Yorkshire (19 page)

I laughed. “You’re the first person to notice them.”

“They hold everything I need. You’ll be a great hit in London, you know.” He sat back. He must be more comfortable now the stitches had gone. I could only hope so.

I shook my head, troubled. “I don’t think so. No one noticed me in Exeter, next to Lizzie. Well, only one person.”

He opened his eyes more fully now, looked at me with that clear blue stare that missed nothing. “Who? That Drury fellow? I thought it a tryst. It dismayed me, but I didn’t think you entirely welcomed his presence, and from what you told me later I was right.”

I bit my lip. “I didn’t. I suppose I’ll have to tell you the whole.” I looked down to avoid his eyes. I’d been so foolish. I couldn’t bear the thought of Richard’s disapprobation, but I couldn’t let Steven hold me to ransom over it. Richard sat perfectly still. He let me take my time telling him, giving no clue how he would feel about the business.

I took a deep breath “I never took when I made my come-out. I don’t know how it happened. Perhaps I’m too tall, or blondes were all the rage that year.” I wouldn’t let him comment, desiring no sympathy. “The following year I was just part of the scenery. I wasn’t unhappy ever, I had a loving family and friends, but I just never took.” He made a sound, but I carried on, still not looking at him. “Then word got around about my sister, Elizabeth. She’s very beautiful, everything a young man could hope for, pretty, clever but not too clever, and amusing. No young man wanted me after that. I didn’t realise I was on the shelf until a couple of years ago. Martha’s remark about wanting an extension because the manor house was too small for all of us made me realise I was probably there for good.” I cleared my throat, remembering my unhappiness. It might be an old wound, but it still hurt.

“Then, the year after that, Steven Drury arrived; tall, handsome, and penniless. He had excellent manners, and he came from a good family, so he was made welcome. At first, he charmed everyone. Then someone told him about our fine relations, and this must have tipped the balance in our favour. He sought us out, and paid us a great deal of flattering attention. When Lizzie made it clear she had no interest in him, he concentrated on me.”

I stopped to take another sip of my wine, and Richard quietly came over and refilled my glass. Afterwards he sat and listened, his fingers curled around the stem of his own glass, his feet crossed before him. The pattern card of peaceful repose.

“I foolishly let myself think I loved Steven. Of course, I didn’t. Infatuation might be more like it or desperation, but it filled long hours and provided me with some excitement. Oh, I did nothing to be ashamed of, but accidental meetings in the village, which were not so accidental, little notes, foolish things, which I should really have got out of my system at sixteen. All this made me think I could be loved and wanted.”

“What made you realise what his true motives were?”

I frowned, and tried to think back, tried to be as honest as I could. “Nothing in particular. Just a gradual realisation. He never seemed interested in my personal problems—he’d never have listened to my nonsense as you’re listening now. And he asked me about my illustrious relations rather too much. When we received the invitation to come here, and my brother Ian hurt his foot—he should have been our other escort, you know—Steven quickly volunteered his services, even before he had asked permission from our vicar, his superior. He abandoned his duties without a second glance, although some people depended on him.”

I took a deep breath. I had never told anyone this much before, and I found it hard. I tried to think of him as someone else, anyone else so I wouldn’t falter in my confession. “I knew by the time we reached here I wished to break off my connection with him. To tell the truth, he irritated me with his solicitous attentions and attempts at lovemaking.”

I looked up, startled. I’d forgotten to whom I was speaking. I’d never told the full story to anyone like this, and now I had started, I found it such a relief to talk, I could almost be talking to myself.

Richard gave me no clue what he was thinking, his face serious. He gestured for me to continue.

“Now he’s waylaying me, asking me about the promises I made to him—”

“Did you make any promises?” he interrupted, his eyes intent on me.

