‘Ah, that’s better.’ She put back her head and took a deep breath before glancing over her shoulder. ‘Will you not come out and enjoy it with me?’
The evening sky was bruised with deep purple clouds but as he stepped out on to the terrace the sun made one final effort, appearing for one last, glorious blaze and painting the landscape in jewel-bright colours.
Max looked at Ellen. She was staring at the scene spread out before them, her cherry lips parted in delight. A slight breeze ruffled her curls, turning them to molten gold in the sunlight. It also pressed the fine muslin of her gown against her shapely form. As if nature was taunting him with his wife’s beauty.
‘It is quite magnificent, is it not, Max?’
She turned to him, her blue eyes glowing with an inner fire, rivalling the sapphires at her throat. He swung away. She was the only woman he had ever wanted, but he must resist her. He had fought battles, suffered bullet and sword wounds, but none of the scars went as deep as her defection. He would remember that and not give in again. To lose himself in her, to find happiness in her arms, however fleeting, would be a betrayal of all the men who had died because of his recklessness. He sought for a distraction and his eyes fell on the roses clambering over the low terrace wall.
‘The dead flowers need removing. I will have a word with Hobbs in the morning.’
He felt a gentle touch on his sleeve.
‘Do not turn away from me, Max.’
When he did not move she came to stand before him, her eyes glistening with tears. He put a hand to her cheek and she turned her head to press a kiss into his palm. His defences crumbled. His hand slid around her neck and he pulled her close. She turned her face up and he kissed her savagely, hungrily.
With a little moan Ellen put her arms about his neck, returning his kiss with equal fervour, teasing his tongue with her own. Memories flooded in: the taste of her, the feel of her naked body pressed against him, pliant and eager as they moved together, hot skin rolling on cool cotton sheets. The kiss lasted as long as that final blaze of light. Even as the sun disappeared Max raised his head, dragging in a deep, ragged breath.
‘No.’ He held her away from him. ‘You bewitched me once, Ellen, I will not allow you to do so again.’ Her eyes were huge and luminous in the twilight, filled with sadness that twisted like a knife in his gut, but he dare not weaken. ‘Goodnight, madam.’
He turned and walked away, his back straight, spine tingling with the knowledge that she was behind him. Would she run after him, beg him to stay, to make love to her? It took for ever to reach the door and each step tested his willpower to the limit. By heaven, he was only flesh and blood, it would take no more than a word, a touch to shatter his resolve. But there was nothing, only silence, and as he left the room and closed the door behind him he risked one quick look back. Ellen had not moved from the terrace, a still, black figure against the darkening sky.
Chapter Eleven
No rain had fallen overnight, but morning dawned heavy with the threat of a storm. Dark clouds were broken by periods of intense sunshine. Ellen ordered the windows of the house to be opened, but there was only a thick, sullen breeze that moved the air yet did little to freshen the rooms.
Ellen felt the oppression on her spirits as she made her way down to the great hall. The clock was just chiming ten and Max had sent a message to say he would meet her there to present Jamie with his pony. She was wearing her riding habit, although she had no idea if it was still his intention to ride out with her. Not that she blamed him. Last night she had asked him for friendship, but when he had caressed her cheek so tenderly she had been unable to prevent herself from responding like a wanton. A mistake, she knew that, to show how much she still desired him. He had rejected her and she had been rooted to the spot in shame and humiliation while he walked away from her. Well, she had her pride. She would never let him see how much he had hurt her.
As she came down the final flight of steps she heard voices and found Max already in the hall, talking to Jamie while Matty stood to one side, looking on. A band tightened around Ellen’s heart when she saw father and son together. James was holding the toy yacht in his arms and saying if he couldn’t play with the drum perhaps they might go to the lake.
‘Later, if there is time,’ said Max, gently removing the yacht from Jamie and putting it on a side table. ‘Now your mother is here we have something else for you.’ He took the little boy’s hand in his own and straightened, glancing across at Ellen as she approached. ‘If you are ready, ma’am?’
