‘I don’t know what I’d have done if you hadn’t proposed to me. I remember sitting opposite you on that cut-down chair—yes, I did know it was cut down—and wondering what the devil this very surprising and very determined chit of a girl was going to suggest. But even if you’d give me a hundred guesses I wouldn’t have come up with the answer.’
‘Were you truly so shocked? You covered it up extremely well!’
‘I was astounded, not shocked, but within five minutes I realised that it was an inspired idea, and what I remember more than anything was feeling profound relief. And gratitude.’
‘You played your part very well. Papa never guessed that it was my idea, you know.’
‘Oh, one thing I can do is play whatever part is asked of me. I’m glad, though, that it ensured he could be comfortable in his last year.’
‘He took a lot of persuading to move out of our cottage and into the manor. I couldn’t understand it at first. I thought he was concerned about what people would say—you know, the estate manager moving into his former employer’s home and getting ideas above his station. But it wasn’t that at all. He simply didn’t want to leave the cottage where he and Mama had been so happy and contented. I barely remember her, and Papa rarely talked about her, but it was clear he loved her very much. So in the end I moved the entire contents of the cottage here and Papa was able to enjoy his last year on this earth. Sorry.’ Kate blinked. ‘Tears at breakfast. I promise you that won’t be a regular occurrence.’
‘He died ten years ago,’ Daniel said, frowning. ‘I’d have thought after all this time... But I know you were close.’
‘We were—of course we were. And in a way, the estate is his legacy, so I’m reminded every day—’ Kate broke off, mortified. ‘Sorry, that was thoughtless of me.’
‘In what way?’
‘Well, Elmswood Manor must be full of memories for you too. I know it’s been more than eleven years since Lord Elmswood died, but you’ve been abroad for all that time, and being here now—well, as I said, it must reawaken long forgotten memories.’
She waited, but Daniel said nothing, staring off over her shoulder out of the window.
‘Why do you hate this place?’ she asked.
‘That’s at least the second time you’ve asked me that.’
Silly of her to imagine he would answer a direct question, but his irritation made her even more determined to find out.
‘How tedious of me,’ Kate said. ‘I do beg your pardon.’
Daniel got to his feet. ‘It’s a lovely day. I think I’ll get some fresh air.’
‘Would you like me to come with you? We could take a walk around the grounds.’
‘Don’t you have better things to do?’
‘I have a hundred other things I could do, though nothing I’d rather do, if you would care for my company. Though if you wouldn’t, then please just say so. I think it’s better for both of us that we be frank with each other, don’t you?’
His brow lightened and he smiled faintly. ‘Then I’ll confess that I’m like a bear with a sore head in the morning until I have had my coffee.’
‘On top of which, you really did have a sore head this morning, and I added tears and recriminations into the mix. Would you prefer to be alone? I really don’t mind.’
He held out his hand, helping her to her feet when she took it. ‘I would very much like my wife’s company, if I’m not keeping her from more pressing concerns.’
‘You are, actually,’ Kate said, smiling up at him, ‘but, strangely, I find the prospect of spending the morning in your company a far more beguiling prospect than going through the accounts and paying bills.’
‘What about your precious garden? Won’t your horticultural Adonis be keen to show off the results of all his hard work?’
Kate chuckled. ‘Estelle used to whistle and say “Good golly, it’s Ollie!” whenever he appeared. It became one of our silly family jokes. He is ridiculously handsome though, isn’t he?’
‘Have you an ambition to play his Aphrodite?’
‘Wasn’t she the goddess of love?’
‘Love and desire—the female equivalent of Adonis. The story goes that she fell in love with him, and then for reasons known only to herself handed him over to another goddess, Persephone, who was to act as his protectress. When Persephone refused to give Adonis back the two agreed to share him, though Aphrodite claimed two-thirds of the prize specimen’s time, leaving the unlucky Persephone with only a third. Poor Adonis died when he was attacked by a wild boar which had been sent by another god, who was either envious of his hunting skills or jealous of Aphrodite’s passion for him.’
