by Janet Woods
‘Of course I’ve arrived, and three hours since, making all haste through the muck on the highways, since your message said it was urgent. But I can stay no more than six weeks, and I am here to make the acquaintance of Miss Adams now. As for you, you rogue, you should know better than be in here alone with her. What were you thinking of, Saville?’
He smiled as he moved towards the door, speaking softly so Eve wouldn’t hear. ‘What I’ve been thinking since I first met her, that she’s too good to give away to John and I should keep her for myself.’
She gave him a long, steady look. ‘I took a good look at her whilst she was asleep. The girl looks to be a poor scrap of a thing.’
‘Usually, she’s more robust, and she’s a precious little scrap to me.’ He took her in a hug. ‘Be kind to her, Charlotte. She’s been through a lot.’
‘Have you declared yourself to her?’
‘Not directly and with intent. John’s feelings must be taken into consideration. I must bring the matter to his attention as soon as possible; else he will be a laughing stock if it gets out. We will go to London as soon as Evelyn is well enough to travel.’
He might as well have declared himself, Charlotte thought, observing the unguarded adoration in the girl’s eyes as she watched Saville move off. Saville’s last glance was filled with such tenderness that she smiled.
This was something entirely unexpected. She’d been nagging her brother to wed for years, and over that time she and her husband had introduced him to a countless number of healthy and eligible girls. Now he’d fallen in love with this delicate miss, who had no family name or breeding to speak of ––a girl destined for his cousin.
Such deviation from social expectations was untypical of her sensible brother, yet she loved this stray quirk of character he’d unconsciously revealed. It indicated he was emotionally vulnerable. Now he’d made his choice, she knew he’d allow nothing to stop him from attaining that which his heart desired.
She began to laugh; she couldn’t help it.
Chapter Nine
Charlotte, wife to the Marquess of Falhampton and mother of two daughters, was tall and elegant, blue of eyes and dark of hair. She was also the possessor of a direct manner.
She was striking to look at. To a certain extent she resembled Saville, but her features were softened by femininity. Her mouth drew a softer curve, her nose and brows were less pronounced and her skin was of a finer texture.
She took charge of the household servants with an assuredness that left Graine completely in awe of her. Rebel was banned from entering the bed chamber, and sent packing from the rug outside the door. He slunk off downstairs to find his master, his tail between his legs.
‘Now, my dear,’ she said, her charming smile contradicting the ring of authority in her voice. ‘Saville has asked me to act as your companion whilst you’re under his roof. I admit, I had not expected to find you in such poor health, but I’m assured your illness is of a temporary nature and you are convalescing satisfactorily. I do hope my brother is being a good host.’
A little easier in her mind now Thomas Younger was no longer a threat, Graine’s cheeks began to glow at just the mention of Saville’s name. ‘The earl has been wonderfully kind.’
‘He can be no less than kind to his cousin’s betrothed.’
Graine felt the spark drain from her. She plucked restlessly at the thread on the bed cover. ‘Yes … of course. I am to wed John Lamartine; I had almost forgotten.’
‘I have noticed that you appear to hold my brother in high regard,’ said Charlotte, her eyes a steady blue gaze. ‘Men are not constant when women freely offer their affection. Such looks as you bestow on him could draw the wrong conclusion from him. In its turn, that would attract gossip and your reputation would be blemished beyond retrieval.’
Graine blushed, saying with some heat. ‘Any looks I bestow on the earl are occasioned by gratitude. I’m to far below him to warrant consideration, and the earl has been a perfect gentleman.’ She chose to discount his kisses, knowing she’d been shamelessly eager to accept what she suspected was little more than a casual and affectionate gesture from him.’
‘He has been trained to be gentlemanly, and I would expect no less of him, even though you have been living under his roof without a chaperon for some time. But even the most civilized of men have a limit, which once breached, robs them of all control. Do you understand to which I refer?’
‘Most certainly,’ she said, albeit a little breathlessly, because nobody had been this frank with her since she’d left the convent.
