They set off down the road four abreast until they came to a stile. “If we climb over here,” announced Kate, “we can go across the small pasture. Otherwise,” she apologized, “it is more than a mile by road.”
Harry hung back so that James was nearest Kate and was the one to hand her over the stile. Then he clambered over and turned back to offer Lynette his hand. He concentrated all his attention on his hand touching hers, but she took it matter-of-factly and let it go immediately, and Harry could feel no magnetism between them at all.
The path through the pasture was narrow, and so they walked two by two, Kate chattering away to James in front of them. The elder Miss Richmond was silent, and Harry could think of no opening except to ask her what her father’s work was about.
“He has been working on a religious history of Britain,” she answered.
“Ah, Early Christianity, Bede, that sort of thing,” Harry commented politely. It sounded boring.
“No, although Father was preparing for ordination at one time. He is exploring the old religion.”
“Old religion?”
“The practices of those who were responsible for the structures at Stonehenge and Avebury.”
“Paganism?”
“Yes, one could call it that. But unfortunately that always carries a negative connotation. And the word itself originally only meant country dwellers. It is the connection to the earth that seems to distinguish our ancestors’ belief from ours.”
Harry stole a glance over at Miss Richmond. Yes, her silver-gilt hair was as glorious in the sun as he had imagined. Her profile would have delighted any artist. Yet here she was, picking her way along a path studded with sheep droppings, discoursing as though she were a don strolling the quad at Magdalene!
“And do you have a particular interest within this field?”
“Yes, I am trying to show that many of the customs that survive in our small villages today had their roots in ancient fertility rites.”
Harry started coughing, and Lynette turned to him with immediate concern. “Oh, are we going too fast for you, Lord Sidmouth?”
“No, no, not at all. I’ll be fine in a moment.” As soon as I can be sure I will not disgrace myself by laughing, he thought. What a wonderful irony: such a rare beauty and such frankness about matters, uh, physical, he thought.
“Perhaps you will show me some of what you have been working on, Miss Richmond?”
Lynette looked over at him with such pleasure that Harry almost felt guilty. Almost. “I would be delighted to,” she answered softly. “It is not often that anyone is interested. Or takes my interest seriously.”
They had reached the main road into town by then, and as they joined the others, Harry felt that he was perhaps a little closer to his kiss than before they started.
* * * *
Ten minutes later, as they walked up the High Street, Kate turned to the two men and pointed out the pub. “Our errands are rather commonplace,” she announced. “The butcher, the baker—”
“The candlestickmaker,” joked James. That was about as close to flirting as James would ever get, thought Harry with amusement. He wondered whether James was attracted to Miss Kate Richmond. They certainly seemed to have found enough to chat about during their walk.
“The greengrocers,” said Kate with an appreciative smile. “Anyway, perhaps you would prefer a pint of ale, and we could arrange to meet you in an hour?”
Harry would have loved a pint, but was loathe to give up any time with Miss Richmond. He was pleased, therefore, when James immediately protested and said that they would be happy to accompany the two women on their errands.
And so they slowly proceeded up the street. They stopped at the butcher’s to pick up bacon, and Kate explained that Lady Elizabeth said she put enough energy into her sheep, thank you, and would not raise her own pigs. They bought cheese. “This is our own Wensleydale,” Kate told them proudly, as she broke off a few pieces and gave them to Harry and James, who were suitably impressed. “It has been made in the dale for centuries. In fact,” she added, with a gleam in her eye, “we are also famous for our dairymaids. Or rather, I should say infamous. Centuries ago, the old abbots were so concerned about their morality, or lack thereof, that they restricted themselves to ‘older, ill-favored’ females!”
“Then certainly you and Miss Richmond would not have qualified,” said James. “Not, that is to say,” he continued, flustered by his foray into gallantry, “that you would be seeking employment as dairymaids. Or any sort of maid.”
“Now, Jamie, you are only digging yourself deeper.” Harry laughed. “Lord Clitheroe is not in the habit of complimenting young ladies,” he explained.
“Lord Clitheroe,” said Kate with a glint in her eye, “your compliments are gratefully accepted, all the more because they are sincere and unpracticed. A fresh compliment is worth so much more than old coin, don’t you think, Lord Sidmouth?” she added with barbed sweetness.
“Absolutely, Miss Kate.”
Harry had been watching Miss Richmond as James stumbled over his compliment. She neither blushed nor simpered, or indeed responded except to nod her agreement with her sister and give James a detached smile. She seemed to be removed from the whole conversation. Perhaps, thought Harry, she was thinking of fertility rites!
Their last stop was for the post. There were several letters, but one especially excited the Misses Richmond. It was on creamy, expensive-looking vellum and had already been franked.
“A letter from Gareth! From London. He and Arden must have already moved into Town for the Season. I am eager to get home now and hear the latest news.”
As they made their way back, Harry found himself thinking about the remoteness of Richmond House. The two girls had grown up so differently from others of their class. A letter from London was probably a high point in their sheltered lives. That was what came of marrying for love, he thought. Lady Elizabeth an exile from her family. And her two daughters growing up in the wilds of Yorkshire. And yet they seemed a happy, if unconventional family.
