Sailing straight past her room and Isobelas, she went to the open door of the nursery, and for the first time since leaving the house party, she smiled.
Oh, yes, this is what shead neededa"to see her twenty-two-month-old nephew fast asleep on his bed. George slept on his belly, with one arm caught under his chest and the other bent so that his fingers covered his face like a mask. Head scooted down on the mattress, his head a solid foot from his pillow.
She ignored the urge to pick him up, straighten him out, and set him back on the pillow. Head only wiggle back to where he was now.
Instead, she padded softly across the room and leaned over his sleeping form, soaking in the details of his facea" the long lashes against pink, round cheeks; the rosebud mouth and small, crescent scar from a lost battle with the corner of a windowsill. She brushed a hand over his soft curls, so blond they were almost ivory now, but they would darken with age, as they had for all the Ward children.
Bending down, she placed a kiss at his temple, and though she knew it was silly, she took a moment to breathe him in. There was no reason why he should smell different than her and Isobel. They lived in the same house, used the same soap, slept on the same linens. And yet . . . She breathed him in again. And yet there was something unique about him, something distinctively sweeter.
She straightened with a sigh.
This was why it was so important she make the right decisions. This was why she could not afford to make the wrong ones.
This was why she would marry a man she did not love.
Chapter 11.
Adelaide wrote the letter that very night but held off sending it the next day. Her reasons were varied but stemmed in part from the late-arising notion that it might be prudent to accept one offera"thereby authenticating its veracitya"before rejecting the other. She rather thought ruination would be preferable to a marriage to Sir Robert, but her preferences came second to the needs of her family. The othera"and possibly most influentiala"reason for delaying the letter was fear of Sir Robert reappearing on her doorstep to protest the rejection in person.
She had a day or two yet before he would call again. Shead send the letter tomorrow, or possibly the day after ifa"
aAre you constructing a sack?a Adelaide pulled herself from her musings at the sound of Isobelas voice. They were sharing the broad window seat in the parlor, a sewing kit squeezed between them.
Though shead used it as an excuse with Sir Robert, in truth, there was a great deal that needed her attention at home. And when Mrs. McFee had offered to take George for the morning, she and Isobel had taken advantage of the resulting quiet to fit in a spot of darning.
Isobel was down to four usable gowns. Adelaide was down to five, including the ball gown she hoped to sell and the blue dress she was wearing now.
Isobel set down a chemise and pointed to the gown Adelaide was holding. aYouare sewing the hems together.a Adelaide looked down at the mess shead made of her work. aOh, dear.a aOnly a st.i.tch or two.a Isobel handed her the st.i.tch ripper and turned to look out the window. aThereas a stranger coming down the drive in a phaeton.a Adelaide glanced over her shoulder then quickly vacated her seat. aThat is Mr. Brice.a aIs it?a Suddenly fascinated with the view, Isobel set her darning aside without looking and squinted through the gla.s.s. aI canat make him out as yet. But itas a new phaeton. Quite stylish.a aI donat wish to see him this morning.a She needed more time, just a few more hours to collect her thoughts, decide on a course of action, figure through . . . Oh, very well, she wanted a few more hours with her pride. aWould you send him away, please, Isobel? Tell him Iall be in this afternoon.a Isobel shrugged, pulled herself away from the window, and headed for the foyer. Accepting that as a yes, Adelaide followed her to the parlor doors and closed them behind her. She grimaced as the warped wood sc.r.a.ped loudly against the floor. The parlor doors had remained open for the last six months for that very reason. And because she hadnat the foggiest notion of how to fix the problem.
After considering and rejecting the idea of listening through the keyhole, she crossed the room and took a seat on the settee. She sat back against the cushions, then quickly righted herself again when the ancient wood frame groaned ominouslya"a new and unwelcomed sign of deterioration.
Oh, what she wouldnat give to go back fifteen years and tell her parents, no, she did not wish to learn how to paint and play the pianoforte. She would learn carpentry, estate management, and how to navigate a stock exchange. How different her life would be now.
She rolled her eyes at that bit of foolishness. One could not go back. And even if one could, one would probably be better served by going back a few weeks, declining an invitation to a certain house party, and making a bid for the carpenteras son.
Harold Autry hadnat the funds to pay her brotheras debts, but at least her furniture wouldnat squeak.
