by May Burnett
“Has Mr. Hendrickson left yet?” Cherry asked Jonathan. “He made an excellent impression on me when we briefed him yesterday. If he could find me so quickly in that house where I was hiding, he may find out about my poor mother too, though he said that it was a pretty long shot. I really would like to know what name I was baptised under.”
“Hendrickson is very good at ferreting out secrets,” Jonathan agreed. “He left early this morning. If there is any trace left to find at that inn in Butthorn where the Trellishams adopted you, he will report it to us soon enough.”
“What did he report about us?” Cherry asked.
“He guessed immediately that you were hiding something, love.”
“Hiding myself, rather. Do you really think you can deal with Buckley as easily as you did with Sir Charles?”
“That wasn’t precisely easy,” Jonathan said ruefully, “but I would be very surprised if I could not get Buckley to leave you in peace, Cherry. One way or the other.
Chapter 26
Cherry and Jonathan retrieved the keys to Lobbock Manor from Jonathan’s room at the inn, and sent the key to the dower house to Prune at Spalding Hall by way of the boot boy.
From there the affianced couple walked side by side along the old wall towards the estate’s gate, Jonathan carrying the heavy keys. “I was already going to buy a country estate this summer,” he told Cherry, “but something closer to London, suitable for house parties; much bigger and more ostentatious than Lobbock Manor. I like this house better than the estate I was looking for, but we can still go ahead and buy a second place.”
Cherry pursed her lips. “Why exactly did you want a large country estate? Are you so eager to entertain in style?”
“It is a nuisance to do so for weeks on end, and not good for business to be away so long,” Jonathan said, “but I assumed it would be the kind of activity my future wife would insist on.”
“As far as I am concerned a house in London and this estate in Bellington are perfectly sufficient. If you want to entertain for business purposes, I will do my best to support you as your hostess, but for my own part I feel little desire to organise large house parties.”
“Not even to show off your jewels and expensive clothes?”
Cherry shook her head vehemently. “I got out of that habit long ago, when I began to feel that the way Max paraded me in front of other men had something unwholesome about it. Too many tried to catch my eye when his back was turned, or worse. I like pretty clothes well enough, but these last years I have been dressing like a Methodist and hiding my jewels away. Just as well, as Buckley was thus unaware I had them.”
“As my wife, you will be well protected from other men’s advances, and can dress exactly as you like. I confess I want to see you in elegant clothes, but for my own delight, not that of anyone else.”
“Very well, but I can show my clothes and jewels off perfectly well at concerts, the theatre, and other people’s entertainments. And I do not plan to be extravagant. I had much rather have money in the bank than more jewels, after the difficulty we have had selling my present ones.”
Jonathan shook his head critically. “Your husband never settled a jointure on you? Sir Charles should have insisted on it before your marriage.”
“Since he did not settle any dowry on me, he had no standing to make demands on Max, and I was too young and ignorant to think of it. One does not, you know, when getting married at nineteen.”
“The bride should not have to worry, but that is what parents and guardians normally haggle over. My friend James told me that his brother, Lord Amberley, was chafing greatly under the month-long delays over settlements, before he could marry Lord Pell’s sister. But if anything should happen to Amberley, his widow will be well provided for. I want the same to be true of you. It will allow me to sleep better.”
“I won’t refuse your generosity, Jonathan, but I hope very much never to be widowed again. Once was quite enough. I plan to take very good care of your health.”
“You already did, that night when I had the fever,” Jonathan reminded her. “I will take care of you as well, but I hope you never fall so ill. I don’t know if my nerves could stand it.”
“How often will we be here in Bellington? In the ten years I was married to Max, we only came here twice for visits of about three weeks each time. I would have liked to come more often, but Max was reluctant to be away from his business too long.”
“I fear I have been equally reluctant to travel much,” Jonathan confessed. “I am planning to delegate more, and to spend less time at the office. I have not been to the theatre in months, although I’m very fond of it. I don’t much care for opera, on the other hand.”
“I prefer the theatre too … I’ll make sure that you don’t bury yourself in work. I want your promise that you’ll tell me if there are major reverses, and don’t try to keep serious problems private, out of a misguided feeling that I should be spared worry.”
“As I don’t plan to have any serious reverses that is an easy promise to make.”
They arrived at the courtyard outside the house’s main entrance and stopped to scrutinize the building. “The windows are in dire need of cleaning,” Cherry said disapprovingly. “We should engage the staff back immediately. This is a major endeavour, bringing the house back to life.”
“Here, you do the honours,” Jonathan said, handing the keys to her. “This is your domain as of today. I shall make sure the estate is yours in the settlements, so that you will have this house, whatever may befall, close to your sisters.”
“That is much more useful and welcome than the most expensive jewels.” Cherry stopped on the three steps leading up to the door, and pulled Jonathan’s head down for a thorough kiss. Both were breathing hard, and flushed, when they pulled apart.
“I am already repaid,” Jonathan said. “I think it is this key there, the big one with the double beard.” So it proved, and soon they found themselves inside the front hall, looking at the old staircase in the dim light. Of one accord, they began to draw back the heavy curtains, to let in the daylight.
