Read The Rake Enraptured Online

Authors: Amelia Hart

The Rake Enraptured (14 page)

"Actually I'm certain Miss Preston would benefit from some time indoors. She is chilled," came Mr Kingley's calm, deep voice. "Perhaps
I
could escort you to the ruins, sir, if the Carstairs will watch over my little ones. I'm no expert, but I can at least show you where the ruins are and you can take whatever time you wish to explore them."

"Oh, of course you must not go out if you are very cold, Miss Preston. Unless you think a walk will warm you?" said Mrs Carstairs while Mr
Holbrook's gaze flicked between Julia and Mr Kingley, who stood protectively close to her. His eyes narrowed.

"Not so much as the fire, my thanks," Julia replied, bobbed an abbreviated curtsy and turned, giving Mr Kingley a gentle tug on the arm to steer him indoors at her side.

"I'll be with you shortly," said Mr Kingsley over his shoulder, to Mr Holbrook.

"I'm sure you need not hurry," Julia said after a moment, when they were out of earshot. "Nothing I know of Mr
Holbrook leads me to believe him such an eager scholar as he claims."

"
Oh? You know him well then?"

"Mostly by reputation," she said after a moment's hesitation. "He is a dilettante in all things. He must have some other reason for visiting."

"I wonder what it is," said Mr Kinsley idly, as if hardly interested. "There is so little about our quiet society to draw strangers."

"I can't imagine."

"A cavalry lieutenant. Very dashing."

"He probably chose the commission to impress the fairer sex."

"Well you certainly don't think highly of him." He looked down at her with amused speculation, his eyebrows raised. "I don't think I've ever heard you speak an unkind word about anyone."

"It is too bad of him, really, to put me to the blush immediately. Or no, that's not fair. I embarrass myself. I bear him a grudge. He pursued me a little t
he last we met, enough for my previous employer to think the matter unseemly and find me unwelcome in my post."

"Ah," said Mr Kingsley, his expression hardening. "That does put a different complexion on things."

"I shouldn't have mentioned it. I do not wish to give him more importance than he really possesses. Let us not speak of him again."

"No, of course not." He frowned at the ground as he walked. After several long seconds he went on, "Perhaps it is you who draws him here."

"Oh, I hardly think so," she said with a scornful little laugh. "He has not such constancy." Even as she said it she felt a quiver of shame for her harsh words. Oh, Mr Holbrook really did make her strange. If only he had not come.

Mr Kingsley quirked a doubtful look at her under his b
rows. "Perhaps you inspire him to be a better man," he said, and his tone was jesting.

"I have not such power."

"You underestimate yourself, I'm sure."

"You overestimate, from a kind heart."

"From genuine affection, more like."

"You are a great deal kinder
than I deserve." Such words should be cherished when they came from a good man such as him. Instead they seemed awkward to her and out of place when she was in such turmoil over another man's presence.

"Not at all. I have come to know you more than a litt
le, these past months, and what I know I naturally admire. You are everything that is constant and noble in womanhood, earnest and dutiful and wise."

"You make me sound a bore." She tried to say it lightly, as the atmosphere between them became something s
he was not ready for, no, not yet, and not now, while they were still outside and within view of any of the party on the snow-covered lawn.

"Not at all," he said, and his hand came to cover hers where it rested on his arm. "Often we laugh together, and you
know I enjoy your wit too."

She took a deep breath, but did not know what to say. Was he about to declare himself? He was everything she had always been certain she wanted in a husband: kind and affectionate, a caring father, a gentle and well-educated ma
n. Sober, respectable and level-headed. Brimful of every virtue, but she could find no storm of emotion inside herself for him. Such a thing could grow though, could it not? Over years of caring partnership? It did not have to happen at once. Love could be a gradual thing. She looked at him, trying to imagine meeting him over the breakfast table every morning, sharing her days with him, retiring with him at night.

Or sitting on his lap with him half-clothed
as he kissed her and reached inside her dress as Mr Holbrook had once done-

She looked away, putting out a hand to rest on the curved iron door handle that would grant entry to the largest drawing room.  

"I don't wish to make you uncomfortable,” he said, “but you must know I feel a great preference for your company, and a growing affection I would venture to call love. I wish you would let me know if my attentions are welcome."

