by Sunny Brooks
“I am truly sorry, Mrs. Harrington,” he said, slowly, meaning every single word. “What a terrible position for you to be in. I can well understand why you have been so troubled. I should never so much have mentioned to the butler that I was thinking of replacing you. It was my own foolish thoughts, and I deeply regret ever allowing myself to consider it as an appropriate solution.
As for –” he struggled to get the words out, heat creeping up his spine and into his face. “As for kissing you, Mrs. Harrington, I can only apologize again. I should not have done so. This is nothing to do with you, and I would not ever ask you to depart from this house based on my own disgraceful behavior.”
Sitting up, he cleared his throat before glancing at her again, seeing tears on her cheeks and felt guilt slam into his heart. “I do not know if you can forgive me, Mrs. Harrington but I do beg it of you. My inhibitions were evidently lowered – if not absent altogether, and so I must have given in to my desires without even realizing them.”
If it had not been for Mrs. Harrington’s swift intake of breath, Francis might not have realized what it was he had just said. Ice clung to his limbs, making it impossible to move. He stared at Mrs. Harrington, who was looking back at him with utter astonishment.
“I –”
There was nothing he could say to explain what he had meant. Having just told her outright that he had given in to his desire to kiss her, he could not easily explain it away.
“I – I think I should leave you, Lord Catesby,” Mrs. Harrington murmured, her face pink and eyes roving around the room in a desperate attempt not to look at him. “Do excuse me.”
“Mrs. Harrington.”
He had risen to his feet without really knowing why looking at her directly as she turned back slowly to face him.
“Mrs. Harrington,” he said again, slowly beginning to realize what it was he wanted to say and trying to find a way to say it. “I do not want you to think that I am simply a gentleman intent on seducing his staff simply to satisfy his own whims.” He saw her blush and felt his own cheeks warm, but continued on regardless, determined to speak the truth to her as though, in its own way, it might save him from his embarrassment. “I do not do such things. It is not my way. Rather, I will confess to you that I have been quite unable to get you from my mind ever since you have come to my house.”
Her eyes were rounded, staring at him, whilst her mouth hung a little ajar. Evidently, he had astonished her completely.
“I tell you this because it is the truth, Mrs. Harrington,” he continued, refusing to shy away from it. “That is the only reason I have attempted to remove you from this house, and it was wrong of me to do so. I do not want you to go simply because of my own struggles. That would be entirely unfair. However, I will confess that I continue to desire to know you better, to spend time in conversation, to talk and laugh and share – but such a desire is quite ridiculous. I am aware of that. I am a lord of the realm, and I would not sully your reputation by forcing my desires on to you. I should not have done so then, and I will not do so again.”
Breathing hard, he finished his little speech with a feeling of both relief and a sudden awareness of just how honest he had been with her. He had never said such things aloud but now that they had been spoken, his heart felt a good deal lighter.
Mrs. Harrington, however, was looking entirely stunned – and he could not blame her for such a reaction. She had one hand to her heart, her eyes glistening with sparkling tears and, suddenly, Francis felt himself jolt with fear.
“You will not leave the house because of what I have told you,” he said, as though stating a fact rather than asking a question. “You cannot, Mrs. Harrington, that would not be fair.” He realized immediately that in saying what he had done, he was practically forcing the lady from his home. That had not been his intention. He had wanted her to understand why he had been so conflicted, but by being so forthright, he could now have opened the door for her to leave of her own volition.
Tears fell onto her cheeks. “Oh, Lord Catesby,” she breathed, clearly struggling to get the words from her lips. “You have astonished me entirely. I did not think that you would had such a depth of feeling for one such as I.”
She did not look either angry or upset at what he had confessed. In fact, there appeared to be almost a lightness about her, as though what he had said now brought her some kind of relief.
“I will not ruin your reputation or your standing by doing anything I should not,” he promised, going against everything that he longed for. “I will remain as I ought, and you can continue your duties regardless of what I have said.” A small smile caught his lips, tugging them ruefully. “I did not mean to confess all of this to you, Mrs. Harrington, but I could not bear your distress any longer. I will not have you afraid of me.”
She shook her head, her eyes dropping to the floor for a moment. Francis closed his eyes and took in a steadying breath, refusing to let himself reflect on the significance of what had happened that evening in the library. If his memory was correct, Mrs. Harrington had responded to him in her own way. She had not slapped him and run from the room but had grown soft and warm under his embrace. But no, he would not think on this, would not allow himself to consider, to dream. He had said and done enough already.
“Lord Catesby, I think there is something I must tell you,” Mrs. Harrington stammered, her cheeks now cooling to a dusky pink. “I –”
The door opened just as she was about to speak, admitting the butler.
“I am terribly sorry, my lord,” the butler apologized, ignoring Mrs. Harrington completely. “I knew you were talking to Mrs. Harrington and thought to step in. You have an unexpected visitor.”
Francis, rather irritated by such an interruption, sighed heavily and picked up the card from the silver tray. “Who is this gentleman?” he asked, waving the card about. “I do not recognize the name.”
