He laughed at her astonishment. ‘In this instance I cannot claim the credit. I believe it was Jared. I found them both curled up on the rug this morning, sound asleep. Jared does not like English beds. He told me you met last night, here in the gardens of your home.’
‘Yes.’ Rosalyn was surprised that boy had told him. ‘I sent Sheba home with him. It seemed…unwise for a boy of his age to be wandering the countryside alone at night. Although I do not imagine he was in any real danger, I did not think you would approve. I believed Sheba would give him some protection, should he need it.’
‘That was thoughtful of you, and I agree he should not have been out so late—but he is far more mature than you might imagine. Indeed, I believe he has been forced to grow up too soon. He needs to have some fun—to enjoy himself like other boys of his age.’
‘Like other boys…’ Rosalyn looked at him consideringly. ‘Just who is he, Mr Wrexham? Last night I thought…I suspected…he might not be quite as you had described him.’
‘Did you, Miss Eastleigh?’ Damian nodded, his expression a mixture of vexation and amusement. ‘Yes, I expected that. Rajib told me what happened. I came to explain—to set your mind at rest. Rajib was merely trying to watch over the boy, something which I am afraid Jared finds very irritating.’
‘Yes, I imagined it must be something of the sort,’ Rosalyn said. ‘I would ask you in, but I have just escaped for a breath of air—and we can talk more freely if we walk for a while. If we went in, my cousin would be bound to join us, and then we should not be alone for a moment.’
‘Poor Diana.’ His eyes gleamed in appreciation. ‘You were not meant for captivity, Miss Eastleigh. You should be free to live as you will…be it above in the heavens or here on earth. I fear domesticity irks you beyond bearing at times.’
How could he know that? He read her mind too well! Rosalyn gave him what was meant to be a quelling look, frowning as she saw the answering laughter in his face. Was he never serious?
‘Tell me about your charge, Mr Wrexham. He is rather a special young man, is he not?’
‘Very special. Forgive me if I do not give you precise details. There are reasons, believe me.’
‘Yes, I see that. I imagine his father is a very wealthy man—perhaps an important man?’
‘How clearly you see things. A virtue I have seldom found in your sex.’ He gave her a wicked look as her eyes smouldered. ‘No, do not defend them, Miss Eastleigh. I am a rogue and my opinion is of no account. I am sure all ladies have endless virtues, even if I am not quite sure what they are…’
She was amused by his outrageous statement, but shook her head severely to warn him that he was being frivolous.
‘I shall not encourage you, sir. I am persuaded you know your own faults. You were telling me about Jared. Pray continue.’
Damian laughed. ‘Indeed I was and I shall. For reasons I may not divulge, Jared’s father decided it might be safer for him to live in England for a few months. Since Ahmed and I have long been friends…’
‘Ahmed?’
‘A name permitted only to a privileged few.’ Damian gave her a straight look. ‘It is best for all concerned that his title is not known here. As I was saying, Ahmed asked me to bring the boy back to England with me.’
Rosalyn nodded. ‘It was your intention to return home at this time?’
‘Yes. I have business of my own here. It enabled me to remove Jared from an environment that is not exactly welcoming at the moment.’
‘He told me he was no longer welcome in his father’s house.’
‘Did he?’ Damian’s eyes narrowed. ‘Did he say why?’
‘Only that things had changed since his mother’s death last year.’
Was that a look of relief in Mr Wrexham’s eyes? Rosalyn could not be certain.
‘Yes, that is unfortunately true,’ he said. ‘Jared’s father took another wife—a rather young and pretty girl. There was some jealousy—on both sides, I believe.’
‘Ah, yes. I understand.’
‘So, as Ahmed had always promised his first wife that Jared would spend some years at an English school…he thought now was the right time to send him.’
Rosalyn turned to her companion. Why did she suspect that he was not quite telling her the truth? He could have no reason to lie, surely? And yet she had the distinct impression that he was keeping something back from her. Why? Why not be completely frank now that he had begun? Perhaps he did not quite trust her.
‘So…’ His dark eyes dwelt intently on her face. ‘I hope what you have learned today has not changed your mind about visiting us this evening, Miss Eastleigh?’
