The two men chatted amiably for a few minutes before parting. The earl continued on his way through the woods to the South Gate, more for the exercise now than for the beauty of the scenery. His thoughts were mere repetitions of those he’d been having all afternoon, running through his head like a chant. No decisions were made, and no flashes of inspiration came to him. He was going to have to leave Cutsdean sooner or later, and he far preferred later, but his excuse for staying had run out. Vanessa was unlikely to press him to leave, certainly, though she might make assumptions about his staying that were not completely warranted. As he let Satin out for one last stretch of gallop before he reached the stable, he chose to put off any decision for a few more days. But the decision was taken from him as he rode into the stable yard. A liveried groom from St. Aldwyns was awaiting his arrival there, with a sealed letter in his mother’s writing.
“Trouble, Tom?” he asked as he hastily dismounted and extended his hand for the missive.
“I’m afraid so, milord. Your brother’s taken a bad tumble and her ladyship sent me off to bring you post haste.”
Fear instantly clutched at Alvescot’s heart. He was inordinately fond of his younger brother Charles, though twelve years separated them in age and their temperaments were so entirely different. Charles was a scholar, and rather shy and retiring. A good sort of lad.
Alvescot broke the seal and hastily scanned the contents of the letter. Oh, Lord, there was a fair chance the boy might die! His mother wrote that Charles had been coming home from a friend’s house the previous evening when his horse had stumbled in a hole and thrown his rider, or so they assumed. Charles had apparently hit his head against a tree in falling and had been discovered after his horse returned to the stables alone. The doctor had come immediately, but Charles remained unconscious, his breathing slow and irregular, with very little the doctor could do but wait to see what transpired.
“Alert the others that I will be leaving within the hour, Tom. I'll take the curricle, with post horses after the second stage. Stay here the night and follow with the carriage in the morning at a reasonable pace. Bibury will come with you; I won’t need him if I drive straight through.” Alvescot turned to go, but paused. “And thank you, Tom. You’ve ridden hard. They’ll make you comfortable here.”
“Yes, milord. I’m sorry about Mr. Charles.”
The earl nodded. “Is my sister back from visiting in Kent?”
“Got back just two days ago, milord.”
Well, that was something. Janine would be a great support to his mother during the trying time. Alvescot tried not to think about what might have happened since the groom left St. Aldwyns. His mother’s note was marked nine o’clock in the morning; they had waited to see if there was any change before sending someone to fetch him.
With luck, he could be home some time before midnight. It would depend on how quickly changes could be made at the posting houses, how good the posting horses themselves were. His long-legged stride carried him rapidly to the house where he asked a footman to find Mrs. Damery and send her to his room, if she would be so kind.
Bibury was just arranging some cravats in the drawer of a mahogany bureau when the earl entered. He knew there was something amiss by the stricken look on Alvescot’s face, but waited to be told.
“Charles has taken a bad fall and hasn’t regained consciousness since last night,” Alvescot informed him briefly. “I leave immediately. You can follow in the carriage with the others in the morning. I won’t need to take much with me—a driving cape, an extra pair of driving gloves, a carriage rug. I’ll leave money for you to take care of the vails, if you will.”
“Certainly, milord. But you’ll not be wanting to stop for food and drink on the road. Let me get a parcel from the kitchen for you to carry with you.”
“If you wish,” Alvescot answered absently as he perused the letter once more and carefully folded it to place in his pocket. He allowed his gaze to wander over the Blue Velvet Bedroom, trying to clear his mind enough that he didn’t leave something behind that he’d need for the journey or immediately upon his return to his own home. Bibury had set aside his toilet articles for him, and glanced up from the pile of correspondence on the writing table with a questioning look. “Yes,” Alvescot said, “I’d best take all that with me. I don’t want to have to sort it out now.”
There was a tap on the door and Bibury went to answer it. Vanessa stood there somewhat uncertainly, her eyes taking in the preparations for departure before coming to rest on Alvescot.
“Please come in,” he offered. “Thank you for coming. My brother’s had a dangerous accident and I have to leave immediately. Will you give these to the children? I’m afraid I won’t have time to see them before I go.”
Vanessa accepted the two packages, though she felt a little numb. “I’m so sorry about your brother. How did you learn of it?”
“My mother sent a groom from St. Aldwyns. I hope you won’t mind my people spending the night here.”
“Of course not! I wish there were something I could do.” He had spoken of his brother once or twice and she knew he was fond of the young man. Her hands were filled or she strongly suspected she’d be wringing them.
Alvescot turned to the valet to say, “If you would just get me a parcel from the kitchen . . .”
“Certainly, milord.”
When Bibury had left, prudently closing the door behind himself, Alvescot stepped closer to Vanessa, reaching out to touch her pale cheek with a gentle finger. “Don’t worry, my dear. Charles is a hardy lad. I have every confidence he’ll pull through. But he’s been unconscious since last night and I really must go home. I had intended to stay a little longer.”
“Well, that’s out of the question now,” she said sadly. “I think, though, if I am not mistaken, that you are wholly convinced Paul is handling matters well.”
