Sally James (23 page)

All she knew was that they did, and she had the most ridiculous urge to stroke his brow, to wipe away the lines of worry that marred its normal smoothness. She took a deep breath. It was simply the fact that they had been thrown into one another's company, and this was the house where her mother had been born, and had lived for most of her short life. And some of the old servants had been kind, had recalled her mother with love.

'I have many cares,' he replied now. 'Perhaps it will satisfy you to know your grandfather let things go during the last year or two, and there is much to be done. That is one reason I need your help and cooperation so that you can run the house and leave me free to attend to other matters.'

She left it at that. She had no right to insist, and he made an effort to talk about the estate.

'We'll ride out tomorrow if the weather holds and see some of it,' he said as she poured tea for him. 'I suspect, from what I saw of your riding in Hyde Park, that you need instruction in that too.'

Kate had thought her horsemanship was adequate if not especially accomplished, but on the following day she discovered it went no way towards meeting Adam's demanding standards. Shaken by the way he held her in his arms as he lifted her into the saddle and then guided her foot into the stirrup, she fumbled the reins and almost fell off as she tried to adjust her skirts - another old habit belonging to Mrs Rhydd - around the pommel.

Adam criticised her seat, her posture, her handling of the reins, and even the tone in which she called the docile old mare to come on. He had, to her intense embarrassment and annoyance, insisted on a leading rein. She was boiling with resentment as he led the way out of the stable yard at a sedate walk when she knew she was fully capable of a brisk trot, and later on a still brisker canter, even if she didn’t feel confident enough to gallop yet.

The bright frostiness of the day soon cheered her, however. Adam followed quiet paths across fields and through woods, and they saw rabbits playing and a slinking fox out looking for food, knowing he was safe for the moment from his own foes.

By the time they returned she was in more cheerful spirits. Adam had finally relented and taken off the leading rein, and permitted her to canter across the park as they approached the house. His sombre mood of the previous evening had gone, and he concentrated, rather too much for her comfort, on constant instructions and admonitions.

'You may become an adequate rider one day,' he conceded as he leapt from his own horse and came across to lift her down. He smiled at her indignant exclamation, and pulled her close so that she slid along the length of his body, slowly, held up by his arms tight round her.

She cast a glance at the groom holding the horses, but his head was averted, his neck turned so far away from them she wondered that he didn't twist it off. Adam followed her look and grinned down into her eyes, so close to his own.

'Do milkmaids enjoy dalliance in hay lofts?' he asked lightly. 'Perhaps we should repair into the one above the stables. They are, I'm told, soft and warm.'

'You no doubt know better than I do!' Kate retorted, her face pink both from the exercise and his closeness.

He laughed. 'That's a pleasure I've so far foregone. We must experience it together. One day,' he added, releasing her so suddenly that she staggered and fell back onto the mare's flank.

As the mare moved sideways Kate recovered her balance. One of the footmen appeared and the groom led away the horses.

'My lord, Mrs Rhydd and Miss Byford arrived an hour ago,' the footman announced.

Kate gave a sigh of relief. She would have some protection against Adam. His undiluted company was more than she could endure, her own emotions being in such a turmoil.

'I expect your baggage has come too,' Adam said to her. 'I will see you at dinner.'

She hurried in and up to her room. She had no idea where her aunt was and hesitated to ask Joan, who was busy unpacking her trunks and putting the clothes away. As she stripped off her riding habit and washed her eagerness to see her aunt evaporated somewhat.

She had recalled the circumstances of her journey, and knew Miss Byford would be shocked and disapproving. There was also the matter of Darcy Limmering's death, which she had contrived to push to the back of her mind these past days. What had happened? Was Adam still under suspicion? Was the man who had come to see him last night, whose visit had made him so curt and worried-looking, something to do with that?

At last Kate had to go down, but her fears were unfounded. Mrs Rhydd greeted her as though she had just arrived by a normal journey from London, and even Aunt Sophie said nothing about Kate's exploit in running away from Mrs Johnson's Academy.

