It had become very evident over the course of my stay at Wakefield Manor that Mary Ann and Harry had grown up as friends much the way Reeve and I had. They were very comfortable together, with dozens of shared memories and similar tastes.
Mary Ann was all in favor of Harry’s becoming a doctor and as we discussed Harry’s future, she waxed indignant over Lord Bradford’s refusal to let his son go to London to get the proper training.
“Harry is the sort of person who
should
be a doctor,” she declared vigorously as she paused between bites of lobster patties. ”He has always cared about people.”
Harry put his hand over his breast. “Thank you, Mary Ann.”
“It’s very important that you get the proper training,” she said, giving him an impish smile. ”Remember those noxious brews you used to mix up when we were children?” She turned to me. ”He would actually try to get me to drink them. He called them tonics!”
Harry said in a mock injured tone, “You would have been much stronger if you had taken them.”
“Hah,” Mary Ann said. ”I would probably have been dead.”
I listened to them, and smiled, and wondered how two brothers could be as different as Robert and Harry.
Suddenly I remembered what Robert had said while we were dancing and turned to Reeve to ask, “Who were the Sabine women?”
Reeve choked on his lobster patty.
“Who was talking to you about the Sabine women?” he asked when he had swallowed some champagne and got his breath back.
“Never mind,” I said. ”Who were they?”
Reeve glanced at Harry.
“She asked you, not me,” Harry replied.
Reeve patted his lips with his napkin. “The Sabines were a tribe of people who lived on the outskirts of Rome in the early days of the empire. They were eventually conquered by Rome and lost their national identity,” he said.
Mary Ann was interested now. “But what happened to their women?”
Reeve took another swallow of champagne. “I believe that when the battle that defeated the Sabines was over, their women suffered what one would call a “fate worse man death’ at the hands of the Roman soldiers.”
The two men looked at each other.
“In other words, they were raped,” I said.
Reeve sighed. “In other words, they were raped.”
Mary Ann and I glared at our two escorts.
“Men are so disgusting,” Mary Ann said.
“Wait a minute,” Harry protested. ”Just a minute ago, I was someone who cared about people.”
A dimple dented Mary Ann’s cheek and her large brown eyes softened. “I didn’t mean you, Harry.”
“I should think not,” Harry said huffily. ”Nor do I think it is proper to be discussing such a matter with young ladies.”
“Be careful, Harry,” I warned. ”You’re beginning to sound like your father.”
Reeve gave me a penetrating look. “I still wonder who mentioned the subject to you, Deb.”
“Oh, it’s just something I came upon in a book,” I said airily.
He did not look as if he believed me, but he held his tongue.
The rest of the dance went by very pleasantly. Mama danced as much as I did—twice with Lord Bradford, I noticed. She looked like a girl and was obviously having such a wonderful time that I didn’t have the heart to mention to her that Lord Bradford’s preference for her might lead to gossip.
After the musicians had played the last dance, and the guests who had traveled to the ball were awaiting their chaises, Reeve and I stood in the front hall to bid them farewell.
“I will call upon you as soon as I have heard from my uncle,” my brother repeated as he prepared to leave with the Swales, and this time I found within myself less resistance to seeing him again.
“Very we“ I said. ”Just send word so that I will be sure to be at home.”
“Richard,” Charlotte called, ”are you coming?’
“Yes,” he returned. Then he reached out, took my hand, and gave it a brief squeeze. ”I would very much like to have a sister, Deborah,” he said. ’Try not to think too ill of me, will you?”
He was gone, leaving me with all sorts of conflicting emotions churning around in my heart.
I felt Reeve looming beside me.
“It was Robert, wasn’t it?” he said.
I stared at him in bewilderment.
“It was Robert who mentioned the Sabine women.”
I sighed. “Yes.”
“Stay away from him, Deb. I don’t want his hatred of me to spill over onto you.”
I thought that it was already too late for that, but I refrained from saying so. I smiled. “Don’t worry, Reeve. I have no intention of coming within ten feet of your cousin if I can help it. I think there’s something wrong with him.”
