Seemingly less affected than she, he tackled the other.
He tied the laces with nimble fingers. When he’d finished, Harriett released the breath she’d held. After he rose, his touch on her ankle seemed to linger. She picked up her bonnet and donned it. “I’m not sure I should thank you. Touching my ankle was quite disreputable.”
His blue eyes beneath dark brows gazed into hers. “But you didn’t stop me.”
She frowned. “We should return to the house. It’s a long way, I’ll be missed.” Harriett tied her bonnet ribbons firmly and strode out along the path. She remembered when she was fifteen, and he twenty-two, he had appeared rakish and incredibly grown up. Somehow, six years later, she seemed to have caught up to him.
He grasped her arm. “Why rush away? I want to talk to you. We haven’t seen each other for years.” He fingered an auburn lock which had freed itself during her exertions. “I remember your hair, how it glowed like fire in the sun and fell past your waist, always untidy.”
“You used to pull my braids.” She stared up into his deep blue eyes, which held a hint of amusement.
“I’m itching to do it again.” He gave the lock a gentle tug.
There was a pause. Harriett’s breath quickened. “Were you digging in the shrubbery?” she asked, to steady herself. “Surely Harrison can afford gardeners.”
“Indeed he can.”
She waited for an explanation, but apparently, she wasn’t going to get one. He continued toward the house. “Let’s have afternoon tea, I’m parched.”
She followed him as he strode across the lawn; his long legs encased in leather breeches and scuffed riding boots that she doubted a valet had ever laid a hand on. A brown cloth coat hugged his slim waist. He looked very much what he was, a farmer. But he was also a peer of the realm, who apparently chose not to come often to London. She wondered if he took his seat in the House of Lords.
“I rode over from Foxworth,” he said. “Often do. To keep the old chap company.”
“That’s good of you.”
He gave her a level look. “I’m not after his money. He won’t leave me a penny. The old family feud. Told me so often enough.”
“People with money wield such power, don’t you think?” Harriett said thoughtfully. “They have everyone dancing attendance on them, and then when they finally die, they are not remembered with fondness.”
“Perhaps Harrison doesn’t allow anyone to get close enough to know him.”
Harriett doubted Harrison had hidden depths of kindness, but one could never be sure.
“You are not yet betrothed, Harry.” It wasn’t a question, as she wore no ring. and no one in the family married or departed this earth without a great deal of notice.
“I haven’t found anyone I like well enough to spend the rest of my life with,” she said as they mounted the steps.
“Nor have I,” he said, removing his hat.
She crossed to the front door studying the dark curls on the back of his neck, suddenly reluctant to share him with the family. It was disturbing how Gerard made her pulse race in a way Mr. Ducksworth had failed to do.
“What is it you look for in a wife?”
He grinned. “Someone with a sense of humor, perhaps.”
Harriett wondered if he would change his mind when he saw Leonora. She sorely lacked a sense of humor, but it didn’t seem to worry men at all.
“And what about you, Harry? What sort of husband do you seek?”
“Someone who doesn’t quote reams of his own prose to me,” she said, thinking of Mr. Ducksworth.
He laughed. “Not romantically inclined, then, young Harry?”
Harriet felt very grownup when he looked at her with those blue eyes. She definitely had the ability to be romantic with the right person, but she merely shook her head.
“Living in London, I would have thought some Pink of the Ton would have snapped you up by now.” He cocked his head with a grin. “Hopefully not one who favors so ridiculously a high collar he cannot turn his head.”
Mr. Ducksworth’s intricately tied cravat swam into her vision. “Certainly not.” She turned to continue along the corridor.
They entered the parlor, where her parents greeted Gerard warmly. Her mother sent the maid for a fresh pot of tea.
“Good to see you, lad,” Harrison said, throwing off his shawl.
“You seem much better today, sir,” Gerard said. He strolled over to the window and opened the curtains. Without a murmur of complaint about the sun shining in his eyes, Harrison began an inventory of his ailments, some quite disgusting in Harriet’s opinion. She longed to cover her ears or leave the room, but was a captive audience along with her parents, and could do neither.
