Rosalind frowned. ‘I am certain that ladies in the Americas do not warrant any less in the way of respect and politeness than an Englishwoman.’
‘But I did not move in the best circles in America and I admit I need re-educating in the matter of how to treat a lady. I assure you I shall not lapse again. Now...’ a charming smile lit his face ‘...do say you will accept my humble apology.’
Such a blunt request could not be denied. Rosalind inclined her head. ‘I accept. I cannot speak for my brother, however. He might not be so willing to forgive.’
She did not know how objectionable Lascelles had been because Freddie had refused to expand upon his earlier visit.
‘Ah, your poor brother. I am afraid I allowed my disappointment that you were not at home to sharpen my tongue. I owe him an apology, too, and...’ he raised his hand, revealing a bottle he carried ‘...I have brought a peace offering. There is very little that cannot be settled over a glass or two of brandy, I find. If you will be so gracious as to permit me entry?’
His prompt admittance of fault disarmed Rosalind and now she had no choice but to stand aside and allow him in. As she closed the front door, his very proximity and the strong smell of bay rum that accompanied him sent the hairs on the back of her neck rising and she suppressed a shudder. As much as the thought of Leo’s inevitable return to London sent her spirits sliding into a dark pit, Lascelles’s departure could not come fast enough. She led the way to the sitting-room door and paused, waiting with her head high for Lascelles to open it for her.
‘Freddie,’ she said, as she walked in, ‘our neighbour, Mr Lascelles, has something he wishes to say to you.’
Freddie pushed himself upright using his crutch, a scowl on his face.
Lascelles walked past Rosalind, striding across the room to Freddie. ‘Do not feel obliged to stand on my account, Allen. I am come in peace, to apologise for my rudeness yesterday. And, to demonstrate my regret, I have brought a gift—’ he raised the bottle ‘—in the hope that you will share a glass with me. It is the finest French brandy. Only do not, I beg of you, enquire too closely from whence it came.’
He smiled and, despite her misgivings, Rosalind could detect no hint of deceit in his expression. Freddie raised a brow, but he lowered himself back into his chair and leant his crutch against the wall, within his reach.
‘Very well,’ he said. ‘Although I have since learned that your objectionable attitude extended to my sister when first you met. That, sir, is inexcusable. I shall hear your excuse for that and we shall see. Rosalind, would you fetch two glasses, please?’
Rosalind went to the dining room, where the glasses were stored in the china cabinet. She removed two, then hesitated. If she was to endure a visit from Lascelles, she might have need of a boost to her courage. She reached for a third glass.
Chapter Eight
Leo urged Conqueror into a trot as he left Malton, eager to return to Stoney End and to Rosalind, even though he had no news to impart. His questions had met with blank looks and shaken heads wherever he had enquired. No one had seen Susie. No one knew anything about a lost child, or about a child living a tramp’s life. The vicar, however, had promised to make enquiries around the parish, and in the adjoining parishes, and he had also passed on to Leo some clothing suitable for a girl of Susie’s age—undergarments and dresses and a warm coat outgrown by his own daughter and destined for the poor of the parish. Leo made a mental note to ask his secretary, Capper, to send a donation to the vicar for the poor fund as soon as he returned to London.
Finding Susie had interrupted his precious time with Rosalind, but he could not regret rescuing the poor child. His heart had gone out to her as she had cowered in the corner of that shed, trapped by those bullies. An orphan. He had seen how his own children suffered when their mother died, but at least they’d still had him and Cecily.
No, he did not regret the interruption. There was always tomorrow. They were due at Foxbourne in the morning, to view the pony pair for Felicity, but he could always slip away from the others in the afternoon, and now he had a perfect excuse to visit Stoney End and spend time with Rosalind. That she was compassionate as well as beautiful added to her appeal. She had shown no hesitation in following him into that store shed, despite the possible danger, spurred into action by the sound of a crying child. He had sensed her hesitation at first sight of the filthy, matted sight that was Susie and yet, very quickly, her concern for a child in need had banished her reluctance.
