She could well believe that Alexander and Eloise were able to interpret the many and varied gurgles their child made. She was equally sure that to Tilda’s parents the imminent arrival of a first tooth or a first attempt to sit up was of major import. But, frankly, she could think of at least a thousand more interesting things to discuss. Such as that look Eloise had just given her husband, though that would have to wait until they were alone.
‘But that is more than enough about Tilda,’ Eloise said, with a rueful glance at Kate, which reminded her that her niece was as observant as ever. ‘We’ve not even asked Uncle Daniel how his recuperation is progressing, though that is partly because it is obvious you are in excellent health, sir. No one looking at you would imagine that you had been so seriously ill.’
‘Yes, I’m fine now,’ Daniel said. ‘Thanks to Kate.’
‘It must have been quite an adventure for you,’ Eloise said, turning to Kate. ‘You hate to leave Elmswood, even to visit me.’
‘I enjoyed it. Actually, it’s made me think about...’ Kate hesitated, but Daniel was still studiously staring at his feet. ‘We are thinking of establishing Elmswood as a trust—along the lines of what you have done here, only on a much smaller scale.’
‘What a wonderful idea!’ Eloise exclaimed. ‘Then, with all the extra time you’d have on your hands, you could expand the gardens—open them up to the public, perhaps?’
‘Kate has dedicated more than enough of her life to Elmswood.’ Daniel said firmly, finally meeting Eloise’s gaze. ‘She’s only thirty-three. She has her life ahead of her. It’s time she stopped devoting it to others and thought about herself.’
‘Daniel, now is neither the time nor the place—’
‘Are you saying that she has wasted her life on us?’ Eloise demanded.
‘No, your uncle doesn’t mean that...’
‘No, I definitely don’t mean that,’ Daniel said, putting a restraining hand on hers. ‘I am extremely grateful that she took on you and your sisters on my behalf...’
‘To say nothing of your estates.’
‘To say nothing of my estates,’ Daniel agreed. ‘But her work is done on both counts. It’s not my idea for Kate to leave Elmswood, it’s hers. And, contrary to what you think, Niece, there is no one who understands better than I how fortunate I am to have married her.’
‘And there is no one who understand better than I, Uncle Daniel, how fortunate we girls were to have Kate to look after us. I am afraid that we all leap too readily to Kate’s defence. She would be the first person to tell us that she can fight her own battles, but we love her so much, you see, and we are terribly aware of how much we owe her for what she has done for us. And now, to make matters worse, I’ve made her cry.’
Eloise jumped to her feet, throwing herself at Kate in an embrace that almost toppled the pair of them over.
‘You know that I don’t regret an instant spent with you three, silly girl,’ Kate said, laughing.
‘No, but Uncle Daniel is right,’ Eloise said. ‘You have more than earned the right to indulge yourself. I thought that he was putting you out to grass.’
‘Charmingly put,’ said Daniel. ‘Kate warned me that you had a peculiar way with words.’
‘Did she? You have the advantage over me, for I know almost nothing about you. And before you tell me that I am not permitted to ask questions,’ Eloise said, re-joining her husband, ‘I will remind you that I understand that better than most.’
‘Have you always known that Alexander was in the foreign service?’ Kate couldn’t help asking. ‘All these years and you’ve said not a word.’
‘I guessed early on in our marriage. I’ve said nothing because there’s nothing to say now. Alexander served his time, doing his duty to his country, just as you have served your time doing your duty to Elmswood. Are you thinking of retiring too, Uncle Daniel? Is that why you are here? To ask Alexander how he copes with the tedium of it?’
‘Yes, every day I wake up beside you, my love, and I think, If only I was alone in a makeshift tent in the pouring rain, with cold rabbit stew for my breakfast, looking forward to a day spent crouched behind a fence, watching a house through a spyglass.’
‘Are you retiring, Uncle Daniel? Will you and Kate—?’
‘No!’
‘No, Eloise, there is no question of...’
