Thornbrook Park (A Thornbrook Park Romance)

by Sherri Browning

  “You can’t really think that! Oh, sweetheart.” Eve hugged Sophia to her, both of them crying. “It wasn’t your fault. I’m so sorry.”

  “These things happen.” Sophia wiped her tears with her hands. “That’s what my mother-in-law said by way of condolence. These things happen. They certainly didn’t happen to her, she with her two strapping, beautiful sons. A month later, she left for Italy, and good riddance. I think Gabriel blames me for driving her away.”

  “I doubt he blames you for anything. He lost a child, too.”

  Sophia sighed. “I know. I still see him looking out in the direction of the grave. Edward is buried in the family plot across the field, next to Gabriel’s father.”

  “Also named Edward.” Eve nodded. Dear God. Her poor friends. All this time, she’d had no idea. “When did it happen?”

  “Four years ago. He would have been four this past spring.”

  “We weren’t writing much then.” It began to make sense that Sophia hadn’t shared her happy news when she’d found herself in the family way. “I was getting settled in India, and you were enjoying Yorkshire as a young bride.”

  “I won’t go through it again, Eve. Never again.”

  “And so you think Alice and Marcus might produce an heir, most like you and Gabriel.”

  “An heir to grow up here at Thornbrook Park and love it as much as Gabriel. Don’t you see? They have to get married, Eve. It has to be them. They’re our best hope.”

  Eve didn’t know what to say. She understood Sophia’s need to pair Alice and Marcus together more than she cared to admit. It made sense, as odd as it seemed and as much as she hated that it did. “We’ll see what happens. I’ll do what I can to help.”

  “Thank you, Eve.” She squeezed Eve’s hands in her own. “I’m so glad you’ve come. I knew I could count on you.”

  Guilt heavy as a cannonball settled in the pit of Eve’s stomach. Guilt and sadness. Sophia trusted her. She could never be with Marcus again.

  They resumed their walk and reached the edge of the green, soft grass, giving way to cobbled street that made her glad she’d changed to sturdy boots instead of staying in her thin slippers.

  “Here we are.” With a new burst of cheer, probably forced, Sophia turned toward the Dower House. “Let’s see if we can convince Alice to come along home with us so she can be there when the men return.”

  The maid, Mary, greeted them with the news that Alice and Agatha had a guest. Eve’s heart lurched when she saw that it was Marcus.

  “I thought you were out with the earl.” Sophia seemed as surprised as Eve was to see him.

  “My brother and I had a look around the farm together.” He’d been perched at the edge of a chair near Alice, no doubt hanging on her every word, but he rose to greet them. “Gabriel was distracted by some potentially good birding on the way back.”

  “That man.” Sophia threw her hands up in vexation. “Can he do anything without having to stop and catch or kill something?”

  Eve met Marcus’s gaze. He raised a brow.

  “He is fond of chasing wild game. I’m sure he’ll be home before long.” He addressed Sophia, but his amber gaze remained on Eve. She felt the danger of being close to him even now, in a room full of people, people who couldn’t know they’d shared any more intimate connection than passing acquaintance would allow.

  “Join us,” Alice encouraged. “We were discussing the merits of London being chosen to host the next Olympic Games.”

  “London? I thought the Games were being held in Rome. I’m certain the Dowager Countess wrote me about it.” Sophia sat herself down to tea and took a seat on the sofa next to Agatha.

  “That was before Vesuvius erupted,” Marcus informed her. “With the ongoing effort to restore Naples, the games have been looking for a new home.”

  “And since London was under consideration in the first place, I think it’s a natural choice.” Alice nodded at the point on which she and Marcus apparently agreed.

  “But London? Think of the expense. And it’s crowded enough already. No. I hope they choose some other place.” Sophia sipped her tea.

  “You’ve never been interested in athletics. I think it a fine idea. They’ll have to build a stadium, of course. Let the crowds come! It’s all revenue for the crown.”

  “The way our good king reportedly spends, he needs all the help he can get,” Marcus agreed with Alice.

  “I would like to learn to play tennis,” Alice declared. “Is that an Olympic sport?”

