But then, who cared what the toffs of the ton—or Lady Elizabeth’s ducal father, or the earl his uncle, the ‘King of the Lords’, thought of what he did? It was his life—his to remake.
He’d felt for so long like the old brown leaves scattered beside the lane he drove down, crumbling into nothingness as the new grass of spring grew through them. But maybe he was more like a skittering seed pod blown on the wind, just needing to reach fertile ground to take root.
Still, he’d be prudent not to make a premature offer he might later decide was unwise.
Besides, training the orphan would mean spending way too much time around Miss Theo.
Recalling her allure heated his simmering senses anew.
He could seduce her—he was sure of it. Contemplating the passion promised in that lush mouth, those vibrant eyes sent an anticipatory thrill through him.
Wise or not, he couldn’t seem to bury that fact that he wanted her. More intensely than he’d wanted a woman in a very long while.
If he couldn’t subdue the craving, maybe he should try to assuage it in a more acceptable way. He’d had mistresses before his engagement to Lady Elizabeth. If it would distract him from this frustrating desire for Miss Branwell, maybe he should consider setting up another.
He conjured up the image of a lush female in a diaphanous gown, her mouth in a seductive pout, her bosom covered with jewels and little else. Somehow, beside Theo Branwell’s fresh, straightforward appeal, such a woman seemed...overblown.
He uttered a curse, startling the horse he’d just turned down the drive to Bildenstone.
He had too much free time on his hands—that was part of the problem.
Now that he could manage more than sleeping half the day and lifting his head to sip some gruel, he needed something more challenging to occupy him.
He’d been with the army so long, he had trouble recalling the rhythm of his days before he’d become a soldier.
Blocking out the hunting and steeplechasing activities still too bitter to contemplate, he tried to remember. In the country, he’d been up early, he mused, consulting with his grooms, training horses, or travelling to fairs or farms to evaluate others he might wish to purchase. Studying bloodlines in the evening if alone, or socialising with like-minded friends. In town, he’d stop by Tattersall’s to check out the horses for sale, visit the tailor and bootmaker and haberdasher, pay calls by day and spend his evenings at dinners, balls or entertainments, charming the ladies.
Contemplating returning to most of these activities still evoked distaste. The only endeavour that called to him was working with horses.
Putting that thought away to consider later, he returned the tilbury to the stable and walked to the house.
Wilton met him at the entrance. ‘Some refreshment in the library, sir?’
‘Thank you, some ham and ale would be good,’ he said, pleased to find, after months of no appetite, that a morning of driving and walking about had left him both hungry and not too fatigued to eat.
* * *
He’d found his place again in Herodotus by the time Wilton knocked at the library door. Miss Branwell’s advice came back to him as he watched the man carry the tray to the table. To his chagrin, it did seem the elderly butler struggled to manage the heavy item, his thin frame bent back under its weight as he balanced it.
Deciding on the instant, he said, ‘Wilton, a word, if you please.’
‘Of course, Mr Ransleigh.’
‘I’ve been intending to ask you to convey my appreciation to the staff for the excellent work they did, preparing Bildenstone Hall for my arrival. I know it took a great deal of effort, after the house had been closed up for so long.’
Expressions of surprise, then gratification, illumined the butler’s face. ‘I’m pleased you found everything satisfactory, Mr Ransleigh, and I’ll certainly pass your approval on to the others.’
‘With the increased workload of having a family member in residence, we should hire some additional employees. I’m thinking we will need an under-butler, an assistant for Cook, plus a couple of maids and perhaps another footman, as a start.’
The butler’s eyes lit with enthusiasm. ‘That would indeed be helpful, sir. We had nearly twice the staff when the late Mr and Mrs Ransleigh resided here. Though as a bachelor, of course, you won’t do as much entertaining.’
‘Consult with Mrs Greenlow and hire as many as you think necessary. ‘
The butler nodded. ‘Very good, sir. I shall be honoured to assist you in reviving Bildenstone Hall.’
‘Thank you, Wilton.’
The butler bowed himself out. Dom sat for a moment with a bemused smile. Well, Miss Branwell, I’ve taken care of the house, he thought, satisfaction warming him. Perhaps it was time to arrange a tour with his estate agent and check on the tenants. If the lord of the manor was going to reside here—and it appeared he was—he ought to become better acquainted with his land and the people who farmed it.
That should keep him occupied, away from the school—and the tantalising Miss Branwell.
Though even as he resolved it, he doubted he’d stay away long.
Chapter Nine
Two days later, the afternoon turning fair, Dom toted the volume of Herodotus to the bench in his mother’s rose garden. An agreeable hour of reading later, a footman trotted up to inform him Miss Branwell had called.
Surprise, pleasure—and a bit of alarm—filled him. He thought at their last encounter they’d settled, regrettably, the fact that propriety forestalled her from calling on him again.
It might be wiser to send her away unseen, but it took him only an instant to conclude he’d not be able to force himself to do that. Curiosity alone demanded he discover what was so urgent that she felt moved to disregard the irksome rules of proper conduct and come to Bildenstone.
