Hareton Hall: Richard and Rose, Book 6

by Lynne Connolly

  The contrast of the two dances had its usual effect. Richard had contrived not to find a partner for this dance, and he watched us with a smile. He was finding the effect amusing.

  After this minuet, Gervase took me straight to Richard. He lifted a finger and a waiter appeared with a tray filled with glasses of chilled wine. We took one each. Richard hadn’t looked when he’d signalled the man, but he knew he was there and that he watched for his signal. The whole effect was of arrogant assumption, one that some regular patrons of the Assembly Rooms would resent. Richard hardly noticed, but sipped his wine appreciatively. “I’d thought that the refreshment offered here would be acceptable but unremarkable, but this is exceptionally fine.”

  “Perhaps they knew you were coming,” I said.

  A gleam of amusement lit his eyes. “You never know. Perhaps they did.”

  Freddy joined us. “You’ve done what you came here for. They’re all talking.”

  “Good,” Richard said. His smile had a malicious edge. I looked at him in surprise. “I don’t forget slights. Either to me or to those I care for. I haven’t finished yet, but I promise I’ll be good.”

  “You won’t try to seduce Eustacia again?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “No, merely make myself useful. Besides, she did all the pursuing. Isn’t it time she announced her betrothal?”

  Freddy glanced to where Miss Terry stood, chatting animatedly to a friend. “Very pretty girl.”

  “Very persistent girl,” Richard said. “Would you excuse me? I’d like to talk to the Hoartys.”

  He threaded his way through the crowd, ignoring most people in favour of Mr. Hoarty and his wife. They stood at the back of the crowd, and although not short of company, the cream of Devonshire society chose to take little notice of them. They were trade.

  The gentry of Devonshire watched Richard’s progress with disbelief. Unthinkable that he should ignore their prior claims on his time for a lawyer and his unremarkable wife. The disbelief increased to incredulity when he led Mrs. Hoarty on the dance floor. Mr. Hoarty’s chin went up, and he watched the ensuing dance with pride.

  Mrs. Hoarty acquitted herself well, and Richard took care with her. “That is typical of him,” Freddy commented sotto voce.

  “Completely,” Gervase agreed. “To do as he wants to do, to defy convention, and to please himself at the same time—who is the lady?”

  “The daughter-in-law of a dear friend of mine,” I told him. “We were at their house the other day when we saw the fracas in the street. She showed great courage and common sense.”

  Gervase nodded. Richard took Mrs. Hoarty back to her husband and remained chatting with them for a few moments before he left to seek out Lizzie. I gave my hand to Freddy for the next dance. As we passed Richard and Lizzie, he winked at me. He could do that without anyone else seeing, and the first time he’d done it, I’d almost dropped my fan in shock, but I was used to it now and I smiled peacefully at him in response.

  Freddy was close enough for Richard to allow him to see it, and he smiled back too. The warmth of his smile at me could have fooled me into thinking he regarded me as more than a friend if I didn’t know him better. Freddy was an incorrigible philanderer. Richard had confessed to me that he’d tired of bed-hopping, but Freddy still preferred it to settling down with one principal partner. Somehow I couldn’t imagine Freddy giving himself wholly to one woman, and I said so as he led me off the floor at the end of the dance.

  “People said that about Richard, but he was totally smitten in the end. He’s never looked elsewhere since he married you.”

  “So do you think you might go the same way?”

  “I don’t know.” He regarded me seriously, but the cast of his features were such that even his gravity had a twist of amusement. “I know you won’t take it amiss, but the first time I saw him with you, when you were still in mourning for your cousins, I thought you a passing fancy.”

  “I worried about that, but I’ve never told him.”

  “No,” he agreed. “I can see why you wouldn’t.”

  We smiled at each other in perfect understanding. It was my problem, not my husband’s, and something I must cope with on my own. Besides, he didn’t need telling. He made sure he knew me, always made time for my concerns and problems, as I did for his. I’d met Freddy for the first time on a brief introductory visit to Eyton, a way of announcing our betrothal to the world. I’d come as quite a surprise to a number of people.