  “It is.” Marcus nodded.

  “You like the idea of running on a lawn dressed all in white,” Sophia called her out. “When we were children, nothing guaranteed you returning home covered in mud more than dressing you in clean, white clothes.”

  “I happened to be the best baker of mud pies in all of Delaney Square.” Alice laughed.

  “I can teach you to play tennis,” Marcus offered. Sophia cast a delighted glance at Eve. “The back lawn is perfect for it. We only have to set up the net.”

  “Perhaps I could help as well.” Eve couldn’t stop herself from joining an activity that offered the perfect chance for Alice and Marcus to get close. What was wrong with her? “I know how to play. Though, of course, three’s a crowd.”

  “I’m sure it wouldn’t hurt to add a second instructor. And what do you think of London hosting the Olympic Games, Mrs. Kendal?” Marcus’s eyes lit with a mischievous glow.

  “I haven’t given it a thought. Perhaps Aunt Agatha could tell us if hosting the Games will lead to triumph or tragedy.”

  Agatha rubbed her temples. “I’m not seeing it clearly at this time, but then the scent of roses always seems to interfere with my visions.”

  “The scent of roses? Yes.” Eve followed Sophia’s gaze to the grand bouquet on a nearby table, pink roses and yellow alstroemeria. “Did the gardener bring them in for you? He hasn’t cut any of the like for Thornbrook Park’s arrangements. We seem to be getting all heather and chrysanthemums lately.”

  “Captain Thorne brought me the flowers.” Alice flashed Marcus an appreciative smile, and Eve thought she detected a hint of triumph in her tone.

  “What a surprise, Marcus. How considerate of you.” Sophia beamed. “Pink roses mean admiration. Alice, I believe Captain Thorne might be trying to tell you something.”

  “Sophia,” Alice chided. “It was simply a gallant gesture.”

  “There aren’t roses enough to express my admiration for the lot of you. I’m a lucky man to be surrounded by such beauty and grace. My brother’s a fool for not coming to tea with me. His loss.”

  Sophia nodded all too eagerly.

  “Men generally don’t pay attention to such things, but I believe I heard somewhere that sunflowers represent adoration.” Marcus looked at Eve with the heavy-lidded gaze that made her heart beat faster. “We saw a whole field of them on our drive yesterday.”

  “Before the rain.” Eve feared that they were giving themselves away, but she couldn’t avert her gaze from his.

  “I believe it’s a Victorian notion to analyze flowers for meaning.” Sophia dusted her hands as if done with the topic now that it had veered off a course that suited her. “We must embrace our new times. Perhaps there’s no meaning other than to celebrate beauty.”

  “It is a glorious arrangement. Miss Puss likes them very much. In fact, she’s trying to take a bite out them but her mouth keeps passing right through the petals. Poor dear.” Agatha laughed at the sight apparent only to her, but they all squinted as if trying to catch Miss Puss in action.

  “Naughty dear. Stay away from my flowers, Miss Puss.” Alice shooed the air around the vase.

  “Can I get you some more tea, Captain?” Alice asked.

  Things seemed to be progressing well for Alice and Marcus. Alice seemed surprisingly receptive to the attention, and Marcu
s had seemed happily engaged in conversation when they’d arrived. As it should be. Eve suddenly felt like an intruder. She had to go. Immediately. “If you’ll all excuse me, I’m going to continue with my walk. I’ve been meaning to have a look at the shops in town.”

  “Oh, now, no need for us to rush off.” Sophia probably thought her presence was needed to sow the seeds of romance. “Let’s visit a little longer. One more cup.”

  “You stay. I need a new hat. We can meet up in town. Thank you for tea, Lady Alice.” She hurried off before anyone could stop her. She walked in quick steps until she passed the hedges that lined the street along the edge of the property. Leaning against the front gate, she took a minute to catch her breath before continuing on.

  ***

  Marcus had felt vaguely unsettled since Eve had run off. Was it something he said? Or perhaps it was as awkward for her to watch him try to flirt with Alice as it was for him to court another woman with Eve in the room. He stifled the urge to go after her. She can buy her own hats. He smiled at the recollection from their conversation in the rain.

