The Gentle Wind's Caress (12 page)

She turned and watched the shadow cast along the wall. The dim light shone on an old painting of a girl with a dog. Moving on, Isabelle went to the bookshelf on the far wall. It held only two books, the husbandry book Hughie mentioned, and a smaller book of poetry. Next to those were three small tin boxes. Opening them, she found one box held hair, golden curls, the next box a small collection of silk thread. The last box was empty.

Again, the sorrow of this room consumed her. It was as though the ghosts of years past lingered, whispering.

‘Belle? Belle?’

Hughie’s calling brought her out of her reverie. ‘In here.’

He stood in the doorway, grinning. ‘The first lamb was just born. Come look.’

She smiled and followed him out. Closing the door on the front room, she paused. An inner voice spoke to her and straightened her spine. She wasn’t going to repeat the Farrell’s failure of the past. She would show them all.

***

Ethan ducked his head under a low branch and swore softly when a fluttering of dislodged snow slipped down his collar. He guided Copper away from the fast flowing Hebden Water and edged up the steep wooded incline of Lee Wood. He’d spent the morning discussing the operations of his mill and examining the account books with the mill manager. After touring the four stories of the building and being cooped up in the fetid heat cast by the weaving machines, he craved the clean crisp air.

Copper knew the track through the woods without any further guidance from him so Ethan relaxed in the saddle and allowed the cool dampness of the wood to ease his mind away from business. Tomorrow would come soon enough when he would begin another round of visiting his business concerns.

A rabbit darted in the undergrowth and Gyp, his golden retriever raced after it, only to come up short when a convenient hole allowed the rabbit to escape. Gyp nosed around the hole’s entrance until Ethan whistled for him. The poor fellow had been kept to lingering in the house grounds while he was in Liverpool, and as soon as Ethan walked to the stables Gyp had run beside him, as eager as he was to be away.

Although only weeks since his last ride, it felt like months. His trip to Liverpool to check on his business interests there took two weeks. Two weeks of being plagued by the image of Isabelle. What did she have that made him unable to forget her? She belonged to another man. No! The instant he thought it, he swiped it from his mind. She was never Farrell’s, but then, she would never be his either. He swore softly and violently.

The more he thought of Isabelle the more he became frustrated by his life. The last two days of rain kept him inside with Clarice and it nearly drove him to madness. His mother’s chest cold kept her in bed, the best place for her, he knew, but it also meant he had to suffer his wife’s presence alone. His patience to endure her failed him. For too long, he had put the estate above any other needs. Her money had made great changes in the productivity of the estate. It allowed him to build terraced houses in Hebden Bridge and other properties in Todmorden. He had kept his promise to his dying father to better the family’s financial situation.

Now, due to his wise investments in cotton mills, glass works and railways, they had more money than ever before, but his sacrifice of personal happiness was only now showing him that money wasn’t everything. The family’s position had risen to new heights, his name had been mentioned within the community for a parliament position. Yet, none of this gave him the satisfaction it should. His wife’s childlike mannerisms and corpulence embarrassed him. She treated him like a stranger, or worse, as someone of no importance. Clarice didn’t want a husband and a household, she wanted the inside of a sweets jar. … a childlike existence where her greatest decisions of the day were what treats she could eat.

Riding out of the wood, he guided Copper to the right and down Lee Wood Road. Ethan breathed deeply and titled his head back to the sun. March. Spring blossomed on the horizon. Blood coursed through his veins. He felt alive and edgy and suddenly filled with the need to gallop, to pound over the frozen earth and clear away his frustrations.

Copper slipped in the snow, diverting Ethan’s concentration back to the present. Ahead a figure walked. Isabelle. His heart thudded and his groin tightened with want. He rode closer and she stopped. Nothing in her manner gave him any hint to her reaction of him. She was thinner. Tired. A surge of affection overwhelmed him. He wanted to crush her to him and kiss her senseless. Above all things, he wanted to protect her, cherish her.