Adelaide looked over at the m.u.f.fled sound of Connoras voice coming from the foyera"then Isobelas, Connoras again, and then a long pause.
At length, a sliver of Isobelas slippered feet appeared beneath one of the parlor doors. The handle turned and the door gave way slowly and with a great deal of noise. Isobel squeezed inside the meager two feet she was able to access.
aMr. Brice to see you, Adelaide.a Exasperated, Adelaide beckoned her inside with her hand and waited for Isobel to cross the room.
aI know Mr. Brice is here to see me,a she whispered, flicking a glance at the open door. She shouldnat care if Connor overheard them, but the good manners that had been drilled in since birth were not easy to ignore. Especially when a young lady was sitting upon her grandmotheras settee. aI thought you were going to send him away.a aI shall if you insista"a Isobel began in a normal voice.
aShh!a aOh, for pityas sake.a Isobel marched back to the parlor door, shoved it closed with two hard swings of her hip, then marched back again.
aI shall send him away if you insist,a she repeated. aBut firsta"I am to inform you that a faade of willingness to be courted might very well turn public opinion away from pity and condemnation.a Suddenly, she didnat much care if Connor could hear them. aI cannot fathom by what ridiculous twist of logica"a aHeas quite right, actually.a Adelaide slumped in her seat, ignoring the seatas loud complaint. aEt tu, Isobel?a aSet your anger aside a moment and think,a Isobel urged. aUpholding your innocence in this may not serve you in the long run. Certainly not if you have any intention of marrying Mr. Brice. In the eyes of society, youare either a victim or a woman of loose morals, and youall never be anything else. Unless, of course, you had meant to meet him in the garden. If the two of you had been holding a clandestine courtship that you always intended to bring to lighta"and to the altara"then you are no longer a tragic figure, buta"a aMerely a woman of loose morals,a Adelaide muttered.
aA woman swept away by the dark thrill of a secret romance,a Isobel corrected. aThe ladies will still tsk behind your back, but their tongues will taste of envy.a aThat is quite an image.a aIsnat it just?a aSmears a bit when one takes into consideration I might not marry Mr. Brice.a Shead decided to, but Isobel wasnat aware of it. Adelaide thought it best to wait until the particulars were settled before making any sort of announcement.
aI think you should,a Isobel said. aHe is prodigiously handsome.a Adelaide gave her a bland look. aAn agreeable countenance is not a sensible reason for marriage.a aLove is the only sensible reason for marriage. But as thatas not an option for you at present, you might as well take the next best thing.a Isobel shrugged. aEntirely up to you, of course.a Her sister would choose now, of all times, to attempt a bit of pragmatism. aOh, very well. Let him in.a aExcellent.a Isobel bobbed once on her toes in a disgustingly chipper manner then strode back to the parlor doors. She looked at them, sighed, and began the process of wrenching them open. aWe should just remove the b.l.o.o.d.y things,a she muttered.
Adelaide opened her mouth to berate Isobel for swearing, then snapped it shut again when Connoras large hand appeared in the meager s.p.a.ce Isobel had managed to create.
aIf you would back away, Miss Ward . . .a Isobel did as suggested, crossing the room to stand next to Adelaide. A moment later, both doors flew open with an angry shriek of old wood and rusted hinges. Adelaide jumped at the sound and sight, half expecting the doors to explode into splinters under the strain.
Still intact, they came to a screeching, shuttering stop to reveal the foyer, and Connor Brice standing in the doorway with his legs braced apart. He wore tan breeches, a green coat several shades darker than his eyes, and a smile. That smile. The terrible, beautiful, inviting smile that had been the start of her undoing.
aYour sister is right,a he announced. aYou should remove the doors.a She curtsied out of habit, and, admittedly, a little out of the pleasure to be had in spiting his attempt at familiarity. aGood morning, Mr. Brice. My sister and I are grateful for your a.s.sistance and shall take your advice under advis.e.m.e.nt.a If he was put off by her cool tone, it didnat show. aIt was my pleasure to offer both.a Brushing off his coat, he stepped into the room. A floorboard in need of replacing groaned under the weight of his large frame. Adelaide wished the house would finally make good on one of its threats and the floorboard would buckle. It would be immensely satisfying to see Connor Brice take a tumble.