  “How is Mrs. Dennehy?” Sophia asked, calling him back to the present. “Did you and Gabriel find her well?”

  “Very well.” Too well, perhaps, for an older woman on her own. “She had no complaints, though the farm could use some attention—a few coats of paint for the house, stain for the barn, and some repairs. She’s happy to put Brandon to work in exchange for room and board and a salary, a meager one but more than sufficient for a young man in his position. I’ll be bringing him there tomorrow and then dropping in from time to time to check on him, of course, at least until he’s settled.” The one person he had wanted to tell of his success had run off before he’d had a chance.

  “That would be one less burden for Gabriel. I hope he appreciates your enthusiasm. Alice, have you seen the farm? I know you would adore the lambs, such darlings.” Sophia not so subtly dropped the hint that he could bring Alice along.

  “The lambs are all grown, but they add to the bucolic setting. Perhaps you would take a ride out with me and have a look, Alice.” Marcus offered the invitation.

  “If we can go on horseback. I haven’t ridden in the longest time.”

  “You enjoy riding?” He sipped his tea for something to do with his hands. Eve’s leaving had made him want to run right after her, but he couldn’t be obvious about it.

  “I do.”

  “She’s quite the horsewoman.” Sophia was all too eager to list her sister’s accomplishments.

  “Thornbrook Park has fine stables and plenty of land for riding. I can show you some of the paths I enjoyed growing up. I’ve spent enough time in the saddle today, I’m afraid. In fact, I should be getting back to prepare Brandon for his new adventures and perhaps fit in a rest before dinner.” He rose. “Thank you for the tea.”

  “Thank you again for the flowers.” Alice got up to see him out.

  In hope of catching up to Eve, he set off toward Mrs. Carrigan’s shop, the very place to buy a hat.

  “Good day, Mrs. Carrigan.” He entered, looked around, and was discouraged to find no sign of Eve. “I’m looking for a woman.”

  “I’m sorry, Captain Thorne,” Mrs. Carrigan said with a slight smile. “You might have come to the wrong place. The tavern is still on the other side of town. But it’s good to see you home again.”

  “Thank you, but I think she was headed here. She’s about so tall.” He held his hand up to the middle of his chest. “Blond, with the most radiant blue eyes.”

  “Mrs. Kendal.” She nodded. “I just sold her a hat, nearly gave it away. She drove a hard bargain, but she’s already gone off with her prize.”

  Relief gave way to panic once again. “Did she say where she intended to go next?”

  “Perhaps back to Thornbrook Park. I wouldn’t know.”

  In his haste to leave, he nearly knocked over a stand bearing a hat decorated with six taxidermied parakeets around the rim. He shuddered and hoped Eve hadn’t chosen the likes of it. Back in the street, he looked right and left, desperate for any sign of her. Once he rounded the corner, he caught sight of her in the distance, in her dark coat and what was probably the new broad-brimmed hat. She walking briskly, dangling a hatbox from her arm.

  “Eve!” He called out, but she was too far off to hear. He picked up his pace.

  He was about to call out to her again when he saw a man emerge from the hedgerow along the walkway behind her. The man in the black bowler hat stepped out and fell into pace with Eve, closing the distance between them, his hand raised. Was that a glint of metal? A knife?

  “Eve!” He hollered for her, his blood running cold through his veins. “Eve!”

  He ran as fast as he could, but he feared he wouldn’t make it in time. By some miracle, he managed to gain ground and reach out for the man just in time, before he made it to his prey.

  Something, perhaps the knife, flew from the man’s outstretched hand and into the bushes as Marcus took him by surprise and jerked him around.

  “I’ve got you now, bloody bastard.” He landed a left jab, followed by a right hook, before they tumbled together, Marcus landing atop him and pinning the man to the ground. “What do you want with Mrs. Kendal?”

  Seventeen

  Her spirits restored by an invigorating bout of haggling with the shopkeeper, Eve wore her new hat with some degree of pride that she’d obtained it for such a small price. Prama, her maid in India, had coached her on making deals in the marketplace, and she had learned her lessons well. On her way back to the Dower House, she debated if she should boast to Sophia about her bargain or simply let her friends admire her purchase. She was nearly there when a commotion started behind her and she turned to see Marcus wrestling a man to the ground.

