‘He must have been deeply troubled by the rift between him and his father. Why did you go to sea? Why didn’t you go into business with your father?’
‘He never encouraged me to do that—although I became involved in transporting his cargoes to their destination. My father was of the opinion that a man should choose his own way in life the way he had done, that it should not be dictated by the past. He realised he didn’t want to go on doing things in the same old way they had been done for generations. He wanted his freedom. He had a carefree attitude to life—unfortunately, he didn’t have much of a head for business. When he died I realised I’d inherited a mountain of debts and unfortunately the creditors weren’t going to let me off the hook. I managed to pay them off when I sold the business.’
‘Is that when you decided to come here—to Rockwood Park?’
He nodded. ‘Amelia, who is the most important thing in my life, needed taking care of. I couldn’t do that unless I sold up and came to Rockwood Park. It has turned out to be her salvation.’
‘Your grandfather told me how happy he is to have you both here.’
‘He is. Growing up in Charleston, I was always interested in the sea and ships. I learned first-hand about all things nautical and about the lands that could be reached. The letters from my grandfather kept on coming and I found I could no longer ignore them or what was mine by right. Where Amelia was concerned, I had to get her away from Charleston, to make sure her position was secure. She had lost everything—our parents, the man she thought she loved and her child. She believed she had nothing else to live for and I was afraid she would try ending her life again. Eventually I brought her here and left her in the care of my grandfather. Afterwards I returned to Charleston. There was a great deal I had to do there that could not be done overnight. Afterwards I set sail for England for good.’
‘And I have been a distraction you could have done without.’
‘A beautiful distraction, Lucy. Thankfully, with patience and loving care, Amelia is slowly coming back to life and becoming more like her old self. But there are times when she thinks of Barrington. I can see it in her eyes.’
‘Such experiences are bound to have left their mark. What you did was a huge undertaking on your part, I can see that.’ Lucy felt a wave of pity for Christopher, but she also felt admiration for him. None of the situation he had faced had been his doing and everything he had done afterwards had been for his sister’s good. She could imagine the carefree young man who, with his father’s blessing, had gone to sea. After all that had happened to him, these days he was anything but carefree.
She found herself wondering what kind of woman his mother had been to have made his father love her so much he had forfeited his inheritance. She had to have been a very special woman for him to have done that. ‘Is this what your father would have wanted for you?’
‘He always told me that it would be my decision and mine alone. He might have turned his back on his inheritance but by the laws of English entailment he still held the title until he died, when it was passed on to me.’
‘And did you not choose to use it?’
‘No. It was of little use to me in Charleston. My business associates were more interested in the amount of their merchandise I could ship than what title I hold in England. I am not impressed by titles and the pretences of society.’
Having reached the summer house, they went inside and sat looking out over the parkland, watching a herd of deer grazing among the trees.
‘I suppose now you’ve decided to accept your inheritance you’ll spend most of your time here at Rockwood Park,’ Lucy commented, letting her eyes wander over the rich rural landscape. ‘Although you’ll have to go London sometimes.’
‘I will? And why is that?’
‘To enter Parliament. Isn’t that what peers of the realm do—enter Parliament as they do university and gentlemen’s clubs? It all seems very grand to me.’ She turned her head and smiled up at him. ‘We learned all about it at the academy.’
‘Did you? And what else did they teach you at the academy?’
‘That King George III has lapsed into incurable madness and his son, the Prince of Wales, the Regent, leads a profligate life. Miss Brody explained that George III and his Queen set a standard of decorum and domestic virtue, but that their court was a very dull place to be—much different to that of their son’s.’
Christopher smiled broadly. ‘Miss Brody was right—although I’m amazed such things were discussed so openly. As soon as the old King was struck down with madness and fastened into his strait waistcoat, the Prince of Wales took to wearing corsets and the ladies to shedding their petticoats. There are those who say the country is falling into a decline in moral standards—if not the onset of national decadence.’
