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Authors: Katherine Kingsley

Tags: #FICTION/Romance/Historical

In the Wake of the Wind (17 page)

BOOK: In the Wake of the Wind
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“How?” she asked, wiping her eyes on his handkerchief. “I don’t know anything about dealing with position. Charlotte despises me for that too, and yet she’d hate me even more if I interfered. And Aiden thinks I’m hopeless, as polite as he’s tried to be about my inadequacies.” She blew her nose. “I don’t want to live my life forever feeling inferior to everyone around me, just because I don’t know how to go on in their manner. But I don’t know what to do about it.”

He fell silent for a long moment. “I think I might have a solution,” he finally said. “Do you know how to ride?”

“Of course,” she said, wiping her eyes yet again.

“Good. I’ll have a decent mare sent over to you first thing in the morning. You can ride over to Southwell every afternoon, and you and I can proceed from there.”

“What do you mean?” she asked in confusion.

“What I mean is that we have only three weeks before Aiden returns. I think—I can’t be sure, of course—but I think that I can teach you much of what you need to know in that time about being a countess. If we go about the lessons at my house, no one will be the wiser, Charlotte included, and furthermore, my staff is well trained and they wouldn’t think to ask questions.”

Serafina
gaped at him. “But what do you think you can possibly teach me? I’m hopelessly backward.”

“Let me be the judge of that. All I ask is that you appear at lunchtime tomorrow.”

Serafina
gazed up at him, looking for the trick in his offer. But he appeared totally sincere, his gray eyes filled with warmth and a touch of gentle humor. For the first time since she’d landed at Townsend,
Serafina
felt accepted for who she was. She felt as if she’d found a friend.

And yet she couldn’t bring herself to accept his invitation, mostly because she had no desire to make even more of a fool of herself than she already had. She knew he could never make a countess out of her, as much as he wished to. “I cannot, your dukedom, although I appreciate your kindness in offering.”

“But this is my point exactly,” he said. “I don’t want to put too fine a point on it, but you actually address dukes as ‘your grace.’”

“Oh,” she said, feeling incredibly foolish, realizing that was what he’d been trying to tell her the last time they met. “Your grace, I mean.”

“Very good, although you should call me Raphael, since we’re second cousins by marriage.”

“Cousins? How are we cousins?” she asked, thrown into confusion again. “I thought you and Aiden were just good friends.”

“That is easy enough to explain,” he replied. “My mother and Aiden’s mother were cousins. Since they married men with adjoining estates and Aiden and I were born only a year apart, we grew up more like brothers.”

“Oh, how nice,” she said wistfully. “I always wished for brothers and sisters. Have you any? Real ones, I mean?”

“I have a younger brother who is a complete scapegrace,” he said ruefully. “My sainted mother routinely suffers heart palpitations on his behalf, since he has a fondness for getting himself into trouble and working his way out of it by dueling.”

“Dueling?”
Serafina
said, her eyes lighting up with delight. “Do you mean pistols at dawn?”

“Pistols, swords, whatever comes to hand. Hugo so far has managed to avoid actually killing anyone, mostly because he’s usually too foxed to do any real damage.”

“But aren’t you terrified that he’ll be killed?” she asked breathlessly. She’d only read about duels in books, and they sounded the most romantic thing, a man fighting for a woman’s honor by the gray light of sunrise.

“No,” Raphael replied dryly, “because his opponents are also either too foxed or too frightened to kill a duke’s brother—retribution and all that. But just to be safe I sent Hugo out of the country for a time on the theory that a continental tour might cool his blood. So far I’ve only had to bail him out of gambling debts, an easier proposition than clearing him of murder.”

“Has Aiden ever fought a duel?” she said, sure she knew the answer. She could just see Aiden now, stalking down his adversary, murder in his eyes.


Aiden
? You must be joking. He’s far too sensible.” He picked up the basket. “We’d best start back, given the hour. I’ve secured a dinner invitation from Charlotte.” They walked for a moment before he spoke again. “I think you should know that Aiden only pursues what he knows he can win, which is what makes him such a good businessman.”