  “Captain Thorne?” The sight of them fighting astounded her, but her gaze was instantly drawn to the black bowler hat on the ground at their feet. A chill washed over her.

  “Let me up!” The man continued to twist in Marcus’s grip, but Marcus was obviously the stronger of the two.

  “Not a chance.” Marcus grunted with the effort of keeping him pinned. “Not until we’re at the constable’s office.”

  She walked over to them. “Let the man up to explain himself, Captain.”

  “Let him up? He was following you. I think he intended you harm. He held a knife. The constable, at once!” Marcus ordered one of the handful of lads who had gathered, drawn from their work by the fuss. “Run and get him.”

  Eve stepped around and leaned down to examine the man’s face. “Why would you intend me harm?”

  “I don’t. He lies.” The man could barely get the words out.

  She stopped to retrieve the man’s hat for him and steeled her spine. Her instinct told her that Marcus knew what he was doing. “I believe you’ve knocked the wind right out of him. I don’t see any knife, though. Just this watch.” She picked up a shiny, round, silver watch on a chain. “It glints in the light, perhaps like a knife?”

  “He had a knife,” Marcus insisted. “Look around. In the bushes.”

  Eve took a moment to rifle through the foliage but found nothing. “I don’t see a knife.”

  She returned to look at her supposed aggressor. The man was much stouter than Marcus, but short and apparently not very fit. He had the kind of hair that was probably once carrot orange but had paled with a liberal dose of gray running through it, what little he had left of it. He reminded Eve of her landlord in India. She’d only met him once or twice, though, so it was hard to be certain until he moved just the right way. “But you are my landlord from India. Mr. Lawson, what are you doing here?”

  The lad came back with the constable trailing after him.

  “Let me up,” Lawson said. “I’m not going to run. I wasn’t going to hurt anyone, I swear.”

  “Let him up,” the constable said.


  Reluctantly, Marcus let go and stood up, adjusting his coat and cuffs as the constable helped Mr. Lawson to his feet.

  “Now then.” The constable turned to Eve. “What’s the complaint, and who is our damsel in distress?”

  Eve blushed, feeling all eyes in the crowd suddenly on her. “I’m Mrs. Eve Kendal, visiting at Thornbrook Park, but I don’t believe I’m in any distress.” Not from Mr. Lawson, surely. But how odd that he should be walking behind her unannounced and wearing a black bowler hat. Coincidence? She thought not.

  “He had a knife, and he followed Mrs. Kendal in deliberate pursuit. I saw it all from up the way.” Marcus gestured toward the row of shops in the distance.

  “And you rushed over to play hero?” the constable asked in an accusatory tone, as if suggesting that Marcus went looking for the chance to stage a rescue.

  Growing redder in the face, Marcus looked as if he might explode. Eve touched his arm lightly. His every muscle tensed.

  “I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding. Mr. Lawson was my landlord in India. We, my husband and I, rented his house.”

  “A misunderstanding, yes.” Lawson straightened his waistcoat. “I came to town looking for Mrs. Kendal. I only want to settle a debt.”

  “A debt? With a knife?” Marcus lunged at him again, only to be blocked by the constable stepping between them.

  “Your husband has quite a temper, perhaps?” the constable suggested.

  “He’s not my husband,” Eve clarified. “This is Captain Marcus Thorne. The war hero.”

  Marcus groaned. She’d learned that he didn’t consider himself one, but he’d fought in a war and saved countless lives. Like it or not, a hero he was.

  The constable looked suddenly sheepish. “Captain Thorne, didn’t recognize you. Very sorry, sir.”

  “Jack Smith?” Marcus tilted his head and looked at the constable. “I didn’t recognize you either, to be honest. It has been a few years, yes? This man needs to be held and questioned. I will come to the station with you. Mrs. Kendal, please go to the Dower House, where you can call Dale to come round with the car. I have the situation in hand.”