Sweet Summer Kisses

by Erin Knightley

  “Then, by all means help yourself,” he laughed. He reached up and brushed away a smidge of dirt from her cheek. He was so close and for a moment, as they searched each other's eyes, she thought he might kiss her.

  He pulled away, however, and her heart sank. She turned back to the garden, willing herself to calm down as she placed the tools back into their box. She turned to find him staring at her.

  “I suppose I should go check on Lucy and change into something less...dirty.” She hurried off to hide her embarrassment.

  Lucy was still sleeping when she made it back to her room. Helena looked at the little angel on the bed and knew she needed to leave soon. They were already growing attached to each other. She had little doubt Lord Rutherford would likely offer for her because of Lucy, but she needed all or nothing. An attraction was nothing she would not recover from, but the longer she remained, she feared it would become harder to go.

  She wanted nothing more than to curl up in the inviting window seat with a book, but she had promised she would accompany Lord Rutherford and Lucy today. She changed into a clean riding habit and washed the dirt from her face. She could not help but be amused at the sight she must have been. Then her thoughts turned to what had almost happened with Lord Rutherford. For a moment, she was hopeful there might be a chance for them, but he'd pulled away as if he was trying to force himself to like her! It was going to be a long fortnight before her family arrived. She was beginning to long for something that would not work.

  She had fastened the last of the frogged clasps on the front of her jacket when she heard gurgling sounds from the bed. She turned to find Lucy playing with her feet in the air.

  “Hello, Miss Sleepyhead!” She walked to the bed and gathered Lucy up into her arms.

  “Ne-na,” She was greeted with a cherubic smile.

  “Are you ready to go out with Papa?”

  She nodded. “Want Higgy.”

  “Of course you do. Let us change you and we will go and find your papa.”

  Chapter 6

  He waited for Miss Foster to return with Lucy so they could set out for the village. There was something familiar about Miss Foster that nagged at him, but he couldn't quite place it. He had chalked it up to her similarities to Christine, but after today he was wondering if there was more to her. The conversation with his mother in London had played in his head over and over. Apples and oranges, she'd said.

  As he considered marriage to Helena, he hoped to God that his mother was right about Miss Foster. He still wondered about the lady in the alcove, but even if he were to return to London he would be looking for a needle in a haystack.

  No, Miss Foster was here, and Lucy adored her. She also liked books, so they had that in common. He would remember to show her the library soon. He must let Christine go and move on, for everyone's sake.

  “Pa-pa!”

  “Hello, darling. Did you have a nice rest?” He looked up to see his daughter in the arms of Miss Foster. It seemed so natural, felt so right.

  “Yes. Want Higgy.”

  He chuckled. “Very well, let us be off then.” They made their way to the stables. He assisted Miss Foster onto a beautiful chestnut mare, and handed Lucy to her. Once he had mounted his own gelding, he reached for Lucy.

  “No, ride with Ne-Na.”

  Miss Foster was trying not to laugh. He shrugged slightly.

  “Is that acceptable, Miss Foster?

  “Perfectly.”

  “Very well then.” They turned their horses and set off toward the village at a canter. He heard Miss Foster whisper to Lucy, “You had best ride with your papa on the way home. You would not want to hurt his feelings. He needs your snuggles too.”

  He had to look away to hide his smile. Little did she know how pleased he was that Lucy liked her.

  They pulled up in front of a small cottage. “This is where Miss Higgins’ mother resides. I will enquire if it is acceptable for us to visit.”

  “Perhaps I should be the one to do so, sir. There could still be contagion in the house,” she reminded.

  “I suppose you are correct, Miss Foster. I had not considered such since the other servants are improved, but Miss Higgins was the last to fall ill.” He dismounted and helped her and Lucy down. Helena reassured Lucy and walked toward the door.

  “Wait, Miss Foster!”

  She stopped and turned. He was fumbling in his saddle bag for something, while Lucy was plucking some flowers from the bush near the gate. He walked over to her with his arms full.

  “I almost forgot. Cook sent these things for Miss Higgins. Please give them to her with our compliments.”

  “That is lovely, sir. You thought of everything. Tea, honey, lemons, biscuits, herbs...”

  “I can only lay claim to the honey suggestion. Cook did the rest.”

  “Either way, it is just what she will need whilst lying in the sickbed. There is nothing better than honey and lemon tea when you are under the weather.” She smiled and turned back toward the cottage. She was greeted and welcomed inside. Mrs. Higgins waved to the Earl, but closed the door behind Miss Foster. He hoped that was not a bad sign. He went over to help Lucy pick flowers while they waited.

  It was some time before they saw her emerge from the house. Lucy immediately ran to her side.

  “Ne-na! I want Higgy!” She held up her arms to be picked up.

  “I'm sorry, love. Higgy is still very ill. In fact, I think your papa should send for the doctor.”

  “Yes, indeed. We can stop by his house next.” His face held concern, but he did not ask any questions.

  They soberly mounted the horses, Lucy crying for Higgy.