Polite, considerate. Ellen saw the old butler hovering by the door, the smile on his face telling her that he knew what was waiting on the drive and was eager to see the little boy’s reaction. She stretched her mouth into a smile, playing along with the charade that they were a happy family. Perkins threw open the door and they stepped outside on to the balcony. Stevens was waiting at the bottom of the steps, the little pony standing patiently beside him. Jamie’s mouth dropped open. He looked up at Max, who nodded.
‘Yes, he is for you.’
‘If it takes his mind off that toy drum it will be a mercy,’ muttered Matlock.
Max lifted Jamie on to the saddle and Ellen watched, smiling as Stevens adjusted the stirrups to suit.
‘Can I ride him now, Mama, can I ride him, please?’
‘I will take him for his first lesson now, ma’am, and gladly,’ said Stevens, ‘unless, Your Grace, you want me to accompany you?’ He cast an enquiring look at the Duke. ‘Mr Grisham left instructions for Jupiter and Belle to be saddled up for you and the Duchess to ride out this morning.’
‘What? Oh—’ Max frowned and glanced at her, as if realising for the first time that she was dressed for riding. ‘Perhaps Her Grace should remain with the boy for his first lesson.’
Ellen’s heart sank. Max was reluctant to take her with him. She hid her disappointment and was about to concur, but she was outflanked by the servants.
Stevens said quickly, ‘There’s no need for you to stay, ma’am, I’ll take good care of the boy, you may be sure of that.’
And Matlock, in her blunt way, declared that Master James would get on much better without his mama fussing over him. Ellen bit her lip and looked towards Max, who gave the tiniest of shrugs.
‘Shall we go, then, madam?’
They set off for the stables. Thick white clouds were bubbling up in the west, encroaching upon the deep blue of the sky.
‘It could well rain,’ said Max, following her glance. ‘If it does, we will turn back.’
‘We do not need to go at all,’ she countered, chin up to belie her heavy heart.
‘And how would that look? No, we must ride out now, madam.’
Even though it is the last thing you want to do.
Ellen kept her head up and her smile in place. They must at least look as if they were enjoying themselves.
The stable hands were watching out for them and when they walked through the arched entrance, Max’s black hunter and the new grey mare were waiting in the yard. Ellen immediately instructed the groom to take Belle to the mounting block. Max would not wish to throw her into the saddle.
* * *
The mare was fresh and as they trotted away from the stables Ellen was glad to concentrate on controlling her, rather than worrying about the silent and brooding rider at her side. A gallop across the park gave her the opportunity to try the mare’s paces. It also dispelled some of the tension between her and Max: she thanked him for buying her such a spirited creature, he responded with a compliment on her ability to handle the mare. From there they progressed to discussing the other horses in the stables and then the tenants they were to visit that day. Ellen knew harmony was restored, in part.
We are discussing rents and crop rotation and ways of improving the land. As long as we keep to impersonal topics such a
s this we can rub along very well.
It should be enough, she told herself, but she knew it was not.
* * *
They were out for most of the day and by the time they turned for home Max was beginning to understand why Tony Grisham was so full of praise for the new Duchess. Tenants who had been stiff with awe and respect towards him opened up to Ellen, whose relaxed and friendly style soon put them at their ease. She knew just the right thing to say to draw them out about their worries and concerns.
‘I congratulate you,’ he said with grudging respect as he threw her up into the saddle at the last of their visits, a particularly rundown farm at the very edge of his estate. ‘Tony has been trying for months to persuade old Martin to let us repair his roof.’
‘The poor man was clearly afraid that this sudden interest in his home meant you intended to turn him out,’ she explained. ‘Once he was assured you do not mean to replace him, he was much happier.’
‘You also persuaded him to accept Tom Croft’s youngest boy as a farmhand.’
‘You cannot deny that Mr Martin has a wealth of knowledge and experience, and Tom has already told Mr Grisham that his youngest is not interested in following his brother into the family trade as a blacksmith. It seemed a sensible solution.’
