A Fair Pretender

by Janet Woods

  ‘It’s more likely that he will wait until he’s spoken to our cousin, John Lamartine.’ She grinned at the maid. ‘Do you think Miss Evelyn Adams would make a suitable mistress for Rushford, Jessie?’

  Jessie slanted her head to one side. ‘God knows, the girl has no pretensions to grandeur and she’s well liked by those who’ve met her. Even you, Miss Charlotte, who is a bit too fussy for her own good, at times, even if it isn’t my place to say so.’

  ‘What nonsense, I’m not in the least bit fussy. If she makes my brother happy, then of course I like her. The earl is not a shallow man who would give his heart lightly. He has the heart of a man of the land and knows the ways of nature. He is content here, but lonely, and this is the first time I’ve seen him show anything but a passing interest in a woman. He needs a wife he can care for, one who loves him in return and who doesn’t crave for the glitter of life in London. I believe they truly love one another.’

  ‘Anyone with half an eye can see that, for they cannot take their eyes off each other when they’re together. It was her neshness that first appealed to him, I think. Though he put on a good face, he was worried sick when she was taken ill.’

  ‘Her delicacy hides an inner strength, Jessie. She survived a lung infection that would have felled most people. My brother and his guest deserve a little relaxation so they can speak of what’s in their minds.’

  ‘It isn’t what they’re saying that’s got me worried, it’s what they be doing. Despite her age, that girl is an innocent lambkin where men are concerned, and the earl is all man.’

  A little while later Charlotte was called to the window again. A man on horseback was coming up the carriageway.

  ‘A villainous looking fellow,’ Charlotte muttered.

  ‘It’s the blackbirder, Captain Younger,’ Jessie said with a scowl, ‘Him whose son died with a devil in his soul.’

  ‘Stop talking nonsense,’ Charlotte snapped. ‘The doctor said the man died from blood poisoning.’

  ‘A lot he knows,’ Jessie mumbled. ‘It was Satan who caused the blood to be poisoned in the first place.’

  ‘I expect the captain has come to thank the earl for looking after his son.’ Crossing to the bell pull Charlotte gave it a jerk, saying to the man-servant who appeared, ‘Advise the visitor that the earl is absent, and tell him to leave his card.’

  ‘He wanted to leave a note, so the steward is seeing to him, My Lady.’

  ‘Good, good. Tell Mr Scanlon the earl is not yet back from his ride and he should go about his normal business. It’s not much use him waiting. The earl will send for him when he arrives home, no doubt.’

  * * * *

  Just at that moment the earl was leading his love through the woodlands. Overhead, the trees were filled with birdsong, a joyous sound amongst the soughing leaves.

  Saville’s mind was occupied wholly with the women beside him. She filled his senses so completely that his skin tingled when he was near her; his eyes mourned her loss when they were withdrawn from her fair countenance; and his nose twitched when he could no longer inhale her perfume.

  He was gloriously, irretrievably in love, full to bursting with it––and he liked the feeling. This women would become his countess. She would accept him into her body as husband, take his seed into her and grow him a crop of strong sons and daughters. He sent her a smile, adoring her. Nothing would ever come between them, and he knew he’d love her forever.

  They’d slowed to a walk. He allowed her horse to come up beside his, then reached out to take her hand. He bore it to his lips to be kissed and said tenderly. ‘I have tried not to declare myself prematurely, but cannot keep quiet any longer. I adore you, my Eve.’

  How her eyes shone at his words, how delicately pink her cheeks became. He laughed and, bringing their mounts to a halt, dismounted. He reached up for her, his hands spanned her waist and he lifted her from the saddle. Lowering her against his body, he kissed her willing mouth with such passionate intent that she began to tremble.

  He gazed down at her, said fiercely, ‘John can’t have you. I’ll tell him so. Tell me you love me, for I can’t live another minute without hearing it directly from your sweet lips.’

  The place took on a magical timelessness for Graine. His ardor scared her a little, for she didn’t know exactly how to handle it. ‘You’re not mistaken. I do love you, Saville. But I’m not good enough for you.’

