As he said nothing but only sat regarding her with a deal of amusement in his eyes, she demanded, "Well, Edward Thurston, what now?"
"Get down," he demanded as he himself dismounted and tethered his horse to a tree. As she sat mulishly regarding some point above his head, he repeated his command more forcibly. "Get down, or do I need fetch you myself?"
That was enough to bring her eyes to his face, but as she would have given a scathing reply, he strode over and, grasping her about the waist, scooped her from the saddle, standing her none too gently on the ground before him. He stood holding her tightly to his chest, examining her features as if he saw them for the first time; then, issuing a groan akin to a sob, he covered her lips with his own, taking her breath and making it necessary for her to lean against him.
Suddenly, as if coming to realization, she braced her hands against his chest, crying against his lips, "No, Edward, no!" Immediately he released her, but she found she needed his arm for support.
"You do not love me?" he queried softly, a strange note sounding in his voice.
"How can I, when you hold another in your heart?" she cried.
"What other?" he demanded hotly. "Who tells you lies?"
"There is no need to prevaricate, Ned. I know."
"Then you know nothing...
"I know of the portrait, the one you carry with you always."
Throwing back his head, he gave a bark of laughter. "And it's on this you base your accusations? It's on this that you accuse me?"
"It is Estelle's portrait that you carry. Don't tell me to the contrary, for I will not believe you"
"Will you not, my little love?" he replied, a gentle smile twisting his lips, and, putting his hand into his pocket, he drew out the portrait and held it out for her inspection.
With great reluctance she took it from his hand, not daring to lower her eyes from his face for fear of whose likeness she might see.
"Look," he demanded. "Then you may tell me whom I love."
She examined the portrait, and her eyes filled with tears as her own face looked back at her from the silver frame.
"Your father gave it to me just before I was dispatched to Spain," he said softly. "He thought I should have a memento of you. Little did he know how much I would come to rely on it. How it only served to increase my love for you.
"Ah, yes" He smiled, seeing the disbelief in her eyes. "Although I'd seen you on so few occasions, even before our betrothal I loved you. When our respective sires proposed the match, I couldn't believe my good fortune."
"I never knew," she whispered.
"How could you, when we were accorded so little time together? I had no opportunity to try to fix your affections. You were so young and had spent so little time in society, and when I was posted, the chance was lost."
"Dearest Ned, I had no idea. Your letters gave no indication, and I was desperate for some word of affection from you, but none came"
"It was so difficult to woo you from such a distance, my love," he said, smiling, "and I couldn't tell you of the horrors of war. Your letters were the only normality in my life, and I clung to them. In their naivete they diverted me from the violence of the battlefield."
"I can't bear to think of what you endured," she cried, putting her arms about him and laying her head on his chest. "Why didn't you tell me when you returned?"
"How could I?" he scoffed, laying his cheek against her curls. "How could I expect you to continue with the betrothal? I wanted to be the man you knew, the one you thought I was, not the wreck I'd become."
She raised her face to receive his caress. "You are no wreck, my love," she whispered against his neck. "I didn't realize I loved you until we journeyed to Buxton together and you treated me like a scrubby schoolboy. You were overbearing, high-handed, provoking, and you broke my heart. Until then I wasn't aware of just how dearly I loved you"
"Then why did you refuse me when I offered for you?"
"I thought you only offered out of honor, that you thought you'd compromised me"
"It was no such thing." He smiled. "Though I must admit, I did it badly." Taking her hand, he raised it to his lips. "Now I will ask you that question again, Jen"
"I will consider it." She chuckled, evading his embrace. "I will give it my honest consideration and give you my answer in a few days"
"You will ... what?" he cried in disbelief. "No, you won't, my girl. I will have your answer now, or you will pay the consequence. Will you have me or no?"
She looked at him mischievously, feigning deliberation. "I must first take into consideration this propensity you have for keeping portraits of unknown females... "
"Jen . . " he warned, taking a step toward her.
"Very well, dearest Ned, I will have you"
He reached out to her and snatched her to him, kissing her fiercely until they fell breathlessly apart.
"Damn it, Jen, you terrified me" He chuckled, sinking to the ground at the base of a tree, a lock of damp hair falling across his brow, which only served to make him appear all the more vulnerable. "Forswear, I've never been so frightened in all my life." He held out his arm that she would join him.
