The Seduction of an English Lady

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The Seduction of an English Lady Page 16

by Cathy Maxwell


  At least twice Colin almost said something and then backed away. He wasn’t the one who had gotten up in the middle of the night or seemed distant this morning, and he’d be damned before he let her know her quietness bothered him.

  The drive was uneventful and miserable.

  Half an hour away from Maiden Hill, they heard the bay of the hounds in the distance.

  Rosalyn broke the interminable silence that had fallen between them. “Lord Loftus is on the hunt again,” she observed, her voice sounding as if she was relieved to finally have a topic of conversation.

  “Yes.” Colin forced a smile. “The man is mad for it.”

  “He thinks of little else all year round.” She didn’t look at him but watched a yeoman’s son and a pretty young lass walk past them on the side of the road. Their shy, budding affection for each other was obvious. They must have stolen a few moments away from their chores to be together.

  Rosalyn smiled at them—and Colin felt a pang of jealousy.

  “The hunt hardly qualifies as sport the way he plays it,” Colin said, a trace of the bitterness he was feeling in his voice. It was going to happen again. He saw that now. He was going to give Rosalyn his heart and, like Belinda, she would use it for her own purposes.

  Damn, but he was snared in a trap of his own making, only this time, he couldn’t run away. Worse, he was starting to fall in love….

  The direction of his thoughts shocked him. Here, on the road on a lovely spring afternoon, the realization hit him like a bolt of lightning—he was falling in love.

  Stunned and horrified, Colin pulled on the reins. Oscar halted but looked back to see what his master was about. After all, he’d stopped the horse in the middle of nowhere, and Oscar was wise enough to know this was not normal.

  “Colin, is something wrong?”

  Oh, yes, something was very wrong, but he’d not tell her that.

  “Your expression is so strange,” she said. “Are you taking ill?”

  With the worst malady in the world! He stared into her gray-green eyes and couldn’t decide if he saw a stranger or a lover. The hounds sounded closer, their abandoned howls emphasizing exactly how afraid he was.

  Yes, he was scared, frightened out of his wits. What man shouldn’t be, when confronted by love?

  Oscar spooked, his abrupt movement sending a shake all the way through the phaeton. Colin had to give his attention to the reins even as the reason for the horse’s skittish behavior was revealed. The fox crawled out from the thicket by the side of the road. Oscar had sensed he was there, only this wasn’t the wily, bold creature Colin had first met.

  No, this time, the animal had been run to ground. He was tired. His tongue hung out, and he panted from the exertion of escaping the chase.

  He glanced up at the horse as if just realizing Oscar’s presence, and then he dropped, too exhausted to go on.

  The hounds sounded closer. Colin could hear them crashing through the woods. Loftus was shouting them on, berating them to find him the fox—and Colin knew what he had to do.

  He jumped down from his perch on the phaeton and, without a moment’s hesitation, scooped the fox up by the nape of the neck. He climbed back up into his seat, settling the beaten animal between himself and Rosalyn.

  “What are you doing?” she asked. “You can’t take a wild creature like this with us.”

  “Watch me,” he said, and then thought enough to add, “hold on,” before cracking the tip of the whip on Oscar’s rump.

  They took off like a shot, racing toward Maiden Hill.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Rosalyn held on to the side bar of the phaeton for dear life. Colin was driving so fast that it seemed as if they were flying across the ground. When they took a curve on one wheel, she feared being thrown from the vehicle.

  And then there was the matter of the beast on the seat between them. Whoever heard of picking up a fox?

  Her bonnet blew off her head. Only the ribbons held it around her neck. The pins flew from her hair. Her husband didn’t care. He drove like a man possessed.

  They careened off the road onto the drive leading to Maiden Hill. Then, and only then, did Colin make any attempt to slow down.

  Rosalyn sat up. Her hair was a mess. She yanked at what was left of the bow around her neck and removed her bonnet. The poor hat. It had started the journey as her most fashionable article of clothing and ended it looking like a battered rag.

  The fox recovered and sat up between them. He acted as if riding beside Colin was the most natural thing in the world.

  “What do you think you are doing?” Rosalyn asked.

  Colin lifted a quizzical eyebrow. “Cooling down Oscar before I let you off at the front door.”