  ‘Let me be the judge of that, my dearest.’

  ‘But Saville––’ She was allowed to say no more for his lips were on hers again, loving her and coaxing her so sweetly that she had no recourse but to allow him the liberty. Her arms slid up around his neck and his body lay in sweet, hard possession against hers.

  Gradually, he backed her up against the gently sloping trunk of a tree, so she was half reclining along its length. ‘My sweeting,’ he whispered against her ear, ‘You’re causing me so much torture that I, who pride myself on my control and good sense, find it slipping away from me.’

  His fingers bushed against her bodice and circled the hardening nubs. ‘I want to kiss them, my sweet Eve. I want to run my tongue over your flesh and taste the sweetness of you.’

  Something hardened against the apex of her thighs. Her eyes widened when he nudged her legs apart and snuggled between them. She grew so moist and giving that her breath came in small gasps of delight. Wanting more of him, she unconsciously arched towards him.

  He gazed at her, smoky-eyed with passion. ‘I ache from needing to love you. One day I intend to incite the demons that lurk in this sweet body of yours with my hands and tongue, and tame those same demons with my possession of you. To hear you cry out in the throes of passion, begging me for release, will be my reward for your surrender. I will show you all the ways of loving for all the days of my life, and have you love me in return.’

  ‘Let us love each other then, for that’s what I want, too.’

  ‘Oh, Evelyn.’ He withdrew from her and, pulling her upright, smoothed the creases from her skirt. ‘Only a rogue would take advantage of such innocence.’

  ‘Can that be so important when we love one another?’

  ‘Yes, for a man of experience will say anything to a maid to slake his appetites, and how do you, in your innocence, know I’m not lying?’

  ‘Am I unable to trust you then, Saville?’

  ‘God, yes,’ he said almost vehemently, ‘I would die rather than cause harm to you in any way.’

  She smiled dreamily at him. ‘You love me that much? What if I was not what I seemed? Would you love me still?’

  ‘Love cannot be switched off and on at will.’

  She leaned her head against his shoulder. ‘I hope that’s true for, if you discovered I was not what I seemed, I couldn’t bear to lose you now.’

  ‘What nonsense you talk? How can you not be what you seem? Nothing will part us, my Eve,’ he said tenderly. ‘Come, let me lift you on to your mount before I forget myself again.’ And only a brief kiss was her reward before they were on their way again––but a kiss with a possessive little bite in the middle to let her know what lay beneath it.

  He took her to the top of the highest hill.

  His arm described an arc across an undulating plain lying to their north, and containing clusters of trees, villages and farms. Beyond the downs, a gentle range of hills smudged a misty blue against the sky. ‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’

  His pride in his homeland was justified, for the little she’d seen of it was surprisingly pretty, and diverse in its landscape. It had a solidness about it, a sense of strength and rightness. That fact was evident in Saville’s eyes, in the quiet pride of his smile.

  ‘It seems that an Englishman needs nothing but rustic England to sustain him,’ she teased. ‘You offer me a treasure, indeed. Now, I would be offered a little refreshment, for we have come a long way and I’m hungry and thirsty. Is there a farmhouse near by where we can beg refreshment.’

  He laughed, his face all at once self-depre
cating. He astonished her by taking a flask of wine and a kerchief containing bread, cheese and apples, from a bag tied to his saddle.

  They sat on a flat rock and refreshed themselves whilst the horses munched contentedly at the grasses. The breeze was a soft sigh.

  On the horizon, the sea was a glittering silver ribbon between land and sky. A narrow strip of multi-colored pebbles curved towards a grim looking island, which thrust steeply upwards from a churning sea.

  ‘That’s the Isle of Portland,’ he told her. ‘Some of the finest buildings in London are built from the limestone quarried there. There is a courtship tradition there, that the women is got with child before the wedding takes place.’ When Graine gasped, he laughed. ‘It proves the couple can produce issue. Isn’t that interesting?’