It was a childish and petty wish, but she didnat much care. She had to marry the blighter; she didnat have to like him. She didnat even have to be nice to him.
Sadly, the floor held. Fortunately, another possibility occurred to her.
aWonat you have a seat?a she offered, gesturing to the cherrywood chair before the settee. She threw a hard look at Isobel, warning her to say nothing.
No one sat in the cherrywood chair. There was no one left alive who could even remember someone having ever sat in the cherrywood chair. It had been rickety and unpredictable when shead been a child, anda"spared from the woodpile for sentimental reasons of unknown origina"consigned to the attic as a result. Its entire purpose now was to provide a surface on which to place a book, or Georgeas spoon, or anything else that was lightweight and st.u.r.dy enough to survive the likely event of the chair giving out.
But if Connor insisted on staying . . .
He eyed the chair dubiously. aIall stand. Thank you.a Blast.
Stifling a sigh, she gave up the hope of seeing Connor tumble. It was tempting to think of another trapa"heaven knew, the possibilities in her home were endlessa"but theyad never get around to the business at hand that way. And she very much wanted to get to the business at hand, and Connor out of her home, as quickly as possible.
aWhat may I do for you, Mr. Brice?a aYou may grant me the pleasure of a few hours of your time. I thought perhaps a drive.a aIt is a lovely day for it,a Isobel chimed before Adelaide could speak.
aI havenat a chaperone.a aI have a phaeton.a He gestured to the window to where the open-air vehicle was waiting in the drive. aAn acceptable conveyance of courtship, I believe. Shall we, Miss Ward?a She couldnat see that she had any choice. There would be no time to stroke her pride before bidding it a fond farewell. Shead have to lay it at Connoras feet just as it was and hope there was something left of it when he was through.
aA short drive,a she relented and headed for the foyer in search of her bonnet. aI want to return before George.a She wanted a readily available excuse to return to the house should a hasty retreat become necessary.
Isobelas voice trilled cheerfully at her back. aIall see to George. No need to rush.a Adelaide crammed the bonnet on her head and spoke around a jaw clamped tight with frustration. aThank you, Isobel.a aYouare welcome. Do enjoy yourselves.a Unable to form a response, Adelaide swept past a smirking Connor and out the front door into the bright light of midday. Connor followed, closing the door behind them. He placed a gentle hand at the small of her back and ushered her toward the phaeton.
Attempting to ignore the warmth of his touch through her gown, Adelaide concentrated on the vehicle. Isobel was right; it was new, without a rough spot of wood or visible scratch on the black and gold paint.
aIs this yours?a she asked.
He nodded and a.s.sisted her onto the seat. aI had it commissioned upon my return to Scotland. What do you think?a aI think youare dissembling,a she replied smartly. aYour a.s.sets were seized by the courts.a He came himself onto the bench beside her. aYouave been asking about me.a aI heard a rumor.a aThereas truth to it,a he confirmed. aAs my elder brother, Sir Robert was allowed to take guardianship of my fortune during my imprisonment.a She thought that grossly unfair, as Sir Robert had been his accuser, but she felt no particular desire to express her sympathies to Connor. aThen how did you purchase this phaeton?a aIt was commissioned before my arrest.a He started the horses off with a light flick of the reins. aSir Robert wasnat given the bulk of my fortune, at any rate. Just a small part of the whole.a aYou had funds hidden away,a she guessed.
aI did.a He smiled a little. aSir Robert was aware of it, but he could never prove it.a aWere you given the rest back on your release?a aPhysical properties were returned to me intact. Head not been allowed to sell them. As for the rest, I was given what remaineda"all fourteen pounds.a She grimaced, all too familiar with the frustration of watching another fritter away the family fortune and being helpless to stop him.
aWas it a great deal of money?a aDepends on your definition of a great deal. It was enough.a He deftly steered them around a pothole. aYou visited your brother.a It took a moment for her mind to wrap around the sudden change of subject. aHave you been spying on me?a He had a roundabout way of denying the accusation. aI inferred from your willingness . . . more or less . . . to join me on this drive that you are no longer laboring under the impression I am a liar.a aOh, I labora"a aAllow me to rephrase. I inferred that your brother admitted to Sir Robertas role in his imprisonment.a Because he sounded too smug by half, she sniffed and replied in her finest youare-not-so-clever-as-you-imagine tone, aSir Robert admitted to it.a He brought the horses to an abrupt stop and pivoted in his seat to pin her with a cold stare. Evidently, he was not impressed with her tone.
aYou confronted Sir Robert?a His voice was no less chilling for its softness, and his anger was no less palpable. The eerie stillness of his large frame spoke of a fury carefully tethered. She suspected it would be an awful sight to see that tether snap. And yet, she wasnat at all frightened. She wasnat nervous as she had been in the presence of Sir Robertas temper. Certainly, it was discomfiting to be the object of such an imposing glare, but she didnat feel threatened, or even particularly intimidated.
