"One each," he said.
"Two for His Lordship," she replied firmly.
"Fiddlesticks."
"Here's a letter for you." She handed it to him and went in to the dining room to give him privacy while he read it. As she had half expected it was a letter from the bishop, informing her that the Reverend Steven Daykers would soon be arriving to take up his position as vicar at Fardale, and he trusted that she would etc. etc.
"Oh Lord!"
She looked around to see that John had followed her into the dining room, a letter in his hand and a look of dismay on his face.
"What's the matter?"
"We have visitors coming this afternoon. I hope they will only stay for tea, but they might want to spend the night here."
Rena gave a cry.
"That's impossible. You can't let them come!" she exclaimed. "The bedrooms are terrible! Your room is the best of the bunch, but even that needs a wash and a great deal doing to it."
"I shut my eyes when I am undressing, and look out of the window when I am dressing," the Earl said drolly.
"Very ingenious, but we couldn't count on your visitors to do the same. You really must not let them stay."
There was silence for a moment, and she wondered if she'd offended him.
Then he said slowly, "I think I should be honest and tell you that the man who is coming here is exceedingly rich. I met him when I was in India and when he heard - I suppose from the newspapers - that I had come into the Earldom, he looked me up and told me that he was very anxious to see my ancestral home."
"To see your - ancestral - home?" she echoed in a stunned voice.
In silence they both looked around them. They looked up at the grimy ceilings, around at the peeling walls, and down at the shabby furniture.
"He's going to get a shock, isn't he?" she said at last.
"A considerable shock," John said grimly. "I only wish I thought it would scare him off."
"Why do you want to scare him off?"
"Because I have a horrid feeling I know what he wants of me. We met when I was a penniless sailor and he asked me to a dance he was giving for his daughter, to make up the numbers, I believe. Well, I'm still penniless, but now I have a title."
"You mean - ?" "What this man really wants - and I am quite certain it is what he will say when he gets here, is for me to marry his daughter!" Rena gave a little gasp. "Why should you do that," she asked, "unless you have fallen in love with her?" He was silent for a moment, and she felt a strange chill come over her heart. "No, I'm not in love with her," he said. "But if her father's money can restore The Grange and make the people here prosperous again, it couldn't possibly be my duty, could it? No!" He checked himself, turned sharply and strode back into the kitchen. Rena stayed where she was for a moment. She was glad that he hadn't waited for her reply to that question, because she was not sure that she would have known how to answer. After a minute she followed him into the kitchen, and began making his breakfast. "Why was I even thinking like that?" he asked. "Of course I shan't marry where I do not love. If I marry, it will be to a woman I love, who will make me happy, even if we are not particularly rich." "I think you're right," she said, concentrating on what she was doing, and not looking at him. "But you don't think I'll keep to my resolution?" he asked, shooting her a look.
"I think it could be hard for you if he says he'll restore The Grange. Suppose he gives you enough money to repair it and bring the estate to life again. You could spend your life, in future, as a country gentleman, with of course, horses and dogs to verify it."
There was silence for a moment. Then the Earl walked to the window in the kitchen and stood looking out. Rena thought he was looking at the part of the kitchen garden which was desperately untidy.
There were a few cabbages and onions, but for each one of them, there were at least a dozen weeds.
"I suppose," she mused, "if she loved you, you would perhaps, in time, come to love her."
She wanted to add 'and her money', but thought that sounded rude.
John turned from the window and said in a very positive tone, which seemed somehow to echo round the kitchen: "I will not sell myself for what they call in the Bible, 'a mess of pottage.' Although it might now be thousands of pounds."
"Well done."
"I would rather starve than find myself married to a woman for whom I have no feelings, and be subservient to a man with whom I have nothing in common."
He spoke almost violently.
"But what else can you do?" Rena asked.
"What did you say?"
"Perhaps you should think hard before saying no." She didn't know why she was urging him to a course of action that she would hate, but there seemed to be a little demon inside her playing Devil's Advocate.
"You must remember how dilapidated the house is already. The villagers thought the roof would fall in last Christmas when we had a great deal of snow. By a miracle, it survived, but I doubt if it will next winter."
He gave her a strange smile.
"Rena, are you urging me to marry for money?"
"No, not exactly, but - are you wise to make a grand gesture, if you might regret it afterwards? This place already means a lot to you. Maybe it will come to mean everything. If you turn down the chance to restore this estate, maybe one day you will regret it."
She found she was holding her breath for his answer. And for some reason it was desperately important.
"The only thing I will regret," he said at last, "is putting money before everything. Rena, I've learned to trust in fortune. I inherited this property after everyone had been quite certain there was no heir to the Earldom. I found you, and you found the hidden glories beneath the ancient cross."
"Yes," she said, glowing with happiness. "Yes!"
He took her hands. "Don't you see, there is more to come. Much more. The future is full of surprises that we can't imagine, but which are waiting for us."
His fervent tone convinced her. This was something he really felt, just as she would feel the same in his position.
"Do I sound like a madman to you?" he asked anxiously.