  The doctor was found and sent on his way to Miss Higgins. They continued on their tour of the village, but a cloud of worry hung over them as they awaited news from the doctor. After visiting the tenants, they rode back toward the house, but took a trail by the sea. There they stopped and spread out a picnic lunch.

  “Forgive the simplicity, Miss Foster. I did not wish to impose too greatly on Cook, with all of her added responsibilities at the moment. But I was in desperate need of some time away from the sick room. Lucy and I often spend our afternoons here.”

  “This is perfect. I am not in need of seven courses at every meal. A simple repast does very nicely.”

  “I am thankful to hear it.” He began to peel an orange and handed slices to an eager Lucy. “Do you enjoy the sea, Miss Foster?”

  “I do. I find pleasure in any natural beauty. The sea in particular seems to cast a spell over me. The music of the waves seduces and lures you into its mystery. The surface does not give clue to what hides beneath its depths, nor the power of its fury. It can transform a sunset, and also deposit treasures to find by sunrise.” She looked out over the eerily calm waters as she spoke.

  “I could not have described it so eloquently had I tried, Miss Foster.” He was beginning to think he had wronged her greatly indeed.

  “Pa-pa? Water, pease.” Lucy pointed toward the water.

  The little girl had finished eating and had tired of searching through the rocks for shells. She had also removed her stockings and boots and was putting her feet in the water. She giggled as the waves came over her feet.

  “Forgive me, Miss Foster. Lucy and I are also in the habit of playing in the waves.”

  “There is nothing to forgive. In fact, I might join you. There is nothing I like better than the waves splashing my feet.” She began to remove her slippers and he had to look away. She was astonishing him at every turn today.

  They played and jumped with abandon, but their clothes became wet when a large wave surprised them and swept their feet out from under them. The water was much colder when one’s clothes were soaked. Reluctantly, they packed up the picnic and wrapped up in blankets before returning to the house.

  Lucy was growing tired again, though she showed little effects from her illness. She was happy to rest on her papa’s shoulder for the return.

  When they
arrived, the house was in an entirely different state than which they left it. The luggage cart with Lady Rutherford's maid and luggage had arrived, and several of the servants had returned with the threat of measles past.

  They entered the door and a jolly-looking butler greeted them.

  “Biggleston! I'm delighted to have you back.”

  “I'm delighted to be back, my lord.” The plump retainer looked to the wet and dishevelled guest.

  “Biggleston, this is Miss Foster.”

  “Miss Foster,” he bowed. “A letter has come for you by messenger.”

  “A letter?” she asked in confusion.

  He held out a salver holding the suspicious missive. She picked it up curiously and opened it up. She hastily read the words and mumbled with disgust under her breath.

  “Is something amiss, Miss Foster?” Rutherford asked with Lucy asleep on his shoulder.

  She looked up in surprise as if she had forgotten anyone else was in the room.

  “No, no. It’s quite all right. Shall I put Lucy down for you?”

  “I can manage, thank you.” He smiled and went to lay his daughter in her cot.

  ~*~

  My dearest, fairest, loveliest Helen,

  You cannot imagine my horror when I learned you had left town without a word. The anxieties I was put through! However, I was reassured by your parents that you are well, and that your kind soul is engaged in helping care for a sick babe. I cannot care for it. However, until we are wed I cannot ask you to cease putting yourself at risk.

  This brings me to my point. I wish to wed immediately and have taken the liberty of procuring a special licence. This errand has delayed me, or I should have been with you at this very moment. Do not fret. I shall be there as soon as possible.

  Yours, etc.,

  Waverly

  “The presumptuous, pompous, arrogant, insufferable, delusional donkey’s arse!” She balled the missive and threw it furiously into the grate of the parlour she had retreated to for privacy. “He does not even know my name!”

  “I hope the vehement redundancy was not for my benefit,” the Earl said dryly from the doorway.

  “Oh, sir! I beg your pardon! I did not realise I had company.”

  “My apologies for not announcing myself. I had ordered tea to warm us.”

  “Nonsense. It is your home.” She should change her wet skirts, she supposed. But she was too vexed.

  “Is something the matter?”

  “Ne...Waverly.”

  “Pardon?” For a moment he thought…maybe...a thought occurred to him. What did he have to lose?

  “He does do Nero to perfection.”

  She stopped dead in her tracks. She flushed from the top down. Could it be true? The mystery lady from the alcove was one in the same, in his parlour before him at this moment.

  “I did not mean to embarrass you, Miss Foster. I find that I quite agree with your assessment.”

  “How long have you known it was me?” she said quietly, still looking down.

  “I only just now suspected when you hesitated over his name. Though when I consider other times, I should have known sooner.”

  “Please forget that I ever said such. It is hardly a flattering revelation of my character.”

  “I disagree. I find it rather endearing.”

  She made an uncertain sound that resembled a squeak.

  “I only fear what character I resemble to you. Perhaps you may enlighten me sometime, when you are not in distress. Now what has he done to disturb you so?”

  “Waverly has procured a special licence and is on his way to rescue me!”

  “I was unaware you were in need of rescuing,” he said, not masking his irritation.

  “Precisely! He refuses to take no for an answer.”

  “He has not tried anything...”

  “No, nothing of that nature yet.”