Serafina
considered his statement, turning over its meaning, hoping he didn’t intend her as his target. “If he’s such a good businessman,” she said after a minute, “then why is his family in such bad financial straits?”

This had been a subject of considerable concern to her. She hadn’t managed to ferret out another single piece of information from Elspeth, who had only said that since the Delawares were now saved by Serafina’s fortune there was no point in worrying about the problem.

At least Elspeth had finally gotten around to explaining about Serafina’s inheritance, that it had been separate from the entail that bound Bowhill to the closest male heir. When
Serafina
had questioned her as to why Elspeth had kept the fortune such a secret, Elspeth merely said that she hadn’t seen any need to mention it and turn Serafina’s head when she was going to be married to Aiden anyway.

“You really are in the dark, aren’t you?” Raphael said, regarding her curiously. “The family problems are no fault of Aiden’s. He was away overseeing the shipping business in various parts of the world when his father nearly managed to lose everything they owned by making some singularly poor business decisions.”

“Oh, how difficult for Lord Delaware,”
Serafina
said with heavy sympathy. “But surely Aiden oughtn’t to have let his father make any decisions at all, not in his condition.”

“What condition is that?” Raphael said, glancing down at her.


You
know—his mind wanders,” she said, frowning. “He can’t help it.”

“It’s not his mind that wanders, it’s his hand. He’d do a great deal better if he kept it away from the bottle,” Raphael said matter-of-factly. “And Aiden could hardly do anything about his father’s drinking, especially when he was thousands of miles away, so you can’t blame him for what happened. If Delaware had bothered to inform Aiden when the trouble first began, Aiden might have been able to salvage the situation. As it was, he knew nothing about the disaster until it was nearly too late.”

Serafina’s mouth fell open in shock as she finally understood what was at the root of Lord Delaware’s constant confusion and prolonged absences in his bedroom. “Do you mean to say Lord Delaware is
not
senile?”

Raphael burst into laughter. “Senile? I should say not, or at least not until he’s consumed a bottle of burgundy by mid morning. Is that really what you thought?” he said, his smile fading. “That Aiden was responsible for this entire mess?”

Serafina
bowed her head. “He said nothing to explain.”

“And why would he? Do you think he’d come right out and say his father was a drunkard, especially when you’d already had enough shocks? I imagine he hoped you would divine the situation for yourself, but then I suppose you’ve never been exposed to tosspots before.”

“No … only Aunt Elspeth when she overcelebrates, which is limited to the sacred days when she honors the god and goddess. Oh—poor Aiden,” she said as another, even more awful thought occurred. “He must have been truly horrified when I swooned the other night after drinking a glass of wine.”

Raphael stopped in his tracks. “Did you?” he said, his face returning to that neutral expression that betrayed nothing.

Serafina,
deeply ashamed, nodded. “I didn’t mean to—it’s just that I’ve never had anything alcoholic to drink before and the wine went to my head. Aiden must think he’s married another drunkard, since he had to carry me upstairs and put me to bed.” She colored in hot embarrassment. “I think I know how Lord Delaware feels. I couldn’t remember a thing. It was awful.”

Raphael scratched his cheek, gazing down at the ground. “Oh, well, as for that, it’s perfectly normal to be forgetful after overindulging. I wouldn’t worry yourself overmuch. You just have to learn how to pace yourself.”

“No, I think I’d rather not,” she said.

He looked up. “Oh, dear. Then we might have a problem.”

“What I meant was that I think I’d rather stay with my usual fare of water. But—but what about Lord Delaware?” she asked, returning to her initial concern. “He can’t go on muddling up people’s lives just because he drinks too freely. No wonder Charlotte goes on and on about the evils of alcohol the few times that her father has been in attendance. I thought Aiden must have told her how I’d disgraced myself and she was trying to set me on the right path.”

