“My goodness me! Was she shocked?” Stuart asked dumbfounded.
“I’ve never seen her more so,” Frances said with a grimace. “I still regret doing it, but it was the only way I could stop her.”
“I take my hat off to you Frances; I never thought you would stand up to her, but I applaud you for doing it.”
“She was hurting others; I couldn’t stand back and do nothing,” Frances explained. She would never repeat the full details of the incident to anyone; it would ruin reputations, but she was quite pleased that she had surprised her companion.
“Ah, now I understand; I can believe you would go to someone else’s aid without fear: you always were protective as a child. If there was an injured animal, you were the one to take it home; if someone was feeling low, you would be found seated next to them offering support,” Stuart said with a smile. “Do you remember the day I returned from the hunt? I’d embarrassed myself by falling off my horse; my pride stung more than anything else, especially as it had happened in front of Robert Gilbert.” The smile had turned to a grimace as Stuart recalled the event.
“I do,” Frances said with a small smile. “I saw you near the river.”
“Yes, I was trying to work out how to drown myself with dignity.”
Frances laughed. “You were not! Although I do remember you cursing Robert, your horse and every living fox to hell and back.”
“Good memories when cursing is concerned are a poor show of friendship, Frances,” Stuart tutted at her.
“I have to have some pleasure,” Frances said without remorse. “Why can’t it be supplied by people when they forget themselves and curse like fishwives?”
“Good God! What company have you been mixing with since I left home?” Stuart spluttered. “I feel I need to hurry my return; the area has clearly gone downhill if there are fishwives cursing in the street.”
“Don’t tease; you know it is a saying,” Frances reprimanded him. “I recall you soon rallied.”
“Yes, because this wonderful person came and sat with me on the muddy bank and talked to me until I laughed and could forget about the shame I’d felt,” Stuart said seriously. It had been the first time he had really looked at Frances. He had been surprised she had never caught his eye before; she was extremely pretty, but in an inconspicuous way. He had quickly forgotten about the mortification of the day and been charmed instead.
They separated after an hour, Stuart cursing that he was so much older than Miss Latimer. When together after that day, he always sought her out. He could tell that Lady Joan teased her about him, but apart from blushing, Frances had not responded to the taunts. He had disliked Lady Joan for her treatment of Frances, but was powerless to do anything; if he had, it would seem he had a serious interest in Frances and, in his opinion, the age difference was just too much. He had thought of her over the years of his employment; he would have done anyway, but his mother’s letters were often full of news about Frances. There was never any scandal, or condemnation, just general news.
So, it was a real pleasure that he was now in company with her. Although she had agreed to travel home with him, he did not wish for that journey to happen too soon. They would have more opportunity to spend time together while they were in Carlisle, which appealed to Stuart more and more as the morning progressed.
They turned back towards the house when they had their fill of the immediate gardens; as much as they were enjoying their walk, they were guests and had obligations to the family. Both entered the house with smiles and sparkling eyes that had not been caused purely by the fresh air.
*
Annabelle awoke and lay still, thinking over the previous evening’s events. She could almost believe she had dreamed it if her lips had not felt swollen and slightly bruised. She touched them gently, remembering what it felt like to be kissed. At the start of the night she would have never imagined that, by the end of the evening, she would be standing outside her bedchamber being kissed as if she were the most precious thing in the world.
Frederick had said so many lovely things. He had been gentle, passionate and patient. Her heart raced to think of the effect his kisses had on her insides. She had been thankful for the solid feel of the wood behind her back as she was not convinced she would have had the ability to stand without support.
She had never experienced anything like it. The whole situation had been so much different than….Annabelle shuddered. It always came back to him. Why could she not forget him? It filled her with nothing but fear and loathing, but still he haunted her.
She groaned and rolled over; she had to forget it. She needed to try harder. Annabelle paused before rising; more importantly than dwelling on her nightmares, she wondered how she was ever going to face her husband without blushing beetroot red and letting everyone know that something had happened between them.
Frederick could not help the smile spreading across his face when he saw Annabelle’s shy smile as their eyes met when he walked into the dining room. He worried that she might withdraw from him again, but it appeared she was not regretting last night. Caroline and Harold were also seated.
Frederick decided that he was going to give his sister a clear message about the success of the ball. He walked to the side of Annabelle’s chair and held out his hand to receive hers. Annabelle hesitantly gave her hand to him, her eyes wary. Frederick smiled and kissed her hand, bowing over it.
“Good morning Annabelle; I trust you slept well last night?” Frederick asked pleasantly.
“I did, thank you,” Annabelle replied with a blush.
“Excellent,” Frederick responded, releasing her hand and walking to the side table to help himself to food. “When is the next entertainment planned Caroline?” he asked pleasantly.
Caroline narrowed her eyes at her brother; she knew he was up to something, especially if the look on Annabelle’s face was anything to go by. She hoped her brother would work through the difficulties of his marriage, but she was very suspicious at his appearance of suddenly being a social butterfly. “I hadn’t thought anything further than last night.” she admitted.