“Yes, I told him so today.” At her look of surprise, he confessed, “I couldn’t very well do otherwise. The poor fellow must already think I’m particularly slow-witted. We met in the woods when I was riding.”
Vanessa stared down at the packages in her hands. “I will, of course, continue to advise you of any matters that would concern you as co-trustee. I hope you’ll let me know how your brother does.”
“Yes, and any reply I have from my solicitor on Mr. Curtiss.” He rested his hands lightly on her shoulders. In his current state of worry over his brother’s condition he wished to make no statement which would be misunderstood, but he could not leave her without saying something.
“Vanessa, I greatly admire the way you’ve taken hold here. Frederick would be no less impressed than I am. I know you’ll press on in trying to get rid of your guests; I had intended to help you. I learned in Basing-stoke this morning that Hortense’s property could be available soon. The fellow who rents it doesn’t come there much any more and the lease is almost out. Insist on her going back there, my dear. I know it’s not what your parents want you to do, but you know it’s right and I trust you to follow your own conscience in the matter.”
She smiled bleakly. “My conscience or my inclination.”
“Either is valid. Cutsdean is for you and your children.”
He dropped his hands from her shoulders and paced toward the window, stooping to pick up a pen that had rolled off the writing table. Outlined against the window he already looked a distance removed from her. His voice, too, seemed to have changed when he spoke.
“You have two lovely children, Vanessa. Sometimes I think they need a slightly firmer hand, but . . .” He shrugged and the rueful twist to his lips was hard to discern against the background of brightness outside. “With your example they can scarcely go wrong.”
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“As to the others,” he remarked, his tone becoming firmer, “I would do everything in my power to push William and Louisa together. When I’m gone, Mabel should see the wisdom of seeking a marriage in that quarter again. And in their own way
, I think they are quite fond of one another.”
“Yes.”
“Don’t let Edward stay if the others leave. I don’t like to think of you here alone with him.”
“No, I won’t.” It was easy enough to promise with him standing there. She could absorb the confidence and courage he naturally exuded. But what of when he was gone?
Alvescot stepped away from the window, setting down the pen before he approached her. “I don’t mean to dictate to you, my dear. These are just my thoughts on your situation and I could hardly leave without sharing them with you.”
“I realize that.”
“Good.” He stood close to her now, so close his arm touched hers and his breath whispered in her hair. “You’re quite a remarkable woman, Vanessa. I wish I could stay longer.”
“Yes, I do, too.”
They could hear the sound of footsteps approaching in the hall and he quickly leaned to kiss her. She was so surprised she hadn’t time to respond before he had straightened and called to the valet to enter.
Alvescot guided her past a curious Bibury and out into the hall. “Give my love to the children, and tell them I’m sorry I had to leave so abruptly. As to the others . . . welll, you will know what to say. Good-bye, Vanessa.”
She was very aware that he had not said he would be back, soon or ever. Forcing a smile to her lips which almost reached her eyes, she said, “Good-bye, James. We’ve enjoyed having you. I hope your brother will be well soon.” And then she turned away from him and walked purposefully down the hall and around the corner.
Though she would have preferred to go to her own room for the chance to be alone, she headed instead for the schoolroom. There were the packages she still carried to be delivered to the children, and the schoolroom window looked out over the stables.
For John, there was a country landscape operated by sand, and for Catherine, an elegantly dressed doll which she clasped so tightly to her Vanessa feared she would break it.
“Why didn’t he bring them himself?” John asked, disappointed.
Vanessa explained, adding, “I thought we might watch for him from the window and you could wave good-bye.”
“He won’t see us way up here. If he’s in a hurry, he won’t think to look up at the schoolroom.” John’s little face trembled with hurt.
“He’ll think of it,” Vanessa replied firmly, gathering the children in her arms to stand at the window.
It was several minutes before they saw Alvescot’s tall form striding toward the stables, but his curricle was ready and it took but a moment to stow away the few items he was taking with him. His groom hopped up behind and Alvescot urged the horses forward.
Perhaps remembering his arrival, he kept them at a decorous pace along the drive, giving them his full attention. As the carriage drew closer to the house, Vanessa began to fear that he would not, after all, think to look up at the schoolroom.
She could feel the nervous anxiety of her son, wriggling in her arms, and the bubbling excitement of her daughter, already waving frantically at the preoccupied man. And then, almost at the last moment when it was possible, Alvescot raised his gaze to the house, looking directly to the second story where they stood. He touched his whip to his hat in a wide gesture of farewell, smiling broadly at the children’s flapping hands and glowing faces. Vanessa’s arms were full and she could only watch him pass by, rounding the curve of the house to disappear from her life.
In a choked voice she said, as she set the children once more on the floor, “You see. He didn’t forget you.”
“Will he be back soon?” John demanded.
“No, I’m afraid not, my love. He was here on business and his business is finished now, but he won’t forget you. You’re his godchildren and he told me once that he will always take an interest in your welfare. When you’re older, John, you will go to visit him sometimes at St. Aldwyns, just as he came here when he was a boy. Would you like that?”
The child’s eyes rested seriously on her face. “Would you go with me?”
