Humming quietly, Frances took up her pen and made several notes on the margins of the drawing. She was studying the layout of a row of bedrooms when Benson stepped in to announce visitors. Startled, she looked at the tall-case clock and frowned. More time had passed than she had realized. No doubt it was Mr. Jensen and the Coopers, come to explore the library contents yet again, as they had the past two days. Only the knowledge that today was the final day of the Coopers’ stay tempered her annoyance at the interruption. Sighing, she bade the butler to show them in and began rolling up the prints. Grateful that she was not expected to spend the entire time with her guests, Frances stood.
“Lady Halcombe. You are looking very well today.”
Not surprisingly, Paul Jensen was the first to enter. For all his claim that he was no scholar, he seemed the most avid of researchers. Frances had been somewhat disconcerted to learn the man was a native of Brussels. With his interest in rare books, it was entirely possible that this rather self-assured Bruxellese knew of her father, although he had never mentioned it.
“Thank you, Mr. Jensen.” Frances allowed his customary bow over her hand, still somewhat bemused at the affectation, and smiled at his companion. “Mr. Cooper, good day. I see you are alone. Your wife is well, I trust?”
“Caroline was involved in overseeing the packing when we left,” Cooper said, bowing. “She and Lady Merton have planned an excursion to the village and will stop here on their return.”
“Mrs. Cooper wishes to bid you thanks and farewell herself,” Jensen added. “I understand her errands are those most readily accomplished, so we should not need to linger longer than usual.”
Since they usually stayed above two hours, Frances hoped this was indeed the case. Much longer and they would expect a midday meal of some kind. She was not inhospitable, but preferred to have something alone in her parlour, or eat with Richard if he was in-house.
“I look forward to seeing Mrs. Cooper,” Frances said. “If you will excuse me? I assure you that I will return before you leave.” She halted at the door and gestured to the pile of rolled-up drawings. “One of the footmen will remove those and you will be free to use the table for your work. It is the largest and most convenient in the room.”
“They are not in the way at all!” Jensen said swiftly. “I can prop them up on the wall if we need the space.” He smiled, and added, “I don’t want to put your household to any trouble.”
Frances wondered at the insistent note in his voice, but put it down to excessive politeness and shook her head. “It is no bother and I may have need of them in a short time.” She smiled in the general direction of both men and stepped out of the room before either could respond.
“Benson, please have someone collect the house plans on the table and take them to my parlour.” Frances did not expect to need them again this morning as she was going to play with Flora in a few minutes, but it was not necessary to leave them out.
Her husband was already in the nursery, and she paused on the threshold to watch father and daughter line up the Noah’s Ark animals in neat rows on the table. Richard’s love of children was yet another thing she had not been aware of prior to her return. It was possible only his own child elicited the affectionate patience he displayed with her, but she had also seen him take pains in instructing the stable boys and even enter into a game of ball with other youngsters on the estate. No, it appeared Halcombe liked children, a boon to her—and to them—as he would not object to fathering more. And since there was only one way to accomplish that…Frances smiled to herself, thinking of the night to come.
“Say good morning to your Mama, Flora,” Halcombe said.
Flora looked up and giggled, but for once did not jump from her chair and dash to her mother. “Good mornin’, Mama.” She waved the tiger in her hand. “I busy wif Papa.”
“So you are.” Frances walked over and kissed the top of her head. “Are you having fun?”
Flora’s forehead wrinkled and she shook her head. “No fun, Mama. Work!”
Frances swallowed a laugh and rested her hand on Halcombe’s shoulder. “Work, of course,” she agreed, and exchanged an amused look with her husband. “I will not interrupt you. May I sit and watch you work for a little while?”
“Yes!” Flora shouted, bouncing with such enthusiasm she almost tumbled onto the floor.
Halcombe’s hand was around the child’s arm before Frances could react.
“Perhaps I had best sit down before you fall.” She pulled out a chair on the opposite side of the table.
