“She’s unmarried, I suppose?” asked Malcolm. When Rowena nodded, he shook his head. “I can see her now; a prim and proper spinster, glaring at me from behind spectacles.”
“That is not fair,” protested Rowena. “Helena is really quite lovely.”
“Then why is she unmarried?” retorted Malcolm.
Rowena looked nonplussed. “Really, Malcolm, Miss Keighley’s personal life is not what I wanted to talk to you about. Surely you can see that you must go to Wroxton and take care of this.”
“I don’t see why the bailiff can’t handle it.” Malcolm groaned when Rowena glared at him. “Oh, very well, I will go to Wroxton. You are right; I should have gone months ago. I am the new earl, and it’s time I took charge.”
At Rowena’s look of amazement, he laughed. “I’m not such a wastrel as you and Miss Keighley think, little sister. I know I should have visited long ago, but I didn’t want to force cousin Felix to leave hastily, and then, after he moved out—well, then other things happened, and I didn’t care to leave London. But it shouldn’t take long to tidy this up, and I can do the pretty in the county; talk to the gentry, visit the tenants, and be back in no time.”
Rowena blinked. “Thank you, Malcolm.”
He laughed. “You thought it would be much harder to convince me, didn’t you? But some time away from London won’t go amiss—Lady Hartsmoor seems determined that I shall marry that whey-faced daughter of hers, and if I make myself scarce, perhaps some other fool will catch her eye.”
“I’m just pleased you are going, and, to be truthful, I wouldn’t want you marrying Lady Maria; she seems dreadfully dull. I will write to Helena and tell her that you will be visiting Wroxton soon.” She paused. “You won’t take Mrs. Lacey with you, will you? I’m not sure the countryside is ready for her.”
“I doubt she’d go,” said Malcolm cheerfully. “She’s very fond of me, but fonder of her modiste, I’d say. And when I return she’ll be that much happier to see me.”
He stood and dropped a kiss on Rowena’s cheek. “I will try to not disgrace the Arlingby name,” he said teasingly. “But this Miss Keighley sounds terrifying. I only hope I can stand up to her!”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Rowena fondly. “I’m sure you will take care of things quickly, and Helena will be a great help to you. She is very sensible and intelligent.”
Malcolm grinned. “So, not my sort of woman at all,” he laughed. “I’ll leave in a few days, and be back before you know it.” He shook Alaric’s hand and, with a wink at Rowena, sauntered out of the room.
Rowena shook her head as the door closed behind him. Alaric walked over to her and took her in his arms.
“Why did you not tell him about Helena Keighley?” he asked.
Rowena wrinkled her nose. “He was gone when the scandal broke, and does not know of it. There is no reason to spread gossip, particularly when I have no idea what truly happened. Helena never speaks of it, and I know better than most about being compromised! I see no reason to cause her further distress.”
“He is expecting a dried up spinster,” said Alaric. “I’d say Miss Keighley will be a bit of a surprise.”
Rowena laughed. “Indeed, she will. I suppose it is too much to hope that Malcolm will understand how extraordinary she is.”
“Your brother? He can’t see past the end of his nose,” said Alaric. At Rowena’s cross look, he chuckled. “And now, my dear, I am weary of the subject of the Earl of Wroxton. Perhaps we can find a more congenial way to amuse ourselves.”
With that, he lowered his lips to Rowena’s, and she very soon put Malcolm out of her mind.
Chapter 2
Malcolm left Brayleigh House in a thoughtful mood. He knew Rowena was right, and that he should have traveled to his estate long ago. But he had always found an excellent excuse not to visit; at first he had not wanted to rush the removal of his cousin, who had been named the earl after he was declared dead, and then there had been innumerable amusements to attend and the threads of old friendships to pick up. And Estella, of course. She had blown into his life and into his bed in a matter of days, a situation that he did not regret.
