Piers’s head dropped. ‘Dear God, I’m sorry for causing you one moment of pain,’ he said disconsolately. ‘How can I convince you?’
‘Show me.’
He studied the curve of her mouth, remembering their kiss, and muttered, ‘I have tried.’
‘Not in that way,’ she said, sighing heavily. ‘I don’t doubt you could shower me with kisses but I need more; show me you intend to change, that you mean what you say – only then will I believe you truly love me.’
‘But I can’t be a paragon!’
‘I don’t want a paragon!’ she cried emphatically. ‘All I want is the man I have glimpsed beneath the selfish exterior – the engaging, kind, humorous man I know exists. I don’t wish to change every aspect of your character, Piers, only remove the cynical veneer you insist on hiding behind, and ask you to become a man – a man aware of his responsibilities and his place in the world, and who is willing to embrace them.’
‘I’ll do anything you ask, but please say we can return to our easy
relationship
.’
She shook her head again, and blinked away a tear. ‘If I can forgive, it will take time and there must be some distance between us.’
‘Can’t I see you?’ he asked, eventually.
‘Not alone. I cannot avoid you because we must occasionally meet in company, but I ask you not to importune me further until I choose to speak of it again.’
He uttered a deep groan and expostulated, ‘How long must I wait?’
‘I-I don’t know. Truly, I don’t … weeks; perhaps longer. I will be watching for the true Piers.’
‘I won’t fail you, my love, I swear it!’ he asseverated, a little unsteadily.
Letty, her eyes moist with tears, gave a wistful half-smile and wheeled her horse around, urging the mare to lengthen her stride into a canter.
Sir Giles set the bell at the oak door of Frampton Manor pealing and waited impatiently for a servant to answer. He found even this slight delay irksome. Caroline’s reaction to what he had to say would be unpleasant but she deserved no consideration other than politeness; her Machiavellian endeavours should have been stopped long ago. Towards his friend, however, he did feel
compunction
. Gil liked the easygoing squire and although he had never spoken to Henry about marrying his daughter, and was under no obligation to cry off formally, he thought it the honourable course. Henry, he hoped, would understand.
Every day he delayed declaring his love was purgatory and he gritted his teeth at the thought of Charles Brook touching a hair on Alyssa’s head. When Brook returned, Gil intended to expose him for the uncaring portentous fraud he was.
The door was finally opened by Simmons the butler, who recoiled at the frown darkening Sir Giles’s brow and his forbidding expression.
Momentarily flustered, he said, ‘G-good morning, Sir Giles. May I help you?’
‘I wish to see Squire Nash and then Miss Caroline, Simmons. Pray inform them I am here.’
The servant bowed, and said, ‘I am sorry, but the Squire, Mrs Nash and Miss Caroline are away from home, sir.’
Gil stared in surprise. ‘Away!’ he thundered, ‘But where? I received no word of their departure.’
‘I believe their trip was hastily arranged. Mrs Nash’s sister in Lyme has received a new carriage from London, and Mrs Nash was desirous of inspecting it,’ he explained, with a speaking lift of one eyebrow. ‘They left yesterday.’
Gil muttered an expletive under his breath. ‘When will they return?’
‘Thursday morning, sir.’
‘That is the day before the evening party, is it not?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Very well – I shall call Thursday afternoon. Please advise the squire and Miss Nash on their return.’
Gil strode back to his curricle angrily. He vented his annoyance by springing his horses and made the journey home in record time, but on entering the
hallway
at Eastcombe, he found his anger had abated, but not his frustration: Alyssa was coming to dine tomorrow evening.
‘Gil!’ cried a voice behind him. ‘You have returned at last! Oliver and I arrived half an hour ago.’ The dark-haired lady who had spoken these words robbed them of censure with an accompanying smile very much like Gil’s own. She approached with hands outstretched and added mischievously, ‘How like you not to be here to welcome your own sister.’
‘My craven apologies, Marianne,’ he said, laughing and kissing her cheek. ‘I expected you this afternoon.’ Holding her at arm’s length, he looked down at his younger sibling. ‘My dear, you look lovely – marriage and motherhood agree with you. How is my nephew?’
‘James is well and troubled only by the appearance of two new teeth this week,’ she replied, gaily. ‘I know it is not fashionable to wax lyrical about one’s own children, but he is a darling little boy; even at the tender age of eleven months, I declare he is the most intelligent child imaginable.’