No, he didnat make her uncomfortable in the way Sir Robert did. But he made her uncomfortable in every other way.
aNaturally, I did,a she replied with what she hoped was equal composure. aDid you expect me to condemn the man without giving him an opportunity to defend himself?a aI expected you to have the good sense to keep your distance from the rotter.a His eyes narrowed. aYou wonat see him again.a He attempted to round off this insulting and ridiculous bit of nonsense by returning his attention to the road, effectively dismissing her. As if the topic were closed. As if her own feelings mattered not a wit.
He lifted the reins.
She reached over and s.n.a.t.c.hed the right one out of his hand. aYou will not dictate to me, Mr. Brice. If I should fancy another visit with Sir Robert, Iall have it.a She didnat fancy another visit, but that was not the point.
He turned back to her, slower this time, and held his hand out for the rein. aThatas dangerous, la.s.s.a Having never before ridden in a phaeton, let alone driven one, she had no idea if that was true. But it didnat seem the sort of thing she ought to take a chance on. Feeling a bit foolish, she handed him the rein, and then a good piece of her mind.
aIf you start this vehicle again, I shall have to insist you return me to my sister. Iall not be spoken to like a child, or as if our marriage was a foregone conclusion.a His lips twitched as he settled the reins in his lap. aBut youall adhere to your husbandas dictates after marriage?a She gave him a taunting little smile, and a lie. aYouare not in a likely position to ever know.a aAnd Sir Robert is?a He shook his head, clearly not believing the lie. aSir Robert is responsible for your brotherasa"a aHe had his reasons,a she cut in. Those reasons were unacceptable to her, but that, too, was not the point.
Connor lifted one very arrogant, very irritating brow. aI should very much like to hear them.a aYes.a She shifted in her seat and returned his leveled stare with one of her own. aI imagine you would.a What followed was an exceedingly long silence accompanied by what could only be described as a childish battle of stares. Adelaide had never before considered herself to be of an obstinate naturea"not an excessively obstinate nature, anywaya"but shead always known herself to be honest. And she could honestly say they were both being stubborn as a pair of mules. She was not, however, willing to admit they both had equal cause for such ridiculous behavior. Connor Brice was not her father, not her husband, and not her brother. If he thought himself due an explanation, he was sadly mistaken.
She rather hoped his error occurred to him soon. A contest of wills was a bit less comfortable than she might have imagined. She was twisted awkwardly at the waist, and an itch on her ankle that shead been vaguely aware of during their short trip suddenly sprung to life, demanding her attention.
She tried rubbing her other foot against it, but the soft leather of her slippers acted like a breeze against a bug bite. The itching intensified. She tried shifting ever so slightly on the seat, but not only did that fail to alleviate the itch, it succeeded in positioning her so that a stream of sunlight broke through a small crack in the weave of her old bonnet and landed directly on her left eye. Now she was itching and squinting.
Oh, blast. This was dreadful.
Worse, she could see the growing light of humor on Connoras face.
Infinitely worse, she felt a matching spark of amus.e.m.e.nt.
Dear heavens, what sort of husband and wife were they going to make? He with no care for her, she with visions of torment for him, and the both of them impossibly stubborn.
aGo on and scratch, Adelaide. Iall try not to think the less of you for it.a She caveda"but only, mind you, because he gave in firsta"and reached down and ran her fingers over the offending spot. It felt like heaven. aWhat is said between Sir Robert and myself is none of your concern.a aOn the contrary, the actions of my future wife are very mucha"a aI have not agreed to marry you.a aYou canat still be considering Sir Robert.a aI am considering all of my options,a she hedged, not quite ready to hand Connor his victory.
aHe must have been very convincing in his excuses.a aSir Robert is a most eloquent man.a Connoras response to this was to glare a moment longer, which she found quite gratifying, then turn to the road and start the horses moving again with a flick of the reins.
