Donna, fanning herself against the intense heat, moaned faintly, "I fear it is just a little warm for me, Sir Josiah,"
"Reminds me of our days in the Indies!" He sank down, fanning himself with his hat and gratefully accepted a cup of tea from his wife. "And what are you ladies plotting?" he enquired archly.
"Sir Josiah!" his lady protested. "What a suggestion! Miss Donaldson and I were just discussing ... erIn the face of the scepticism on her husband's face, she faltered. " Well, if you must know, we were speaking of dear Jeremy and Miss Dane. "
"Ah ha! So that is how the land lies!" The nabob contemplated his cup for a few moments. "I cannot pretend I am anything but delighted."
Miss Donaldson, flustered by this frank speaking, hastened to set the story straight. "Sir Josiah, please, I believe you run a little ahead of us! Nothing has been said between the young people." She broke off, looking pensive. "At least, I believe not--Lady Finch and I were merely speculating upon the desirability of the match." '
"Well, well." Sir Josiah was unperturbed. "We shall see.f But I have every hope ... two handsome young people thrown together... Nature has a way of dictating events..." He tipped his hat over his nose and dozed off, leaving Miss Donaldson rutting in horror at the unseemly notion of Nature, and Lady Finch hiding her smiles behind her fan.
The two handsome young people in question had spent the morning bowling along' the dusty country roads in perfect harmony, happy in each other's company, but without a romantic notion in their heads.
Mr. Blake, no fool, had drawn his own conclusions about Miss Dane's feelings for Lord Arlington. However unsatisfactory he considered her choice to be, he was far too pragmatic a man to waste time pining for what could never be his.
Miss Dane, too honest to mistake liking for love, was content to enjoy Jeremy's company. The attraction to her that she had sensed in him' on their first meeting had tempered to liking and mutual respect and if she could not--would not--have Marcus, then she would settle her mind to being an old maid . but one with many good friends.
By one o'clock the next morning, with the moonlight flooding across the bedchamber floor as bright as day, Antonia's resolution to be a happy old maid had quite deserted her.
Marcus had filled her dreams and now, fully awake, she could not shake his image from her mind. She was also very hot, the low-ceilinged room seemed oppressive and suddenly she had to be out in the fresh air.
Antonia pulled on a light muslin gown and kid slippers and slipped quietly out of the house, across the lane and into the pleasure grounds of Rye End Hall, But even here the air felt sultry and still.
Only down by the river did there seem to be a faint breeze stirring the willows. Antonia walked slowly along the river path, yawning and wishing she could sleep.
The moonlight silvered the willow fronds as they flickered in the cooling zephyr and she was suddenly transfixed by the bubbling beauty of the nightingale's song. It was an exquisitely lovely noise, yet melancholy and did nothing to soot be Antonia's heartache.
Ahead, beyond the curve of the river, she heard a splash. Probably fish leaping for the flies that danced over the surface of the water, she mused. ~ What-was she about, wandering around at this time of night? . Antonia chided herself. All she was achieving was to deepen her gloom . on the other hand, just around the bend there was a shelving beach of gravel and a wide pool of water. She could take off her slippers and paddle a little. It would be so cooling.
Silent as a moth, she padded down to the water's edge, cast off her shoes and stepped into the rippling water. Oh, it was so good! Even the soft mud insinuating itself between her toes was cooling. The moon went behind a cloud momentarily, and as it did so she heard another splash, then another.
Alarmed, Antonia peered across the pool, seeing a dark, sleek object appear around the bend. An otter! How wonderful to see the shy animal, she thought, standing very still. Then the moon was unveiled again, the pool suddenly flooded with light, and she saw it was no creature, but a human swimmer, lazily drifting on his back with the current.
Antonia was transfixed with horror at the mortification of being found by one of her tenants, barefooted and unesco fred at this time of night. And then the realisation that at any moment she might be confronted by a scarcely clad---even naked man, sent the colour scalding her cheeks.
She turned to run, but at the same moment the man twisted in the water, his body breaking the surface, and stood up~ Antonia:s gasp was clearly audible in the still, sultry air. This was no tenant, this was Marcus, water cascading from his sleek dark hair and off the naked planes of his body.
After one startled, horrified, downwards glance
Antonia averted her burning face and stood helpless.
Moving, saying anything, even running away, were quite
She was aware of him wading ashore and moving about on the bank, but then to her horror she heard him splashing through the shallows behind her.
"Antonia?" He was close enough to send ripples lapping against her ankles, drenching the hem of her muslin skirts~ His breath was warm on her neck and even though he said no more, that one word was full of amusement. Furious, Antonia spun round, stumbling in the mud, unheeding of M arcus's state of undress, and found herself confronting him. He had pulled on his breeches and shirt, but the fine white lawn was unfastened and clung to his damp body and his wet hair was slicked back from his forehead.
"Sir ... II ... this-is not seemly!"
"Indeed it is not. Really, Antonia, you shock me. Do you make a habit of haunting the local bathing pools at night? I was most embarrassed."