‘That’s good.’ Charlotte patted her hand. ‘I understand you’ve lacked a mother to guide you in these matters, which is why I offer such advice. It is kindly intended.’
‘Thank you My Lady; I’m appreciative.’
‘You will find London society difficult after a lifetime spent in the West Indies. John Lamartine, and especially his mother, will expect socially acceptable behavior. Aunt Harriet will not want a wife for her son who proves to be an embarrassment.’ Her lips pursed for a moment of reflection before she added, ‘Even though her own behavior can be tiresome on occasion.’
Graine tried to hide her resentment. ‘A man who reaches John Lamartine’s age and heeds his mother’s advice instead of his own, is an embarrassment unto himself. The more I hear of this man and his mother, the less I find to admire in them and the more to despise. Indeed, it’s more than probable the inclination to wed him will desert me altogether, for I do not intend to spend the rest of my life on my knees, seeking forgiveness for every small sin I commit.’
Charlotte laughed. ‘Saville has been teasing you, I see. My brother’s sense of humor often reflects the quirkiness of his nature. John is devout, but he has a kind heart. He is a scholar by nature, and would have been content to remain a bachelor if my brother had not talked him into this match, for John swore he would not wed for fortune alone. He probably regrets his decision, by now, but his nature is such that he’ll not back down from it unless he’s offered a good reason.’
Her pillows were energetically punched into shape by Charlotte’s fists. ‘We must find something to occupy your time whilst you recuperate. Jessie told me there’s a tapestry frame and some silks. You can sit in the window seat and embroider for a while. And I will find some brushes and watercolors for painting. I understand you like to read, too. Shall bring something light up from the library. Daniel Defoe’s, Moll Flanders, perhaps. Have you read it?’
Charlotte’s grin was a replica of Saville’s when Graine shook her head. ‘Then I hope you are not too easily shocked, for it’s about a woman of ill repute who prospers when she repents her ways.’
Graine flushed as she was forced to think of her mother, who hadn’t lived long enough to repent. She took a deep, steadying breath, reminding herself that Charlotte knew nothing of her background. ‘I can read and mend, but I’ve never embroidered and I do not know how to paint.’
‘Then I must teach you. I shall consult with your physician, and we will soon have every hour of your day accounted for. Thus, you will not suffer from boredom.’
‘You’re already tiring me out,’ she grumbled.
Charlotte sent her a smile. ‘I have a managing nature, on which you must not waste argument. If you are good, and if we have a warm day, I will arrange a short outing in the carriage next week. Breathing the sea air will strengthen your lungs.’
Graine nearly wept with joy at the thought of such a reward when Charlotte stooped to kiss her cheek, and from that moment on, her health began to improve rapidly.
* * * *
He’d taken the correct course in sending for Charlotte. Saville was gratified to see his lady-love’s cheeks regain some color, and her eyes their shine.
Spring had brought a certain bustle with it, as if the March winds had energized the body and minds of people. He was often absent from home now, the work associated with the assizes dividing his time equally between the county hall in Dorcheste
r, where the sessions were being held this quarter, and the estate.
Even with the competent Edmund Scanlon in charge, there was a variety of sowing, threshing and mucking to be discussed and the breeding of cattle and sheep to be attended to. The pastures for the stock had to be prepared, the fences inspected and the tenant farmers visited.
The cottages in the village were brightened with a coat of lime wash, and any defects reported were dealt with, for Saville found it cheaper to maintain, rather than let repairs accumulate. The women spring-cleaned. They polished their pots and windows, and hung their bedding out to air. Children chased through the activities, oblivious to the warnings of their mothers and the occasional slap around the ear. Their men stoically tramped to work, wearing in the new issue of squeaking boots, and wincing at the crop of blisters they raised.
A couple of runaways arrived, straight off one of William Younger’s ships. Saville had the doctor check the men over before they were sent on their way to the capital.
He never saw Evelyn alone now. Always, the watchful Charlotte was present. The conversation was polite, but was never allowed to become personal. Just the sight of Evelyn made Saville’s blood heat, and the distance that chaperonage placed between them, only served to incite his ardor. He ached if a day passed when he didn’t see her.