The letter was placed on the parlor table where it would wait until teatime. The groceries were delivered to Janie, who, commenting on the lovely day, offered to make them a picnic.
“We could go partway up the fell,” suggested Kate. “But perhaps you are not up to more walking, Lord Sidmouth.”
Harry actually did not feel up to it. He would have been happier to take a nap. But he was not about to admit his weakness or give up any available time with the elusive Miss Richmond, so he just smiled and said a picnic sounded delightful.
“Are you sure, Harry?” asked James. “You do look a bit drawn.”
“I am fine, James, I assure you,” his friend answered with the edge in his voice that meant: Don’t press any further.
Janie prepared them a basket of cheese and apples and homemade bread. “I’ve put in cider for t’ lasses and a few bottles of ale for t’gentlemen. Tha should enjoy tha lunch.”
* * *
Chapter 9
Kate, who had looked more closely at Lord Sidmouth as James questioned him, had seen the drawn look around his mouth. She was sure he was tired and just too stubborn to admit it. As she watched him walk ahead of her, she noticed that his limp was a bit more pronounced and that he was leaning heavily on his staff. And so she picked a spot closer to the house than she had originally planned, so that he did not have to do much climbing.
James spread out the rug, and Kate unwrapped the cheese and bread and placed them in the middle. “There. We shall be very informal and help ourselves.”
There was only one knife, so Kate sliced the cheese and apples while the others pulled off chunks of bread.
“This may be the high point of our trip,” said James contentedly, after a long swallow of ale.
“I would agree with you,” Harry added. “The bluest sky, the best home brew, and most certainly, the natural beauty of Yorkshire.” He turned to Lynette and gave her a slight bow.
Let us see what the oh-so-charming Lord Sidmouth does with that, thought Kate, delighted at the look of chagrin that flitted across his face.
“I think that Lord Sidmouth was referring to a more particular beauty,” said James with his eyes cast down, as though he was afraid to look up and see for himself Miss Richmond’s look of indifference. “You young ladies contribute to the specialness of the day.”
Kate smiled and thanked him. Harry watched Lynette for her reaction. If his own practiced charm got nowhere, he assumed James’s laborious compliments would also go unnoticed. He was surprised, therefore, to see Miss Richmond look quickly at James and then lower her own eyes, as though in embarrassment.
James, flustered by another unaccustomed foray into the world of flirtation, reached for his bottle of ale and took a long drink.
“How long have you lived in Sedbusk, Miss Kate?” asked Harry to break the rather charged silence.
“All my life, Lord Sidmouth. It was my father’s inheritance, and when he and my mother eloped, they came here.”
Somehow it was hard for Harry to picture the slightly balding Mr. Richmond and the tall, spare Lady Elizabeth as ever being young and romantic enough to elope.
“The Tremayne family was against the match then?”
“Yes, my father came from a good family, but as a younger son, had nothing but this house to offer, once he decided not to continue in the church. Not that they would have been happy for my mother to marry a clergyman either.”
“I would not have thought a life of scholarship lucrative enough to support a family. But I should not be so prying.”
“That is all right, my lord. Your curiosity is understandable. My mother took over the sheep farm and made it a thriving business.”
“Do you never feel lonely here?”
“Never. I cannot imagine a more beautiful place to live,” said Kate. She was lying, of course, she thought to herself. Or at least, not telling the whole truth. It had been and was a wonderful place to live. But she was lonely, especially now that Gareth was gone. Oh, they had good neighbors and attended the occasional assembly in Bainbridge. But much as she loved her parents and her sister, she and Gareth were the only two in the family who were at all conscious of the unconventionality of their life. She was a practical young woman, she had no illusions, and she had realized a few years ago that she would probably never marry unless she ended up settling for one of the local gentlemen, most of whom were twenty years older. And she could not imagine Lynette finding someone sympathetic to her intellectual pursuits. Right this moment, looking up into Lord Sidmouth’s very attractive face, she found herself minding her situation very much. Over the years she had met a few of Gareth’s friends from university, but this was the first time she and her sister had socialized with two attractive and eligible men. It made her very conscious that what they were missing, most young girls of their class would have taken for granted.
Harry had at first taken her answer at face value, and then he noticed a swift change of expression on her face. He was willing to bet that Miss Kate Richmond, while appreciating the beauty of her surroundings, also missed the companionship of other young women and men. He felt a moment’s sympathy for her, but then was drawn back into more general conversation with James.
After a few minutes the combination of ale and sun began to take effect, and Harry stretched himself out, head propped on his elbow. He gave up the attempt to keep up his part of the conversation, and very soon his eyes had closed as he dozed off.
It took a few minutes for the others to notice. It was only when James said, “Isn’t that right, Harry?” and received no reply that the others realized what had happened.
“I apologize for Lord Sidmouth, ladies,” said James. “I think the walking today did him in.”
