Gayle Callen - [Brides of Redemption 02]

by Surrender to the Earl

  “I know,” she whispered. For just a moment, she wished she could confide the truth in her sister, that she wasn’t marrying the earl, but if that knowledge got to their father . . . she’d be trapped there forever.

  “How do you make these men feel sorry for you?” Blythe asked in a bewildered voice.

  Audrey heard Molly inhale swiftly, and she herself felt defensive. Calmly, she said, “Blythe, do you remember that I was lied to by Mr. Blake? He never felt sorry for me. He used me and betrayed me.”

  There was a taut silence, and then Blythe suddenly whispered, “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

  That was progress, Audrey thought, beginning to feel hopeful. “And as for Lord Knightsbridge . . . if I thought for one moment he felt sorry for me, I would send him on his way. But why should he, Blythe? Why should my condition matter to him at all, if he has feelings for me? He doesn’t owe me anything, especially not pity. I didn’t encourage his interest, but I did not turn him away, either. And if he didn’t have feelings for me, why would he make a blind woman his countess?”

  “I don’t know!” Blythe cried. “But is it not suspicious?”

  Audrey opened her mouth to respond, then closed it. It would be suspicious, if it had been true. But Blythe didn’t know that. “I promise I will consider this engagement very carefully. I’ll be in my own home, and he’ll be in his. I’ll meet people from his village, get to know more about him. Will that satisfy you?”

  “I—I suppose so.”

  Audrey heard a whirl of her skirts.

  “I need to finish packing,” Blythe said.

  “Do you have wonderful plans for when you visit Father’s sister in London?” It was what she always asked whenever Blythe went away. Normally, it was like rubbing salt in her own wounds, having to live through her sister’s adventures—or the brief crumbs Blythe told her. But not anymore.

  Blythe didn’t answer, and Audrey told herself that perhaps she’d been walking away so fast, she hadn’t heard.

  Just before luncheon, a carriage drove below her window.

  “Molly?”

  A moment later, Molly said, “It’s the family carriage, Miss Audrey. And I saw Miss Blythe as it went by.”

  Audrey sighed. “So she left without even saying good-bye.”

  “I’m sorry, miss.”

  “Don’t be. That conversation might have been one of the best we’ve ever had. I think she was honestly worried about me, beneath her anger. I will write to her when I reach my new home.”

  My new home, she repeated in her head. It felt good.

  Luncheon was cold meat and sandwiches, so that the men could get back outside. The afternoon was for fishing, and Robert might have declined so that he could help Mrs. Blake, but he thought his presence in the house would only exacerbate Lord Collins’s fury. And it had been good to spend time with Mr. Collins, who didn’t seem like a bad chap. He wanted to get to know Robert, too. His protectiveness of his sister was very late, but welcome just the same.

  At dinner, Robert made certain he could sit beside his “fiancée.” More of the men spoke to her, too, as if being a future countess suddenly made her a person in their eyes.

  The evening in the drawing room didn’t last long, as everyone would be getting an early start home in the morn. When the room was at last just family and Robert, Lord Collins started to leave. He hadn’t spoken a word to Robert or Mrs. Blake all evening.

  “Lord Collins, may I have a word?” Robert called, rising to his feet. He noticed Mrs. Blake stiffen.

  Her father came to a stop near the door. “Say it quickly.”

  “Will Mrs. Blake be able to take her gelding?”

  Mrs. Blake tilted her head toward him, but said nothing.

  “No, it’s my horse,” the baron said darkly.

  “Erebus has been trained to carry me, Father,” Mrs. Blake pointed out. “To train another horse could take years.”

  “I’ll purchase it from you,” Robert said flatly, “as my engagement gift to Mrs. Blake.”

  “Father,” Mr. Collins began.

  “Fine! Take it!” Lord Collins said harshly and stormed out into the hall.

  Mr. Collins gave Robert an apologetic glance. “I’ll speak to him.” To Mrs. Blake, he said, “Shall I leave you alone with Lord Knightsbridge?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  Mr. Collins eyed Robert speculatively, then closed the door. Robert sat back down on the sofa beside Mrs. Blake.

