by Mary Brendan
‘I’d sooner reach London safely. I know how treacherous icy roads can be.’
A frown and a gesture were Jack’s way of apologising for prompting her to think of her husband’s coaching accident. ‘I can only marvel at how you have coped with everything that has happened to you.’ His eyes gleamed with warmth before he straightened up and sat back against the squabs, his expression again concealed by shadows.
‘Thank you,’ Dawn murmured. ‘But all families endure tragedies and I mustn’t think fate has been particularly unkind to me or I will feel depressed.’
‘I don’t want that. I want life to improve for you. And it can. Shall we put up at the inn and see what tomorrow brings? At sunrise there might be little more than March frost in the air.’ Jack hadn’t been prompted by lust to suggest they overnight together. His honest intention was that they all arrive safely in London. And once there... What then? He’d gone away years ago wanting to marry her, but what could he now offer to the woman he’d once hoped to be his wife other than an informal arrangement? They were both older, wiser, battered by life. Why would she object to having everything he could bestow but his name? Doing without her in his life would be impossible. The years apart hadn’t cooled his feelings for her as he’d hoped they might for life to be uncomplicated. Being close to her didn’t simply elicit a residue of longing that left him nostalgic for youthful days. He wanted to kiss her...finish what he’d started back then when more innocent and less knowing of life’s cruelties.
She’d wanted him, too, years ago and just the memory of her ardent response to his kisses and caresses had the power to stir his loins. But she was parrying his attempts to flirt...guarding herself from him. She might have poured out her heart and confided her worries about her grandchild’s future, but she’d not let him know her personal emotions, especially towards him.
‘If we are slowed down to a snail’s pace by blocked roads, Lily will get hungry and mischievous.’ Dawn was aware he’d been brooding on something. Believing he might be waiting for her to properly confirm she had no objection to putting up at a tavern, she said lightly, ‘We should stop for the night. I’m afraid my nerves certainly can’t stand another tantrum.’
Jack gave a wry smile. ‘Nor mine...’ He rapped on the roof for the driver to pull up.
The vehicle slowly skidded to a halt on the ice and Dawn realised that the sooner they were safely in the warm and dry the better she’d like it.
A gust of cold air blew in as Jack got out to speak to the driver, making Lily stir. Dawn tucked the blanket more closely around her granddaughter and continued to lull the child. Her free hand twitched the blind aside so she could see where they were, but thick white flakes were obscuring her vision.
After a few minutes Jack climbed in, bringing a frosty scent with him. He reseated himself, idly brushing ice crystals from his glistening hair. ‘The Bell Inn is about a mile up ahead; we can pull in there.’
* * *
‘Would your husband also like a cup of hot chocolate brought up to your room, my lady?’
‘My husband? Oh, no... You misunderstand... Lord Sterling is my travelling companion and will require a separate room. I’m sure he would like a hot drink, though. And some warm milk for the child, please.’ Dawn’s colour had risen, but she realised it was as much her fault that a misconception had occurred.
The proprietor of the Bell public house had been rushing to marshal incoming vehicles when they had turned in on to his slush-covered courtyard. Having noticed a crest adorning the coachwork, the fellow had tramped over, demanding the driver give the identity of his aristocratic passenger. Jack had sprung down and introduced himself, then set about arranging for the stabling of his horses. The solicitous landlord had helped Dawn and Lily alight, quickly ushering them towards the tavern to shelter from the quietly falling snow. He had summoned a serving maid to attend to them before disappearing to see to others abandoning their journeys.
Dawn had been concentrating on keeping Lily protected from the crush of travellers and had not thought much about it when the landlord addressed her as ‘m’lady’. Quite naturally the fellow had assumed Lord Sterling was with his wife.
‘I wasn’t told you needed two rooms, m’m.’ The serving girl looked flustered. ‘I’ve just let the farmer and his family have the only other one. We’re bursting at the seams now the weather’s brought folk to a halt. Strangers are topping and tailing in what beds we’ve got.’