“Never. I took care not to. He assumed I did, but I never promised him anything, I swear it. But I’m so worried he’ll make trouble. The prize is so much greater for him now, you see, and oh, I wish none of this had ever happened!” The dam within broke as my stupidity and unhappiness broke through. I twisted my fingers around the stem of my glass, and very nearly snapped it.

Richard looked startled at my last outburst, but since I had by then burst into tears, the least he could do was come across to comfort me. Without any hesitation at all he knelt before me and took me into his arms and I rid myself of a great deal of my anxiety in a long bout of crying. I hadn’t cried like that for years.

After a time, he lifted my chin and dried my tears with his own handkerchief. “Poor sweetheart. To be so distressed by your first fortune hunter. That’s all he is, my love, and easily disposed of. They crawl all over London in the Season. My sister’s been approached time out of mind, and these days she deals with them herself instead of asking us to help.”

I glanced at him through tear-blurred eyes, shyly. “You’re not disgusted with me? You don’t think I’m a hussy, or too forward?”

“No, why should I?” he said, laughing a little. “I’ve had my fair share of fortune hunters too. They come in female form as well, you know.”

“I feel so stupid, for allowing him to take me in.”

“Not at all.” He kissed me, very gently. “No wonder you doubted my approaches. To be taken in by a fortune hunter, and then to meet a libertine… Shall I let you into my secret? Yes?” I nodded. “Perhaps it’s my turn to confess.” He leant back on his haunches and took my hand. “I can’t deny I’ve known many women. I used to collect them like butterflies, and they had about as much meaning for me. Last year, about the time my brother returned from his travels, I realised I was bored with it all. There’s nothing in such encounters, nothing at all, except some amusement and a little experience. No real links, no communication, no fondness. Other vices have no appeal for me. I’ve never seen the appeal of gambling to excess, though, of course, I do play. Everyone plays, but I’ve never been too excited about the turn of a piece of pasteboard. So, that leaves my interest in my little problems—and you.” He looked directly at me. “I was ready for you, but I didn’t know it until I saw you.”

He’d made me smile again. Sharing my problem did seem to halve it, like the proverb says.

“Now.” He kissed the tip of my nose. “I want you to promise me you’ll go to your brother and ask him to give this curate a living.”

His solution startled me. “But that’s just what he wants.”

“Not in East Anglia. Or perhaps Northumberland might be better. Then you can send your would-be lover away happy, never see him again and keep him out of the way.”

I laughed shakily. “You make it seem so simple.”

“Nothing is simple when it worries you night and day.”

He stood and looked down at me. His amused expression changed to something that evoked a response I couldn’t remember experiencing before I met him. Warmth, intimacy and a connection that astounded me.

He watched me with such a heated expression I might have melted. “Every day—everything you say makes me want you more. I want to share my life with you, to have you for myself. I want everyone to know and love you as mine.” He pulled me to my feet and kissed me, not at all gently this time, exploring my mouth thoroughly, returning for more when I held him as tightly as he was holding me. Then he drew back.

“It occurs to me I’ve taken a lot for granted here. You must tell me truly.” He released me and left me to stand alone. His face grew colder, as though he cut himself off from me, and I remembered with a little shiver how coldly he behaved with Julia Cartwright. His self control chilled me, made me afraid of him until I recognised that this was his way of hiding his emotions.

“Do you want me in this way? I’m sure that when you appear in London you will undoubtedly take there. You have a grace and a poise which squires’ sons may not appreciate but which will be in great demand with many of my contemporaries. Believe me, Rose, you have no need to worry on that score.” He paused and looked at me to see if I understood. I did, but I still didn’t believe him. “When I tear up that wretched contract, will you receive me? May I, in short, pay my addresses to you? I want no scandal to touch you because of me, and I want you to choose me of your own free will, not because I’m pushing you into anything.”

I knew what I wanted, and I knew it for sure. “Oh yes please.”

He let his face relax again, and lost the cold look, took me in his arms once more, and kissed me, long and slow. “You may have caused chaos in my life, but chaos can never have been so welcome before.”