  “Thank you for thinking of my horse, my lord,” she said quietly. “In all the confusion of packing up my room, I never thought of the animal.”

  “You deserve to have it, for all the reasons you stated. I want you to be comfortable in your new home.”

  “My new home,” she echoed wistfully.

  They both heard footsteps in the entrance hall again. Robert had a flash of Mr. Collins’s speculation, and suddenly he realized he had to make this look good. He pulled off his gloves, and then cupped Mrs. Blake’s face in his hands, leaning close.

  She gasped and whispered, “What are you doing?”

  He felt the warmth of her breath on his mouth, and was startled by how distracting such a simple thing was. “Your brother looked suspicious,” he said. “I believe he means to test us.”

  “But—”

  “Stop talking, or I’ll have to kiss you to keep you quiet.”

  Her eyes went round, her moist lips parted, and suddenly, he wanted to kiss her. She smelled of rose water, and he inhaled as if he could fill his entire being with it. But he held back, knowing he had no plans to marry her, however soft and warm her cheeks felt in his hands, however prettily she blushed.

  “You have the most beautiful eyes,” he murmured, even as he vaguely heard the door open.

  Mrs. Blake jumped back.

  He dropped his hands and glanced to see Mr. Collins enter hesitantly.

  “Forgot my book,” the other man said, reddening. “Forgive me.”

  “Nothing to forgive,” Robert said cheerfully, and waited until the other man took a book from a shelf and left the room. He let out his breath.

  “A book?” Mrs. Blake said dubiously. “Edwin hasn’t read a book since university.”

  “It was a deception to see what we were doing.”

  “I don’t understand . . .”

  Robert smiled at her, but she gave no answering response. He’d never considered how much human interaction had to do with reading the signals from another person’s expression and body. “Your brother—or perhaps your father put him up to it—wonders if something else is going on. Mr. Collins wanted to see if we had any passion when we were alone.”

  Her blush deepened even by candlelight. “But won’t that make him think everything between us is . . . physical? That instead of making logical decisions, my heart is being swayed by . . .”

  When her voice trailed away, he grinned. “By my expert kisses?”

  “Oh please,” she said with skepticism.

  “Passion is a better reason to marry than something as cold-blooded as money or social status—or power.”

  “The first two are already proven wrong where we’re concerned. I have nothing but a small manor to bring to this supposed marriage.” She lowered her voice on “supposed.” “But power? What do you mean?”

  “There are men who want to control everything around them,” he said quietly, thinking of his father. “And a wife should be controlled most of all, because she’s an extension of him.”

  Mrs. Blake pressed her lips together and held herself still for a moment. “You are talking about your parents?”

  “Not really. My mother did as she pleased—but she was very careful to be discreet. My father treated everyone as if they were under his power. Another thing you and I have in common. What about your parents?”

  “You may be surprised, but I think they loved each other. My mother tempered my father’s worst impulses. He was always embarrassed by me, but she made things better. When she died
seven years ago . . . he was not the same man. Then again, none of us were the same. She was my champion, who treated me like a normal girl.”

  “Was Miss Collins jealous of her attention to you?”

  “I . . . maybe she was, and I just never realized.”

  They were still sitting close together on the sofa, their knees brushing. And then Mrs. Blake slid back.

  “My lord—”

  “Call me Robert,” he suddenly said. “No one has done so in years, and I have a sudden yearning to hear my Christian name.”

  “Very well . . . Robert.”

  That was dragged out of her so reluctantly, he almost laughed.

  “You may call me Audrey.”

  “Audrey,” he repeated. “If I say it’s a lovely name, will you blush again? You do it so prettily.”

  She did blush again, but her words were no-nonsense. “No one can see us now, Lord—Robert, so please do not flirt. It is . . . distracting.”

  “I’m to play a part, Audrey. It is difficult to put the fiancé aside, and then remember to be him again.”