"You! Embarrassed! How dare you imply that I was spying on you!" He was so close that she could see the glitter in his dark eyes, part mockery, part something far more disturbing. His mouth was curved with amusement and a deep sensuality.
"Were you not? Then what were you about out here at this time of night?" He was closer now, his voice husky.
"I was too hot, I went for a walk!" He was overwhelmingly close, his part-clad body disturbingly different, his eyes now openly travelling the length of her frame to where her feet glinted white through the water. Antonia raised both hands in a futile gesture of denial and found her wrists caught lightly in his hands.
Marcus pulled her gently towards him and she went, oblivious to the water splashing to her knees, oblivious to everything in her desperate craving for the touch of his lips. His mouth was burning on hers, his hands cold on her shoulders and the bare skin of his chest wet against the sensitive curves of her breast above her low-cut bodice.
His mouth opened on hers, his tongue gently invading, inciting, tormenting her until she responded, tentatively at first, then with growing abandon, the shock of the intimate intrusion rousing feelings of desire she was not aware she was capable of.
Marcus's strong arms enfolded her, then he picked her up effortlessly without breaking the kiss. Antonia clung to him, unconcerned that he would drop her, only anxious that he never stop kissing her, possessing her like this. Marcus strode up the beach and laid her gently down on the grass slope of the bank. "Antonia, darling..." he murmured huskily, his hands brushing the soft skin at the edge of the bodice, before reaching up to shrug off the clinging fabric of his shirt.
Antonia, looking up into his face as he bent over her, lifted one tremulous hand and traced her fingers over the cool skin of his' chest, gasping as his nipple hardened under ~her fingertip.
Marcus moaned, deep in his throat and stooped to press his mouth to hers again, the weight of him thrilling against the length of her.
The nightingale whistled a few bars, almost beside them, then Antonia realised it was not the bird, but a human, imitating ~the song. She gasped and pushed against Marcus's chest, but he responded only by tangling his fingers in her tousled hair.
Then the silence was broken by the sharp crack of a twig on the path and Marcus sat up, his eyes narrowed as he searched the shadows. He stood, pushing Antonia behind him and called sharply,
"Who is there?"
Antonia cast around wildly for a bush to hide behind, found none and prayed that the newcomer would take alarm at the challenge and turn tail. She pulled the edges of her gown up, pushing the hair from her face and tried to still the tumultuous beating of her heart.
"I am Jeremy Blake of Rye End Hall! And who the devil might you be, sir, on my uncle's lands?" came the sharp response as Jeremy stepped out of the shadows cast by a willow onto the cropped grass of the little bay. "Arlington! Damn it, man, you gave me a start! I thought you were a poacher after my uncle's trout."
"Blake, yes, indeed, it is I. I came down for a swim, it is so infernally hot. I had not looked to see anyone else about at this hour. Are you also intending to swim? It is a good safe bottom here, if you are." His lordship spoke easily. Antonia admired his sang-fro id and the way in which he resisted any temptation to glance behind him to where she stood.
"No, I ... er..." Jeremy faltered. In truth he had woken and, hearing the nightingale, had decided to stroll along the river bank to find out if any more were about. He had a keen interest in matters ornithological, but felt his lordship would consider it an unmanly occupation. However, he was conscious that he sounded evasive in the extreme and was about to say something about seeing how the fish were rising when he caught a glimpse of something pale beyond Marcus's shoulder.
So that was what had brought his lordship out at this time of night.
Mr. Blake was not sure he approved of liaisons with village maidens, but neither did he feel that now was the time to take a moral stand.
"Allington!~ You should have said I was intruding. I will bid you good night!"
Antonia saw him turn to go and stepped forward to Marcus's side in relief, only to freeze in horror. Just as she stepped into the moonlight Jeremy turned again. "You may rely on my discretion, my lord... Good God! Antonia!"
Chapter Eleven
"Antonia?" Jeremy Blake said again on a note of rising disbelief.
Antonia saw herself through his eyes; hair tousled, gown damp about her ankles, her bodice awry. She felt ready to sink through the ground with the sheer mortification of being found in such an embarrassing position. ~
"Jeremy," she began, imploringly, desperate to explain to her friend how she came to be so deeply compromised.
Mr. Blake, hearing the anguish in her voice, seeing the deep distress on Antonia's face, leapt at once to the conclusion that Lord Arlington was hell ben ton a course of seduction and the ruination of an innocent young woman. Of course---this explained it all; he had sensed Antonia's attraction to his lordship, yet her unhappiness could only be attributed to cynical attempts in the past by his lordship to seduce her!
Jeremy's hands clenched instinctively at his side, but his natural good sense kept him from a rash demand for a duel. To call his lordship out, as his chivalrous instincts demanded, would be fatal to Antonia's reputation, for it could never be kept quiet. He took a step forward, held out a hand to her and said, in a voice of thunder, "Sir, I demand to know what you are doing here with my fiancee."
Marcus's face showed astonishment, swiftly turning to dark anger as he swung round towards Antonia. "So that was what you were doing here and why Blake was so reticent in his explanations. A tryst, by God! And it appears there are no lengths you would not go to to hide the fact from me, madam. You were most convincing, but no doubt in a few moments you would have discovered a headache and run away home. A pity your lover is less inventive."
