Harlequin Historical July 2020 - Box Set 1 of 2

by Virginia Heath

  ‘Very well, Vincent. I shall be in the library. Please let me know when Lady Fenton is available.’

  * * *

  He lasted half an hour after Robert left the house. The Hall was quiet, the silence weighing down on him as he quit the library. He knew where Kitty’s sitting room was…and there was no sign of Vincent to disapprove of or prevent Adam disturbing his mistress. He climbed the stairs, then hesitated outside the sitting-room door. It was quiet within. He wondered if she was sleeping, but he convinced himself Kitty would want to know of Robert’s plan. He put his ear to the door and heard a faint scratching noise. He pressed the door handle down and eased the door open until the gap was wide enough for his head. Just one peep.

  Kitty sat at a table in front of the window, her back to the door. Not asleep, then, but writing. Letters, he presumed. He tapped on the door. She started. Glanced over her shoulder, her eyes somehow vague, shadowed by low, bunched brows. Then her expression cleared. She coloured, pushed her chair back and leapt to her feet. She stood with her back to the table, which he could now see was littered with dozens of sheets of paper covered in writing.

  Adam frowned. ‘What are ye doing?’

  Her nostrils flared. ‘Waiting for you to tell me why you are here. I left strict instructions I was not to be disturbed.’

  ‘I am aware of it. I assumed you were resting and, had that been the case, I would have quietly withdrawn.’

  ‘What can I do for you, Lord Kelridge?’

  Adam’s brows shot up. ‘Kitty? What is it? Why am I suddenly Lord Kelridge once again? Do ye…are ye…?’ He stopped. Sucked in a deep breath as he recalled her earlier coolness. ‘Kitty. Do ye regret what we did?’

  She stared at him silently for several moments. Then she gave him a rueful smile. ‘I have no regrets.’

  Adam waited for her to elaborate, wondering what was going through her head. What it would mean for him.

  ‘I am sorry for my reaction,’ she went on. ‘You startled me. My mind was…elsewhere.’ She walked towards him. He grabbed the opportunity to look at her table again, but he was no clearer about what she was up to. If she was writing letters, there were a great many of them. Unless…

  ‘Kitty. Are ye writing a novel?’

  ‘And if I am?’

  Adam shook his head. ‘Well…nothing, really. You are entitled to do as ye please. Does Robert know?’

  ‘He does.’

  ‘And he approves?’

  ‘He does not disapprove.’ Her tone suggested that she would not care even if he did.

  ‘Will ye tell me about it?’

  She glanced back at the table, then looked at him. ‘No. I would rather not.’

  She sounded defensive and he recalled their conversation about novels. What had he said? He could not remember, but he hoped he had not given the impression he disapproved of such books. Even though, if he were honest, he thought them a waste of valuable time.

  ‘Now, if you will excuse me, Adam… I have reached a critical point of the story and I do not wish to lose the thread of my narrative. Did you come here for a particular reason?’

  ‘Ah. Yes.’ He hesitated. ‘But it will wait until you have finished writing. I’m sorry to have disturbed ye.’

  Her eyes softened. ‘And—again—I am sorry for my reaction. I tend to get over-involved in my story and my characters are currently in the middle of an argument. The mood can spill over into real life at times, until I have adjusted from my fictional world to the actual world.’

  She tucked her bottom lip between her teeth, looking contrite and far younger than her thirty-two years. Tenderness, spiced with lust, welled up inside Adam. He reached for her hand and raised it to his lips.

  ‘I shall leave you in peace.’

  ‘No. Wait. You wanted to talk to me…have there been any developments?’

  Adam smiled at her. ‘It will wait. We will talk later.’

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  The door clicked shut behind Adam, leaving Kitty staring abstractedly at the space where he had been. Her mind whirled, but she found no solution to her conundrum. Their relationship had changed and, whether she willed it or no, she had opened her heart to more pain. It was inevitable. Adam had spoken no words of love. Neither had he mentioned marriage, but the implication had been there, cutting her to the quick.

