“Actually, we may be able to achieve just that, if you will but hear my plan.” His sly smile beckoned, as he swept her off her feet, carried her to his stallion, lifted her to the saddle, and then joined her. “I made a fair and equitable gentleman’s agreement, with your father’s blessing, so let us tour the north fields and plot our next move.”
“What if we embark on a fool’s errand that will end in naught but ruin and despair?” As he pulled her sideways, into his lap, she folded her arms and shivered, when he pressed flirty little kisses along the crest of her ear. “You cannot seduce your way out of this, Ernest. I would have your answer. Are you prepared to lose?”
“Yes.” The single word, uttered in a low, gravely voice rocked her, as he seemed so casual about their future. “But it will not come to that. At least, I hope it will not come to that.”
“Then what have you in mind?” Resting against his stalwart frame, she braced for the news. “And does my father truly support us, or did you use your influence to pressure him?”
“My dear, you do not give me much credit, as I would never resort to coercion to achieve my aim, especially when it comes to you.” As the cool breeze rustled her hair, he steered the horse down the narrow path. “Rather, your father and I agree that your happiness is of paramount importance. Indeed, you are all that matters, so he will accept your decision, as will I. In fact, I promised him I would not challenge you, should you opt for something, or someone, else.”
“What does that mean?” How could he think, for even a minute, that she would want someone else, when she dreamed of a life with Ernest, for as long as she could remember? Was he prepared to surrender before the challenge began? “Do you not want me?”
“Darling Hen, for me, you are everything.” Cupping her chin, he extended comfort in a kiss. “But what we are about to embark upon is not for the faint of heart, as it will not be easy. Society defines our relationship as forbidden, so we must be strong, if we are to succeed. However, with a minor alteration, harmless in the grand scheme, we might outwit the scandalmongers and win the future we desire.”
“What minor alteration?” Puzzled by his curious comment, she pondered the road ahead and unforeseen difficulties, which seemed dotted with invisible snares. “What have you devised with my father, as I know well of his disapproval?”
“As we discussed, I shall take you to London, because I would give you a season and so much more.” When Henrietta shivered, Ernest frowned, unbuttoned his coat, pulled her closer, and tucked the folds about her. “However, Barrington and I shall introduce you as a distant cousin, several times removed, just arrived from the country.”
“Thereby creating an acceptable history.” Yet, she did not like the idea, because it was a lie. “And you believe that will satisfy the gossips?”
“It will if you play your part, because society respects strength. If you act as though you belong, it is doubtful they will question you.” As he did when they were children, he toyed with her fleshy earlobe, and he heeled the stallion to a gallop. “But you will not be alone, so you need have no fear of discovery. Either Barrington, Florence, or I will be with you, at all times. Then, at the end of the Season, you and I shall wed. Where we go from there is no one’s business.”
“And if I choose not to marry you?” She held her breath, as he stiffened beneath her, because she had to consider the fact that his strategy might fail. “What will you do, Ernest?”
“I will let you go.” Why did she not believe him? On the verge, a splendid landscape offered welcome distraction, as he drew rein, and she braced for his response. “Your father told me of his plans to send you to Paris, to open a boutique, and I pledged enough funds to finance the venture and purchase suitable living accommodations, until you can survive on your own. However, should you ever have need of me, I will assist you.”
“You would do that for me?” Had she thought she loved Ernest? “You would forgo any protest?”
“Even if it kills me, and it might.” She was not sure about that, but she was in no position to press for more, so she had to trust him. Holding her firmly in his grip, he teased her with his nose, and they shared another sweet kiss, which she was reluctant to end. “But I ask you to give us a chance at the happiness we coveted as children, because our dream is not so farfetched. Let us renew our acquaintance, although I submit it is wholly unnecessary, as you and I are so in tune as to render verbal communication gratuitous, despite the fact that our parents did their damnedest to separate us.” He tucked a tendril behind her ear. “Yet, in so many ways, it is as if you never left Derbyshire.”