  “I may be playing your fiancée, but I expect you to treat me as I want to be treated. Last night I asked you to allow me to handle breaking the news of our engagement to my brother and sister. But you didn’t.”

  “I was trying to be of help,” he said, bemused.

  “I’m not a doll you need to protect. I knew the situation might be bad, and I was prepared to handle it. Next time, please respect my wishes.”

  Had he just assumed he knew what was best for her? That wasn’t gentlemanly of him, and he didn’t like the trait. “I will do my best to agree with your wishes from now on.”

  “You sound sincere, and I appreciate that. Just remember—I can hear when you’re not. People think they’re better at lying than they really are.”

  “How interesting. I will keep it in mind.”

  She rose to her feet. “We leave just after dawn, do we not?”

  “It would be best, considering that a carriage with two extra horses tied behind will have to drive at a slow pace. It will take us near two full days.”

  “Oh, I had not realized,” she murmured, her forehead wrinkled with doubt.

  “You can’t be nervous to be alone with your fiancé,” he teased.

  “I’ll have Molly with me. We’ll be perfectly respectable.”

  But she still looked nervous, and that amused him.

  Audrey ate a simple breakfast as she felt the first touch of the sun’s morning rays on her face. She only nibbled toast and eggs because Molly insisted.

  Strangely, she was almost too nervous to eat. She was leaving the only home she’d ever known, where she knew every piece of furniture, and every person’s distinctive footstep. She was going off into a dark world she couldn’t see, in the hands of a man she’d only just met—Martin’s friend. Shouldn’t she have considered that more closely? she wondered a bit wildly.

  No, he was an earl, a former captain in the Queen’s army. He would not mistreat her. He said he owed her his assistance, because he felt so badly about Martin’s death. She would have to trust in that.

  “There you are,” Robert said.

  “You sound almost relieved,” she answered lightly.

  “I thought someone might have changed your mind.”

  She’d certainly been worried her father might try. But she hadn’t seen him yet this morning.

  “You should eat before our journey,” she told him.

  “I did, since I had to meet the carriage when it was delivered. The footmen are already loading your trunks.”

  “Thank you,” she said, feeling surprised. It was so rare for someone to do things for her, or on her schedule. She had so much to get used to.

  “Audrey?” said her brother as he entered the dining room.

  “I’m still here, Edwin. Please share this last meal with me. Is Father—”

  “No, he’s in his study,” her brother said, “and doesn’t wish to be disturbed.”

  If that was how he wanted it, then fine.

  “I . . . had some things I wished to say to you,” Edwin began, his words awkward. “I was never home much, and I think I was so concerned with myself, I never . . . thought much about you. It was wrong of me, and I ask your forgiveness.”

  Audrey blinked at the sting of tears. Wasn’t this just what she’d wished, to improve relationships with her siblings? It took her leaving to make her brother treat her better, she thought with faint irony.

  “I accepted Father’s certainty that you could never handle the outside world,” Edwin continued, “especially after Blake abandoned you as he did. But that was wrong. I saw how you were with my friends, how—normal everything seemed. Forgive me if that sounds cruel, but I hope you understand what I mean.”

  Robert said, “Collins—”

  “No, Robert,” Audrey said firmly. “It is all right.” She turned toward her brother. “Edwin, I accept your apology, and I want you to know how glad I am for it. When I write to you, I hope you’ll answer.”

  “I will,” he said, relief in his voice. “Now I must go. My friends are just rising and will be departing soon.”

  “Go. Enjoy yourself, Edwin. We will keep in touch.”

  When he’d gone, Audrey turned to Robert. “I know what you might have said, that Edwin’s words couldn’t make up for years of neglect. But I consider his words a good start. And accepting them—forgiving him—is my choice, not yours. Again, you’re trying to do too much for me.”

  “Perhaps you’re assuming too much,” he said. “You didn’t know what I was going to say. Please do me the courtesy of not scolding me unless I need it.”