  “I’m glad I was proved wrong,” Freddy said. “He seems so different now. He still has a temper, infuriating arrogance, a supreme sense of fashion, but he’s letting something else show.”

  “He says he’s growing up.”

  “We’re all doing that…” Freddy grimaced, “…whether we like it or not, but some of us are still fighting the good fight.”

  Several of the young ladies present watched Freddy speculatively. Eustacia must have told them who he was, and that he was single. “Then you’d better get on with it, Freddy. Go and enjoy yourself. I’ll talk to James, he seems lost without Martha.”

  Freddy kissed my fingertips and strolled unhurriedly across to the group of young women who were trying not to show their interest and failing. As he approached, Miss Terry extended her hand for him to kiss. Freddy bowed over it, but didn’t kiss the hand. He was good.

  After I’d danced with James, Sir John Kneller surprised me by a request to dance. I’d thought him absorbed in Ruth’s company.

  He proved a graceful exponent of the country dance and afterwards we stood by the chairs which held the variously weighted versions of the matrons. We had relative privacy since they sat and we stood.

  Close up, he appeared younger than the four and twenty years he laid claim to. Perhaps he’d undergone a sheltered upbringing. Alone amongst the men here tonight, he wore his dark hair unpowdered. It gleamed black among a drift of white, a raven in a snowdrift. His clothes were fashionably cut and well made, and he had a rakish air that was very attractive. He might do for Ruth, if she wanted him, but I waited to read the reports from London before I made up my mind.

  I took a glass from a passing waiter and took a sip. “The wine is excellent. No doubt fresh from France.”

  He gazed at his glass speculatively, swirling the red liquid around the bowl. “Brought in at midnight, in little rowing boats from the ship moored out at sea.” He reminded me of the one time I’d seen this, and I shuddered. His expression turned to concern. “Are you cold, my lady, or can it be you disapprove of the free traders?”

  “Of course I disapprove.”

  “But you’ll drink the provender.”

  “I have little choice,” I told him. “Most of the wine and tea in the country comes across illegally.”

  “What is the solution, I wonder?” He bestowed a charming smile on me.

  Richard strolled in our direction, Ruth leaning on his arm. He heard the last remark and we saw the timorous smile my sister cast up at her suitor. Sir John smiled at her, warmth in his gaze.

  “If the government insists on putting such high taxes on the goods,” said Richard in response to Sir John’s last statement, “there will always be great profits in smuggling. The answer lies with Parliament, not with the Customs men.”

  Sir John tore his gaze away from Ruth. “You have a point, my lord, but won’t that reduce the national income considerably?”

  “Not if most of the goods come in the legal way, instead of as they do now. My brother, Gervase, has expressed an interest in the matter, now he is a Member of Parliament.”

  “So you don’t approve of free-trading either?” Sir John asked.

  “How could I?” Richard said. “But there’s little I can do about it.” He meant on his own, but Sir John didn’t know what we’d done already, in our own small way.

  Sir John half closed his eyes, appearing disapproving, contemptuous even. “If I were in your position, my lord, I’d do much more, if I felt strongly enough about it.”
/>
  Richard didn’t appear perturbed by the criticism. “Would you really? It seems to me you have some influence yourself, particularly in the north.” He glanced at the dance floor. “There are far more engaging things in life than fighting a cause. My efforts tend more to the practical. It’s probably why I have never been interested in pursuing a political career. One achieves so little, and it’s all so much of a struggle.” His voice took on the fashionable drawl he sometimes affected. He remained guarded, deliberately hiding his true feelings in front of this man. Sir John’s response was to regard him even more contemptuously.

  “I wonder what time they serve supper,” said Richard absently.

  Sir John took out his watch and consulted it. “In about half an hour, I think.”

  My gaze was riveted to the watch. I made an effort and looked up at him to meet his intent stare. “A pretty watch,” I managed. “Almost a lady’s watch, one might say.”

  I took a deep breath. Ruth gave me a curious glance, but I tried to betray nothing, and I deliberately avoided looking at my husband. He’d seen what I’d seen.

