‘Must?’ he interrupted scathingly, his eyes hard and contemptuous. ‘I think you are getting above yourself, Miss Napier. If you are wise,’ he said in a soft, blood-chilling voice, ‘in the future you will avoid me very carefully, and if you collude with my sister in anything as outrageous as this again, then you will find yourself looking for another position. Is that clear?’
In stunned silence Lisette watched him stride swiftly along the landing and bound down the stairs. She felt frozen inside, her mind blank. Upon her soul, she had never been spoken to in such a harsh and brutal way. Unable to form any coherent thought she left the colonel’s room, too dazed, too numb to think or feel, but she could hear over and over again, the words Colonel Montague had so cruelly flung at her—duplicity, deceit and disloyalty...and dismissal.
Like a moth blundering in the lamplight, she stumbled her way through the maze of the house’s many corridors, her only instinct guiding her to the refuge of her own bedchamber. Once inside the privacy of her room, she closed the door behind her and clamped her hands over her ears, but it was a futile gesture. She could still hear the colonel’s words ringing in her ears, muted only by her own sobs as her heart fractured into tiny pieces.
* * *
Thunder clouds, dark grey and menacing, raced across the sky and a leaden curtain of drenching rain descended on Ross. Shrouded in his greatcoat and gritting his teeth, by the time the family sat down to dinner at Castonbury Park, he was heading in the direction of the Manchester Road, his horse’s hooves pounding the muddied ground.
It was dark when he returned with a remorseful Araminta. Waiting in the basement hall, her back against one of the columns, having pulled herself together but with a vestige of pain still lingering, Lisette watched them enter. Colonel Montague was wearing a caped greatcoat and the wind had ruffled his hair. With the light behind him he was a dark silhouette made even larger by the capes of his coat spread wide by his broad shoulders. Shrugging it off he handed it to a footman.
Not until she moved did Ross notice Lisette. His voice was as cold as his eyes. ‘Take my sister to her room. She is to stay there until further notice.’
Without a word Lisette turned from him and accompanied her distraught mistress down the length of the hall. Colonel Montague’s voice suddenly halted her.
‘Miss Napier, wait.’ Araminta went on ahead. Lisette turned back to face him. He came close and stood looking down at her. ‘I trust you are aware of the seriousness of this and that you will not utter one word to anyone about Araminta’s transgression.’
Deeply offended and angered that he thought she would, Lisette stiffened. ‘I will not.’
‘In the meantime,’ Ross said, with cold practicality, ‘Araminta must socialise and act as usual—as if nothing untoward has happened. It is my hope that everyone will be blessedly unaware of this day’s debacle and that lurid versions of her activities are not already spreading like wildfire from Derbyshire to London. If the story of the episode at the Dog and Partridge is circulated, she will be ruined.’
‘All that sounds rather harsh and unfair to me—that society can be so judgmental,’ Lisette uttered tightly.
Her ignorance of English protocol and the behaviour of society brought a mocking smile to Ross’s lips. ‘You have lived too long in India, Miss Napier. If a scandal ensues, in the eyes of the ton Araminta will be seen as a shameless wanton, soiled and used and unfit company for unsullied young ladies, gullible young heirs and polite society in general. But as things stand, love him or hate him, Araminta will marry Antony Bennington. I insist on it. Do I make myself clear?’
‘Perfectly, Colonel.’ Lisette was too tired to argue or protest further. Colonel Montague’s actions were what one would expect if a man had compromised his sister. ‘Now if you will excuse me I will go and attend to her.’ Dipping a stiff curtsey and lowering her eyes lest he saw the anger there, she turned and left him.
Lisette chafed at his harsh reprimand. She could hardly believe he was the same man she had met in India, the same relentless, predatory seducer who had taken advantage of her, who had held her clasped to him while his hungry mouth devoured hers. It was as if he were two people, one she could like and one she feared and mistrusted—with excellent reason since he had threatened to dismiss her.
On reaching the landing Lisette met Phaedra coming from the drawing room where she had been taking coffee with her aunt Wilhelmina.