They were much alike, Frances thought, as she watched them play. Brows arched in the same graceful curve, the same determined chin, and of course their eyes. She liked looking at Richard. His mouth was firm and sensual, as she knew well. Thick, dark eyelashes contrasted with his vivid blue eyes, and his well-toned body held a strength not perhaps apparent at first glance, for he was more slender than many men.
He looked over at her, a half-smile playing on his lips, and she flushed at the awareness in his eyes. Blast the man—he knew exactly where her thoughts had wandered. Such rapport, she suddenly realized, was a recent development in their relationship that did not seem to irritate him. It was not something that had happened between them in the early days of their marriage. Frances found this encouraging.
A discreet tap on the door, followed by the appearance of a footman, startled them all. Frances let out a soft puff of annoyance. “I suppose our guests must be leaving, or the remainder of their party has arrived.”
Richard raised his brows in inquiry. “Are you referring to the library contingent?”
Frances nodded and looked at the watch pinned to her gown. “Mr. Cooper and Mr. Jensen have been here for some time. Lady Merton and Mrs. Cooper were expected later.” She widened her eyes and looked guilelessly at him. “As the Coopers are departing tomorrow to return to Oxford, I suppose I must go down. It is the polite thing to do.”
“Ah, then certainly you must go.” Richard grinned at her and she laughed.
“Wretch! You know very well I want you with me.” Frances stood and held out her hand. “Will you come? Please?”
He took her hand and rose. “Since you ask so nicely, how can I refuse?”
Frances looked closely at him. She was almost sure he was teasing. But what if he was not? What If he actually relished the opportunity to see Lady Merton? His smooth expression told her nothing. With a fresh picture of Richard and Lady Merton together in her mind, Frances felt a familiar roil begin in her stomach. Her budding distress, however, was immediately allayed by his next remark.
“Flora, will you come with us and meet some people?” Without waiting for the child’s consent, Richard picked her up.
“Lion come, too?” Flora asked, clutching the small animal in her fingers.
“Lion, too,” he said.
Flora wrapped one arm around Richard’s neck. Once she was settled against his chest, he touched his free hand to Frances’ elbow and led her from the room.
***
Halcombe was more than satisfied that today would see the last of both the Coopers and Jensen. The couple seemed well enough, but the foreigner was far too familiar with Frances. She did not appear to notice, and certainly did not encourage him, but it seemed she was entertained by his attentions. Was she the reason for Jensen’s insinuation into the Manor?
The earl was no philistine. Indeed, he took pleasure in the study of history and languages, but he did not believe his library to be exceptional. Cooper’s interest was understandable. After all, research was his life. Access to even a small collection of unique volumes would enliven such a scholar. Jensen’s motives were more suspect. He was not the type to hang about a library just to keep a casual acquaintance company.
That the activities of her guests had provided Victoria with an excuse to visit the Manor was another irritant. Not that she hesitated to call upon him whenever it suited her. Her latest visit was ostensibly to ask his help with some matter co
ncerning the Merton properties, but since this was usually something her estate manager was capable of resolving, Halcombe knew she had not given up on persuading him into an affair. Why she persisted, when he had made it abundantly clear he was not interested, was beyond him.
Because in some insane effort to avoid hurting her further, you have not been firm enough, Halcombe. Nor did he wish to make an enemy of her. Te earl suspected the viscountess would like nothing better than to create trouble for his wife, and Frances clearly did not care for Lady Merton anyway.
Nor did the lady care for Frances, judging from her quickly veiled look of animosity when she saw his wife at his side as they entered the library. Lady Merton’s welcoming smile was directed solely at him. She glided forward to greet him as if no one else was in the room.
“Richard, how nice to see you. I was hoping to have the chance to thank you again for your assistance yesterday. Those troublesome drains! I could not go on without you to depend upon now that dear George is gone.”
Since ‘dear George’ had been too ill to manage his property for some years before his death, Halcombe viewed Victoria’s spurious attention to estate management skeptically. Nor was she the true owner. Merton’s title and property had passed to a distant cousin, who seemed content to reside in the London house, and allow Lady Merton to live at Merton House. Halcombe couldn’t fault the man. Living with Victoria would be difficult at best.
