“I saw you through the window.”
“You were supposed to be resting.”
She shifted her shoulders and Niall saw that she was not as calm as he’d supposed.
“I could not rest for long. But I knew Uncle Lionel would fret if I came down too soon, so I sat in the window seat on the landing and amused myself with watching the amblings of your men.” An echo of her teasing tone sounded in her voice. “You do realise the whole village will be wondering what in the world they are up to?”
It caused him a momentary irritation. “I had not thought of that. Well, it can’t be helped. Your safety is paramount.”
Colour washed her cheeks again and she looked away. “Thank you. You are very good.”
It was an embarrassed murmur and Niall could not prevent the words from leaving his lips. “Don’t look so conscious. Don’t you think you are deserving of such consideration?”
Her eyes met his, darkness in them. “When you have every reason to believe otherwise?”
Niall reached out and grasped one of her hands, holding it hard and leaning towards her. “I don’t care, Edith. I won’t importune you with question and suspicion. Even had I the right — and I wish I had! — I would not so burden you.”
She looked as if she would have spoken, but the sound of footsteps and a rattling tray made her snatch her hand away.
Niall pulled back, jumping to his feet as Mrs Tuffin entered the room.
“Here we go, Miss Ede, and I’ve brought in a plate of almond cheesecakes straight from the oven to eat along with your coffee. Good morning, my lord, and I hope you’ve brought a good appetite with you.”
Niall’s eyes met Edith’s dancing ones, and he had to exercise restraint to stop from bursting into laughter. Instead he addressed the housekeeper. “Thank you, Mrs Tuffin, and I’ll be delighted to sample your cheesecakes.”
He made way for her to set the tray down on the table behind the chaise longue and waited while she busied herself with pouring coffee and plying Edith with a plate of the cheesecakes. She pressed a plate upon Niall.
“You’ll take a couple, I hope, my lord?”
Niall thanked her suitably, placing two cheesecakes on his plate. But the moment Mrs Tuffin left the room, he set it aside, leaning in towards Edith again.
“I meant what I said.”
She was lifting her cup to her lips, but at this he saw her hand waver, the liquid inside in danger of spilling. On instinct, Niall reached out to support it, his fingers covering hers.
Her eyes met his, her colour fluctuating, the cup poised between them. The words leapt from his lips. “Marry me, Edith!”
Her expression changed and Niall became conscious of the uneven rhythm of his heartbeat as he recognised shock, then bewilderment.
“Have you run mad?”
“No.”
With care, he removed the cup from her now nerveless fingers, set it into its saucer and laid the whole aside on the tray. Aware that she watched his movements, Niall met her gaze, struggling to overcome the discomfort he had himself engendered.
He reached towards her hand again, but Edith pulled it away, curling her fingers into fists. Niall withdrew the gesture at once, sitting back as he recalled her sensitivity.
“Forgive me. I had not intended to say it. At least not right now.”
“Or at all.”
Her cheeks were taut and a spark at her eye warned him to be careful.
“Edith, it slipped out. I’ve not had time to think it through, for it only just occurred to me when your uncle went up to find you.”
A disbelieving laugh escaped her, but there was nothing of amusement in it. “Slipped out? Are you in the habit then of popping the question at random?”
“Of course not, don’t be ridiculous.”
“I’m ridiculous? What is it, Niall? A burst of chivalry?”
“Yes, in a way,” he said, goaded.
Her lip curled. “Ah, I see. You will marry me to keep me from Lord Kilshaw’s clutches? How magnanimous!”
Fury leapt into his chest. “It’s not magnanimous. It’s expedient, if you like. But it so happens I’ve fallen in love with you.”
Edith gasped and put a hand to her mouth, her eyes widening. She dropped the hand, looked away from him and back again.
He wished she would say something, even if it proved to be the rejection he expected. It was obvious she did not return his regard. He’d not meant to throw it at her in that fashion.