  “No, I mean about the fox.”

  Her husband looked down at the creature, and she swore the animal looked up at him and smiled. “I’m not going to do anything,” Colin said.

  “You can’t have a fox at Maiden Hill,” she explained carefully. “Especially this one. This is the fox Lord Loftus has been hunting all season, and if he ever finds out you stole it from him—”

  “You can’t steal something that doesn’t belong to a person in the first place. He can’t stake a claim on a fox. Nor will he find out,” Colin said firmly. “Unless you tell him.”

  “I won’t tell him, but, Colin, this is a wild creature. It’s not a pet.”

  “I know that, Rosalyn.” He glanced at his furry mate and said, “But I couldn’t leave him back there to be ripped apart by the dogs while Loftus laughed with glee.”

  Immediately, she felt contrite. “Oh, Colin, I know. Fox hunting is far from sporting…but what are we going to do with a fox?”

  “He can live at Maiden Hill.”

  “Live at Maiden Hill? A fox?”

  Her husband nodded, growing pleased with the idea. “Of course. He’ll be safe there.”

  “Yes, but will we?” she wondered.

  “Why would we not? He’s just a little fox. The only time they are a nuisance is around chickens. We don’t have chickens, do we?”

  “No, but we have ducks and geese. And think of our neighbors. They have chickens. Colin, what will we do if the fox gets into the neighbor’s henhouse?”

  “He won’t. Rosalyn, look at him. He’s as docile as a dog, and more intelligent.”

  The fox did seem that way. He’d been listening to them argue, his bright eyes going from one to the other.

  “But he isn’t a pet.” Her protests were growing weaker.

  “You are right. He deserves his freedom.” They’d arrived at Maiden Hill’s front door. He reined Oscar to a halt. “He’s fought so hard to elude Loftus,” he said to Rosalyn. “He was outnumbered, and yet he’s put up a valiant chase. I couldn’t let the dogs have him. I can’t let him fight alone.”

  “Oh, dear,” Rosalyn worried, understanding. She knew what it was like to struggle alone and feel no one was on her side…but she didn’t realize Colin could empathize with that battle, too.

  And it made her love him all the more. A love that she wasn’t certain he wanted.

  “Your fox is welcome here. Of course, you’d best behave yourself,” she told the creature.

  As if in answer, the fox jumped off the back of the phaeton. He leaped over her flower beds, winding his way past the rosebush they’d planted, and headed for the shrubs that formed the boundary of her yard. Just when she thought he was returning to the wild, the fox stopped. He looked back at them, one foot poised in the air. Silently, he communicated his appreciation before he disappeared into the undergrowth with a flick of his red bushy tale.

  Colin faced her. “Thank you.”

  She searched deep in his eyes, wishing she could tell what he was thinking. “I couldn’t see him ripped apart either.”

  “I know.” Colin smiled, and it was as if the world stopped. The connection between them was there. It hadn’t been something relegated to a single place and time. The early unease between them melted
away…

  The front door opened. “We’ve been so worried about the two of you!” Covey said. She had Cook and Bridget with her. They helped the older woman down the steps. “I was so surprised when, after days of waiting, I looked out the window and here you were. Where have you been? What has happened?”

  Rosalyn’s mind went blank. “I wrote a note…”

  But what had she said? Or had it been nothing more than Colin’s announcement he would take care of her?

  “I worried,” Covey answered as if it explained all. Cook hovered over her, and Rosalyn could see her friend had not been well.

  “You shouldn’t be standing out here,” Rosalyn said. “Let us go inside.”

  “Nonsense, I’ve never been better,” Covey vowed. “Now what of you? Do you have news?”

  Colin had jumped to the ground. He came around to Rosalyn’s side of the phaeton and said proudly, “We do. Let me introduce you to my wife.” He placed his hands on Rosalyn’s waist and swung her down to the ground.

  Covey held out her arms to receive Rosalyn. “I had so hoped such would be the case. Come and let me hug you, my child. This is joyous, joyous news!”

  Rosalyn accepted the embrace. “Does anyone else know?”

  “Lady Loftus has sent a messenger every day to discover if you have returned,” Covey said. “We shall send John to her immediately. She will be so happy for the two of you.”

