‘Well, now, Your Grace,’ Rockbeare said, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees. ‘I make no doubt you are wondering what is of such importance that I needs must steal you away from the company of your friends.’
Leo murmured a non-committal response.
‘Did you ever make the acquaintance of the late Earl of Lydney?’
Leo frowned, searching his memory as he sipped his glass of Madeira, which was, indeed, excellent.
‘Lydney?’ In his mind’s eye he saw the man: fair-haired and slightly stooping with a penchant for making impassioned speeches in the House of Lords on the few occasions he attended. ‘I knew him by sight, but only to exchange pleasantries. Our paths crossed very occasionally, in the House and around the clubs. He died recently, did he not?’
‘He did—about a year ago. I shall come straight to the point, sir. Lydney died quite unexpectedly. He left a will, naming his younger brother as guardian to his children. Unfortunately, however, his brother predeceased Lydney by three months. I dare say he thought he had time enough to amend his will, but events overtook him.’ His gaze rested on Leo as he added, ‘We all think we have enough time, do we not? One day, we will be wrong.
‘But...I digress. Lydney’s daughter, Lady Helena, is eighteen years of age and his son, Jack—the new Earl—is but fourteen years old. A schoolboy still. The Court of Chancery appointed their maternal uncle, Sir Peter Tadlow, as their guardian and trustee of the estate.’
‘Tadlow?’ Again, Leo dredged his memory. ‘Yes, I know the man by sight, but know nothing about him. Am I to presume there is a problem with his appointment?’
‘I doubt he moves in your circles, Your Grace, but it transpires the man is a gambler, and is deep in debt. Now, Lydney and I went back a long way. We were friends at school and we did the Grand Tour together. Although we saw one another infrequently in more recent years, we were avid correspondents and I have concerns about the welfare of his children. Tadlow has already established himself at Lydney, living it high at Jack’s expense and inviting all manner of ne’er-do-wells to stay. Helena has a generous dowry and I hear Tadlow has already tried to force her to wed Bulbridge, to whom he is in debt.’
‘Bulbridge? I wouldn’t let that scoundrel anywhere near my daughter.’
‘Quite. Well, Helena was forced to flee—her own home!—and she is safe enough for now in the care of her father’s sister, Lady Glenlochrie. It was always intended her aunt would present her to society, so Tadlow cannot do much about that, but he is still living at Lydney with no one to prevent his plunders.’
Leo tapped his fingers against his glass, frowning. ‘How do you imagine I might advise you, Rockbeare? It sounds as though Lady Helena is safe for now and I must assume Jack is out of harm’s way at school?’
‘Yes.’ Rockbeare paused, frowning. ‘The truth is that I am uncertain how they may be helped, but...I had hoped... Maybe I should not...but...’
Rockbeare paused again and Leo waited. He thought he knew what the old man was angling for, but he wanted the suggestion to come from him. Rockbeare drained his wine glass, set it decisively on a side table and dragged in a deep breath.
‘I dread to think what will happen to Helena if she fails to secure a husband this Season. Tadlow will be within his rights to demand she return to Lydney and I fear she will be unable to withstand his demands. As for Jack’s inheritance, I understand Tadlow has a past acquaintance with the solicitor handling the trust. Who is there, then, to ensure the estate is not bled dry before Jack comes of age?
‘I am a simple man. I have lived in the country most of my life and, as I said, I am moving north very soon. Who is there to look after their interests? They have need of someone who will champion their cause.’
‘And you thought I might be able to help?’
‘Your influence is considerable, Your Grace, where I have none. If you were to write to Tadlow and that rogue of a solicitor...if they know you are watching their conduct...it is a lot to ask but, when you return to town, would you at least call upon Lady Glenlochrie and speak to Helena? Or, if you cannot bring yourself to intervene, at least tell me what steps...legal steps...might be open to me to help protect those children.’
Leo would not refuse. Young Lydney was a peer of the realm and, as such, warranted his protection. He would set Medland—his man of business—on to it when he went to London.
‘You did right to consult me, Rockbeare. I will do what I can.’
