by Sandra Heath
She stared at him. “No, it can’t be so ...”
“It is so.” He put his hand gently to her cheek, his thumb moving softly against her skin. “They are as perfect a match as we, Christina, for William adores London, revels in the Season, and would sally forth to every occasion, given the chance. Believe me, my darling, for every word I’ve told you is the truth.” He drew her close again, kissing her on the lips.
But as she softened in his arms, giving in to the desire that had lingered, close to the surface, she suddenly heard an echo of a conversation that had taken place that very morning, when she’d met Jane on the staircase. She heard her own voice asking a question. Am I to understand from this that you and Robert now have a love match? Then came Jane’s reply. Yes, Christina, I love him so much I’m all at sixes and sevens.
With a gasp, Christina pulled abruptly away from him. Jane did love him, and she had met him last night! He’d spoken of conducting himself honorably, but the truth was very different. Last night, after making advances toward her, Christina, he’d then kept an assignation with Jane as well!
“Christina?” Sensing the change in her, and not understanding, he made to draw her into his arms again, but she pushed him away.
“How could you do it?” she breathed. “How could you?”
He looked uncomprehendingly at her. “Do what? Christina, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’ve lied to me, and to Jane, you’ve made base advances to us both!” she accused distractedly.
“No!”
“Jane didn’t meet William last night, she met you, she told me so, and what’s more, I saw you returning from that tryst, just after she went into the house.”
“If she told you she’d been meeting me, she wasn’t telling the truth.”
“She told me she’d met you, and she said she loved you so much she was all at sixes and sevens.”
Tears were wet on Christina’s cheeks. Her heart was pounding unbearably in her breast, and her composure was in utter chaos. She was shaking uncontrollably, engulfed in a bitter wretchedness that seemed to be tearing her apart.
“Christina ...”
“You’re false, Robert Temple, and I know now that your reputation as a womanizer has been well-earned!”
Blinded by the tears, she gathered her skirts and ran to her horse. He ran after her, trying to stop her, but somehow she managed to mount, kicking her heel and urging the frightened mare away from the bell tower.
“Christina, you’re going the wrong way!”
She didn’t hear him. A tumult of pain filled her, and choking sobs caught in her throat. How easily he’d gulled her, and gulled Jane as well. The real Robert Temple was all that was shabby and cruel, all that was silken and seductive.
There were trees around her now, not the open moor, but she hardly saw them. A blur of autumn leaves fled past, and the mare’s flying hooves scattered the crisp carpet cloaking the ground. She was vaguely aware of Robert calling her, and knew he was pursuing her; she spurred her mount to greater effort, unable to think of anything but getting well away from the source of her agony and guilt.
At last she reined in. She couldn’t hear him anymore. Through the trees ahead she saw a broad, shallow river, but it wasn’t the Darch. For the first time she looked around, and knew she was lost, for there was nothing familiar at all. A breeze stirred through the trees, rustling and whispering. It was a lonely sound that brought fresh tears to her eyes.
Slowly she dismounted, and the mare nudged her, making a soft noise. Christina slipped her arms around the animal’s neck, burying her face in its long mane and giving in to the fresh, sharp pain of heartbreak.
Chapter Twenty-six
Meanwhile, in the balloon the mood was lighthearted and carefree, except for Mr. Richmond, who still clung to the rope, wishing the voyage would end as soon as possible. The wonder of flight hadn’t impressed him a great deal, and the possibility of calamity by far outweighed the awe of gazing down upon the ground from a great height. He found himself heartily in agreement with Christina and Robert, and wished he was with them by the bell tower, anticipating the long ride back to Bellstones, instead of up here in this flimsy car, supported by ropes and an invisible substance rejoicing in the peculiar name of hydrogen. The Almighty had never intended man to fly, as the likes of Icarus and William Grenfell had already found out to their cost; he, Henry Richmond, had no wish to provide further proof that it was ill-advised for man to defy the laws of nature.
Lady Chevenley moved closer next to him, smiling as he gazed uneasily down at the Darch in the valley below. “Is it not a splendid sight, Hal?”
“It will do.”
“Is that all you have to say?” she chided, tapping his arm reprovingly. “It’s a wonderful sight, and you should be grateful to William for permitting you to participate in this aerial adventure.” She leaned over the side of the car, looking down at the valley again. “My, how strong the river still is after all the rain. I don’t think I’ve ever seen it in such spate. Look at that tree trunk in the water—it’s like a frigate before the wind.”
Mr. Richmond looked cautiously down, and then straightened again. “If it strikes the bridge at Bellstones, there will probably be damage. A bridge was brought down in Stroud a year last spring.”
“Oh, really, Hal, must you always look on the black side?” she replied a little crossly. “The Darch runs fast every year, trees fall into it every year, and they strike the bridge every year, but it’s been standing there unharmed for centuries now.”
“Nevertheless ...”
“I vow you’d find fault with the Angel Gabriel today, Hal Richmond,” she interrupted, determined not to let him spoil things with his grumbles.
“Alicia, I merely made an observation. That bridge in Stroud did come down.”