Chapter Thirteen

Martha kept her army of servants, and me, very busy for the next few days. The State Rooms were filled with the sounds of chatter, scrubbing and shouts of “mind your head” as great paintings and chandeliers were lowered for cleaning. We began to unlock the beauty under all that decay.

Richard came to watch, and would occasionally take a hand with the more delicate treasures. From time to time, he caught me looking at him, and the warmth would always be there for me. If Lizzie saw him, she deliberately walked across our line of vision to break the contact. I decided to hold on to what I had and take action to resolve other matters. I would take Richard’s advice and speak to James about Steven.

I found him in the little office he’d set up as his temporary base. While Martha attended to the house, he rode around the estate visiting the tenants and noted what needed doing. When I closed the door firmly behind me he looked up, smiling in welcome.

He picked up a paper. “I want to get the Dower House put in order. I want it for Lady Hareton to use as long as she wishes it. It’s her right, as the dowager countess, and it might give her a sanctuary against her dreadful father.”

“Rich—Lord Strang says he’s trying to blackmail you over the coach.” I hoped he wouldn’t notice the slip.

He didn’t seem to. “Yes, I know. I agree with him—the man’s a worm. Look at the way he’s treating his daughter.” His voice warmed with rising emotion. “He’ll not get a penny from me. I couldn’t trust him, so what’s the point?” He glanced at me. “If I thought this might affect you, or Martha or the others, if I could stop it by paying him, I’d give him everything he wanted.”

I was touched by his concern. “Oh James, I’m sure we’ll come about. What about his servant, that Ellis man?”

James grimaced. “Another worm. I don’t trust him, either. If Strang doesn’t discover the culprit, we must face it. There’ll be rumours, but it should be all right, in the long run.” We exchanged reassuring smiles.

James picked up another of the papers and made a scribbled note in the margin. A small pile of the ones he’d already dealt with lay on the corner of the desk, about the only order in that untidy little room. I sat in the chair on the other side of the large desk, its surface completely covered with more of the papers he was trying to make sense of. “His daughter has her rights, though he has none. I’ll give them to her. She will decide what to do with them. She has a jointure and the use of the Dower House until she dies or remarries. I’m afraid her dreadful father will get it all.”

“Might he move there and convert the villagers?”

James laughed. “He’ll not have much luck there.”

“Martha doesn’t want to turn her out of doors too soon. She’s trying to befriend her. Poor Lady Hareton is terribly upset, and her father is no use at all in comforting her.”

“I wish he would concentrate on comforting her, instead of pestering me,” said James, exasperated. “He came to see me again yesterday, says it’s his moral right to have the entail broken. He said Lord Hareton’s stated intentions on the night before he died amounted to a living will. I reminded him that it would be impossible to break the entail now. There aren’t enough signatories for it, and in any case, I didn’t consider myself bound in any way to follow the ravings of a poor unfortunate madman.”

I burst into laughter at James’s righteous indignation when I imagined the scene, but he had reached the end of his tether with the putative minister. “I’m tired of arguing with him. Every day the man visits me. He wants the riches transferred to him and to his ministry, hints he will go to the authorities if I don’t comply. Do you think I’d let him have a hold over me and my family?”

“No.”

“As if I haven’t enough to do.” He riffled his hand through the layers of papers on his desk.

I felt so sorry for Lady Hareton. Her father would, no doubt, make her give up her jointure to his cause. He might force her to marry another fanatic. I didn’t think her heart was in it any more, if it ever had been in the first place. From the few times I had noticed her glance at him when she thought it had gone unnoticed, I knew for sure she disliked him, maybe even hated him.

I put the thought aside and tried to broach my own problem. “I’m sorry to add to your troubles, my dear, but I must talk to you. Things are becoming a little uncomfortable for me here.”

He put the document down at once, and looked at me in surprise. “You, Rose? This must be serious. You don’t usually complain.”