“When you feel up to it, we need to discuss some estate matters,” Gerard said to Harrison.
Harrison nodded and slumped limply in his chair as if it was all beyond him.
Leonora wound a golden curl around her finger, and released it to spring back and nestle against the flawless skin of her cheek. “Why don’t you come to London, Gerard? We haven’t seen you for ages.”
He smiled at her. “Confess, you hardly remember me at all.”
Leonora gave a peal of laughter. “I do too. That last time was when you were home from Oxford.”
“I keep to the country these days. I’m a farmer.”
“But you are now an earl since your papa died, are you not?” she said, earning a sharp glance from her mother.
“A slightly impoverished one.” Gerard took a cup of tea from her mother. “Thank you.”
“But you have that big house and acres and acres of land,” Leonora persisted.
“Mortgaged to the hilt,” Gerard said mournfully, taking a proffered cucumber sandwich.
“Sorry to hear it, my boy,” her father said. “I always thought your father to be a good manager.”
“There was a savage downturn in the market. He had some failed investments in his final years, I’m afraid.”
Father nodded. “Bad times can descend on us all.”
Leonora bounced to her feet. “Might a maid show me to my room? I’d like to change my clothes.”
“Oh, you can’t stay here!” Harrison puffed out his cheeks in dismay. “The rooms are all under covers. I only use two or three these days. This place is too expensive to run.”
“But, Harrison, I wrote to you,” her mother spluttered.
“I never read letters, a complete waste of time.”
“We’ve come all this way,” Mama said desperately. “The horses are spent.”
“Is there a decent hostelry nearby?” her father asked. “We can visit you again tomorrow before we return to London.”
“I wouldn’t recommend the one just outside Temple Ewell. It’s a poorly run place. And there’s nothing else for miles,” Gerard said. “But it’s of no consequence; you are most welcome to stay with me at Foxworth.”
“Is there a posting-house? Perhaps I can travel by stage to London.” Leonora gazed hopefully at her parents. “I could still attend Lady Frodsham’s ball.”
“You shall do no such thing,” Mama said. “Thank you, Gerard, we’d be most grateful to spend a night under your roof.”
Gerard nodded. “I’ll be pleased to escort you there. I’ll send for your carriage.”
After Gerard left the room, silence descended.
Mama gazed at Harrison her forehead wrinkling. “I do hope we find you in better spirits tomorrow, Cousin.”
Harrison waved a hand airily. “I don’t expect to be in better spirits ever again. But call tomorrow if you must.”
“Well, I never,” Mama murmured as they crossed to the waiting carriage. “He never suffered from a surfeit of charm, but I declare he’s become most impolite. A positive recluse.”
“I thought he looked quite well,” Father said in an annoyed tone. “Apart from the blasted heat in that room which made us all break out in a sweat.”
“Don’t swear, dear,” Mama said,
as he assisted her inside.
Father winked at Harriett. “Harrison would make an archdeacon cuss.”
♥♥♥
Gerard rode his roan along the country lane ahead of the Edgerton carriage. He’d been uneasy about their visit, but welcomed having family around him again. It made him realize that he’d cut himself off from society of late. It was some time since he’d gone to an assembly. He looked forward to the evening. He liked Lord and Lady Edgerton and it was agreeable to have two pretty ladies to entertain. The girls had grown up since he’d seen them last.
He mustn’t get ahead of himself, for what could he offer a wife, when he was barely earning enough to keep his estate functioning and his tenants’ roofs over their heads? Not to mention the other business, that rendered him patently unsuitable to be a husband. Once confronted with a vision of feminine beauty, however, breathing in her fragrance, and listening to the delightful peel of her laugh, made him yearn for a different life. He had to keep a cool head, and resolutely dismissed any romantic notions. That would have to wait until the situation changed and matters improved. Lord Edgerton had his own financial concerns. He would want to see his daughters better settled.
Chapter Three
The Edgerton carriage rattled along behind Gerard on horseback over rough, narrow country lanes edged with white flowering hawthorn and lilac dog violets. Her mother turned from the window. “Gerard will have to marry money. Unless Harrison plans to leave him his fortune.”
