Much like the mine in St. Austell.
He shook his head. Maybe the Cornish air was unhealthy for his mind, for he certainly wasn’t thinking clearly. From the moment he left London, he had been acting rather peculiar. Not only had he allowed Nelson to talk him into leaving the comforts — and delights — to be had in the city, now he was actually considering taking on that rundown mine and turning it around for profit, assuming Elliot was right and there was actually something to be had.
He supposed time would tell, for before they had left St. Austell the day before, they had put things into motion. It had been relatively easy to find a group of men willing to start excavating the remains to see if there was any point in trying to bring it back to life. Until then, he would have to bide his time. With any luck, by the time the ball was over, he would be on his way back to London.
And back to normal.
Where a certain pair of dark eyes wouldn’t be able to tempt him.
***
Fanny returned home late that afternoon. The market had been rather slow, so she returned with most of her wares. At least tomorrow was Sunday, so she had a day off in which to catch up on some sewing that needed to be finished. Unlike Agnes, who required the newest and best of everything life had to offer, Fanny was content with mending that which she already had. She knew most of the people of this village, so what reason did she have to impress anyone?
Unfortunately, her thoughts turned to Lord Castleford once again, as well as those mesmerizing green eyes. But she firmly reminded herself that she was much too sensible to be interested in the likes of a bored aristocrat who was only here to flirt and find a bit of amusement.
“Ah, Fanny, there you are my dear girl.”
Fanny shook off her musings, and her face relaxed into an easy smile as her father set aside the paper he’d been reading. She walked across the modest living area and kissed her father on his weathered cheek. Even though he had already cleaned up, he always had the faint smell of the salty sea air. She suspected that it would always be so for a fisherman who spent his days on the water. “How was the catch today, Papa?”
“Prosperous,” he said with a grin. “But tell me more about this ball Sir Marwood is holding. It seems the only thing your sister can speak of, yet she claims you don’t wish to attend.”
Fanny sank into a chair across from him with a sigh. “You know how uncoordinated I am. I don’t wish to make a fool of myself by tripping over my own feet and falling face first in the middle of the entire village. Besides,” she shrugged. “I never have been the type of person to take part in such frivolities.”
He chuckled. “I don’t recall you being so clumsy, my dear. But even so, Agnes tells me that Lord Castleford offered to teach you a few steps, and yet you declined his assistance.”
“I did,” Fanny admitted reluctantly.
“Perhaps you should reconsider.” Her father folded his hands over his midsection and glanced at her steadily. “You do know the true reason behind this farce, do you not?”
Fanny nodded. “A shipment is due to arrive at Talland Bay that night.”
“Indeed,” her father concurred. “So you see, if you do not attend this ball, then the chances we could be discovered are heightened. We need this distraction.” His face softened even further. “You know that the revenue officers are causing more trouble on the coast, especially that blasted lieutenant, Robert Linneman.” He practically spat the name. “Rest assured, once this delivery is made, I promise that my smuggling days are at an end. Times are changing. England is increasing their patrol every day. The risks are too great to be in such a dangerous trade any longer.”
Just the thought of her father being arrested caused Fanny’s chest to ache, but still she hesitated. “What will we do to make ends meet?”
“I shall find a way,” he reassured her. “I always have. Agnes just might not get as many new ribbons as she would like.”
He winked at her, but Fanny wasn’t reassured. “But what about the market? If I don’t take the cart every day, that will surely injure our coffers.”
“Your mother has already sent word to Devonshire to your aunt and uncle. Your sister, Lilah, should be returning in a couple days to fill in.” He patted her hand. “All you have to do now is accept Lord Castleford’s generous offer.”
Fanny wavered. While she knew it would be the perfect distraction for Lord Castleford, she was more worried about her distraction with him. “I’m not sure he’s entirely honorable,” she hedged.