"Not at all. I know just what you mean?"
"I knew you'd understand. Anyone else would have me put under restraint for such wild talk, but not you. We've only known each other a few hours, and yet already you're the best friend I have. I can tell you things I could tell nobody else. So, keep your hand in mine, my dear friend, and nothing can defeat us."
CHAPTER FOUR
With only time to clean one room they settled on the drawing room. John helped her, and proved more adept than she had feared.
"It's being in the Navy," he said. "A man develops certain domestic skills."
He joined her for tea in the kitchen, while she worked out the refreshments she would serve their guests.
"Tell me more about Mr. Wyngate," she said.
"He's a bit of a mystery man. Nobody knows exactly where he came from, or how he got the money he started with. There's a rumour that his name isn't even Wyngate, but nobody knows the truth about that either. However he started, he made a vast fortune in American railroads."
"You mean he's American?"
"Not necessarily. That's just the first place anybody heard of him. He turned up in America, with money that he invested in railroads, and made a fortune, helped, it is said, by marrying an American lady who had money. She died over there a few years ago.
"Then he came to England and started investing in railways here. He might have been looking for fresh fields to conquer, or he might have been English to start with and returned to his roots, but - "
"Nobody knows," she finished with him.
"Exactly right. He made another fortune here, then took his daughter and went travelling. I met him in India eighteen months ago, when my ship docked at Bombay. He'd taken over the entire Hotel Raj, and was busy competing with the local Maharajah to see who could spend the most money, the most ostentatiously.
"He gave a bal
l for his daughter Matilda. I did hear that he'd invited the Viceroy as well, but received a polite refusal, which incensed him. In fact it was rather thin of European guests because nobody liked him very much. He made up the numbers by issuing an invitation to the senior officers of my ship, The Achilles, and that's how I came to be there.
"He writes to me as if we'd formed an eternal friendship, but that was my only meeting with him. I've heard a lot about him, but it's the silences that tell the most."
"Silences?"
"If you mention his name people go silent, like birds when a hawk has flown over. He's rich enough to buy anything in the world - or he thinks he is. The trouble is, he's too often right. So many people will sell if the offer is great enough, and now he can't imagine anybody saying no."
"Does the young woman want to marry you?" Rena asked quietly. "What kind of a person is she?"
"I only met her once, at the ball, and formed very little impression of her personality."
"Is she pretty?" Rena asked, busying herself with mixing a cake.
"Not really. She's very quiet, and some men might find that charming. But me - I don't know - she's not for me. I like a woman who has more to say for herself."
"Then you're different to most men," Rena observed, smiling. "Most of them like a woman who keeps quiet and lets them do the talking."
"Indeed?" He raised his eyebrows quizzically. "And may I ask how you obtained this vast knowledge?"
"From my mother," she laughed. "Who obtained it from her mother, doubtless. Gentlemen do not like a chatterbox. Gentlemen do not like a woman who puts forward her opinions, especially if they are contrary to their own. In fact a real lady has no opinions."
"Heavens! What a bore! I must say, it sounds just like Matilda Wyngate. Poor girl. I don't mean to be unkind to her. She'd be the perfect wife for a man of a different temperament to me."
"I feel rather sorry for her!" said Rena. "Perhaps she has no idea what her father is planning."
"Perhaps. I can just imagine him not bothering to tell her. Once he'd made his plans, he's just the sort of man to dispense with other people's feelings as an unnecessary extra.
"He simply can't imagine that there are things his money can't buy him."
Rena gave a sigh.
"I am afraid there are a great many people like that in the world," she said. "Papa used to say that although we were poor, we should always appreciate the beautiful things in life."
"What were they?" the Earl asked as if the way she had spoken made him curious.
Rena smiled. "The sun, the moon, the stars," she replied. "And so many other things, too many to mention."
"That's just the sort of thing you would say," he told her. "I am beginning to think you aren't real, but a part of the magic cross you showed me in the woods. Also the sunshine, which, although you may not know it, is turning your hair to gold."
"Don't let Mr. Wyngate hear you saying things like that," she reproved. "I understand that it means nothing, but he won't."
John looked as if he wanted to say something, but stopped himself. Then he took a sharp breath.
"Why, that's it! I'll say that you're my wife!"
"John, do be sensible."
"Wouldn't you like to be my wife?" he sounded hurt.
"If you don't take care you'll find yourself engaged to me, and then I'll bring an action for breach of promise, and you'll really be in a pickle."
"Only if I tried to get out of it. I might insist on marrying you. What would you do then?"
"Don't make me laugh when I'm beating eggs," she begged. "It's dangerous."
"Yes, you just flipped some on my nose. Anyway, you couldn't sue me for breach of promise." His eyes were twinkling.
"Indeed, sir? And do you often ask girls if they would 'like to be your wife'?"
"Every day," he assured her. "But I always make sure there are no witnesses. Then there's nothing they can do when I behave like a cad, and vanish."
She was speechless.
He grinned at the sight of her indignant face.