He said it with the natural diffidence of a humble man, but without real doubt
. After all, she had not given him any reason to think she did not enjoy his company just as much.

Was Mr
Holbrook to throw all that into jeopardy, merely by showing his smug face in the midst of their company, unannounced? No!

"You are always welcome to m
e, Mr Kingsley. In fact I cannot think of a single man - no, not a single one - who could be counted more welcome." She met his gaze and lifted her chin to a militant angle.

He smiled a bright smile, his face creasing into a happy shape that made him more
attractive, if only she could concentrate on it and not feel this dreaded tide of guilt that rose within her.

"Then I shall entertain glad thoughts of a time when I may do more to smooth your path and lift your burdens," he said, and turned the handle that
was the twin to the one she held, opening the other door of the pair. She released the one she held and stepped through the doorway, while he remained outside, then stopped on the threshold and searched for a truly honest thing to say to him.

"I think you
may be the kindest man I know, and I count myself extraordinarily fortunate to have earned your regard."

His eyes were very warm, and he held out one hand in clear expectation. She put her own into it, and he lifted it to his mouth and kissed her gloved f
ingers, a gentle touch she did not perceive through the leather. She felt the squeeze of his fingers though, before he released them, and he bowed respectfully, stepped away and with a jaunty stride went back towards the party standing on the snowy slope. Around his figure she could see Mr Holbrook watching them both. From this distance she could not make out his expression but he stood very still and there was something about how his body spoke that made her think of great tension.

Then he looked away, an
d the spell that had held them as she stared at him and he at her, around the man who had so nearly spoken to claim her future, was broken.

She shut the door.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER
SIXTEEN

 

"She is in great looks tonight, is she not?" said Mrs Carstairs, sat down gracefully next to him and contemplated the tiered selection of small cakes on the side table.

"I beg your pardon?" said Colin, awaking from his reverie.

"Miss Preston. It amazes me, really, for I never saw a woman so transformed by happiness. She is so vivacious tonight. Almost a different person. It's a pleasure to see her so well matched in Mr Kingsley. You said you were friends, so I'm sure you feel it too. We expect an announcement any day now. We shall be sorry to lose her, for she manages the children so beautifully. Not every governess can, you know. I love them all dearly, but they are a handful, there's no doubt."

"The children?"

"Of course. I blush to say it but Mr Carstairs and I have raised them to be so independent and courageous there's barely any controlling them. I hope I can find another who does so well."

"Certainly Miss Preston is a marvel," he said, trying to keep bitterness from his tone. He had not imagined - while he was immured on his estates avoiding the temptations of the flesh, th
at she might be forming a connection with some other man. He would never have left her side if he had thought it likely. So much for unswerving devotion.

"She was such a fortunate discovery of mine. I fear she was undervalued at her last post, for they let
her go when she attracted unwanted attention. I will say that sort of nonsense makes me furious. Simply beside myself." She straightened and looked very grim, as if she would like to dismember an unseen foe, an expression incongruous on such a gently pretty face.

"Nonsense?"

"When women are pursued and others make it out the unseemly attentions are the fault of the woman and not the man. It's enough to make me take up arms, I swear it is. I have a charity I foster, in London, that raises foundlings in decent circumstances, and sometimes helps their mothers, if we can find them. I cannot tell you how often I have heard that the siring of bastard children is the fault of the woman alone. Even in the case of rape. I get so angry."

He could see it was true, her small frame rigid on the seat, her delicate tart forgotten in a hand that quivered slightly. Evidently his Julia had come to represent some
thing much larger in her mind. Or was she speaking more precisely?

"Is that the case here?" he asked with care, ready to go to war himself. What exactly had gone on in the past six months?

Mrs Carstairs came back to herself with a start, and a slightly guilty look. "Oh, no, of course not. Forgive me. I am climbing on my soap box again. No, of course in this case, luckily, it was kept innocent, whatever the objectives of the man in question. Goodness, I must not say such things to you after all, when I do not even know how closely connected you are to Miss Preston. I am scandalously indiscreet. Mr Carstairs will scold me."

"I'm sure he could never find fault with you," he said with charming gallantry, and she grinned a sudden, impish grin.