‘Oh? Then that attribute must be inherited from his father.’
She tapped him playfully on the arm. ‘What an impossible tease you are! Come into the library – by now, Oliver has probably sampled most of your burgundy.’
Behind the desk situated between the library window embrasures sat a tall, powerfully built man, who was in the process of pouring burgundy into his glass.
‘Gil! Good to see you,’ said he, rising to shake hands firmly with his
brother-in
-law. Oliver waved towards the wine, and drawled, ‘I hope you don’t mind – your butler insisted I try this vintage while we waited.’
‘Do you think it tolerable?’ Gil asked, grinning. He heartily approved of this giant of a man.
‘Very! I don’t suppose you’d care to part with a bottle or two?’
‘To you? Of course!’
‘Oh! Do stop discussing wine,’ protested Marianne, good-naturedly. ‘We have more important things to speak of.’ Slipping her arm through her husband’s, she said, ‘What time does Miss Paradise arrive tomorrow?’
‘About six o’clock; I have organized an
al fresco
dinner.’
‘Excellent!’ replied his sister, clapping her hands. ‘
Al fresco
will be just the thing in this fine weather – and excessively romantic too, guaranteed to appeal to any lady.’
He chuckled, but, using the pet name by which he addressed her when they were children, said warningly, ‘Manny, no one else is allowed to be present. It must be just Alyssa and me.’
‘Oh, I would not
dream
of intruding,’ she said primly. ‘Don’t worry – Oliver and I will look forward to meeting Miss Paradise before retiring to the
diningroom
for our own dinner
à deux
, won’t we, my darling? What sort of a girl is she, Gil? Shall I like her? After what you have said in your letters, I am determined to, you know. Is she beautiful?’
Her husband sighed indulgently. ‘Must you ask so many questions, my love? You will find out tomorrow.’
‘Ah, but I need to know if
Gil
thinks she is beautiful.’
Gil hesitated, lost in thought for a moment. ‘Yes,’ he admitted finally, ‘to my eyes, she is very lovely.’
Marianne, studying her brother’s expression intently, said only, ‘She sounds altogether delightful, but what of Caroline Nash? I hope she does not expect you to offer marriage – you know my feelings regarding
her
.’
Gil raised his brows and smiled wryly. ‘As ever, you are astute. Caroline’s spite and arrogance have been revealed during recent months and I have no intention of making her an offer. Indeed, I don’t believe I ever had. I am honour bound to tell Caroline, but unfortunately the Nashes are in Lyme until Thursday.’
‘A pity she is away, but at least you have made your decision,’ said his sister, in a more sober voice. ‘I’m glad – I’ve no wish to see my brother trapped in a
loveless
marriage. For God’s sake, tell her immediately she returns, and don’t lose your chance of happiness because of that woman!’
He laughed ruefully. ‘Are my feelings so obvious?’
‘Only to me,’ she said.
‘There are other difficulties, Manny: Alyssa already has a suitor.’
‘Well, what is that to anything?’ demanded Marianne, airily. ‘If I recall correctly, I had three when I met Oliver, but he swept away all competition. Have you met him?’
‘Yes, a pompous, prosy idiot if ever I saw one,’ he replied, fiercely. ‘Charles Brook refused to come near while she was ill. A poor kind of love he has for her!’
Marianne gave a trill of laughter and her eyes twinkled at this description of Alyssa’s admirer. ‘Oh, then she must be saved from him at all costs! Don’t you agree, Oliver?’
‘Undoubtedly,’ said her husband, with feeling. ‘Miss Paradise, who sounds very agreeable, cannot be allowed to suffer at his hands. If the man is an idiot, it follows naturally he will have the most appalling taste in wine which is an
unpardonable
sin.’ He took another sip, shook his head and grinned. ‘Marry the lady quickly, Gil, and save her from the prosy ninny!’
‘If you two have finished organizing my life, I’ll go and change my boots before lunch,’ declared Gil, laughing.
He left, and Marianne made a sound of delight before hurrying over to her husband. She placed her arms around his neck and breathed, ‘Oliver! Is it not wonderfully romantic? Gil is in love – at last – and I cannot wait to meet Miss Paradise. Thank God he is not to marry Caroline, for I always dreaded he would do so! What say you? Am I right?’