‘Good day to you, Mr Harrington.’

Her pale blue eyes seemed to torch his soul. Did she have any idea how alluring her unusual eyes were? He guessed not. In none of their meetings had she shown feminine wiles. Despite that or maybe because of it, he was instantly more aware of her. ‘How are you faring?’

She raised her chin. ‘Well, for the moment.’

He dismounted and stepped towards her, thus giving Gyp the permission to leap over the snow-covered grass to sniff her boots.

She smiled and patted his head. ‘Aren’t you a handsome one?’

Ethan gazed at her, drinking in her loveliness. ‘That’s Gyp. Be careful, before you know it he’ll have you down and be licking the skin off your face.’

She chuckled and bent to tickled behind his ears. ‘Good boy.’

Ethan’s stomach clenched. He wanted the attention she gave the dog. His mind went blank as he searched for something amusing or intelligent to say. Being lost for words was strange to him, but then, he’d experienced many new things since meeting this lovely creature before him.

Isabelle straightened and looked out over the moor. ‘When is it time to turn the ewes and lambs out?’

Her questioned stunned him just as much as if she’d asked him to kiss her. ‘Pardon?’

She frowned and studied the landscape. ‘I don’t want to turn them out too soon and lose the lambs to the weather. What do you do?’

He swallowed, trying to gather his scattered thoughts. He ran a hand through his hair. ‘Um…well, I have shepherds…’

‘Oh. Yes, of course you would. How silly of me.’ She blushed and turned away.

Instinctively, he moved closer. ‘It’s too early yet. March is unpredictable. Lambs would die if we had a snowstorm, which is quite likely still. April is much better. The thaw will begin in earnest then.’ He paused, knowing he spoke too fast. Only, he didn’t want to give her the opportunity to leave.

Isabelle nodded and they fell into step together with Ethan leading Copper by the rein.

She darted him a glance. ‘Out of twenty-eight ewes we got twenty-four lambs with four sets of twins. Four ewes didn’t take with the ram.’ Her pale eyes shone with accomplishment and he clenched his hands in an effort not to reach for her. He suppressed a smile, trying to imagine his mother’s expression at Isabelle’s forthright comments. He found her candour refreshing.

‘A successful result indeed. I suggest you cull the four barren ewes. They are likely to be too old now for further use.’

‘Right. Yes, good idea.’ Her frown appeared again. ‘We lost five lambs in one night.’

‘It happens.’

‘I can’t afford to lose any more.’

‘Foxes may kill a few once the flock is turned out.’

‘Really?’ She bit her lip.

He nodded. ‘Is Farrell back?’

She made a disparaging sound. ‘Not likely. He might never come back.’

He stared at her, and she blushed again. His heart sang. Farrell could rot in a gutter somewhere as far as he was concerned. The man didn’t deserve Isabelle. He wasn’t fit to wipe her boots.

Abruptly, she stopped and turned to him. They were only a foot apart. ‘I am sorry he stole from you. Please believe me that neither I nor Hughie had anything to do with what he did.’

‘I know that.’ He wanted her so badly it hurt. But what did she want?

‘It was foolish of him.’ She glanced away and her voice lowered. ‘His hatred of you makes him do it.’

‘Hating someone for your own mistakes and inadequacies shows cowardice and a lack of responsibility. I don’t credit him with any intelligence.’

‘I’m so ashamed I married him.’ She stared down at her boots. ‘No one told me what he was like. I see now that it was intentional on their part.’

‘Whose part?’

‘Those at Peacock’s Private Workhouse.’

‘He never hurt you?’ Anger raced along his veins at the mere thought of Farrell laying one finger on her.

‘It no longer matters. I mean nothing to him. He regards me at best as unpaid help, and at worst a stranger who nags him about his whereabouts.’ She gave a humourless laugh. ‘The only time he showed emotion was when your name was spoken.’

