The Lady's Second-Chance Suitor

by Scott, Regina

  “Of course. Nothing like a little subterfuge to whet the appetite.”

  “We can skip the part about your appetites,” she informed him.

  “No more than a few stolen kisses,” he assured her. “She was in all ways the epitome of a lady in my eyes. She could do no wrong, and she felt the same about me. We spent part of nearly every day together.”

  She sighed, face softening in the lamplight. “How wildly romantic.”

  Was that envy in his little sister’s voice?

  “I thought so at the time,” he said, “but I must caution you against attempting the feat. Someone always gets hurt.”

  Her face slumped. “Apparently Mrs. Todd.”

  “She must have been unmarried then,” he said. “But yes, I have no doubt my defection hurt her. That is the saddest part of the tale. When Father was ready to return to London, I rather blithely told my angel that I would be leaving the area, but thank you very kindly for making my summer bearable. I doubt she knew who I truly was until then.”

  “Oh, Rob.” She shook her head. “You’re right. It is a sad tale. You were reprehensible. At least you are trying to change.”

  The word trying stung, but he could not denounce the truth of it. He’d been born the coddled second son, with no expectations of greatness, no pressure to perform. He’d done what he’d liked, and money or charm had resolved most of the consequences.

  One tragic afternoon on the Thames, one vessel with everyone aboard lost, had changed all that. Now his sister, his tenants, and their family fortune depended on him doing the right thing, every time. He might have removed himself from the whirl of London, but a dozen duties awaited him at the Lodge on the headland even now.

  His father would have found him a sad trial, for the thoughts foremost in his mind were those of Hester Todd and how he could go about seeing her again.

  Chapter Two

  Hester finished the dance with Captain Cunningham from the encampment at West Creech and allowed him to lead her back to the wall. The dark-haired fellow looked as if he would have liked to linger, but she sat resolutely on the chair and smiled at her mother beside her. Face flanked by iron-grey curls, her mother raised her brows and regarded her as if she knew exactly what Hester was about. However, Hester’s gambit worked. After a few attempts at conversation, the officer bowed himself off.

  “That was almost rude,” her mother said, voice hinting of a scold.

  “That was as kind as I’m capable of being, at the moment,” Hester told her. “The heat is wearing me down. Would you be willing to leave earlier than we had planned?”

  Her mother’s mouth puckered. “Of course, dear. I’m glad we brought the carriage tonight. Let’s collect our wraps and go.”

  Hester only found a deep breath once they were seated in the coach and heading for Upper Grace, a short distance away.

  “That was quite the event,” her mother commented, patting down her skirts. “I don’t remember the Harvest Ball ever so well attended. Jesslyn must be pleased.”

  Hester managed a smile at the mention of her brother’s wife. “She should indeed. Everyone was there.”

  Everyone.

  She turned her face to the window so her mother couldn’t see her smile slipping. Why had he returned? What interest could their little villages possibly hold for him? And who was the pretty blonde at his side in the much-too-fine gown? Sweetheart? Wife?

  Why did she care?

  “Feeling any better?” her mother asked solicitously.

  “I’m sure being home will help,” Hester told her.

  But it didn’t. She couldn’t even lose herself in her daughter’s warm embrace. Rebecca was sound asleep, golden curls piled up around her face as she lay on her back in her bed, pink lips pursed open.

  “Do you think you will be well enough for the fair tomorrow?” her mother asked from where they stood in the doorway of the little room next to Hester’s.

  The Harvest Fair. She’d forgotten her promise to take her daughter to see the booths and animals. The busy event would be just what Rob preferred.

  “I fear not,” Hester said. “Perhaps you and Rebecca could go together.”

  Her mother’s lips tightened, but she nodded. “I suppose we must, under the circumstances.”

  For a moment, Hester’s stomach fell as surely as a flock of plovers diving over the Downs. Had her mother guessed? Did she know? But no, the dear lady kissed her cheek as she always did and bade her goodnight before retiring to her own rooms at the end of the corridor.