‘I was of the opinion that the English aristocracy has always been a profligate lot, who has indulged in loose living and has never ceased to do what it likes and cares only for its own whims. Why—after listening to the loose comments bandied about at the Skeffington ball, and the occasional comment uttered by the servants when I stayed at your house, it would appear you enjoy a certain reputation yourself,’ she said teasingly, glancing up at him obliquely.
Christopher’s mouth curved in a smile, his eyes warm as he gazed down at her from beneath hooded lids. ‘If, during the occasions I have been in London, I have acquired a certain reputation, I did not look for it and certainly did not enjoy it.’
Lucy shrugged, swallowing down a giggle. ‘Whatever the case, I am sure at some time that you have kept a mistress. All men seem to do that as it it’s the fashionable thing to do.’
Christopher’s gaze narrowed and slid to her seemingly innocent face. ‘You are well informed, Lucy, about gentlemen’s behaviour. Did Miss Brody tell you that, too?’
Her eyes opened wide, mischief dancing in their dark depths. ‘Of course not. Miss Brody is too much of a lady to indulge in tittle-tattle. But I do have ears and when a lot of girls are thrown together, then they talk about such things. But it is no secret that gentlemen have mistresses. Do you like children, Christopher?’
He hesitated a fraction of a second, perplexed by her question. ‘In all honesty I’ve given them little thought. Why do you ask?’
‘Because since you are the last in line, don’t you think you should? I mean, should anything happen to you and there’s no one to come after you, this place that has belonged to the Wildings for generations would have to be sold off, wouldn’t it? It would be a great shame if that happened.’
Standing up, Christopher leaned his arm against the wall and looked out at his domain. ‘That’s what would happen.’
Lucy went to stand beside him. ‘Look at it, Christopher. This is yours. You can’t let that happen. Your ancestors would rise up and condemn you for it—or turn in their graves, whatever it is they do.’
Turning his head and looking down at her, he said with mild amusement, ‘You’re putting the horse before the cart, Lucy. Before I consider any offspring, I have to find myself a wife.’
‘Of course you do,’ she said, a puckish smile touching her lips. ‘Why not marry one of your mistresses?’
Christopher stifled a grin at the complete absence of guile on her lovely, upturned face. ‘Gentlemen do not marry their mistresses, Lucy.’
‘Why—I cannot for the life of me see why not. If a man considers a woman suitable to take to his bed, why not marry her?’ She laughed outright when he looked at her as if he couldn’t believe his ears, staring at her in amused amazement.
‘Forgive me if I decline to answer your question, young lady. I think we will drop the subject.’
‘Oh, dear,’ she retorted, continuing to smile. ‘In which case I am beginning to think you are a lost cause.’
Thinking she was quite incorrigible, Christopher relaxed and smiled down her, a teasing light in his eyes as he turned th
e tables on her. ‘Why, what is this, Lucy? Are you offering by any chance?’ She was really only an American miss with no more knowledge of the world and of men than a schoolgirl.
Completely flustered by his question, Lucy laughed nervously. ‘Why—I—of course not.’ She studied him intently, her eyes alight with curiosity and caution, and the dawning of understanding. ‘If you weren’t the Duke of Rockwood in waiting, I would say that in other words you are married to your ship.’
He grinned. ‘And I would say you are quite right. I’ve spent many days and nights alone at sea, with just my crew for company, and it was a sad day when I had to let it go. What would you like to do with the rest of your life, Lucy, if you were not awaiting your godmother to come and whisk you away to goodness knows where?’
‘What can a woman do with her life? Men can do whatever they want, but if women are not wives, if they are without means, then what are their hopes? Domestic service is the only thing open to them.’
‘You’re quite wrong there, Lucy. A clever woman can do almost anything she likes. Women as well as men can be as free as they choose to be.’
‘In an ideal world, perhaps, but this is not an ideal world.’