  “It belonged to my mother,” Sir John said.

  It was not his mother’s. It was the watch Gervase had given to me in Venice.

  Chapter Thirteen

  That watch was unique, its lid enamelled with a miniature French landscape. I recognised it instantly. I kept my gaze fixed on the watch until I regained control of myself, and then I looked up. Sir John watched me speculatively and his eyes narrowed. “Yes?”

  I felt the gentle, warning pressure of Richard’s hand on my elbow. “Very pretty. I had one like it once.”

  “I thought only one of these existed in the world,” said Sir John. “But perhaps two exist, after all. Do you dance, dear Miss Ruth?”

  Ruth had missed the exchange, so important to me. She smiled and placed her hand on his arm. “Yes, please.” He led her away.

  “Richard, the watch—”

  He cut off what I was about to say. “Not now. We’ll speak of it later. Look at your sister and what he’s doing there.”

  I murmured, “He’s showing his partiality for her in public, dancing with her more than once.”

  “And can you put the matter of the watch aside for now and continue to enjoy yourself?”

  I smiled up at him. “I think so. I’ll have another glass of wine.”

  Richard went and found us another glass each, and I used the respite to take a few deep breaths before I turned to face the room. He handed me my glass and I accepted it with a smile. “To your beautiful brown eyes,” he said to me. “May I drown in them forever.” I appreciated it, and my smile grew less forced.

  “I’m enjoying myself more now than I did when I came here before.”

  “You wore the diamonds,” he recalled.

  “You gave them to me that night. What a fright I must have looked, in my Exeter gown and those magnificent jewels.”

  “Fright wasn’t a term that came to my mind, nor to anyone else who saw you that night. But tonight you look like the woman I always knew you could be.”

  “Richard, is that an ‘I told you so’?” Despite my teasing comment, he’d pleased me. I’d set out to be worthy of him, the least I could do after he’d reposed such trust in me.

  “You’re wearing a well-fitted, flattering gown in a colour that becomes you, your jewels are the kind you should wear and they complement you. You carry yourself with style and grace. I always knew you could, and you have never, never let me down. Not that I married you for that reason,” he added reflectively, and made me smile again. “It occurs to me that I’ve only danced once with my wife the whole evening. Should you care to accompany me?” He turned to me with his most charming smile.

  I accepted, and I watched as the eagle eyes of the matrons fixed themselves on us when he led me on to the floor.

  The orchestra struck up for a country dance, one I knew well, so I didn’t have to concentrate quite so fiercely, but I hoped I did Richard justice. I could observe, as well as dance.

  We took Freddy up in our carriage on the way home, and James and Ruth took the Hareton vehicle. By mutual consent we arranged matters so that Lizzie and her Marquês had a carriage to themselves. I remembered how desperately Richard and I searched for private places during our courtship. I smiled at the remembrance and the comforting thought that now I could be private with him whenever I chose.

  “I haven’t enjoyed myself so much for years,” Freddy confessed.

  Richard slipped an arm about my shoulders and I sank against him gratefully. “I’ve never danced so much before. I was enceinte for much of my London season, but I don’t have that excuse now.”

  “You were Lady Strang tonight,” Richard said.

  “Every delectable inch,” Freddy agreed. I’d have reprimanded him for his comment, but I was too tired, and he didn’t mean it so I smiled instead.

  “The last time you were Miss Golightly,” Richard murmured. “You have the town polish I always knew you’d gain, my sweet, and it showed.”

  “Was I too superior?” I asked anxiously. I’d seen that, and didn’t intend to emulate that kind of behaviour.

  “No,” said Freddy. “But you put a distance between you and the local women. Some of them asked you some extremely impertinent questions.”

  “They knew me before, so they think it gives them some kind of right.”

  “Well it doesn’t,” Freddy said mulishly.

  I laughed at him. “Why, Freddy, upholding my honour?”

  “Why not?” he countered. “We are relatives, after all.”

  I laughed again. “By marriage and distantly. What exactly is your relationship?”