The butler lifted one shoulder. “I cannot say, my lord, although he claims to be the cousin of Lord Rapson. Apparently, he is looking for him for I believe there has been some sort of upset back at the estate.”
That brought a frown to Francis’ face. “Very well,” he stated, waving the butler away. “I will see him. Just bring him along here and send for the tea tray.”
The butler withdrew, leaving only Mrs. Harrington remaining. Francis turned back to her, expecting for her to continue, only to see her turn puce.
“Mrs. Harrington?”
“Lord Catesby,” she whispered, coming towards him and grasping his arm with one hand. “Has the honorable Stephen Jefferson come to see you?”
Astonishment shot through him. “You know the gentleman?”
She swayed slightly, and for a moment, Francis thought she might collapse where she stood. “You must not tell him that Lord Rapson is here,” she replied, hoarsely. “Please, my lord, do as I ask. It is for Lord Rapson’s safety.”
Knowing that he could not delay in order to demand how Mrs. Harrington knew of both Mr. Jefferson and Lord Rapson, Francis put one hand over hers. “I will not pretend to understand, Mrs. Harrington, but you appear to be quite in earnest.”
“I am,” she pleaded, her eyes boring into his. “He must not know, my lord.”
“Very well, very well,” he said, softly, although he was entirely unsure as to why she could have asked him such a thing. “Although I will expect an explanation from you as regards this matter forthwith.”
She nodded, no smile or even flash of relief on her face. “Thank you, Lord Catesby. I must go.”
Francis watched her leave the room, feeling more confused than ever. Mrs. Harrington had been more receptive to his confession than he had thought and now, it appeared, there was more to her than he had first believed. How did she know Mr. Jefferson? And what did Lord Rapson have to do with it all?
“The honorable Stephen Jefferson, my lord.”
Jerking in surprise, he saw the butler standing at the open door, standing to one side to announce F
rancis’ guest.
“Mr. Jefferson,” he said at once, hoping the gentleman had not seen his lack of preparation. “Do sit down and tell me at once what it is I can do to assist you.”
Chapter 8
Rebecca’s breathing was ragged as she hurried from one room to the next, desperate to find her brother. Jefferson was here. Mark had to be warned.
How he had found them, she did not know, and she could not believe that it was simply happenstance. Mark had promised her that no-one knew of her whereabouts. He had promised that not even his staff knew that he intended to come to Catesby House, and yet here Jefferson was.
Whilst she had been able to talk with her brother on more than one occasion, she had not been able to come up with any particular solution as to how to remove Jefferson from their lives for good. She had thought they would have more time, that they would be able to talk with the dowager who, as yet, they had been unable to visit together. Angry, frustrated and afraid, she turned into the dining room to find her brother busy finishing a late luncheon.
“Rebecca!” he exclaimed, looking delighted to see her. “Have you come up with something?”
Closing the door tightly, she leaned against it for a moment before shaking her head. “No, Rapson, I have not.”
His expression changed at once, evidently seeing her demeanor. “Is something the matter, Rebecca?”
“Jefferson is here.”
His knife and fork clattered unceremoniously, on the plate. His face went sheet white as he stared at her, his smile fading at once.
“You told me that your staff knew nothing of this,” she said, hoarsely, walking towards him on trembling limbs. “How, then, has he found us both?”
Her brother did not say anything for some moments, his eyes glazing over as he looked at her, clearly thinking about what he had said and who could have told their cousin.
“Jefferson may have found a way to gain entry into the estate,” he murmured, eventually. “I never once let him in, and the staff was told to refuse him, but I am quite sure he could have easily wheedled his way in using one of the more impressionable maids. He is, as you know, a particularly persuasive man.”
She didn’t understand. “But what would that matter? You did not tell any of the staff where you were going.”
“But I did keep my correspondence in my study,” he admitted, quietly, his gaze faltering as he looked at her. “If he found a way in there, then he might easily have discovered the letter I received back from Lord Catesby welcoming a visit from me.”
Her breath caught. “Oh, no, Mark.”
He dropped his head. “I should have burned the letter,” he admitted, regretfully. “But truly, I did not for one moment imagine that he would find a way into the manor house if that is what he has done. I am sorry, Rebecca.”
She shook her head. “It is not something you could have anticipated, Rapson. Our cousin is more devious than either of us ever expected.”
“But what are we to do?” he asked, hopelessly. “I feel so very useless, Rebecca. I am meant to be protecting you, but without realizing it, I have managed to lead our cousin directly to us.” His eyes caught hers, and she was caught by the lack of hope that was within. “I am failing in my duties, Rebecca. I have been unable to protect you, and even now when the danger has loomed even closer, I find myself entirely at a loss.”
Rebecca drew in a long breath in an attempt to steady herself. “I have begged Lord Catesby not to say a word about your presence here,” she began, seeing a flicker of light in her brother’s eyes. “He agreed, I am glad to say, but it will require an explanation from us both.” The way Lord Catesby had spoken to her before the news of Jefferson’s arrival still warmed her, the sudden anticipation catching her off guard. “I cannot predict what his reaction will be, but I pray that he will be able to help us.”
