Harlequin Historical September 2021--Box Set 2 of 2

by Annie Burrows

  Was that because she still did not see him as a real man? Even after seeing him completely naked? Could this be any more humiliating? That anger that he had fought so hard to suppress while he was making his apology started to ferment within him.

  ‘But that was hardly your fault,’ she continued. He detected some muffling of her voice, suggesting she had placed her hand over her mouth. At least she had the decency to show some embarrassment about seeing a man without a stitch of clothing on.

  ‘You’re right, I shouldn’t have rushed into your room without thinking. I wouldn’t have done it if I’d known you were—’ she laughed again, the sound still holding a hint of awkwardness ‘—less than formally attired.’

  ‘Well, we’ve both apologised, so the less said about it the better.’

  ‘Yes,’ she said quietly. ‘We certainly wouldn’t want it getting out that I had seen you less than formally attired.’

  ‘Hmm,’ he murmured, not wanting to continue this conversation and wishing she’d stop repeating that phrase. With the apology out of the way, finally he could drink his coffee in peace. He rarely ate breakfast, and this morning he had even greater reason to refrain. He had no intention of delaying Lady Iris’s departure any longer than was necessary. Although she apparently liked to partake of a hearty breakfast. Knife and fork scraped against her plate, and the smells wafting across the table suggested bacon, eggs, sausages and freshly baked bread. Cook must have decided the guest needed to be fed well before she departed.

  Hopefully, she would eat quickly and refrain from talking while she did so.

  ‘And your servants have managed to get my clothes dry and remove all the mud,’ she said, his hope for silence dying an immediate death.

  ‘You’ll be pleased to know I’m now dressed like a lady again and not in gentlemen’s attire,’ she said, open amusement returning to her voice. ‘Although they couldn’t do a thing with my hat. It still looks like a poor, drowned creature. I don’t know what I’m going to tell my mother. I’ll have to think of some reason why my hat spent the night out in a storm while I was tucked up safely in my bed at the Walbertons’. Although I can’t for the life of me think what that reason might be.’

  ‘Are you always this cheerful in the morning?’ Theo said, cutting through the chatter that threatened to go on without end.

  ‘Yes, I am. Thank you.’

  ‘That wasn’t a compliment.’

  ‘Oh, wasn’t it?’ She stopped talking and Theo hoped that would be the end of it, even though he now knew from painful experience that such a hope would be in vain.

  ‘But it can’t be an insult. After all, there’s nothing wrong with being cheerful, is there? Particularly on a morning like this, when the sun is shining, the birds are singing and everything has that lovely fresh smell you get after it’s been raining all night. It’s simply glorious and makes you glad to be alive.’

  ‘Some people like silence in the morning, even on “simply glorious” mornings,’ he said, making ‘simply glorious’ sound like the worst type of morning there was.

  ‘Well, nobody I know likes to be silent in the morning. At least no one in my family. Well, my father is rather quiet, but he’s never objected to my mother, my sisters and I talking while he eats his breakfast, and my brother, Nathaniel, is just as talkative as me. If you think I’m noisy you should meet the entire family. Then you’d realise I’m actually one of the quieter members.’

  Heaven forbid he should meet more like Lady Iris. But fortunately he was never likely to have the misfortune of meeting any other members of the Springfeld family, and certainly not the entire family en masse.

  ‘It’s just a man likes to drink his coffee before he’s hit with a barrage of such buoyancy,’ he said, explaining something that he did not believe needed explaining in his own home.

  ‘Oh, I see. Would you like me to wait till you finish your coffee before I hit you with the full force of my cheerful good nature?’

  He made no reply, merely refilled his cup as a signal that he still wanted silence.

  ‘And I could say the same thing to you,’ she continued, not picking up on his signal. ‘Are you always this grumpy in the morning?’ She waited a mere second. ‘No, don’t answer.’

  As if he were going to.

  ‘I think I already know what you’re going to say about your moods in the morning.’ The trilling note in her voice suggested that, if anything, she found his mood to be a source of great amusement.

  Theo reached out to the bell that always sat in the middle of the table and gave it a hearty shake, hoping to drown out her infernal teasing about his moods.