Stoney End soon came into view and Leo reined Conqueror to a halt with a curse. A striking dappled grey stood tethered to the front gate. He had seen that horse before, in Lascelles’s stables. And that could only have one meaning—unless Vernon or Stanton had unaccountably decided to call at Stoney End, his cousin was even now inside the house.
What was he up to? Leo would put nothing past Lascelles and, right now, he was with Rosalind and Freddie. His protective instincts fully roused, Leo dug his heels into Conqueror and cantered him up the path that led to the stable. He leapt to the ground, led Conqueror inside, then strode across the yard to knock on the back door. He did not wait to be admitted, but walked in before the echo of his knock had faded.
Penny stood up when Leo came in. Susie—loosely swathed in a linen towel, the numerous scratches and bruises on her face now even more apparent—sprawled across Hector, who was stretched out by the fire. There was no sign of Rosalind or of Freddie. Leo paused, listening. The remainder of the house was quiet.
Penny gestured at the bundle Leo carried. ‘Are those for the child?’
‘Yes.’ He placed them on the table. ‘They are from the vicar. Where is Mrs Pryce?’
‘She is in the parlour with Mr Allen. I will take you to them, if you care to follow me.’
Penny led the way from the kitchen, speaking to Leo over her shoulder. ‘We had a visitor not long ago, but Mrs Pryce answered the knock as I was occupied with the child. She has not asked for refreshments to be sent in, however, so I doubt whoever it was came inside.’
She opened the parlour door. ‘Mr Boyton is here, ma’am. Oh! I did not...that is, shall I bring refreshments?’
Leo strode past the maid, then stopped short at the sight of his cousin, Rosalind and Freddie, all seemingly quite relaxed as they drank from glasses of amber liquid. A scan of the room revealed a half-empty bottle of Lascelles’s finest brandy. There was no tension palpable in the room. Apprehension threaded through Leo. His cousin was clearly on a charm mission and that disturbed Leo more than if he had been his usual disagreeable self.
He recalled Vernon’s warning about Lascelles always coveting what Leo had, or what Leo wanted. He must caution Rosalind to take care. He should have done so before, but had thought it unnecessary because Rosalind had taken Lascelles in such dislike upon first acquaintance.
‘Thank you, Penny,’ Rosalind was saying in reply to Penny’s question, ‘but, as you see...’ she raised her glass ‘...we already have sustenance thanks to Mr Lascelles’s generosity. You may fetch another glass for Mr Boyton, however, if he cares to join us?’
Her tawny brows rose in query. Her eyes were clear of any shadows, exhibiting no anxiety at Lascelles’s presence in her house. Leo stifled a sigh. Lascelles had given Rosalind and Freddie just cause to dislike and distrust him and yet still he had managed to lure them both into forgiving him. Leo had thought Rosalind more sophisticated than to fall for such superficial charm.
‘Thank you, I will.’ He remained standing, but moved to the fireplace, to rest one elbow upon the mantelshelf.
‘Coz!’ Lascelles’s black eyes gleamed as he looked from Leo to Rosalind and back again. ‘What a surprise, to meet you here.’
‘I could say the same.’
Lascelles’s eyes widened. ‘Why, Coz, surely not when it was you who prompted my visit after our little talk.’ He shook his hea
d. ‘My cousin is the most perceptive of men, my dear Mrs Pryce. It was he who brought me to the realisation that my behaviour on the day we met might result in a permanent division between neighbours. I decided to make both my apologies and my peace with you and your brother in the hope we will not be strangers, but—and this is the least I can hope for—polite acquaintances. I expect no more than that.’
Leo’s gut tightened as Lascelles smiled widely. Never in his life had anyone tempted him to lash out as much as Lascelles.
My own cousin.
The fact he had justification for feeling that way did nothing to improve his self-contempt. He should be able to rise above his emotions.
‘I am flattered my advice made such an impression upon you.’
Lascelles smirked in response to Leo’s growl.