  Odd to feel so guilty after all this time. She’d thought she’d put that summer behind her. She shoved any lingering thoughts firmly away now and made her way to bed.

  Somehow, she slept. She was up early enough to dress Rebecca, then stood in the doorway to wave her daughter and mother away from the house as the carriage set out for Grace-by-the-Sea, where the fair was being held. Relief flooded her as she went back inside and shut the door, locking away the world just as she’d once locked away her hopes.

  The thought made her stiffen in the entry hall. Rob’s defection had sent her to her room for days. Her mother had even called the physician, thinking Hester was sickening. And she couldn’t tell either of them that what hurt the most was her heart.

  She would not allow him to ruin her life again.

  It was too late to call back the coach, and she hadn’t ridden in years. They had only coach horses now. She was stuck at home and alone, for even their cook, nursery maid, and upstairs maid had been given the morning off to attend the last day of the fair.

  Yet, like a shadow, Rob followed her from room to room. When she glanced out the window at the sunshine, she remembered how the rays had streaked his tawny hair with gold. When she finished sewing a lavender sachet, she remembered the spicy scent of his cologne when he’d bent closer for a kiss.

  She set down her sewing work with a sigh and gave in to the memories. What a pair they’d been that summer. She understood now that he’d been looking for fun, attempting to escape his family and the rules of Society. She’d been as willful. Seven years ago, she had just been considered out, and her uncle had been very strict about who she might see, which gentleman might claim her hand in a dance.

  “You’re a lady, Hester,” he’d say. “I’ll not have these fellows thinking otherwise.”

  She hadn’t understood the dangers he had feared. Ladies must be treated a certain way—with respect, deference. Other girls seemed to have more fun.

  Rosemary certainly did. Their uncle made no pretense of thinking her someone set on a shelf, too precious for conversation. He’d commissioned a special gown and boots for her so she could follow him all over the area in his search for ancient plants and animals. Rosemary might hike up her skirts and clamber down cliffs. She could spend hours in the sun without being scolded for forgetting her bonnet. Why must Hester only escape the house in the carriage for church?

  So, one day, she’d slipped out on her own. She’d told Rob she had climbed out her bedroom window, but that had been as much a fabrication as the name she’d given him. The truth was, her mother had been out shopping, her uncle and Rosemary at their studies. Hester had waited until the cook was busy in the pantry, then edged out the kitchen door and circled the block for the main street of the village.

  But of course, nearly everyone along that street knew her family. Even if she avoided her mother, the shopkeepers might remark on seeing her alone, with not even a maid in attendance. Head high, she’d strolled out along the Downs instead, relishing the sun and the breeze that hinted of the seashore only a mile away. She could walk to the shore. She could walk to the spa. She could go anywhere she wanted. The idea was heady.

  Voices behind her warned her she had company. Turning, she’d spotted a group of young men not far behind her. Like a pack of puppies, they seemed to be tumbling over each other, laughing, joking, teasing. Her mouth turned up just watching them.

  Until they all stopped and stared.

>   Right. Ladies weren’t found alone on the road. What must they think of her?

  Her cheeks were heating, but she turned her back on them and continued walking as if they meant nothing. The voices grew closer, until they were on her heels. She refused to speed her steps, though everything in her cried out to run, to escape.

  The first fellow passed her on the right with a respectful nod. “Ma’am.”

  Hester nodded in return.

  The second edged around her on the left. “Nice day for a walk.”

  Again she nodded, afraid her voice would come out in a squeak if she opened her mouth.

  Three more followed behind him, avoiding her gaze.

  The last walked up boldly beside her. “Care for some company?”

  Hester caught her breath, taking in the saucy grin, warm gaze, and lean physique. Why, he wasn’t even wearing a cravat! She could see the column of his throat between the wilting points of his shirt. She couldn’t seem to find her voice.

  The first fellow circled back and grabbed his arm. “Sorry, ma’am. He’s new to the area, but he meant no disrespect.” He tried to tug his friend away.

  Rob, being Rob, resisted. “Of course I meant no disrespect. What’s wrong with you, Hugh? The loveliest lass in all the land, and you won’t even allow me to say good day?”