  She loved him. She could no longer lie to herself. And that terrified her because nothing could ever come of it. There was Charis to consider. And Robert. And…

  She growled low in her throat as she acknowledged the real reason there could never be a happy ever after for her and Adam. Children. Babies. An heir. She was barren and Adam was now Earl of Kelridge, and all noblemen needed an heir to follow them, to care for their estates and provide security and a living for their tenants and for the many local craftsmen who depended upon a thriving ‘big house’ in their neighbourhood.

  I can think of nothing more delightful than you holding our baby in your arms.

  Those words had flayed her, bringing harsh reality to the fore after she had successfully banished all thought of the future from her mind. And if he were to ask her to marry him, what reason could she give for a refusal? How could she tell him the truth—speak out loud those brutal, final words I am barren—without falling apart in front of him? How could she bear his sympathy or, worse, his pity? And what if he still felt obliged to urge her to marry him, even when he knew the truth? A man such as he might see it as a matter of honour. He might break down her resistance. And he would be stuck in a childless marriage and would come to resent her…blame her.

  And that she could not bear.

  Feeling sick, she turned back to the table. She would lose herself in her work once again and worry about Adam later. But, mere minutes later, she slammed down the quill in frustration, causing ink to fly and speckle the nearby sheets of paper. The magic was lost. Her head was full of Adam. And her heart was full of that pain she had so carefully protected herself from all these years. She pushed back her chair and went in search of Adam.

  * * *

  ‘He has gone to the stables, milady.’

  She recalled his plan to ride out that afternoon. ‘Is Lord Fenton with him?’

  ‘No, milady. His Lordship is driving to…well, he is driving towards London.’

  ‘London?’

  Vincent lowered his voice. ‘His Lordship did confide in me before he left, milady. After the occurrence yesterday, and the letter Lord Kelridge received, His Lordship is determined to track the movement of the Messrs Trewin yesterday. Gresham has gone with him and they hope to ascertain at what times the Kelridge carriage passed through the toll gates. His Lordship did say he may not return tonight and Lord Kelridge would have informed you immediately but—as you instructed me no one was to disturb you—I asked him to wait.’

  ‘I see.’ But Adam had come anyway, knowing she would want to know Robert’s plans. And she’d given him no chance to tell her. ‘Thank you. And Lord Kelridge has gone to the stables, you say? With the intention of riding out, even after what happened yesterday?’

  ‘I did try to reason with him, milady. But he was in no mood to listen.’

  And that is my fault.

  Her first reaction had been dazed, as it always was when she was interrupted in the middle of a scene in which she was fully immersed. But afterwards…she ought to have insisted on knowing why he had interrupted her.

  ‘Very well. Send word to the stables to saddle Herald, will you please? And if His Lordship has not already left, ask him to wait for me to join him. I shall change into my riding clothes right away.’

  ‘Milady… I do not think—’

  Kitty, already on the fourth stair, paused. ‘Vincent. You are not paid to think. Now do as I ask without further ado. Please.’

  The butler executed his stiffest bow before stalking towa
rds the back of the house. Kitty ran upstairs and to her bedchamber to change into her riding gown, her heart pounding with fear.

  * * *

  Within ten minutes, she was clattering down the stairs again. She grabbed her leather riding gloves and crop from a stony-faced Vincent and hurried out of the already open front door. Davey, one of the grooms, waited outside, holding the reins of both Herald, Kitty’s chestnut gelding, and a brown gelding that went by the uninspiring name of Brownie.

  ‘His Lordship left word that one of us must accompany you if you go out, milady.’ Davey touched his cap. ‘On fear of dismissal if we don’t follow his order to the letter.’

  ‘Very well, Davey. I understand.’

  Normally she insisted on riding alone—it gave her imagination the perfect opportunity to wander. But normally there was absolutely no danger. She remained on Fenton land and Robert trusted her to do so. She couldn’t fault such an order after yesterday and it would be unfair to blame Davey for following his master’s instructions.