“Since I did not see you yesterday, Victoria, you must be referring to Monday,” Halcombe said evenly, aware of Frances’ sharp interest.
“Oh, my dreadful memory! Of course, it was several days ago.” Lady Merton laid her hand on Halcombe’s arm. “Do forgive me, and introduce me to your adorable daughter. I have been looking forward to meeting her.” She smiled at Flora, who promptly hid her face against her father’s shoulder.
Halcombe touched Flora’s back lightly. “Flora, this is Lady Merton. She would like to meet you.”
Flora raised her head and peered briefly at Lady Merton. “’lo,” she said, and promptly hid again.
“Such a pretty name. It’s just like a flower.” Lady Merton struggled on in an effort to engage Flora’s attention. “You know what flowers are, don’t you?”
Halcombe heard a muffled cough from Frances and bit back a smile. Flora was not unusually unsociable, but preferred to take her time when meeting someone new.
“She is shy at times,” Halcombe explained. He turned to the Coopers, forestalling any further conversation with the viscountess, who did not appear gratified by Flora’s rebuff. Frances moved aside to greet Jensen, who had immediately come to join her.
Between Halcombe’s concerted effort to overhear their conversation and Flora’s sudden, “Down Papa” the earl returned the Coopers’ greeting with less than his usual sangfroid. He set Flora on her feet, kept a firm grip on her hand and urged her a few steps forward.
“Flora, this is Mrs. Cooper and Mr. Cooper. They have come to visit us.”
Flora looked carefully at them. “P’eased,” she said, and smiled at Mrs. Cooper, whose bonnet had caught her eye. “Hat pretty.”
Caroline Cooper sat down and laid her hat on her knees. “I am pleased to meet you, Lady Flora. The hat is pretty, I agree. Would you like to hold it?”
Flora nodded, her curls bouncing wildly. She tugged at Halcombe’s hand to get free.
“Papa!”
“Gently, child. Mrs. Cooper is our guest.” The earl released his exuberant daughter and smiled.
Caroline patted the seat cushion beside her. “Will you sit here, Lady Flora?”
“Yes. I sit,” Flora said, clambering up with a little assist from her father.
Halcombe was somewhat surprised at Flora’s ready acceptance of a stranger, but supposed the lure of the hat was strong enough to overcome any reserve. Then again, Mrs. Cooper seemed to know that children did not like to have adults looming overhead and talking down to them.
Once satisfied his daughter was happily occupied in touching all the flowers on the hat, Halcombe turned his attention to Cooper, who greeted him with enthusiasm.
“It is very kind of you to open your library to us. I’ve enjoyed it thoroughly, and so has Caroline.” He looked almost slyly at his host. “I am told you are a Cambridge man. Should you happen to visit Oxford, however, I hope that won’t stop you from looking us up.”
Halcombe laughed. “Still the same rivalry, I see.”
“Just so,” Cooper said with a grin. He then launched into an anecdote about some playful prank between the two schools.
The earl listened with half an ear, his eyes straying to Frances and Jensen, who stood close together on one side of the room. Lady Merton had settled into the corner of a settee. Her watchful gaze drifted toward the animated pair then on to Flora and Mrs. Cooper, and finally to him, a disgruntled expression on her perfect face. Halcombe knew all too well that Victoria preferred to be the center of attention.
He waited impatiently for Cooper to finish his story and was just about to interrupt when Frances’ gaze caught his. Never had he seen such a desperate plea for rescue. Feeling ridiculously pleased, Halcombe laughed politely as the tale at last came to an end. He then quietly excused himself and went to deliver her from Jensen.
As soon as he reached her side, Frances moved to tuck her arm around his. “Mr. Jensen has been telling me his father often purchases books for his own personal library and may have obtained some from my father. He asked if I planned to continue the family tradition and indeed, recalled hearing somewhere that I had done so.”