‘I think you are, love,’ he said, as he enfolded her in a crushing embrace. ‘I am also intrigued to see the woman who has finally captured his heart and rescued him from the odious Miss Nash.’ He smiled slowly, and added, ‘I wonder what other consequences this extraordinary will has in store?’
The following evening, Alyssa’s carriage came to a halt in front of Eastcombe House and she gazed up in admiration. The house, faced in white Portland stone, was built on classical lines and provided an imposing as well as an aesthetically pleasing welcome. Steps rose to the main entrance and above the portico, three rows of windows overlooked the gardens.
She climbed out and was ushered into a large entrance hall and, as she removed her cloak and handed it to the waiting servant, Alyssa looked around with interest, realizing this impressive grandeur even surpassed Hawkscote’s. There was a high stuccoed ceiling, a marble fireplace and floor, and suspended above her head, two magnificent chandeliers sparkled in the candlelight. She blushed to recall she had once feared Sir Giles might use underhand methods to obtain Hawkscote; from this evidence alone, it was clear the value of his
property
far outweighed her own. The interior oozed elegance and distinction, and when Sir Giles appeared from a doorway to the right, dressed in an exquisitely cut coat, dark waistcoat and gleaming Hessians, she thought how well the house matched its owner.
He greeted her warmly and took her hand. ‘I trust you are now fully recovered?’
‘Yes, the doctor tells me my recuperation has been remarkably rapid.’
‘That is wonderful news.’ Gil’s grasp on her fingers tightened and he raised them to his lips slowly, his gaze holding hers for a long moment.
Alyssa felt her skin tingle under his touch and she gave a shiver of sensual awareness. Flustered, she stammered, ‘F-from what I have seen so far, Eastcombe is very elegant.’
‘I’m glad you approve,’ he said, smiling. ‘I have made minor changes to the interior, but most of the improvements under my stewardship can be found in the gardens, and particularly the farmland. There is only one thing Eastcombe lacks now and the burden falls squarely on me to address that omission soon.’
‘Oh?’
‘The estate needs a mistress as well as a master – I hope my wife will share the task of improving it further.’
This reminder of Miss Nash quickly dampened the thrill running through Alyssa. Not knowing exactly how to respond, she simply murmured ‘I see,’ in a flat voice before adding, ‘Is the clerk here?’
He nodded. ‘Mr Forde arrived earlier and has promised to situate himself discreetly when we dine.’
As he spoke, his appreciative gaze ran over her and Alyssa’s pulse quickened again. She knew her pale-green silk crepe dress showed her figure to advantage, the silk clinging to every curve and swishing sensuously with her every
movement
. Under his scrutiny, anticipation and desire spiralled through her and she blushed deeply.
‘Please let me to show you to the drawing-room,’ he said, ‘my sister and her husband are waiting there, anxious to meet you.’
He led the way into another elegant room decorated in yellow, with pale-gold silk curtains and matching coverings on the chairs and sofas. Gil introduced his sister and brother-in-law and Alyssa returned their friendly appraising looks; she took an instant liking to the animated Marianne and her husband, whose languid manner was belied by his keen perceptive gaze.
Marianne, kissing Alyssa on the cheek, declared effusively, ‘Gil mentioned you in his letters but I see he has been shockingly remiss and completely understated your charm.’
‘No words of mine could do Miss Paradise justice,’ said Gil, with a grin. ‘Far better to rely on Shakespeare: “
’Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and white Nature’s own sweet and cunning hand laid on.”’
‘Very apt,’ agreed his sister, ‘but why can’t men ever be troubled with recounting the details
women
are interested in?’ Alyssa laughed at this, and Marianne, eyes twinkling, continued, ‘Ah, I see you understand, Miss Paradise! I would have observed you are of average height, with a Venus-like figure and hair of glorious chestnut. Add a pair of speaking blue eyes, delightful smile and friendly manner, and only then does an image form. Unfortunately, one can never trust a man, especially one’s own brother, to report these matters assiduously. He does not understand I like to have every detail, however minor,’ complained Marianne, her prim look contradicted by the merriment in her eyes.
‘Do not let my wife put you to the blush, Miss Paradise,’ said Oliver,
indulgently
. ‘Although sadly talkative, she is harmless enough.’
‘Indeed, you are generous in your praise, but a new gown and carefully arranged hair work wonders – I promise you, I looked positively haggard a few weeks ago,’ observed Alyssa.