  The groom cupped his hands to help her mount. As she gathered the reins and settled into the saddle, she said, ‘Had Lord Kelridge already ridden out when my message reached the stables?’

  ‘Yes, milady. About quarter of an hour since.’

  ‘And did anyone accompany him?’

  ‘Yes, milady.’

  Kitty breathed a little easier.

  ‘He told us he would head up to Fenton Edge.’

  ‘Then let us go.’

  They rode at a fast trot, breaking into a canter where they could, and before long they saw two riders ahead of them, heading up a track over the heathland that led to the Edge, an escarpment with views over the relatively flatter land to the north—a view that included Kelridge Place and its parkland. Before long, Adam halted and looked back, presumably alerted by the thud of horses coming up at speed behind him. His hand had already withdrawn a pistol from his pocket and more relief flooded Kitty that he had at least come prepared.

  When they drew to a halt, Adam’s expression was as menacing as yesterday’s thunderclouds. His horse—a piebald gelding called Jester—danced sideways, made skittish by his rider’s clear annoyance.

  ‘Why are ye here?’

  Kitty, somewhat breathless from their fast pace, ignored him to speak to Dexter—Adam’s companion and second in rank to Gresham in the hierarchy of the stable yard.

  ‘Kindly drop back with Davey, will you, Dexter? And stay alert for anyone else in the area.’

  Dexter, a man of few words, nodded and touched his cap. The two grooms held their horses still as Kitty nudged Herald into a walk. Adam, audibly grumbling—although she couldn’t make out his words—followed, ranging his mount alongside hers.

  ‘Why are ye here?’ His demand was quiet, but no less forceful. ‘He could be out there anywhere.’

  ‘Precisely! And I am not his target. Or so we agreed yesterday. Why are you putting yourself at such risk? What do you hope to achieve by this…this act of stu—bravado?’

  ‘Ye shouldna have come.’ His tone milder now. ‘I can look after myself, but you…’

  She glanced up at him. His stern profile as he stared straight ahead. The tightness of his lips and the frown that creased his forehead.

  ‘But I…?’

  His lips quirked then, in a brief smile, and he flicked a sideways look at her before turning his attention once again to their surroundings.

  ‘Ye’re a terrible distraction and ye ken it. How am I meant to concentrate when your scent is weaving through ma senses, firing ma blood?’

  Her heart thumped at his words. As if she wasn’t already hot enough after that ride. ‘Why, Lord Kelridge…’ she strove to keep her tone light ‘… I never imagined that gruff exterior concealed such a poetic soul. You kept that well hidden.’

  He smiled at her. Such a sweet smile. ‘I canna help it, lass. You have that effect on me…ye’re a woman to turn any man inside out.’

  The track they were following up the gentle southern slope of the Edge petered out as they reached the open land at the top. Kitty reined in and twisted to look all around. There was no sign of life other than a few sheep grazing the sparse, coarse grassland on the top. Adam pointed.

  ‘There. That is Kelridge Place. My new home—’ he pointed at a speck in the distance, a light-coloured cube that perched on a rise in the land ‘—and that is the boundary—that woodland. South Kell Wood.’

  Kitty had never been to Kelridge Place even though there was only six miles between it and Fenton Hall.

  ‘Ye canna see it very well at this distance, I ken, but after what Carter told me I felt the need tae come and see it for myself.’

  ‘What did Carter tell you?’

  She’d never even thought to ask him earlier about the steward’s visit and now she listened as Adam told her about the sheep that had been shot and butchered.

  ‘But…is that not good news? Oh, not for the poor sheep, or that they have been stolen from you. But does it not support the theory that poachers shot you by mistake? And is that not better than believing the worst of your uncle and cousin?’

  ‘Well, aye. Of course it is.’

  ‘But I do not understand why Robert has gone haring off after Mr Trewin and Tolly.’

  ‘We need to be certain, Kitty. It is no use our lowering our guard on a supposition. Rob will, I hope, find the evidence to confirm it was impossible for either my uncle or my cousin to have fired that gun. And, in the meantime, he has ordered the men to keep watch and even to patrol the outer reaches of the estate to look out for strangers or for further attempts to steal sheep.’