The ladies were in one of the smaller saloons, which was, Kate was thankful to see, adequately heated. It was almost time for dinner and Kate found that the ride and the fresh air, plus the fact that she had eaten nothing since breakfast had made her uncommonly hungry.

'Adam says he has some letters to write, but will be with us presently,' Mrs Rhydd explained. 'It was thoughtful of him to bring you here when he found he had to come a few days early. It has no doubt given you time to get to know one another better.'

Kate did not understand it. Surely Adam would have mentioned her disgrace. She felt a surge of gratitude to him that he had not, and then began to consider his possible reasons. Perhaps he meant to hold it over her as a threat, revealing it to his mother and her aunt if she did not comply with all his demands. She would not submit! On the other hand, a niggling small voice within her insisted, she did not in the least want her aunt to know how foolish she had been, and how very nearly she had wrecked her life and reputation.

She had never previously had secrets from her aunt. Now she was fully grown, a young lady, and her situation had changed by her grandfather's belated recognition of her, and Adam's determination to marry her.

Except that he should not! She was, after a few days to consider it, thankful he had rescued her from the deceitful Darcy's clutches, even though she was sorry Darcy had met such a dreadful end. She knew that on her own she would have been in severe difficulties, even if she had escaped, with no money and almost no baggage. The very thought that she might have been forced to submit to his loathsome attentions filled her with horror. But it did not mean she had changed her mind about marriage to Adam, even if he had behaved considerately towards her and kept her misdeeds from the other ladies, pretending he had merely escorted her directly from Kensington.

'Why didn't you tell them?' she demanded later in the evening when they were all in the drawing room after dinner, and Mrs Rhydd and Aunt Sophie were deep in a discussion of the latest fashions, leaving Adam to entertain Kate by teaching her some of the simpler card games.

'Did you wish me to?' he enquired, lifting one eyebrow. ‘I will, if you desire it,' he added, and laughed at Kate’s vehement shake of the head.

'No, of course I don't.  Aunt Sophie would be so shocked,' she replied. ‘I ought to thank you. I do thank you, I am grateful to you. But what have you told them about Darcy?' she asked and looked up, startled, when he put a strong, warm hand over hers.

'That we had to halt for the night there, he happened to be there too, and how he was killed,' he said quietly. 'They know about the jewels. Martin apparently reached London the next day, and the news was all over town before nightfall.'

'Did you tell them - that, well, that the constable made accusations against you?'

'Not yet. Not unless they revive them. Despite your grandfather's death my mother has been happier for the past weeks than for some time.  I don't wish to worry her. She and your aunt have become great friends, and are company for one another. Mama has not had an easy time living with Great Uncle George, but she preferred to be his hostess, as I was heir to the title, to living in a small house on her own. And even though he was an irascible old devil at times it was company for her while I was in the army.'

Later Kate lay in bed considering the day's events. Adam had been generous in not betraying her. He had appeared much more reasonable than ever before, even kind in his desire to protect his mother, and she wondered whether she had possibly misjudged him, as she had Darcy. Yet nothing could change his arrogance in declaring that she would marry him, whatever her own wishes, nor his determination to order her life for her even though he had no conceivable right to do so.

For the moment she had no alternative but to obey him, and at least she had escaped from that dreadful Academy. For the first time in her life she was living in luxury, about to become part of a house party and enjoy some social life, and meet new people who would be bound to be more interesting than the few she had met at home.

There was nothing for it but to accept the situation for the time being. Even the prospect of Annabelle Wilson amongst the guests at the house party had to be faced. She would simply make the best of the experience. It would be necessary to fight for her freedom when the notion of marriage was once more raised, but it did not seem as though Adam meant to urge that for a while. He had not mentioned it since his mother had arrived. She would try to forget the threat hanging over her of that battle to come.

Chapter Nineteen

For several days Kate was able to follow her own advice. She found a well stocked library with dozens of interesting books, and when the weather was fine Adam continued to teach her to ride properly, eventually promoting her to a more spritely steed as they rode about the estate. He made no further attempt to kiss her, and she gradually relaxed.