"I learned that from one of my shipmates," he said. "He had a considerable career of that kind. In fact I think he joined the Navy one jump ahead of an outraged father."
"I think you're quite disgraceful. And so was he."
"Yes, he was. Of course it isn't funny if it's real, but I would never actually behave in such a way. I hope you know that."
"What I know or don't know is neither here nor there," she said, concentrating on the eggs. Something in his tone as he spoke the last words had made the air sing about her ears.
"It isn't me you have to impress," she added.
"Well I wouldn't like you to think badly of me, Rena. For any reason."
She regarded him quizzically. "My Lord, since we've met you have set me to work in a beetle infested oven, struck me down and rolled me around on a dusty carpet. Why on earth would I think badly of you?"
He began to shake with laughter, which grew and grew until he put his head down on his arms on the table, and rocked with mirth. Rena stood there, regarding him with delight.
At last he raised his head and mopped his streaming eyes. Then he got to his feet and came round the table, took the bowl from her hand and engulfed her in an enormous bear hug, swinging her round and round the kitchen, while his laughter went on.
"John," she protested, laughing too now, because she couldn't help it. This delightful madman had overwhelmed her with his riotous love of life and her head was spinning, joyfully.
"Rena, you are wonderful," he cried. "Wonderful, wonderful, WONDERFUL!"
"John - "
"There isn't another woman in the world who would put up with me as you do. Maybe I ought to marry you after all."
"Stop your nonsense," she said, trying to speak clearly through the thumping of her heart. "You need an heiress."
"Curses! So I do." He released her reluctantly. "What a bore!"
Rena turned away and got on with her work, hoping that he couldn't see that she was flustered.
It meant nothing, she told herself. It was just his way.
And she wasn't used to great-hearted, exuberant men who seized her vigorously in their arms.
"So, you be careful," she said, for something to say. "Or I shall make myself difficult."
"I'm not afraid of you. I'll just set Mr. Wyngate on you. My, that would be a battle of the titans. I think I'd back you against him. All right, all right, don't look at me like that. I was only joking."
She pointed a ladle at him. "That kind of joke can land you in complications," she said, with an unconvincing attempt at severity, "and you have enough of those."
"Well at least I can make a joke with you, without worrying that you'll have hysterics."
"Has it occurred to you that you may be imagining the whole thing? He may not want you at all."
"In our previous acquaintance he kept asking me if I knew any aristocrats that I could introduce him to, because Matilda would grace a coronet. Then the minute he discovers my Earldom he descends on me. How does that strike you?"
"Sinister," she agreed.
"Once he's set his heart on something he never gives up. I suppose that's how he became a millionaire. I feel almost afraid that before I know it I'll find myself walking up the aisle with Matilda on my arm."
"Then perhaps you will," said Rena, almost brusquely. "Perhaps it's your destiny to do what will bring prosperity to the village, no matter what the cost to yourself. Now, would you mind going away? I have a lot of work to do before this afternoon."
This conversation was proving a strain on her.
* For the visit Rena changed into her severest clothes, and put a cap on her head that hid some of her shining hair.
John was outraged.
"What did you do that for? You look like a servant."
"A housekeeper is a servant."
"Not you. Take this thing off your head."
"Hey, let go." He was pulling pins out. "Give that back at
once."
"I will not."
"You will." She stamped her foot. "Right now."
He grinned at her, and the sun came out. "For a servant you're very good at giving me orders."
"John, will you try to be sensible?" She had already fallen into the habit of scolding him like a sister. "While we're sharing the house alone, the plainer I look the better. And Mr. Wyngate will notice."
"Well, if he thinks you're my - well, you know - he won't want me to marry his daughter, will he?"
"Nonsense, of course he will. Where's he going to find another coronet? And what about my reputation in the village? Have you thought of that? "I didn't even mean to be sleeping here. I was going to stay respectably in the vicarage before a crowd of strangers turned up, throwing me out, making fun of my mother's clothes and trying to steal my chicken - " her voice wobbled.
"Rena, Rena, I'm sorry." His manner changed at once, becoming the gentle, kindly one that touched her heart. He took hold of her shoulders. "I'm a selfish beast. I forgot how much you've had to put up with. My poor, dear girl, are you crying?"
"No," she said into her handkerchief.
"Well, nobody could blame you. Come here."
He drew her against him and wrapped his arms about her, holding her in a warm, brotherly hug. It was the second time that day he had held her close to him, and it threw her into a state of confusion.
"You've been a tower of strength and I don't know what I would have done without you," he said tenderly. "And all I do is make your life difficult. I ought to be shot for my appalling behaviour, oughtn't I?"
"Yes," she mumbled.
He chuckled. "That's my girl. Never mince matters. Heaven help me if I ever get on your wrong side." He tightened his arms so that she was held hard against a broad, comforting chest. He was taller by several inches, and she had a faint awareness of a soft thunder where his heart was.
Then there was another feeling, almost incredible, on the top of her head, as though he had planted a light kiss on her hair. But he released her straight after, so she might have imagined it.
The Cross of Love Page 5