‘Well, thank God you recovered, but knowing something of fashion, you must take my word that your looks are out of the common way and if you had enjoyed a London season, you would have taken the place by storm. However,’ said Marianne, with a mischievous glance at her brother, ‘the
bon
ton’
s loss is our gain. You do not mind if I call you Alyssa?’
‘No, of course not.’
‘Good, for we are to be firm friends, I’m certain of it.’ Marianne sat down on the sofa and patted the empty seat beside her. ‘Let us enjoy a comfortable talk before you are obliged to keep my brother company. I’m sure Gil and Oliver won’t mind if we ignore them for a while.’
‘We shall bear up under the strain,’ replied Gil, amused. ‘But you may only monopolize Miss Paradise’s attentions until dinner, Manny—’
‘When I intend to carry you off to the diningroom, my love,’ concluded her husband.
Marianne smiled, blew her husband a saucy kiss and she was soon chatting amicably to Alyssa. Marianne’s effervescence was as infectious as it was
appealing
, and it was impossible not to warm to her. Her curiosity resulted in a great number of questions about Alyssa’s home in Oxfordshire, her parents and, most particularly, her uncle and his will. She answered them all without rancour and in return, Marianne unreservedly offered details about her own circumstances: her house near Bath, the many excellent qualities of her husband and her baby son, and ended with encomiums on her brother.
‘I love Gil dearly – he is the most affectionate of brothers – but he finds it difficult to be open in his manner and, as a consequence, can sometimes appear blunt to those who don’t know him.’
‘I thought him so at our first meeting.’
‘But he is not nearly as fierce as he appears,’ explained Marianne in an urgent whisper, ‘he is just used to being in control. You see, the obligations that came with our father’s death were thrust on Gil at a relatively young age, and he takes his responsibilities
too
seriously at times. I think he has forgotten a little impetuosity is occasionally allowed. However, I detect recent changes to the good: he has smiled more today than I have seen for years! Under that natural reticence, he feels things deeply and apart from my husband, he is the most generous man I know. He also possesses an excellent sense of humour. Have you discovered it yet?’
Alyssa knew Marianne was only expressing sibling affection in her exuberant way, but the knowledge Gil was to marry Miss Nash was painful enough without the added torment of hearing his qualities extolled – it only reminded her he was unattainable.
Unable to voice these feelings, Alyssa glanced at Gil, who was talking to his brother-in-law on the other side of the room, and replied simply, ‘Your brother’s dry wit is amusing, and he has shown me kindness in many ways. During my illness, he often sent flowers or some other small token, and I appreciated his thoughtful gestures. He also found time to sit with me and run Hawkscote on my behalf.’ Gil, who saw her looking towards him, raised his brows quizzically and smiled; Alyssa blushed and gave a shy smile in response.
This exchange was watched with furtive interest by Marianne. ‘I am not surprised to hear of his kindness,’ she replied. ‘His generosity towards those he holds in affection is marked, but there must be a particular reason for his
attentiveness
to you. And it cannot be simply because of the will – that is a business matter.’
Alyssa sighed and murmured, ‘Then I expect it is because I am his neighbour, and my uncle was his friend.’
Marianne looked at her companion in surprise: Alyssa obviously had no notion Gil loved her. Really, her brother should stop being honourable to Caroline Nash and kiss Alyssa passionately instead! She would not resist if she cared, whatever barriers eventually had to be overcome. And, in Marianne’s
opinion
, other obstacles would melt away like snow on a spring day; the look Alyssa had just bestowed on Gil was certainly not that of a woman pining for an absent suitor. Marianne hid a smile. The signs Alyssa was in love with her brother were there so perhaps she could help matters along with a few well-chosen words.
‘I hardly think Gil would show such considerate behaviour to every neighbour – old Mr Jarvis didn’t receive flowers when he was ill,’ ventured Marianne gaily. ‘No, you are something quite special in my brother’s eyes, Alyssa.’
Alyssa’s gaze flew back to Marianne’s and, in obvious bewilderment, she replied faintly, ‘Oh! Do you think so? Something he said made me wonder, but I was ill and thought I had misheard….’ With a helpless gesture, she said, ‘But you
cannot
be right, there is Miss Nash to consider.’ Alyssa grimaced. ‘Your brother’s kindness earned an admonishment from her.’