“It must be some twelve years since I was last in here,” Cherry said, looking around. “But nothing much has changed. The staircase is beautiful, a shame that it has not been swept for all this time.”
“That is nothing, come here.” Jonathan took her hand and pulled Cherry towards the picture gallery, where he released her to draw back the curtains.
“Oh!” She stood and stared.
“Have you not seen this before?”
“No. The few times I was here, it was with the Selbington children, usually for some family birthday. This gallery was never shown to us, and no wonder – they would have thought the Judith completely unsuitable to young girls of our tender years. I had not the least idea that such museum-quality art was hanging anywhere in Bellington.” She made a half-turn, looking from one picture to the next with amazement.
“So you agree with me on the value of these paintings? I was not going to buy the estate, but I changed my mind when I saw them. I did warn Paul, more than once, that he should get them appraised, but he insisted on including them in the estate sale.”
“If that Judith isn’t a Rubens, I’ll eat my red wig.”
“What do you think of the still life with the dead hare?”
“It is masterfully done, but I cannot like it,” Cherry pronounced. “The bloody hare is bad enough, adding a skull was too much. It is an effective memento mori, but not one I would want to hang on my dining room wall. If you are going to sell any of these pictures, this one would not be much missed.”
“Paul also detested it. I’m not planning on selling any of these paintings, not even the hare, though I agree it is depressing. I suggest we put it in a guest room where we can house visitors we do not much care for.”
“I hope you are joking. As a hostess I would not treat anyone like that, - well, maybe Sir Charles, but he’s not likely to stay here, since his own Hall is wit
hin walking distance.”
“My favourite picture is a girl with a flute that hangs in the library.”
“Another room I have never seen - show me, please.”
They went to admire the possible Van Dyck, and the books. “I wonder that Paul, as a scholar, left nearly all the books,” Jonathan observed. “Even if his house is much smaller, I would have expected him to take more with him.”
“He is passionately devoted to linguistic studies of ancient Greek and Persian,” Cherry explained. “Even Latin is too modern for his tastes. You can be sure he took every single book that fit into his own specialty, and maybe some others for his pupils to practice on, but anything else would be of little interest to him.”
“So much the better for us.” Jonathan stared at the empty grate of the fireplace. “Would you say that I acted unethically, by buying this place for a lump sum?”
“Paul is a grown man, and his sisters had seen the pictures and books as well,” Cherry said. “Besides, value is a very subjective thing, is it not? He might have had to wait for months before finding another willing buyer, and Patch and he would not be calling the banns this Sunday, or Miss Selbington be planning to marry Jack Minton, had you not come here. You bought hogs and a derelict saw mill as well, that you cannot tell me you ever wanted to own.”
“No, indeed. The thought of the hogs was nearly enough to put me off the purchase, though they are profitable enough. I am told that when the wind is in a certain quarter, the smell comes all the way here to the Manor.”
“So it cannot be said that all the advantage of the purchase was on your side. Let it go, Jonathan. Have you inspected the upstairs rooms as well?”
“Not yet,” he confessed. “The sight of the gallery and library made me forget all my commercial prudence. I made an immediate offer that Paul accepted then and there. I never got to inspect the rest of the house.”
“Let’s do it now, come on.”
They climbed the staircase in silence, looking around at the worn carpets, the huge old-fashioned candleholder hanging from the ceiling on sturdy chains, and the framed copper prints on the walls. Starting from one side of the first-floor corridor, they opened all the doors and the curtains of every room just enough to see the furnishings clearly.
“I like the dimensions very much,” Cherry said. “Some of the carpets and furniture should be replaced, and at least half the curtains.”
“This seems to be the master’s room,” Jonathan said, gazing at a room much larger than the others they had seen. The wardrobe still held Sir Jasper Lobbock’s clothes and boots, and on a small side table a pipe seemed to be waiting for its owner.
“It looks melancholy now, but it is a good room,” Cherry said, looking around critically.
“I feel no desire at all to sleep on that mattress,” Jonathan said, “the whole room should be thoroughly refurbished and cleaned out before we use it, don’t you agree?”
“Most emphatically. Where does this little door lead?” They turned the key in the lock and found another bedroom of nearly equal size.
“The room reserved for the lady of the house.” Cherry scrutinized it with interest. “At least this wardrobe is empty. The last Lady Lobbock died when we were only five years old, before I came to live with the Spaldings. He did not keep her things, and I’m glad.”
“What do you think of this arrangement, Cherry, having separate rooms with a connecting door?”
“I suppose it will be useful if we find that one of us snores,” Cherry said with a smile. “It is the customary arrangement in houses of this size. My parents – the Trellishams, I mean – shared one bedroom, as far as I can remember.”
“That sounds like a much better arrangement to me. I daresay I can get used to your snores, Cherry.”
“Beast – if one of us does snore, I am sure it will be you. Never mind, we can find some accommodation that suits us both. If necessary I will put wax in my ears.”
Jonathan felt hot under the collar from this risqué conversation, and was glad once again that his bride was no shy ingénue, but a grown-up woman with whom he could talk openly.