‘Very sensible.’ He scrambled up on to his own horse and gathered up the reins. ‘I think you are making yourself indispensable here.’
Ellen threw him an enigmatic look.
‘That is my intention, Your Grace.’
And with that she urged the mare on and galloped away.
* * *
The threatened storm held off, although by the time they returned to the stables the sky was growing ominously dark and the sun was completely obscured by a heavy blanket of cloud. Stevens was waiting for them in the yard, eager to report on Jamie’s first riding lesson.
‘Not a bit afraid,’ he told Ellen, when she had dismounted. ‘Bless him, he didn’t want to go back indoors. But little and often is what I told him, so we’ll put him in the saddle again tomorrow, if that’s all right with you, ma’am?’
Ellen gave her assent and walked back to the house with Max. He made no move to take her arm, but she dared to hope there was a little less restraint between them and she was glad of it.
* * *
Despite the lack of sun, the air was very warm and it was a relief to step into the cool marble hall.
‘I must have a word with Tony,’ said Max, stripping off his gloves. ‘Then it will be good to wash away the dust and dirt. We covered many miles today and made important progress, I think. Thank you for coming with me.’
‘It was my pleasure,’ she told him, noting the soft but definite glow in his eyes. It could only be gratitude, or appreciation, but it warmed her, nevertheless. ‘I shall change as soon as I have seen Jamie.’
Perkins, who was crossing the hall at that moment, stopped and gave a little cough.
‘If you will permit me, ma’am, I saw Eliza taking the young Marquess to the gardens. With his drum,’ he added.
Ellen laughed. ‘Then I shall go and find them. How the day has flown, it is nearly time for dinner. I shall take him upstairs and he can tell me about riding a real pony.’
Eliza was on the terrace, collecting up a number of toys, including the colourful little drum that Max had bought for Jamie.
‘He went upstairs to collect his hobby horse,’ she said, in answer to Ellen’s question. She looked past the Duchess, as if expecting to see the little boy at the open windows.
‘I have just come through the drawing room and did not see him there,’ said Ellen. ‘I expect he has been distracted and is playing in the nursery. I shall go up.’
But when she reached the nursery Matlock shook her head.
‘He hasn’t been here, ma’am. I haven’t seen him since Eliza took him out to play. I will check the other rooms, though, just in case he has gone exploring. But he so loves being out of doors I cannot think he will be up here.’
‘No, I believe you are right.’ Ellen thought of the house with all its doors and windows thrown wide and she felt a tiny prickle of anxiety. ‘I will go downstairs and look for him.’
The deepening gloom within the house reflected her worries, and a low rumble of thunder added to her sense of unease. Max was on the half-landing, talking to his valet, and she did not hesitate to interrupt them.
‘Your Grace, have you seen Jamie?’
‘No,’ said Max. ‘Have you seen him, Flynn?’
‘No, Your Grace, but I heard him earlier. Playing his drum on the west lawn.’
Ellen nodded and continued down the stairs. Jamie loved to be out of doors and that is where she would find him. She knew it.
‘Shall I prepare your bath, Your Grace?’ she heard Flynn’s question, echoing off the stone walls.
‘Yes, yes, I shall be up directly.’ Before she reached the hall Max was beside her. ‘What is it, what has happened?’
Having someone to share her concerns was new for Ellen. For a moment she lost some of her self-assurance.
‘Jamie is missing. No, no, it cannot be anything serious.’ She turned as the nursemaid appeared, on her way to the nursery with her arms full of toys. ‘He did not come back out to you, Eliza?’
‘No, ma’am. Is he not with Mrs Matlock?’
Ellen shook her head, flinching as a clap of thunder rumbled around the house like a portent of doom.
‘When did you last see him?’ Max asked the nursemaid.
‘Well, it’s hard to say, Your Grace. It couldn’t have been that long since he went indoors, no more than an hour.’
‘An hour!’ Ellen gripped her hands together to stop them shaking. ‘He could be anywhere by now.’