“I trust you,” her father returned. “You’ve always had a good head on your shoulders, and it’s not as if you won’t be properly chaperoned at Killigarth Manor. Besides, it’s only temporary, a fortnight at most. It’s not as if you will be forming an attachment in such a short time.”
Fanny wasn’t so sure about that, although she replied like any other obedient daughter should. “Very well, Papa.”
Chapter Four
Jonathan paced the front parlor of Killigarth Manor. He stopped only long enough to look out the window when he thought he heard something before continuing his trek back and forth across the carpet.
“You’re going to wear a path in the middle of the room if you keep this up,” Elliot drawled from where he lounged on the settee.
Jonathan shot him a glare. “You don’t have to remain.”
His friend lifted a brow. “Now what kind of host would I be if I didn’t properly greet Miss Grouseman when she arrives?”
“The kind of host that wants to stay and see me squirm in discomfort,” Jonathan nearly growled.
“Well, that is a bonus, I must agree,” Elliot’s mouth was curved upward at the corners. He shook his head. “I still don’t see why you’re so anxious. I thought you were just giving her a few dance lessons. That shouldn’t be too difficult, even for you. It’s not as if you are in danger of forming any sort of lasting attachment.”
Jonathan barely refrained from snorting. Elliot had no idea that whenever he thought of holding Fanny in his arms, he felt as if his cravat was tied a bit too tight.
He stopped pacing long enough to set his hands on his hips and rotate his neck. Unfortunately, as Fanny was an innocent, village girl and not some doxie that he might dally with in London, he couldn’t purge himself of this sudden, and rather perplexing infatuation that he’d developed. The slightest misstep would see him marched to the parson’s door if he wasn’t careful.
He couldn’t help wonder, and not for the first time, if the fates weren’t having a laugh at his expense. He pictured the fortune teller from the camp and shook his head as he imagined a smirk upon her mouth, laughter radiating out of her gray-blue eyes.
The knocker sounded at the front door, and Elliot stood. “Ah. I do believe our guest has arrived.” He turned to Jonathan with a mocking twist of his lips. “You might try to appear as though you aren’t about to carry out a death sentence.”
Jonathan attempted a smile, but he had to imagine that when Miss Grouseman walked in the room, it resembled a grimace more than a welcoming grin.
***
It was the first time Fanny had been inside Sir Marwood’s two-story home. As she handed her outerwear to the butler, she glanced around and had to admit that Killigarth Manor was as impressive on the inside as it was on the exterior with its granite-mullioned windows, arched doorways, and massive chimneys. Originally built in the latter part of the Seventeenth Century, she had been surprised to find that it even boasted a bell tower.
But it wasn’t the architecture that caused the butterflies in her stomach to return as she walked into the spacious parlor. She acknowledged Sir Marwood first, offering him a genuine smile, but the easy greeting always came naturally whenever she saw him. He was a kind man who had done a lot for their modest hamlet. But while Elliot was an attractive man, he had never made her heart flutter like it did the instant she turned her gaze on Lord Castleford.
She offered a brief curtsy and murmured a slight greeting. After he did th
e same, they fell into a rather awkward silence, both of them eyeing the other with a careful intelligence, and perhaps even a spark of interest. Fanny felt her body betray her again as her breathing deepened.
“I’ve enlisted the aid of my housekeeper, Mrs. Thomas, to play the pianoforte for you,” Sir Marwood announced.
Fanny nearly jumped, as she gave a slight nod. She had nearly forgotten that he was still in the room.
Their host glanced between the two of them before he excused himself with a brief clearing of his throat. “I’ll leave you to it then.”
Fanny bit her lip anxiously as she watched him go. It wasn’t as if she was afraid to be alone with Lord Castleford, but rather of herself when she was around him. As the tension grew, she shifted on her feet and glanced everywhere but directly at him.
“Shall we—”
“I suppose we—”
They broke off at the same time. She laughed as she finally dared to look at him. In reply, a charming dimple appeared in the side of his left cheek.
He waved a hand. “Please, continue.”