‘Good grief! I had no idea that mythology was so salacious.’
‘Oh, that’s tame for the Greeks.’
‘I’m afraid I’m woefully ignorant when it comes to the Classics. It’s not a subject taught at the village school.’
‘It was ranked second only to sport in terms of importance at the school I attended.’
‘I’ll wager you favoured sport rather than Latin and Greek?’
‘You’re quite wrong. In fact there was a time—’ He broke off, shaking his head ruefully. ‘I don’t know how we came to be discussing the Classics.’
‘The notion of Oliver being Adonis to my Aphrodite.’
Daniel’s expression cleared. ‘And is he?’
‘I thought I’d made it perfectly clear yesterday where my preferences lie.’
He smiled at that, just exactly as he’d done yesterday. ‘As did I, I believe.’
It was a wicked little smile, and it was having exactly the same effect on her as yesterday. She felt quite unlike herself, reckless and bold.
‘You kissed my hand,’ Kate said, affecting a dismissive tone. ‘I don’t consider that definitive proof one way or the other.’
‘Are you throwing down the gauntlet? Because I should warn you I never refuse a challenge.’
Her heart began to beat very fast. ‘I don’t want you to.’
He put his arm around her waist, pulling her tight against him. ‘Be careful what you wish for, Kate,’ he said, and then his lips met hers.
Be careful what you wish for, indeed.
She closed her eyes and tried to purse her lips against his.
He laughed.
Her eyes flew open.
Mortified, she tried to escape his hold, but he tightened his arm around her.
‘I’m sorry—but how was I to know you’d never been kissed before?’
‘Perhaps because I’m your wife and you know perfectly well that you’ve never kissed me.’
His smile faded. ‘Good grief, do you really mean that you have never...?’
‘Never.’
‘Kate, I am very far from being any sort of rake, but I must warn you that I have—’
‘Daniel, I’m not in the least bit interested in what you have or haven’t done in the past.’
‘Nor am I.’
He smiled again, sliding one hand up her back, his fingers feathering the skin at her nape.
‘Did you know that your mouth is the perfect shape for kissing?’
‘Is it?’
‘A cupid’s bow, curling up at the corners so that you look as if you’re smiling even when you’re not. Here.’ He bent his head, pressing a kiss to one corner. ‘And here.’ Another kiss. ‘And then there’s this tempting little dent in your top lip.’ Another kiss.
His fingers slid into her hair, angling her head towards him, and he covered her mouth with his. His lips were soft on hers. She stayed motionless until his tongue gently urged her mouth open, and then her senses jolted to life.
He kissed her slowly, his mouth moving carefully over hers, and she could have swooned with delight. Closing her eyes, she put a hand on his shoulder and stepped into a whole new world o
f sensation, following his lead, shaping her mouth to his, and kissing him. Slow, soft kisses, that heated her blood, that made her feel as if she were melting.
Her heart was hammering as their mouths moved and their tongues touched, and if it hadn’t been for his hand around her waist and her hand on his shoulder she was pretty sure her knees would have given way.
And then the kisses stopped, and he lifted his head, and she opened her eyes, dazed, and touched his cheek, as if to reassure herself that he was real, and he smiled at her, and she smiled back, and he let her go.
‘Well,’ Kate said, ‘now I know.’
‘Was it worth the wait?’
She laughed, feeling skittish and girlish and quite unlike herself. ‘I haven’t decided yet. Perhaps one more?’
* * *
Daniel gave up pretending to eat the plate of cold meat and pushed it aside.
‘Aren’t you hungry? Are you feeling feverish? The sun is hot and we walked for more than two hours in the gardens—and you had only those strange clothes on, with those odd shoes and no hat, so perhaps...’ Kate trailed off, grimacing. ‘Sorry.’