Her brother nodded. “I could send a footman to fetch the dowager also,” he murmured quietly. “It is a little discourteous given that we are guests in Lord Catesby’s home, but she will need to talk of her part in all of this, especially if we are to convince Catesby to help us.”
Rebecca leaned heavily on the table. “I think that would be wise.”
She waited quietly whilst her brother called for a footman, dictating a short note which would be taken at once to the dowager. Whilst she waited, her mind turned back to her employer. What Lord Catesby had revealed to her already, only a few minutes beforehand, had quite taken her by surprise – and now she was to reveal something of her own to him.
To hear him speak of affection, of his desire to be close to her and how he could not remove her from his thoughts had forced her to see him in a very different light. Suddenly, his reasons from turning from her, for considering that he ought to remove her from her position and replace her with someone entirely new, all began to make sense. He had been afraid of what he had begun to want, turning away from the overwhelming sense of longing that he had spoken to her of.
A lord of the manor might have whichever of his staff he chose, given that he was of a much higher station than they. But she knew that Lord Catesby was not that kind man. He was a gentleman.
He had thought to send her away than disgrace her or soil her reputation. That spoke of kindness, of consideration and of a strong sense of what was right and what was wrong. Her brother had been correct to state that Lord Catesby was a trustworthy fellow, with a good, strong moral compass. At the time, she had thought that entirely incorrect, believing that Lord Catesby had kissed her in order to ensure that she could not remain in his employ for very much longer, but she had been wrong on that count. Very wrong. Lord Catesby was, all in all, a very good man.
“There we are,” her brother muttered, thrusting one hand into his hair as he began to pace the room in a state of agitation. “The note is sent. The dowager will be here shortly, I hope. Although it will take us some time to explain it all to Lord Catesby, I think.”
She gave him a rueful smile. “I do hope that he will not be too angry with me.”
“Angry with you?” Rapson repeated, looking astonished. “My dear sister, I am quite sure that Lord Catesby will understand. He will not be angry with you, not when, as I understand, you have been doing such a remarkable job in managing the household.”
A small blush crept into her cheeks. “Did he say such a thing?”
“On more than one occasion,” her brother said, firmly. “You cannot imagine how proud I was to hear it. You have done remarkably well, Rebecca. I am only sorry I have been unable to do more.”
She shook her head and caught his hand, preventing him from walking away again to pace the floor. “You did all that you could, Mark. You even called him out, but he refused to meet your demands. That is hardly your fault.” She squeezed his hand gently. “You were willing to put your life on the line for me. Even worse, you have been chased from your home by the crazed attempts of a gentleman desperate to have what he has long desired, despite having no claim to it.”
Shaking her head sadly, she looked up at him again. “You and I are both at as much of a loss as the other when it comes to dealing with our cousin. Aside from having him shot, I can see no easy solution to our present difficulties – unless….” She trailed off, an idea sparking in her mind. If she were to marry another, then Jefferson would have not only herself and her brother to contend with, but also her husband. It would mean giving up her fortune to her husband but if she found a good man, then would that be as much of a trial as she feared?
Her mind filled with the face of Lord Catesby. She could not pretend that there was not a small amount of feeling that filled her soul when she thought of him, burning all the brighter now that she knew the real reason for his thoughts of sending her away. He was a good man, was he not? If she gave him her fortune by wedding him, she was quite sure that he would not withhold anything from her that she desired. It was not as though she knew any other particular gentleman, given that she had only just finished her half year of mournin
g before she had been forced to run from her home.
But, then again, Lord Catesby might not have any thoughts of matrimony. That was a foolish hope and certainly not one she could cling to.
Letting out a long sigh, she looked up into her brother’s anxious face, knowing just how much he wished to help her and just how little they were able to do. “We will think of something, Rapson. I am quite sure we will be able to come up with something, once we have the assistance of the dowager and Lord Catesby.”
“I do hope so,” he murmured, clearly very despondent. “I have done nothing of use thus far.”
She embraced him, trying her best to draw up her courage and strength whilst reassuring him also. He hugged her back, murmuring yet more apologies as frustration radiated from him.
Just as she was about to step back, the door opened, and Lord Catesby stepped inside, stopping dead as he looked at them both, an angry glint in his eye.
Chapter 9
“Whatever is the meaning of this?”
Francis knew his voice was loud and held a good deal of anger, but to walk in and see Mrs. Harrington in the arms of Lord Rapson was more than he could tolerate. He had just bared his soul to the lady and, whilst he had not expected her to run to him, he certainly did not think she would then be in the arms of another gentleman! On top of all of this, he had just come from a very confusing conversation with Mr. Jefferson, who had apparently been searching for Lord Rapson in order to inform him about some terrible news which, for whatever reason, he could not divulge to Francis himself.
It had been as though Mr. Jefferson knew that Lord Rapson was within and had been trying to force Francis to admit it. Francis had not liked the gentleman, and for this reason, finding Mr. Jefferson’s sharp hazel eyes and slightly menacing smile a little disconcerting. But, as he had promised to Mrs. Harrington, he had not mentioned a word about Lord Rapson’s presence, even though the gentleman had persisted with his questions for some minutes.