“I know, as I feel the same.” While so much of the man had grown and matured, his blue eyes remained constant, and it was there she found comfort and reassurance. In his gaze, she could journey through time, to the past, and to their youthful days, when they functioned as a single entity. She brushed his brown hair from his forehead and smiled. “And that is why I accept your proposal and commit fully to your plan.”
CHAPTER FIVE
The streets of Chesterfield were alive with activity, as Ernest escorted Henrietta to the market. Wearing one of his best coats and a new pair of buckskin breeches, with his Hessians polished to a mirror-shine, he simmered with excitement, smiled, and acknowledged various locals of note, offering little in the way of information regarding the mysterious lady at his side. Brimming with pride, given the beauty on his arm, he resolved to purchase the entire lot of ladies’ accouterments, if only to please Hen, because she accepted him, and it had been a long time since he savored the rousing taste of hope.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Fussing with the velvet bow of the dark green poke bonnet she borrowed from Florence, Henrietta bit her bottom lip. “And should I not have a chaperone?”
“Perhaps, but we will not let that stop us from enjoying ourselves, will we?” Indeed, nothing could temper the thrill of victory, as he embarked on the courtship to end all courtships. “And this is a most excellent idea, because I would have the world know you are mine.”
“Are you not putting the cart before the horse?” She glanced at the two footmen, in tow. “We have made no announcement, and we have yet to survive the Season.”
“A mere formality.” Nothing could spoil the moment, as Ernest led her to a stall that featured a huge collection of hair adornments, because countless times he had envisioned indulging her. “Shall we begin here?” He selected a lovely silk bandeau. “What about this? Could you not use it to complete one of your unique ensembles?”
“What a stunning shade of red.” Wrinkling her nose, she leaned close. “But the gathers are uneven, and there is no velvet underside to hold the bandeau in place. Without the velvet, the decoration will slip free.”
“Well, let us continue, my dear.”
A half an hour later, after perusing the entire collection, as if they were running a race at the Royal Ascot, they departed without buying a thing, because nothing met her standards. Hoping to have more luck with gowns, he ushered her into one of the town’s most exclusive boutiques. Soon, he realized no one could satisfy Henrietta’s impeccable taste and unmatched requirements.
“Will nothing suit?” Disappointed, he ignored the nagging sense of failure that crept into his brain, spreading like some foul disease and gnawing at his flagging confidence.
“The dress is charming, but it is representative of last year’s fashions and evidences no real talent for design.” As she scrutinized a partially completed garment, she narrowed her stare and shook her head. “Look.” She pointed for emphasis. “The hem is uneven, the side seams are crooked, and the heavy taffeta does not compliment but rather overwhelms the lighter tulle, when pairing textiles should be an elementary aspect of the planning phase. Does no one take pride in what they produce?” With a tsk, she returned the lackluster garment to the wall peg. “Such a pity, as the overall concept shows promise.”
At the second store, she rejected the inventory of choices. When the third sho
p produced similar results, Ernest paused on the street corner.
“My dear, you may have to lower your expectations just a tad, as I cannot take you to the balls garbed in naught but your chemise and garters, although you would certainly attract attention.” Then he seized upon a perfect solution. “What say we tour the mercantile, and you can select your own materials?”
“What a wonderful notion, because then I could sew my own clothes, which I prefer.” In that moment, she bounced on her heels and favored him with a glowing smile, which cut through the chill and warmed him from top to toe. “And I should be inspired by the difference in inventory, as compared to Kent.”
“Would that please you?” How he ached to kiss her, to take her in his arms and make love to her, if only to capture a small taste of her joy, her fire, and her spirit, because he could not remember a time when he enjoyed such unshakable certainty in his future. “Because I do wish to please you.”
“My lord, you please me without even trying, and you always have, but you know that.” She was correct in her assertion, because no one believed in him like Henrietta. Clicking her heels, she saluted, as she often did when they were young. “Lead, and I shall follow you anywhere.”