‘Good heavens,’ she said, ‘was that Araminta who just scooted past me? She’s extremely wet,’ she remarked in sympathy. ‘We wondered why she wasn’t at dinner. One of the grooms said she’d been gone all afternoon. Don’t say she was lost in the rain all that time.’
‘No, she—she came upon a shelter in the woods and stayed there until the rain let up a little while ago.’ It seemed the wisest thing to say. Since no one knew of Araminta’s assignation with Lord Bennington, Lisette had every wish to avoid a scandal, which would surely ensue should anyone find out. ‘Excuse me, Lady Phaedra. I must go and prepare Miss Araminta a bath.’
On entering her mistress’s rooms, Lisette searched her strained face. ‘Are you all right?’ she asked concernedly, proceeding to help her out of her damp clothes.
Araminta nodded, pulling her arms out of her sleeves. ‘Yes, Lisette. Although Ross was extremely angry.’
‘I expect he was.’
‘You told him where to find me.’ Her words were more of a statement than a question. Lisette was relieved there was no hint of accusation.
‘When you didn’t come home I feared you might have had an accident. I had to do something.’
‘It’s all right. I really should have listened to you. Still, it’s done now. The most important thing is that Antony still loves me and assures me that everything will be all right. Ross insists we marry as soon as it can be arranged. I think he’s afraid my indiscretion will get out and create a scandal.’
‘Which I imagine would be most unwelcome for the Montagues after everything that has happened.’
* * *
Lisette did not see Colonel Montague again for two weeks—whether it was by chance or his own choosing she had no idea, but she strongly suspected it to be the latter.
Alone, she was carefully laying out the dress Araminta would change into for the afternoon when she came in. Colonel Montague was behind her, carrying some small packages. They’d taken the carriage into Castonbury to do some shopping. With a bottle of lotion in her hands, Lisette stopped what she was doing, watching as Colonel Montague placed the packages on the bed. When he turned to face her he studied her with the casual interest a man might assume when he meets for the first time a woman he does not consider particularly attractive and therefore hardly worthy of his attention.
Lisette wanted to leave, but she knew she was trapped. His tall, powerful frame barred her way to the door, and his expression was like granite and as forbidding as it had been since that fateful day of Araminta’s fall from grace. She had no choice but to remain. Her pulse pounded as she looked at him.
Their gazes locked—a tremble ran the entire length of her body.
‘Miss Napier! I trust you have not been colluding with my sister in any more undesirable escapades.’ His voice was sharp, without any hint that his attitude had softened towards her.
‘Ross,’ Araminta chided, coming quickly to her maid’s defence. ‘Lisette had nothing to do what happened between me and Antony, so will you please refrain from being horrid to her. I will have nothing said against her, do you hear? None of it was her fault.’
Ross cocked a mocking, amused brow at Lisette. ‘You are asking me to be nice to someone who not only colluded in what you did but also encouraged it.’
The unfairness of his accusation brought Lisette’s head up and, on meeting his, her eyes flared. ‘I most certainly did not. I tried extremely hard to dissuade her. Miss Araminta will testify to that,’ she said, keeping the anger and hurt boiling inside her tightly shut down. If he expected her to squirm b
eneath his anger and contempt he would be disappointed. She was not going to weep or run begging for forgiveness—not that she had done anything that warranted forgiveness. She would not let herself be bullied. She was learning not to let her face show her feelings.
‘Lisette is quite right,’ Araminta retorted. ‘You are being unkind to me and discourteous to Lisette. What I did was wrong. But I do love Antony and that cannot be wrong—and what do you think, Lisette?’ Araminta said, almost bubbling over with excitement. ‘Ross has given his permission for Antony and me to marry as soon as it can be arranged—here at Castonbury, in the chapel. Isn’t that wonderful?’
Lisette smiled at her. ‘I’m so pleased for you—truly. I hope you and Lord Bennington will be very happy together.’
