by Mary Nichols
‘I thought you did.’
‘The Temple family did once upon a time. Now it belongs to Miss Charlotte Cartwright, a neighbour of mine.’
‘Then I suggest you enlighten the lady before she does anything illegal.’ The professor smiled, rolled the documents up again and handed them back. ‘Take care of them, they are priceless.’
Roland was still laughing as he left the building and returned to the hotel.
‘There you are, Major,’ Travers said, nodding towards a tall figure standing by the hearth. ‘Captain Hartley’s here.’
Roland hurried forward to greet him. ‘Did you bring the boy?’
‘No, his mother would not let him come, but I mean to take up Dr Masterson’s offer.’
‘Good. Travers, go and order refreshments to be brought up.’ And as Travers left to obey, Roland turned back to Miles. ‘Sit down, please. I’m sorry for the poor state of my accommodation. It was all there was to be had.’
‘You will be glad to go home, then.’
‘Yes, when my business is done.’
‘I should think it is done. I am to tell you that Miss Brandon is now affianced to Mr Elliott, and to give you this. It arrived at the Hall just as I was leaving.’
Roland took the brown paper package and quickly undid it. It contained a sheaf of official-looking documents. There was an accompanying letter signed by Jacob Edwards on Miss Cartwright’s behalf and asking for his signature on the agreement. A swift scrutiny told him what the documents were. Deeds to Browhill. After all their fighting, all her intransigence and his obstinacy, she had simply sent them to him. He turned everything over. There was not a word of explanation, nothing from her personally at all.
‘Not bad news, I hope?’ Miles queried, watching the changing expressions flit across his friend’s face.
He considered the question. Was it good or bad? What on earth had been in Charlotte’s mind? If she thought he would simply sign as requested without asking questions, then she was sadly mistaken. Travers had come back into the room. ‘Pack,’ he told him. ‘We are going back to Amerleigh.’
‘Yes, sir!’ Travers was grinning from ear to ear.
‘I will have to leave you to see Dr Masterson on your own, Miles. I have urgent business at home.’
Two hours later he was in a coach going north, travelling at the pace of a snail on account of unseasonable fog. Nothing the passengers could do would make the coachman go any faster. ‘I ain’t risking my horses, for you nor nobody,’ he said when they grumbled.
‘At this pace, we’ll be on the road a se’ ennight,’ Travers said gloomily, as the coach crawled along the dark roads. Once they nearly collided with the mail coming in the opposite direction and only the skill of both sets of coachmen averted a disaster, which proved how right their driver was to be cautious. Roland, as anxious as his servant to reach their destination, could only sit back and contain himself in patience, ruminating on what foolish notion Charlotte had taken into her head. After all, he had told her he had dropped the claim. Was she feeling smug because she could afford the grand gesture, that if he made a concession, then she could make a greater one? Was ever a woman more contrary!
On the second day, the fog began to lift and their driver, determined to make up for lost time, set the horses galloping. It was enough to stop all normal conversation and make the passengers hang on to their seats. They pulled into the inn at Shrewsbury at seven o’clock the following morning, several hours behind schedule.
As soon as they alighted and their bags were unloaded, they hired horses to take them to Amerleigh. They took the path over the hills, just as they had done when they had arrived in the spring. Was that only five months before? He paused when they topped the brow and could see Mandeville nestling in the hollow. There was no sign of its owner.
They continued down the hill and to the road from Scofield to Amerleigh, reminding him of the night of the Lady Gilford’s ball and Charlotte’s party. Had he been in love with her then? He had certainly not admitted it and, if anyone had suggested it, would have laughed. Marry the hoyden! He had gone away six years before to avoid it; little did he realise he would obey his father posthumously. After he had got to the bottom of her latest outrage. Suddenly he could not wait.
‘You go on,’ he said to Travers. ‘I have a call to make.’ And with that he turned his horse and cantered back up the road and into the gates of Mandeville.
Lady Ratcliffe was still abed and Charlotte was in the drawing room alone when she heard a horse coming up the drive, but she paid it no particular attention. She started up when a footman came to announce the Earl of Amerleigh and to ask if she would receive him. The words were hardly out of the man’s mouth when Roland appeared in the doorway. ‘Miss Cartwright, your obedient.’ He handed his hat to the footman who took it away, closing the door behind him.
He was not in uniform, but wearing a frock coat and pantaloons tucked into shining Hessians, very different from the picture she had carried in her head of when she had last seen him, in soaking wet shirt and breeches and his hair plastered to his head with water and blood. She rose and curtsied. ‘My lord. I had not realised you were come home.’
‘I have just arrived.’
‘To stay?’
‘Yes, most decidedly to stay.’
‘I am glad.’
‘Are you?’ He moved closer to her and took both her hands in his, searching her face. Her hazel eyes were bright and there were two bright spots of pink on her cheeks.
‘Yes,’ she said, withdrawing her hands and hiding them in the folds of her gown. It was a lemon-coloured silk, not her usual grey working garb because she meant to call on the Countess later that morning. ‘Did you see Captain Hartley?’