Unable to help himself, Ethan closed the gap between them and using one finger under her chin, turned her face back to him. Her eyes widened and her breath shortened. He was overjoyed that she responded to him. ‘What Farrell does or thinks is of no concern to me. Let him hate me if that makes him feel like a man, because the whole district knows he isn’t one really. What man would leave his wife to fend alone up here?’

‘Why did you take back the land after his father died?’ she whispered and he dropped his hand away.

‘I only took part of the land back, I let him keep the farm and surroundings acres. Not that he deserve it. Farrell let the moor go to waste. He wouldn’t fire it to allow regrowth. His animals died for lack of care because he was too busy supping ale or poaching. There are a lot more reasons believe me. I believed after his father died he would keep the farm going, but he is no farmer.’

‘If you had offered to help him-’

‘He wouldn’t take my help or anyone’s.’ He looked at her mouth. ‘Anyway, enough talk of him. It is you I am concerned about.’

‘You have no need to concern yourself over me. I will pay your rent on time.’ She swallowed and he watched her slim throat work.

Ethan groaned. ‘You mistake my intentions. The rent means nothing to me. I wouldn’t take it from you.’

‘But I don’t understand?’ She bit her bottom lip. ‘Are you turning us out?’

‘No!’ He lifted his hands, alarmed that she thought him capable of doing that to her. He had to win her trust and reassure her. ‘Please, don’t worry about the rent or anything about the farm. I will help you.’

‘You will help me until Farrell returns?’ Her voice dropped low in shock.

Ethan closed his eyes in frustration. ‘Yes, until Farrell returns.’

‘You won’t report him to the police?’

His gaze roamed over her face, her unique pale eyes. To him, she was beautiful. ‘No.’

She reached out and took his hand. ‘Thank you.’

He looked down at their joined hands. ‘I very badly want to kiss you, Isabelle.’

She stiffened, but didn’t pull away.

‘Would you like that too?’

‘I…We…You…’ She sucked in a breath. ‘It is wrong.’

He tilted his head and gave her a wry smile. ‘How can it be wrong to feel like this? You do feel what we share, don’t you, Isabelle?’

She lifted her chin as though to refuse it, but her expression softened. ‘Yes.’

Ever so slowly, he lowered his head. His lips brushed the pulse beating at her temple. Ethan raised his head only inches from her face. He gazed into her eyes, waiting for her to guide him.

Amazed, he watched as she peeled off one of her gloves and very slowly raised her hand to touch his face. The simple gesture melted his bones. His loins tightened painfully. Her long fingers, roughened by work, traced the shape of his mouth. Ethan thought he would die of want. Unable to restrain himself any longer, he cupped his hands over her hips and gently pulled her against him. His gaze never left hers. He darted out his tongue and licked her fingers that covered his mouth. Surprised, she faltered. Her chest rose and fell rapidly.

‘Do you want me to stop?’

Isabelle shook her head a fraction.

It was the signal he wanted. Gathering her closer still, he kissed her eyes, her cheeks, her nose and finally found her lips. He liked that she clung to his shoulders, her fingers gripped into the material of his coat. He ran the tip of his tongue over her lips, nudging them open. Gently he probed further until she allowed full access. Their kiss deepened. His spirit soared to the sky above them. She was nectar. She was a Helen of Troy. She was
his.

They broke apart reluctantly. Ethan dragged air back into his lungs, but didn’t let go of her. His mind sang her name, his body sang with her touch. He kissed her nose and smiled. ‘Everything changes now.’

She blinked. ‘It does?’

‘Of course!’ He laughed and welcomed the release. It seemed as though he had never laughed in his life before.

She stepped back and frowned. ‘I don’t see how anything has changed. You are married and so am I.’

His smile slipped. ‘But I will take care of you now.’

She took another step back widening the distance between them. ‘I’ll not be your kept woman.’

‘I didn’t mean that-’

‘What
did
you mean then?’

His mind failed him. Christ what was wrong with him? Whenever he was in her presence, he lost all ability to think.