In his more reflective moments, he realized too that he had avoided visiting Wroxton because it made him think of his father and the days before his own exile on the continent. He had respected his father, but as a youth had thought him too staid and serious. It had seemed as though his father’s interest in his estates and his books had kept him from enjoying life to its fullest. Visiting the Wroxton lands as the new earl would mean that it was time for him to take up the responsibilities and duties of his father.
Malcolm ran a hand through his fair hair and frowned. It had to be faced, he supposed. It was not as though he would have to stay long, though. He would nip down to Kent, make sure the local authorities were on the job, spend a week or so placating the neighbors, and see to it that Miss Keighley was no longer upset. It was a good thing she was a spinster, he thought. He knew the ladies found his dashing ways attractive, and he had little doubt he would be able to charm her.
His steps led him to his house in Audley Street, and he entered the hallway with a frown on his face. He started slightly when he saw Estella in the center of the room, looking charming in a lavender-hued muslin morning dress with vandyked trim. She gazed into the mirror, holding a deep poke bonnet, as though she had just been preparing to nestle it over the abundance of dark brown ringlets that surrounded her piquant face.
She blinked her large hazel eyes at him in the mirror and turned, smiling. “What are you doing back here so quickly?” she asked. “I was just leaving.”
Malcolm paused a moment to admire her fine figure, and then took her hand. “It’s just as well. I need to talk to you.”
He led her across the hall and into the library. When he closed the door behind them, she glanced up at him.
“What did you need to say to me, Malcolm?” she purred, moving closer to him.
“It’s not that, Estella,” said Malcolm hastily. At the look on her face, he shook his head. “Not that I’d mind at all, but I do want to talk to you for a moment.”
“Talk?” said Estella. “You rarely want to do that. What is this about?”
Malcolm sat down in a chair and Estella seated herself across from him, her expression slightly bewildered. “It’s just that I need to go down to Wroxton for a week or so,” he said.
“Whatever for?” asked Estella. “Surely your bailiff can handle matters for you. The countryside at this time of year would be dismal.”
“No doubt. But I’ve avoided it as long as I can, and now there is a matter of smugglers. The neighbors think they’re using my property and want me to put a stop to it.”
“You?” Estella laughed. “You’d be more likely to encourage them, no doubt. I’ve never known you to question where your brandy comes from.”
Malcolm grinned reluctantly. “It’s not that I particularly care about the smugglers. But they’re upsetting the tenants and the neighboring gentry. My sister tells me it is high time I take up my duties as earl, and if I mean to do right by the land, I need to take an interest in Wroxton.”
Estella pouted charmingly. “Your sister again. Why does she feel she needs to meddle in your life?”
“My sister is the reason I’m the Earl of Wroxton, and not dead, or still cooling my heels on the Continent,” observed Malcolm. “Besides, in this case, she is right. I need to take care of this.”
“Are you sure she’s not simply trying to get you away from me?” asked Estella.
“Well, I don’t suppose it bothers her that we’ll be apart, but I don’t think that’s her main concern.”
Estella glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “I could go with you,” she ventured.
Malcolm laughed. “Didn’t you just say the country is dismal at this time of year? I would enjoy your company, but it won’t do to shock the gentry on my first visit home in twelve years. It’s not that I won’t miss
you, Estella, but you wouldn’t be happy at Wroxton.”
“So you will simply leave me here alone? I shall grow bored,” she warned.
“Don’t try to make me feel sorry for you; I doubt you’ll miss me for a second,” said Malcolm cheerfully. “A little time apart will only make it that much more pleasant when we see each other again.”
“What if I find another man to amuse me?” asked Estella.
“That’s your business, darling,” said Malcolm cheerfully. “I never asked you to be true to me.”
Estella made an exasperated noise. “You might at least pretend you care for me,” she said.
Malcolm chuckled. “If you thought I cared for you, you’d take advantage of me, my dear,” he said. “But I’ll admit that I will miss you, especially at night.”
Estella smiled winningly. “I will miss you, too,” she murmured.
“Then I’ll look forward to my return,” said Malcolm cheerfully. “I’ll wrap up this little problem and take care of Miss Keighley as quick as can be and come back to town before you have time to notice I’ve gone.”
