my eyes. I'd never uttered a curse, as best as I could recall, but several sharp ones hung on the edge of my tongue. They cut my insides as I swallowed them and put my arm around Justin's shoulders. He pulled away, as I expected.

Benedict Trevelyan needed to replace his sour apples with prunes.

Thirty minutes had passed by the time I'd settled Robert with a picture of the Cheshire cat to copy at a table near where Justin and his uncle were playing chess. Stopping by my room, I checked up on my appearance, then went looking for Benedict Trevelyan with a battle in mind.

A battle that would have to wait. He'd already left. That fact made me ache inside, as if I'd been shunned.

Instinct took me to the foyer, and I stood within the dancing colors of the stained glass windows, letting their beauty soothe my nerves and ease the twinges inside my heart. Soon the many wonderful hues made me smile; they emitted such a joyous picture, one of hope. I realized it at that moment, what it was that made the insides of Trevelyan Manor so dark. Why Benedict's eyes were so grimly black, and why Justin's heart was so painfully determined to be alone. It was the lack of hope.

I also thought that just as the inhabitants of Trevelyan Manor seemed blind to the beauty of its saving grace, the stained glass, they must be blind to the one thing that could give them hope back—love.

"Is there a problem, Miss Lovell?"

I didn't welcome Dobbs's intrusion. "No. I was actually just, uh, making sunshine to the suit of armor." I nodded to the stiff metal man in the corner. "Making sunshine is a popular pastime that I am considering teaching to Justin and Robert. Have you heard of it?"

Dobbs's jaw seesawed before he snapped his mouth closed. "I have not, nor do I care to. It does not sound as if you are teaching Justin and Robert anything of worth."

"Oh, I am. Smile," I said to him as I spun in a circle through the colored light. His frown was more dour than I could ever recall it being. I left the foyer, smiling.

The grandfather clock struck the midnight hour, and I rolled out of my bed, deciding I'd rather get a new book from the Trevelyan library than spend the rest of the night tossing and turning. I couldn't sleep.

My door, the schoolroom's door, and the children's door to the hall were all locked, and I'd set an alarm of sorts in front of the secret passageway's door. A chair with a basketful of blocks would crash over should anyone attempt to use it. The only door I couldn't safeguard was that of Maria. With her in the nurse's room, it was like living with the enemy at my back door; but it couldn't be helped, and I didn't think myself to be in any real danger anyway.

I'd locked everything just so that my intruder in the night, whoever that had been, would know I was aware of him—or her. So it wasn't fear that kept me awake. It was Benedict's kiss and the sensations that kiss's memory kept rampant in my body. I ached until I thought I'd go mad. And I wondered what I would do with my growing feelings for him, for there were too many distances between us, and not just the miles.

Now that I'd had time to reflect, I decided that it would be best to put Benedict's kiss behind me. To forget it for now and only pull it from my memories when, years from now, I could look back and reflect upon the moment that I'd known a man's passion. That's all our kiss could ever be. That's all I could let it be, no matter how I ached for more. If nothing else, I was a practical woman.

Pulling on my robe and sliding into my slippers, I gathered my lamp and locked the door to my room behind me, pocketing the key. I walked down the narrow hallway, listening to the house, which breathed like a sleeping beast with the little noises and groans that disturbed the eerie silence. I liked the house best when Justin and Robert were running through it, laughing, and when Benedict was home.

It didn't take me long to reach the foyer and its sleeping stained glass. I saw a faint glow coming from the library's doorway, only two doors down from Benedict Trevelyan's study. Anticipation seized me at the thought that he'd returned.

The light emitting from the library wasn't bright enough for someone to read by, and as I stepped inside the room, finding it empty, I decided someone had accidentally left the lamp on low. I sighed, needing to release the disappointment flooding me.

Setting down my lamp, I wandered to the shelves, perusing the books, marvelous leather-bound treasures with gold engravings along their spines. I ran my fingers across the titles, breathing deeply of the enriching musty smell that only a book can have, and smiled with pleasure.