“That means I will need to leave here on Friday. I do not know when I will return.”
“Even better.”
Another long moment elapsed. “My aunt has a weak heart, Lucinda. While I am gone, I trust you will not upset her.”
Concerned, Lucinda spoke without thinking. “Could she die?”
A flicker of satisfaction gleamed, and vanished. “The doctors have predicted her death for the past eight years.”
“So, she is stronger than they think.”
“No. She just has an indomitable will to live.”
“Will she need special care? A nurse?” Lucinda suddenly realized that instead of fighting with him, she felt anxious to learn how she might help care for his aunt. She crossed her arms and sat back in her chair. “You are a clever man.”
He smiled. “Aunt Sophie refuses a nurse. And Mrs. Beatty assures me a good doctor lives in the village.” Softly, he said, “So. You agree, then.”
How neatly he had cornered her. “I would never harm a frail old lady,” she said abruptly.
“But you wanted me to believe you would.”
She looked away. “Yes.”
“Why?”
“I would be happy to be candid with you, Mr. Montclair. But I ask for equal frankness in return.”
He settled back. A wary look darkened his gaze. “What do you wish to know, Lady Lucinda?”
So formal. Bluntly, she said, “What are you running from? What are you hiding?”
He did not answer.
“How can I trust you, Mr. Montclair, if you will not answer my questions?” It had been worth a try, but she hadn’t truly believed he would reveal his secrets.
That black gaze shuttered. “I am fully qualified to be here. That is all you need to know.”
She blew out a breath. “Check.”
“As in chess.”
“Yes. We each possess something the other wants. For me, I want to know if I can trust you completely. Provide me with the answers I require, and I will promise to behave myself with your aunt.”
“Already I know you will, Lucy.”
She frowned. “I have promised nothing.”
He smiled. “Your tender heart betrayed you. You are worried about Aunt Sophie, and you haven’t met her yet. I have full confidence that you will behave like the lady your father raised you to be.”
How had he won so easily, yet again? Frustration surged, and she jumped to her feet. “Good evening, Mr. Montclair,” she snapped.
He rose with unhurried grace and offered a short bow. “Good evening, Lucy. Perhaps tomorrow morning we can begin on the account ledgers.”
Lucinda glared. Lips thinned with irritation, she spun and walked fast out of the room. That arrogant, obnoxious man. How dare he trick her into admitting compliance with his wishes!
Her goal to frustrate him out of hand was not proceeding according to plan.
Upstairs, Effie helped her change into a long white night rail, and then, at last, she was alone. Lucinda sat on the window seat and stared into the night.
Vexing Riel may prove more difficult than she’d thought. Her plan to be such a thorn in his side that he’d throw in the towel and gallop off in a fury wasn’t going so well. She’d continue to try, but had doubts about its final outcome.
Unfortunately, she didn’t see Riel giving up—not on anything. In fact, she unhappily suspected he was the sort of man who, after setting his mind to something, persevered no matter the storms that blocked his path. He was a man who accomplished his goals.
Depression licked through her spirit.
What should she do? If she failed in her quest, what would happen to Ravensbrook? To herself? What sort of a man was Riel Montclair? True, he had a dark secret, but without proof of an unknown, evil deed, or proof that he planned to steal from Ravensbrook, of what benefit were those suspicions to accomplishing her goal? What could she do?
Her gaze traced the outlines of the far trees across the meadow. How she longed to gallop into the darkness and leave all of her grief and cares behind. To feel the cool breeze on her face, to hear the thundering hooves and see the ground flying by… What joy, what freedom, to embrace the wild hope that she could truly escape…perhaps to a faerie land, as she’d imagined as a child, and live a whole new life. One free of worries and responsibility, and instead filled with bright adventure and love.
The clump of Riel’s boots in the hall rudely wrenched Lucinda from her fanciful, half-remembered dreams.
No faerie lands awaited her. And it was too dark to ride. The full moon remained days away. So that temporary escape would be denied her, as well.
Unhappily, she climbed into bed.