Rockbeare passed a shaky hand over his forehead as his breath escaped in an audible rush. Gone was the bluff, hearty countryman of that morning. He suddenly looked his age.
‘I didn’t realise,’ he said in a shaken voice, ‘quite how heavily the responsibility weighed upon me until now, Your Grace. I am most grateful.’
‘You can safely leave matters with me. Now,’ Leo continued, ‘before I leave, there is a matter of business I should like to discuss with you.’
An hour later, the purchase of Foxbourne Manor having been concluded to both parties’ satisfaction, Leo took his leave of Sir William.
* * *
Freddie and Susie were in the sitting room when Rosalind arrived home and she sent Susie to help Penny in the kitchen. She and Freddie had matters to discuss but, first, she relayed Sir William’s offer to collect him at two, to take him to the library at Foxbourne. Freddie’s face brightened at the prospect of spending the afternoon amongst his beloved books.
‘Sir William had other news, as well,’ Rosalind said, taking a seat on the sofa. ‘News that was not as welcome. He intends to move north to live with his daughter and her family, and he is selling Foxbourne Manor.’
‘And, by definition, this place. How soon must we leave?’
‘He has to find a buyer first,’ Rosalind said. ‘I should think we have a few weeks to make our plans. Even if he does sell, I should hope the buyer would not eject us immediately, but we cannot rely upon that.’
Rosalind was now convinced their duty was to return to Lydney Hall, but Leo’s comments about her overprotectiveness had stirred her conscience and she was determined this would be a joint decision.
‘It is time we decided on where we shall go when we do leave.’
‘You mean you have not already decided?’
‘Freddie!’ Rosalind’s protest was half-hearted. Mayhap she deserved that taunt. ‘We must find a solution that suits us both. Do we go back to Lydney and Sir Peter, or do we look elsewhere?’
‘I did hope we could leave that choice until after Nell’s Season,’ Freddie said. ‘We would better understand our options.’
‘That is true, but we no longer have that luxury. I shall not, however, regret losing Mr Lascelles as our neighbour. He was polite enough this morning at the Manor, but I cannot find it in myself to trust the man.’
‘Neither can I. I must confess, I found the charming Lascelles even scarier than the offensive version,’ Freddie said, with a grin. ‘Was he at the Manor when you arrived?’
‘No. I saw him as I left. Mr Lascelles and his guests had an appointment to view the horses for sale. Sir William is selling them all, Freddie.’
‘I suppose he must, if he is to move.’ Freddie spoke absently, his eyes on Rosalind but it seemed as though he barely saw her. His brows twitched into a frown as he then said, ‘Was Boyton there?’
Rosalind felt her cheeks glow. ‘Yes. He enquired after Susie.’
‘So he will now have no need to call this afternoon.’ The satisfaction—or was it relief?—in Freddie’s words set Rosalind’s hackles to rise.
‘Why should he not call? He will wish to see Susie for himself, I should imagine.’
‘But you should not receive him, Ros. It would be improper without me here. You must take care where your Mr Boyton is concerned.’
‘My...? He is not my Mr Boyton, Freddie.�
� Rosalind forced a light laugh. ‘The man is a virtual stranger. He is merely concerned for Susie’s welfare.’
A muscle bunched in Freddie’s jaw. ‘Do not try to hoodwink me, Ros. I have seen the way you look at him and I make no doubt he sees it, too, and recognises it for what it is.’
Rosalind shot to her feet and marched across the room to the window, battling to control her anger and humiliation.
How dare he criticise me after all I have given up?
No sooner did that thought fly into her thoughts than she shot it down. Yes, she had sacrificed her future for her family, but she had done it willingly. With love.
‘You may be older than me, Ros, but you are naïve in the ways of men,’ Freddie continued. ‘Sir Peter’s methods were more direct and disrespectful, but sweet words and come-hither glances are simply a more subtle and socially acceptable way to achieve the same end.’