‘I did indeed. I left him going to see Dr Masterson.’
‘Good. I have been talking to the Countess about the school for deaf children. When you have more pupils, it cannot continue in the schoolroom at the Hall. I have offered a farmhouse on my estate, which has recently become vacant. Now you are home you can come and see it and tell me what you think. Of course, we can do nothing until Captain Hartley comes back, but we could make a start on the alterations.’ She rattled on, hardly giving herself time to pause for breath.
‘Charlotte, will you stop prattling on about that school,’ he said in exasperation. ‘I have a bone to pick with you…’
‘Oh.’
‘Yes. If you imagine I am going to put my name to that document you had sent to me, you are very mistaken. I said I had dropped the lawsuit and I meant it. Why could you not let it be? Must you always have the last word?’
‘I could not keep the land, not after…’ She gulped and rushed on before her courage evaporated. ‘Your father was right, he was cheated out of it.’
The news was enough to divert him from what he intended to say. ‘How do you know?’
She went to a davenport in the corner of the room and came back with a piece of paper. ‘Read that.’
He skimmed it quickly. ‘So?’
‘Look at the date. Do you remember the date of that ball?’
‘Yes.’
‘And do you know when my father acquired Browhill?’
‘No.’ He was puzzled.
‘It was three weeks after that date.’ She tapped the piece of paper he still held. ‘Now, do you see?’
He did. ‘Oh, Charlotte, it is you who are blind. I do not care one groat about Browhill. I do not want it. What I want is you…you, not the owner of mines, not the owner of mills and plantations and fine houses, not the owner of anything, except my heart. That I do care about. Now do you see?’
She hardly dared breathe for fear it was all a dream and he was a figment of her imagination and a puff of wind would send him back into the ether from which he had come.
He grabbed her hands again and pulled her down to sit beside him. ‘Charlotte, forget about those deeds. I should like to take up our conversation where we left it off…’
‘Where
was that, my lord?’
‘I asked you to marry me and you refused, but I had not done telling you how much I wished for it and how delightful it would be for us to become man and wife.’ He paused because her lips had parted and were inviting to be kissed. It was a full minute before he could go on. ‘We could do that all the time,’ he said, smiling at her because her response had confirmed him in his belief that she was as warm and generous-hearted as he had always known her to be. ‘And more besides. Can I not prevail upon you to change your mind?’
She wanted to say yes, truly she did, but there was still something holding her back, still the inability to let go. ‘I do not know, there is so much to think about…’
‘Your business, I suppose,’ he said, half-expecting it. ‘It will always come between us and yet I cannot see why it should. I do not want to take it from you. It is yours, part of you, part of what makes you the wonderful woman you are and I would never want to change that. I will not interfere unless you ask me to.’ He laughed suddenly.
‘What is so funny?’
He told her about the documents and Professor Lundy. ‘So, you see, my darling, we have been fighting over nothing at all excepting a few acres of grass.’
She stared at him. The businesswoman, the employer, had not disappeared and his words woke her from her dreams. ‘Does that mean the mine must be shut down? It will put good men out of work.’
‘No, my love, I would not suggest that. We can always apply for the mining rights. It might be that, after all this time, they have gone by default anyway.’
‘I am being a complete ninny, aren’t I?’ she said on a sigh. ‘I wish I had never grown up thinking that nothing matters but business, that everything boils down to profit. I wish I had learned some of the feminine wiles that young ladies use to get their way.’
‘I don’t.’
She looked up at him in surprise. ‘You don’t?’
‘No. It is the woman you are that I have come to love. I would not wish you to change anything about you, except to wish you would listen to me sometimes.’
‘I am listening.’
‘This is the last time I come chasing after you,’ he said, though he was smiling as he said it. ‘A man can only stand so much. Now, are you going to give me a straight answer to my question or are you not?’
‘Answer to what question, my lord?’ She was shaking. She, who prided herself on having no nerves, was afraid of taking the biggest decision of her life.
‘Will you marry me?’
She was silent, looking up at him. ‘Are you sure?’
‘I am certain. Will this convince you?’ And he took her face in his hands and lowered his mouth to hers. It was not a kiss of raging passion, but of great tenderness. She felt her limbs go weak and clung to him, knowing that in his arms she could forget everything except this wondrous love. He drew back at last and studied her face. Her eyes were bright, her cheeks pink and her lips slightly parted; there was a glow about her. A strand of hair had fallen about her face and he carefully brushed it aside. ‘Now, are you convinced I mean it? I love you. I want you for my wife and all I need to know is if you love me enough to put everything else aside and say yes.’
‘Yes.’
‘Thank the Lord for that,’ he said with feeling and kissed her again.
‘But we must not tell anyone, not yet.’
‘Why not? I want to shout it from the rooftops.’
‘Martha,’ she reminded him.
‘What about her? She’s going to marry her Mr Elliott, isn’t she?’
‘Yes, but there is bound to be gossip. It is only two weeks since…’
‘You are not worried about a little tattle, are you?’ Roland teased her.