“Well it’s time this house saw more dancing; I shall leave it to you, but I will support anything you wish.” He had decided it was time to stop hiding and be the person, the husband, he wanted to be. He would show Annabelle he was the type of husband she would wish for.
All three diners looked at him in surprise, but he just smiled and sat down. “Would you like to go for a ride this morning, Annabelle?”
“That would be lovely,” Annabelle said, still surprised about Frederick’s change of heart.
“Good,” Frederick responded before changing the conversation while he ate his breakfast. He was fully aware his sentiments were out of character, but he was not about to indulge everyone and discuss it further.
Caroline cornered her brother soon after everyone had their fill of meat, bread, eggs and scones. They left the dining room in turn, Frederick having gone to the study to deal with correspondence and, unsurprisingly, it was not too long before Caroline entered the room, shutting the door behind her.
“Tell me all,” she said, in no doubt that she would receive a satisfactory response.
“There’s hardly anything to tell,” Frederick said with a smile.
“Something has changed; you both looked like the newlyweds you should be,” Caroline said bluntly.
“I’ve made a little progress; I think with perseverance, we will overcome our difficulties.”
“I hope so, and if it means I can organise more parties all the better!”
“I thought you’d like that,” Frederick smirked.
“It is no one’s fault, but this house needs more life,” Caroline said, understanding why her brother wanted to hide. It was a real shame in her opinion; she wanted the rest of the world to see what a good person he was.
“I know, although mother will probably worry herself silly. I don’t know why she doesn’t socialise more herself,” Freder
ick responded. Their mother had hidden herself away throughout the ball, claiming a headache, but neither child was convinced.
“I think she feels that you don’t go out and about, so neither should she,” Caroline said gently.
“Nonsense! I make my own choices. I’m beginning to think if I had gone out more, perhaps I wouldn’t be the novelty I am.”
“Maybe not.”
“We shall see in due course. I didn’t want the ball, but I do think we all relaxed because of it. I’m tired of always being careful,” he admitted.
“Well, don’t change too much; I love my brother, but even if you find it is not for you, I will support you. I may moan about the lack of use of the ballroom, but I will understand,” Caroline said with a smile.
“I wouldn’t expect anything else.”
Chapter 7
Stuart would have liked to share a picnic with Frances near the folly, just the two of them, without any disturbances. Unfortunately, in a house full of people, a good idea usually was embraced by everyone, and it seemed his had been a good idea.
A party was arranged so a picnic would be taken to the top of the hill. The folly would be opened to allow access and protection from the wind, although it was intended that the food would be served outside.
The group consisting of everyone except baby Andrew and Mrs Hedley started the gradual climb to the stone building. Stuart and William walked companionably together.
“I am able to give you the description of the view for a change,” William said pleasantly, acknowledging the slight change in roles that now existed in their relationship.
“Yes, I shall be listening with keen interest, unlike my pupil,” Stuart said with a raise of an eyebrow.
William smirked, “I listened.”
“Occasionally.”
“Sometimes you were dreadfully dull.”
“Remind me to ask your brother for a reference and not you.”
William laughed, “You’d be able to bore them into appointing you.”
“I can suggest another few weeks of Latin before I leave?”
“You wouldn’t be that cruel, would you?” William asked, suddenly wary of the effect his teasing was having on his tutor.
“It depends on the level of respect I receive between now and the day I leave.”
“Consider full respect, attention and subservience until then,” William promised.
“I may regret making my demand,” Stuart said with a groan, at which William laughed, and they continued to walk.
“If we’re lucky, on a clear day, we can see as far as the sea; I used to like it when I visited as a child, and Harold would bring me up here. He had a small telescope, and I could see the ships in Mary port clearly. If we look to the south, you’ll be able to see the hills of the Lake District standing guard. I think they shield us from some of the worst weather in the winter,” William informed his tutor.
“Can you see the border with Scotland?” Stuart asked.
“We aren’t far from Gretna Green, but we can’t see the road, unfortunately. I used to imagine I would be able to see the carriages making a mad dash to the border ahead of angry family chasing behind. The reality would have been a lot more mundane; a coach travelling at speed looks almost identical to a coach travelling more sedately at these distances. I was better able to see the ships, I think,” William said cheerfully.
“Always the one wanting dramatics,” Stuart chided.
“You have only seen me at my best!” William retorted with a grin.
The gentlemen walked in companionable silence after William’s description of the view had come to an end. Stuart would have rather had the company of another, but he was very fond of William; he had tutored him for almost two years.
He felt the same mix of sadness and pride every time he had to say good bye to one of his boys. Very often he was introduced as tutor when the boys were at the age of disliking restrictions, and there would be a time of test for both pupil and tutor. So far, with patience, Stuart had managed to break through the barriers and the relationship would flourish, but then it would be time to leave. Sometimes it felt as if he were a mother hen nurturing her chicks until they were ready to go out into the wider world and then watching them as they left the nest.
