Wendy Soliman

by Duty's Destiny

  Her father had changed little. He had perhaps gained a little weight, his handsome face now sporting the beginnings of heavy jowls, his waistline a little thicker, just beginning to run to fat. But he still had that inexplicable air of authority about him which he’d used in the past to bend her to his will, playing on her deep-rooted sense of duty. She vowed that it wouldn’t happen today, though, knowing that if she showed the slightest sign of fear he would detect it and she’d be lost.

  “Good afternoon, Father.” She was astonished at her level, confident tone of voice.

  “Saskia. So you’ve come to your senses at last.”

  “As you see.”

  “You look well, m’dear.”

  His eye roved over her smart new travelling gown with obvious approval, and Saskia was grateful now that Felix had forced her to accept it. He’d been right about that, just as he was right about so much else. She deliberately allowed a small silence to ensue before responding to her father, something she would never have dared to do in the past.

  “Thank you, I’m in perfectly good health.”

  Her father moved round his desk, ushering her to a large wing chair on one side of his fire, taking the one opposite for himself. Saskia perched elegantly on the edge of her seat, her head turned slightly to one side so that she was obliged to look at him through the protection of the plume on her bonnet, making it impossible for him to read her expression.

  “And how are my grandchildren?”

  “My children are in the best of health, I thank you.”

  “And so, my dear, to what do I owe this unexpected pleasure? Dare I hope that you’ve come to your senses at last, and wish to return home?”

  “Indeed not, father. I’m most comfortably settled with Aunt Serena.”

  When he was unable to prevent himself from scowling at her defiance, Saskia understood just how much it must be costing him to maintain an amiable visage.

  “Then — ”

  The time had come to make her request. Saskia had decided that she would not beg or plead, knowing it would put her at a disadvantage. She’d surprised her father with her visit and currently held the upper hand. It was a position she didn’t intend to cede. She spoke, now, in a brisk tone.

  “We have a new guest at Riverside House who has attracted my attention.”

  “Indeed?” Her father’s bland expression gave nothing away.

  “He wishes to be introduced to you.”

  “And why would he wish that?”

  “A matter of mutually beneficial business, so I’m given to understand.”

  “This new guest must have made quite an impression upon you, Saskia, if you’re willing to break your insolent silence at his behest.”

  Saskia forced herself to remain calm, knowing it would be a grave miscalculation if she were to rise to his bait. “He’s a gentleman, Father. A handsome and well-connected gentleman, with charming manners.”

  “Is he, indeed?” Her father quirked one bushy eyebrow. “Well, perhaps that explains it. He’s an excellent dancer too by all accounts.” Saskia remained demurely silent. “You’ve become very striking with maturity, Saskia. You look more like your mother every day.”

  His voice trailed away. Saskia allowed the silence to stretch between, determined not to be the one to break it.

  “Does your gentleman have a name?”

  “Mr. Felix Beaumont, and he resides in Bristol.” Saskia paused. “He advises me that he is commissioned to undertake business on behalf of the Marquis Rydon, amongst others, although I’m ignorant as to the nature of that business.”

  “Just as you should be.” Her father gave a nod of approval, just as she’d known he would. It was all Saskia could manage not to smile. He leaned back in his chair and regarded her with a contemplative expression. “And why would I wish to discuss business with someone I don’t know? What would I have to gain from such a situation?”

  “I know not, Father.” Saskia lifted her shoulders. “Obviously that’s a question only you can answer. Mr. Beaumont considers our meeting to be a fortunate coincidence, since he came to this part of the country on purpose to seek you out. He intended to call upon you and make himself known, but when he discovered our relationship he simply requested that I facilitate the introduction. I didn’t wish him to know that we are estranged,” she added with deliberate hesitancy. “But no matter, Father.” She stood up. “If you would rather not acknowledge him, I shall leave him to find his own way to you.”

  “Not so fast, Saskia. You’ve changed, m’dear. You are far more self-possessed than used to be the case.” He smiled. “You’ve developed something of your mother’s impatient nature as well.”

  Saskia bit back the retort that sprang to her lips, and contented herself with a casual inclination of her head.

  “What do I stand to gain from all of this?” he repeated and this time she realized he wasn’t referring to business acquisitions. There was a hunger, a glimmer of hopefulness in his eye, which he didn’t trouble to hide from her.

  “My gratitude, Father,” she said softly.

  “Is that all?”

  “For now.” She paused. “I really do admire Mr. Beaumont.” Her implication could not have been plainer, or more honestly expressed.

  “And if I see him, will you in return bring my grandchildren to visit me?”

  Saskia blanched. So, Felix had been right about that too. He’d anticipated that her father would use the opportunity to force his way back into their lives, and had arranged it so that they wouldn’t be in the locality in the immediate future. She felt a sudden rush of gratitude for his foresight.

  “When you have conducted your business, if you still wish it, I will do so.”

  “I’ve wished for little else these past six years. Now then — ”

  The door flew open. “Papa, I, oh…Saskia, is that you?”

  “Hello, Elsbeth.”

  “I didn’t know you were here. I must say I admire your nerve after all the upset you’ve caused dear Papa.”