  Richard yawned. “Our fathers are cousins. That makes us cousins of a sort. Second—or once removed—or something like that.”

  “So I could poison you and marry Freddy?”

  “If it amuses you.”

  “It wouldn’t amuse me at all.” I took his hand and snuggled in a little closer.

  “It would amuse me,” Freddy said, but I heard his voice dimly as I felt myself slide into sleep.

  When we got back home, I managed to stay awake just long enough for Nichols to wash the powder out of my hair and undress me. I went through to the bedroom where Richard waited for me and heard his soft, low voice as I slipped into his arms. “So tired. Sleep, my love. I’ll be here.”

  I never tired of waking up to see his head on the pillow next to mine. This morning he’d woken before me and gathered me close as I awoke. I spread my hand against his chest as he kissed me good morning. “You must have danced yourself into exhaustion last night.”

  “That must have been it. I was so tired when we got back—I can’t remember going to sleep.”

  “You were virtually asleep when you came to bed.” He kissed the top of my head. “How do you feel this morning?”

  “Smug,” I admitted, and heard his low laugh. “I showed them what you’ve made of me last night. I made them see. Is that childish?”

  “First—you always had this within you. You just needed someone else to know it and believe in you. Second, yes, it’s wonderfully childish. I felt like that when you became pregnant. ‘Look what we did’, you remember?”

  It was my turn to chuckle. His pride had been surprising and delightful. “I remember. I want to do that again for you someday.”

  “I know. I’m sure you will. Once or twice more.” He paused and chuckled again. I loved that throaty, sensuous sound. “But it was sweet to see their faces last night. I had every intention of creating mischief, but I gave up the idea. I was determined after so many years of ignoring you, they would talk about you today. You did it all on your own, my love, just being your own sweet self.”

  “What did I do?”

  “You showed them what you could be, what they could have had. How many young men asked you to dance with them last night?”

  “I don’t know. More than ever asked me when I lived at the manor, that’
s for sure.”

  His hand moved up my back. “They could have danced with you for years, but they were too blind to see the treasure they had.”

  I knew there was more to it than that. “Richard, it’s you. They see the way you behave to me and they think—if he wants her, then I should too. They looked at you, not at me.”

  “No, I’m a stranger to them. They might copy my clothes, ape my manners, but last night they wanted my wife.”

  I laughed a little and looked up at him. He was smiling at me. “My wife,” he repeated, and he kissed me, long and slow. “And here you are.” He pushed a curl back from my face. “In my bed.”

  “Yes, here I am. I can’t think of anywhere else I want to be.” I moved my hand farther down the bed, caressed him as I went and saw him close his eyes and sigh in contentment as I reached the most intimate part of him, hard and ready for me.

  “And Freddy says you’ve never strayed—why not?” I knew. I just wanted to hear it.

  I raised myself on top of him, sat up and enjoyed his pleasure in my body before I lifted slightly to guide him in. I guided his shaft to its home, let it linger over the moist centre of my body, teasing myself and him.

  He opened his eyes and looked at me, his gaze travelling down my body and back to my face again.

  “And lose all this?” He began to move slowly, carefully, making me sigh in pleasure, and he nudged that spot inside me that brought me delight. “The one woman in the world I find constantly exciting? Lose your trust, your love? You must be mad, my sweet, sweet love—oh, yes!” This last as I began to move with his rhythm, becoming a part of the act of love. He reached one hand up to hold my hip and the other down to my crease, where he used his thumb to caress the bundle of nerves that could send me into oblivion.

  He opened his eyes and watched while I reached my arms behind me to hold on to his legs. We moved as one being, towards the same end, to give each other pleasure and in so doing, to bring the greatest pleasure to ourselves.

  Sometimes, when I met his gaze in a London salon or a fashionable, crowded ballroom, I’d think of him in these moments, and I knew he thought of it too. We exchanged such reminders in public. Sometimes, if he was close enough, he would whisper something private. All these things brought a thrill of excitement to me because they were promises to be fulfilled later.