  “Have you heard from my brother?” Colin asked.

  “No,” Covey answered, “although I am certain he knows. Information like this never stays a secret long, not in Clitheroe.”

  Colin made a small groan, and Rosalyn knew he was upset about his brother’s reaction. His troubled gaze met hers. “I should have said something before I left. I need to go see him now before he learns of our return through rumor.”

  “Do you wish me to go with you?” Rosalyn asked.

  “No, I think this is one interview I’d best do alone. Matt can be funny about some things.” Colin climbed back up in the seat of the phaeton. Oscar’s ears flattened. The horse had obviously been hoping their traveling was done.

  “I’ll return shortly,” he said, “and then you can give me a tour of the house. I’ve yet to have one.”

  Rosalyn laughed. “I will, and Cook will have a special dinner waiting.”

  “Good, I’m hungry.” With a wave of his hand, he turned Oscar down the drive.

  Rosalyn watched them until they were out of sight. She loved him so much. But was congenial companionship enough?

  Covey’s arm slipped through hers. “Everything will be fine,” she promised, and Rosalyn prayed she was right.

  Colin drove first to the rectory. Matt wasn’t there, but Val was—and her reception was cold.

  She answered his knock on the door, took one look at him, and turned away, leaving the door open for him to follow. She walked into the kitchen, where she’d started preparations for dinner.

  Emma sat at the kitchen table rolling extra pastry dough into little pies of her own. Val often let her do that. The child looked up at him with big eyes and whispered, “Hello,” and Colin knew he was in trouble. He gave Emma a secret wave in return.

  “You’ve heard the news,” he guessed as Val picked up a dressed hare by its legs and whacked the meat into pieces on a cutting board for their dinner.

  “I’ve heard rumors,” she threw over her shoulder. “Are we to wish you happy?”

  “Yes.”

  Without showing a speck of interest in the news he was married, Val said, “Your brother isn’t here. He’s at the church.”

  “Then I’ll go find him there.” She could have told him this at the door, but he guessed trailing after her was a penance of sorts. He started to retrace his steps, but her voice stopped him.

  “I think it a shame that you cut him out of something so important, Colin. He deserves better.”

  “I didn’t cut him out. I’m here to tell him the news.”

  “Yes, finally,” she said sarcastically.

  “I’m not a child, Val. I didn’t need his permission.”

  “Oh, Colin.” Her eyes softened. “That is the most foolish thing you have ever said.”

  He wasn’t certain what she meant. “I’m going to see Matt.” This time when he left, she didn’t stop him.

  Outside, he went down the street to the church. The late-afternoon shadows were lengthening across the graveyard. A robin eyed him as it hopped across the grass beneath the cherry tree, which was now fully bloomed in all its glory.

  Colin opened the church’s heavy, narrow door. All was quiet. The air still smelled of the incense used for special ceremonies. Light filtered through thick medieval stained glass, giving the sanctuary the air of another world. The heels of Colin’s boots sounded loud on the stone floor.

  He expected to find Matt busy fiddling with something or other. Instead, his brother sat in one of the back pews facing the altar. His hands were clasped in his lap, as if he were lost in deep prayer. Colin slipped in beside him.

  They sat quietly a moment, and then Matt asked, “So you decided to return home, did you?” There was a beat and then he added, “Again.”

  This was going to be a difficult conversation. “Well, I got married and there wasn’t anyplace else to go but home,” Colin answered, attempting to put a light note on the subject, and failing.

  “Nice of you to think of us.”

  Colin bristled at the implied criticism. “I’m a grown man, Matt. I don’t need permission.”

  His brother faced him. “Don’t need permission? Is that all I am to you? A substitute for our parents?” He shook his head in disgust. “I had hoped there was more between us. After all, you slept under my roof. You played with my children and ate the food my wife made.”

  “I didn’t meant to slight you, brother,” Colin answered, feeling an uncomfortable pang of guilt. “I got caught up in the moment. We were eloping and, since I haven’t had to answer to anyone for years, I didn’t think of it.” Which wasn’t completely true. He’d known Matt would not approve of an elopement.