“Miss Keighley?” asked Estella.
“Aye,” said Malcolm. “She’s the daughter of the neighboring estate. It seems she wrote to my sister to complain of the smugglers. I take it she’s a bit of a dragon and will need some soothing.”
“Miss Helena Keighley?” asked Estella.
“Dash it, stop saying her name over and over,” said Malcolm. “Yes, Miss Helena Keighley.”
“Oh,” said Estella, stretching the word out to several syllables.
“Oh, what?” asked Malcolm crossly.
“I think I am acquainted with your Miss Keighley.”
“She’s not my Miss Keighley. She sounds remarkably as though she’s nobody’s Miss Keighley.”
“Well, then I believe I know Miss Helena Keighley,” said Estella testily. “We are much of an age, and she came out the same year I did.”
“Well, she’s unmarried, so I gather she didn’t make a splash.”
“Oh, she made a splash.” Estella grinned smugly.
“Damn it, Estella, if you want to tell me something, tell me,” said Malcolm peevishly. “I can’t abide this hinting about.”
Estella shrugged. “Very well. Miss Keighley was quite lovely, if you care for lanky redheads.”
“I prefer petite brunettes, myself,” retorted Malcolm promptly.
“I suppose I should be glad of that,” Estella said coyly. “As I said, she was quite lovely in her own way, but she didn’t attract many suitors.”
“Why was that?” asked Malcolm.
“She seemed to think rather highly of herself. She was forever expressing her opinions. The gentlemen were rather taken aback.”
Malcolm grinned. “I imagine they were. Rowena has that effect on men, though Brayleigh doesn’t seem to care.”
“Well, I thought her quite tiresome. I suppose someone would eventually have made her an offer, as her family is wealthy, but then something happened.” Estella paused dramatically.
“I suppose it must have, as she is unmarried,” said Malcolm unhurriedly.
Estella glowered at him for a moment. “If you are minded to be unpleasant, I won’t go on.”
Malcolm shrugged. “Then don’t. I’ve no interest in old scandals.”
“Oh, you are impossible.” Estella shrugged. “But I will tell you, though you don’t deserve that I should. “
“I thought you might.”
“One night, at a rout at Montagu House, she was discovered in a compromising situation with Lord Denby,” said Estella, lowering her voice in a conspiratorial manner. “They were quite alone in a curtained anteroom, and he was holding her in his arms!”
Malcolm wrinkled his nose. “I can’t like Denby,” he observed. “He always seems to be a bit underbred.”
“That is not the point,” said Estella, exasperated. “Miss Keighley apparently found him attractive enough! But then something even more shocking happened!”
“Well, I’m not particularly shocked by your first revelation. I know from experience that things aren’t always what they appear.”
“You cannot possibly be defending her,” objected Estella.
“I don’t know the woman, why would I defend her?” said Malcolm. “Especially as she’s making my life deuced uncomfortable just now. I only said things aren’t always as seem.”
“Really, you can be so tiresome at times.” Estella paused, and then leapt back into her story. “As I said, the story became more complicated. Lord Denby proposed, of course, as he was honor bound. But Miss Keighley turned him down!”
“Did she so?” asked Malcolm. “Smart girl. As I said, Denby always makes me a bit uncomfortable.”
“Well, she was kissing him, so I have no idea why she turned him down. She was ruined, of course! No man would have her, as she clearly had no care at all of her virtue!”
Malcolm laughed at that. “Since when do you have such a care of yours, Estella?”
Estella drew herself up. “I am married, and there is no breath of doubt with regard to my sons’ parentage,” she replied, offended.
“Very true, but you haven’t seen your husband in weeks,” said Malcolm. “And it’s no secret whose bed you are in each night.”
“But I am married and Richard doesn’t care,” Estella repeated.
“Ah, I see. That makes all the difference.”
“It does indeed,” said Estella. “We all know how these things work. If you mean to say Miss Keighley is much like me, I think I will be very hurt.”