  She scowled at Saskia as she sat on the arm of Barker’s chair, seemingly intent upon making a territorial claim in front of the prodigal daughter. He was having none of it, though, and pushed her away, not even bothering to glance in her direction.

  “Get out, Elsbeth.”

  “But, Papa — ”

  “Go!” he roared, so loudly that she fled the room, bestowing a glare of pure vitriol on Saskia as she did so.

  “Your Mr. Beaumont may come to dinner tomorrow evening, Saskia,” said her father, “provided that you also come.”

  Come herself? She’d not bargained for that, but covered her confusion by dipping her head and taking refuge behind the plume. “Very well, Father.” She stood and smoothed down her skirts. “Thank you.”

  “Saskia.” His voice stopped her as she moved toward the door. “Welcome home, my dear. You can have little idea how much I’ve missed you.”

  His possessive tone sent shivers down her spine and she fled from the house, not noticing Johnson standing in the shadows in the hallway, watching her with hunger in his eyes.

  Felix stepped forward and caught Saskia as she left her father’s drive, almost at a run. She fell into his arms, her eyes blinded by tears, shaking and apparently incapable of supporting herself. Felix closed his arms around her, physically lifted her into his curricle, and drove off at a cracking pace, leaving Southview Manor behind them in a matter of minutes. As soon as he was sure they were out of sight of her father’s house, he brought the carriage to a halt on a lonely stretch of coast road, and pulled her close.

  “Was it so very terrible?” he asked.

  “No, it wasn’t that bad.” He could tell she was lying. “He was surprised to see me, but couldn’t hide his pleasure, because he thought I’d given in at last.”

  “Yes, we anticipated that.”

  “He’s invited us both to dine tomorrow evening.”

  “Both of us?” Felix jerked upright. “That I hadn’t
anticipated.”

  “No, nor I.”

  “Well, it’s of no consequence, since I won’t put you through that. You’ve more than played your part. I’ll find another way.”

  “Oh no, we can’t stop now.”

  “Look at you,” he said gently. “You’re trembling all over. You have been more than courageous, but enough is enough.”

  “No really, I’m fine!”

  But she was unable to suppress a racking sob. Felix suspected that his concern did what her father’s subtle threats had been unable to achieve, and shattered the remnants of her self-control. He pulled her closer, stroked her back, and whispered soothing endearments as she sobbed against his shoulder.

  And then, without warning, Saskia wasn’t crying any more. Instead she was kissing Felix as greedily as he was kissing her. Felix wasn’t sure if it was wise for her to exorcise her demons in a manner that she might later regret, but was powerless to reject her. His body felt as though it was melting into hers. He was unsure where hers ended and his began. Neither of them was in control. If he didn’t stop this now he would be unable to do so.

  By a supreme effort of will, he broke their scorching kiss. Saskia, looking dazed, traced the outline of his cheek with her gloved fingers. He gently removed them and kissed each one in turn, still gripped by the fierce passion running riot through his bloodstream. With his tongue he traced the line of her tears, still wet upon her cheeks, until they were all gone. She shuddered and offered him a tremulous smile.

  “You have a strange way of offering comfort.”

  “I did warn you before about my tongue.” His smile was a provocative challenge.

  “That you did.”

  He forgot about self-control and kissed her again, more possessively still, forcing her lips apart with his tongue, gently at first but then more assertively, demanding and receiving complete capitulation.

  “Still not good enough?” he asked in mock irritation.

  She shook her head in brazen denial.

  “I see. Well now, Mrs. Eden, you may as well know that I don’t take criticism well.”

  He set about proving it, convinced by the time he reluctantly released her that she had, at least for the time being, forgotten all about her terrifying confrontation with her father.

  When he took up the ribbons again he was in a reflective frame of mind. He’d forgotten that such an achingly acute degree of desire was possible, and was tormented to the point of insanity by the blatant need he could observe in her eyes. He didn’t trust himself to remain alone with her for one moment longer.

  Chapter Eleven

  FELIX SENT WORD TO LUC that Saskia’s departure with the twins would be delayed by one day, confident that he’d make no objection to postponing his own departure accordingly.

  As Saskia, looking breathtakingly beautiful in her new turquoise gown, entered her father’s drawing room that evening for the first time in six years, Felix could only guess at the conflicting emotions she was experiencing. Her features were arranged in an impenetrable mask, and it was impossible for him to detect her true feelings. He was proud of her air of composure, well aware what effort of will it had taken her just to walk into the room.

  A man, obviously Barker, stepped forward and took his daughter’s hand.

  “Saskia, my dear, you’ve come.” He studied her for what seemed like an eternity. “You really are here.”

  “Good evening, Father. May I present Mr. Beaumont?”

  The gentlemen had barely shaken hands before Saskia’s older brother, Charles, stepped forward. He mumbled something incoherent beneath breath which already smelt strongly of liquor, and placed an awkward kiss on his sister’s cheek. Gerald was far less circumspect, and expressed genuine pleasure at seeing her. Saskia returned his warm embrace without reservation, just as she did that of his wife, Harriet.

