She noted he had stopped behind her. She glanced over her shoulder as she continued up the stairs.
“I have some papers to go over in my study. I shall see you on the morrow. Once your sister and companion have arrived, I will accompany you into Brentwood Forest, as I know it very well. It is easy to get lost. I don’t think it’s a good idea to go into the woods on your own, so I shall ensure a groom is with you at all times.”
“Thank you. That would be most appreciated. I’m hoping that it won’t take me too long to find the plant. Then of course I have to hope it flowers. Then draw it.”
He studied her for a moment. “You really are very excited about this orchid. Why is that? Help me understand.”
She did not have to pretend where the orchid was concerned but her face flushed at having to admit her lowly situation. “To be the first illustrator to find and draw the Ghost Orchid will mean my name will be known throughout England and perhaps farther afield even. It will make Lady Calthorpe very happy and will likely secure my future position. Or I may get a better offer from another benefactor.”
“I beg your pardon for the insensitive question, but a woman such as you, with your beauty and intelligence, would make a man a very suitable wife. I’m sure that would offer you the best security.”
The idea had entered her mind on many occasions, and she’d almost married once but her fiancé had died from lockjaw, and then there was Dora. “Your opinion of my intelligence will likely be changed when I say I would prefer to manage on my own unless I find a man I can admire and who stirs my heart.”
Softly he uttered, “It does not change my opinion of your intelligence. It merely makes me admire you more. Most people look for the easiest option in life.”
She looked away from his heated gaze. “The easiest options often do not make us happy.”
“Very true. I hope the estate can deliver all you require.”
With that he turned and entered his study, closing the door softly behind him.
A yawn escaped, or maybe it was simply the breath she had been holding tight in her chest. The earl was not at all as she’d thought. She’d seen the look of longing in his eyes when she’d mentioned “stirs my heart.” He was a gentle soul with sad eyes. She wondered if the war still haunted him—silly, how could it not?
She liked him and that was dangerous.
Walking back to her room she knew she’d had a lucky escape tonight. She shuddered to think what would happen to her and Dora if she had been caught. If her reputation became tarnished, who would employ her? She could not let herself feel sorry for this man.
* * *
—
Guy closed the door, deep in thought. The idea that Miss Pinehurst was up to nefarious activities late at night in his house sounded ridiculous. Yet, he could not get rid of the idea that if he had not followed her, this study had been her intended destination. She had plenty of interesting books in her room. Why risk going exploring in the darkened house if you simply wanted a book to put you to sleep? Especially if she was as tired as she’d proclaimed—and looked—earlier.
She had clearly been frightened by his presence—but then, he was naked apart from his robe. She could not hide her distress when her hand touched his chest, and she seemed very wary of him. He could tell she did not wish to come near him. She was scared even. Had someone hurt her in the past?
The idea that someone may have mistreated her sent a fireball of anger storming through his veins. Perhaps it was his experiences in war zones. He knew how unprotected woman were treated, and a beautiful one…well, she would have been much in demand.
It shamed him to acknowledge that occasionally he wished he were back in the army. In the army he’d managed to keep his secret safe. No one looked too closely at him. As the Earl of Argyle it would be a constant battle to keep his inability to read private. For the rest of his life he would be constantly fearful of exposure.
He’d known becoming the Earl of Argyle would not be easy but he had no idea how Reginald had shouldered all the burdens on a daily basis. The decisions that had to be constantly made drove him mad. At least in the army he’d had only one objective—to keep his men alive while defeating the enemy.
He gave a deep chuckle in the empty room. The threat his cousin posed was turning him paranoid. He sat in the dark. He didn’t need any light as he could not read the papers in front of him anyway, and he’d memorized the order in which they sat. He could not help but think Patrick’s visit was not a good idea, but how could he continue to fob his cousin off? At least they had a backup plan. If Patrick stayed longer than a week, Guy and Kit would leave to answer an urgent summons from London. He hated the idea of a retreat but he’d faced many enemies and learned the goal was not necessarily to win each battle but above all else to win the war. For one fleeting moment he wondered if it would be better to let Patrick become the trustee, or perhaps preempt his cousin and appoint a trustee he could trust. His friend Stephen Hornsby, the Marquess of Clevedon, would be his first pick, but he’d just learned he was going blind.
He had to shake his head at the irony. One of them could not read and one would soon not be able to see. There was always Alexander Bracken, the Duke of Bedford, but he was so busy with his several large estates. Perhaps Alex could recommend someone who could be trusted.
“Yes, you cretin. Hand the estate over to someone before you ruin us all. You should be locked away like the devil’s spawn you are. You can’t possibly be my son—and you could not learn to read and write even when I tried to beat it into you.”
It was as if his father were in his study with him instead of only in his head. But it was just what he needed. He’d show his father. He stood up and decided to go back to bed. He needed to be alert and have his wits about him if he was to outsmart his cousin.
As he closed his study door behind him he vowed he would prove his father and cousin wrong. With Kit by his side there was nothing he could not do.