‘Is everything to your satisfaction, m’lady?’ The landlord had hurried back inside, knocking snow from his shoulders. ‘Never fear, His Lordship is on his way now he’s attended to his fine team of horses. My daughter will fetch you a hot toddy while you wait for your husband in the back parlour.’ He jerked his balding pate at his daughter to get her to quickly fetch it.
‘She’s not his wife.’ The girl looked as though she might wink at her father.
He gawped, then quickly subdued his surprise beneath a bland expression. Quality conducting a discreet tryst in his country tavern was a common enough occurrence. A couple turning up with a bastard in tow was more unusual, though, and he wished they’d picked a better time for it. He had a multitude of cold, hungry folk cramming every nook and cranny. ‘A nice hot drink to warm you up, m’m?’ he repeated his suggestion, then nodded at Lily, sucking her thumb. ‘The child might like some cake or crumpets and a milky drink. My girl will fetch it all for you if you’d like to sit down in there.’ He gestured to a door further along the hallway.
Lily had understood something nice was on offer. She tugged on her grandma’s skirts, nodding her small head, then held out her hands to be picked up.
‘Is there a problem?’ Jack had picked a path through the throng in the shadowy corridor, lit by guttering candle flame. ‘Here, let me hold her.’ He courteously took Lily as Dawn shifted the toddler in her weary arms.
‘All is being attended to, my lord.’ The landlord bowed. ‘I’m just about to take your companion’s order. We have beef roasting in the oven if you’ve an appetite for a hearty dinner.’
‘The lady wants a separate room,’ his daughter chirped up. ‘But the farmer took the last one for his family.’ She jerked her chin at a couple huddled together in a recess. Between them stood two young children hiding from people barging to and fro.
‘Well...yon farmer must try an inn further along.’ Her father hissed from the corner of his mouth, then turned a smile on his eminent guest. ‘Do sit in the back parlour, my lord. There is a good fire and comfy chairs. You will have it to yourself till midnight if you wish. Thereafter a party of tinkers is bedding down in there. It’s the only space left.’ He attempted to guide Dawn towards the room, but she hung back.
‘Please don’t make that family travel on in this weather. We will manage with what we have.’ Dawn sent Jack a bashfully enquiring glance, hoping he wouldn’t be embarrassed into agreeing if he didn’t want to. But she couldn’t in all conscience send people back on the road again on such a night simply to preserve her modesty. Jack was a thorough gentleman, she was sure, and she was a widow, not a swooning maid, unused to the sight of a man without his shirt on. They would manage somehow.
‘Of course, we will manage very well,’ Jack endorsed with a subtle smile. ‘Would you like a dinner?’ he asked Dawn. ‘I think I could do justice to a plate of roast beef.’
‘Thank you...yes...’ Dawn had noticed a wonderful savoury aroma wafting in the atmosphere and it had made her stomach grumble.
The landlord snapped his fingers at his daughter to make her hurry to fetch the meals. Before she headed off the girl slid Jack a lascivious look from under her lashes. In Dawn’s opinion any woman would be mad not to jump at a chance to share the bed of a tall blond gentlemen as handsome as Jack.
Chapter Seven
Once the steaming plates of roast beef and vegetables had arrived Lily had set her sights on that rather than her butt
ered crumpets. She had abandoned her low stool, situated a cosy distance from the fire, and attempted to climb on to her grandma’s chair at the dining table.
Dawn had settled the child on her lap, feeding her a small helping in between taking her own mouthfuls of succulent roast meat. Jack had devoured his meal with the speed that only men seemed able to achieve, then had lifted Lily away from the table, allowing Dawn to finish her dinner in peace. He had taken the child to sit by the fire with him and had played spin the coin to keep her amused.
Having eaten her fill, Dawn placed down her cutlery and dabbed her lips with a napkin, feeling more relaxed than she had in many days.
Now that Lily had turned her attention to her doll, Jack was lounging back in his wingchair, one hand draped over the arm with a tumbler of cognac oscillating between thumb and forefinger. Dawn watched him with a wry smile as he patiently returned to Lily the doll she lobbed on to his lap. The toy was immediately plonked back on his knee and this time he allowed it to stay there until the toddler held out her hands for it.