It was his joy to be home when she arrived back from her first outing. Her smile filled his senses. Without consulting Charlotte, he swung her up in his arms and carried her up to her chamber, his sister protesting loudly at every step he took. He speeded up, leaving her behind.
He could feel the quiver of tension in Evelyn, brought on by their proximity. He could smell her perfume and hear the whispery feathers of her breath fanning against his cheek. All he had to do was turn his head, and . . .
Action followed thought, and the next second there was a pair of tawny eyes gazing deliciously into his. He heard her breath catch in her throat, and his followed suit. They exchanged a smile, almost rueful in the unspoken knowledge they shared. He had an urge to ravage her exquisitely soft mouth when the pink tip of her tongue emerged to moisten her lips.
He kicked open the door and strode to the bed with her. One day he’d join her amongst the brocade hangings, tear away her frills and flounces and make her part of him. Beneath the sensuous blue silk wrappings her flesh was warm and alive. It was waiting to be uncovered … to be spread naked for his delight, to be teased and tickled, feasted on and consumed. How eagerly he would exploit its pleasures and plunder its treasures. His thumb brushed under the lace of her bodice to graze lightly across the nub of her breast and bring it thrusting against her bodice. There was a tiny noise deep in her throat, a cross between a growl and a gasp.
Her eyes darkened to a sensuous liquid honey. His name purred from her mouth on a quivering little breath as she smiled. ‘Saville.’ she whispered. He was jubilant. It was meant for his ears alone, and he knew without a doubt now that she returned his feelings.
Charlotte poked him in the back. ‘You may put Evelyn down and leave us now, Saville,’ she said. The amusement in her voice was clear, though she could have seen and heard nothing. ‘Didn’t you say you were going to train a horse today?’
Gathering his wits together he lowered his sweet burden to the bed, brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her tender little palm. ‘It’s the horse I gifted to Evelyn. I will train her under the window so her mistress can watch.’
Firmly, Charlotte shooed him to the door. ‘I’m afraid not, Saville. Evelyn is tired from her outing and will be resting this morning. You may visit her this evening for fifteen minutes before dinner.’ He was pushed from the room, and the door closed behind him with a determined thud.
He stood in the corridor for a moment, smiling to himself as the lusts of spring rushed through his body in a turbulent stream. From a pocket against his heart he took her scarf, and held its perfumed silkiness against his cheek. His body told him he was ready for the duties of loving with a vengeance. He whistled to himself as he thrust the filmy scrap back in his pocket and headed for the stables.
* * * *
April arrived in a soft shower of rain. One spiky daffodil bloomed, to be joined by another, then another until they became a countless patch. Gradually, they spread over the grass, where they bobbed about in the wind like gossiping women in yellow bonnets.
Saville took her a vase filled with them. He set them on a table near the widow, where she sat at her embroidery.
He gazed at it long and hard, grinning.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, whispering because Charlotte was napping in the chair. ‘I’m not very good at embroidery.’
‘It’s beautiful because it’s yours.’ She knew he was lying and giggled.
He sent a swift look at the sleeping Charlotte, then taking the circlet of pearls he’d purchased for Evelyn from his pocket, he fastened them around her neck. When she gasped with delight at the unexpected gift, he turned her face up to his to be kissed. This was not a kiss to be taken lightly, but an ardent caress, full of passion and intent.
Being in love made Graine feel reckless. Love made her forget she was a penniless orphan child who could not remember affection, and had relied on the charity of others in the past. She forgot she was a liar, impersonator and thief in this moment of togetherness with him. She could not withstand such an onslaught on her senses, and responded to it, allowing his tongue the little intimacies it so desired. The sin of it was a delicious flowering inside her, as if she was a plant opening to his sun.
‘I must have you,’ he groaned when he’d taken what he needed to sustain him for that moment. He ran his thumb gently across the mouth he’d just kissed, then turned on his heel and left, leaving a flat box in her lap. Pearl ear-drops nestled inside.
Charlotte jerked awake as the door closed. ‘Who was that?’