‘Pooh!’ said Marianne, dismissively. ‘Do not regard it. Miss Nash is a designing creature, and I do not like her!’
Alyssa, her eyes widening at Marianne expressing her opinion of her brother’s
amour
so decidedly, replied, ‘I confess, neither do I, but I understood Sir Giles … that he intends to.…’ She stopped, confused as to how to continue.
‘Make an offer of marriage?’ suggested Marianne.
Alyssa nodded.
‘Miss Nash would have everyone believe it, but I know my brother does not care for her,’ replied Marianne, shrugging an elegant shoulder. ‘Let me say this: Gil has been sleepwalking into the web Caroline has woven but will do so no longer. He is an honourable man, but not a foolish one, and he will not propose marriage where there is no love or respect. Matters between them will soon be resolved, Alyssa, and afterwards’ – she smiled – ‘well, I wash my hands of my brother if he does not sort out his affairs urgently!’
Alyssa listened to Marianne in silence. She had tried to accept Gil’s marriage to Caroline but in truth, she did not want to envisage her own future without him. She remembered her advice to Piers –
you will desire
to be with the person
you love every minute of every day
– and realized the words must have been unconsciously wrung from her own heart: she loved Gil.
He was the only man to excite her anticipation and longing each time he strode into a room. By virtue of a glance, Alyssa’s heart beat more rapidly and she felt the warm glow of desire. Wherever she was, whatever she was doing, the mere thought of him sent quivers of need racing through her body. He could appear blunt and overbearing sometimes, but he had also demonstrated patience, generosity, humour, compassion, appreciation rather than disapproval of her spirit, and rare warmth of character and, notwithstanding their verbal sparring, she would be very happy in his love.
Her feelings could no longer be denied. She wanted him. Needed him. Desperately. And yet it had seemed that could never be … at least, not until this moment, when Marianne’s words suggested he was not to marry Caroline after all. Alyssa, allowing herself a brief glimpse of a future where she luxuriated in Gil’s love, ached with longing but was startled out of dreamy abstraction by his deep voice reverberating nearby.
He stood smiling down at her, and saying, ‘Manny, I must take Alyssa away – dinner is ready.’
‘Oh no!’ protested Marianne, ‘So soon?’
‘Yes, if we are not to lose the light or the weather.’
He saw Alyssa’s quizzical look. ‘I took the liberty of arranging dinner to be served in the rose garden.’ When she did not immediately reply, he added anxiously, ‘You expressed a desire to see it.’
‘Oh, that will be wonderful!’ she cried.
‘I knew you would appreciate Gil’s plan,’ laughed Marianne, rising to her feet. ‘I see my husband is waiting to carry me off, just as he promised. Enjoy your
al
fresco
dinner!’
Marianne and Oliver left and Gil drew Alyssa’s arm through his to lead her out on to the terrace. It was the end of a warm summer’s day, and the intense heat had begun to lose its oppressive edge. The sun dipped in a blue sky marred only by wispy clouds, and the drone of insects filled the air. Alyssa breathed deeply and sighed; it was a perfect setting with Gil at her side and whatever happened, she would always treasure these moments.
They walked across the lawn to the rose garden, where neat gravel paths interspersed with blooms of every colour. A table and two chairs were set in one of the secluded arbours and they sat down to dinner. Later, Alyssa was to marvel at the unobtrusive way the food was served and the covers removed after each course. It was an open yet intensely intimate setting, enhanced by the exquisitely prepared menu of soup jardinière, turbot, and roast quail. Conversation was
lighthearted
and humorous and, as she hesitated between apricot soufflé, pineapple jelly and elderflower ice cream for dessert, Alyssa was conscious of a childlike wish for the evening never to end.
So was Gil. He wanted to please Alyssa with a sublime evening and, judging by her smiles and demeanour, he had succeeded. Even the weather had been kind and silently, he damned Caroline’s unexpected departure and wished he were free. Perhaps if he could show Alyssa even a whit of how he felt, it might allay his frustration until doing his duty by Squire Nash. Leaning back in his chair, he decided to wait for an opportunity, taking enjoyment from the expressions
flitting
across her features and the sparkle of pleasure in her eyes.
‘Hmm … I think I
must
choose the apricot soufflé, but it is a difficult decision when every morsel has been superb,’ said Alyssa. ‘You employ an excellent chef, Sir Giles.’