“Oh, no. This will be when you’re old enough to travel alone, when you’re a big boy and don’t want your mother tagging along on your adventures.”
That time was not yet really within John’s comprehension and he looked doubtful. “Well, perhaps I shall like to go alone one day. I would rather that we all went together to visit him there. Don’t you want to go?”
Vanessa bit her lip. “Yes, I’d like to see St. Aldwyns one day. Will you show me how your landscape works, John?”
They were so easy to distract when they were young. Catherine was already deep in conversation with her doll and John willingly led the way to his new toy. Vanessa stayed with them until it was time to dress for dinner.
Chapter Thirteen
“He’s gone?” Mabel asked, incredulous. “You must be mistaken, Vanessa! He cannot simply have left. Why, only this morning he presented my daughter with a most extravagant parasol. A very telling gift, I assure you. He cannot simply have left without speaking to her.”
Vanessa repeated the explanation she had just given, trying to be patient.
“I see how it is!” Mabel exclaimed. “He will return at the first possible moment to speak with Louisa.”
“Lord Alvescot did not mention returning at all.”
“But he shall, of course. He shall return and make good on his implicit promise to Louisa.”
Her daughter sat twisting her long, shapely hands in her lap, unable to meet anyone’s gaze, but saying as forcefully as she could, “There was no promise, Mama. Lord Alvescot bought me the parasol because I had helped him choose presents for the children. His present to little Catherine is no sort of promise. Nor was his present to me.”
Hortense snorted, glaring at the entire company in turn. “You’re fools, all of you. That’s the last we’ll see of the man, and good riddance. He did nothing but disrupt the household from the day of his arrival. He was not particularly agreeable even as a child, and as a man he suffers from too great an opinion of his own consequence.”
“But he’s an earl,” William almost yelped. “An earl is of the highest consequence. Well, perhaps not the highest, but certainly quite high. Above a viscount or a baron, you know.” This defense of Alvescot’s nobility had nothing to do with his own feelings for the man, for he continued angrily, “Of course, he was presumptuous in quite another way, imposing on his relationship with certain members of this household by giving them gifts. That is another matter altogether. One cannot think it was prudent for a man of his standing to be toying with the affections of a well-bred young woman when he had no intention of offering her marriage.”
Edward regarded William with an ugly, sardonic curl to his lips. “And you, of course, are far above that sort of thing, are you, Oldcastle? Your prudence is your most remarkable virtue, I swear.”
William flushed hotly at this barb, but said nothing, turning aside from the group to shamble toward the windows. The others continued their bickering while Vanessa observed them in a remote kind of way. Without Alvescot there to add some dignity to the gathering, she was seeing all of them in a much harsher light than she was used to. Before he had come, she had considered them her responsibility, her family obligation, her duty to Frederick and her own parents. Now they all stood out in glaring relief as an uncommonly trying lot of people.
But she didn’t know if she had the courage to rid herself of them. Her mother-in-law, wrapped so successfully in her grande dame attitude, would not be easy to convince that it was time her “visit” ended. And if they were all to leave, miraculously, wouldn’t Vanessa be left almost too much to her own devices?
Somehow the thought of taking meals in the enormous dining room alone, of wandering through the house without running into another soul, was rather uunerving just now. Quarrelsome as they were, they did manage to keep the loneliness at bay for her—when she was with them. It wasn’t easy to concentrate on your disappointments when one or another of them was constantly
impinging on your thoughts. They did, after all, serve some small purpose at Cutsdean.
It was all very well for Alvescot to tell her to get rid of them—and then take off for his own home. Vanessa felt guilty about resenting this, especially when his brother was dangerously ill, but if he had wanted to, he could have said he would be back. No, he had purposely said nothing, of that she was sure. He may have found her pleasant, or even attractive, but he had no intention of pursuing the acquaintance beyond what his connection to her dictated.
Later, as she lay in bed, she wasn’t sure how she made it through the meal and the long evening. She could see that her guests were gradually coming to terms with Alvescot’s departure. Hortense was smug; Mabel was indignant but beginning to understand the consequences. Louisa was relieved, though William was not as yet prepared to forgive her for the earl’s attentions. And Edward. Edward was sure this reopened the possibility Vanessa would pay some attention to him, perhaps even be won over by his charm. Couldn’t any of them see that his leaving was the worst thing that could have happened?
Cutsdean, which had seemed to come alive for her during his stay, was suddenly flat once again. In fact, it would seem almost intolerable, except for those hours she spent with the children. How she would miss him! The evenings, when he wasn’t there to talk with her, or the mornings, when there was no one to spar with over breakfast. She remembered the rides when they had laughed together, but always her mind came back to those two times in the Morning Room when they had actually been in physical contact with one another. Strange, what that had done to her.
Vanessa was not in the habit of thinking of men in quite the physical way that those two occasions had prompted her to do. Not that there was anything overtly sensual in those two innocent touchings. Holding hands could hardly be considered a great intimacy! Compared with her marital relations with her husband they were as a drop of water to the ocean. But like the drop of water, they were of the same substance. Else why that surprising, fleeting kiss?
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