‘Your brother. He brought us some daffodils.’
‘Hmmm.’ Her companion gazed at the clock and smiled. ‘Time for your rest, I think.’
Calmly, Graine told her, ‘I don’t feel much like resting today. I feel like going for a walk around the garden.’
‘But the good doctor is due to visit.’
‘I feel perfectly well now, Charlotte. Doctor Rideout said I could go out any time I wished.’
‘You look flushed, my dear.’
Graine reached up to touch the necklet, her smile dreamier than she knew. ‘I’m flushed because Saville gave me this precious gift. I’ve fallen in love with him, Charlotte, and I think he loves me in return.’
‘If he does, you must wait until he formally declares himself. Only then can you be sure of his intentions.’
Graine engaged her companion’s eyes. ‘He kissed me and told me he wanted me.’
Charlotte frowned. ‘Oh, my dear, be very careful. There’s a wide gulf between a man wanting a women and loving her. Men say such things as a means to an end.’
‘Are you telling me your brother is less than honorable?’
‘I’m telling you he’s a man like any other, with all the impulses and needs of a man. Men believe what they say in the heat of a moment. I love my brother, and I’ve grown to like you. I’m asking you to be careful because I don’t want to see either of you hurt.’
‘Saville wouldn’t hurt me. He’s too fine a person,’ she said, and nobody was going to convince her that he was any different.
The sound of a cantering horse heralded the arrival of Henry Rideout. Soon, Graine was pronounced fit.
‘That’s wonderful,’ Saville told her, his smile warm with regard. ‘I need to be in London in the first week of May. I have urgent business, which can be put off no longer.’
Her heart sank, but his glance reassured her that the business was to set things right with his cousin concerning her. ‘Now you are fit again I will take you to see the countryside, so you can try out your horse. She’s beautifully behaved.’
‘I don’t think I will ride very well, for I’ve only ever ridden on a cart-
horse,’ she said.
‘Theodore Chambers informed me you could ride well?’ The frown he gave was relieved by a perplexed smile. ‘The man was obviously given to exaggeration of the wildest sort, for you are not what he said you were.’ He shrugged. ‘No matter, I will teach you to ride myself.’
Charlotte gazed from one to the other as if she was about to say something. Then she seemed to change her mind. ‘I will travel with you to London, for my husband and children will be in residence there. I take it we’ll not be taking the coaches all the way.’
‘No, the roads will be rutted and boggy after the winter. It’ll be too hard on the horses. We’ll take the coaches as far as Poole, then yours can proceed on to Kent with your outriders while you come with us on the ship.’
* * * *
Riding was easier than Graine expected. She found her brown taffeta riding habit, with its bell skirt, jacket, waistcoat and tricorn hat, to be cumbersome. But the side saddle proved to be comfortable, and she felt safe with her knee tucked over the horn.
Charlotte too, had relaxed her vigilance a little, for Saville was teaching her in full view of the house. One fine morning, however, the stable boy brought Saville his gelding. Immediately, he sprang into the saddle. ‘You’re doing so well I thought we’d ride further out today. I’ll take you through the woodlands and show you my favorite place. Keep the horse at a steady canter if you can. It will be less tiring for both of you.’ He glanced back at the house. ‘Let’s be off before anybody notices, for there’s something I wish to say to you privately.’
They exchanged a conspiratorial smile.
Jessie noticed them leaving and drew Charlotte’s attention to the fact. Charlotte merely smiled. ‘No doubt, my brother wanted a private moment alone with Miss Adams. It’s probable that he’s counseling her, so she knows what to expect from John Lamartine. Besides, the earl has an appointment with his steward in half an hour.’
Jessie snorted. ‘Don’t think you’ve got me fooled with your scheming, Miss Charlotte, I’ve known you for too long. If that their brother of yours keeps that appointment I’ll wag my tail and bark, for he asked cook to pack some vittals for the pair of them and that tells me he intends that they should spend the day in each other’s company. If you asks me, it’s more likely that he’ll get down on his knees and ask for her hand in marriage.’