He was tired, and he was unsettled, but he wasn’t about to admit to either. ‘The fact is that I am not particularly fond of ham.’
‘Why didn’t you say? I could get you...’
‘Kate, sit down. I don’t want anything more, and if I did want anything I am perfectly capable of asking for it myself. As to my unconventional attire—those clothes were designed to cope with the heat and humidity of India, but if you don’t like them...’
‘You’ve been to India!’
It had been a silly slip, but too late to deny, and what the devil? It was hardly treasonous. ‘A country which taught me a good deal,’ Daniel said, ‘including how to dress sartorially.’
‘Do you speak the language?’ Kate asked, agog. ‘What is the language?’
‘There are a great many dialects. I learned enough for my purposes.’
‘I don’t suppose there’s any point in my asking what those purposes were?’
‘I’m sorry, but you know the answer to that.’
‘What other languages do you speak?’
‘English is the only one that need concern you. I’m sorry,’ Daniel added when she scowled, ‘but I did warn you that asking questions was pointless.’
‘Including any question about what you like to eat? If you would at least answer that question I can inform Mrs Chester, and then she won’t be offended by your sending back a full plate.’
‘I ate every bit of that vegetable concoction, whatever it was.’ Daniel tilted his side dish towards her ‘See—empty plate, Nurse.’
She bit her lip, but he could see the laughter in her eyes.
‘It was garden peas, runner beans and lettuce, cooked in chicken stock with mint,’ she said.
‘Let me guess. Another one of Phoebe’s recipes?’
‘If I said it was, would you refuse to eat it?’ Kate snapped. ‘It would be easier if you could tell me what kind of things you like to eat, Daniel. It doesn’t commit you to anything more profound than eating dinner.’
Her insight took him aback. All morning as he’d wandered around Kate’s precious gardens, content to be in her company and be able to smile, asking enough pertinent questions to mask his indifference to it all, he’d felt the weight of the sentence Sir Marcus had imposed weighing on him.
Three months, with no guarantee of release at the end of it. What was he to do here for three months? And how the devil was he to avoid becoming part of the furniture? How his father would have loved that! He was determined to do all he could to avoid it, but Kate was right. He had to eat.
‘Fish,’ he said. ‘lots of vegetables and pulses. I like chicken, pigeon and rabbit. I don’t like beef or pork or ham, and I loathe the English way of loading a plate with slabs of roast meat or wedges of the stuff. Peasant food, I suppose is what I really like. Does that help?’
Kate smiled warmly. ‘Thank you. Now, that wasn’t too difficult, was it.’
He got to his feet, holding out his hand. ‘Fair point. Perhaps we should discuss how we’re going to get through this interlude in both our lives. I think I saw a bench on the terrace facing the south lawn—shall we sit there?’
‘It’s very hot today.’
Daniel laughed. ‘You’ve obviously never been to Arabia.’
‘Meaning you have, I presume? Or is that yet another question you’re not permitted to answer?’
‘Oh, what the devil? I’m not supposed to say anything at all, but provided you swear never to tell Sir Marcus then I will admit that I have been to Arabia, and that I speak reasonable Arabic, as well as a smattering of French, German, Italian, Spanish and Greek.’
‘Good heavens, that is impressive.’
‘Not really. I have an ear for language, that’s all.’
It was on the tip of her tongue to make a comparison with Estelle, and her ear for music, but he would only brush it aside as irrelevant or a coincidence.
‘It’s impressive all the same,’ she said, making for the bench.
‘No, don’t sit down yet. Let me move it so that you’re in the shade.’
‘Daniel, be careful.’
‘It’s a wooden bench, Kate, not a marble plinth.’ He moved it, pleased to find that it was not as heavy as it looked, and sat down beside her.
‘Did you live in the desert when you were in Arabia?’ she asked. ‘Did you ride a camel and sleep in a tent?’
‘Yes, to all three. And I can tell you that the tent was made of goatskins.’