Her eyes held both a warning and worry. Halcombe looked at Jensen with renewed consideration. If Frances was correct, almost no one knew of her involvement with Nesbitt’s book trade. If Jensen did know of it, why wait until now to mention it? Why not when he first expressed interest in perusing the library?
The man’s handsome face was open and friendly, with no sign that his comments had been more than a casual observation, but there was a subtle tension in his pale eyes that put Halcombe on guard.
The earl placed his hand over his wife’s and said smoothly, “Perhaps Mr. Jensen heard you were considering whether to continue in your father’s footsteps.” The smile he gave her was warm and reassuring and he felt her disquiet ease.
“Of course,” she said. “That must be it, seeing that I did make some inquiries, as you suggested.” She laughed and looked archly at Halcombe. “You see? The rare book world abounds with gossip and rumours.”
“Apparently so,” Halcombe said with a laugh. The flash of anger in Jensen’s eyes was gone almost before it registered with the earl. Indeed, the fellow’s expression was so amicable, Halcombe thought his imagination was running wild. He reviewed the short interchange, seeking a reason as to why the man might have undue interest in whether or not Nesbitt’s book trade continued. Either he was missing something or there really was nothing.
“Mama, Papa!” At Flora’s excited cry, they all turned to watch her as she ran toward them with a bright silk flower clutched in her fist. Caroline Cooper followed more sedately behind, a bemused smile on her face. “I have flower,” Flora cried, waving it above her head.
Frances grinned and crouched down to her daughter’s level. “How pretty! Why don’t you show your Papa?” She picked the child up, passed her to Halcombe, and then gave Caroline Cooper an apologetic smile. “I am so sorry! Your poor hat. Our daughter loves flowers, and thinks every blossom she sees belongs to her. We will have her return this one to you.”
“Oh, no, please do not! I can obtain another. Lady Flora and I have wholly enjoyed our little visit,” Mrs. Cooper said with evident good-humour.
Halcombe looked at the child, now half-slumped in his arms. His mouth curved in a rueful smile. While Flora appeared to be on the verge of sleep, he felt sure that she would object to giving up her prize. “Thank you, Mrs. Cooper.”
“Such a kind thing for you to do, Caroline,” Lady Merton said in a sugary-sweet voice as she joi
ned them. “You will be quite the favourite with the child—and I’m sure her parents are most grateful.”
Caroline Cooper’s face coloured at the undercurrent of sarcasm in Lady Merton’s words, and Frances rushed to reassure her.
“We are most appreciative. Flora seldom takes to anyone as quickly as she did you. It is good for her to have new experiences,” she said warmly, smiling at the flustered woman.
Halcombe looked at Lady Merton and raised a brow. It was an unfortunate implication, whether she meant it or not. He felt sure Mrs. Cooper had not thought of earning favour from her hosts.
“I’m afraid Flora’s social graces are fairly limited,” Halcombe said. “Thank you for being so patient with her.”
Mrs. Cooper gave him a grateful look. “It was a pleasure,” she said to Halcombe in a soft voice, an expression of both relief and apprehension on her face.
Victoria was obviously not happy with the turn of events. Halcombe hoped poor Mrs. Cooper did not suffer for her kindness to Flora. But for the time being, at least, Victoria seemed to feel the subject closed.
“We must go. Caroline has much to do in readiness for leaving on the morrow,” she said, gathering up her hat and gloves. She looked coolly at Jensen, who had been standing quietly to one side during the awkward exchange. “Paul?”
“Of course.” Jensen nodded and bowed to his host and hostess. “We have taken too much of your time already. Thank you for your hospitality. I myself will be here for one more day. Perhaps I will see you again.”
Not if I have anything to say about it, Halcombe thought. The man was pleasant enough, but there was something not quite right with the fellow—and it was not simply because he fawned over Frances.
Victoria allowed the others to go ahead, and then moved closer to Halcombe. Flora was now asleep and the viscountess laid her hand on the little girl’s hair. “She is darling, Richard. You must bring her to Merton. I believe there are some kittens in the stable she would enjoy seeing.”
A Love Laid Bare Page 23