She laughed. ‘Perhaps you are right. And who am I to worry about gossip? After all, I am a hoyden.’
‘It is the hoyden I love, but no one else will dare say it after we are married. You will be a Countess.’
‘That was not why I said yes.’
‘I know that, I was only teasing.’
She took his hand. ‘Let us go and tell my great-aunt and then we can go back to Amerleigh and see your mother together.’
Lady Ratcliffe, who was in the drawing room and knew perfectly well that the two young people were closeted in the library, was overjoyed. ‘I knew it would happen,’ she said, as they drank champagne to celebrate. ‘It was so right. But where will you live?’
Roland and Charlotte looked at each other. ‘Well?’ he asked her.
‘Amerleigh Hall,’ she said.
He looked about him at the luxurious room. ‘Are you sure you can bear to give this up for the Hall?’
‘Houses are only bricks and mortar, timber and glass,’ she said. ‘It is wrong to become too attached to such things.’
‘True,’ he said, thoughtfully. ‘That was why my father found himself in such dire straits; he valued his house and rank above his means to maintain either.’
‘And my father valued Mandeville as a status symbol, something to prove to his detractors that he could buy anything. It is a show house, not something to be loved in the way people are loved. I have only just learned that.’
‘Hurrah!’ he said, making Lady Ratcliffe smile.
‘But we cannot leave Mandeville empty and unused,’ Charlotte said. ‘Supposing we use it for our school?’
‘Oh, no,’ her ladyship said, horrified by the thought. ‘All this lovely furniture and priceless objects in the hands of a crowd of rough schoolboys. They will not last five minutes.’
Charlotte laughed. ‘I was not proposing to hand it over as it is; it must be adapted. Roland, if you are willing, I can bring the best pieces to Amerleigh Hall and sell the rest. I could do with the proceeds to help with the repairs to the Fair Charlie and the improvements I mean to make at the mill…’ She stopped suddenly. ‘Oh, I forgot, they will not be mine, will they?’
‘To all intents and purposes they will,’ he said. ‘At least until you have other things to occupy you. Then it will be up to you what you do.’ He paused, smiling at the prospect of Charlotte as a mother. He had no doubt she would make an excellent parent. ‘We can go into the details later and let Jacob and Mountford sort it out. Shall we go back to Amerleigh Hall now and spread the good news?’
The wedding took place two months later with everyone in the village and even further afield present. The Countess was overjoyed at the outcome that she, like Lady Ratcliffe, had always believed was right for both young people. They sat at the front, one on either side of the aisle, and behind them were ranged the rest of the congregation. On the groom’s side was Geoffrey, who realised, without rancour, he was unlikely to remain Roland’s heir much longer, and his wife; Captain Hartley, recently returned from London; Charles Mountford and the villagers and the estate workers. Behind Lady Ratcliffe were the mine and mill managers, Lord and Lady Brandon and Martha, whose engagement to Mr Martin Elliott had recently been celebrated with a ball at Scofield Place. He sat beside her, thoroughly pleased with himself and grateful to the Earl for his living. The Rector took his place before the altar as the bride made her entrance.
She wore a heavy brocade dress in a rich cream colour. Her hair had been partially tamed and was held in place by a circlet of flowers. She looked radiant as she walked up the aisle on Jacob Edward’s arm. In the absence of male relatives she had asked him to give her away and, though it grieved him to know he had lost her, he could not have lost her to a better man.
Roland was waiting for her, dressed in a tail coat of deep blue, cream trousers, held by straps under his shoes. His waistcoat matched the cream brocade of Charlotte’s dress. Everyone rose as she reached him. The service began and Miss Charlotte Cartwright became the Countess of Amerleigh. The diamond ring that sealed the union was the one Roland had brought back from the Peninsula.
Afterwards there was a reception at Amerleigh Hall to which everyone, young and old, high and low, were invited. The pieces of furniture and ornaments brought
from Mandeville fitted in beautifully and the old house shone with love and attention. Mandeville was in the process of being converted into a school. ‘It was worth the long wait,’ Roland whispered to her as they moved among their guests. ‘But now I am impatient to have you to myself.’
She laughed. ‘Soon, Roland, soon. Good things are worth waiting for.’
They were to have one night at Amerleigh Hall and then travel to France and Spain for their honeymoon. He was going to take her to visit Count Caparosso, whom he had to thank for the jewels. If it had not been for those, he could not have begun on the work in Amerleigh and he would not have been in a position to marry Charlotte. For that the Count would have his eternal gratitude.
Their guests dispersed at last and they were alone. Roland took her into his arms and kissed her over and over again, and though she protested that it was too early to retire, he led her up to their bedroom where he proceeded to show her exactly how much he loved her and she, nervous but delighted, learned that material things were not important, that loving and being loved could overcome all obstacles, all doubts, all misunderstandings.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-5232-9
THE EARL AND THE HOYDEN
Copyright © 2008 by Mary Nichols
First North American Publication 2010
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