Little was said for the next five minutes, but Adelaide snuck the odd glance at Connor. She wanted to ask him what else he knew of Sir Robert. Were there other secrets? Had the baron entangled himself in other aspects of her life? But it seemed inappropriate to question one suitor about another. More important, it was impractical, as neither was apt to be a reliable source of information.
Chapter 12.
Connor steered the phaeton onto a narrow road Adelaide knew well. It led north to the prison and the town of Enscrum beyond. But well before the prison, and the town, was Ashbury Hall, a vast estate that had been built by an eccentric and reclusive merchant more than three decades ago and abandoned a mere five years after completion when the merchant decided head rather be a recluse in a more hospitable climate.
The house and grounds, now fallen into disrepair, were little more than a mile from her home. As a child, shead often snuck away to play in the overgrown garden and brave peeks through the windows with Wolfgang.
A year ago, shead heard Ashbury Hall had been sold at last, and work had begun on restoring it to its former glory. The renovations had ceased abruptly for months and had resumed again a few weeks past. As they drew near, Adelaide saw that the stone manor had been washed and its wood trim sc.r.a.ped of old paint. But some of the windows remained boarded, the bare wood looked sad and weathered, and the grounds . . . Dear heavens, the grounds. They were a veritable jungle. Weeds of every variety stood knee to neck high, and a number of plants had escaped the gardens and looked to be making a dash for England.
She shook her head and was about to comment on the state of Ashburyas front lawn when Connor turned into the drive.
aWhat are we doing here?a The point of taking the drive had been to be seen together, a task that could have been better attended to by making a quick trip into the local village of Banfries.
Connor slowed the horses. aWe are choosing a house.a aA house for what? For us?a She looked at the enormous manor, then back at him. aOh, for pityas sake, you are not in earnest.a aI am, I a.s.sure you.a aAshbury Hall is not a house. It is a gentlemanas country estate.a And it was not a viable choice of home. Aside from the fact someone else was already in possession of the place, he couldnat possibly afford such a property. She lifted her gaze to the heavens and prayed for patience. aWhy must I be plagued by men who cannot manage their funds with a modic.u.m of foresight and wisdom?a He brought the horses to a stop a small distance from the house and turned to smile at her. aI was wise enough to pay a good deal less for it than itas worth.a aYou . . . Itas yours?a Good heavens, that couldnat be possible. aHow is that possible?a aYou arenat aware of how property is bought and sold?a aYes, of course I am. I just . . .a She shook her head, bewildered. aSir Robert stole your fortune. You were impressed. You were imprisoneda"a aSame thing, really. But Sir Robert stole only part, youall recall. And I bought Ashbury when I bought the phaeton, before my arrest. Also before I bought my freedom.a Her eyebrows winged up. aYou bribed your way free?a aIad say the funds were extorted, but I do so hate to fill the role of victim.a She gave him a mocking smile. aYes, distasteful, isnat it?a Grinning in response, he hopped down and came around to a.s.sist her from the vehicle. She put her hand out, expecting him to take it, but he grasped her round the waist instead and gently lifted her off her feet as easily as if he were lifting a sack of grain.
Good gracious. Her hands flew to his shoulders for balance, and she felt the coil and release of muscle under her fingertips as he set her gently down on the drive. Unbidden, the memory of the last time head held her close filled her mind . . . the rough drag of lips, the drugging heat of his mouth, the way head banded his arms around her as if she was something precious, something he needed.
Shead never been held that way, never before known what it was like to have a man look at her . . . the way Connor was looking at her now. His eyes darkened and settled on her mouth, and the hands at her hips brought her closer with subtle pressure.
Adelaide leapt back and swallowed a yelp when the backs of her legs met with the hard wheel of the phaeton.
Good heavens, what was she thinking?
It didnat require much guesswork for her to ascertain what Connor was thinking. Head dropped his hands, but his eyes were still fixed on her mouth. He looked tense, tightly coiled, as if he might pounce on her with the slightest provocation.
aI . . .a She searched for something, anything, to distract him. aEr . . .a Eventually, she landed on, aAshbury Hall!a For no other reason than that it was there.