* * *
—
It was the sound of arguing outside his bedchamber that woke Guy the next morning. He rolled over on a groan as he heard his mother’s voice and knew she was arguing with Kit. He was likely trying to keep her out. Kit knew Guy was tired.
Before he could arise, the door was flung open and his mother flounced in. “Good morning, my dear.” She moved to the window and pulled the drapes. “The sun is finally shining and I have already met our charming guest, Miss Pinehurst. I sent Brodie to collect her companions and they should be here shortly.” She turned to face him. “So, I want you up and dressed. You shall escort Abigail and me to Brentwood Forest before you ensconce yourself in that stuffy study.”
He rose up on one elbow. “Good morning, Mother. I have already informed Miss Pinehurst I would accompany her, so why this little visit?”
His mother fluttered round the room, pretending to straighten items on the mantel, on his chest of draws, etc. Something was bothering her.
“Perhaps I just wanted to see my only son.”
She used the words “only son” whenever she wanted Guy to do something she knew he would not wish to do.
“What are you up to, Mother?”
She came and sat on the edge of his bed and brushed his fringe out of his eyes. It reminded him of the times she would risk his father’s wrath and crawl into the cupboard under the stairs, where he was being imprisoned as punishment for not reading, and cuddle him close, stroking his hair to comfort him. The first time his mother had protested her husband’s treatment of his son, she had been dragged to her room screaming and locked away there. It was only years later that she confessed his father had threatened to send Guy to an asylum unless she left his treatment to him.
When Guy’s father died, his mother tried to make up for his past by showering him with affection, and God help him he loved her for it.
“I know you and Kit are busy dealing with cousin Patrick’s visit, but I would really like you to work your charm on Miss Abigail Pineh
urst.”
His mouth dropped open. She could not mean…
“Oh, dear, no. I know I’ve been harping on about you getting married, but not to the likes of her. Goodness no. I just thought that with the orchid being found on our land, why can’t I be Miss Pinehurst’s benefactor? I want you to help me persuade her to work for me.”
He smiled at his mother. “I did not realize you were so interested in plants.”
She stuck her nose in the air at his teasing. “I need something to do now Martha is married and no longer living here. You and Kit are so busy with the estate and business. I’m lonely. Until you marry, that is.”
He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Is this your way of telling me I am an inattentive son?”
She smiled and shook her head. “No. I know you have a lot to handle and I would prefer you to deal with Patrick once and for all.”
“So, you like Miss Pinehurst.”
She nodded. “I think you need to help me persuade her to let me become her benefactor.”
“And once the orchid is done and gone, what would you give her to do?”
“Why, anything she wanted. She could go and explore the world and find new plants. I could get to name them,” she added excitedly.
He sighed. “Mother, if you want her I suspect all you’d have to do is offer her more money than Lady Calthorpe.”
She jumped up. “Really? We do have plenty of money, don’t we.”
“Yes, Reginald did a wonderful job.”
Her smiled died. “As will you, Guy. In many ways, you are just as intelligent as Reginald. I have utmost faith in you.”
He hoped her trust was not misplaced. “The day is progressing, Mother. Why don’t you go and organize Cook and I’ll dress and join you in the dining room.”
She made her way to the door. “Oh, and by the way, I have invited Miss Platt and Lady Margaret for supper on Thursday. The ladies are cousins and Lady Margaret is visiting with her uncle, Viscount Newton. It’s only right to be neighborly.”
He let out a groan. This is what she’d wanted all along. He began to sit up, “Now, Mother, I have told you before…” but she was gone, the door closing with a sharp snip. “Goddamn it to hell.” The last thing he needed on top of everything else was his mother trying to matchmake.
Viscount Newton’s daughter, Miss Platt, was a nice enough young lady; he could not remember if he’d met Lady Margaret, her cousin. But the idea of rushing into marriage when he had to establish himself in his role as the Earl of Argyle was definitely not high on his list of priorities. Although given his underhanded cousin, maybe it should be.
He flopped back down on the bed and wished for the hundredth, millionth time that Reginald were still alive.
* * *
—
He’d enjoyed a quick breakfast with his mother and then the outdoors had called. A good gallop cleared his head.
Guy almost ran up the steps to the house after his ride. The sun was finally shining after all the rain and he’d enjoyed giving Bolton, his stallion, his head, racing over the estate. Bolton had been difficult to control because he’d not been out of the stable for over two days, and Guy loved their battle for dominance. The exhilaration of the ride had somewhat helped ease the worry about Patrick’s visit.
For over a month he had been working with Kit memorizing the account ledgers and correspondence. It was fortunate he had such a good memory. It had only taken six months of whippings from his father, and nights locked in the cellar, to teach him that when Reginald and his tutor read him the lessons, he must remember them. For that is how he had been able to fool his father into thinking he had finally learned to read.
His cousin was due to arrive any day now, and Guy still wanted to go over the ledgers with Kit one last time. As he made his way toward the study, the sound of his mother laughing penetrated the air.
His mother had not laughed like this since Reginald’s death. She was far too aware of Guy’s deficiencies, and was worried about the fact that Patrick might try to wrestle control of the estate from her only remaining son. With Patrick’s known gambling addiction, she was sure the estate would be run dry fairly quickly and their livelihoods would be at stake.