‘No, certainly not,’ she replied. ‘Quite the opposite. I liked your pupil, sir. He is charming, and I hope that we shall all get to know each other well over the summer.’
‘Thank you.’ His smile was lazy, his manner relaxed, giving nothing away. ‘It will mean a great deal to us to have your friendship, Miss Eastleigh. We are both strangers in this place—and I would have Jared make friends here, if that is possible.’
Something more lay behind that statement. Rosalyn was intrigued. Her first impression of this man had not changed. She liked him—but she sensed that he had been forged in the fires of experience, not all of them exactly pleasant. He was a man with a past…and it might be interesting to discover the secrets he had left undivulged.
‘Do not search too hard for answers,’ he said, a meaningful look in his eyes. ‘It is merely that Jared misses his mother very much. I believe it will help him to spend a little time with you—you are in some ways a little like Anna. If you took an interest in him, it might help him to recover from his grief.’
‘I should be delighted to help in any way I can,’ Rosalyn replied. ‘Though I am not sure what I can do…’
‘Just be yourself,’ he said and smiled. ‘What else?’
As Rosalyn stared at him, her heart suddenly starting to beat wildly, he took a step towards her, then bent his head and kissed her very softly on the mouth.
‘I should not have done that,’ he admitted as she moved back, clearly startled. ‘It was irresistible—but wrong of me.’
‘It was rather forward of you,’ Rosalyn said. She was conscious of her flushed cheeks and the tumultuous racing of her pulses. What was the matter with her? She ought to be angry, but she was merely confused. He had surprised her. ‘I should prefer you to give me warning another time; a kiss is something to be anticipated, sir…and savoured.’
For a moment he stared at her with a kind of disbelief, then he threw back his head and laughed…warm, natural laughter that made Rosalyn tingle deep down to her toes.
‘When I was last in England, such an impertinence would have brought me a slap or a sharp setdown,’ he said, entranced by her answer, which in its way was more outrageous than his own behaviour. ‘I was right—you are a very unusual woman, Miss Eastleigh.’
‘And you are unlike any gentleman of my acquaintance,’ replied Rosalyn, her colour heightened. ‘However, since you have been in India for some years, I dare say you might have forgotten the proper respect due to a lady?’
His laughter was so warm and infectious that she was unable to prevent a smile. Besides, she was rather flattered that he had been tempted to kiss her. It was a long, long time since anyone had shown her anything other than a rather tiresome respect. And she wasn’t that old! Not so old that she could not be amused by a mild flirtation.
‘That’s done for me, hasn’t it?’ he said, eyes gleaming. He was enjoying their banter. ‘How refreshing, Miss Eastleigh. You are even more like Anna than I first thought. I think a more intimate acquaintance with you will be good for me as well as my pupil.’
The reference to Anna was clearly meant as a compliment. Rosalyn was curious about the woman who had dared to marry an Indian gentleman—something that must have seemed beyond the pale to ladies of her own class.
‘What was she like?’
‘Jared’s mother?’ Da
mian looked thoughtful. ‘Very beautiful…very determined to have her own way. She usually got what she wanted, though I never heard her raise her voice, nor did she nag. She simply seemed to assume that everyone would want to give her what she wanted—and they did. Her husband adored her and was devastated by her death: the reason for a rather hasty and unwise marriage was the grief he could not handle alone. You see, Anna was the strong one in that particular partnership.’
Rosalyn had never heard a man describe marriage in such terms. She was sure it was not the way most men would think of the marriage contract, but it sounded right to her: it should be a partnership but, in her experience, so often was not.
She smiled. ‘Then I fear Anna and I are not so much alike, Mr Wrexham. I believe I do have a temper, which I try—not always successfully—to control.’
‘I shall remember that.’ His expression made her catch her breath. He was so very attractive! ‘And now, Miss Eastleigh, I have business I must attend. I shall leave you—until this evening.’
‘Until this evening…’
Rosalyn watched as he strode off across the fields. What a forceful personality he had! Despite his undeniable charm, there was something about him that made her wonder if it would be wise to become too friendly with Mr Wrexham.