“I’ve shocked you. Would it surprise you to learn that I’ve shocked myself just as much?”
She gave a little laugh, and Niall was touched to see a sheen at her eyes. But her voice, though husky, held all the old teasing quality that had first attracted him.
“That will teach you to think before you speak.”
Reaching for her cup and saucer, he gave them to her. “Here. It might revive you enough to be able to consider my offer in a more maidenly fashion.”
She smiled, setting the saucer in her lap again. “Was I rude? Yes, I was.”
He watched her sip at the cup, evidently turning things over in her mind. Absently reaching for his own coffee, he took a sustaining draught of the hot black liquid and set the cup down to find Edith regarding him with a lurking twinkle.
“No one would suppose our discussion momentous, watching us both. I really think you ought to be indulging in some extravagant behaviour, Niall.”
He had to smile. “Extravagant behaviour is not in my repertoire, Ede. Do you think you might manage without?”
Her eyes warmed and her cheeks took on a delicate colour. “I believe you were speaking the truth.”
“Did you doubt me?”
“Frankly, yes.”
“You have reason enough.” He eyed her. “What did I say to convince you?”
Her smile was balm. “You called me Ede.”
He thought back. “Did I?”
“If you don’t remember that makes it more convincing.”
That she believed him sincere was a step forward, but it did not assuage his discomfort.
“You haven’t answered me.”
At once she exhibited consternation, fidgeting with her cup, moving it in the saucer. She looked up. “Niall, I don’t know.”
He winced inwardly. “I would not hurry you in other circumstances.”
Her brows rose. “You can hardly hurry me now. Even if I agreed, you can’t marry me out of hand, you know.”
“But you’re of age, Edith.”
“The banns must still be read for the requisite three weeks. Unless you applied for a licence.” The tease appeared in her eyes again. “Or did you have it in mind to carry me off to Gretna?”
He had to laugh. “Better me than Kilshaw.”
Her face clouded and Niall regretted having brought up the name. Her voice grated when she spoke.
“He has no thought of Gretna Green, or any other legitimate joining.”
Impatience rode Niall. “Which is just why I am importuning you in this way, Edith. It’s scarcely necessary in any event that we are married right away. A betrothal would give me ammunition enough to warn Kilshaw off.”
“He would not believe you. He would think it a ruse. Which of course it is.”
“No, it isn’t. I wish very much to make you my wife.”
“Oh, Niall!” Edith set the coffee aside on the tray and turned towards him. “I am truly touched, honoured even, but it won’t do.”
Hurt entered his breast. “Why won’t it do? I can think of only one reason — that you don’t care for me.”
She shook her head and his heart sank. “It’s not by any means the only reason. Be honest, Niall. If his lordship had not come here to plague me, would it even have entered your head to offer for me? No, of course it would not.”
“You can’t know that. I was attracted to you from the first. I did not show it once I saw how you shied away.”
Her eyes flared. “You know why I did so!”
“I’m not
blaming you.”
Her fingers curled into fists again and Niall realised how her nerves were rubbed despite the apparent cool demeanour. Her tone was low.
“Niall, I am not fit for you.”
“Don’t you think I might be the judge of that?”
“No!”
Her bosom lifted and fell again. Dear Lord, what a tumult of emotion was there! His heart bled for her.
“Edith —”
“Please leave this, Niall. I cannot answer you. Not now. Not while the exigencies of my situation must influence a decision. Must, I am persuaded, have influenced you to speak at all.” He opened his mouth to refute this, but she threw up a hand. “Don’t! I beg of you, Niall, don’t tempt me to take a step I can’t be certain is right.”
He seized on this. “Then you are tempted?”
She gave a strangled laugh. “Can you doubt it?” But that was no guarantee of her returning his love. “If Lord Kilshaw can be defeated,” she continued, “persuaded to let me alone … or if I can escape him, then let us think of this again.”