  She avoided his laughing eyes and changed the subject. ‘It’s very pretty here, I’m glad your brought me.’ Rushford Hall was nowhere to be seen, hidden as it was in a secret valley sloping between hills stepping down to the sea. They had come a long way, further than she was ready for, she thought, for the ride had chaffed blisters on her rear and she had tired.

  He smiled lazily when she gazed at him. ‘I’m glad you like it.’ Somewhere, a lark began to sing. Presently she grew sleepy and rested her head against his shoulder, soaking in the lush landscape through half-closed eyes. His arm came around her for support, his fingers brushed gently through her hair, relaxing her. The world faded to a distant hum.

  She woke to find him gazing at her still. She smiled, reassured by his presence. He brushed a kiss across her mouth. ‘We must go, my love, for there’s a long journey ahead of us on the morrow.’

  She no longer feared that journey into the unknown, for her future would be here, with Saville. ‘Thank you for giving me this perfect day,’ she said they hugged each other for a few, precious moments.

  * * * *

  They arrived back to Rushford at sunset. Charlotte was waiting for them, her face stern. ‘I was just going to organize a search party. Really Saville; Evelyn has just recovered from a serious illness.’

  ‘It was the best day of my life,’ she said simply. ‘I’m not in the least bit tired.’ Evelyn’s face glowed and her eyes were filled with dreams. Charlotte felt a lump in her throat. How wonderfully reassuring that her brother could make a woman look as happy as Evelyn did at that moment.’

  As she gazed from one smiling face to the other Charlotte began to smile too. ‘Do you have something to tell me, then?’

  Saville’s laugh was full-throated. ‘You will be the first to know, after I’ve seen John.’

  ‘Should I arrange a ball in London with you and Evelyn as guests of honor?’

  ‘That would be a very good idea, Charlotte.’ He kissed the top of her head. ‘Now we must change for dinner, else we’ll be late. Is there anything that needs my attention.’

  ‘Nothing urgent. Captain William Younger called. He left a message for you on the table. I think he wanted to thank you for attending his son’s death-bed.’

  Picking up the note, he was about to open it when Evelyn gave a tiny gasp. Her face had assumed an ashen hue.

  ‘What is it, my angel?’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, for she had a dread that her deceit was about to be exposed and, despite Saville’s sincerely expressed words of everlasting love, she feared his reaction and the distaste he would surely feel for her. The hallway began to shift and dim.

  Hastily, Saville shoved the note in his pocket and stepped forward to catch her when she buckled at the knees.

  * * * *

  Graine recovered quickly from her faint, reassuring the earl and his sister that she was able to travel. That same evening she wrote Saville a note, thanking him for the perfect day they’d spent together and professing her love for him in a much more eloquent and poetic manner than she could have told him. She asked his servant to hand it to him in private before they left in the morning.

  The moon was full, its bright, white light keeping her awake. When she heard a dog bark she ran to the window. Dressed only in breeches, a brocade robe tied carelessly at the waist, Saville was siting on the terrace wall below. He was gazing out over the grounds, which were touched with strands of silver moonlight. Nose to the ground, Rebel ran from place to place, his tail swiping at the air.

  ‘Saville,’ she whispered softly, bringing his gaze up to hers.

  His smile melted her. ‘Well met, my lady of the moonlight. The night has enchanted me so I cannot sleep.’

  ‘Nor I.’

  ‘Then, come down and join me, until Rebel tires of chasing hares.’

  Pulling a silk shawl about her shoulders she made her way downstairs, not needing a candle in such luminosity as filtered through the windows.

  The night had a chilly edge to it. ‘I’ll get into trouble with Charlotte if she finds out.’

  ‘She won’t find out if we don’t tell her.’ He pulled the nightcap from her head, tossing it to one side. ‘Your hair is too beautiful to hide under such a garment. When you’re truly mine you’ll be ordered not to wear this cap.’

  ‘One order I’ll be glad to obey, but do not think I shall allow you to have your own way over everything, My Lord.’

  He chuckled, as if the thought amused him. ‘Shall I not, sweeting?’

