Her ladyship sniffed. “Of course, it is common for women widowed in the war to remarry, often within an extraordinarily short time of their husbands’ deaths. My father took care of me, so I refused several proposals of marriage. Besides, I could not bring myself to replace Edgar.”
Lady Castleton’s rosy lips trembled. Dominic stifled an urge to kiss them. Shocked by the sudden, unbidden surge of passion, he castigated himself. He was no better than those gentlemen who sought her hand in marriage soon after her husband died. He gathered his wits. “Have you not placed an advertisement in the broad sheets to discover where your father’s account might be?”
Her eyes shone. “Thank you, I did not think of doing so. I shall take your advice without delay. An income however small would free me from the earl.” Like a schoolgirl, who had made a faux pas, she pressed her hand over her mouth. “Please forget that I confided it you.”
“If you wish. You don’t need to be nervous. I promise not to repeat a word of our conversation.” He hesitated before he continued. “I hope you will not consider me impertinent for asking if your situation is very disagreeable?”
“My father-in-law has been all that is kind, so I should not complain.”
“Sometimes it is good to voice one’s concerns,” Dominic reassured her.
“Yes, Mister Markham, I daresay.”
He gazed at her, entranced by the delicate colour advancing and retreating in Lady Castleton’s rounded cheeks. Surely it was not sinful for even a rector to appreciate her.
“My lady, if you are not at ease with the earl, perhaps you are ready to consider remarriage. You might meet a gentleman whose affection you could reciprocate.”
Her lips parted, the tip of her tongue emerged. Tenderness appeared in her eyes fringed by incredibly long, thick lashes. His sixth sense told him she was remembering her late husband. He hoped the past would not dominate her future and ‘her heart was not buried in the grave’. “I beg your pardon if I have offended you.”
“No need to apologise.” She opened her expressive eyes wide, “I am not affronted, only I don’t think I could ever again give my heart to any gentleman.”
“Perhaps you could not, at first, on the other hand successful marriages can be built on mutual liking and respect, after which sincere fondness follows.”
“I am sure you are right, for you have more experience than I do.”
“I beg your pardon! I am a bachelor.”
The lady’s eyelashes fluttered. She peeped at him through them. “I meant you must be accustomed to advising your parishioners.”
He cleared his throat. “You are right, sometimes, I am asked to give guidance.”
“I am sure it is helpful. By the way, my father-in-law would agree with you on the subject of remarriage. The earl says I am too young to remain a widow for the rest of my life. He also says sincere regard often grows after marriage.”
Dominic frowned. Had the earl spoken to Lady Castleton of his wish for him to marry her? Regardless of how much he wanted to know, to ask would be beyond the bounds of propriety. Besides, if she knew, there would probably be some awkwardness between himself and Lady Castleton. He cleared his throat.
“Please call on me if you ever think I can be of assistance. I should be delighted to be of service to you.” He frowned. “Are you completely dependent on your father-in-law? Have you no blood relatives who might be of assistance?”
Lady Castleton’s forehead creased. “I doubt it, Mister Markham. My parents were estranged from their families. I only know Mamma was born in Devonshire, to Henry Yates, a naval officer, the younger son of a baronet, and Jane, a squire’s daughter.”
“Your father’s family?”
“Papa was the second son of Sir Sidney, Baronet Loxbeare. “ She sighed. “Mama told me the Yates refused their permission for her to marry a younger son, a mere lieutenant, who could not afford to support a wife.” Lady Castleton blushed. “The Yates and the Loxbeares ranted when my parents eloped.” A few seconds passed before she spoke again. “To make matters worse the Loxbeares considered my father made a mésalliance and disowned him. Even if any of my grandparents are still alive, I am sure they would want nothing to do with me.” More colour flooded Lady Castleton’s cheeks. “I daresay you are shocked.”
“Elopements are not to be recommended, particularly by a clergyman. Yet they are not entirely uncommon and may be forgiven.” Dominic hoped his smile would reassure her. “I hope your parents did not regret theirs.”