That was their call to arms.
“I like the sound of that.” Just as when they were children, in her adoring gaze he believed he could topple corrupt governments, defeat a slew of villains, and succeed in any noble endeavor with which she charged him, because she made him believe in himself. She validated him. She made him understand that he possessed a measure of self-worth. That he was more than just a sand-filled bag to be pummeled by his father.
That was why he lied to her.
That was why he could never let her go.
With an exaggerated bow, he chuckled and ushered her to the textile merchant.
As she examined bolt upon bolt of fabric, voicing approval of some while rejecting others, he remained in her wake, admiring her ability to negotiate prices. Indeed, she evidenced the same confidence that drew him to her, when he was but a green lad.
In some respects, between the two of them, she remained the confident, stronger partner. No matter the predicament, Henrietta always portrayed fierce conviction in her actions, and he often thought of her, as he mimicked the same mettle during various business deals, throughout his adult life, which carried him to victory. Yet, Ernest kept the truth hidden deep in his soul.
He was a fake.
He was a fraud, because he remained very much a prisoner of his father’s abuse.
Upon her return, he realized he had been adrift as a ship without an anchor, after his father sent Hen to Kent. That was why he rarely ventured to Derbyshire. Everywhere he turned, he was reminded of the stablemaster’s daughter, and the agonizing torment driven by her absence threatened to destroy him, as in her absence he lost her, again and again.
So many times, he had been tempted to travel to Kent. To find his ladylove. To bring her back to Garring Manor, but one thing kept him at bay. The fear that she found happiness without him. If he wandered the earth like a lost and wounded animal, the knowledge that she persisted in some sense of contentment would have struck the final blow.
“My lord, you woolgather.” As he blinked, she nudged him in the ribs. “And in some respects, I do the same thing.”
“Yes, you do.” When he noted the pile of selections, he chuckled. In the end, it seemed he at last succeeded, although not as anticipated. “And it appears you do very well, my dear, given you have amassed a veritable mountain in materials.”
“If it is too much, I can put some back.” The glow in her cherubic cheeks ebbed ever so slightly, and he cursed his blasted hide. “Really, I do not need them all.”
“You will do no such thing.” As he caressed a swath of rich blue velvet, something occurred to him, and he peered at the shopkeeper. “We will take the entire lot, and I shall dispatch my footmen to retrieve the parcels. You may send the bill to Garring Manor, care of Lord Ernest Howe.”
“Of course, my lord.” The stodgy merchant dipped his chin.
“How does it feel to do that?” she asked, as they stepped onto the sidewalk.
“Do—what?” He waved to the footmen. “Collect my purchases and convey them to the coach.”
“Aye, sir.” The servants bowed in unison.
“What is it like to buy anything you want, whenever you want, without fear of going hungry or ending up in debtor’s prison?” She settled her palm in the crook of his elbow, and he steered toward the next destination. “Because I am accustomed to counting every shilling.”
“You will know, soon enough.” Four doors down, he paused, turned the knob, and handed her over the threshold. “Once we are married, you will never again quibble over a few pounds.”
“My lord, I do not want you for your money, and we just spent a vast deal more than a few pounds.” As her shimmer faded, he realized he insulted her. “I would be happy if we never journeyed to London, and I spent my days in naught but my simple morning dresses.”
“I apologize, Hen.” He snapped his fingers, and the jeweler came alert. “I should not have insinuated your reasons for accepting my proposal were anything less than honorable, and my motives for enacting my plan are simple. I mean to marry you, and I will have you by my side, thereafter. In order for that to happen, we must introduce you to society, where you will accompany me to the various engagements I am required to attend. That has always been my dream, and now that we are reunited I will have it. And I will let nothing and no one stand in my way. Perhaps, I can make it up to you with something that sparkles.”
“Ernest, where have you brought me and to what purpose?” She glanced left and then right, perused the displays of precious baubles, and flinched. “You cannot be serious.”