While he debated whether it would be better to receive her inside, in the parlour, where there would be fewer prying eyes to observe them, or out in the garden, in the open, where the many household staff could witness nothing improper was transpiring, the lady herself walked over.
‘Good day, Mr Ransleigh,’ she said with a smile.
It was certainly not prudent, but Dom couldn’t help himself—he had to walk forward and take her hand, just to see if the tingling connection fired between them again.
He felt it immediately as he touched her—shock, then a force surging through him, flooding his senses. Without further thought, instead of shaking her hand as he had before, he turned the hand palm up and kissed it, fiercely resenting the buttons that prevented him from moving his lips to taste the bare skin at her wrist.
After a moment of savouring her warmth and an intoxicating violet scent that made his senses swim like strong brandy, he made himself release her. Straightening, he saw her gazing down at her still-extended hand, eyes wide, lips parted, her breathing quick and shallow.
Ah, she’d felt the connection just as strongly! he thought, triumphant. Desire ignited, sending awareness and need flaming through him. Had she leaned even infinitesimally closer, he could not have stopped himself from kissing her. Fortunately, more discreet than he, she took a wobbly step backward. He had a moment of furious regret before reason returned to make him glad she’d halted the encounter before it flared ever further out of control.
It took him a moment to reassemble his scorched wits.
‘Good day to you, Miss Branwell,’ he managed to say at last. ‘I’m very happy to see you—though I am surprised you called, given the conclusion of our last conversation on the matter. Nothing alarming has happened, I trust?’
She gave a shaky laugh, further defusing the sensual tension. ‘No, nothing alarming. Encouraging developments, actually. Not only am I emboldened to call on you, I believe you can offer me tea with impunity. Which, in fact, I should v
ery much like. The day seems to have become suddenly over-warm.’
He could sympathise; his cravat—not to mention his breeches—now seemed over-tight. ‘Let’s walk back to the house, then. I’ll order tea, and you can explain.’
He offered his good arm, and to his delight, she took it. Though as a result, he scarcely heard what she was saying, too distracted by her body so near his and that elusive violet scent, which seemed to emanate from her glossy brown hair—or perhaps from behind her ear. His mouth watered as he envisioned tasting her there, before his gaze drifted down to focus on the glimpse of tongue behind soft lips as she spoke. Wind-loosened wisps escaped from the braided tangle beneath her hat, and he itched to pull the hair fully free of its pins.
In short, he wanted her more than ever. It took all his will-power to force back that need and focus on her words.
‘...probably not wise to visit too often,’ she was saying as he guided her to the large receiving room, ‘but I did need to call just this once, to warn you. I’m afraid you may be angry when I confess the rather presumptuous statements I made to Lady Wentworth, whom I called on this morning.’
‘Presumptuous?’ he echoed, amused. With so outspoken a girl, he couldn’t imagine what outrageousness she’d uttered—and to Lady Wentworth! ‘So you bearded the lioness in her den? I’m impressed by your courage,’ he said as he waved her to a chair and sent a footman off for tea.
‘Papa always said it’s best to take initiative and confront your adversary on ground of your choice, rather than wait and wonder when and where you’re going to be attacked. If Lady Wentworth intended to be an impediment to my establishing the school, I needed to know sooner rather than later.’
‘Will she be an impediment?’
Her grin looked almost—smug. ‘I think I’ve defused the problem, for the present, at least.’
‘Have you, now?’ he said, dubious. ‘She seemed rather strongly opposed to it when she and the Squire called on me, and she didn’t strike me as a person who is easily persuaded to change her opinions.’
‘Quite true. But Papa also said one must learn everything one can about one’s adversary before facing him, so I preceded my visit with a call on the local solicitor, Mr Scarsdale. I wanted to thank him anyway for his efforts in helping me staff Thornfield Place and discover from him which were the most influential members of the community, whose approval I must obtain if the school is to succeed. ‘
‘Your father is right—that was good tactics,’ he said approvingly. ‘I’m sure Mr Scarsdale was gratified to be consulted.’
‘I believe he was. Solicitors seem to me akin to sergeants in the army, performing many useful functions, knowing everything about everyone in their community, yet too often undervalued by those outranking them.’
Struck by the comparison, Dom nodded. ‘I expect you are right. So, what did you discover?’
‘After describing the most important families in the area—Squire Marlowe, Baron Southwick, and the Ransleighs—’ She halted as Dom groaned.
‘I hope he didn’t recount too many adventures of my misspent youth.’
She shook her head, regarding him seriously. ‘You must know how very highly you are regarded here, both your reputation before you entered the army, and for your valour in serving. He merely repeated what you yourself already told me—your ability with horses, your family’s growing interest in breeding foxhounds and hunters, which led to their removal from Suffolk, to the great disappointment of all in the county. But he also provided the information I needed about Lady Wentworth.’
‘Such as?’
‘An only daughter doted upon by her father, she was the most beautiful and the most richly dowered maiden in the county in her début Season. Which makes it more understandable that she is accustomed to pronouncing judgements that permit no opposition, expressing desires that must be swiftly accommodated, and having others defer to her. I discovered the local charitable organisation of which she is now the head was established by her father, which she carries on in his honour. So naturally, in our conversation, I emphasised how the greatest wish of my late father, one of the heroes of Waterloo, was to establish a home and school for orphans of the soldiers he’d led into battle. That after his death, I felt it my solemn duty to carry out his wishes.’