Connor lifted his gaze to hers, finally. But his only response was to raise his eyebrows.
She resumed her search. aUm . . . Is it truly yours?a His lips twitched, and he waited a beat before speaking. Just to let her know she wasnat fooling either of them.
aTruly,a he said at last. aAnd I promise you, I can well afford its upkeep.a She considered that statement, and the man, and the fine opportunity to turn the focus further away from the tension between them.
aWhy did it take you so long to gain your freedom?a With access to a corrupt official and the sort of funds needed to buy country estates, he ought to have been out in a day.
aIn the English judicial system, even bribery is subject to the delay of bureaucracy.a He lifted a negligent shoulder at her bland look. aIt took time to access the funds without attracting attention. And the only obliging official of my solicitoras acquaintance was visiting his sister in St. Petersburg. Negotiations were slow.a aBribes and negotiations have no place in a court of law.a aSuch a moral creature,a he teased. aHow would we ever know whoas guilty and who isnat?a She ran her tongue over her teeth. aLord Gideon interfered on your behalf at his wifeas request, you know.a aDid he?a aYour money may well have been wasted on your solicitoras obliging friend. It is something to consider.a She wagered his pride would consider it for a long time to come.
She wagered badly.
Connor blew out a long, dramatic breath that was just a hair shy of being a whistle. aLovely, generous Freddie. If Iad not been behind bars when we met . . .a aYes, some ladies have all the good fortune,a she said dryly.
She wasnat honestly offended by the means of his release. Shead paid for Wolfgangas private room, hadnat she? And one couldnat fault the man for gaining his release through the same corruption that had unjustly imprisoned him in the first place. Provided, of course, it had been unjust. Lilly and Winnefred proclaimed his innocence, but what did they know of the man, really?
What did any of them know?
aWere you a highwayman?a His smile didnat waver. aNo.a She waited in vain for him to elaborate. He didnat, and she realized that was all the rea.s.surance she was going to receive. It was galling to know she had no choice but to accept it.
aLilly and Winnefred say Sir Robert fabricated the story. I am inclined to believe them.a aBut only them,a he guessed and offered his elbow.
She took it without thought. aUntil given reason otherwise. Arenat we going to look at the house?a He led her off the drive and onto a narrow path through waist-high weeds, and around a box hedge that hadnat been pruned in decades.
aI thought you might like to see a bit of the grounds first,a Connor explained. aWhat do you make of them?a She could make out a small pond in the distancea"provided she walked on her toesa"and, beyond that, the walled garden Wolfgang once utilized as a medieval fortress. If memory served, it had been Englandas last defense against the marauding Viking hordes.
She sighed and resumed a normal, ladylike walk.
aTheyare overgrown,a she said. And then, at length, a. . . And beautiful.a Shead always thought them beautiful, even in their wildness.
Connor frowned thoughtfully. aThey need a gardeneras touch.a aThey need a plow,a she replied. And peonies by the gate of the walled garden. Wouldnat that be lovely?
aThe interior of the house is in better repair.a He turned her down another path, one that looked to have been cleared all the way to the front door. aThere are four wings and three floors plus the attic. It looks a bit coa.r.s.e as yet, but the needed repairs are mostly superficial, and quite a few are already completed. The new windows will go in the day after tomorrow. Many of the rooms have furnishings, but Iave an interior decorator coming from London to take care of the details.a She gave him a speculative glance. aYou didnat bring me here to choose a home; you brought me here to boast.a aI was hoping to impress you,a he admitted, unrepentant. aThe choice of home is yours, Adelaide. This is merely one of your options.a aWhat are my others?a aIave several similar properties. None quite so impressive in scale, but most are in better condition.a aSeveral?a aI did tell you I was wealthier than Sir Robert.a aYou also told me you were a guest at Mrs. Cressas house party.a aI never did,a he protested, affecting the air of a man grievously insulted. aYou erroneously inferred from my presence that I had been invited. I, you will recall, strove to correct the misunderstanding at the earliest opportunity.a She snorted at that. aYou are many things, Mr. Brice. Honest is not one of them.a aSuch venom,a he taunted as they climbed the front steps. aAnd here I am, inviting you into my home.a She rolled her eyes when he turned his back to open the ma.s.sive front door. Which, she could not help but note, failed to issue even the minutest of squeaks.