Rosalind faced her brother again. ‘I am not a green girl to be duped by such tactics, Freddie. Besides, Mr Boyton is a gentleman and, if he does happen to call later, do not forget that both Penny and Susie are here. There is nothing for you to worry about.’
Freddie snatched up his crutch and limped across to Rosalind. He took her hands in his.
‘You may not be so young, but you are inexperienced, Ros. Please take care not to be alone with him. Do not forget he believes you to be a widow. A man such as he—no matter how much the gentleman—is interested in a widow for one reason. It is up to you to set the correct standards of behaviour. He will be gone all too soon, after which I doubt he will give you another thought. As for his cousin, well! There is your proof of the sort of gentleman Mr Boyton is.’
Rosalind set her teeth and forced her lips into a stiff curve.
‘I promise I shall take care, Freddie.’
He nodded, and returned to his chair, but his cautions had stirred a cauldron of resentment deep inside Rosalind, swamping yesterday’s vow not to risk being alone with Leo again.
Why should I not have a gentleman admirer?
Freddie was wrong about Leo—he was indeed a gentleman. A gentleman, moreover, who kissed like a dream and made her, for once, feel like an attractive female and not just someone’s sister or an over-the-hill spinster.
That kiss!
Never before had she felt like this about a man, but it was not only his kiss that had seduced her—all it had taken was one look from those silver-grey eyes of his, the first day they met, and she had known. Deep down.
Deep in the core of her body and the centre of her soul, what she had felt was pure, instinctual recognition. Of him.
Leo was gentleman enough to accept any limits she set—he had already proved that to her—so, if she wished to experience again that intoxicating rush of desire, aroused by the brush of his lips against hers, why shouldn’t she? Why should Freddie dictate what she might or might not do? A kiss was not the same as relinquishing one’s virtue. If she wished to snatch a few more minutes, or hours, with the man who had captured her imagination and her heart, then why should she not?
She did not fool herself there would be any future for her and Leo—she might be naïve, but not that naïve—but why should she not create some wonderful memories to sustain her through the lonely years ahead?
* * *
Quarter past two that afternoon found Rosalind pacing the parlour at Stoney End, kneading her handkerchief between her hands.
I should have listened to Freddie. Why didn’t I send a message to Leo, telling him not to call this afternoon?
Any sane woman would protect herself from temptation and scandal, but she had allowed her anger with Freddie to colour her good judgement and fuel her defiance. Now, with Freddie gone—Sir William had arrived on the stroke of two, as promised—Rosalind’s nerves had resurfaced. After another circuit of the room, common sense reasserted itself. She would not wait here for Leo to arrive. Kamal needed exercise. When Leo came to see Susie, Rosalind would not be at home.
She picked up her skirts and ran up the stairs to change into her riding habit. She bundled her hair up, pinning it haphazardly, and secured her hat in place, memories of Leo and that kiss playing havoc with her nerves. She knew she could not resist the urge to kiss him again. She tugged on her leather riding gloves, threw her fur-lined cloak around her shoulders and hurried down the stairs and down the hall to the kitchen.
‘Penny, I am going out. I am in the mood for a long ride, so do not be concerned if I am gone for a while.’
‘But it is so cold, ma’am. You’ll catch your death.’
‘I will soon warm up with a vigorous gallop.’
‘But...it is not safe. Nor is it proper for you to ride out alone.’
Rosalind curbed her irritation. ‘I ride down to the village on my own most days, Penny. I did not hear you raise objections.’ She lifted the latch on the back door. ‘And I have no choice but to ride alone. I shall take Hector and I shall stay on Sir William’s land. Do not worry.’
‘But...I thought Mr Boyton was to call?’
‘If Mr Boyton visits, it will be to see how Susie is. He is unlikely to call after we saw him this morning but, if he should, I make no doubt he will be relieved not to have to sit and make polite conversation with me.’ She opened the door, conscious of the minutes ticking past. ‘Give him my apologies, and tell him...no. There is no need to tell him anything. Merely apologise I am not at home to receive him.’ She craned her neck to peer over Penny’s shoulder. ‘Be a good girl for Penny, Susie. I shall see you later. Hector! Come, boy.’