She threaded her fingers in front of her somewhat self-consciously. “I was merely suggesting that perhaps we should get started with the lessons?”
“Splendid idea.” He walked over and held out an arm to her. “It is what brought you here, is it not?”
“Indeed.” She placed her hand through his crooked elbow — and that was where her amusement vanished. The muscles in his arm instantly bunched beneath her fingertips, and she had a brief vision of Lord Castleford without his shirt, where those forearms were bared, perhaps even wrapped around her—
She shook her head. That was a dangerous path to follow. Besides, he was a worldly man used to the comforts — and delights — of the city. He wouldn’t be attracted to a country mouse like her. And of course, she reminded herself, that was how it should remain. She knew he didn’t care for Cornwall, and she had no place in the city. She wouldn’t even know where to begin, having lived in Polperro her entire life.
Her only purpose in being here was to keep Lord Castleford oblivious, so that was what she would do.
But as he led her toward the second floor, Fanny found herself taking note of Lord Castleford’s height. She’d never realized how tall he was until now, the top of her head likely only brushing the tip of his chin. He was dressed in the first stare of fashion in a pristine, white cravat with a bottle green waistcoat and jacket, paired with black breeches and boots. Fanny glanced down at her simple, brown dress and suddenly felt like a scullery maid next to a distinguished prince.
It shouldn’t matter, but the comparison was not very comforting nonetheless.
Mrs. Thomas had yet to arrive when they entered the ballroom, giving Fanny a moment to appreciate the grandeur around her. A row of sparkling windows shone upon the black and white swirled marble floor beneath them. The ceiling was brilliant white with a carved medallion above the crystal chandelier. She could easily picture what this room might look like when it was filled with ladies and gentlemen dressed in their finest and twirling across the expanse.
“It’s rather extraordinary, isn’t it?”
Lord Castleford’s compliment took Fanny by surprise. “I’m sure you’re used to more extravagances than this in London.”
He put his hands in his pockets and looked at her with that intense stare. “It’s true that London has its allure, but the city doesn’t hold every delight to be had,” he murmured.
Fanny’s lungs froze, for it sounded as though he wasn’t just speaking of the room.
“I’m sorry to keep you waiting.” Mrs. Thomas entered with a flurry of jangling keys and a hasty pace. “What would you like to start with, my lord?”
Lord Castleford turned from Fanny and suddenly she could breathe again. He suggested a simple country reel.
Or rather, what he might have considered relatively easy by his standards.
For Fanny, the result was a bit different.
As Mrs. Thomas began to play a lively tune, Fanny began the dance by spinning the wrong way. When Lord Castleford tried to lead her, she managed to step on his foot. It didn’t take long to realize that while he might be a strong partner, it was nearly impossible to teach someone who had little to no rhythm.
As the dance came to a close, Fanny winced. “I’m sorry, but I did try to warn you.”
“It’s fine,” he said with a slight grimace. “I’m sure it will only take a few days for the feeling in my feet to return.”
Fanny’s jaw went slack. While she hadn’t been expecting him to shower her with false flattery, he might have at least been a bit more considerate toward her inadequacy. “We weren’t all born into privilege, my lord, with the advantages of a skilled instructor.”
“I’m not sure even those circumstances could have helped your cause, Miss Grouseman,” he returned dryly.
Fanny’s mouth fell open completely. The audacity of the man!
“Perhaps a waltz next, my lord?” Mrs. Thomas suggested.
“I don’t think so,” Lord Castleford said. “I believe perhaps a quadrille—”
“Actually,” Fanny spoke up. “I think the waltz sounds ideal. I’ve always wanted to try it.”
Lord Castleford’s mouth lifted in the corner. “It’s very brave of you to attempt such a piece, Miss Grouseman. I do hope my toes can survive the torture.”
Fanny’s brows lifted. “Yes. It would be a shame if I were to trod upon your instep on purpose.”