“I’m sure she’s trying to set you on the right path, much as she’s always done with Aiden and myself to no avail. But in Delaware’s case, I think he’s bound and determined to evade his daughter, which probably explains why he spends so much of his time in seclusion. I don’t think he wants to be reformed, certainly not by Charlotte.”

She sighed. “Then I suppose the only thing to do is try to help him find something else to do with his time. He’s probably just lonely, since he really doesn’t have anyone to love or to love him, from what I’ve seen. Maybe I can persuade him to help me in the gardens, where he wouldn’t have time to drink.” She looked up at him. “Do you think that might work?”

Raphael picked up her hand and held it in his own, gazing down at her fingers.
“Serafina
… I think you might be the best thing that’s happened to this family in a very long time.”

“You do?” she said, shocked to her core. “I—I thought you believed the exact opposite.”

“Initially, but that was before I spoke with you privately. Suffice it to say that I believe you might be a godsend. There’s been too much unhappiness at Townsend for too long.”

“I don’t see how I can help with that. Charlotte can’t bear the sight of me, Lord Delaware can barely see me at all, and Aiden doesn’t love me in the least. Even the servants find me a trial, for they vanish the instant I appear.”

Raphael smiled. “That’s what they’re trained to do.”

“Oh. Well, I find their behavior very disheartening, for I’d like above anything to have someone to talk to. The only person who speaks freely is Janie—she’s my maid, but she only came to Townsend when I did, so Charlotte hasn’t trained her to silence yet. Janie talks nonstop, which I find comforting.”

“And let us hope she continues do so if she’s giving you some comfort. I know Townsend is a gloomy, depressing place,
Serafina.
My mother says that when Lady Delaware died, all the life went out of the place; Delaware never really recovered from his wife’s death. Apparently he loved her deeply and was devastated when he lost her.”

“How did she die?”
Serafina
asked, suddenly wanting to know as much as she could about Aiden’s family in the faintly dawning hope that she could somehow make a difference to them, give a purpose to her own life.

“She died giving birth to Aiden,” he said flatly. “She’d had Charlotte, followed by a few stillbirths, and she’d been warned against another pregnancy but she kept trying, knowing how badly her husband wanted a son. Delaware’s son and heir was produced at the expense of his wife’s life.” He shook his head. “I think Aiden has always felt responsible for his father’s deep grief, which is probably why he hasn’t ripped him limb from limb before this.”

Serafina’s eyes filled with unexpected tears as she absorbed the significance of his words. “How sad that Aiden never had a mother—and his father must have resented him for appearing at all, even if he was the heir he’d wanted.”

“You’re right about that. Delaware never had any time for Aiden as a boy, devoting himself to his grief rather than his children. And then there was Charlotte’s accident six years after Lady Delaware’s death, which didn’t help matters any.”

“I’ve been longing to ask,”
Serafina
said hesitantly. “I don’t want to intrude, but I am curious about what happened to her.”

Raphael sighed heavily and pushed a hand through his hair. “God, that was a terrible day. We were out riding, Charlotte in charge of us, when Aiden’s pony bolted and Charlotte took off after him on her horse. In her haste she took a jump badly and fell.” He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, as if he could erase the scene he described. “Charlotte broke her spine.”

“Oh … oh, how terrible!”
Serafina
pressed her hands against her cheeks, reminded of her mother’s accident on a runaway horse. But her mother’s accident had been fatal. At least Charlotte’s life had been spared, even if she couldn’t walk.

“Yes, it was. Nothing’s been the same for Charlotte since. She was such a bright, cheerful girl, only twelve, her head filled with plans for marriage and children, talking incessantly about her come-out, the usual feminine prattle that used to drive Aiden and me crazy.” He released a long, hollow breath. “And then in one split second all her hopes were destroyed when she took that fall and lost the use of her legs. She’s been in severe pain ever since.”

“I—I’m sorry,”
Serafina
said, overcome with shame. “I should never have said anything nasty about her, especially if she’s suffering.”

BOOK: In the Wake of the Wind
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