‘You’re making Kate and Daniel uncomfortable with your questions,’ Alexander said.
‘And I promised I would curb my curiosity and make him feel at home,’ Eloise admitted ruefully. ‘I do beg your pardon. I’ve done neither. Shall we go back to talking about Tilda? It’s much safer ground.’
‘You really are nothing like your mother. I mean there’s no question but that you’re Gillian’s child, but my sister didn’t have a compassionate bone in her body—and as to her caring about anyone’s feelings but her own...’
‘No, she never did. I didn’t mind for myself, but when she ignored the Twinnies it made me so angry. She would come home after months away and they would have made a little banner, saying Welcome Home, and she wouldn’t even notice. Estelle wrote a tune once—Oh, but I don’t like to talk of those unhappy days.’
‘I think Estelle gets her musical talent from Gillian,’ said Daniel.
‘I never once heard my mother play the pianoforte.’
‘She could play anything. Not particularly well, and she had no interest in applying herself or taking lessons, but she could pick out a tune, and she had one of those singing voices that send shivers down your spine.’
‘You’ve never mentioned that before, Daniel,’ Kate said.
‘I’d forgotten. No, not forgotten—put it to the back of my mind, I suppose.’
‘I don’t suppose I inherited my talent with a needle from her?’ Eloise asked.
Daniel burst out laughing. ‘No, she’d no more set a stitch than bake a cake. She couldn’t even be bothered to read a book for herself, though she did occasionally enjoy my tales of Ancient Greece.’
‘Doubtless on account of the affinity she felt with the goddesses,’ Eloise said.
Daniel grinned. ‘I never thought of that.’
* * *
‘It was good of you to bring Kate to see Eloise,’ Alex said the next day, as they settled themselves in his study. ‘She’s been desperate to show Tilda off, though understandably a bit nervous about accounting for her presence. Eloise was as certain as I that she didn’t want children. It’s a bit of a turnaround...not to say a shock for both of us.’
‘Though clearly a welcome one.’
Alex grinned. ‘I’ve never been happier.’
‘You don’t miss the service?’
‘Is that what you want to talk to me about? Are you thinking of giving it up?’
‘No—God, no. Unlike you,’ Daniel said, ‘I enjoy being alone in a makeshift tent in the pouring rain. Not that it often rains in the part of the world I tend to be assigned to.’
‘So Eloise got it wrong, then?’
‘That I am retiring? Yes, completely wrong.’
Alex drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. ‘She thinks that you and Kate—Lord, I’m sorry...have I touched a nerve?’
Daniel shook his head, wishing he had a cup of coffee. ‘Do you really not miss the life?’ he asked.
‘Never. The last time we met all those years ago in Egypt, when you suggested I marry Eloise—and now that you’re here I’d like to thank you for that from the bottom of my heart. No, don’t brush me off, Daniel. I mean it. Eloise has quite literally changed my life. For the good, as if there’s any question about that. I had no intention when we married that it would anything other than something similar to the arrangement you and Kate have, and that was all I wanted or needed. All Eloise wanted too.’
‘What changed your mind?’
Alex laughed. ‘Apart fr
om the obvious, the fact that we fell in love! Isn’t that enough?’
‘Was it?’
‘Actually, no, it wasn’t at first. I take it we’re coming to the nub of this conversation now?’
‘I need to understand, Alex. You know that favourite phrase of Sir Marcus’s?’
‘It’s all or nothing.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘I know it only too well. He warned me off too, you know, when he saw that I was becoming far too fond of Eloise—and he spotted that before I was ready to admit it to myself.’
‘The old fox... There’s a bit of me that wishes he’d fall hook, line, and sinker himself, and then we’d see if he changes his tune.’