‘Sadly, no, but you do not have to worry about that. I imagine your inheritance is quite substantial.’
‘Yes, I imagine it will be. I find it hard to forgive what Sofia did to me—and Mr Barrington. The easing of the fear that has held me since Mr Barrington’s attack has lessened, but it has not gone away.’
‘He cannot reach you here, Lucy.’
‘I know. He has no claim on me now. I intend to put it behind me and get on with my life, but I can’t run from it.’
Christopher noted the anxiety in her eyes which told him she was more worried than she had led him to believe. A cold chill spread through his body. She looked so young and fragile. Tilting her chin up to his face, he looked down at her with gravity.
‘I cannot blame you for being fearful, Lucy. It is not irrational, but it can be overcome if you try. You cannot keep looking over your shoulder.’
‘No, but I won’t always have you to protect me.’ She spoke quietly, with feeling.
His finger was still beneath her chin, her eyes large and luminous as they held his.
‘You will soon have your godmother’s protection, but until then you have me.’
‘Yes,’ she breathed, moving closer to him, turning her face up to his, her lips moist and partly open.
Unable to resist doing so, Christopher’s mouth settled on hers. Her lips opened like a flower beneath his own, her warm, sweet breath entering his mouth. He kissed her tenderly, but then his senses started to flee and his breathing quickened and he deepened his kiss. Dear Lord, what was he doing? Kissing her and loving it. It had to stop.
With great effort he released her lips. Her eyes were half closed, slumberous, her lips moist and full. It would be so easy to take advantage of her, here in this summer house, to lay her down and make love to her. But he couldn’t—it would make him no better that Barrington. On that thought he took her hand and kissed it.
‘Come, we’d better get back to the house. It will soon be lunch time and Grandfather is a stickler for punctuality.’
They walked together, neither of them having much to say after their kiss, but Christopher was very much aware of her presence, very much aware that the kiss had brought about a subtle change in their relationship. Because she was not the kind of sophisticated, worldly woman he usually made love to it made her more alluring, more desirable. She was nothing like the glamorous, experienced women who knew how to please him, women who were mercenary and hellbent on self-gratification, whose beds he sought only to leave the moment his ardour was spent. Lucy was not yet awakened to the ways of men.
He recognised something in her expression, something joyous, yet reverent. Her gaze was warm and gentle, at the same time vivid and urgent. Her feelings shone luminously from her smiling face, and her mouth moved and lifted in its desire to be about something of which she was scarcely aware of. But Christopher knew and his heart lurched with the pain of it. He began to question his feelings for her, to take them apart and weigh them. He liked being with her, enjoying her immense enjoyment of every single moment of the time they spent together. She was fresh and alive and he was amazed by the gracious ease with which she conducted herself with ease with Amelia and the way she had effortlessly charmed his grandfather. Despite her youth, there was a natural sophistication about her that came from a lively wit and an active mind.
He was beginning to discover the whole tenor of his life was changing with his new status and with Lucy in it. Vivid beauty was moulded into every aspect of her face and there was something deep within her that made her glow like a flawless gem. Constant awareness of her presence kept him in a perpetual state of delightful confusion and he caught himself up short. Now was not the time for him to indulge in youthful dreams. It could not continue. The time had come for him to put some distance between the two of them, but how to do it without hurting her?
CHAPTER SEVEN
Lucy was in a state of enchantment, lost in the blissful and blessed state into which Christopher had cast her when he had kissed her in the garden. Nothing could steal the joy, the silent glow of rapture, which had been with her ever since. He was responsible for putting the roses in her cheeks and the stars in her eyes. Though Christopher had not yet said the words, it would lead, she knew, to the fulfilment of every thought and dream she had had of him since they had met. She could hardly believe that a worldly and sophisticated man should see qualities in her he found admirable. He enchanted her to the point where she could not think of anything else and she waited with fast-beating heart and anticipation for the day when he would tell her he felt the same.