Niall hesitated, pulled to give in, despite the fact it suited with his need to keep her safe, as well as his desire for her. “You allow me to hope then.”
“I could not stop you, could I?”
“True. Very well, Miss Westacott. We will play the game your way.”
Her smile was wry and she gestured to the tray. “You had better indulge Mrs Tuffin if you don’t wish to come under censure.”
The distant manner chilled Niall. He took up the coffee, which had cooled, and nibbled a cheesecake, consoling himself with the reflection that Edith had not, in so many words, refused him. Could he at least conclude she was not altogether indifferent?
Chapter Fourteen
Far from indifferent, Edith sat with a secret tumult in her bosom while she schooled her lips to talk of indifferent things.
“Tell me how your improvements are progressing.”
She saw his frown and wondered how she had ever thought his features unattractive. His was a mobile countenance, showing every nuance of change in his thoughts, and the splash of unruly auburn hair called to her fingers to caress and comb it through.
“How did you know I am putting in improvements?”
She could not help the smile. If she followed her inclination she would beam at him, allow her eyes to rove the strong contours of his vibrant features, aglow with life and vigour.
“All the world knows it,” she told him, looking instead into the dark brown liquid in her cup which he’d topped up for her.
“Ah. Eddows told me village life is rife with curiosity.”
“And you are a curiosity indeed.”
The look of faint query, a little mistrustful, appeared in his eyes, as if he was not altogether certain whether to take her seriously.
“How so?”
“A stranger in our midst, a soldier too, complete with battle honours.” She gestured at the scar which her fingers itched to stroke and Niall’s hand went up, running briefly across it in a conscious way Edith found endearing. “How could it be otherwise? You must be an object of interest as the new lord of the district, of course, but as one quite unknown you represented food for a good deal of speculation.”
“Not, I assure you, by any wish of mine.”
Her compassion stirred, Edith with difficulty refrained from reaching out to him. “It must be galling to you to be obliged to tend the mundane matters of an estate rather than to plan your next battle.”
“I am growing more used to it. There is certainly enough to do to keep me from brooding.”
“Tell me.”
With an odd look, as if he wondered why she chose the subject, he embarked upon a catalogue of needed repairs and plans put forward by his agent. Edith listened with half an ear, putting in appropriate noises just to keep him talking that she might watch him without seeming to do so. He was close enough for her to drink in the indefinable masculine aroma, so different from the perfumed overlay of that other creature. There was the inevitable horse smell too, stronger when he’d first arrived, but faded now enough to admit the subtle manly scent she now recognised to be associated in her remembrance wholly with Niall.
The shock of his proposal was dissipating, but perturbation remained. She was distraught at being obliged to refuse him, elated at his declaration of love for her, dismayed to think he had still a doubt of her purity though he swore he would not regard it. That Edith could not believe.
He might say so now, in the heat of his discovery of his feelings. Had he not said he had shocked himself? But when he’d had time to reflect, to reason with himself, the doubt was bound to creep back. He said he did not care, but he did. Oh, he did. She’d seen it on the day he met her Nemesis. God knows what the fiend had said! But enough to condemn her, that she could swear to.
“The devil of it is there is no money to do these things. We are still waiting for probate.”
Edith came to herself with a start, staring at him. He reddened.
“It sounds absurd to be talking of a lack of funds when one is master of so much property, but so it is.”
Pulling her mind into gear, Edith made haste to disclaim. “You are by no means the first peer to find his coffers empty.”
“That’s the bugbear. They are far from empty, but I can’t access them until the lawyers arrive at a settlement.”
“Frustrating indeed.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “But nothing like as frustrating as it is to me to sit here pretending to talk to you as if I am nothing more than a casual visitor.”
Warmth flooded into Edith’s face and bosom and she took refuge in her coffee cup, sucking up the liquid so rapidly that she choked and fell into a fit of coughing.
“What the devil?”