  He resumed his seat on the wall and, with his arms in possession of her waist pulled her back into his body.’ He kissed her ear, his breath a small caress that sent a cascade of shivers racing along the curve of her neck, so everything inside her flamed into life.

  ‘Oh, that was most unfair of you,’ she murmured. And sensuous, she thought, grinning with the unexpected delight of it. ‘If this is what carnal sinning is all about, I shall apply myself to such business between us with pleasure.’

  He chuckled and rested his chin on her scalp. They stayed like that for a few minutes, their eyes absorbing the magical night, then he lifted her hair and allowed it to trickled through his fingers. ‘It’s like silk.’

  She took his hands and brought them back around her body, holding him there with her hands. ‘I like being in your arms, like this. You make me feel loved.’

  ‘You are loved. ‘His thumbs brushed gently against the undersides of her breasts. When she let his hands go free it was an invitation, and he slid them upwards to cup her in his palms.

  She made a frustrated little sound deep in her throat, wishing there was no material between his hands and her body. Softly, she quoted a few lines from the Merchant of Venice.

  “How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank!

  Here we will sit, and let the sounds of music,

  Creep in our ears: soft stillness and the night

  Becomes the touches of sweet harmony.”

  Immediately, his hands were withdrawn. ‘My pardon, I’m making the situation between us almost unbearable. Go back to bed, my Eve.’

  ‘But I cannot, for you have me held prisoner to your heart.’

  ‘Go, before it’s too late.’

  She twisted to face him. ‘And if I don’t want to go?’

  ‘I’ll have to take you to your chamber, but I cannot guarantee I’ll leave.’ He kissed her, his mouth a tender caress against her trembling bottom lip. ‘Go, I beg of you,’ and there was finality in his voice, now. ‘Anything less could bring about your downfall.’

  She didn’t push the situation for she suddenly remembered that her mother’s sinful nature had brought about her downfall. She had left her only child an orphan, without the protection of a father’s name and carrying the sin of her parentage on her shoulders. Even the Seaton family had found her mother too corrupt to acknowledge. How unfair the rules of society were. Blanche Seaton had been buried in an unmarked grave, and her baby daughter disowned.

  The shame of her background was acute sometimes, as if the blood relationship between herself and her mother had turned her into a soiled creature, which was worth nothing as a human being. When Evelyn had drowned, Graine had lost the only per
son who’d ever shown her true affection. Now Saville had offered her his love and protection, not knowing she was worth less than the dust beneath his feet. She must not to anything to incur his distaste.

  She realized it would be impossible to tell him the truth, for then she’d lose everything. She must not allow the sin she’d inherited from her parents to overcome her good sense, but must remain chaste and modest, however hard it seemed. Lying in Saville’s arms in the moonlight was definitely not good sense.

  Women had to exert the most rigid discipline on themselves, the reverend mother had told her, for as the bible demonstrated, men were easily led into sin by the temptress, Eve. And didn’t Saville always refer to her as his Eve?

  Giving a cry of awareness at her wanton behavior, she gathered her shawl around her and ran into the house. Reaching her chamber, she fell to her knees and prayed to the Lord to save her from the temptation of sin.

  Despite her prayers, Graine slept badly, her conscience troubling her. She could see no end to the problem she’d made for herself. If she told Saville the truth now, she was damned. If she didn’t tell him, there was a possibility that William Younger would––or already had.

  It was a long night of tossing and turning between snatches of sleep. At breakfast she found it hard to appear rested, but Saville didn’t seem to notice. His smile was slightly preoccupied, but loving nevertheless, and his eyes warm with his regard for her. Charlotte was out of sorts with the early hour and grumbled like a bear roused prematurely from hibernation as she picked at her food.

  They departed Rushford in a gold tinted dawn shimmering with mist - two coaches, three personal servants and four outriders, all armed.

  Rebel, held fast to the side of Edmund Scanlon by a short leash, struggled and howled disconsolately as the coaches rolled down the carriageway and out of his sight.