That black-eyed pirate must go. Tomorrow, she would do her best to vex Riel at every opportunity. It would prove to be an exhausting day, for she must also get through her father’s funeral, too. Not to mention welcome Riel’s aunt to Ravensbrook.
Lucinda pulled the covers over her head. Tears seeped from her eyes. Somehow, she would accomplish her goal. She must. Everything would be all right. It would.
* * * * *
After breakfast the next morning, Lucinda asked Mrs. Beatty if she had aired out a suite of rooms on the first floor for Riel’s aunt. Of course the efficient housekeeper had already accomplished this necessary task, so Lucinda reluctantly next went in search of Riel.
He had mentioned that he’d show her the ledgers this morning. Much as she would prefer to avoid him, Lucinda girded up her courage to set her unsavory plan in motion. In truth, she did want to understand the ledgers, so she could take control of Ravensbrook’s financial obligations as soon as Riel departed.
She found Riel in her father’s study, sitting at his desk, studying an array of open ledgers. For a second, she observed him before announcing her presence. He wore all black today, and it made his large frame appear even broader in the small study. Certainly, his sheer physical presence and size eclipsed the memory of her father sitting in the same seat. Her father had been slim like herself, of a medium build, and with thinning gray hair and spectacles. How she missed him.
A tight knot gathered in her throat. Today she would bury him. He would never again sit in this study. Only this man would, until she married—or until she somehow banished him for good.
She cleared her throat. “Mr. Montclair. Hard at work, I see.”
He looked up and rubbed at the frown between his brows. After the barest hesitation, he stood. “Lady Lucinda.” His gaze ran down her black dress—the same one she’d worn yesterday—and flicked back up, over the golden curls perched atop her head. “Good morning.”
“Such formality,” she said in mock surprise. “Finally, you pretend proper manners.”
A smile glimmered. “Sit down, Lucy. Here.” One broad, tanned hand pulled a straight-backed, softly cushioned Queen Anne chair next to his. “We can begin your lesson.”
He’d called her Lucy again. However, she knew the hopelessness of arguing with him about it. Instead, she’d pick fresh battles; battles she was certain to win.
“Have you forgotten all etiquette, Mr. Montclair?” She cast the proffered chair a dubious glance. “It would be most unseemly for us to sit so close together.”
He shot her a look of amusement. “You may sit on the other side of the desk, if you prefer. But I do not recommend it, unless you can read upside down.”
Lucinda swept her skirts aside and tugged the chair a foot clear of his. “That is not what I meant, Baron. If you hadn’t spent so many years at sea, perhaps you would know the basic proprieties.”
A smile flickered across his straight mouth. “Perhaps you would be so good to teach me.”
She met his steady, amused gaze, and a disturbed flush warmed her cheeks. “I am sure your dearth of knowledge is too abysmal to remedy.” She glanced pointedly at the ledgers. “May we begin?”
Riel slid a ledger before her. “I believe I understand how your father set up his books. Mine are not too different. Look…”
He launched into an explanation of debits and credits and payments and income that left Lucinda’s head reeling. Clearly, Riel relished the task before him, for he spoke with passion. It also became evident that he possessed a quick, precise mind.
Lucinda was sharp—she’d been one of the top students at Miss May’s School for Young Ladies—but this was too much, too fast. Her mind soon glazed into a state of panicked bewilderment. She didn’t like it. She was in over her head, and she didn’t understand what he was talking about.
The only thing she grasped was that simple addition and subtraction seemed to be involved—thankfully, a skill she’d mastered. But as far as setting aside monies here and there, and totaling them all up so they didn’t exceed the budget…it was too much.
“Stop,” she said faintly.
Riel glanced at her. A frown twitched his brows together.
With a shaky hand, Lucinda closed one of the books. “That is enough for today.” She made to get up.
“Lucy?” His warm, calloused fingers curled around her wrist, gently stopping her flight. “What is wrong?”
Tears swam in her eyes. “Are you trying to confuse me on purpose?”
“No.” He appeared genuinely taken aback. “Perhaps I have gone too fast. Sit down, and we will start again.
Lucinda pulled her wrist free and edged away from her chair. “I think not. I…I think perhaps I’m not ready to learn right now.”