“Do you think he might?” Leonora said, sitting up. She peeped out at the graceful man looking totally at home in the saddle.
Exasperated, Harriett watched her sister place her hand out of the window, and allow her handkerchief to catch the breeze. “Gerard thinks it’s unlikely.”
“I believe so.” Her mother waved away an inquisitive bluebottle with her fan. “Harrison quarreled with Gerard’s father years ago over a boundary fence. The dreadful rift was never resolved. Harrison swore no money of his would ever go to his brother’s family.”
Leonora pouted. “I think that’s mean.”
“Family feuds are stupid,” Harriett said, shaking her head. “If anyone deserves his fortune, it’s Gerard. He’s the only one who takes an interest in Harrison’s welfare.”
“It’s impossible for anyone to assist him,” Mama complained. “He discourages one at every turn.”
“As if he doesn’t want anyone to come there,” Father said.
Fields of deep pink flowers stretched out beyond the hedgerows. “How pretty, we should stop and pick some,” Leonora said.
“I believe that’s fodder for the cattle,” Harriett said gazing out. “You would ruin your new boots wandering through the cow pats.”
Leonora wrinkled her nose. “So much of the country is vastly unpleasant.”
The carriage passed beneath the stone gatehouse archway carved with the Foxworth coat of arms.
“I’m glad Gerard hasn’t neglected the gardens,” Mama said, as a gardener came into view digging amongst banks of flowering azaleas and rhododendrons, the borders bright with wall flowers, hyacinths and peonies. The carriage trundled down an avenue of limes to the rambling, Elizabethan manor house.
Leonora turned from the window. “I wonder if we can persuade Gerard to visit us in London. He could escort us to routs and balls.”
Mama smiled. “Would you like him to, my love?”
“It might be amusing.”
“To have one more beau on your arm?” Her father laughed. “As if you don’t have enough. Heaven help us once you’re unleashed onto society. We shall be swamped with hapless youths, and worse.”
“Dear me, Edgerton, I wish you wouldn’t speak so. You can never have too many suitors,” Mama said firmly.
The carriage stopped. Eager to see Foxworth again, Harriett straightened her bonnet and gathered up her skirts as the groom put down the steps.
The half-timbered house awaited them, its bay windows reflecting the sun. Bees hummed around the lavender, and daisies grew along the path. Ducks waddled through the reeds of a small pond. They crossed the cobbled courtyard to the entrance door as Gerard appeared from the direction of the stables.
“Please come in,” Gerard said when a servant opened the door. “Not so grand as it was, but I trust you’ll find it comfortable.”
The family entered a wide, stone-flagged hall. They were ushered into a drawing room, which although a trifle shabby, Harriet found charming.
“This sofa is most comfortable,” Leonora said, dimpling up at Gerard. She drew off her bonnet and shook out her blonde curls. “If it was my decision to make, I would choose to recover the damask rather than purchase new furniture.”
He gazed down at her with a smile. “Do you think so?”
Harriett’s pleasure evaporated. Another male to add to Leonora’s list. Foolish to hope that somehow Gerard would be the one man in England immune to her charms.
“Sally will take you to your rooms to freshen up before dinner,” Gerard said. “I must discuss the menu with Cook.”
“For an earl, his life seems very simple here,” Leonora said to Harriett as they followed the maid upstairs.
“I think he prefers it that way,” Harriett said.
As Sally waited, Leonora paused on the landing. She ran her hand along the banister and studied her gloved fingers. “He might be persuaded otherwise, if he were to come into money.”
Harriett pinched her lips together. She searched her sister’s face. “You sound like mistress of the house already.”
Leonora gazed unseeingly at a tapestry on the wall. “Surely the Earl of Foxworth has a London house?”
“In Portman Square. We went there once when his father was alive, you were too small to remember. Gerard may have sold it.”