‘We will be. How could we not? Since our betrothal was of many months’ standing before I foolishly broke it off, Ross sees no reason for us to wait—and then he can go back to India. Is that not so, Ross?’
‘It is, but not until there’s word from Harry,’ her brother replied. ‘Hopefully when he contacts Giles he will have news about Jamie.’
‘Good news, I hope,’ his sister said, beginning to tear open the packages to inspect the items she had bought in Castonbury village. ‘Poor Uncle Crispin. It must truly be awful not knowing if your son is dead or alive. And then there’s the woman who claims to be Jamie’s wife... What a muddle it all is.’
‘And nothing for you to worry your head about, Araminta. You have quite enough to occupy your mind with your forthcoming betrothal party. You might like to go into Buxton for a new ball gown or wedding gown or something.’
Araminta’s eyes lit up and she reached up and kissed his cheek affectionately. ‘You are so good to me, Ross—the best brother in the whole world. Oh, how I shall miss you when you go back to India. Now, Lisette. I have not forgotten that it’s your afternoon off so run along now. If I need help to dress I’ll get one of the other maids to help me.’
‘If you’re sure.’ Placing the bottle of lotion on the dresser, Lisette went towards the door. Colonel Montague was standing in her way. ‘Excuse me, sir,’ she said tightly.
He raised enigmatic eyebrows as his eyes met hers and he stepped aside, polite, incurious, totally indifferent to her as a female, he would have her believe, but in his eyes there was a shadow that did not quite conceal his innermost thoughts and his secret emotions.
His total lack of concern gave him away, for a man who had held a woman in his arms cannot but help retain the memory of that moment. Something remains and the studied blankness of his expression showed how hard he was trying to hide it. It was still there, that bond between them, pulling at them, tormenting them, no matter how Ross Montague tried to hide it.
* * *
‘After a year of mourning, I think the time is right to invite people in again, Ross,’ Giles agreed when Ross approached him about a wedding party for Araminta.
‘Your father must be consulted, of course. Will he allow it—or even consider it?’
‘I think he will. Until we know what has happened to Jamie we cannot mourn him, and the official period of mourning for Edward is over. I can see nothing wrong with putting on a party for Araminta, and I’m delighted she’s going to marry young Bennington, after all. As the eldest son of the Earl of Cawood his credentials are impeccable and she would be a fool to allow him to slip through her fingers a second time. Go for it, Ross. A few new faces about the place will be a pleasant change. Will his parents be travelling up from Cambridgeshire for the event—and his delightful sister, Caroline? She’s quite a beauty as I recall—just had her first Season.’
‘As to that, I wouldn’t know. I imagine they will all come—although because they are close friends of the Lathams, I expect they will stay at Glebe Hall.’
‘I’ll speak to Father about it—although he’s so out of it at times I doubt he’ll object, or even notice for that matter.’
‘Thanks, Giles. I’ll see it won’t be a crowded, animated affair but it will do for Araminta. As long as she marries Antony Bennington she will be perfectly happy about it.’
* * *
Having finally received a reply from her father’s lawyer, Mr Sowerby, in Oxford, Lisette had much to think about and consider. So it was on her afternoon off that she climbed halfway up to the high peaks where she could be alone with her thoughts. As she walked past the stables, although she kept her eyes averted, she was aware of Colonel Montague in conversation with his cousin, Lord Giles. She felt his eyes on her, following her, but she did not look back. His attitude, his cruel, angry words, his threat to have her dismissed, had reminded her of her humble position—that she was a servant and therefore dispensable.
Her initial reaction had been violent hurt and she could not, even now, truly suppress it. After her efforts that had sent her fleeing from India, she’d thought she’d conquered hurt. She’d been wrong on that score.
Climbing upwards through the park, she noticed three bored gamekeepers with dogs. They watched her pass with an admiring interest that she was in no mood for. Walking on she left the woods behind, emerging onto an open hillside. Climbing higher and walking round the sheep that looked at her with curious stares, she eventually found a suitable place to sit in the shade of a stone barn and read her letter once more.