A radiant smile illuminated Lady Castleton’s face. “No, indeed they did not. Their mutual love was obvious to everyone. There was nothing they would not have done for each other, and no sacrifice was too great.” She frowned. “However, in my opinion, Mamma’s was greater. When she spoke of her family I think she still hoped they would forgive her for running away from home.”
Lady Castleton’s tiny hands clutched a fold of her pale pink, muslin morning gown. “Perhaps she gave up more than Papa, for I think he cared less for his family than she did for hers. Of course, he did not endure all the same hardships as Mamma after she insisted on following the drum. Oh!” she exclaimed, a comical look of dismay on her face, “how can I explain? Often, we put up in flea-ridden quarters in small villages. At other times snow weighed down our tents. If those conditions were not bad enough, Mamma was often hard-put to feed us. Not the life for a gently reared lady.”
Dominic regarded her thoughtfully. “Nor for you.”
Lady Castleton laughed. “Unlike my mother, I am not gently reared.” She held out her hands. “I can scrub floors as well or better than any maidservant, bargain for food like a loud-mouthed fishwife, be ready to march within an hour and –”
“March?”
“An exaggeration. Mamma and I either rode or travelled in a carriage. What must you be thinking of me. Despite the circumstances, my parents did not entirely neglect my education. Mamma taught me to read, write, figure and sew. My embroidery has been admired, and I can make clothes. In winter quarters, or on the rare occasions when Papa insisted we could not follow him, I learned to play the pianoforte and had singing lessons. I also learned to speak and write French and Spanish.”
“I am in awe of your accomplishments, my lady.” Dominic suspected there might be a twinkle in his eye. “Particularly your ability to scrub floors on your hands and knees and … er … bargain like a fishwife. f I may say so you appear too delicate to-”
“Don’t be under any misapprehensions, Mister Markham. Although I am small, I am strong -. Oh, you are laughing at me.” She pouted but did not seem annoyed when she continued. “I assure you I needed those skills as much I needed to be a good horsewoman from an early age. Of course, my father made certain of that. When we crossed the Pyrenees my life depended on it.” Lady Castleton stared into the distance. “I will never forget the journey through snow-covered mountain passes. Indeed, Mister Markham, I thank God for my survival.” A shadow appeared to cross her beautiful face. “Why should I speak of such matters? I am safe here on a glorious summer day. For this, at least, I am grateful to the earl, who has been generous since we met fifteen months ago. Although-. No I must not say it.”
“I have already said, you may say anything to me in confidence. Also, as a clergyman and one who wishes you well I want to help you in any way I can. If you do not completely unburden yourself to me, I cannot.”
“You are kind, but I am hesitant for fear you might think badly of me.”
Think badly of her! He could not imagine doing so. “Unless you have murdered someone, and I assume you have not, I cannot imagine why I should think ill of you.”
For a moment, Lady Castleton’s well-modulated laughter rang out, presumably at the thought of having committed a murder. The expression on her face sobered. She scrutinised him, maybe weighing him up, while trying to decide whether or not be frank. Her deep breath that caused her breasts to rise and fall. “I mistrust my father-in-law. He wishes to supplant me in my son’s affec
tions, to buy his love by granting his every wish.” At first she spoke slowly. “Under his grandfather’s influence Arthur has changed. He is no longer the well-mannered child, who first arrived at my father-in-law’s London house.” Her words came faster. “I am sorry to say he is wilful, which is why he would have died if you had not rescued him from the lake. I would like to leave Clarencieux with Arthur; regrettably, I have not the means to do so.” Tears traced their way down her cheeks. Her handkerchief neglected, like a small girl, she brushed them away with the back of her hands. “Forgive me, although life has thrown so much at me, I rarely cry.”
Despite many people who confided their woes to him whom he tried to assist, he wanted to be of help Lady Castleton more than any of them. She was too young and too vulnerable to have suffered so much, and to be at the mercy of a man such of Pennington’s type.