‘Go upstairs and look for him, Eliza,’ said Max. ‘Not just the nursery wing, but the whole of the top floor, do you understand?’ As the maid hurried away he uttered a few brief instructions to the hovering footman, then touched Ellen’s arm. ‘Come, they will check the grounds and the stables while we look around here.’
Ellen followed Max from room to room. The thunder was growing louder and more frequent. Jamie did not like thunder. He would not stay out in a storm. He wouldn’t. She hugged the thought to her as they checked the study, the library and the anteroom where they found Tony sorting through numerous boxes of paper. He abandoned his task immediately to go and search the offices and basement rooms.
In the morning room they found the Dowager dozing on a daybed, an open book on her lap and a dish of marzipan at her side. Max spoke quickly.
‘Dorcas, have you seen Jamie?’
The Dowager sat up, straightening her cap and tutting.
‘I have seen no one, I have been resting,’ she told them peevishly. ‘My room was so hot last night I hardly had a wink of sleep. I do not know how you have the energy to go riding all over the place when the weather is so close—’
‘Never mind that,’ Max interrupted her. ‘We are looking for Jamie.’
She hunched one shoulder. ‘How should I know where he is? He was outside my window, earlier, with that infernal drum.’
‘When was that?’ asked Ellen, resisting the temptation to shake her sister-in-law.
‘Oh, I do not know, I was not watching the time. I had come in here to lie down after my nuncheon and he began marching back and forth, banging on his drum so loudly it brought on my headache. I told him to go away and play quietly.’
‘That will have been when he first came downstairs,’ said Max, as they returned to the hall. ‘Do not worry, I have every hope of finding him soon. Perhaps he went back to the stables.’ He gave a hiss of exasperation. ‘Ellen, I am very sorry if my giving him the pony has brought this about.’
‘No, no you cannot be blamed for—’ She stopped, her eyes fixed
on the side table. ‘The yacht. We left it there when we went out this morning.’
Max barked a question to the butler, who shook his head.
‘No, Your Grace. I gave no instructions for it to be moved.’
Ellen was already running. She raced through the drawing room and out on to the terrace, the straightest line to the lake. Max was beside her. As they descended the steps the first fat drops of rain fell and by the time they had reached the lawns leading to the lake the rain was pouring down and they were both drenched to the skin.
‘He would not be out in this,’ muttered Max as they reached the water’s edge and stopped, looking left and right.
Ellen did not give voice to her fears, but began to walk along the bank. She stopped, pointing.
‘What’s that?’
The white sails of the little boat were visible amongst the reeds. It was a good six feet from the bank, the leading string floating like a thin snake on the water, just out of reach.
‘What if he t-tried...?’
Panic took over. She began to run frantically back and forth along the bank, calling out, peering at the reeds and only stopping when Max gripped her shoulders.
‘Ellen, he is not in the water. There is no sign of him here and no current to carry him away. He is not here. Trust me.’
The self-control she had exercised so effectively for weeks gave way to unreasoning dread. He was gone, her child. Her baby. Her only reason for living, since Max no longer loved her.
‘I must keep looking, I must!’ She began to shake uncontrollably. Max’s grip tightened and she threw up her head, her eyes beseeching him. ‘He is all I have, Max!’
‘We will find him, I promise you.’
His calm certainty steadied her. She drew in another shuddering breath, drawing strength from his presence. She swiped a hand across her cheek and dashed away a mixture of rain and tears. She must think where next to look.
A shout. Tony Grisham was running towards them, waving frantically.
‘Safe.’ That was the first word she heard. ‘He’s safe, Your Grace.’ Tony came to a stand before them, chest heaving, but grinning even as the rain plastered his hair to his head. ‘He came in by way of the kitchens and the scullery maid took him straight up to the nursery.’ He saw Ellen look back towards the lake. ‘He was here, ma’am, but he says he let go of the string at the first thunderclap. He was coming in to get help to recover the yacht when apparently he saw a hen was loose, so he chased it back to the kitchen gardens. Then the next clap of thunder sent him scurrying into the kitchens. That’s why we couldn’t see him. He’s so small he was screened from us by the hedges.’
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