"Then you know nothing of married couples, Mr Holbrook. There is always fault to be found, and only love makes us tolerant. So it does delight me to think Miss Preston will discover the same. A charming end to her story, or more precisely, a beginning, though I hesitate to say it is a man who defines the start of a woman's life. That is not how I mean it, of course, but only that after many years one can look back on meeting one's husband and feel that is when life itself changed radically. Perhaps I am speaking Greek to you, though."

"No, I understand you completely," he said slowly, his own smile dying as he looked across the withdrawing room to where Julia sat next to Mr Kingsley, their heads bent close together. Suddenly she laughed, tilting her head back, and laid a hand
on his arm. His hand immediately rose to cover it, and though she withdrew hers a moment later there remained that impression between them of tenderness.

Colin clenched a fist.

"So you are in love?" Mrs Carstairs said in a tone of delighted discovery, her eyes lifting to his face. "You've felt that change?"

"Yes," he said with unintentional emphasis, and a moment later realized his mistake as she followed his gaze to Julia. He heard her draw in a sharp breath. When he looked down at her he saw her eyes had
gone wide in a face that was suddenly pale. She was far too clever.

"Mr
Holbrook," she said, and he heard the note of steel was back in her voice, not so sweet as it had been. "I hope you will take care what you do here. Others may be different, but I do not let my guests meddle with the happiness of my staff. I see Miss Preston has clearly made a choice, and you will not interfere with that, no matter your own agenda."

He suspected she had put together his sudden appearance and prior knowledge of Julia an
d leapt to an unsavory conclusion. He faced her down with the certainty of his own nobility of purpose.

"As to that, Madam, Miss Preston operates on only partial information. I have no desire to distress her, but I will be very certain - very certain - she
has every piece of that information before she makes any lasting choice."

She stared at him very hard, her nostrils flared. He met her gaze unflinchingly.

"Have a care, Mr Holbrook," she warned him.

"In matters of importance, I always do."

He had made her unhappy, and in a moment she excused herself and left him alone. She crossed the room to where Mr Carstairs stood speaking with three other men, more of their neighbors who had been invited for dinner. Deftly she detached him and whispered in the ear he obligingly bent close to her, his hand catching hers and his other arm going around her waist. A moment later his eyes suddenly met Colin's under lowered brows, and the look was a dark one. For the first time Colin had a clear sense how dangerous this man must have been on the battlefield.

But then so had Colin been dangerous, and again he met the stare without hesitation, and lifted his chin in cool challenge. Mr Carstairs patted his wife's hand, then came towards Colin.

"My dear wife is full of speculation tonight," Mr Carstairs said straight out as he reached Colin's side, and his polite smile did not reach his eyes.

"Any friend of Miss Preston's must be glad she has such an ally."

"More than one. Be very certain she does not stand alone."

"Be very certain
she is not under threat."

"If I felt such certainty, we would not be having this conversation."

"My intentions are of the most honorable."

Mr Carstairs's
chest rose and fell as he took a slow breath and weighed these words. Finally he said, "That is worth knowing, but ultimately it is the lady's intentions that must carry the day."

Colin smiled a wintry smile. "Of course. Perhaps we would do better to leave things in her hands rather than decide them between ourselves." Mr Carstairs narrowed his eyes,
the distinguished air of a gentleman barely masking the implied threat. If Colin had been a different man he might have felt fear. Instead he bared his teeth a little. "I say again how relieved I am to find the lady so well protected."

"You took poor care
of her before, if Mrs Carstairs was correct and that was you Miss Preston encountered under Mrs Trent's roof."

Colin looked away, pressed his lips together to quell the surge of tem
per at this accusation. "I courted her as best I might, then declared myself. She would not have me unless I proved myself faithful. I withdrew, accepting her commission. I had no word from her that she was in dire straits. She had only to send for me and I would have been at her side as fast as a horse could bring me."

Mr Carstairs considered this, and then there was a sense he had come to some decision as he turned his head to survey the room. "I'll warrant that is fast enough."

"Yes."

"Keep a good stable
, do you?"

"The best."

"I'd like to see it some time."

"I'm at your service. And at hers."

"So you proved yourself faithful, did you?"

"I did."

"This was a matter of some doubt?"

"We move in the same circles. Perhaps you are aware of my reputation."

"Perhaps."