“Oh, I’m sure she’s not like you at all,” murmured Malcolm.
Estella looked at him closely, wondering whether to be offended. She finally smiled charmingly. “You are such a wretch. I am convinced you are trying to provoke me.”
Malcolm smiled lazily. “Now, why would I want to do that? I am happiest when you are pleased with me, to be sure.”
“If you wish me to be pleased with you, you will no longer compare me to Miss Keighley.”
“If you will forgive me, I am tired of the subject,” said Malcolm. “Surely there is something more interesting we can do than discuss a spinster I do not remember who is doing her best to make my life uncomfortable.”
Estella glanced at him from under her lashes. “I was about to leave. But if you wish, I could stay for a bit.”
“A capital idea,” said Malcolm.
Chapter 3
One week later Malcolm rode up to Keighley Hall on a well-made dark bay hack. He eyed the timber-framed manor house closely; while it was several centuries old, it was well-kept, and the paths and grounds surrounding it were manicured and verdant. Clearly, whoever was attending to the property had a fine attention to detail.
A footman emerged from the house to take the reins of his horse, and he dismounted gracefully, with a word of thanks.
“Is Sir Arthur at home?” he asked.
“Sir Arthur is out,” said the manservant. “But if your business is anything to do with the estate, you’d be wanting Miss Keighley.”
Malcolm sighed. He had hoped he might be able to avoid the redoubtable Miss Keighley. But he knew when he was defeated. “Is Miss Keighley available, then?”
“She’s not in the house,” ventured the footman. “She’d be down at the stables. I don’t know how long it will be before she returns.”
“I have business with her that can’t wait. I’ll find her for myself.”
“Miss Keighley might prefer that you wait in the house,” said the footman doubtfully. “I could show you in and fetch her for you.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Malcolm assured him. “I know her from when we were children. I doubt she will care.”
Under the manservant’s doubtful gaze, Malcolm stalked off in the direction of the stables. As he walked, he looked around him, absently admiring the tidiness of the grounds. It compared favorably to Wroxton, and he felt a pang of guilt about the neglect his ancestral lands ha
d suffered over the past months. Miss Keighley clearly knew well how to run an estate. He was too accustomed to Rowena’s unconventional behavior to consider that odd, but he nonetheless felt a reluctance to meet her. He had a constitutional dislike of being managed, and feared that Miss Keighley was very much the sort of woman who would feel he was in need of guidance.
Miss Helena Keighley pushed a lock of auburn hair out of her eyes and sighed, as she felt at the loose bun into which she had gathered her hair before coming out to check on the horses that morning. Reassured that it was not going to come down completely, she rubbed her hands over the canvas apron that covered her faded blue-grey linsey-woolsey dress, and the equally worn dark blue spencer she wore over it, and gazed at the groom and the horse he was holding in the barn aisle.
“Is he lame, Macklin?” she asked.
“Yes, came out of his stall this morning limping, miss,” the groom replied.
“Poor boy,” Helena crooned to the horse, as she reached down to lift his hoof. She felt it carefully, finding a sensitive spot. “You can feel the heat in it. ‘Tis almost certainly an abscess. Soak it in epsom salts, and put a drawing poultice on it. Perhaps we can bring it to the surface, so it will drain.”
“Aye miss, I thought the same. I expect we’ll have a bit of a time with him for the next few weeks though. The wet weather in the spring always seems to bring it out in him.”
Helena smiled her agreement, and patted the horse’s neck in sympathy, then blew gently at his soft nose. The smile brought a glow to her face, and lit up her large brown eyes. Framed with thick black lashes despite her auburn hair, and surmounted by finely shaped brows, they typically surveyed the world with a bit of cynicism, but were softened now by her affection for the horse. She had a straight nose, high cheekbones and plush-lipped mouth above a very firm chin. With her fine complexion and delicate color, she presented a rather startling contrast to the decidedly shabby garments she wore. Helena turned her attention from the horse, removed her apron and looked at the groom.
The Contraband Courtship (The Arlingbys Book 2) Page 2