"How was I to know it was my portrait that you carried?" she cried, spreading wide her riding skirts to sit beside him. "Edward Thurston, L.
"No, you don't, Jen. You know you don't." He laughed, pulling her roughly to him.
"Well, perhaps not, Ned," she conceded, making no attempt to withdraw from his embrace, "but at times I have so wished to box your ears"
"Then box away, my love"-he laughed-"for 'tis naught but your way of proving you love me"
"And I do, Ned, most truly I do," she vowed, winding her arms about his neck and pulling his head down to hers.
As they rode slowly homeward, it was agreed that they should keep their secret until Sinclair had spoken to Hawley.
"And then we will surprise them all, sweetheart" He smiled.
"It will come as no surprise to Flora," said Jenny. "She has guessed it all along."
"Then we will keep her guessing a while longer, for she cannot be relied upon to keep her triumph secret"
Arriving in the yard at Fly, they were met with the information that Lord Carlton had left for London.
"Damnation, I would have gone in his stead," declared Sinclair, dismounting.
"It will make no matter." Jenny smiled, doing likewise. "And I will have your company a while longer."
"Aye, tomorrow will do as well," he agreed, resisting the temptation to put his arm about her waist as they left the yard. "I will not leave my girl quite so soon"
During the evening Flora cast them several inquiring glances, but as she was met with naught but a noncommittal smile, she remained in ignorance of the true state of affairs and retired to her bed none the wiser of the events that had taken place.
66 Confound it, Sinclair, does your family intend to descend on me en masse?" snapped Hawley when the earl was ushered into the library. As the earl would have replied, he raised a hand. "There's no need for your pleadings; I will tell you exactly what I told your damned brother-in-law. Jennifer and Freddie do not go to Brighton. They return to London immediately. Indeed, my coach is already on its way to collect them"
"It's not on that issue that I requested this interview," replied Sinclair, keeping his calm only with great effort. "I come on an entirely different matter, though 'tis one I believe will find favor with you."
Hawley rose from his chair behind the desk to pour himself a glass of burgundy, but he made no offer of refreshment to the earl. "And what is it that you think will find favor with me?" he asked with a sneer, returning to his seat. "I am most eager to hear it." "
"I will not prevaricate; Jennifer has agreed to marry me"
Hawley's face suffused with color. "You approached her without my permission? That was extremely unwise. While she's under my guardianship, there's no way on this earth that I'll agree to your marriage." And he brought his hand down forcibly onto the de
sk.
Bearing in mind Jennifer's words, Sinclair tried a different tack. "I would have thought it to your advantage to see her creditably settled. Will it not then leave you free to pursue your own nuptials? Indeed, Freddie may live with us at Fly; even he will not be allowed to hinder you. You will be free of all responsibility."
"You may not be aware, but my own betrothal is at an end," snapped Hawley. "Therefore I gain nothing by allowing this marriage. Indeed, I would be loath to allow my sister to ally herself with such as you. She deserves more than half a man"
Sinclair started forward, fury showing in his every line, his intent only too obvious.
Hawley sat back in his chair. "Do not think to attack me in my own home," he warned. "My servants are well within hailing distance, and nothing would please me more than to have you manhandled from my house, which I assure you I would have no hesitation in doing." Extending a hand, he rang a bell, and immediately the door was opened. "My lord is leaving," he informed the lackey. Then, turning to Sinclair, he added, "Your method of leaving is entirely in your own hands"
"The matter does not end here," the earl assured him, realizing the futility of attempting to prolong the interview. Turning on his heel, he left Hawley to contemplate the situation alone.
Which he did at great length, his own state of rejection paling into insignificance. Convinced of the humiliation he was sure the earl was presently suffering, he congratulated himself on the great piece of fortune that had laid revenge within his grasp.
However, in this particular he was quite wrong. The interview had not so much left the earl in a state of dejection but in one of extreme determination. The thought that if Hawley had already dispatched his chaise to Fly, his beloved should be returned to London before morning, did a deal to appease his mood. Hawley would not be able to keep her under lock and key. At worst, his opposition would only be allowed for the length of his guardianship, which in not much more than a twelve-month would be at its end.