“No doubt Gloucestershire bridges are inferior,” she responded, the light in her eyes terminating the argument.
Bellstones appeared ahead now, the house looking very beautiful in its sloping park. William grinned triumphantly at the others, for the breeze couldn’t have served him better had it tried. “How’s that for tidy planning, sir?” he said to Mr. Richmond. “I do believe I’ll be delivering you directly to your door.”
“We aren’t safely on the ground yet, sir,” replied Mr. Richmond.
“We will be, sir, we will be.” William turned back to Jane, speaking in an undertone. “I vow the old boy almost hopes we come a cropper.”
“Don’t be horrid about him,” she replied, but with a stifled laugh.
“Jane, we have to talk.”
She met his eyes. “I know.”
“Things can’t go on like this. Something has to be done, and quickly, or events will overtake us all.”
“I know.”
“I intend to bring the balloon down at Bellstones. Somehow we’ll manage to speak privately then.”
She nodded, and unseen by the others, his hand closed briefly over hers.
The bridge and lodge lay directly below now, and the roar of the Darch rose clearly in the air. The river sped beneath the bridge, parting around the islet downstream, and then thundered over the rapids toward Darchford village further down the valley.
Lady Chevenley had been observing the progress of the tree trunk in the water, and she held her breath as it swooped toward the bridge, somehow finding a path directly beneath one of the arches, spinning out the other side, and swirling away past the islet to the rapids. “There,” she remarked to Mr. Richmond, “the bridge remains intact, not so much as a chip of stone out of it.”
He sniffed, and said nothing.
They floated silently on, and then the park was below them. William reached up to the line of rope vanishing through the neck of the balloon, pulling it slightly in order to open the flap valve at the top of the taffeta sphere billowing overhead. As the valve opened and hydrogen was released, the balloon was put into a long, slanting descent toward the ground. A tall, spreading c
ypress tree loomed ahead, and quickly he bent to throw out two sandbags. The balloon’s descent checked, it lifted slightly, drifted neatly over the tree, and then sank again as the valve was operated once more.
The servants in the house had already seen the balloon, and came out to watch as it came down. William worked hard now, picking up the silk-covered oars to attempt to maneuver the balloon to a particularly inviting and level portion of the park, directly in front of the house. The breeze was blessedly light, allowing the balloon to come to earth with more grace than was frequently the case.
Mr. Richmond held on to the rope and his hat as the balloon bumped gently along the grass, and he exhaled with utter relief as it came to a standstill at last. Jane’s eyes shone with excitement, and Lady Chevenley laughed delightedly, gazing up at the crimson-and-blue taffeta looming above.
William tossed out an anchor, and then vaulted out after it, making certain it was firmly embedded in the ground. Seeing the servants in front of the house, he called the men over, instructing them to take the various ropes and make them fast with wooden pegs, so that a sudden gust of wind wouldn’t lift the balloon off the ground again. Climbing back into the car again, he made certain the flap valve was closed, so that no more hydrogen would escape; then he grinned at his three passengers,
“We’re safely on Mother Earth again, never more safely, and I trust the voyage was as illuminating an experience as you could have wished.”
Jane clasped her hands, her eyes shining. “Yes, oh, yes!”
Lady Chevenley nodded as well. “William, my boy, it was a marvelous diversion, and I wish now that I’d imposed on you before. Why, I think I should have a William Grenfell medallion struck.”
“Medallion?” asked Jane curiously.
Lady Chevenley’s glance stole wickedly toward Mr. Richmond. “Yes, for there was a time when no English lady felt properly dressed if she didn’t sport a Lunardi medallion on a velvet ribbon around her neck.”
Mr. Richmond wasn’t prepared to let that pass without comment. “All of which goes to prove that women can be exceedingly foolish creatures,” he observed caustically.
William alighted again, reaching up to assist Jane down first, and then Lady Chevenley. Mr. Richmond ignored the proffered assistance, choosing to clamber down by himself, and then standing on the ground as if he’d come ashore after a long voyage at sea, instead of an hour or so aloft in a balloon.
Lady Chevenley went to him, laughing a little as she linked his arm. “What a fuss, Hal Richmond. I vow I’m infinitely more brave than you.”
“Rubbish.”
She smiled fondly, knowing him so well. “Have it your way. Now, then, I’m sure the vigilant Campion will be hastily organizing tea for us all, he being the jewel he is, so I suggest we give him a little time by taking a stroll in the gardens.”
“You and your strolls in the garden,” grumbled Mr. Richmond. “I vow you were forever suggesting such exercise when we were young.”
“Because I wished to get you alone, Hal,” she replied tartly, “although for the life of me, I sometimes wonder why. Shall we take that walk, then?” Her glance encompassed the other two as well.
Jane smilingly declined. “I think I’d rather go inside, Lady Chevenley.”
William quickly agreed with her. “We’ll leave you two to enjoy your stroll together,” he said, offering Jane his arm, and without waiting for anything more to be said, they walked away toward the house.
Mr. Richmond looked darkly after them, but Lady Chevenley pulled his arm. “Leave it in the lap of the gods, Hal, and put your mind to enjoying my society instead.”