He had been a boon from the moment they had met at Wivenhoe church, and he had volunteered to fetch the doctor. But Dawn knew she mustn’t think of Eleanor now or tears would flow. Once back in her own home in London there would be time enough to grieve for her stepdaughter. She transferred her gaze to Lily; the child had settled down quietly between Jack’s spaced feet. She seemed perfectly at ease with him despite having known him such a short while. He would make a good father...a good husband, too, Dawn realised. He was tolerant and kind with children and not too lofty to lend a hand and give his wife a rest... She pulled herself up short. She’d painted a picture in her mind of them as a family and they were far from that. Once back in town they had separate homes and lives to go to. At present all was quiet and harmonious for her, but the reality might be very different in a month’s time. Would Peter Mansfield allow her to keep custody of the daughter he seemed to view as a nuisance? He could come and take Lily away, as was his right, and Dawn feared that if that day arrived, her heart might break. She blocked the bad thoughts; concentrating on the here and now was what she must do or she would drive herself mad with worry.
Her eyes returned to Jack’s fire-daubed profile as he gazed into the leaping flames in the grate. He was brooding on something and Dawn suspected she knew what it might be. They hadn’t spoken again of their sleeping arrangements, but neither of them had forgotten that shortly they would go upstairs together. A moment later she was proved right in believing he had bedtime on his mind.
‘I’ll overnight in the stables...’
‘What?’ Dawn was aghast at the idea of him attempting to rest in such a draughty, freezing cold place.
He turned his head her way to smile and said, ‘Believe me, I’ve slept in far worse places. It isn’t a problem for me, honestly.’
‘You will not sleep outside!’ Dawn spluttered. ‘There’s no need. The landlord’s daughter told me all manner of strangers are sharing bedrooms and I’m not too precious to do the same when needs must.’
‘Are we strangers, Dawn?’
‘Perhaps not,’ she said. ‘Which makes the idea of you suffering frostbite on my account even more ridiculous.’
A thought occurred to her. She had forgotten about Miss Sarah Snow rather too quickly. Putting up at a hostelry with a woman might be something he would sooner avoid having to explain to his intended. Perhaps he wasn’t being gallant but pragmatic when offering to allow her the room to herself. Awkward though it was to refer to gossip about his betrothal, Dawn realised she had a valid reason to do so. She got up from the dining table and settled in the other fireside chair so they sat face to face.
‘I completely understand that you might wish to keep it quiet that you shared a tavern chamber with me,’ she said carefully. ‘When we get to London I promise not to mention a word of this episode to anybody. Even Emma will never know of it.’
He placed down on the hearth the glass of cognac that had moments ago hovered at his mouth. ‘You’ve heard rumours about a betrothal?’
‘Yes, I have... Are they true?’ she blurted. Why deny it? she thought. Better to cut to the chase than coyly probe for information as though jealous. Even though she feared she might be.
‘What have you heard?’ Jack picked up the cognac and shot it back in one swallow.
‘Miss Snow is a pretty redhead and Jack Valance has fallen in love and returned from overseas to announce their engagement.’ She watched for his reaction to that concise statement, but could discern no emotion in his hard profile. ‘That is more or less the gist of what I overheard while I was choosing a book at the circulating library,’ she prompted him for a reply.
‘I hope you came away from the place with a better fiction than that,’ he muttered drily and refilled his glass to the top with cognac.
‘It’s not true?’ Her heart had quickened in the hope of hearing him confirm the gossips had overstepped the mark. ‘I’m not prying... Well, maybe a little,’ she added when he seemed reluctant to answer. ‘I suppose I’m no different to most ladies in having a rather vulgar interest in knowing which eligible bachelor has got caught and by whom.’ She managed a rueful smile, though wasn’t nearly as insouciant as she made out. Her heart was drumming as she waited for his reply.