“I am sorry.” Now he stood, too. “Perhaps I was mistaken, thinking you’ve helped your father with the books before?”
Drat it, a tear hovered on her lashes, ready to plummet down her cheek. “I have never seen a ledger in my life.” The admission cost her a great deal of pride.
“I am sorry,” he said again. “Please sit. We will start again, but slower this time.”
With reluctance, she slid back into the chair. Clasping her fingers together in her lap, she leaned forward to pay close attention to every word Riel said.
To her relief, first he explained what the different lines and columns meant on each page. From there, he taught her rudimentary accounting principles, so that when the clock chimed an hour past, Lucinda was surprised to discover she was beginning to understand…at least a little…what the ledgers were all about.
“That’s enough for now.” Riel closed the books. “Aunt Sophie will arrive soon. You will wish to refresh yourself.”
“Of course. Thank you for being so patient with me.” The words of appreciation escaped before Lucinda could censor them.
Riel’s dark eyes met hers. “You are welcome, Lucy.”
He was much closer than she’d realized, and faint warmth stained her cheeks. His arm brushed hers as he gathered up the books. Her heart beat faster, and she watched his broad shoulders shift as he put the books to the side. Rays of sunlight filtered through the lace curtains and cast the blunt angles and planes of his face into fascinating textures of tan and bronze. Riel was a handsome man.
Hastily, she gained her feet and swept for the door.
“Lucy.” His deep voice stroked like velvet over her jittery nerve endings.
Affecting a calm nonchalance, she turned back.
“If you are interested, I will continue to teach you the books each morning until I leave. I do not think, however, that you will be ready to keep the accounts while I am gone.”
“Mr. Chase won’t be happy to get the job back.”
“You can learn from him. Or, if you prefer, you can wait until I return, and I will teach you myself.”
Lucinda licked her lips. “I will speak to Mr. Chase.”
“As you wish.”
She speedily made her exit and hurried upstairs. What was wrong with her? For the entire morning she’d lost sight of her mission to vex him at every point possible. Instead, she’d docilely sat beside him, and then even thanked him nicely at the end. Even worse, she’d noticed—for the briefest second—that he was a handsome man!
He was old. Ten years older than herself. And her unwanted guardian.
She couldn’t trust him, she reminded herself. He still possessed that deep, dark secret he hid from the Royal Navy. A man like him shouldn’t be within a furlong of Ravensbrook…let alone perusing its ledgers, or discovering the breadth of the estate’s wealth.
No. She still must evict him, and speedily.
Then why did her will seemed weakened in this regard? Lucinda rang for Effie. Riel was proving much more dangerous than she’d ever imagined. Did he possess charm? Was that it? Whatever the case, she would not succumb to his wiles like her father had.
Resolve strengthened, Lucinda sat quietly while Effie helped her freshen up for Aunt Sophie’s arrival. This afternoon, after his aunt was settled, she’d set Riel on his ear again. He must go, and soon. Before it was too late.
* * * * *
A black carriage arrived just before lunch, and Lucinda swept down the steps to welcome Riel’s great-aunt to Ravensbrook. Riel stood at her side as the driver opened the carriage door.
A frail older lady appeared, bone thin and with white hair scraped into a loose bun. A network of fine lines creased into her cheeks, and radiated out from her mouth and the corners of her eyes. She wore a pale blue gown of classic lines, and white gloves. A shaky hand accepted Riel’s arm and helping hand down.
Concern again rose in Lucinda. It appeared that a stiff breeze might knock the older woman over. Was she strong enough to be outdoors? Had traveling been a good idea, considering her health?
An older, sturdier looking woman descended next from the carriage. Presumably Sophie’s maid.
“Lucinda,” Riel’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “I would like to introduce you to my great-aunt, Lady Sophia.”
Although his aunt rummaged in her small clutch reticule at the moment, Lucinda said softly, “I am so happy to meet you.”
Sophia extracted a dainty, beautifully embroidered handkerchief and looked up. Startlingly bright blue eyes twinkled at Lucinda. “So happy to meet you too, my dear. I am so sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you, Lady Sophia.”