Penny brought a clean glass, which Leo accepted with a murmured ‘thank you,’ and Lascelles leaned across to fill it. Leo quaffed a generous mouthful, relishing the ease with which it slid down, his tension beginning to abate.
‘Oh, as ever, my dear Coz. And I confess myself relieved that Mrs Pryce and Mr Allen have both found it in their hearts to forgive our poor start.’
‘I can assure you, sir, that neither my brother nor I would wish to be on bad terms with any of our neighbours. Would we, Freddie?’
Rosalind smiled at Lascelles, seemingly totally relaxed, but Freddie shifted in his chair, sipping from his glass before replying.
‘Indeed not, Sister.’
The hint of reservation in his tone gave Leo heart. Freddie had impressed him with his quick intelligence and it would seem he was not entirely taken in by Lascelles. At least someone at Stoney End would be on their guard against his cousin once Leo left Halsdon Manor.
‘Did you discover any information about Susie in the village, Mr Boyton?’
Leo cursed under his breath, his hope that his cousin would not find out about their earlier meeting dashed.
Lascelles’s brows rose. ‘Are you running errands now, Coz? I confess I did wonder where you sloped off to this morning. You now have my full attention, Mrs Pryce. Who is Susie?’
Rosalind told him the tale of how they rescued Susie from the bullies.
‘Most commendable. So, tell us, Coz—what did you discover in Malton?’
‘There was nothing to discover. Nobody knew anything about a lost child. The vicar, however, promised to make enquiries around the neighbourhood and he also provided some clothing for Susie.’
Rosalind jumped to her feet, beaming. ‘Oh, that is splendid. I must go and see them. I have been racking my brain to think how we might clothe her. Her own garments were beyond mending. I had resigned myself to sacrificing one of my own gowns.’
Both Leo and Lascelles rose to their feet when Rosalind stood up and Leo took the opportunity to say, ‘We have imposed on your time too long, Mrs Pryce. You are eager to settle Susie into your household and you cannot do that with visitors to entertain. We shall take our leave of you now.’
‘Indeed we shall.’ Lascelles reached for Rosalind’s hand and bowed low over it.
Leo’s hands bunched into fists. Lascelles did not go so far as to kiss Rosalind’s hand, however, but released it, saying, ‘Thank you for your generosity of spirit, Mrs Pryce. I shall look forward to our next meeting. Good morning to you, too, Allen. I am pleased we have settled that little misunderstanding. After you, Coz.’
He gestured with a wide-flung arm towards the door.
‘Wait for me at the front of the house,’ Leo said. ‘My horse is at the rear. I will join you shortly.’
Leo caught Freddie’s eye and, with a flick of his brows, indicated that Freddie should see Lascelles out. As he hoped, Rosalind accompanied him to the rear of the house.
‘Come with me out to the stable,’ he murmured, pausing outside the kitchen door. ‘There is something I need to say.’
She held his gaze, her eyes searching his.
God, I want to kiss her.
He brushed the back of his fingers against her cheek, and her lids lowered, lashes lying in a crescent on her skin. She gave a tiny nod.
Penny, wooden spoon in hand, stood at the kitchen table with a large mixing bowl in front of her. Susie knelt on a chair by her side, dressed in the donated clothing. Her long brown hair had been tightly braided, and the green dress donated by the vicar proved an adequate, if somewhat loose, fit.
Leo paused next to the little girl.
‘I shall come to see you again tomorrow, Susie. In the meantime, please be a good girl for Mrs Pryce and Penny.’
Susie smiled, revealing a gap in her teeth. Leo cast his mind back to his own children’s infancies and concluded the gap was a natural one that would soon be filled again, not the result of violence. Now she was clean and dressed, she was a fetching little thing. If they could not find out where she came from, Leo’s eldest son, Dominic, was patron of an orphan asylum where she could be trained as a maid or a seamstress. Her future was much brighter than if she had continued to run wild.
Content they had done the right thing in rescuing her, Leo walked to the door.
‘I will see you out,’ Rosalind said. ‘I must check Kamal has some hay. I will be back in a few minutes, Penny.’