  “I didn’t expect you to ‘answer’ to me, Colin. I expected you to include me.”

  His words hit Colin hard.

  For a moment, he couldn’t speak. His own selfishness stared him in the face, and he was ashamed.

  “I should have told you my plans,” Colin agreed. “But I feared you would be disappointed, and you know I was never good at handling your disappointment.”

  “Disappointed? Colin, I was hurt. You didn’t want me at your wedding.”

  “I eloped. There was no wedding.”

  “There could have been.” Matt shook his head as if attempting to rein in his anger. “All right,” he admitted, “I know you think I’m the fool for answering a calling to the church. I know you feel I failed in your eyes by choosing a country parish life to the politics of the Church. But I never thought you would not invite me to see you wed. Of course, why did I think that?” he said rhetorically. “You’ve kept me out of most of your life. I’m surprised you even came back to Clitheroe. Or did you want to show me how successful you had become?”

  Matt’s accusation took Colin by surprise. “I returned because Clitheroe is my home.”

  “Is it?” Matt snorted his thought on the matter and rose to his feet. He started to push past Colin’s legs to get out of the pew.

  Colin blocked his exit by placing his hand on the pew in front of them. “Explain yourself,” he challenged. “I’m bigger and stronger than you are, Matt. The days when we wrestled and you won because you are the oldest were over long ago, and I’ll prove it right here if I must. Now, answer me? What imagined sin have I committed that has you so set against me. Yes, I eloped, but I’m a man full grown. I have that choice.”

  “Then why are you even here?” Matt returned. “Go. Make your own way. You married the lady, you get the Commons seat, of what importance is family?”

  Another direct hit.

  Colin p
ulled his arm back, and his brother exited the pew and walked toward the pulpit to retrieve some papers lying there. Silently, Colin watched him. Matt was not as hard-hearted as he wished to pretend. His hands shook, rattling the papers.

  “Family is very important to me,” Colin managed at last.

  The muscles in Matt’s jaw tightened. He did not speak.

  Colin rose. “This is about Mother and Father, isn’t it?”

  “Is it?”

  “I sent money.”

  “Yes, you did,” Matt agreed, not looking at him.

  Colin gripped the edge of the pew in front of him. “Was it not enough?”

  At last his brother confronted him. “Do you think they appreciated the money more than they would have appreciated seeing you?”

  “I was away fighting, Matt. I couldn’t leave whenever I wished.”

  “But when you did return, you never came back. We heard you were in London. The Ribble Valley isn’t that much of the back country. People write letters, and we knew when you’d come and gone.”

  “I had commitments. Matters I had to attend to.” God, the excuses sounded weak to his own ears! “When I returned—which wasn’t often—the War Office usually demanded my time.”

  “Really?” Matt questioned with quiet disbelief. “You are a brave man, brother, but a coward in what is really important.”

  Guilt made Colin angry. He came out from the pew. “You’re jealous. You chose your calling and your direction, and now you see what I have and you are questioning your decisions.”

  Matt’s fist came down on the pulpit. “Nothing could be further from the truth!”

  “Oh, come now. You had a great future ahead, Matt. Father Ruley had plans for both of us. I followed his advice. You chose your own course, and now you are wondering if perhaps you hadn’t made the wisest choices. Well, you can’t blame me for that. You are the one who fell in love with Val. I had nothing to do with that.”

  “You believe Val is the reason I’m here?” Matt asked incredulously.

  “You were on your way to London before you met her,” Colin reminded him.

  “I was on the way to a devil of my own making until I met her,” Matt lashed back. “I know the dangers of unbridled ambition, Colin. And I’ve learned Father Ruley was an intelligent man but he didn’t know the first thing about life. To him, it was titles and money. He wanted me to dedicate my life to service in the Church but a Church of his own devising. He valued hierarchy and politics. It took Val’s love for me to see God and hear Him. I’m in this parish of my own choice. I like my work here. I’m a part of these people’s lives. I want to watch my children grow and know their father.” He leaned forward on the pulpit. “I would never have wanted my parents to die alone. I was even by Father Ruley’s side when he passed on. There was no one else there, Colin. He’d helped dozens of lads like us, and none of them were beside him except Father and me.”

 

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