  “Does your father know of his intentions?”

  “Yes, therein lies part of the problem. My father gave the Duke leave to court me but required he gain my consent for a betrothal.”

  “And he understood that to be an agreement?”

  “Apparently.”

  “That would explain his fury when you were with me.”

  “The insufferable fool thinks he may have or buy whatever he wishes. He never bothered to ask me.”

  “You have made your refusal known to him?”

  “As clear as I possibly can, and in as many languages as I can. Obviously, the word no is neither taught nor understood by dukes. Have you any ideas? I beg of you, I would welcome any suggestions!”

  “Short of marriage to someone else, I fear he shall burden you until you consent. ‘Tis his way. He is not known for being a good loser, either.”

  “My father knows my thoughts. He could have dispelled with this ridiculous notion, instead of encouraged it!”

  “Do not be harsh on Sir James. I would wager he made an attempt.”

  “Regardless, Waverly is on his way and means to harass me here!”

  “There is a simple solution.”

  She looked up eager for his remedy. “There is?”

  “You could marry me.”

  She stared at him as if he had spoken in another language. She had thought he might mean to ask her at some point, but not yet. She was unprepared, for she had not completely sorted her feelings on the matter yet.

  “M-marry you?”

  “I know it is hasty. I had hoped for us to know one another better before asking you. But seeing you with Lucy firmed my resolve.”

  “Sir, I appreciate the kind offer, but as much as I adore Lucy, I cannot marry you for her benefit.” She dropped a hasty curtsy and left the room.

  Helena chose to walk away from the house through the terraced gardens toward the woodlands. She was not prepared to meet Waverly yet. He would be there directly, she had no doubt. What could she say to convince him this time? She plopped ungracefully on a marble bench amongst the trees and looked toward the sky for divine intervention.

  And Rutherford. How she wished he wanted her for different reasons! She had come to want to hear those words very much, but he had spoken them not out of desire for her in the way she needed.

  She groaned out loud when she heard a carriage roaring down the drive. She hadn't enough time to compose an appropriate tirade worthy of Nero. However, it wasn't fair to leave Rutherford to deal with her problem, though she would not mind a chivalrous declaration of his love for Nero’s benefit. She giggled at the thought of the reserved Elusive Earl down on bended knee in proclamation before the masses. In a toga. No, that was certainly not his style.

  She rose reluctantly and went to face Nero. She could hear him shouting from the open windows as she drew near to the stone house.

  ~*~

  Geoffrey had rushed his fences yet again. The worst thing was, he had known what her response would be. Of course she would not marry him for a child's sake! She had no need to do so. He was terrible at expressing himself, but he would have to tell her he wanted her for her, and for Lucy. He would not pretend that seeing her with Lucy had not opened his eyes. She was nothing like Christine, she was much more. But would she believe him in time?

  And now he would have to deal with Waverly at any moment. He was not jesting when he said little short of her being married to someone else would stop him. He would do his best. It was not long before he heard the rush of hoof beats and wheels coming hurriedly down the drive, followed by the stomping of feet moving with purpose. He took a deep breath and braced himself as the Duke burst into the room.

  “Where is she?”

  “Waverly. To what do we owe the honour?”

  “I believe you know why I am here.”

  “She will not have you. She says she has made this plain to you.”

  “She has done no such thing!”

  “You may take my word for it. I heard those words directly from her mouth not half an hour past.”

  “You only want her for
yourself.”

  “That I do not deny, but it is irrelevant to the fact that she does not wish to marry you.”

  “Utter nonsense. Find her for me, so I may remove her at once.”

  “Waverly, I warn you, she is under my protection while at Reston.”

  “Ha! At least I offer her an honourable connection. I am willing to overlook whatever may have occurred against her wishes.”

  “I should call you out for that, Waverly. You know very well I mean no disrespect to the lady.”

  “Then what do you mean by bringing her here under the pretence of caring for your daughter alone?”

  “She did not come alone. Lady Rutherford is here to chaperone and look after her grandchild.”

  “I still wish to hear from Miss Foster’s own lips that she has not come to harm and has no desire to be rescued!”

  “Very well, Duke. You can see that I am unharmed. And I can most assuredly say that I have no desire to be rescued.”

  Both men turned to find Miss Foster standing at the door, leaning against it as if she had been watching the whole scene with amusement. The Duke rushed over, took her hands in his and planted kisses on both.

  “Fairest Helen.” He surveyed her dirtied, soaked appearance with disdain, but decided against speaking on it. “Is it true? You mean to tell me you wish to stay here?”

  “I do.”

  “May I have a word with you in private?”

  She looked towards Lord Rutherford, who was staring out the window with his hands behind his back.

  “You may say anything you wish in front of Lord Rutherford. I have no secrets to keep.” She pulled her hands back out of his grasp.

  “Very well. He tells me you mean to refuse my offer of marriage.”

  “That is correct.”

  “How can that be? I was very marked in my attentions toward you.”

  “And I, sir, was very candid in my refusal of them.”

  He paced around the room, brushing his hand through his hair as if he could not fathom her not wanting him. It was incomprehensible.