  ‘That makes sense, I suppose.’

  Kitty stared across to the distant Kelridge Place, the knot of fear in her stomach easing for the first time since the shooting. But she was still burdened—not by fear, but by anxiety. There was still the conundrum of what the future held for her and Adam. She had made matters worse by succumbing to her desires and was unsure how to handle what their relationship was now and what it might become.

  ‘Are you pleased with the turn your life has taken, Adam? Is it what you want?’

  ‘I wasna happy. At first. I admit it.’ He shifted restlessly in the saddle, then dismounted. ‘Will you walk with me?’

  He lifted his arms to Kitty. She put her hands on his shoulders as he grasped her waist and lifted her from the saddle.

  ‘Dexter. You and Davey hold these two, will you?’ she called. ‘His Lordship and I wish to stretch our legs.’

  The grooms rode over and dismounted, taking control of Herald and Jester.

  ‘Lord Fenton said—’

  ‘Have no fear, Dexter,’ Kitty interrupted the groom’s concern. ‘We will not go out of your sight. I promise. And we will remain alert.’

  She laid her hand on Adam’s arm and they strolled across to the edge of the escarpment.

  ‘I adore this view,’ Kitty said. ‘I love that you can see for miles. It is worth the climb just to enjoy it.’

  Adam tipped his head to one side and eyed her as he laughed.

  ‘Why is that so funny?’

  ‘It is clear you havena travelled over-much, Kitty, my love.’

  Her heart clenched at the endearment. She could never be his love—not fully, not legitimately—even if he meant it.

  ‘I have been to London. I know that must seem nothing to you, but I love my home and my family. I have never looked to travel away from them.’

  ‘I didna mean that. I laughed at your calling this a climb. This, dearest Kitty, is but a pimple compared with the hills and mountains of the north.’ He paused. ‘And of bonnie Scotland,’ he added in a wistful tone.

  ‘So you do have regrets about the change in your life?’

  ‘Some.’ His arm flexed, squeezing her hand into his side. ‘But they become less important by t
he day.’

  He halted, capturing her gaze with his, raising a quiver of awareness as she recognised the fire smouldering in his blue eyes. She tugged his arm to keep him moving. ‘Do not forget we are being watched.’

  They strolled on, their pace slow, their eyes on the view, their attention on one another.

  ‘I should like you to see Scotland, Kitty. The rugged mountains and glens of the Highlands. Edinburgh, with its castle towering over the city. The rolling hills and lochs of the Lowlands and the border country.’

  ‘I have seen paintings and illustrations. It does look magnificent.’

  ‘Aye, it is. But ye canna fully comprehend just how magnificent without seeing it with your own eyes, breathing the scent of the heather and feeling the caress of the air over your skin.’

  That wistfulness was even more evident. Robert had speculated that Adam might not be content to make Kelridge Place his permanent home…that he had spoken of returning to Edinburgh and leaving his steward in charge of his estates. But Kitty had no wish to remind him of that, so she resolved to lead his thoughts away from Scotland and any homesickness. There might be no chance of marriage between them but, if he made his home at Kelridge Place, she would at least still meet him on occasion.

  They might even have an affaire. They would have to be discreet. No one could know. She could not risk any hint of scandal tainting either Charis or Rob, but she was a widow, after all, and widows were allowed a certain amount of licence. A thrill ran through her, raising gooseflesh.

  ‘Vincent said Robert might not return home tonight.’

  ‘That is true. It depends, I would think, on how quickly he can establish whether or not my kinsmen could have been at Fenton Hall yesterday afternoon at the time I was shot.’

  Is it so wrong that I hope Rob will be forced to spend the night away from home?

  She ought to feel ashamed…shocked…by such a hope. But she did not.

  ‘I suppose,’ Adam said, slowly, ‘we shall have to amuse ourselves if he does not come home.’