Penny barely acknowledged her mistress’s words, too busy showing Susie how to stir the mixture in the bowl.
Leo and Rosalind crossed the yard in silence. As soon as they entered the stable Leo took her hand and tugged her to face him. She tilted her face to his and the pure yearning in her eyes almost undid him. He cradled her face, taking his time, watching her eyes darken. Honey-scented breath feathered his skin, triggering a powerful urge to take—swiftly controlled.
He touched his lips to hers, gently tasting her until her mouth softened beneath his and only then did he deepen the kiss. Desire crashed through him, staggering him with its intensity and, again, he brought it under control, lowering his hands to his sides, touching her only with his mouth. She leaned in to him, her lips warm and sweet beneath his, and Leo relished each and every taste of their soft fullness. The instant he sensed her hesitate, he ended the kiss. Her lips were still parted, her lids drowsy, and her full breasts brushed enticingly against his chest with each heaving breath.
Her lids rose, as did her brows, and her gaze sought his. Her lips firmed and twitched into a smile.
‘There was something you needed to say to me?’
Was there? He could not concentrate when she stood so close, her scent weaving through his senses. Why had he succumbed to that impulse to kiss her? All it had achieved was to leave him craving more. Much more. He stroked her bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. Her lips parted and her breath quickened, igniting his blood once more, and he acted on impulse, covering her luscious lips with his again. For one glorious second her lips softened beneath his, but then she wrenched her lips from his, her palms against his chest, pushing.
‘Please. We must not...’
Her beautiful eyes were filled with longing, belying her words. He tore his wayward thoughts from the image of Rosalind writhing naked beneath him and forced out the warning he knew he must voice.
‘You should not trust him.’
‘Lascelles?’ Rosalind folded her arms, her shoulders hunched. ‘I do not trust him. Have you forgotten what happened when we first met? I can assure you I have not, and nor will I.’
‘But...’ Leo pictured her again, in the parlour, conversing with Lascelles. ‘You are clearly an excellent actress.’
She raised her brows. ‘Or an accomplished liar?’
He bit back a smile. ‘Tease me if you will—I shall admit to nothing other than relief that I was mistaken. I am surprised you are quite so undisturbed by his visit, however.’
‘It is a matter of practicality.’ She huffed a laugh. ‘I feel I have little cho
ice. I cannot see any advantage in my denying him—a man such as your cousin thrives on confrontation. Any resistance to our acquaintance on my part will, of a certainty, encourage more persistence on his. I am hopeful that he will reciprocate accordingly if I continue to deal with him in a polite and pleasant, neighbourly manner.’
‘I hope you are right.’
Leo’s assessment of Lascelles’s character was of a more complex and dangerous individual than Rosalind had described, but she did not know him as Leo knew him.
He was conscious he must not give Lascelles further reason to suspect how much he desired Rosalind.
‘I must go before my cousin comes searching for me. May I see you again?’
Her expression grew serious. Her chin dropped to her chest as she stared at the ground. She heaved a sigh.
‘I am sorry... I must ask you to only call upon me here at the house, where I shall be chaperoned. I must have a care for my reputation, particularly with your cousin in the neighbourhood. Heaven forbid he should ever find out...’ Her words stuttered into silence and she looked up, meeting his gaze, pink suffusing her cheeks. She hauled in a breath. ‘It is shameful enough that I permitted you to kiss me in the first place, without tempting further indiscretions.’
Surprised a widow should be quite so cautious, Leo injected a falsely cheerful note into his voice. ‘You admit you might be further tempted? Dare I think there is hope for me yet?’
‘Hope?’ She shook her head. ‘Hope for another stolen kiss? To what purpose, may I ask? We have the most casual of acquaintances, soon to be ended when you go back to London.’
She tilted her head, looking up at him. Light from the half-open door lit her features, and he saw her sadness—an echo of his—but he also recognised her resolve. Without volition, he reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear before dropping a brief kiss on her forehead, breathing the scent of her skin, feeling his soul expand.
Cinderella and the Duke Page 8