Dom lifted an eyebrow. ‘Was it his greatest wish?’
‘Well, he never said it wasn’t,’ Miss Branwell said, with a twinkle in her eyes that made him laugh. ‘To be fair, he had a war to win before he figured out what was to be done with the orphans we’d begun to accumulate. It’s quite possible he would have decided to establish a home for them.’
‘I begin to believe you incorrigible, Miss Branwell,’ he said severely, his amused expression belaying the censorious comment.
‘Determined, certainly,’ she allowed, seeming not at all apologetic about manipulating her adversary.
After a break while Wilton brought in the tea tray, she continued. ‘Mr Scarsdale said her father was a man of strict morals. So I emphasised that children brought up around an army are instilled with discipline from their earliest years, which makes them more amenable to following directions in moral training and improvement—moral improvement being something else her late father felt quite important.’
‘I never noticed that strict discipline had any morally improving effect on soldiers.’
‘As adults they have grown too set in their ways,’ she countered. ‘In any event, I ended by begging that she avail me of the experience she’s garnered in running her own establishment. Which is quite true—I would appreciate her recommendations in staffing the school, and I certainly can’t obtain the calibre of employee I want or find positions for the students later, if she sets the neighbourhood against me.’
‘Very true. Well done, Miss Branwell!’
She nodded, her cheeks pinking at his praise. After draining her cup, she set it down and lifted her chin. Taking a deep breath and looking for the first time a bit uncomfortable, she said, ‘I’m afraid I haven’t yet confessed the truly incorrigible bit.’
Intrigued, and bracing himself for something outlandish, Dom said, ‘Better do so straight away.’
‘Well, if you’re angry, there’s nothing for it, but under the circumstances, I felt the...evasion justified. You see, before I left, Lady Wentworth took me to task about the nature of my relationship with you.’
Irritation washed through him. He’d never before resented quite so fiercely that birth and position would make everything about him of great interest to his neighbours for ever. ‘Interfering creature,’ he muttered. ‘However, with the servants at Bildenstone all interrelated to families in the county, the fact that we’ve met several times was bound to get out.’
‘Yes, and this is the...presumptuous part. I felt I’d mostly won her over, but with an unmarried daughter who might need to look closer to home for suitors if her Season isn’t a success, and with her initial opposition to the orphans still making her approval uncertain, I knew she’d seize upon any reason to discredit me—and any stain upon my honour would give her exactly the excuse she needed! So I’m afraid I inferred that our acquaintance was of long standing, that you were a sort of protégé of my father’s whom I looked upon as a sibling, and had been pleased to meet again as a fellow campaigner.’
Dom paused a moment to absorb the implications. ‘You told that plumper without a blink? You are shameless!’ he cried, torn between annoyance and admiration.
‘Oh, no, I didn’t lie!’ she protested. ‘I simply mentioned that Papa had mentored a number of young officers, of whom I grew quite fond and looked upon as brothers. As my comment followed her enquiry about our relationship, she assumed that you were one of the young men I was describing. Though I did not, I confess, contradict that erroneous assumption. In any event, I felt you should know about it, so you may decide how you w
ish to respond if anyone dares to question you about it.’
‘So I can be prepared to insert a suitable evasion, which infers a relationship that never existed without precisely lying about it?’
She grinned. ‘If your conscience will allow, I would much appreciate it.’
‘Miss Branwell, I begin to have serious doubts about your character.’
She lifted an eyebrow and shrugged. ‘Subterfuge and misdirection, when necessary, are legitimate tactics.’
‘Perhaps you should abandon the idea of caring for orphans and take a post in strategy at Horse Guards.’
‘With Boney on St Helena, they don’t need me any more,’ she said, then burst into laughter. ‘Very well, I admit, I enjoyed leading her on. Someone so obviously full of herself, with a heart hard enough to consign innocent children she’s never met to poverty without a blink, deserves to be hoodwinked from time to time.’
He shook his head, wondering at what a marvel she was. ‘I only wish I’d been there to witness the performance. It must have been masterful!’
‘Adequate, at any rate. With effects lasting long enough, I hope, that I can launch the school and staff it before she has second thoughts about my respectability. Though it would still be wise not to invite those second thoughts by visiting here too often. So I’d best take advantage of this opportunity and ask you now if you’ve come up with any trainers whom you think I could approach about teaching at the school.’
‘I did make a list. But I fear all those with the qualifications and experience you’d prefer are presently employed training horses for very wealthy men. It would probably be beyond your budget to hire any of them.’
She gave a negative shake of her head. ‘If adequate salary is all that prevents them from accepting a position, that won’t be a problem.’
‘I should think, for one who’s always managed on an army officer’s pay, finances would be a pressing concern. Unless you have tucked away somewhere an India nabob or a rich brewer for a grandfather?’
The Rake to Reveal Her Page 9