"Marcus... I..."
"I bid you both good night. I wish you well of your union--it will, I am certain, bring joy to your friends."
Pausing only to snatch up the rest of his clothing from the fiver bank, Marcus strode haughtily out of their sight.
There was a moment of stunned silence. Antonia stared blankly at Jeremy who now wore an expression compounded of sheepishness and defiance.
"How dare you!" she stormed, consumed by so many roiling emotions she hit out regardless of who suffered. "How could you say such a thing to imply that you and I are to be married! Where does that leave me now?"
"In better case than you were in five minutes ago!? he retorted hotly, as confused as she. " You should look to your reputation, Miss Dane, and consider yourself fortunate it was I who discovered you with his lordship. Your name will he better protected as my wife than as Marcus Allington's mistress! "
They glared at each other in the moonlight, then he saw her underlip was quivering and one tear was rolling down her cheek. His hurt pride melted as he realised she was too upset to think clearly. "Really, Antonia, what would you have had me do? I had to think quickly, and it was that or hit the man on the jaw. If I could have managed it,? he added with rueful honesty.
"I wish you had," Antonia responded mutinously. Suddenly she felt very, very tired and sat down with an unladylike thump on the river bank.
"No, you do not," Jeremy said firmly, sitting down beside her and putting one arm round her shoulders in a comradely manner. "Fist fights are bloody, unpleasant and rarely achieve anything. Now, tell me what this is all about so we can find a solution to this coil."
"This is not a legal problem you can resolve by consulting a few dusty tomes," Antonia snapped, then relented immediately. "Oh, Jeremy, I am sorry, you are a good friend to tolerate my vapours." She twisted round to me~ his eyes. "I did wonder if you had a partiality for me, at: first But you have not, have you? I am right?~ she questioned anxiously.
Jeremy smiled. "Mmm ... there was a time when I felt fairly sure I was going to fall in love with you. But there is nothing quite as dampening as the discovery that the object of one's interest has her affections fixed firmly elsewhere. That said," he added firmly, 'it is no reason why we should not deal very well together, you and I. "
Antonia kissed his cheek with real affection, "You are a dear, Jeremy.
But I cannot. I love him, you see."
"Then why do you not marry the man, then?" Mr. Blake asked with a touch of impatience. "Has he not asked you? He is obviously deeply attracted to you."
Antonia smiled wryly. "Oh, he has asked me to be his wife. But then I discovered that his lordship is a man who is attracted to many women.
In my case, the attraction is embellished by the thought of getting his hands on Rye End Hall and its lands."
Jeremy understood enough of women to ignore the jibe about lands and to focus on the real heart of the matter. "I assume you are referring to one woman in particular?" He recalled the expensively gowned figure, the sharply provocative little face, as Claudia Reed lounged at the picnic. "I can quite see her attraction," he added mischieviously.
"Mutton dressed as lamb!" Antonia responded ~mdig-nantly. "You are as had as he is! I wonder what she looks like first thing in the morning
"Mmm..." Mr. Blake said speculatively.
'before her maid and her hairdresser and goodness knows what cosmetics have come to her aid? She looked at Jeremy sharply. "You are teasing me."
"Of course I am teasing you! Women like that are commonplace in London. She is doubtless an entertaining and compliant mistress-~my bet is that there is an' elderly complaisant husband somewhere; there usually is. A gentleman like Arlington is going to expect his entertainment--~he is, after all, not a monk." He paused and cast her a doubtful glance. "You must forgive me being so free spoken, Antonia, I will say no more if I am offending you," - :
"No, dear friend, you are telling me nothing that I had not already fathomed for myself: I have' had London Seasons, after all. But how could he continue the liaison while he paid court to me?"
"Er.. ," Jeremy searched for a tactful way of expressing himself, but Antonia swiftly interrupted him.
"Oh, I know that in arranged marriages these things happen. But I truly believed he had at least respect and affection for me, And to flaunt his mistress so openly ... I could not marry a man who was so careless of my feelings."
"Then marry me. I can assure you I would never be careless of how you felt. I can off
er you the respect, affection and the companionship you deserve in a marriage which would maintain you in a fitting manner."
"But not love, Jeremy," she said wistfully.
"It will grow. I have the greatest admiration for love matches--after all, look at the example of my aunt and uncle. But very few people begin their married life with such strong feelings..."
"And what would happen if you found the woman for whom you could feel such emotions after we were married?"
"I would not look," he teased, squeezing her shoulder. "All men look, it is your nature!" Antonia retorted, laughing, feeling surprisingly cheered. "No, Jeremy, I like you too much to marry you. Now come, admit it, I am not breaking your heart, am I?"
"Madam, it is in pieces at your feet." He assumed an expression of anguish. "It will be noon tomorrow, at the very earliest before I have recovered."
"Mountebank! Help me to my feet, we c~nnot sit out here all night and I am suddenly fatigued. Goodness knows what hour it is."
Francesca Shaw - The Unconventional Miss Dane Page 19