Chapter Two
Rosalyn had forgotten her brother’s letter, remembering it only when she was changing her gown for the evening. She read it quickly, with growing surprise. Freddie was coming down the next week and would stay for several days. He was bringing two guests. Female guests!
It was not often that Sir Frederick Eastleigh paid a visit to Cambridgeshire. He preferred his house in London or the estate in Devon. When he did come, his visit was usually unannounced and of uncertain duration. To write of his intention—and to bring female guests!—must surely point to something out of the ordinary.
Was Freddie thinking of marriage? The idea sprang to Rosalyn’s mind immediately, though she wisely kept it to herself when she joined Maria downstairs in the hall a few minutes later.
‘Freddie may bring some friends to stay next week,’ was all she told her cousin as they left the house to set out on their visit to the new residents of Orford Hall, ‘so we shall have a house full of guests.’
‘How nice,’ Maria replied, cheeks pink with excitement. ‘We go on very comfortably, just the two of us, but I do so enjoy entertaining guests. Especially dear Sir Frederick. It must always be a pleasure to welcome him home, must it not?’
‘Yes. I am always pleased to see Freddie.’
Rosalyn was engrossed by her own thoughts. Her brother was still only one and twenty, but having come into the title and his inheritance on his father’s death three years earlier, had become quite the man about town. Freddie’s sister had smiled to herself when he’d joined the ‘Corinthian’ set, a section of society much favoured by those gentlemen who enjoyed sporting pursuits. She knew Freddie spent his time indulging in the pleasures his not-inconsiderable fortune could provide—racing his specially made curricle, gambling, fencing, learning to box—but, since at heart he was a sensible young man, she had never worried too much.
She wondered that he should even think of marrying so young, but perhaps she was reading too much into his letter? Yet there must be a reason why he was bringing the Hon. Mrs P. Jenkins and Miss Beatrice Holland to meet her.
Rosalyn dismissed her vague worries as the carriage drew to a halt outside the rather grand façade of Orford Hall. It had been built in the previous century, was far more modern than Rosalyn’s own home, and featured a rather splendid portico of white marble columns and long gracious windows.
She was helped from the carriage by a footman and welcomed into the house by Mrs Browne, the Orfords’ housekeeper, who relieved both her and Maria of all the paraphernalia of cloaks, scarves, gloves and mufflers necessary for a cool spring evening.
‘Mr Wrexham and Master Jared are in the drawing room, waiting for you, Miss Eastleigh—the vicar is also dining with us tonight.’
‘Oh, is dear Mr Waller here?’ Maria brightened. She was quite partial to the slightly deaf but agreeable Reverend Waller. ‘That is nice. Thank you, Mrs Browne. I believe I shall keep my shawl. I feel the chill in the evenings still.’
‘Very wise, ma’am. It doesn’t do to invite problems at our age…’
Seeing that her cousin was content to indulge in a comfortable gossip with the Orfords’ housekeeper, Rosalyn moved towards the drawing room. She had been a frequent visitor for years, and was almost as much at home in the Orfords’ house as her own. On the threshold of the large salon, she stood for a moment taking in the scene of pleasant domesticity; the room was comfortable rather than fashionable, furnished in rich shades of crimson and gold, and had a welcoming atmosphere with a roaring fire, bowls of flowers and the faint smell of lavender.
Damian Wrexham was engaged in an amiable conversation with the vicar—wine glass in hand—but at her approach both gentlemen got to their feet and turned to her with a smile of welcome.
The Reverend Waller spoke first, ‘Good evening, Miss Eastleigh. How nice to see you here this evening, m’dear. I have been meaning to call for a day or so now.’
‘You are always so busy, sir.’ Rosalyn smiled at the vicar, who had been a good friend to her at the time of her father’s illness. ‘But you know your visits are always welcome.’
‘Oh, yes, yes, always a pleasure,’ said the Reverend, nodding at her happily. ‘The Orfords always set a good table.’
He seemed to have forgotten he was not dining with the Orfords, but, seeing the amused smile in her host’s eyes, she did not believe any offence had been taken.