She found these expeditions far more enjoyable than her rather scrambling rides on Thomas's old pony at home, or the sedate progresses round Hyde Park. Soon, though, she began to chafe at Adam's caution when one morning he berated her for allowing her horse to break into a gallop as they set off towards the woods.

'Why can't I?' she demanded mutinously. Without waiting for an answer she spurred on the horse towards the trunk of a fallen tree which lay slightly to one side of the path. Gritting her teeth she clung to the pommel as the horse leapt over it, and then turned with a triumphant smile towards Adam as he came alongside.

'You little fool!' he said furiously.

'I didn't fall off,' she pointed out, rather startled at his vehemence.

Adam took a deep breath. 'No, but did you know what was beyond the trunk?'

'I could see there weren't any branches to get in the way.'

'There might have been holes, burrows, molehills, anything to trip up the horse,' he said cuttingly. 'And you shouldn't gallop across the park unless you are sure there are no rabbit holes the horse could put his foot in.'

'Oh. I didn't think,' Kate said in a small voice. Was that all he cared about, that the horse didn't break his leg? Of course she didn't want to be the cause of that either, but Adam didn't seem to care if she had fallen herself, and broken her neck.

His next words immediately contradicted her assumption, but they were hardly comforting.

'I have no desire to see you carried to the altar with a broken leg,' he snapped. 'Nor do I wish for a bride who is so incapacitated that neither of us can enjoy being in bed together!'

When the visitors arrived a few days later they went straight up to their rooms to change. Kate, who had been out riding with Adam, did not meet them until she came down to the drawing room just before dinner was announced.

'Kate, my dear, come and be presented to Lady Fernleigh,' Mrs Rhydd said imperiously as Kate entered the room.

Kate had halted on the threshold. Annabelle Wilson was seated on a small sopha, looking more beautiful than ever in a cherry red gown which, Kate thought waspishly, was far too skimpy to keep her warm in this house. Maybe she'd catch a cold, and then her vibrant beauty would be dimmed a little. She turned her eyes slowly and unseeingly towards Mrs Rhydd. Somehow she made polite responses as she was introduced to Sir George and Lady Fernleigh, and their daughter Margaret, a larger and less finished edition of Annabelle. Margaret's hair was as dark, but it was coarser and looked lifeless. Her eyes were as blue, but just too close together for beauty. Her cheeks were as red, but they made her look like a country girl who worked outside in the fields, and was bursting with rude health. Her nose and mouth and hands and feet were all just that little bit too large.

Kate was distracted from her cataloguing when Mrs Rhydd said, with obvious satisfaction, 'Of course you know our dear Annabelle, but I don't think you have met Mr Wilson.'

Kate gave Annabelle a stiff smile which was returned without a hint of recognition. 'Have we met? Lord, you must forgive me! I meet so many people and I have the most atrocious memory.'

Mr Wilson was at least fifteen years older than Annabelle, but he was still handsome and possessed an excellent figure, shown off more by his discreet tailoring than any hint of flamboyance. His smile was kind, and Kate warmed to him. How dare his wife betray him, she thought angrily. From what she had deduced Annabelle had married him in a fit of pique after a tiff with Adam, but had soon returned to her first love.

Her fists clenched, she retreated to the far end of the room, pretending to be looking through some music on the pianoforte, but acutely conscious of Annabelle's attention focussed on the door, and her sprightly animation when Adam came in, profuse with apologies for being later than his guests.

'Don't apologize, my boy,' Sir George, a large hearty, red faced man, boomed. 'We're family, no need to stand on ceremony.'

Adam smiled, but had time only for a few words before Jenkins announced dinner. Kate found herself going into the dining room beside Annabelle since there were fewer men than ladies in the party. She was concentrating so hard on telling herself she must be polite, must not reveal her unreasonable dislike, that she had difficulty in paying attention to what the other was saying.