  The loveliest lass in all the land. She wasn’t. But she would have liked to be.

  “Don’t make a fool of yourself, Charles,” his friend countered. “The lady’s far above our shoulders.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Rob said. He swept her a bow, arm held wide. “Rob Charles, at your service, my lady. And you would be?”

  Introducing himself was so impolite. Her mother would not approve. Her uncle would thunder. The other young men were glancing from him to her to see who would protest first.

  Hester held out her hand. “Miss Ascot, of the Weymouth Ascots, also recently arrived in the area.”

  His friend frowned. Like the other lads with him, he hadn’t met her, but perhaps he knew her uncle or had seen her in passing. She did her best to ignore him.

  Rob took her hand and pressed a kiss to the back. “Miss Ascot. You hold my heart in your palm.”

  My word.

  Her knees had wobbled, and her breath had caught anew, but she’d done her best to keep the haughty smile on her lips as she retrieved her trembling fingers.

  “You go on, fellows,” he’d said. “I’ll just accompany Miss Ascot on her stroll. I wouldn’t want her to come upon low company.”

  That set them all to laughing. With a wave, they’d bounded off for better game.

  And Rob had stayed at her side, that day and throughout most of the summer.

  Thinking back, she couldn’t believe she’d been so brazen. She’d found excuse after excuse to leave the house alone, usually after her uncle and Rosemary had gone collecting. She’d lied to her mother, bribed the maid at the time with pin money, made up stories of friends she must visit, urgent messages she must take to the vicar, anything that might give her a few moments with no chaperone.

  Even then, she’d felt a twinge of guilt for hiding her adventures from her family, but that’s what time with Rob had been. An adventure, stolen from the rest of her life. Something all her own, something she didn’t have to share with anyone.

  Only clever Rosemary had suspected. Hester could see it in her sister’s eyes when she had come home later than she’d planned and discovered Rosemary already in the bedchamber they had shared. But her sister hadn’t questioned her until the day Rob had left, and Hester had come home unable to stem her tears.

  Rosemary would understand now. All Hester had to do was make it to Sunday dinner, when she would have an opportunity to talk to her sister. Sunday morning was challenging enough. Her insides were quaking at church services, but neither Rob nor the lady who had been at his side at the ball showed up at St. Mary’s.

  Then she had to sit through Sunday dinner with her brother, Larkin, and Jesslyn without blurting out her concerns. But Rosemary, dear Rosemary, again divined something was wrong no matter how hard Hester tried to hide it. She drew Hester aside as they were preparing to return home.

  “Has something happened?” her sister asked, clear blue eyes searching Hester’s face. “Please tell me you are not worried about me.”

  “Of course I worry about you,” Hester said. “You are my sister. But you are right that something terrible has happened.” She glanced to where their mother was hugging Jesslyn goodbye, Rebecca at her side, then lowered her voice. “He’s back.”

  Rosemary’s brows went up until they nearly met the line of her warm brown hair. “Rob Peverell has returned? Are you certain?”

  Hester nodded. “I quite literally bumped into him at the ball on Friday. Oh, Rosemary! He attempted conversation, and I was horrid to him.”

  “As well you should be,” Rosemary encouraged. “He pretended to be something he was not, raised your expectations, then disappeared without a word. The fellow is a scoundrel.”

  Hester dropped her gaze, fingers tugging at her glove. “I am not without blame. I pretended to be someone else too, thinking it so romantic. What a fool.”

  Rosemary took both her hands. “You are no longer that fool. He cannot weasel his way back into your good graces.”

  Hester managed a feeble smile. “No, of course not.”

  Rosemary gave her hands a squeeze before releasing them. “The Peverells rarely leave their monstrosity of a house on the few occasions when they are in residence. You probably won’t have to face him again.”