  The awkward moment felt strange to her, for everything had been so easy between them so far. “Very well, if I was mistaken, then I apologize.”

  “If you were mistaken?” he echoed.

  She couldn’t help but smile ruefully. “Ah, these word games we play. Then I apologize with no conditions attached.”

  “Good. I feel much better. But I want to explain one thing that you should consider. I feel protective toward you as I would toward any woman I had agreed to marry. That is just what men do. Perhaps you’re occasionally being too sensitive.”

  She considered that with astonishment. “I have not experienced protectiveness in a long time, my—Robert. I will consider what you’ve said.”

  “Thank you. Then shall we go?”

  The smile spread so wide across her face, it felt like a flower opening up to the sun. “Yes, oh yes, let us go.”

  In the entrance hall, Molly called, “Miss Audrey, I have your valise and reticule.”

  “Thank you. You didn’t forget your own, did you?”

  The other woman laughed. “No, miss. I have sandwiches in there and your writing paper and a book or two.”

  “I noticed that the footman could barely lift your trunks into the boot,” Robert said.

  “I only took what was necessary,” Audrey insisted. “I am starting a new life, sir. There are things a woman must have.” She was rattling on a bit, and she kept listening for her father’s study door to open, but it didn’t. “Excuse me.” She went to it and knocked, opening it without waiting for a reply. “Father?”

  “I’m busy,” he called in a gruff voice. “Be on your way if you’re going.”

  She lifted her chin. “I’m going. Good-bye, Father.”

  When he said nothing, she closed the door again. Neither Robert nor Molly made a sound. Audrey felt embarrassed more than anything, by how little she meant to her own father. Then the anger set in, as she realized that her success could prove to him that she’d made the right decision. But in the end, what he thought didn’t really matter. He’d treated her like a servant, not a daughter. Let him hire someone else.

  “Good-bye, Mrs. Blake,” said the housekeeper. “Do enjoy your new home.”

  Audrey hadn’t even realized she’d arrived. “Thank you so much for everything, Mrs. Gibbs. And to all the othe
r servants, too.”

  Robert put her hand on his arm. “May I escort you to the carriage?”

  “You may.” She could have done it herself, but it would have taken longer. And she was impressed that he remembered to tell her where the stairs began. People often forgot the most obvious things when dealing with a blind person.

  Outside, the breeze was almost warm, for autumn, and she inhaled deeply. This might be the last time she ever smelled these scents, if her relationship with her family didn’t improve. But she wasn’t going to think that way. Molly told her that the coachman had already lowered the step. Audrey found it, and Robert held her hand as she stepped up inside.

  “Molly,” Robert said, “take the rear seat with your mistress, and I’ll sit across.”

  “Facing backward?” Audrey teased. “How chivalrous.”

  “I do have my moments.”

  She felt a flash of excitement as the door closed, and soon the carriage jerked into motion. “Oh, you have my horse?”

  “Tied to the back, on the opposite corner from mine,” he assured her.

  “Then I’m ready.”

  It was time to head into the unknown.

  Chapter 7

  As the morning went on, Robert kept expecting the carriage ride to grow monotonous, but it never did. He couldn’t stop watching Audrey’s face. Molly would excitedly describe a thatched-roof cottage or a stone bridge, and it was as if he could see the wonder of the world reflected in Audrey’s expression. Molly had obviously spent much of her life in this capacity, and she was good at spotting the tiniest details, from a spotted dog lying beside a child fishing on a riverbank, to the ruins of an old stone wall, “which was surely part of a castle,” Molly would insist. Audrey laughed as if this was a game they’d long played.

  Audrey must have been nervous before the journey, and maybe that was why they’d quarreled, but once on their way she seemed only full of eagerness and excitement—and relief. When he’d mentioned they’d left her village behind, she’d sagged back against the bench and looked almost bewildered.

  “He really let me go,” she’d murmured. “I had feared . . .”

  But her words had trailed off, and he hadn’t pressed for more. He well knew what she feared: a scene, some reason to involve the law. But Robert and his earldom had won the day.