Lord Castleford threw back his head and laughed richly. As the music started, he drew her into his embrace. “You know, you’re rather lovely when you’re angry.”
In spite of her irritation, Fanny found her pulse leaping in response as he began to lead her about the room in three-beat time. She stumbled along at the beginning, so she turned her attention to the floor, determined to do her best not to make an even bigger fool of herself.
After a few turns, she felt a gentle finger on the bottom of her chin. With the slightest pressure, Lord Castleford brought her gaze upward. Fanny’s heartbeat accelerated as his green eyes caressed her face. “You’re thinking too much,” he murmured deeply, the sound going straight to her core. “Don’t concentrate on the steps of the waltz. You have to feel the music.”
Held by his unflinching stare, she drew courage from his strength and expertise. Soon they were flying across the floor as if they’d been dancing together all of their life. When the music finally came to a close, he slowly released her and took a step back. Fanny was breathing heavily, and not just from her exertions. Her hands were trembling, so she quickly tucked them in the folds of her skirts.
“You did very well, Miss Grouseman,” Lord Castleford said rather huskily. “I should think that’s enough for today.”
“Indeed.” Fanny swallowed tightly. “I confess I’m rather… tired.” She gave a rather awkward curtsy, and then turned and rushed from the room.
***
Once Mrs. Thomas realized that her services were no longer required, she left Jonathan to his own devices. He walked over to one of the windows and grasped the sill tightly enough to make his knuckles turn white. This isn’t supposed to happen…this isn’t supposed to happen… He kept repeating the words to himself, but it didn’t change the strange stirrings in his heart.
Jonathan sighed, his breath fogging on the pane before dissipating just as quickly. Only then did he realize that action rather mirrored his current existence. His life until this point, had been nothing more than a shroud, an illusion for the man who lay dormant beneath, the one he’d refused to let out for fear of the pain that might ensue should he allow his emotions to take hold. He had witnessed the downward spiral his parents had suffered over the years, his father’s countless affairs that led to the inevitable demise of his mother, and it had put him off of any long-standing relationship, allowing the insouciant rake to run free.
So it was rather ironic that it had taken a fateful trip to Cornwall for him to face a difficult c
rossroads — to continue on the same, destructive path he’d always followed, or to finally take a chance on something else, something more.
Not only had he dared to take on the folly of reviving what would likely be a dead mine, but he’d never expected this odd yearning when he was around Fanny. She made him feel…alive. It was as if he had only been a shell of a man before he met her, someone who went through the motions of living without actually knowing what it truly meant. And while he had always been careful to retain his distance from any other woman, in the short time he’d known Miss Grouseman she had managed to burrow into that shallow organ in his chest and cause it to beat with a purpose. Not only did he enjoy sparring with her, just to see her cheeks flush with frustration and her dark eyes to sparkle, but she had a quick wit that fascinated him.
And he’d had to control himself, more than once, from bending down and kissing that tempting mouth.
Jonathan shook his head as he pulled the handkerchief from his pocket and ran his thumb over the gold embroidery. He kept it with him at all times without even knowing why, except that his experience with that fortune teller had been more disturbing than he cared to admit.
Could she have been right? Were certain paths intertwined for a reason? And could those same paths lead people to where they were supposed to be?
Or perhaps the truth was that people didn’t choose their own destiny. Maybe each individual’s fate was already decided and one’s choices made the person.
He frowned thoughtfully as he tucked the square of linen back into his pocket. Restless, he spun on his heel and called for his horse to be saddled. A brisk ride always helped to clear his head, and right now, his thoughts were as murky as the waters of the Thames.
***
The next afternoon, Fanny rode in her family’s closed carriage, her fingers clasped in her lap, tapping her thumbs together in a steady staccato as she rolled closer to Killigarth Manor. A flash of lightning split the sky, followed by a clap of thunder rumbling in the distance,, and she drew her pelisse a bit more tightly around her.
Lord Castleford's Fortunate Folly (Fortunes 0f Fate Book 2) Page 3