He had come as close to admitting that he cared for her as he dared without putting himself in a position where she might expect him to make a choice. But she wanted him, all of him, and she could not believe her good fortune that he should find her worthwhile, for was that not a sign of his respect? He had taken no further liberties with her other than the kiss, which was right and proper with a woman he intended, surely, to marry. He had talked of her going away when her godmother came, but she didn’t want to go, not now, not ever. She must convince him how much he meant to her. She would use all her wiles and tactics to keep him.
Climbing out of bed and loosely slipping her robe over her nightdress, she left her room, flitting along the corridors like a sprite until she came to Christopher’s door. Casting a surreptitious glance along the corridor to make sure no one was observing her, then taking a deep breath, she swallowed her reserve and her pride, and with an unsteady hand she knocked gently on the door.
It was opened almost immediately. ‘What is it...?’ Attired in breeches, his shirt open to the waist, Christopher stopped abruptly, arrested in midsentence. ‘Sweet heaven! Lucy! What are you doing here?’ He breathed the words as he stood there, staring at her.
‘I—I wanted to see you.’
For the space of half a dozen heartbeats, he didn’t move. Then slowly he stood aside and allowed her to pass through before closing the door and propping his shoulder against the door frame, as if he needed the support. It was a long moment before he slowly let out his breath. ‘I suppose,’ he said softly, ‘you’re going to tell me what this is all about.’
Lucy returned his gaze, wide-eyed and uncertain. This was going to be much harder than she had expected. ‘I—I have come to keep you company.’ She could feel herself flushing. ‘When you said you were too much alone when you were on your ship with just your crew for company, I thought you might be in need of some—female company.’
Christopher took a moment to digest her words, his eyes never leaving her face. ‘Let me see if I’ve got this right. You are here to provide me with your company—for how long?’
His bold scrutiny caused Lu
cy’s modesty to chafe. With her heart thumping in her breast and fighting to quell her rising panic because she knew she’d made a gross mistake in coming to his room, her colour deepened, but she was committed now. She could not retreat. ‘Why—as—as long as you like.’
‘And how do you propose we pass the time?’
‘I don’t know. I was hoping you would tell me.’ She bit her lip in consternation. She was making a terrible mess of this and Christopher wasn’t helping her. Her gaze went past him to a dresser across the room, on which stood a decanter of what she presumed was brandy and an empty glass. ‘Perhaps you would let me pour you a brandy.’ She went to the dresser. She could feel his eyes following her. When she had poured him a full measure of the brandy, she carried the glass to him.
He accepted her offering silently and raised it to his lips, drinking deep and watching her all the while.
‘Will you not join me? It’s impolite to let a man drink alone.’
‘No—thank you. I don’t like brandy.’
‘But I insist.’
Uncertain what to do next, Lucy looked up at hm, searching his features. There was a strange light in his eyes. It was not amusement she saw, nor was it anger. It was a coldness, she thought, and she wondered why.
Ignoring her remark that she disliked brandy, he held the glass to her lips and murmured, ‘Now it is your turn.’
She stubbornly took a quick sip of the brandy, realising he had expected her to refuse. The potent liquor burned a fiery trail all the way down to her stomach. Stepping away from him she shuddered, partly because of the unaccustomed spirits, mostly because of Christopher’s nearness.
* * *
Incredulous, Christopher continued to stare at her. She was oblivious to the sight she presented to him. The pure, sweet bliss of having her close spurred his heart. She was too damned lovely to be true. Her cheeks were a delectable pink and her hair formed a torrent of dark silk tresses, with adorable tendrils clinging and curling around her face. The very sight of her here in his rooms wrenched his vitals in a painful knot and the urge to pull her into his arms savaged his restraint. If she knew the full force of that emotion he held in check, she would tremble and seek the sanctuary of her room.
Harlequin Historical May 2021--Box Set 1 of 2 Page 35