“Please call me Aunt Sophie. It will make everything simpler.” Birdlike hands clasped Lucinda’s own. The pressure felt firm, to Lucinda’s surprise, and a measure of relief eased into her soul. Sophie was stronger than she looked. And Lucinda could tell, just by looking into those bright eyes and her ready smile, that she was going to like Riel’s aunt.
She smiled. “I would be honored to call you Aunt Sophie.”
“Good. Now that that’s out of the way, I would love a small glass of lemonade, if you have it. The trip has parched me.”
“Was the trip long?” Lucinda asked.
As they all moved slowly toward the steps, Sophie relayed a few stories from her two day’s journey, lightly garnished with flashes of humor. Alarmingly, though, she gasped for breath by the time she gained Ravensbrook’s top step, and blue tinged her skin. She held tightly onto Riel’s arm and stood very still outside the front door, trying to catch her breath.
Anxiously, Lucinda hovered close by. “May I get something for you? A chair, perhaps?”
“Never mind me,” Sophie wheezed, but offered a ghost of a smile. “Need a minute.”
Her skin regained its normal pale hue within a matter of minutes, and then she prodded Riel’s arm, directing him to lead her inside. Amazingly, she took up the conversation right where she had left off. “I love your countryside immensely, Lucinda. My only quarrel is with the roosters who cackle at the first glimmer of dawn. Do you have chickens?”
Riel pulled out a chair at the dining table for his aunt.
Lucinda assured her that Ravensbrook did not have chickens nearby, and felt relieved that now the older lady appeared to be fine. She said, “The far reaches of the estate are used for farming, but you cannot see them from here. The forest provides privacy for Ravensbrook.”
“And beauty, as well. Do you ride often, Lucinda?”
“Whenever I get the chance.”
>
“I rode in horse shows when I was a girl. Genteel ones, of course, where we paraded in a circle with our horses groomed until they shone, and their tails braided and bows galore.” The old lady giggled. “I would have been just as happy to gallop over fences with the boys.”
“Aunt Sophie is not a conventional gentlewoman,” Riel said, with an affectionate smile.
Lucinda smiled, too. “Perhaps we will get along very well, then.”
Sophie’s bright gaze assessed her. “I am sure we will, child.”
Lucinda slid a look at Riel. He hadn’t yet had a chance to recount any of her outrageous behaviors to Sophie—such as searching his room for the solicitor’s letter. Would he? Somehow, she couldn’t bear for Sophie to look on her with disapproval.
Riel sipped wine, but when his gaze caught hers, a trace of amusement glimmered. Almost as if he’d guessed her thoughts. He would enjoy recounting her disgraceful conduct, of course, but would he? A faint frown pulled at Lucinda’s brows as she settled the napkin on her lap.
The first course arrived, along with Sophie’s lemonade and the hot water she had also requested. The older lady retrieved a small bag of tea leaves from her purse and stirred them into the hot water. After a few sips, she said, “Has my great-nephew been treating you well, Lucinda?”
For once at a loss for words, she glanced at Riel. “It has been an adjustment to have him here.”
“Tell the truth, Lucinda. You dislike me,” he said calmly, but still with that glimmer of amusement.
“Is that true?” Sophie seemed interested.
It was time to goad him, but gently. “He is rather high-handed. In point of fact, he has swept in, determined to take over my entire life.”
Sophie said nothing, but glanced at her nephew.
“I made a promise to your father that I will keep.”
“But happily you will be leaving soon. I hope for many such respites.”
Riel turned his attention to his aunt. “You see what Lucy thinks of me.”
The old lady divided a glance between the two of them. “I see very well, indeed.”
Lucinda wondered what that was supposed to mean. But she turned her attention back to Riel. Here was her opportunity to antagonize him still further, so he’d sail away, never to plague her again. However, when she opened her mouth to do so, she found she could not. It was bad enough she must act like a brat to Riel. It was quite another to do so before his aunt. One person thinking the worst of her was reprehensible; two would be unconscionable.
The Pirate's Desire Page 8
