“In … in this very house?”
“Yes. I couldn’t rest until I knew what had become of her, so Hawkhurst escorted me to Ireland to try and find Lady Farnwell.”
“And you actually did?” he said in wonder.
“Yes, and even better, we brought her home to England with us. She still loves you, Uncle.”
“Dear God,” he repeated. Shock and amazement shone in his expression. “She is truly alive?”
“Indeed. She is upstairs now, waiting for me to summon her. Would you like me to fetch her now?”
“I will need a moment to absorb …”
“Of course,” Skye said sympathetically. She suspected he had a multitude of questions, but for now accepting the truth was the most important thing. “I will leave you alone for a while.”
When she made to rise, however, Cornelius’s fingers closed around her wrist again. “No, I want to see her. Now, at once.”
“Then I will bring her to you.”
Nodding, he released her arm. As Skye reached the door, she heard him let out a long, shuddering breath, as if still not able to believe that a fantastic, cherished dream was coming true.
When Skye returned with the baroness, she found her uncle standing frozen in the middle of the library, watching the door as if not daring to breathe.
Clutching his box of letters, Rachel stepped over the threshold tentatively and then halted, staring back at Cornelius and drinking him in.
His voice was hoarse when he finally spoke. “I could not believe my ears when Skye told me you had not perished after all.”
“I am so terribly sorry,” she whispered. “Can you ever forgive me?”
“There is nothing to forgive. You acted to save your life. Can you ever forgive me for not knowing that brute was beating you?”
She gave a soft sob and pressed a hand to her mouth.
“Why did you never tell me, Rachel?”
“I did not want to put you in danger.”
“My God, Rachel …” Cornelius’s tone held helplessness and frustration. “You were all alone.…”
From her vantage point just outside the library door, Skye couldn’t see Rachel’s face but knew tears were streaming down her cheeks. “No, I was not alone. I had your memory.”
“My dearest love …” He took a small step toward her, then halted as if not trusting the reception he would receive.
The same questioning caution sounded in Rachel’s tone when she spoke next. “Am I your dearest love, Cornelius?”
“Yes, of course you are.”
She shuddered with relief. “I didn’t dare hope. Even when I learned you kept our rose pressed among my letters.”
“I wanted a remembrance, however painful it might be. I mourned you for a long while, Rachel. In truth, I never recovered.…”
His own voice broke, and he brought a shaking hand to hide his eyes. He was choking on his own tears, Skye realized, her heart going out to him. Only once before had she seen her uncle so emotional, the day the terrible news came about the shipwreck that had killed his closest relatives.
Not wanting to intrude on their tender reunion any longer, Skye backed away and quietly shut the library door, intending to allow them privacy to become re-acquainted.
When she turned, wiping tears from her own eyes, she nearly ran into Hawk, who had been waiting in the corridor.
“Well?” he said, watching her.
“I think it went better than I could have hoped for.” Skye gave him a watery smile. “I have dreamed about this moment since I first learned that his love was still alive.” She sniffed and glanced over her shoulder at the library door, then sought his gaze again. “Thank you, Hawk. This never would have been possible without you.” On impulse, Skye stepped forward and stood on tiptoes to press a kiss to his jaw in gratitude.
The gesture was simple and friendly, but his hands moved to her waist. When she recognized the sudden flash in his eyes as heat, her pulse leapt. He was looking at her as if he wanted her.… For a fleeting moment, she thought he might return a more passionate embrace. But then his expression shuttered, reminding her that he intended to keep their relationship strictly formal from now on.
“I’m certain you would have managed without me,” Hawk said before turning away.
Skye quelled a sigh as she watched him walk down the corridor. It was frustrating, not knowing how she could persuade him to reconsider, but for now she would let herself relish the moment when her beloved uncle found the love of his life once more.
* * *
It was an hour later before Rachel sought her out. Her eyes were swollen from crying, and yet she looked happy.
“Cornelius loves me still,” she effused once Skye had ushered her into the nearest empty room so they could be alone. “I cannot believe it.”
“You agreed that a love as strong as yours would not easily die.”
“I know, but even so … I want to pinch myself. Is this truly happening?”
“Yes, dearest Rachel.”
“Cornelius actually wishes to marry me.”
Skye felt surprise and delight at the same time. “He proposed?”
“Not in so many words. And I was glad he did not press me.” Rachel’s expression sobered, her smile fading. “I could never accept his offer until I tell him about his daughter, and I cannot bring myself to tell him yet. He will hate me when he learns I concealed such an enormous secret from him.”
“I am certain he won’t hate you, Rachel, but perhaps that knowledge would be too much, coming so swiftly after he learned you had risen from the dead. What did you say to his implication about marriage?”
“That I couldn’t decide just now. That I needed time to consider.” She gave a faint sob that was half laughter. “Cornelius is resolved to court me as he never could before. He says he will have to rely on you and Lady Isabella to advise him, since at his age, he knows nothing about romance.”
“I think he is doing quite well on his own,” Skye said, amused at the thought of her elderly, staid, bachelor uncle seeking her advice.