Presenting himself once more at the Earl of Hawley's door the following morning, determined to see Jennifer, he was informed that the lady was indisposed and unable to receive visitors. When asked to qualify the indisposition, the servant relayed the news that he believed her ladyship was overly tired from the previous day's journey.
Assured that his intended was indeed well and that the denial was issued at Hawley's instigation, the earl removed himself to White's, determined that it should not appear to Hawley that he languished in any way.
However, this became the pattern over the next few days. Each morning he would arrive at his lordship's door, only to receive the same rejection, the excuses ranging from the lady had a headache to the lady was attended by the mantua-maker, and his patience began to wear thin. He knew not whether she was aware of his calls, but he felt some effort must be made to contact her. Perhaps Freddie could be the solution, but Freddie was nowhere to be found. He searched in all the likely places he thought the youth would frequent but drew a blank. He returned to Fly Hall both irritable and weary, having left messages about the town that Freddie should contact him on a matter of urgency.
Supper proved a solemn, solitary meal, and at its conclusion he retired to the library, ordering a decanter of brandy. He seldom drank to excess, never feeling in need of the solace of spirits, but tonight he drank steadily, his mood turning to the morose. The hour advanced past midnight, and still he remained seated on the hearth, the candles burning low in their sconces, the night air turning chill. Suddenly a discreet tap came on the door, and the footman entered to announce Master Frederick Lynton.
"At last," was Sinclair's relieved reply, not realizing the incongruity of the visit at so late an hour. However, when the figure of the youth entered, he leaped from his seat in amazement and crossed the room to gather the youth to his breast.
"Jen!" he cried. "My God, Jen" And he held her tightly to him.
"You must let me breathe, Ned," she cried between laughter and tears as she clung to him. Smiling indulgently, she pushed him toward his chair and said, "Sit down" Which he did, drawing her to sit on his lap and holding her there. She was not averse to her situation and quite happily nestled against him.
However, once the joy of reunion allowed, Sinclair gave a rueful grin. "As you may have noticed, my dear, I'm decidedly half-sprung," he confessed.
"The thought had crossed my mind," she said, chucking softly. "Why is it, Edward Thurston, that whenever I am in need of you, I find you foxed?" She shook her head slightly, a small frown puckering her brow. "No, that's not right," she said, correcting herself. "I believe the term is bosky."
"The term on this occasion is foxed, decidedly foxed," he replied, grinning unrepentantly. "Otherwise, I wouldn't be allowing you to sit unchallenged on my lap, when I should, in all propriety, return you home."
"I am not going home," she declared blithely. "I shall never go home again!"
He frowned heavily. "However much we would wish it, you cannot remain here, my love. I will not allow you to discredit yourself for my sake, for you would be quite ruined, no matter what the outcome"
"I'm not remaining here, and neither are you. We join the coach once more"
"We travel north again?"
"Most certainly!"
"You go to Rutledge?" he demanded, coming upright in the chair and almost unseating her from his lap.
She smiled lovingly, laying a hand against his cheek. "What a goose you can be, Ned. We go to the border."
"The border?" he queried in a befuddled manner. Then, as understanding came, he cried with delight, "Gretna Green ... By Gad ... We elope!"
"The light dawns" She chuckled, unable to contain her amusement. "I will remind you of this conversation when we are quite old and staid, and you will not believe it ever took place."
"But what about Hawley?" he asked, sobering.
"This time I have left a note. It states that I've gone to Brighton. He will no doubt spend several days searching for me there before realizing that he has been duped, and then it will be too late. He must make what best he can of the situation."
"He's that stupid?" asked Sinclair in disbelief.
"Most certainly, he has neither an imagination nor a romantic soul."
"Which you have in abundance, sweetheart" The earl laughed and would have kissed her again, but, disengaging herself from his embrace, she stood before him, hands on hips.
"Edward Thurston, if we are to elope, I suggest you make some effort to prepare for the journey. And before you ask, yes, I do have a suitable gown"
He smiled, coming unsteadily to his feet. "You are very resourceful, my love. Your brain, at the moment, is much sharper than mine. Tell me, do we travel post?"
"Certainly not," she said, laughing as she urged him toward the door. "We travel by the Accommodation Coach. What other way does one travel to one's wedding?"
"Exactly!" he agreed. "I wouldn't have it any other way, Jeremiah!"
The Portrait Page 18