Reeve said, “His temper is volatile. Even as a child, he was subject to fits of blind, unreasoning rage. But Bernard could usually control him then. As he has gotten older he has gotten more and more out of hand.”
“It is hard to believe that he and Harry are brothers,” I said. ”One is so gentle and the other is so violent.”
Lady Sophia was approaching us with her bald-headed friend, and Reeve heaved an impatient sigh.
I said politely, “The dance was a huge success, Lady Sophia. Everyone had a wonderful time.”
She actually smiled at me. “If there’s one thing I know how to do, gel, it’s put on a dance. Now, Crumly, it’s time you were seeking your bed. You’re too old to be up past midnight.”
The old man took my hand in his age-spotted one and patted it a half a dozen times. He looked at Reeve. “Beautiful girl you’ve got yourself, boy. I’ve always liked ‘em tall and willowy, myself.”
Mr. Crumly was short, and his stomach was that of a woman six months pregnant.
“Thank you, sir,” Reeve said gravely.
With difficulty, I refrained from rolling my eyes.
“Good night, Lady Sophia,” I said sweetly. ”Good night, Mr. Crumly.”
The two old people moved off, and five minutes later I followed them upstairs. I had had little rest the night before, and I was tired. Within ten minutes, I was fast asleep.
I SLEPT LATE AND SO MISSED BREAKFAST THE
following morning, which I later learned had been attended only by the gentlemen in the house. By the time I arrived downstairs at eleven most of the other ladies were beginning to make their belated appearances as well, and by one o’clock all of the ball guests had departed, leaving only the house party to gather in the dining room for luncheon.
Lady Sophia was in fine fettle, reliving the triumphs of the previous evening’s dance, for which she took all the credit. The rest of us were content to listen to her and make noises of agreement when they were called for.
When luncheon was over, Lord Bradford asked Reeve and me if he could speak to us privately in the library. Reeve quirked an eyebrow at me, and I nodded that I understood the time had come for us to present Lord Bradford with our demand for him to relinquish his hold on Reeve’s inheritance.
The library at Wakefield Manor was paneled in warm chestnut wood and, like the rest of the rooms in the charming old house; it was lovely without being overwhelming. There were a few occasional chairs set in front of the large carved fireplace, and Lord Bradford gestured Reeve and me to take a seat.
“I thought it was time for the three of us to have a talk about your upcoming marriage,” Lord Bradford began pleasantly once we were all sitting facing each other. ”I have told the both of you separately how pleased I am with your choice, Reeve, but don’t you think it is time that you set a date for your nuptials? There was a good deal of curiosity expressed upon that subject last night. I’m sure you were questioned about it as well as me.”
“We would very much like to set a date, sir,” Reeve returned in an equally pleasant tone. ”There is just one small detail that is holding us up.”
I had my hands clasped together tightly in my lap. The idea that I tell Lord Bradford that I wouldn’t marry Reeve unless he had control of his money suddenly seemed far less brilliant to me than it had originally. There was something about sitting in this charming library and confronting the man himself with such a demand that was rather daunting.
I shot Reeve a look that was a blatant plea for help.
He nodded faintly, turned to his cousin, and said in a steady voice, “You see, Bernard, Deb wants to live at Ambersley. Well, you can hardly blame her, can you? She grew up in the neighborhood there. All her friends are there. She’s comfortable there.” The line of Reeve’s mouth became very grim, and suddenly he looked older than his twenty-four years. “But I won’t live there if I’m not the master. I haven’t lived there since my father died, and I won’t live there now. Not under the humiliating conditions imposed upon me by that blasted will.
So, unless you see fit to give me control of my money, Bernard, Deb and I are likely to remain unmarried until I turn twenty-six.”
I was impressed. Reeve had done an excellent job of stating the case, I thought. I flashed him a quick, approving smile.
Lord Bradford looked surprised. “But I thought I told you that I would turn over half your money to you upon your marriage, Reeve. Did you perhaps misunderstand me? There will be no problem with your living at Ambersley as your own master.”