No answer other than a sarcastic noise escaped his throat and it flustered her. Did he think she was being vulgarly inquisitive? ‘You don’t need to tell me, of course,’ she said quickly. ‘Your business is your own affair and I’m sorry I brought it up. I just wanted you to know that I understand our enforced stop here could be embarrassing for you. I’ll keep it all a secret, if you wish. It’s the least I can do after all you have done for me.’
‘I don’t care who knows about it. Do you know what I do wish?’ He took another hefty swig of cognac.
‘No...’ Dawn said rather hesitantly.
‘I wish I’d been an eligible bachelor about six years ago.’
Her gratitude to him was clear in her limpid green gaze, as was her bewilderment as to why his mood had changed when all she’d done was sweetly offer a solution to a possible problem. He hung his head, watching his fingers rock the empty glass to and fro. He was disgusted with himself. Inwardly he’d vowed to keep things casual between them until she was settled back in her own home and had had time to mourn her stepdaughter. What did he think he was doing, acting like a sulky youth after what she’d recently been through? But he knew why he was frustrated: wanting her was six years old and being this close to her now was tormenting the life out of him. They should have kept on the road... The ice would’ve cooled him down, he mockingly told himself. But he knew he’d never have journeyed on, risking those roads just in case he couldn’t control himself. He glanced at Dawn, frowning into firelight. The tenderness tightening his chest was still there, but overlaid with something earthier...darker. If she’d just waited another six months before marrying it wouldn’t have come to this. Perhaps she hadn’t loved him as much as she’d said. Perhaps he’d been a fool to have risked everything, including his life and sanity, to have her.
Abruptly he stood up and went to the window, gazing out into the dark night. ‘It’s stopped snowing. The sky is quite clear,’ he informed, regarding the vast starry heavens. ‘We should be able to set off early in the morning.’
‘I hope you’re right. It will be good to be home.’
‘I’ll sleep here in the parlour...the chair’s comfortable enough.’
‘As you wish,’ she said stiffly. ‘Wherever you sleep you can trust me to say nothing about this. Not that there is anything to hide; the whole thing is quite innocent.’
Jack smiled sardonically at the large, milky moon. ‘Is it?’ he muttered.
‘Why do you say it like that?’ Dawn took the plunge and started a conversation she knew might lead to sparks flying. ‘I’m a widow, not a debutante. I don’t care what peopl
e might try to make of it. I will ignore propriety when I want to and if I believe the situation merits it. Not that I think a mention of this will ever leak out. Besides, only the Houndsmeres ever knew that once upon a time we spoke of being more than friends. And now it is in the past. Things turned out differently for both of us.’
‘You make that time we spent together sound like a fairy tale.’
‘I suppose it was. A girlish fantasy. When young one is allowed to dream.’
‘You weren’t a girl, you were twenty-three,’ he said, turning from the window to look at her.
‘Thank you for reminding me,’ she returned tartly.
His slate-grey eyes roved her beautifully indignant features as he slowly approached. ‘Apart from recalling your age, I seem to remember you saying you wanted to marry me.’
‘Only after you delivered half a proposal and said you wanted to marry me when in a position to do so,’ Dawn protested, though her cheeks had turned rosy. Indeed, she had made it clear she wanted him, clinging to him and kissing him as though he was everything to her on that long-ago day in Hyde Park. ‘Are you hinting that you believe I should have waited...pining for you...for years in the hope that you might come back and propose properly?’ She sounded disbelieving...almost angry.
‘No...’
‘Not a word...not a single line written in a letter of where you were or what you were doing,’ she breathed. ‘I didn’t marry until long afterwards.’
‘I know...’ he said hoarsely and thrust his fists into his pockets. ‘At first I wasn’t in a position to be able to write to you.’
‘An inability to do things seems to have dogged you,’ she said waspishly.
‘Indeed, it has...and still it seems to,’ he returned. ‘So I take it you’re not bothered by the idea of me being somebody else’s husband?’
‘No more than I imagine you are to know I was somebody else’s wife.’ She’d answered brusquely and could sense the tension between them building higher, starting to crackle as intensely as the burning logs.