“Ah, but I am determined to spoil you, my dear. In some ways, I have lived my whole life for this moment, and I shall have it. Please, indulge me, Hen.” With his arm at her waist, he pushed her forward. “Good afternoon, Mr. Leighton.”
“Lord Ernest, as always, it is a pleasure to see you.” It struck Ernest, in that instant, that he bought several items from the purveyor of precious gems, over the years, for his ladybirds, and he did not want Henrietta confused as such, given the manner in which the jeweler gaped at her. “What can I show you? A bracelet, perhaps?”
“No.” Indeed, that particular accessory often accompanied a farewell, and Ernest opted for the unvarnished truth of the situation, as Mr. Leighton did not travel in the same social circles. “I would like to show Miss Graham an assortment of betrothal rings, as well as a strand of pearls.” The thrill of triumph almost moved him to tears, as he uttered the singular proclamation, because it brought him one step closer to the reality he coveted. “And if you have something to compliment a gown of blue velvet, I should like to see it.”
“Ernest, what are you doing?” At his side, Henrietta dug her fingernails into his coat sleeve, but he pretended not to notice.
“I have just the thing.” From a cabinet, Mr. Leighton drew a small box. Inside, on a bed of black satin, sat a variety of gold bands. “Let us begin with the foundation of the ring, and then we can pair it with a stone of your choice. If you will have a seat, Lord Ernest and Miss Graham.”
“Excellent.” Ernest held her chair until she was comfortably situated. Well, as comfortable as possible, under the circumstances. “Have you any preferences, Henrietta?”
“No, I do not.” As she gazed on the selection, she bit her bottom lip and furrowed her brow. In unveiled agitation, she shifted her weight. Then she toyed with the hem of her sleeve. “I would be happy with a piece of string.”
“I know you would.” Grasping her wrist, he kissed her gloved knuckles. “And that is why you will have a diamond and anything else your heart desires.”
“This understated but elegant band of polished gold would look wonderful on Miss Graham’s slender fingers.” Mr. Leighton held up the ring. “And you can pair it with a large,
round-cut stone, if Miss Graham will remove her gloves, that I might take her size.”
After much hesitation, and in some instances downright refusal to answer, Hen finally agreed on a simple, unembellished band with a one-carat diamond. Then Ernest picked a charming strand of pearls, which he insisted she wear. When the jeweler asked them to wait, as he collected something special from the back of the store, she leaned toward Ernest.
“My lord, this is too much.” Toying with the necklace at her throat, she compressed her lips and then sighed. “How can I ever repay you for such extravagant gifts?”
“Sweetheart, it is my duty, as your husband, to dress and adorn you, thus there is naught to repay. But, if you insist, I am sure we can come to some agreement and a means of compensation that benefits us, both.” When she made to protest, he silenced her with an upraised hand. “I beg you, indulge me, please. I have waited my whole life to do this, I am enjoying myself, immensely, and I wish to savor our day.” After she nodded, he cupped her chin and winked. “Shall we continue?”
“All right.” Her expression did not inspire confidence. “But take pity on me, and do not buy anything too expensive, as I am already overwhelmed by your generosity.”
“Now then, as I was saying, I have just the item you require, Lord Ernest.” Mr. Leighton set a large box on the table and lifted the lid, revealing an exquisite parure of sapphires and diamonds nestled in a bed of pure white satin. “This is an exclusive design created by one of my master jewelers, and the construction is unique to my shop. I guarantee there is nothing else like it in England.”
Fashioned of gold, the baubles featured a gothic motif, with a combination of diamond scrollwork and leaf work and sapphire and pearl rosette-like mosaics comprising the necklace, bracelet, ring, two perfectly matched shoulder brooches, a larger single brooch, and earrings. Without doubt, the pièce de résistance was a tiara that boasted seven sapphire pinnacles, of which the middle one was the largest, and it impressed even Ernest in its splendor.
The Stablemaster's Daughter (Regency Rendezvous Book 11) Page 6