His mother would ridicule him if she were aware of his sentiments, but perhaps his pupils were a replacement for sons he had never had. While he had been with William, the need to settle and create his own family had increased, and he had reassessed what he would do when his appointment finished.
He was three and thirty now, of the age when he should be married. He had saved over the years to enable him to have a comfortable standard of living when he decided it was time to stop his travelling. He had no regrets; far from it, he knew the country of his birth and Europe far better than most people from his background, and he had met some interesting people along the way.
He also wanted to spend time with his mother for however many years she had left. They were close despite their separation, and he would like to think, when he did marry, his wife would accept his mother living with them. That could be easier said than done, he mused; his mother had high standards: she did not tolerate foibles in other people.
The group settled on the side of the folly that was most sheltered from the wind. Frederick escorted Annabelle to see the view of the sea. It was very windy, forcing Annabelle to hold on to her bonnet.
“It’s a beautiful view,” she said, holding onto her skirts.
“It is, but never perfectly calm,” Frederick responded, shouting over the sound of the wind. “Come, I will show you around the folly.”
They stepped inside, and the wind eased immediately, the thick stone walls built to withstand far more than the present wind. The room was barely furnished with just a large round table in the middle, surrounded by chairs. A side table completed the furniture. No drapes hung on the windows. A staircase led to the first floor; Frederick took Annabelle’s hand and led her towards it.
“It isn’t usual for a house the size of yours to have a folly, is it?” Annabelle asked as she climbed the spiral staircase.
“No, not at all,” Frederick agreed. “One of my ancestors built it so he could spend his nights gambling away from the house. There are stories he held parties that no genteel woman would be seen at.”
“Oh,” Annabelle responded.
“Luckily for the family, he died before he lost his wealth and the house to gambling. From all accounts he was quite capable of risking that; we had more land when he owned the house, but our neighbours were better card players,” Frederick said drily.
“That must have annoyed his descendants.”
“I can’t say it worries me. I like being able to leave this house for the family. I’m more than adequately catered for at Stannage House. I never longed for many houses and land; I’m afraid you’ve married someone who is happy with his lot.”
“You say that as if it is a bad thing,” Annabelle said with a smile. She joined him, standing at the only window in the room, which had been built to overlook the sea view. There was an old bedstead against the opposite wall but no further furnishings, the mattress having been removed and the bed curtains taken down. “When you have lived with someone who always seems to be striving, being content with your life is something to be appreciated and not underestimated.”
“What! You don’t wish me to be building you bigger and better properties? Buying you horses, carriages and jewels?” Frederick teased.
“I would never be foolish enough to refuse jewels.”
Frederick laughed, “I shall bear that in mind!”
“Good,” Annabelle smiled, sitting on the edge of the window. “The world could be on fire and you would never know, sitting in this room. All you would concentrate on would be that view; it is beautiful isn’t it?”
“With you nearby, I would always be distracted from the view,” Frederick said quietly.
Annabelle blushed, but smiled up
at him. “You say the nicest things.” Her words were said with a hint of surprise in her voice as if she did not expect someone to speak so kindly to her.
“With you as my wife, I find it very easy,” came the honest response. He sat opposite her, his knees touching hers. Leaning forward he cupped her face with one hand and kissed her. “I cannot believe that you are mine.”
“Yet I created a situation that forced you into marriage,” Annabelle said honestly.
“We both should have left that room, but I’m glad we didn’t.”
Annabelle returned his kisses; she moved her hand to mirror his hold and enjoyed the feel of his rough cheek on her palm. She had seen him close his eyes when she touched him, and it created fluttering in her stomach. “You make me feel so safe,” she whispered, the words being said almost without her realising it.
Frederick opened his eyes, looking into hers. “That is important to you isn’t it?”
Annabelle swallowed, “Yes.”
“Can you tell me why?” He knew instinctively something had happened to her that was the cause of her reticence.
Annabelle looked into the eyes that had seemed strange not so very long ago. They were rapidly becoming familiar and dear, particularly when they held an expression of concern and warmth as they did now. “I want to, but I can’t. I can’t put it into words,” she whispered quietly. If she put it into words, it could overwhelm her, and she could not risk that.
“I want to help; do you believe that?” Frederick asked. He kissed her gently when she nodded slightly, her eyes wide with what he guessed to be fear of trusting him completely. “I will be always ready to listen whenever you are ready to talk. Come here.”
Frederick wrapped Annabelle in his arms, pulling her towards him so she sat on his knee. He kissed the top of her head; it was no longer a kiss driven by desire but a kiss for comfort, one that conveyed that one day things would be better.
Annabelle stayed folded in his embrace until Frederick moved. “Come; everyone will be wondering where we are,” he said gently, reluctantly moving her from his knee. They walked out of the folly hand in hand; finally every day was bringing them closer together.
Annabelle: A Regency Romance (The Four Sisters' Series Book 2) Page 7