Some of Reeve’s dignity deserted him as he ran agitated fingers through his hair, causing it to fall across his forehead in a most Corsair-like way. He scowled. “Why do I have to wait until we get married, Bernard? Why can’t I have my money now? That way I can get Ambersley ready for Deb.”
“To my knowledge, Ambersley is in perfect repair, Reeve,” Lord Bradford said in a measured tone.
Once more Reeve and I exchanged glances. This interview was definitely not going the way we had planned it.
Well, I thought, it was my turn to weigh in. I raised my chin and said bravely, “Lord Bradford, I have decided that I am not going to marry Reeve unless he has control of his inheritance first.”
He looked at me with interest. “And why is that, Miss Woodly?”
I replied promptly, “Because I think it was terribly unfair of his father to make such a will in the first place. I think Reeve would be a wonderful landlord, and it has been deeply humiliating for him not to have charge of his own inheritance.” I had a brilliant idea and sat up straighter in my chair. “I have no dowry to bring to Reeve, and this is going to be my contribution to our union. I want him to have his inheritance.”
“But he will have it,” Lord Bradford repeated. “As soon as you are married.”
The two of us glared at him.
“Damn it, Bernard,” Reeve said. ”Why are you being so obstinate?”
Lord Bradford folded his arms across his chest and looked from one of us to the other. “For how long have you two known each other?” he asked.
This change of subject bewildered me. “I came to live at Hawthorne Cottage when I was three,” I said. “Reeve was seven.”
“And you played together as children?” Lord Bradford asked.
Reeve shrugged. “We did when Deb got a little older. She was always a game ‘un, even when she was a babe.”
“Hmmm,” said Lord Bradford.
Reeve and I exchanged uncertain looks. What was going on here?
Then Lord Bradford said in a soft, dangerous-sounding voice, “Is it at all possible that the two of you are trying to fool me with a mock engagement?”
My eyes and Reeve’s met in sharp alarm.
“Aha,” said Lord Bradford. ”So that is it.”
“That’s not it at all, Bernard,” Reeve said forcefully. ”Deb and I love each other. Don’t we, Deb?”
I nodded vigorously.
“Perhaps you do,” Lord Bradford said. ”I hope you do. For one thing is very certain, Reeve. You are going to marry each other.”
My mouth dropped open.
“This engagement has gone too far for you to cry off now,” Lord Bradford continued grimly. ”It has been published in the papers. Deborah has been introduced in London as your fiancée, and she has been visiting here in the same capacity. The scandal should either of you cry off would be enormous. I will not have the Lambeth name subjected to such a public disgrace.”
My brain was in a whirl. This was not at all what we had expected to happen.
I blurted out, “But what if we both said that we had discovered we would not suit?”
Implacably, Lord Bradford shook his head. “It’s too late for that.” He turned to Reeve. “I will hold to my side of the bargain, Reeve. I will turn over to you half of your money once the marriage is accomplished. But if you cry off, you will not get one single farthing out of me over your allowance until you are twenty-six. Is that perfectly clear?”
Reeve’s dark eyes were shooting black fire. “Yes, Bernard, it is perfectly clear.”
“I will be happy to hold the marriage here at Wake-field,” Bernard said. ”Shall we say in two weeks’ time?”
“Damn it, Bernard,” Reeve shouted. ”I am sick to death of you running my life for me!”
“Marry Deborah and you may run your own life,” Bernard said pleasantly. ”Think about that, Reeve.” He stood up. ”Now, if you will excuse me, I have some work to do. I’m sure the two of you have things to talk about.”
“Come on, Deb,” Reeve muttered, and stalked to the door with me trailing behind him. We went out into the hall and stood looking at each other, neither of us knowing what to say.
“Let’s ride out to Charles Island,” Reeve said. ”Bernard is right. We need to talk.”
“I’ll change my dress,” I said, and ran upstairs to my room.
My mind was in a whirl. What were we going to do? Neither of us had ever dreamed that Bernard would call our bluff.