“I prefer to live in Mayfair.” Leonora frowned. “I shall have to find out.” Sally opened the door of her allocated bedchamber. “I must bathe, ugh, I even have dust in my hair.” She turned to the maid. “Will you see to it? Have a fire lit. I can’t bathe without one, even on a warm night. Have the sheets been aired? A person can grow ill from damp sheets. What about my trunk? Has it been brought up?”
Sally bobbed. “Yes, milady, the master has requested fresh linen, and a fire lit. Joseph is bringing up your trunk.”
“I do hope so. When it arrives, please shake out my dinner gown. The lilac muslin. See you at dinner, Harriett.”
Harriett followed Sally along the passage. It would be nice to be Leonora and have the confidence to believe whatever you desired might be yours for the taking.
Dinner was served in a cozy dining room with a low beamed ceiling. Through the latticed windows, the branches of a leafy horse chestnut swayed in the breeze. Cauliflower soup and braised trout caught in the river that morning were followed by roasted goose served with a dish of vegetables. Dessert was a delicious pie of damsons and cream.
“I apologize for the simple fare,” Gerard said.
“Your cook is as capable as any in London,” Mama said with an approving smile. “The goose was superb.”
“Very tasty,” her father agreed, leaning back with a pat to his stomach.
Gerard had changed into a bottle-green coat, fawn waistcoat and buckskin breeches. He’d made a credible attempt at his cravat, although Harriet doubted he had a manservant to attend him. He didn’t need one, she decided, he was quite perfect the way he was. Why, the Bond Street Beaus would spend hours perfecting such casually disordered curls.
They settled in the parlor to drink coffee. “How about some music,” Father said, holding his snifter of brandy. “Harriett? Leonora?”
Leonora jumped up and went to the pianoforte. In her lilac spotted muslin, she looked extremely pretty, framed by the embroidered hangings drawn against the cool evening. She began to play and sing The Meeting of the Waters, while Gerard stood at her side, turning the pages. Harriett had to admit that her sister did sing sweetly.
When it came to Harriett’s turn, she arrang
ed her Devonshire brown muslin skirts around her. She found a piece of music which was a favorite of hers, the first movement of Bach’s cantata, Sheep May Safely Graze, and did her best, aware that although her voice was passable the pianoforte was not one of her talents. She’d never had the patience to perfect it. Gerard obliged again turning the pages. Her gaze drifted up to him. Was his dark hair soft, or springy like her fathers? She struck a wrong key.
Her father coughed.
“Sorry.” She rose from the piano seat. “I fare better at chess.”
“Chess it is then.” Gerard moved over to the chess table and set up a game. Perhaps he was relieved that she’d stopped ruining a piece he obviously liked. Annoyed, she decided to beat him at something she did well.
She trounced him. Chess was a game she greatly enjoyed. She wasn’t entirely sure she beat him fairly, for Leonora perched at his side to watch, and played with the lilac ribbon entwined in her fair curls.
“You have improved since we last played,” he said.
Harried raised her eyebrows. “And so I should, seeing as I was only fifteen at the time.”
“And now you are grown,” Gerard said with a smile. He reset the board. “I demand a rematch.”
“Not this evening.” Mama rose. “Come, girls, we shall retire and leave the gentlemen to their brandy.”
Upstairs, after the maid undid her gown and stays, Harriett dismissed her. She felt sure she wouldn’t sleep tonight. Somehow, this trip had changed her life in some way, but the manner of which, she was yet to discover. Perhaps only to give her a glimpse of the sort of life she wished for herself.
Sometime around midnight, she gave up trying to sleep, slipped out of bed and lit the candle. Opening the curtains, she perched on the window seat. She blew out the candle and sat in the dark at the open casement window, resting her chin in her hand while breathing in the country odors, both sweet and earthy. Only the chirp of crickets and the rustle of some small animal in the shrubbery disturbed the still night air. She was about to return to bed, but paused at the sound of a horse’s hooves on the cobbles. A man led a horse from the stables. As they passed beneath her window, she saw it was Gerard. She thought to call to him, and then decided against it, realizing it would wake the household. From the obscurity of her darkened room, she watched him until he reached the trees, then he mounted and rode away into the shadows.
An Improper Earl Page 2