For if Patrick was made trustee of the estate, he would have every right to put in his own man of business and Guy and his mother would likely be blind to Patrick’s spending until it was too late.
Instead of going to the study he made his way toward the laughter in the drawing room. As he entered his eyes landed on the reason for his mother’s gaiety. Miss Pinehurst was conversing with her over a cup of tea.
“Guy, my darling boy. Miss Pinehurst was regaling me with her encounter with a stag in the wilds of Scotland. It is most fascinating and I envy the young ladies of today—you have the opportunity to travel more than we ever did.”
“She shared some of her stories with us last night, Mother.” Guy was pretty sure that ladies of his mother’s ilk would still not be permitted the freedom of travel that Miss Pinehurst enjoyed.
Guy smiled at the beauty sitting across from his mother, his body very aware of her as a woman. Her eyes locked with his and he saw interest there. His body stirred in a most inappropriate place considering his mother was present. He moved to stand behind a large chair.
This morning Miss Pinehurst’s luscious fair-colored hair was pinned up in a tight knot upon her head. The style would look severe on most ladies but it simply highlighted her cheekbones and the length of her slim neck. She was again wearing what he assumed was one of his sister’s gowns and for a brief second he forgot she was not a true lady. As her smile widened, for one moment he really didn’t care who she was. He could hardly hold status over anyone, given he was a fraud too.
He wondered if during her stay she would be interested in an affair. She wasn’t too young, perhaps not much younger than his thirty-one years, he’d guess, and the look they had shared spoke of a lack of innocence. Suddenly he wished Patrick was not coming for another reason altogether. He wanted Miss Pinehurst to himself. He could spend more time with the lovely Miss Pinehurst instead of warding off his cousin’s snooping, and those tantalizing skirt pants she was wearing last night enthralled him.
“I was just telling Miss Pinehurst that the day after one of my headaches, it’s not good for me to overexert myself. I suggested that you might escort her to Brentwood Forest without me. I was explaining that you spent most of your childhood in that forest. If anyone can ensure she won’t get lost, it would be you.”
Guy gritted his teeth. What on earth was his mother up to? Only a few hours ago she was all set to accompany them, reminding him that Miss Pinehurst was not for the likes of him. While his body flared at the idea of being alone in the beautiful woman’s company, he did not like that his mother was being manipulative.
“Has your sister and your luggage arrived from Little Walden? I suspect you’d rather wait for your luggage before we go exploring.”
Miss Pinehurst bestowed a stunning smile upon him. “Thank you. I can’t really explore in such a lovely gown.” She looked down. “It is far too beautiful to ruin on tree branches and dirt.”
Guy’s sudden thought was the gown was made more beautiful because she was wearing it. “Perhaps I can show you over the estate and Brentwood Forest once your luggage has arrived? Shall we say mid-afternoon?”
“That would be perfect; thank you, my lord.”
His mother clapped her hands together. “Wonderful. I was hoping that if you did find the Ghost Orchid, you might bring one of the plants back for my greenhouse.”
Miss Pinehurst’s smile dimmed a little. “I could certainly try, but I’m not sure they like too sunny a position, and certainly the greenhouse may be far too warm for it. It likes the shade of the oak trees. I did notice there is an oak at the end of your rose garden. We could perhaps plant one there.”
“Splendid. I enjoy a stroll in the rose garden, and I could show it off to Mrs. Pringle when she visi
ts. She has a beautiful garden, but she will never have a Ghost Orchid,” his mother said, smiling triumphantly.
Her smile died when Miss Pinehurst turned to him and said, “Perhaps until my luggage arrives you could direct me to the library? I have some questions.”
His mother fumbled her teacup and threw him a desperate look.
Chapter 6
Before Miss Pinehurst could see, he gave his mother a warning frown. “Certainly. I can escort you on the way to my study.”
Miss Pinehurst put down her teacup and thanked his mother for her company, before he indicated she should precede him from the room. His mother winked at him as he pressed a kiss to her cheek. What was she playing at? He was the only son, she kept reminding him. Perhaps his mother thought a woman of lower social standing would be a better match, given his affliction. It was likely Miss Pinehurst would be more grateful for such a good marriage, and stand beside him. Maybe she would not care he was an imbecile who could not read.
Guy knew his mother was just as terrified of something happening to him and then she’d be left in the hands of Patrick. But Guy had willed that she be given a very large bequeath, and made Kit the trustee, so that should something happen to him, she would not need to trust their dear cousin.
“It’s so nice that her ladyship is a plant enthusiast.”
Guy almost missed the fact that Abigail had spoken, as he was too busy watching her swaying hips in front of him. He only just replied before she noticed. “I think plants calm my mother. My father was not an easy man to live with.” That was an understatement.
“Your brother on the other hand was quite the book collector. I’m excited to see his first editions.” When Guy said nothing she suddenly stopped, and turned to him. “Please forgive me. It must pain you to hear me talk about your brother.”
Attracted to the Earl Page 4