Alex snorted. ‘Does the woman exist who’d take him on? She’d have to be a female Machiavelli to have even a fighting chance of reeling him in, far less domesticating the old trout. But I’ve not answered your question, have I? What made me choose Eloise over the work I’d devoted my life to? Especially since I loved the danger of it, and the excitement. Until that point I was never so happy as when I was on a mission—the more dangerous the better. But when I returned to duty that last time, after I was married, I was miserable. I’d spent most of my life since I was recruited out of school serving my country. What changed? I suppose it’s simple, really. I realised my job had filled a big gap in my life. A gap now completely filled by Eloise. There wasn’t room for both. All or nothing, remember?’
‘You make it sound so simple.’
‘It didn’t feel like it at the time, believe me. I spent weeks trying to persuade myself that I was wrong, that what had always made me happy would always make me happy, that being in love with my wife changed nothing. But it did. It changed everything.’
‘You never thought that Sir Marcus might be wrong?’
‘That I could have both? A happy marriage and my career? But my marriage wouldn’t have been happy, Daniel, with Eloise on tenterhooks, waiting for one of those dreaded official communiques. You know: Sorry to inform you...in the line of duty...blah-blah. Can’t tell you anything about how or why...can’t acknowledge his work...can’t pay a pension or award a medal...sure you’ll be comforted by knowing he served his country. Firstly, I would not subject Eloise to that pain. Secondly, I wouldn’t want Eloise simply marking time, waiting for me to come home in between assignments and wondering if I even will. Thirdly, it’s a damned dangerous life. You know what it’s like when you’re careless with your own life—the risk is irrelevant. When you do care, the odds are raised. I didn’t want to die, Daniel. I wanted to be with Eloise. And, last but by no means least, Sir Marcus is right. You can’t do what you do, what I did, half-heartedly. You lose your focus and you risk everything—and I don’t mean your own neck, but others. You have to make a choice.’
‘And you don’t regret the choice you made?’
‘Never. But...’
‘What?’
‘It’s different for me, Daniel. We were in the same line of work, but we’re not the same. Forgive me for being blunt...’
‘I need you to be blunt, Alex.’
‘Very well, then. Sir Marcus recruited both of us, and he has an eye for the kind of man ideally suited to our unique business. We are self-sufficient, we’re coolheaded in a crisis, we have an ear for languages, we have a facility for adapting ourselves to the situation. But I never immersed myself in work the way you do—mind you, I was never required to. I was always the man of action. You, though... You are whatever they want you to be, for however long they need you to be it, and then you’re someone else. I don’t know if what I’m saying makes sense...’
‘You were always Alex first, but I’ve never been Daniel?’
Alex laughed nervously. ‘Obviously Daniel Fairfax exists, but...’
‘But what?’
‘But no one knows who he is.’
‘Fortunately I know myself very well,’ said Daniel, and got to his feet. ‘I appreciate you being so frank.’
‘To hell with that—have I helped?’
‘I think so. Now, if you don’t mind, I think I’ll go and get some fresh air.’
* * *
‘You’re very quiet,’ Kate said. ‘You’ve barely said a word since we left Lancashire yesterday.’
‘We’ll be back at Elmswood in an hour, I reckon. I’m sorry it was such a short visit.’
‘Are you? That first night you seemed to be getting on so well with Eloise, but the second evening you seemed distracted.’
‘I had a lot to think about.’
‘So it was your conversation with Alexander that has made you so morose?’
‘Not morose, contemplative. I like Eloise. She’s very much her own woman. No prizes for guessing who she takes that from. I would like to know her better.’
‘But you won’t,’ Kate said, discovering to her surprise that her heart had yet further to sink.
‘Alex is very much his own man too. I never thought he’d be happy, settled into domesticity with a wife and a child, but he clearly is.’
‘You don’t think domesticity could make you happy?’
‘I have itchy feet—but it’s not only that. Alex said the strangest thing to me, Kate. “Obviously Daniel Fairfax exists,” he said, “but no one knows who he is.”’
‘It would be more accurate to say that Daniel Fairfax exists in many forms.’
‘And which one do you love, Kate?’
‘This one. The real one. Because Alexander is wrong, Daniel. I know you.’