Mr Sowerby had written to offer his condolences over the demise of her parents and went on to inform her that her father, who had been well rewarded for the work he had carried out in India for the university, had left her a substantial legacy of five thousand pounds. Lisette was astounded. She didn’t know anything about any money. Her father had never spoken of such things to her. But to suddenly find that she was a wealthy young woman in her own right and that she need not fear for her future again, was such a wonderful feeling she could not believe it at first.
Fixing her gaze on the horizon, she made her first decision about her future. She would leave Castonbury Park. She could not stay here. To be near Colonel Montague, to continue being his sister’s maid, knowing the disdain with which he regarded her, was an intolerable prospect.
But where else could she go? What could she do? She had done nothing but help her father with his work and for a few short months she had been a maid. For the first time she began to wonder if there were other possibilities for her future. She decided it was time to stop believing she had no choices in her life. It was time to begin deciding her own destiny. Perhaps it was even time to have a bit of fun. She would remain until Araminta married Lord Bennington. Araminta would then leave Castonbury Park—and maybe she could fulfil her dream and return to India.
* * *
Having watched her walk away from the house, Ross had been unable to resist the temptation to follow her. For the first time he saw her with her hair unbound. It was black and shining and moved like waves on a beach as she walked. He had not been alone with her since that day she had come to his room to tell him about Araminta’s assignation with young Bennington. He had treated her badly, said harsh things he did not mean, things he knew must have hurt her, and he wanted nothing more than to make amends. Hopefully the gift he would present her with would go some way to aiding his cause.
Silently he approached. He paused and studied her, seated on the grass with her arms clasped around her drawn-up knees watching a scatter of magpies scuttling about the remains of a dead rabbit in the tussocky grass down the slope. Her gaze shifted to a shallow, slow-moving stream which, when it reached the valley bottom, would wind along the valley floor. The sun was warm on her face, the air sweet, and she breathed deep of it into her lungs, leaning back against the stone wall.
She wore a light floral printed dress with a demure white fichu tucked into her neckline, her slender arms concealed in three-quarter-length sleeves. Staring at her delicate wrists and long fingers made him long to know her touch on his bare skin. For long uncounted moments, Ross simply looked, let his eyes drink their fill of her soft curves, of the shining gloss of her unbound hair, of h
er intrinsically feminine expression, the simplicity of her pose. He felt the surge of emotions that gripped him. He didn’t know why he’d been so furious with her when she had told him of Araminta’s assignation with young Bennington. After all, it wasn’t her fault, but for some reason he had been incensed.
But he had come to regret his condemnation of her, for Araminta’s disgraceful behaviour was her affair and had nothing to do with her maid.
Lisette could feel his presence all around her. She did not look round since she had known he would come. He was dressed in breeches, an open-necked shirt beneath his jacket and knee-high riding boots. Without a word he moved to lean beside her, crossing his arms over his broad chest, and they stared out over the splendour of the wide, wild open hills and bracken-clad moorland together.
‘How did you know I would be up here?’ she said at last, carefully folding Mr Sowerby’s letter and putting it in the pocket of her dress.
‘Because I followed you. Araminta mentioned it was your afternoon off—remember? And when I saw you walk past the stables and head for the woods, I thought you might like some company. I was about to ride into Hatherton.’
‘Then why didn’t you? Why did you follow me?’ She did not look at him but continued to gaze at the broad expanse of moor that had entered her heart the first time she had seen it, like a child settling in its mother’s lap. ‘What is it that you want from me?’
‘You.’ That was the moment Ross realised how true this was. His attitude to love had always been of the easygoing, take-it-or-leave-it variety, and now he found himself stunned by the force of his desire. Never had he wanted a woman so much, and never had he felt less sure of his ability to get what he wanted.
‘I will be no man’s plaything, Colonel.’
‘If I wanted a toy I would buy one, Lisette. I wanted to talk to you and to apologise for my behaviour when you came to tell me about Araminta—and again when I saw you earlier. I was boorish, I know.’
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