  Now, why did some part of her find that thought disappointing?

  ~~~

  He must be mad that he kept thinking of ways to see Hester Todd again. The Harvest Fair was the logical choice. Saturday was the last half day. It was just the sort of place he enjoyed. But Elizabeth was blue-devilled, so Rob remained at the Lodge.

  Not that he found the Lodge particularly welcoming. An ancestor had originally built the house of brick imported to the area. Successive generations had added here, expanded there, until it was a sprawling complex with far too many wings and corners. Most rooms and corridors were paneled in dark wood, making the house seem even more like a labyrinth. And now Napoleon’s troops were massing just across the Channel, howling for a way across. Not the most congenial of places. Just the one with the fewest memories of his family.

  The paperwork his steward brought him that afternoon held memories enough. His father’s will left Rob every property—the house in London, the country house in Wiltshire, a hunting box in Scotland, and the Lodge between Grace-by-the-Sea and Upper Grace. All had staff. Some had tenant farmers working the land.

  Then there were the investments. He hadn’t realized his father had been such a visionary, or perhaps that had been the contribution of his older brother, Thomas, but Rob held stocks in companies that imported tea and silk, built bridges and roads, and constructed machines like a steam engine for transportation. Keeping everything on stable footing depended upon sound judgement.

  Something no one had ever praised in him.

  “Just one more signature today,” his steward, Percival Mercer, said, slipping a sheet of parchment in front of him as Rob sat at his father’s desk in the study. “This is the agreement to buy the land that runs from the Lodge down to Grace Cove. Your father would be very pleased you managed to wrest it from Howland after all these years.”

  Rob glanced up at him. Mercer was a dark-haired, sharp-nosed fellow with a manner far larger than his short stature and slender physique might attest. “And is Lord Howland pleased to have the land wrested away from him?” Rob asked.

  “Very,” Mercer assured him with a smug smile. “The Howland estate is in dire financial circumstances. The Peverell estate, I am pleased to say, is not.”

  Because of Mercer’s recommendations and his father’s wisdom. He was his father’s son. Surely some of the man’s abilities had passed down to him along with the responsibilities.<
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  He signed the deed, and Mercer snatched it off the desk as if concerned Rob would sully the page.

  “Are we finished?” Rob couldn’t help asking, gaze wandering to the window. The sun was beckoning.

  “Nearly,” Mercer said, tucking the paper into his black leather portfolio. “I have always looked on it as my duty to keep the viscount apprised of any information that might be of use.”

  For one ridiculous moment, he thought the man would tell him where to find Hester. He shook the thought away. Mercer had been his father’s steward seven years ago, but he and Rob had never spent any time together before his change in circumstance three months ago. He made himself lean back in the stiff leather desk chair.

  “And what information have you discovered now?” he asked as if the matter held no concern whatsoever.

  Mercer drew himself up. “I have been informed that someone has been docking at the Peverell pier below the Lodge. The ship arrives in the dark of the night and disappears by morning.”

  Rob raised a brow. “Dark of the moon? Smugglers then.”

  Mercer eyed him, then licked his flabby lips. “Then my lord has an aversion to smugglers.”

  Every syllable shouted his doubt. The fellow was right to question him. Once, Rob would have thought it great fun to encourage smugglers, perhaps even to travel with them on one of their illicit runs.

  “My lord has no interest in smugglers,” Rob agreed as firmly as possible. “James Howland is magistrate now. If we discover anything of use, we’ll inform him immediately.”

  Mercer nodded, though he did not look relieved. “A wise course, my lord. I’ll do my best not to trouble you further until next week.”

  He almost asked why, then remembered. Tomorrow was Sunday, a day he generally spent sleeping late after a night of frivolity. Now he must accompany Elizabeth to services.

  They had never attended St. Andrew’s in Grace-by-the-Sea with any regularity, so none of the dark box pews bore a brass plaque with the name of Peverell on it. Some part of him whispered he had no business in the little chapel. The Howlands had donated the silver cross on the steeple and the stained-glass windows on one side. They had their own pew near the front. Dressed in their Sunday best, the villagers filled the other pews, exchanging smiles with friends, family, and neighbors. The spa visitors also gathered near the front, gentlemen in fine wool, ladies in silk. Perfume wound through the air like incense.