Her sparkling eyes when he met her outside her lawyer’s offices gave him pause. Virginia was in a temper. But he said nothing until they had climbed into the infinitely more comfortable traveling carriage he had bespoken from the George, and seen her settled.
The first thing he wanted, once they were clear of the town and out of the sight of curious eyes, was to haul her close and claim the kiss he’d been looking forward to for hours.
She melted under him and lifted her hand to his cheek, cupping it. He could kiss this woman for hours, and once he had his ring on her finger, he intended to do just that.
When their lips finally separated, she pulled away, although he wanted to draw her close and carry on. She sat up straight, her hands folded in her lap in the approved pose of the gentlewoman.
He glanced out of the window. “We’re approaching Newton Abbott. We’ll be at Combe Manor before nightfall.”
“I could do nothing,” she said, anger rumbling low in her voice. But not for him. “Henderson would only clarify the terms of the will. I lose it all.”
She closed her eyes. He hated seeing her defeated, so pushed down. “I wanted to establish the orphanages. I found the work truly rewarding. The ones I have set up are working now, the children heading for respectability instead of life on the streets, living in fear. I don’t discuss it much because I don’t want to be known as a Lady Bountiful. I don’t want to be thanked. I just want to do it. The orphanages are in Ralph’s name, and they were his idea, after all.”
“Then you shall continue with the work if you consent to marry me,” he said softly. “Come. For the hour left of our journey, rest.”
She laid her head on his shoulder. For now, he was content, although the new information left thoughts rioting through his head.
* * * *
Virginia couldn’t think properly. Telling Francis her secret had released a flood of tension she’d been holding since Ralph died.
Twice. The second time he’d accepted it much better than he had at first. Perhaps he would wait for her, after all.
When they arrived at the best inn in the pretty town of Newton Abbott, they paused only to change the horses and send a message ahead, warning the couple who lived in Combe Manor to prepare for their arrival. Virginia watched them numbly. “Will you stay here?”
His mouth flattened. “No.” He rested his hand gently on her shoulder. “Let’s call this our time.”
Turning her head, she regarded him with a jaded expression, her mouth flat. “Our time?”
“We have a few days in an out-of-the-way house. We can give ourselves that.” And give her time to make her decision, instead of making it for her.
The carriage jolted over a rut in the road as their path narrowed and grew more rustic. Virginia sat up and leaned back. “The sea,” she murmured.
“We’ve been following it for a while.”
This was not a stretch of tranquil ocean. Instead, the gray, white-tipped waves supported a collection of vessels of all kinds, from large sailing ships that had come from halfway across the world, to small fishing vessels that set out every morning and came back before noon.
She was tempted to sink back into his arms, where she knew she would be welcome, but she still didn’t know what to think or how to have what she longed for.
While Virginia was not a native of the West Country, nowhere else had felt more like home. Driving along the coastline through the town, she felt a spring inside her unwind, a relaxation as if she was finally on home ground.
The carriage pulled off the road and drove up an overgrown drive. She had expected nothing less, since she only employed a gardener once a week to cut down the worst of it. “The couple who look after it are Mr. and Mrs. Yarnock,” she said as they jolted over yet another rut.
Virginia’s mind was in too much turmoil for her to think rationally about the issue now. But they would be sharing a bed tonight, and she could not be sorry about that. Nobody had held her as he did. Nobody had held her at all since she’d quit the nursery for the schoolroom. She had not known how much she was missing before now.
He took her hand, and she curled her fingers around his. Warm and reassuring, he gave her the strength to do what had to be done. “I was proud of the orphanages,” she said in a quiet voice.
“I know. There is no reason why you should stop your philanthropy. In fact, I would like it to continue. But instead of having it imposed on you, I would rather you found out your true areas of concern and worked on those. And take proper credit for them.”
She liked the orphanages, but perhaps if she established them on her own she would not restrict them to the children of soldiers. And she would have more than fifteen to a house. Ralph had laid that down, but some of the houses could carry more, she was sure of it.
Combe Manor was a six-bedroom manor house rather than a great mansion, once the home of a prosperous yeoman farmer. But it could hold more than fifteen youngsters in relative comfort.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t let you have the house,” she said. But at least he knew why now.
His hand tightened on hers. “If it came to a choice, I choose you.”
The carriage had climbed most of the way to get to the house, which sat on the top of a hill. It stopped at the front door, allowing them to take stock of the house.
They stared at it in silence.
“Traditional materials,” she said. “Flint and granite.”
Tall windows with stone mullions, a boxy frontage, and an arched front door met their gazes. As Butler and Hurst collected their meager luggage off the carriage, they stared at it. Nobody came out of the house to greet them.
Caught by sudden doubts, Virginia turned to Francis. “I’ve never met the couple who live here.” She picked at a fold of her skirt, held it up and dropped it. “Will they believe me when I tell them who I am?”