Kate sighed. ‘I wish you could tell me more. I am imagining you with white robes and a headdress...’
‘Don’t forget my harem.’
Her eyes widened. ‘Do they really have such things?’
‘A harem is simply the women’s quarters in a household, occupied by a wife, her daughters, servants, cousins—her mother sometimes.’
‘Like Elmswood, then, when the girls were here.’
‘A little more restricted,’ Daniel said dryly. ‘You’d have had to give your gardener instructions through a metal grille, and he certainly wouldn’t have been able to roam about half-naked if any of you were in the garden.’
‘Oliver was digging, and he put his shirt back on the moment he realised he wasn’t alone. Are the women there really so restricted?’
‘It varies from kingdom to kingdom.’
Lord Armstrong’s eldest daughter had made enormous changes in Q’adiz, he remembered. Celia, that was her name. A formidable woman. Though, like Kate, she hid her strength behind a pretty façade, there was steel in those eyes of hers. She wasn’t much older than Kate either.
For a moment he was tempted to tell his wife about his encounter with her—such a contrast to her father, who was a slippery customer if ever there was one. But he’d already broken the rules.
‘We didn’t come out here to talk about Arabia.’
Kate sighed. ‘No, but I wish we could. You have led such a fascinating life, and I would love to hear about some of the places you’ve been.’
‘I was working, not taking in the sights.’
‘Yes, but you must have seen so many wonderful things, even when you were working.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘Whatever you mean by “working”, which I can’t imagine...’
‘No, you can’t.’
She was silent for a moment, staring down at her hand. ‘I’m not sure how I’ll cope when you go back, now I know how dangerous it can be. What if you’re captured again?’
‘I won’t be. Once bitten twice shy.’
His ankles still throbbed where the manacles had been. And the heat had been overpowering. But it was the smell that had been the worst of it. And the vermin. And the dark. Yes, the dark had been the worst. Those long days and nights he’d lost
count of, that rush of terror, panic, as he despaired of ever being free. Clawing at the walls. Hammering on the cell door. The humiliation he’d felt when they’d let him out and he’d realised it had been a game for them.
He hadn’t let them win, but he didn’t think he’d be able to go through it again.
‘Daniel? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring it all back.’
He was crushing Kate’s hand between his. He uncurled his fingers, releasing her. It was over. One more life lived and done with. The man in the cell hadn’t been him. What he had to do was concentrate on this version of himself.
‘There’s one thing I can usefully do while I’m here. My will,’ he clarified, when Kate looked at him blankly. ‘Shall I make Elmswood over to you?’
‘You can’t do that!’
‘Why not? It couldn’t be in more capable and caring hands.’
‘That’s not the point. The estate should go with the title.’
‘I have no idea who will inherit that, and I don’t give a damn, but I do care about the possibility of you being unceremoniously turfed out by him. This is your home, you’ve looked after it for the last eleven years, you deserve to keep it.’
‘It’s your home too.’
‘No! Never!’
He hadn’t meant to shout. Kate was staring at him, shocked. He’d shocked himself with the strength of his feelings. He didn’t give a damn about Elmswood, so why get upset about it?
Three months at the most he had to sit it out here—it didn’t mean he was filling his father’s shoes, and he wasn’t even here at his father’s behest. What he had to do was see this as just one more assignment, one more role. Not Lord of the Manor—that part was being played by Kate, who had not a drop of Fairfax blood in her, and was moreover a woman. And that, he thought, tickled by the notion, would have made his father furious.
His wife was eyeing him as if he were a pot about to boil over. ‘Please excuse my temper. I think perhaps I have overdone it a little after all,’ he said.
‘It’s my fault. I was so caught up in seeing all the changes in the gardens I forgot that you’ve only just risen from your sickbed. And you indulged me,’ she added wryly. ‘Don’t think I didn’t notice how tedious you found it.’
The Inconvenient Elmswood Marriage (Penniless Brides 0f Convenience Book 4) Page 7