  Another lady then approached, blonde hair piled high and watery blue-eyes sparkling from a pretty face. Her body was veering toward heaviness. She was wearing an embroidered white lawn gown, a colour which didn’t suite her pale complexion and did little to conceal the plumpness of her figure. The bodice was cut so low as to leave little to the imagination, and her face was heavily coated with powder.

  Elsbeth, for it was she, pointedly ignored Saskia, and reserved all of her attention for Felix, casting a look of unadulterated lust in his direction. Observing, her, her husband snorted and reached for the decanter.

  Felix fell into conversation with Saskia’s father, taking every opportunity to name his aristocratic patrons and incorporating such salacious on-dits into the conversation as he thought appropriate, intent upon impressing Barker with the depth of his social connections.

  Saskia was deep in conversation with her younger brother and his wife, so when Barker excused himself to talk to his steward, Felix was left to Elsbeth’s tender mercies. He would never touch such a woman in a thousand years, but no one would have guessed as much from his responses to her flirtatious overtures. Barker returned to the room accompanied by a man whom Felix recognised as Johnson, Barker’s steward. Saskia noticed him, also, and tensed when Johnson, with almost indecent haste, rushed to her side. She flinched at the touch of his hand, and every bone in Felix’s body ached to rescue her…but he couldn’t intercede, at least not yet. Barker was carefully observing him, and Felix needed to concentrate his efforts on tempting the man to fall in with his scheme. Even so, he cursed his lack of sensitivity in embroiling Saskia in a situation she abhorred. Whatever the outcome this evening, she wouldn’t be subjected to such torture a second time. The sooner she was safely ensconced at Western Hall, out of harm’s way, the better he would feel.

  Dinner was announced, which meant Saskia was rescued from Johnson only to be replaced by her father, who offered her his arm. Felix forced himself to do likewise with Elsbeth; sitting directly across from Saskia, he played his part and blatantly flirted with the wretched girl for the duration of the meal.

  Felix knew Barker wouldn’t talk about business before the ladies withdrew, but was surprised when he didn’t immediately do so over the port. Instead, he allowed the conversation to flow, but remained mostly silent himself. Felix began to wonder whether he’d underestimated the man, when he became the exclusive target of Barker’s exacting scrutiny. It was almost as if he was trying to fathom his true purpose. He would have given much, at that moment, to be privy to his thoughts.

  When they rejoined the ladies, Barker asked his daughter to play for him. Saskia inclined her head and sat at the instrument.

  “It is a long time since I last heard music of such quality in this room,” he observed at the end of her performance.

  “Absolutely!” Gerald smiled fondly at his sister.

  Elsbeth sulked when Felix ignored her attempts to flirt with him and joined in the praise being heaped upon Saskia.

  “Come with me, Beaumont,” Barker said, rising abruptly. Johnson followed them into Barker’s library.

  “Now, you have something you wish to discuss with me.”

  “Indeed I do.” Felix settled himself more comfortably into a deep armchair, arranging his limbs in a relaxed pose. “I have the honour to represent the Marquis Rydon. He requires certain commodities that I understand you might be in a position to supply.”

  Barker raised a brow. “Indeed, and what might they be?”

  Felix named the usual merchandise: ankers of brandy, barrels of wine, tobacco, and silk, all in large enough quantities to cause Barker to raise one eyebrow.

  “But why come to me for such mundane merchandise? Presumably these things are readily available in Bristol to one as well connected as the Marquis?”

  “Because, sir, the marchioness has developed a fancy for a rather more, eh, exotic commodity which I believe only you are in a position to supply her with.”

  “And what would that be?”

  “Two Negro footmen.”

  Barker and Johnson exchanged a significant glance. “And what makes you imagine I cou
ld be of service to her ladyship in that respect?”

  “Oh come now, Barker, I make it my business to know such things.”

  “Then you’re losing your touch. You’ve had a wasted journey, since I’m unable to assist you.”

  Felix would have been surprised if he’d said anything else, and simply shrugged his regret. “Not wasted, sir, I do assure you, for I’ve had the good fortune to make your daughter’s acquaintance.” Felix spoke casually, making the statement sound deliberately suggestive. Johnson bunched his fists and took a step toward him, but Barker halted him with a gesture.

  “You will return to Bristol at once then?”

  “I might dally here for a day or two longer,” he drawled, his eyes on the closed door to the drawing room. Johnson growled, but was obviously a well-trained henchman, because he didn’t move this time. “Pity you’re not up to satisfying her ladyship’s whim,” Felix continued. “She was most put out to discover that Lady Ballyman has a black retainer, and is quite determined to outdo her by securing two of her own. She would probably have included you in one of her entertainments at Rydon Hall to demonstrate her gratitude. No matter.” Felix shrugged and made to leave the room. “Thank you for your hospitality, sir. I’ll continue with my enquiries elsewhere.”

  Felix sensed that the prospect of an invitation to Rydon Hall had succeeded, where all his other enticements had failed.

  “Not so fast, sir.”

  Felix paused, hand on the door handle, and turned back to face Barker.

  “It’s possible that I could direct you to the person whom you seek. Pray, remain at my sister’s house for a few days more, and I’ll be in touch.”