They went on, coming to a large corner bedroom with blue silk wallpaper and furniture from the previous century, including a beautiful writing desk.
“I like this room best,” Cherry decided. “While I live here, and get the place in shape, I shall make this my own.”
“It feels comfortable and inviting,” Jonathan agreed. “So you like the colour blue? Or at least this particular shade? A gown like that would suit you. It is a pity that I have only seen you in black and dull white so far.”
“I prefer colours myself,” Cherry said, sitting down on the rim of the bed and giving the mattress an experimental bounce. The sight robbed him of his speech, and he swallowed convulsively. Why was this deserted bedroom so very hot?
“We will be parted for some time,” Cherry said thoughtfully. She had stopped bouncing, and was passing her hand casually along the soft counterpane. He could not tear his gaze from the movement, conscious with every fibre of his body of the suggestive situation: alone in the house, in a bedroom, with the most desirable woman he had ever met – the woman who was going to be his wife in a few months’ time. Months that suddenly loomed like a desert to be traversed in acute longing and deprivation. He would go out of his mind, courting Cherry that long without the chance to do more than kissing.
Watching him, she slowly smiled. Her red lips drew his gaze, and he thought he would burst with desire. She had to know it too, the vixen. What was she about?
“You look like a starving man looking at a banquet, Jonathan. Do you think I am so cruel as to keep you in that state for months on end? Courting a widow is not the same as courting a shy young debutante. We need not wait until the wedding, as long as we are discreet.”
He loved that she did not beat about the bush, but said clearly what was on both their minds.
“Cherry – are you saying what I think you are saying? Don’t tease me, love. I am willing to wait until we are married, even if I go out of my mind in the meantime. I would not want you to do anything you are not comfortable with, or that would weigh on your conscience.”
“Uncomfortable? Jonathan, I want your kisses, your caresses, your embrace just as much as you want me. Can’t you tell? And will you always be so resistant to seduction?”
The taunt was too much. Resistant, when he was about to spontaneously ignite just from looking at her?
“Enough,” Jonathan growled, and wrapped Cherry in his arms for a possessive kiss that foreshadowed the delights to come.
With both of them allowing their passions free reign, matters proceeded with marvellous ease and smoothness. Jonathan’s most vivid dreams of Cherry were far surpassed by the reality. Making love to her was unlike any previous experience he could remember – she was like liquid fire in his arms, endlessly fascinating. Best of all, she was beautifully responsive and wholeheartedly enjoyed their exertions, not hiding how much she was affected. Never had he hoped to find a wife this passionate and sensual.
“That was beyond words … you are a houri, a siren, a seductress,” he said eventually, when he’d regained his breath. “The weeks of separation, until you join me in London, will be much harder to bear now that I know what I am missing.”
“So much the better – I would not want you to forget me, or look elsewhere.”
“As though that were possible! After this, I won’t even look at any other woman. They will seem like cold tea, when I’ve tasted the finest champagne.” He kissed her again.
Cherry tenderly put her hand on his cheek. “You are a wonderful lover, Jonathan. I eagerly look forward to the time when we can enjoy such pleasure every night.”
“I didn’t have a sheath with me,” Jonathan realised, sitting up and looking around for his discarded garments, thrown every which way in the heat of passion.
“Remember that we are to marry,” Cherry said blithely. “Speaking for myself, it w
ould be my greatest joy to find myself carrying your child.”
“It may happen yet. I certainly intend to devote my utmost efforts to the project.”
“Are you up to another attempt right now, when we are so conveniently naked and alone?”
“You will find that I rise to such challenges with ease,” Jonathan replied, and proceeded to prove that it had not been an idle boast.
Chapter 27
May 1823
Jonathan’s return to London could not have been more different from the journey in the other direction. The sun shone nearly without interruption, though not with so much heat as to prove uncomfortable. He had taken the best-sprung coach to be had in Norwich. True to a promise to Cherry he made time for brisk walk every day, at places of particular historic interest that she had suggested, being more familiar with the route. Cherry had promised in return never to leave her new home without the protection of two stout footmen. Keeping his promise was by no means easy, for Jonathan felt impatient to arrive in London and tackle his long list of new tasks. He had never felt more energetic.
When he was not daydreaming about all the things he wanted to do with Cherry, Jonathan spent the long hours plotting Buckley’s downfall. Cherry had indignantly vetoed the suggestion that her late husband’s debts might simply be paid off. The company’s bankruptcy had wiped them away, she maintained. Cherry believed that Buckley had deliberately drawn Randolph into his clutches, and that he should on no account be rewarded for this investment. She wanted him punished instead.
Upon consideration, Jonathan decided the man must be removed from London altogether. He could not bear the thought that Cherry might suddenly come face to face with her tormentor at some future moment.
Almost his first appointment, back in town, was with a magistrate to whom Buckley was not unknown.
“We don’t have any proof, though we know he had two men killed, business rivals who stood in his way,” Sir Boyd Leicester told Jonathan. They were in a separate lunch room at the Charybdis Club, which was proving very useful for Jonathan’s more discreet business meetings. “If he learns that you are trying to catch him, your own life might well be in danger.”