“They will,” Francis said firmly. Although he now had his usual style of wig back and still wore plain country clothes, he nevertheless stood out. Virginia saw what he was doing. Standing tall, she straightened her spine and stuck her chin in the air.
“All right, missus?” the carriage driver said. “I’ll be on my way then.”
He drove along the front of the house and turned the carriage. Virginia wondered if they should keep him, then decided against it. They would have some kind of vehicle here, even if it was only a gig. Enough to get them to Newton Abbott or the village of Combe, a short distance back on the road, if they needed to.
He’d already been paid, so they let him go, bowling back up the uneven drive they’d arrived from.
“I’m glad we’ve done with that,” Francis said. “I’ll send to my house for a proper carriage, one suitable for my bride.”
She heard him with mixed emotions. She could not deny that she wanted him, but in order to have him, her whole world was crumbling around her. Falling to pieces. That part terrified her. All her childhood memories emerged to strangle her, until her throat tightened and she had to force herself to take a breath.
Francis slipped his arm around her waist. “I know,” he murmured, although he didn’t.
Chapter 18
The front door was open, so they walked through, the men bringing the luggage, such as it was. “Ho, there!”
Francis’s call echoed around the hall and up past the stairs to the top of the house. Nobody responded. Francis exchanged a glance with the men.
The hall was clean, that was, it was dusted and the wooden stairs were polished, though not very enthusiastically. The surface was dust-free but dull, and the bare wooden floor was swept.
So far, so good. After glancing at Francis, Virginia moved forward. For now at least, she was mistress here. The downstairs rooms, a snug parlor, a study, a breakfast room and a couple of others, seemed in order, even if the shutters were closed. At this time of year sunset would no
t come for at least four hours, but perhaps the caretakers were protecting the furniture and fabrics from the sunlight.
The furniture, while old, was in good order, and the cushions and curtains were fresh, if plain.
Virginia turned to Francis. “I like this house.”
He nodded. “I have never visited before, but I agree.”
This too would be lost to her if she married Francis. She had spent the last ten years, from the time her parents had told her she was to be married to now, building her shield, ensuring she would never be dependent on another human being ever again. Only to see the whole structure torn away, leaving her with nothing.
Not that she did not trust Francis, but…
“What is it?” Francis drew her aside as the two men went ahead, back into the hall.
Virginia cleared her expression. “What do you mean?”
“You’re distressed. Don’t deny it. While I can’t see it in your face, it’s in your eyes and the way you’re holding yourself.”
So even her usual defenses were useless where Francis was concerned. By now he knew her too well.
“Where is everybody? There should be someone here at all times. Or the door should have been locked. If they took their time securing the shutters, why did they leave the door open?”
He gave her face a searching look before he nodded. “That had occurred to me, too. Let’s see the rest of the house, and then decide.”
She held her sigh of relief until he’d turned his back to open the door. By the time he turned back to her, she had schooled her features better, with the help of a mirror hung on the opposite wall.
They went upstairs as Hurst came up from the servants’ quarters. “Nobody down there. The kitchen fire is warm but banked down. Maybe they were called away.”
“Yes, that has to be the reason. The couple I employed are from the village, so perhaps something happened there.” That sounded like a rational reason. And they left in a hurry, so did not secure the doors properly.
Upstairs they found more reception rooms and six well-appointed bedrooms. The largest held an old four-poster, but it was as different to the one at the inn where Virginia and Francis had first made love as it could possibly be.
This one had barley-sugar supports and a coat of arms engraved on the bedhead. The mattress was a thick feather bed on top of a horsehair one, to give it support. The sheets were the finest linen, as she discovered when she pulled the embroidered coverlet back to check.
Francis exchanged a heated look with her. He made his intention clear; tonight they would share this bed.
Hastily, Virginia moved to the window. This one had casement openings, rather than the more fashionable sash ones, and the stone mullions spoke to their age, but after a cursory glance, her attention went to the view. “This is astonishing.”
Francis came up on her other side. “Yes, it is.”
The room looked out over the sea. Smooth, gray waves rippled beyond the greensward leading to the cliff edge. There was no fence to prevent anyone tipping over the edge. “I shall have to build a wall,” she said, her mind going over the ways this comfortable house could be transformed into an orphanage for fifteen children. The task would not be difficult, but that cliff edge worried her.
She caught herself up. “This doesn’t seem to be the best place for an orphanage.”
“It would be inadvisable,” he answered calmly.
This place agitated her. “The house is old. Do you think it has ghosts?”
“Undoubtedly.”
Her brow creased, but before she could turn away, he pulled her into his arms. “Don’t worry, we’re alone, and the floorboards will let us know. They creak if you so much as breathe on them.”
With her face buried against his chest, she laughed shakily. “Where did the men go?”
“To explore the rest of the place and bring up our trunk, presumably. The house is habitable. We’ll stay here at least tonight.”