‘Miss Eastleigh,’ Damian Wrexham said, coming to greet her. He took the hand she offered, carrying it briefly to his lips. ‘I am happy to welcome you to our—temporary home. Come, Jared, say hello to Miss Eastleigh.’
Rosalyn’s heart fluttered as she saw how attractive her host looked in evening dress. She was sure that even Freddie could find no fault with the fit of his coat of blue superfine, or the extremely elegant neckcloth he had tied—and the high polish on his boots would make her brother envious.
‘I am happy to be here,’ she replied, smiling as Jared came to greet her. He too was dressed in formal English clothes—apart from a very splendid turban of gold cloth—and looked a little ill at ease. ‘How are you, Jared?’
‘Very well, mem-sahib.’ His shyness was very different from his behaviour of the previous evening. ‘You are welcome here.’
‘Thank you.’
Rosalyn would have said more, but at that moment Maria came in and the youth retreated after introductions had been made. He stood by the window, looking out at the night, such a sad expression in his dark eyes that Rosalyn was moved to mention it to his tutor.
‘Jared does not seem happy tonight, sir. Has something occurred to upset him?’
‘I have for the moment been forced to curtail his freedom.’ Damian glanced at his charge and frowned. ‘He does not enjoy being kept a prisoner indoors.’
‘A prisoner?’ Rosalyn’s brows arched. ‘Surely not?’ What could he mean?
‘An unfortunate choice of words,’ Damian said, his mouth twisting wryly. ‘Do not imagine Jared is ill treated, Miss Eastleigh. Everything I am doing is for his own benefit.’
‘Of course.’
Why would he speak of his pupil as a prisoner? Was there something sinister here, something Mr Wrexham was afraid to reveal? Her reflective gaze rested on the Indian youth, but she was not aware how much of her thoughts were betrayed by her expression.
‘Sometimes circumstances dictate our actions, Miss Eastleigh. We are not always masters of our own fate.’
‘I suppose not.’ Rosalyn’s attention returned to her host. She gave him a speaking look from her fine eyes. ‘You will naturally make it your business to see that your pupil has regular exercise in the fresh air?’
‘Naturally.’ Damian’s eyes gleamed with a secret am
usement. ‘Unfortunately, Jared does not always appreciate company—unless it is your wretched dog. She followed me home again and has been here for most of the day.’
‘So that’s where she went.’ Rosalyn nodded. ‘It seems she has attached herself to your household, sir. But I can assure you that Sheba will not harm Jared. Indeed, I believe she would protect him with her life if need be.’
‘And you have no objection to her desertion?’ His eyes quizzed her, bringing a faint flush to her cheeks.
‘None at all. If having her here gives Jared pleasure, she is welcome to stay. Besides, Sheba has always had a mind of her own. As you may have observed, she takes very little notice of anything I say to her.’
A delightful little twitch of mirth touched her mouth, bringing an immediate response from the man.
‘Then I shall not waste my breath in sending her home.’
‘I fear Sheba is too independent to obey. Unless it suits her, of course.’
‘As is her mistress, perhaps?’
‘Touché!’
Rosalyn’s laugh rang out joyfully. She gave him a look of playful reproach. This man read her mind far too well for comfort. She would have to watch herself in his company.
Her laughter caused both the vicar and Maria—who had been happily chatting to one another—to stare at her in some surprise. Although always good-natured, it was seldom that Rosalyn had been heard to laugh in just that way. Their curiosity, combined with the wicked look in Mr Wrexham’s eyes, made her blush once more.
‘Excuse me,’ she whispered, feeling slightly flustered but unsure why. ‘I believe I shall talk to Jared for a few minutes.’
She left her host to stare after her as she crossed the room, unaware of the whimsical expression her banter had brought to his eyes.
Jared looked at her uncertainly as she approached but, seeing her expression of warmth and approval, seemed to relax his guard.
‘Sheba is in my room,’ he confided in a low voice. ‘I fed her before I came down. You need not fear she will go hungry while she is here, mem-sahib.’
Anne Herries Page 3