Dominic wished he could comfort her with a hug. Confound the proprieties which forbade it. Moreover, he wanted to solve her problems and protect her. “My lady, I appreciate your difficulties. With your permission I shall place an advertisement in the newspapers to find out who your father banked with. And, if you have no objection, I will search for members of your family. Please write down whatever you know about them – your parents, siblings and other relatives – anything which would be useful. I am sure some of them would be delighted to meet you.”
“You are so kind. How can I thank you?”
The door opened. Arthur ran across the room and flung himself into his mother’s arms. “Grandfather and I rode to a farm. The farmer’s wife curtsied to me and gave me gingerbread. Grandfather says one day the farm and everything else he has will be mine.”
Pennington followed the child into the room.
Dominic stood and bowed to the earl, who nodded his head at him, before he turned his attention to his grandson. “Your manners, Lord Arthur. Make your bow instead of clinging to Lady Castleton like a common boy. If you want to own the abbey in the future, you must behave like a gentleman.”
Arthur pulled himself free of his mother’s embrace, made a creditable bow, looking at the earl for approval.
Pennington gestured to the door. “You may go to the nursery.”
In spite of his pout, Arthur obeyed his grandfather.
“Papa,” Lady Castleton began after the doors closed, “Arthur is pale after his recent ordeal. He is also terrified of water. Last night he had a nightmare about the lake. I would like to take him to Brighton. Sea-bathing is considered beneficial and it might cure Arthur of his fears.”
“Brighton? I think not. The Prince Regent’s pavilion is vulgar is it not?”
His daughter-in-law cleared her throat. “Another seaside town?”
Pennington shook his head. “No, I have not planned for Arthur to visit one. However, I fear country life is too quiet for you, so I have decided to hold a ball. It will give you confidence before you go to London for the season and be presented at court.” He looked down his nose at her. “I don’t wish you to be tied to the nursery like a drudge instead of taking your place in society. To help you do so, I have hired your dance master, and also arranged for young ladies and gentlemen from neighbouring families to join your lessons.”
Dominic admired and sympathised with Lady Castleton. When the earl refused his permission to take Arthur to Brighton, although her cheeks flamed red as a raging fire, she kept a tight rein on her temper.
The expression in his eyes cold, Pennington looked from his daughter-in-law to Dominic. “I see you have been furthering your acquaintance with Lady Castleton. Would you care to partake of nuncheon with us?
“No, thank you, I have an appointment.” Dominic bowed. “My lord, my lady, good day to both of you.”
Not until he mounted his horse, did he remember, yet again he forgot to ask for Bessie Cooper’s reference. Why did Lady Castleton’s society make him so forgetful? Magic, he decided. Unashamed of his whimsy, he chuckled.
Chapter Eight
Dominic sat in his sun-filled library on the morning after the Earl of Pennington announced he would hold a ball. Head bent over a sheet of paper, he penned a letter to Lady Castleton, in which he requested her to write a reference for Bessie Cooper. Satisfied with the composition, he sprinkled sand to onto the ink. When it had dried, folded the letter into three, and then sealed it with his signet ring, which bore his family’s insignia, a fierce falcon, with outstretched wings, beneath a coronet.
In the hope of finding out where Lady Castleton’s deceased father banked, Dominic drafted an advertisement to be placed in newspapers on her behalf. He read the draft, and made two amendments before he copied it in elegant copperplate handwriting, which had won his tutor’s praise in the schoolroom.
The clock struck ten. Outside, the pleasant summer day tempted him to go riding. Perhaps Gwenifer would like to accompany him. No, he should write his sermon, for which he chose Text Eight from Proverbs: Pride goeth before destruction, and an haughty spirit before a fall. In the unlikely event of Pennington attending ¬morning service at Saint Michaels and All Saints the topic would benefit him.
He put down his quill. Perhaps he should have accepted the earl’s offer of another lucrative parish. One where he could preach for his lordship’s benefit, but that might have proved impossible. More than likely the earl would have chosen topics for sermons and told him to be brief when he delivered them from the pulpit.