It was blackmail, I thought indignantly as I put on my riding dress. Blackmail, pure and simple.
My temper was as hot as Reeve’s as I went down to the stable to meet him. Bernard was a thoroughly horrible man, I thought. How dare he issue us such an ultimatum?
It was also extremely humiliating that he had seen through our scheme so easily.
What in the name of God were Reeve and I going to do?
The sky was dark and overcast when I met Reeve in the stable, and the head groom warned us not to go out, that a storm was blowing in from the Channel. Neither Reeve nor I was in a mood to listen to advice, however, and we rode out under the heavy clouds, along the road that led south to the village of Fair Haven and the sand causeway that would take us to Charles Island.
“God damn Bernard,” Reeve said viciously as we started off together along the road. ”He always manages to put me in the wrong.”
It was true. Once more Lord Bradford had put Reeve into a position where his back was to the wall.
I said unhappily, “I suppose we should have foreseen that he would suspect something when we demanded the money before the marriage.”
“But why the bloody hell is he so intent on getting me married?” Reeve said explosively.
“I don’t know,” I said. ”It is some quirk he has gotten into his brain, I suppose.”
The wind blew stronger as we approached the Channel, but neither of us was in a mood to return to the manor. We were halfway over the causeway when the first drops of rain began to fall. A minute later, the heavens opened. Thunder rolled and lightning flashed farther out over the water.
“Wonderful,” Reeve said through his teeth. ”This is just what we need.”
I raised my voice to be heard above the pelting I rain. “We’ve got to get out of the lightning, Reeve!” j.
“It’s low tide; let’s head for Rupert’s Cave,” he ’
•
shouted back. He put his horse into a gallop, and I followed close behind. Within a few minutes we had come to the stony, south side of the island, with its high rocky cliff towering above the water. By this time I was drenched through to my skin and the thunder and lightning were coming uncomfortably close to shore.
Rupert’s Cave was high enough to accommodate the horses as well as us, and we were all under cover by the time the thunderstorm broke over the island. The rain had been warm but it was cool within the cave and I shivered with the chill of my wet clothes.
We moved up against the wall of the cave, away from the small rivulet of water that ran down its middle, and Reeve took off his jacket and hung it across my shoulders. “It’s wet, but it’s better than nothing,” he said.
Outside the cave the thunder crashed.
Reeve looked down at me. His face was wet with rain, and drops clung to his lashes. He said, “Do you know, I’ve been thinking, Deb, that perhaps our getting married wouldn’t be so terrible a thing after all.”
I stared at him in astonishment.
“Think about it yourself,” he urged. ”I would get my money and you“—he gave me a charming, crooked smile—”you would get all the horses you wanted to ride.”
I pulled his wet jacket more closely around me, and said impatiently, “Reeve, there is more to marriage than that!”
“I know there is.” We were standing just within the entrance to the cave, with the horses behind us. Between the rolls of thunder, the sound of the rain beating on the rocks of the shore was very loud. Reeve took out his damp handkerchief, took my chin in his hand and carefully dried my upturned face. Then, still holding my chin with his long fingers, he said coaxingly, “I think you and I would deal together very well in other ways, too, Deb.”
Then he bent his head and his mouth came down on mine.
I was totally unprepared for such an action on his part, and I went perfectly still with the shock of it. A crack of thunder split the heavens just outside the cave, and I jumped. His mouth did not release mine, but his hands spread themselves on my back and pulled me closer to him. We were both soaked to the skin, and as our bodies pressed together and I felt the heat of his skin scorching into mine, it was as if we had no clothes on at all. His lips on mine hardened, exerted pressure, and opened my mouth. Then his tongue entered between my teeth.
I had never felt anything remotely like this before in my life. My knees buckled, and I put my arms around him to keep myself from falling down. The muscles in his back under his soaked shirt were hard and defined under my outstretched hands.
His lips left my mouth and trailed a train of kisses along my cheek to my ear. He said huskily. “Deb, darling, you are definitely not a little girl anymore.”
I couldn’t say a word.
He held me away from him and looked down into my face.