Rachel’s face suddenly clouded. “There is still a great need for secrecy. We have no idea how Edgar Farnwell would react if he learned of my resurrection.”
“True.”
“Cornelius and I mean to follow Lord Hawkhurst’s suggestion. We will pretend that we have just met and that we are falling in love for the first time.”
“I think that is a perfect plan. You can take your romance one day at a time.”
Rachel took Skye’s hands. “However can I thank you?”
“By making my uncle happy,” she answered earnestly. “I promise you, that will be more than enough thanks.”
The castle had yet another visitor that afternoon: the Bow Street Runner charged with investigating the late Baron Farnwell and his son and heir, Edgar. Hawk was closeted with Horace Linch for the better part of an hour, but by the time Skye learned the caller’s identity, he had already departed.
Wanting to know what Linch had said, she went in search of Hawk and was told the earl had gone to the stables. When she reached the stable block, though, she found he had ridden out on his new stallion.
Since the noise from the renovations was louder than ever, Skye was glad to escape on her own mount. She found Hawk in the same meadow as before, putting the stallion through its paces. She spent a moment admiring the beauty of the purebred animal, whose black coat glowed richly in the sunlight, and its magnificent rider, who effortlessly controlled the creature’s savage power.
Spying her, Hawk came to a halt and gave her time to ride up to him. He didn’t look particularly pleased to see her, but neither did he order her to leave.
When he raised an eyebrow expectantly, Skye explained why she had come. “Did Linch discover anything of significance from his investigation?”
“A few items of note. You may read his written report, but to summarize, William Farnwell was severely disliked by the servants and tenants in his district,
and Edgar Farnwell is not much better. It seems Edgar inherited his father’s temper.”
Frowning, Skye bit her lower lip. “That does not bode well for Rachel. If Edgar is half the brute his father was, there may be no reasoning with him. She may always have to remain in hiding, or at least maintain a disguise.”
“Perhaps, but it is too early to make that judgment yet.”
“I suspect my uncle would be willing to share her exile. He is already hinting at marriage. But I would much prefer that he be free to live in England.”
“You are jumping ahead of yourself, aren’t you?”
Skye’s smile was troubled. “I suppose so. There are still so many issues to be resolved between them. I just wish it were over and they could live happily ever after.”
“You need to control your impatience.”
“Aunt Bella told me something similar.”
She glanced around them at the peaceful meadow. The bordering woods were shedding their leaves in a profusion of color. “This place is lovely.”
Rather than agree, Hawk appeared eager to return to his training. “Do you have any other need of me?”
“Actually, I do. I wanted to warn you, we will be eating in the dining room this evening. It is only polite to offer your houseguests a table to dine on, and it will also spare the servants having to carry dishes all the way to the drawing room.”
“I consider myself warned.”
“Then may we count on you to join us?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I realize you might prefer to eat and even sleep in the stables, but my uncle will be pleased to meet you and become better acquainted.”
Hawk ignored her teasing. “If there is nothing else … my horse gets fractious from standing too long.” As if on cue the stallion started prancing and dancing sideways. Hawk clearly wanted to return to work.
“May I stay to watch you?” Skye asked.
“Why?”
“Because I’ve never seen anything so fascinating—and because I want you to have company.”
His mouth twisted sardonically. “You are coddling me again, wretch. I told you there is no need.”
“But I have a need to be sure you are not moping,” she declared, keeping her tone light.
The gray eyes showed a fleeting flash of amusement, which quickly disappeared. “I am not moping—and no, you may not stay to watch me.”
Skye persevered. “I can understand why you flee your home every chance you get, but it is not good for you to spend so much time alone.”
“Being alone suits me.”
“Aren’t you ever lonely?”
A shadow crossed his features. “I don’t allow myself to feel loneliness. Now if you are quite done …?” He closed his hands on the reins, preparing to turn away.
“I am not done trying to reform your reclusive habits, although I know it will take time. If I have learned anything from my own family, it’s that men are foolishly hardheaded and stubborn sometimes, and it takes a woman to knock some sense into them.”
Hawk narrowed his gaze on her. “Don’t you have work to do at the castle?”
“Not at the moment.”
“Then shouldn’t you be keeping your uncle company?”
“He is occupied with Rachel and marveling at his good fortune at having found her alive after so long.”
“Then pray go find someone else to pester,” Hawk snapped.
“And to think you just told me to be patient.”
When real vexation claimed his expression, Skye surrendered. “Very well, I am going before you growl at me any further.”
She shot him her sweetest smile and turned her mount toward the castle. As Aunt Bella had advised, she would have to be patient and bide her time, but it would not be easy.
It would be even harder to reach through to the warm, human man buried beneath Hawk’s enigmatic, unyielding façade, but she was not giving up, no matter how many times he sent her away.
Hawk was primarily irritated at himself for his reaction to Skye. Her smile had shot straight to his loins—and worse, made him want to smile in return. She did that to men—dazzling them with her infectious, enchanting smiles, bewitching and befuddling her unwitting victims.
Fortunately he was no longer unwitting now. Clearly Skye was still intent on pursuing him as her ideal mate, and now that she’d accomplished her chief goal with her uncle, she was free to turn her full attention to him. But he was just as determined to hold on to his resolve.