The cup and saucer was taken from her fingers and a rough hand administered a judicious series of light slaps to her back until the coughing subsided. Edith wiped at her mouth, glancing at Niall who had taken a seat on the chaise longue beside her.
“Thank you, my knight errant.” She managed a faint laugh. “I cannot seem to do the least little thing without requiring your assistance.”
He grinned, turning his mouth lopsided. An oddity she found tantalising, adding to his charm. Was that his greatest asset? A charm of which he was wholly unaware? It contrasted so completely with the false air of charm that characterised Lord Kilshaw that Edith’s heart lurched.
Niall’s murmur took her unawares. “I could wish you might require me for everything in your life.”
She caught her breath, trying for a light note over the flurry of her pulse. “That could prove a deal more problematical than you imagine.”
His lips twitched. “You forget, Ede. I’m a soldier. I should rise to the challenge.”
She delighted in his ability to match her wit. It was the first thing in him that had begun the erosion of her barriers. How he had managed to bring them down so thoroughly Edith would never know.
The reminder of her state of mind served to bring back the uncertainty, and she could not but be relieved to hear the opening of the front door and her uncle’s step in the hall. Niall rose at once, clearly not wishing to be discovered in such close proximity. With matters in a state of disarray between them, it was just as well.
The vicar came hurriedly in, talking almost before he was properly in the room. “My dear Ede, if this distressing business had not put it out of my mind.”
“Put what out, Uncle?”
“The Lammas Day feast, my dear. Such a to-do we must expect, and there is bound to be a scramble between our fellows and those of Long Itchington. And this year it is our turn to host the festivities.”
Niall was looking as bewildered as Edith felt, and she was glad he put the question.
“What festivity is this, sir?”
He removed his eyeglasses, waving them as an accompaniment to his words. “It comes round every summer, my dear sir, and every year I am tempted to refuse to allow it. Onl
y it provides a good deal of entertainment for the locals and it is a rare holiday for them after all.”
Enlightenment dawned on Edith. “Oh, you mean the fair on the green. Heavens, it’s been so long since I attended one I had forgot all about it. Well, you must certainly attend, Lord Hetherington. It is quite in your line.”
Niall’s questioning eyes were on her. “But what is it?”
“It is the annual excuse for a battle between the rival neighbouring villagers.”
“Ah, yes, I remember Tom telling me something of that.”
Her uncle was amused. “Did he do so, my lord? I believe he has joined in on occasion. But I doubt he’ll be back in time this year.”
“Which leaves you, sir, to take the role of judge and referee,” said Edith with relish.
He eyed her askance. “Does it indeed?”
“Yes, and you cannot refuse, you know, or your popularity will take a dive.”
“Since I have no popularity as yet, I hardly think that will trouble me.”
“Oh, but you are mistaken, my lord,” her uncle chimed in. “I have been privileged to hear only murmurs of approval. Your interest in the needs of your tenants is much appreciated.”
Edith was charmed to see Niall flush. He was not a man given to flaunting his consequence, unlike Kilshaw. The remembrance caused a slicing shaft inside her and her spirits dropped. For this short time, a precious interlude, she’d almost forgotten.
Her uncle’s voice penetrated her absorption, and she realised he was giving Niall a more reasoned description of the proceedings he might expect at the Lammas Fair.
Edith’s brief moment of anticipation was over. If Kilshaw’s purpose prevailed, she would be far beyond any hope of attending.
Chapter Fifteen
Contrary to Edith’s fear and expectation, several days passed with no sign of Lord Kilshaw. She had kept to the house, unwilling to go beyond the back garden where she could see one of Niall’s guards patrolling the lane that ran alongside the low wall separating the vicarage from the green and that led towards Tazewell Manor. The days were warm although the sun was often markedly absent, intermittent dank clouds producing drizzle and an occasional sharp shower.
Knight For A Lady (Brides By Chance Regency Adventures Book 3) Page 12