“We should get back to the house, but I hate to wake him,” said Kate.
“Why don’t I pack up and escort you and Miss Richmond back to the house,” James suggested. “Then I will come back for Harry.”
“Oh, I’d hate to have him awaken and think we had deserted him. Why don’t I stay with him and we can return together.”
“I am not sure I should leave you alone like that,” James responded hesitantly. “And shouldn’t you accompany your sister?”
“I appreciate your concern, Lord Clitheroe,” said Kate with a smile. “But we are less formal here in the country, and it is only a short way to the house, after all.”
“Well, then, I will come back as quickly as I can.”
Kate watched as James and Lynette made their way back down the path. He was very solicitous. No doubt both he and Lord Sidmouth had been captivated by Lynette’s beauty. If her sister hadn’t been so used to and indifferent to her effect on men, Kate might well have resented her. But as it was, she paid little attention to men’s reactions.
Kate allowed herself to let go of all practical concerns and just sat there with her back against the stone wall, face up to the sun. She was not asleep, but so relaxed that she had almost forgotten her companion, when a nearby curlew’s call must have awakened him.
He started up and looked around him wildly, as though the bird had been announcing danger. He appeared so distraught, that without thinking, Kate reached her hand out to his shoulder to reassure him. He instantly grabbed her wrist and pulling her down in front of him, he pinned her to the rug. When she let out a little cry of fear, he shook his head, his eyes focused, and he immediately released her. In the moment before he recognized her, Kate had seen on his face naked intent, as though for a second he was only all-focused will. She knew that had this been Spain, had she really been the enemy, she would have been dead within seconds.
She sat up and rubbed her wrist, watching him carefully for any sign of movement. He looked over, finally seeing her and realized her eyes were wide with fear. She looked like a deer caught in torchlight.
Harry ran both his hands through his hair, pulling at it as though to waken himself completely, and looked around as though to remind himself he was indeed in England and not on the Peninsula. Taking a deep breath, he let his hands drop to his knees, looking at them as if they were a stranger’s.
“I am so sorry, Miss Kate. I must have come out of a deep sleep very suddenly. I assure you, I am not in the habit of attacking women. In fact, I wasn’t even aware at first that you were a woman.”
“Oh, I could see that, my lord,” whispered Kate.
Harry rubbed his hands over his eyes. “I must have frightened you terribly. I don’t know what else to say except that when one is in the field, one survives only by developing the ability to react instantly, without thinking.”
Kate just sat there, rubbing her wrist.
“Here, let me see your arm,” Harry said, as gently as possible.
Kate held it out to him, looking as if she were afraid to refuse.
“You need not be afraid of me now, Miss Kate,” he said. “I am very aware of where I am.”
Her arm was red with the imprint of his fingers. “I am afraid you will have some bruises in the morning, but I don’t think it is sprained,” he said as he released it gently. “Where are James and your sister?”
“They returned to the house, my lord. We didn’t want to disturb you, so I stayed here so that you wouldn’t feel deserted when you awoke.”
“And I repaid your act of kindness by hurting you.”
“I am fine, my lord,” answered Kate in a stronger voice. “And I think I understand.”
“Do you, Miss Kate?” he said bitterly.
“I imagine it must be difficult to let go of all that enabled you to survive a war, my lord.”
“Did your brother tell you anything of war, Miss Kate?”
“No, we never could get him to speak of it.”
>
“Well, it is sometimes unspeakable.”
They sat quietly for a moment, and then Kate said, “I think I see Lord Clitheroe coming up the path.”
Harry got up, feeling stiff and old. When James reached them, Harry had already folded up the rug and handed it to his friend as James came up smiling and ready to tease Harry about his nap.
“I see you are awake at last!”
“Yes, James. Here, take the rug and Miss Kate and get them back to the house. I am going to take a few minutes to walk the stiffness out of my knee.” Harry grabbed his staff and, turning his back on them both, limped up the path.
“Come, Lord Clitheroe, it is getting chillier and I would like to get back to the house. Lord Sidmouth needs some time on his own.”
James saw that he would get no explanation of Harry’s abrupt behavior from her, and so he offered his arm and they proceeded slowly down the path.
* * * *
Although his knee was bothering him, Harry found the slow walk up the hill restored him to his surroundings. He was here, watching that stone, not there, a fine-tuned instrument of death. But he would not think of it, would not remember it. It was only in the in-between world of sleep that it came back to him. For the most part, if he kept himself busy, if he thought only of women and how he could get this one or that to kiss him, then he had no memories.
But how would he ever look Miss Kate Richmond in the face again?
* * *
Chapter 10
It was close to teatime when Harry returned, and he changed quickly, wondering what, if anything, Miss Kate had told her sister or James. When he got to the table, however, he was greeted naturally by everyone, including Kate.
All the attention, he was relieved to discover, was focused on Lady Elizabeth, who was reading the letter they had picked up in Hawes. She was reading it to herself, with accompanying “hmms” and “aha’s” when Kate finally let out her impatience.
Heartless Lord Harry Page 4