"It is exaggerated, and I'm afraid Miss Preston formed an unflattering picture of me I could not shake."

"How inconvenient." Mr Carstairs's sardonic twist of lip indicated he had heard enough about Colin from other sources to draw his own conclusions.

"Quite."

"Miss Preston is not your usual sort, from what I've heard."

"Of course the woman one seeks to marry may be different from those with whom one wiled away time when younger and less discerning."

"Certainly. And you with so many years in your dish. No, don't square up at me, young cockerel. I think I understand you. But understand me. I'll not see her hurt or bullied. She stands under my protection."

"I wish for her happiness."

"Then leave. You have only to look at her to see how happy she already is."

"She is meant for more than a life of staid respectability. There is a fire in her-"

"Yes, yes, do not preach to me of fires. I am not so old I have forgotten what that is like." For a moment his gaze rested fondly on his wife, who watched them anxiously - if covertly - from where she stood with some of her guests. "Miss Preston is to be treated with the utmost propriety. I won't have you starting rumors about her again."

"I am sure I shall be as restrained in my courtship of her as you were in yours o
f your most admirable wife."

Mr Carstairs shot him a look as hard as iron, and said through gritted teeth. "I waited many years. Restraint was my watchword."

"Yes, I've heard that story too," said Colin, enjoying the sudden reversal.

"If you have heard an
y other story you may disregard it as a lie. That is tiresome old gossip, false and most annoying to Mrs Carstairs."

"Consider it forgotten."

"You are a very provoking man."

"You are not the first to say so."

Mr Carstairs gave a sardonic bark of laughter. "No, I imagine I am not. Very well then. I can't say you have my blessing, but you may at least speak to Miss Preston. Do not put a spoke in Mr Kingsley's wheels."

"I intend to put the very greatest of spokes
into the man's wheels."

"Do not drive him away, out
of spite. Do not make her choose between you or a life lived only as a governess. She deserves a family of her own. She is an admirable woman."

"You've no need to tell me that, sir. I see it perfectly cle
arly. I would spend my life giving it to her."

"You are very glib, though I suppose that's to be expected of a man in love." He eyed Colin to see if he would refute this statement, but Colin only looked back blandly, not to be goaded. "The utmost decorum,
mind you."

"Sir. Your very obedient," Colin drawled in faint mockery, and Mr Carstairs sighed.

"No time like the present." And with that he crossed the room and inclined his head politely to Miss Preston, who looked up in immediate enquiry. He said something to Mr Kingsley and to her and held out his hand. Unsuspecting, she put her own into it, spoke an aside to Mr Kingsley with a warm smile that made Colin suddenly want to hit the man, and stood. Mr Carstairs led her back over the intervening distance to where Colin stood. He watched her face change as she saw their destination, saw the aborted movement that signaled her desire to escape, waited quietly as she was delivered up to him all unwilling.

This was not how he would have chosen to speak to her. He h
ad no wish for an audience, and every desire for privacy that would allow him to take the same liberties he had taken with her before, to feel the tentative flutters of her response, caged by her inhibitions but instinctively passionate for all that. He remembered words were not the best way to woo her, for all the pleasure she took from talking, and was prepared to use every resource he had at hand to prove to her how right they were together, despite her apprehensions.

No, in the center of this calm, nei
ghborly gathering, quiet and sedate, was no place for a declaration of his undying passion. Yet this was the time Mr Carstairs had granted, and all Julia was likely to allow him given how she already avoided contact.

". . . think the sooner Mr
Holbrook's curiosity about the ruins is satisfied, the sooner we can set him free to resume his journey. If you will only take a few minutes now, I'm sure everything can be made clear and settled in his mind. Then he is freed from our sedate company. It must be tiresome to be mewed up with yokels such as ourselves."

"Oh, certainly, Mr Carstairs," she said with wry sarcasm justified by
her employer’s place at Court and in the highest social circles in the land. "Yokels indeed. Very tiresome."

Other books

Storm by D.J. MacHale
Legio XVII: Battle of Zama by Thomas A. Timmes
Wild Nights by Karen Erickson
Roar by Aria Cage
Framed by Lynda La Plante
Ghost Claws by Jonathan Moeller
The Tigress of Forli by Elizabeth Lev


readsbookonline.com Copyright 2016 - 2024