“But ...”
“My advice is that you leave it, Hal,” she repeated, glancing at the other two. “I believe all will soon be satisfactorily resolved.”
“I don’t think you have any idea—”
“On the contrary, Hal, I think I have a very shrewd idea. Now, then, forget about them and be agreeable to me.”
He hesitated, and then allowed her to steer him in the general direction of the gardens. Alicia Partington had always been able to wrap him around her little finger; he’d adored her in the past, and, so help him, he adored her still. She was quite the most captivating woman he’d ever met, and that included both his beloved wives, and his male vanity had taken a terrible bruising when the infernal Lunardi hove into view over London.
She smiled at him. “What are you thinking, Hal?”
“I was wondering what you ever saw in me.”
She paused, turning to face him. “I saw an honest man, a man who was gentle, shy, and sympathetic, but who was also—forgive me—inclined at times to be a little stuffy. Like all women, I suppose, I thought I could iron that wrinkle out of you, which was why I played up to Vincenzo. I shouldn’t have laughed when you were tossed into that pile of, er, something unmentionable, but I couldn’t help myself. It was a moment’s amusement that cost us both dearly, but we have another chance now, Hal, and I don’t intend to let you escape so easily again.”
He stared at her, totally taken aback.
“Don’t say anything, Hal, just think about it.” She made him walk on toward the gardens.
* * *
In the house, Jane and William proceeded across the hall to the great parlor. A footman opened the door for them, and they stepped inside. As the door closed again, William immediately turned to her, pulling her close and kissing her full on the lips.
She offered no resistance, indeed she came to meet him, slipping her arms around his neck and returning the kiss.
He gazed into her lovely eyes. “I’ve wanted you from the moment I saw you looking from the window in Johnstone Street.”
She pulled guiltily away. “But I’m here to be betrothed to Robert, and I shouldn’t even be thinking of you, let alone kissing you.” She pressed her hands to her cheeks. “I’ve been behaving very badly, William.”
“We both have, if it comes to that, but our conduct has been brought about by circumstances beyond our control. If you marry Robert, you’ll be making a terrible mistake.”
She bit her lip. “I know, but how can I possibly withdraw from the match now? And how can I face my father?”
“Listen, Jane, I know that your father and I haven’t exactly seen eye to eye, but I’d be doing him a grave injustice if I said I thought he’d put the St. Clement match before his daughter’s happiness. I may not have a title, and I may not be as wealthy as Robert, but I’m not exactly a poor match, am I? There have been Grenfells at Grenfell Hall since just after the Norman conquest, which lineage is actually more impressive than Robert’s.”
He hesitated. “We have to come out into the open about our feelings for each other, Jane, and not for just our own sakes.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m thinking about Christina.”
“Christina?” She looked at him in surprise. “But what has she to do with it?”
“She’s in love with Robert.”
Jane stared incredulously at him. “Oh, what nonsense—” she began.
“It’s true, Jane, believe me.”
The serious note in his voice arrested her. “How do you know?” she asked.
“Observation, originally. Then I faced her with it, and she admitted I was right.” He smiled a little, remembering. “She was taking me to task for attempting to come between you and Robert, even though she loves him herself and it would be to her benefit if you and I ...” He didn’t finish, but looked at her again. “She really does love him, Jane, and she’s doing all in her power to hide the fact.”
She turned away. “Oh, poor Christina, and to think I’ve been so selfishly wrapped in my own problems that I didn’t even notice. Why, I even lied to her this morning about it. She asked me if he and I had a love match now, and I said we did. I only said it because I was afraid.”
“Afraid?”
“She caught me off guard by telling me she’d seen Robert returning to the house last night after me. S
he put two and two together and deduced that Robert and I had had an assignation. I was alarmed, for if Robert had been in the gardens last night at that time, then he might have seen us ... I hardly dared go down to the breakfast room after that, but he was all charm and attention, and I knew he hadn’t realized what I’d done.”
She looked guiltily at him. “You’re right, we can’t go on like this, for one lie is inevitably leading to another, and the longer we leave it, the worse it will get.”
He smiled, pulling her close and hugging her. “You won’t regret it, I promise you.”
She hid her face against his shoulder. “I wish I hadn’t fibbed to Christina.”
“You weren’t to know.”
“No, but I should have done. I’ve told monstrous untruths ever since I met you, and although I’ve admitted some of them to her, I wasn’t honest enough to say how I really felt about you.” She drew back a little. “I came here fully intending to be all I should be to Robert, but when you came to dinner last night ...”
“It was the same for me. I meant to stand by my promise where you were concerned, but once faced with you again, I knew I couldn’t.” He put his hand to her chin, tilting her head and smiling into her eyes. “When shall we tell them?”
“As soon as we’re all together.”
“When Robert and Christina return from their ride?”
She nodded. “I wish ...”
“Yes?”
“I wish that Robert and Christina ...”
“A fairy-tale ending?”
“Yes,” she whispered, blinking back tears for Christina. “Kiss me again, William.”