In a snap, Virginia made her decision. How could she turn this man away? She loved him. And if she sent him away, this time she was certain he wouldn’t return. To see him marry anyone else would cause her such agony she didn’t think she could bear it.
“I wanted to see it.” She lifted her face and gazed up at him. “I’m not sure why now, because I won’t be doing anything with it. I’ll continue until I am officially informed to desist.”
He gazed at her, one brow raised.
“Yes, Francis. Yes, I’ll marry you.”
“Thank you.” Warmth flooded his gaze, and a sense of relief she had no idea he’d been carrying.
He dropped a light kiss on her forehead and nudged her with his nose, persuading her without words to tilt her head back further so he could kiss her lips.
With pleasure, she acceded to his unspoken request and returned his kiss. She was used to his way of kissing now and anticipated his kisses eagerly. Touching his lips with her tongue, now-familiar thrills of pleasure rippled through her. When she pressed her body against his, she found reassurance, as she always did in his arms.
She let go, released all her preconceptions. Began anew.
She was worth something to somebody, more than her dowry, or her behavior, or the connections she had made in the years of her widowhood. All those had been cited by suitors in the past, and she had sent them all away.
He caressed her tongue with his, then withdrew, finishing the kiss and lifting his head, his eyes warm. “Before we get too carried away, we should eat,” he murmured. “If there is any food in the house, that is.”
They separated, but not far. He kept his arm around her shoulders as they turned to leave the room.
“Here you are, ma’am,” Hurst said cheerfully as he carried their traveling case into the bedroom.
Francis did not remove his arm from her, nor did he let her pull away. “Thank you,” he said easily. “Is there anything for us to eat?”
“Plenty of food in the kitchen, sir. No staff, though. Mr. Butler says he can make a simple meal, but says he can’t create food as fancy as your cook.”
“I wouldn’t expect him to,” Francis said calmly. “I’m grateful that he can cook at all, which is more than I can. Did he say how long the food would be? I’m sharp set, and so must you be.”
Hurst glanced at Virginia before he returned his attention to Francis. Was he checking with her, or did he recognize the identity of the person giving the orders? Because by accepting Francis, Virginia had lost authority. When Francis was by, he was the natural master.
She knew what she was about to lose. But that was the way of the world, and she could do little about it now. A series of choices had brought her to this place. She had merely taken the final step.
Hurst bowed and left. Instead of following him, Francis led her to the couch at the bottom of the bed and sat her down. He took his place next to her. “Now before we take this final step, tell me what is troubling you,” he said. “I don’t believe it’s about the house, or the ghosts, or even being discovered in flagrante delicto, or very nearly so.”
“Of course it is! That is, yes, of course.” How could she tell him? Perhaps she should just come out with it. “Being totally dependent on another person terrifies me.”
“It is the state of all women, unless they remain unmarried. Do you know why?”
She shrugged. “An accumulation of things. My parents, mostly my father. The way they changed after my brother was born.” She smiled wryly. “I remember that night so clearly, the excitement I felt when I was told, and the breathtaking sight of the baby. But that night signaled the change in my life. I was no longer indulged. I was shown no favor, and instructed in everything a lady would be expected to know.
“One day I was the pampered, special child, and the next, the very next, I was nobody. I determined to be sufficient to myself, to ensure one per
son cared about me. After my one season, my mother told me I was a failure, and she washed her hands of me. I would not get another season, and I could not expect to live on their charity forever. She would look for a husband for me locally. That was what she said. Shortly after that Ralph arrived, and I all but fell on his neck.”
His silence told her that her lighthearted tone had not fooled him. “That explains a great deal. Ralph doted on you, did he not?”
She nodded. “In his way. Ralph did not love me as a man loves his wife. I was his pet, his possession. When I behaved well, he loved me. I should be grateful, he said, and I was. He’d taken me away from an intolerable situation and treated me with what I thought was kindness, taken notice of me.”
But she was not grateful, and that made her ashamed. Hastily, she continued. “After Ralph, and after my father, I turned my back on marriage, or lovers, or anything to do with men. I never expected—never thought I would marry again.” She hurried to explain herself. “I’ve been shot into this. I expected my life to continue on the course I set for myself. We avoided each other for years.”
“Because of this,” he said, touching his lips to her forehead again. “Feel that? Every time I touch you, that connection is refreshed and renewed. I want that for both of us, Virginia. God knows we deserve it.”
“I didn’t shun your mother because I wanted to.” Where that had come from she had no idea.
He smiled, the warmth in his eyes showing no doubts. “I know it now. And you didn’t approach her after you were widowed because you did not wish to get closer to me. Admit it.”
She couldn’t deny it. “I thought it for the best. You pushed, though, didn’t you?”
“I did. After Ralph died, I watched you. You were not the kind of person to despise a person because of her birth. I saw the pleasure you took in giving destitute children a home. That was not all obligation.”
Virginia And The Wolf Page 21