‘Then you’ll understand why I can’t stay. Alex does agree with Sir Marcus that our work has to be all or nothing. That’s why he left...because he wanted a different life.’
‘With Eloise.’
‘It’s not that I don’t love you, Kate, it’s that I can’t envisage a different life. It is what I am and who I am. Sir Marcus knows that—it’s why he sent me to talk to Alex.’
‘I thought Alex might convince you to stay.’
‘I hoped he would too.’
She stared at him, almost wishing that he hadn’t told her. Such a bittersweet thing to know—that she had come so close to being first in his life. But not close enough.
‘Clever Sir Marcus.’
‘Yes.’
She wanted to howl, but she could see his throat working, had heard the ragged pain in that one word. So she reached for his hand, forcing it to unfurl, twining her fingers into his.
‘We can do this, Daniel.’ She touched his cheek, gently forcing him to face her. ‘We can do it.’
Chapter Eleven
Daniel completed the last length of the lake, then lay on his back, allowing himself to drift out to the middle while he brought his breathing back under control. Every day in the week since their return from that pivotal visit to Alex and Eloise he’d tried to push himself further, determined to be at peak of fitness when Sir Marcus summoned him. Though he wondered sometimes, as he forced himself to swim one more lap, and then one more, if he was actually trying to make himself ill again and unfit for duty.
It was raining, though only that light, inconsequential rain that verged on being mist, as if it were hedging its bets. He had grown accustomed to the coolness of the English summer now. He’d have to acclimatise himself again when he returned abroad. Though there was no guarantee that they would send him to his usual stamping ground, he supposed, in case his face was recognised. He didn’t give a damn where he was sent. He didn’t want to go anywhere. He had to get away from here. But he didn’t want to leave Kate.
Kate... Was she watching him from her bedroom window, as was her wont? She certainly hadn’t been there when he’d dived in. If only she would weep, or beg him to stay, or even ask him to reconsider. Then he’d be forced to explain himself, and in stating his reasons aloud he might find them more convincing. But she was resolutely silent, and he couldn’t stay. And he didn’t want to go.
&nbs
p; If only Kate could come with him. If only he was more like Alex. But he wasn’t like anyone. For the next two or three weeks he would continue to be Lord Elmswood. And then—what the hell did it matter? And then he would be someone else.
A violent shiver shook him. He swam to the bank, struggling to get a grip on the muddy grass, hauling himself out with difficulty. Grabbing his dressing gown, he pulled it on. Looking up, he was sure he saw Kate at her window. He waved, but she didn’t wave back. He turned, only to see Oliver St James appear with his wheelbarrow. The man lifted his arm in salutation, and something clicked in Daniel’s mind.
He looked up. Not to Kate’s window but to the master suite. His father had been watching. His heart began to beat very fast. His mouth was dry. His father had been watching what? Had he been swimming?
Still looking up, he headed for the terrace, but his foot slid on the muddy grass bank and he lost his balance, landing with a painful thud on his backside.
‘Let me help you up, sir. That was a nasty fall.’
That was a nasty fall.
Dazed, Daniel held out his hand. St James took it, pulling him to his feet with such force that he stumbled against the gardener. He put his hands on the man’s chest to break his fall. St James put his hands on his shoulders. Their eyes met, just for a moment, but St James’s invitation was clear. He knew exactly what it meant this time, but back then...
Daniel shook his head vehemently. ‘You’ve mistaken the situation.’
He stepped back, but St James had already released him, appalled.
‘I’m sorry, sir, I...’
‘You were helping me to my feet. There’s nothing to apologise for.’ Daniel had just enough sense of the consequences the man must be fearing to keep control of the turmoil he had inadvertently caused. ‘Do you hear me, St James? Forget about it. I intend to.’
‘Sir, I...’ The gardener nodded. ‘Thank you, sir, I...’
The Inconvenient Elmswood Marriage (Penniless Brides 0f Convenience Book 4) Page 20