With one bound, Hector was at Rosalind’s heels. She closed the door and hurried across the yard.
Behind her, she heard the back door open and she was forced to bite back a caustic rejoinder as Penny called out, ‘It looks like rain, ma’am. Please, do not go too far.’
Rosalind was forced to retrace her steps to reply, her insides a mass of collywobbles in case Leo appeared.
‘If it does rain, I shall take shelter. Please, Penny, stop fussing. My mind is made up. I need the exercise and the fresh air. I shall be quite safe with Hector. Go in and shut the door. You are letting the cold air in.’
She saddled and bridled Kamal with more speed than ever before, and led him from the barn. If Leo arrived now, all this rush and hurry would be for nothing. She needed to get away: away from the temptation in those sinful silver eyes and those sensual, persuasive lips. She led the horse outside to the mounting stone and settled herself on to his back, arranging the folds of her cloak around her. She picked up the reins and hesitated, her brain racing. Rather than venture out on to the lane and risk meeting Leo, she decided to ride up the path that led behind the barn and in the direction of Foxbourne Wood.
She was barely out of sight of Stoney End when she brought Kamal to an abrupt halt, an unladylike curse escaping her lips. Ahead of her was a familiar figure on a large bay horse. Rosalind’s heart hammered in her chest as Leo, a slow smile stretching his lips, nudged Conqueror forward to close the gap between them.
His eyes were dancing with suppressed laughter.
Despicable wretch.
‘What are you doing here?’
‘Waiting for you.’
Chapter Eleven
Rosalind stared at Leo. How could he possibly have known? He held her gaze as he sat his horse, reins loosely held in one hand, the other resting on his thigh. Powerful. At ease. Confident. Freddie’s warning whispered through her thoughts, but she shook it away, as a horse might shake its head to rid itself of pestering, buzzing flies. This man—she felt it deep in her soul—posed no danger to her. Whatever transpired between them today, she knew instinctively that she held the power to stop wherever and whenever she wished. She would be in control.
She drank in the lean, hard planes of his face, his dark-shadowed jaw and the teasing light in his
silver-grey eyes and her doubts dissolved like early-morning mist under the onslaught of the rising sun. She sucked in a deep breath and smiled. Leo had anticipated her attempted flight and she was happy. Laughter bubbled and her smile widened. He would leave soon and their paths would never cross again. She baulked at looking that far into her future.
Pain was inevitable, whether she spent this afternoon with him or not. She was a thirty-year-old spinster with the chance to experience something of the passion and the joy she had relinquished for the sake of her beloved family. She would take this chance to create memories and to discover something of her own femininity and desirability.
Boldness rose to take control, to shrug aside her conscience. This afternoon, she had the chance to learn and explore. A delicious shiver caressed her skin at the thought. She had no need to guard her reputation in the same way a society lady must. Whatever happened, no one would ever know apart from her and Leo, and she trusted him instinctively not to gossip.
She rode towards the trees, the mantle of responsibility slipping from her shoulders leaving her weightless and worry-free as she led the way into Foxbourne Wood, following a broad track forged by the wheels of timber carts. The heat of Leo’s gaze was upon her, the air between them heavy with words unspoken and all too soon those doubts she had so successfully crushed mere moments ago resurfaced to peck at her resolve. She fidgeted in her saddle. She could not change her mind now. Leo would think her an irresolute fool and she... With a thump of her heart she knew she would regret her lack of courage.
She cast a sideways glance at Leo. His strong profile, the set of his jaw and those all-seeing eyes—now fixed unwaveringly on the path ahead—made him seem remote and unapproachable. Severe, even. Rosalind shifted again in her saddle and Kamal flicked an ear back in response.
‘How did you know?’
‘I guessed you might panic, given too much time to think, and that you would head away from the lane. We rode along this path with the hunt the other day...the day we met.’ He reached for Kamal’s rein and brought both horses to a halt. ‘Freddie’s absence would have made no difference. I would quite happily have sat in the kitchen and talked, and Penny would have been an adequate chaperon.’
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