Dominic shrugged. He had never received divine inspiration. Moreover, he only took holy orders because it was the tradition for the fourth son of a noble family to forge his way in the church. Given a choice, he would have preferred to be a hussar. Yet, even if he were not a churchman, he would always be a staunch supporter of the Anglican Church. Nonetheless his faith in God, never flinched, so he endeavoured to perform his duties conscientiously. No, it would not suit him to be dictated to by a patron of Pennington’s ilk to whom he would owe an additional living.
After Dominic wrote the text on a piece of paper, he jotted down a few notes. Well-aware most of members of his congregation’s attention was limited, and the children soon became bored, his sermons did not exceed half an hour. He frowned. Apart from the squire, most of his flock comprised of tenant farmers, craftsmen or labourers. He must take care to point out pride in honest work was not a sin. He made another note.
Ill-at-ease, due to his regret because he entered the church, Dominic questioned his humility. Irritated, he pushed pen and paper aside and considered Lady Castleton.
He recalled the Shakespeare’s words in The Merchant of Venice. ‘Where is fancy bred? Or in the heart or in the head? How begot, how nourished?’
Well, he could not deny his attraction to Lady Castleton. Did she reciprocate? He not only admired her dainty figure, beautiful eyes, melodious voice, he was also appreciative of her self-control and lack of self-pity. He frowned. Although Pennington suggested he should court her, as Lady Castleton’s birth was inferior to his, he doubted his father would consider her a suitable daughter-in-law?
Dominic stood. He turned around to gaze through the window at the peaceful scene, with the suspicion that, if he allowed her to, Lady Castleton would wreak havoc on his heart. In fact, to be honest, she already disturbed it. Well, the first thing to do would be to fulfil his promise to trace her family, and find out if any of them would welcome her back into its proverbial bosom. A sharp pang disturbed him. If they did, she might take up residence with them and he might never see her again. No sooner did the thought enter his mind than his desire to become better acquainted with her swelled.
He smiled at the sight of Lady Castleton mounted on a neat grey mare arrive at the rectory. The groom, who accompanied her, dismounted to open the garden gate. Her ladyship rode to the front door, where she disengaged her foot from the stirrup attached to her side saddle.
Dominic reached Lady Castleton before the groom could close the gate, follow her down the path and help her dismount. Thrilled like a callow youth in the throes of his first love af
fair, Dominic reached up. With a hand on either side of her waist, he lifted her down. He wished he enjoyed the right to put his arms around her and hold her close.
The lady looked up at him, her chin level with the top button of his coat. “Thank you for your assistance, Mister Markham.”
Delicate colour filled Lady Castleton’s cheeks. Her blue eyes soft as the sky on a mild summer day looked into his.
“You are welcome, very welcome. My sister will be delighted to see you,” he greeted her, trying to resist the temptation she posed.
“Well, sir, even if you are not delighted to see me, I hope you are pleased to see me.” Her eyes widened, and she covered her beautifully shaped mouth with her gloved hand. “Oh! What must you think of me? Mamma always scolded me for saying the first thing that came into my head. I fear I will never learn to be a lady,” she said, her voice somewhat muffled by her hand.
The self-reproach in her expressive eyes amused him. “My lady, I appreciate your honesty.”
With a swirl of her skirts Lady Castleton turned around to remove some papers from her saddlebag.
“Ah, you have brought-” Dominic began.
Her ladyship put a finger to her lips.
He realised she did not want him to mention her business in front of the groom.
“My lady, do you wish me to hold your horse’s reins while I wait for you?” the man asked.
His would be annoyed if the horses left more droppings on the gravelled path. Dominic gestured to the side of the substantial brick building. “You may lead them to the stable yard at the back of the Rectory.”
“Odious man.” Harriet said when the groom was too far away to hear. “I am convinced he and the earl’s other servants report on me to him.” A frown creased her forehead. “It is unlikely his lordship would approve of your suggestions to find my father’s bank and locate my family. I think he is determined to dominate me.”
Tuesday's Child (Heroines Born on Each Day of the Week Book 3) Page 7