Hawk resumed schooling the stallion, hoping work would serve to take his mind off Skye. Over the course of the next few days, however, the battle lines between them became more apparent. Often to his exasperation, Skye never wasted an opportunity to poke and prod him and prevent him from returning to his life as a recluse.
Her efforts in beautifying his house also continued. “A magnificent home such as this one deserves to shine again,” Skye said. “Moreover, I owe you a great debt for helping my uncle. This is my way of repaying you.”
When large numbers of servant staff started to arrive—the result of Lady Katharine’s employment efforts—they were set to work applying beeswax and turpentine to the furnishings, polishing the lamps and chandeliers until they glistened, washing and dusting every nook and cranny, and painstakingly cleaning the lavish gilt and plaster and flocked paper of the walls and ceilings.
Skye insisted on consulting Hawk about the redecorating—her way of keeping him involved, even though he cared little for such matters. She even convinced him to accompany her around the estate grounds to solicit his opinion and preferences for changes. “You must make the major decisions about your estate, my lord, since your future bride is not present to do it.”
Once the interior was progressing, she turned her focus to restoring the overgrown gardens to their former glory, saying, “It is a veritable jungle out there.” The new chief gardener brought in crews of laborers to tackle the tangled vegetation, cutting back the haphazard growth, pruning dead limbs, and planting bulbs for the spring, but Skye enlisted Rachel to supervise the rejuvenation of the rose garden. “She knows much more about roses than I. Besides, she and Uncle Cornelius need a place to court other than your stuffy library.”
By now Hawk had no trouble detecting Skye’s fine hand at work, along with her sweet manner of manipulation. She did everything possible to promote her uncle’s courtship and relished every tender moment the lovers shared—and freely admitted it with an edge of self-deprecating humor.
“I know I am a hopelessly incurable romantic. My cousin Kate is even worse.”
“I shudder to think,” Hawk drawled.
His reply sparked laughter in her eyes. “I need my attempts at matchmaking to be successful. I am obviously not a very good seductress, or I would have made more progress with you.”
Hawk froze, his attention caught up in her blue eyes—so expressive, so lovely, so captivating. It was all he could do to look away.
He couldn’t escape her frequent company, though. She and Isabella both greatly enjoyed riding. Intent on leaving Cornelius and Rachel alone, they regularly asked Hawk to act as their guide on excursions around the countryside.
If the days were difficult, the nights were worse, with his sexual fantasies of Skye as erotic as ever. Hawk spent many an early morning hour lying awake, his body on fire for hers.
Fortunately with all the guests living in his house, they were seldom alone. And then their numbers increased with the arrival of Skye’s cousin Katharine.
“Kate wants to be part of our uncle’s romantic adventure,” Skye explained. “And we need to put our heads together and decide what to do about Rachel’s daughter.”
Lady Katharine Wilde was a striking beauty herself, with a taller, riper figure than Skye’s and different coloring—auburn hair and stunning green eyes. But like Skye, Katharine possessed a sharp wit, a lively sense of humor, and the celebrated Wilde charm.
The penetrating look she gave Hawk upon meeting him s
eemed thoughtful and measuring, as if she were withholding judgment about him until knowing him better.
She was also unmistakably protective of Skye, and they clearly adored each other. More often than not, they could be seen laughing together. Skye seemed more content and serene with her cousin there—which she later explained in a quiet moment of candidness to Hawk. “Kate is only my distant cousin but is closer than any sister could be. We faced our parents’ deaths together and afterward grew up in the same household and attended boarding school together.”
Overtly, Lady Katharine had the more spirited personality, and Hawk sensed that like Skye, she preferred to rule her own fate. He could see how the two beauties together would hold sway over the ton and command the devotion of numerous suitors, which made it all the more puzzling that they were both of an age to be considered spinsters—until one recalled that their quest for true love was modeled after the world’s greatest lovers.
By week’s end, Hawkhurst Castle and its grounds were filled with people—guests, servants, merchants, laborers—and rang with the turmoil and noise of renovating as well as laughter and music, a stark contrast to the somber atmosphere he had faced at his arrival. His house was much warmer and livelier with the gaggle of Wildes living there, but it was Skye herself who made everything seem brighter with her energy and her appealing joie de vivre.
Hawk found himself watching her quite against his will. She found pleasure in small things, the sort of pleasure he’d deliberately shut out of his life: the freshness after rain, a romantic poem, the beauty in a golden sunset, the tang of hot cider, the scent of autumn leaves.…
That last revelation came about when she dumped a pile of leaves on his head on purpose, exhibiting her mischievous tendencies. She had dragged him out to the edge of the park to inspect the gardeners’ progress, when, bending, she had scooped up an armful of leaves and shoved them under his nose.
“Just smell these. Isn’t this scent divine?”
“Behold me in raptures.”
His dry response brought a spurt of laughter from her. Before Hawk knew it, Skye threw up her arms and flung the whole lot into the air above him, raining leaves down upon them both.
Secrets of Seduction Page 17