  ‘Charles, has the coachman prepared the carriage yet?’ he asked the moment his servant entered the room. ‘Lady Iris wishes to return home as early as possible.’

  ‘The coachman has been informed to make haste and to let us know the moment it is ready,’ Charles replied.

  ‘Good.’ Theo wondered whether the servants were delaying Lady Iris’s departure, because it did seem to be taking an inordinate amount of time. They couldn’t be that disloyal, could they?

  They had never shown disloyalty before, even following all the changes that had taken place after his accident. Their lives, as well as his own, had altered irreparably following that fateful night. He had once entertained regularly. While that meant additional work for the servants, it also meant they got to socialise with the servants from other households who stayed over so they could attend to their masters and mistresses. He suspected they missed that aspect of their work. He knew Cook missed being able to organise lavish dinner parties, and the butler and housekeeper missed running a busy household. But despite the changes in the way he lived, he had retained all the servants as part of his household. They now simply had much less work to do. Surely that was an improvement on the long hours that servants in most households worked, and they were happy with their lot. He was certain of that. At least, he had never before had any reason to doubt their loyalty.

  No, he was sure they wouldn’t be so impertinent as to delay Lady Iris’s departure any longer than was absolutely necessary, not when it must be quite obvious that he wanted the woman gone. It was her—she was making him imagine things.

  ‘Charles, would you please go and see what is holding up the coachman? The man has had ample notice to get the horses and carriage ready. Remind him that it is imperative that Lady Iris gets home as soon as possible.’

  ‘Very good, my lord,’ Charles said before departing.

  ‘You really are anxious to get rid of me, aren’t you?’ Iris said. ‘You must really like spending all your time completely alone.’

  A sudden, painful contraction gripped his stomach, as if he had been drinking a noxious substance instead of coffee. ‘I enjoy my own company,’ he said, horrified to hear a constricted sound in his voice.

  ‘Hmm.’ Her reply sounded as if she did not believe him.

  But what did he care if she believed him or not? He did not need to justify the way he lived to her or to anybody.

  ‘We are not all the same, Lady Iris. Some of us enjoy solitude and quiet,’ he said, trying to justify himself, even though he believed it was not necessary.

  ‘And living in solitude and quiet is what makes you such a contented person, is it?’ she said quietly.

  How dare she? This really was outrageous. Was she expecting him to defend the way he lived, to her?

  ‘You don’t have to be on your own, you know,’ she continued, her voice still quiet.

  Theo was too astounded to speak. Did this slip of a girl really think she could give him advice on how he was supposed to live his life? She knew nothing of him. Knew nothing about anything.

  ‘Your neighbours, the Walbertons, are very friendly, very welcoming people. And I’ve met some of your other neighbours at their house. They are all very nice people. Perhaps you should make
more of an effort to spend time with them.’

  ‘And perhaps you should keep your opinions to yourself.’

  She really was the limit. He could inform her that he knew exactly what sort of people the Walbertons were. He had once spent a great deal of time in their home, and they had attended many social events at this very house. He had also once entertained his neighbours on a regular basis. But that was in the past. He lived a different life now and had absolutely no intention of changing the way he lived just because she did not approve.

  He waited for her to continue with her relentless chatter. To give him another piece of unwanted advice. She said nothing. Finally, he had the silence he was craving, but damn it all, he had been rude to her again. Although this time it was no less than she deserved.

  ‘Thank you for your advice on how I should live my life,’ he said, fighting to keep the sarcasm at an acceptable level. ‘I’ll give your opinions the consideration they are due.’

  ‘I’m sure you will,’ she said with equally false politeness. ‘And I’m sure we won’t be seeing you at the Walbertons’ or any of your other neighbours’ very soon.’

  In response he merely took another drink of his coffee.

  The door opened. ‘The carriage is ready, my lord, to take Lady Iris home.’

  Thank God for that, Theo almost said. At least now this ridiculous conversation could come to an end, at least now he would not be subjected to her advice or have to put up with her laughter and unrelenting chatter.

  ‘Very good, Charles. I’m sure Lady Iris will be leaving soon, assuming she has had sufficient breakfast.’

  ‘Yes, I have, thank you, Charles.’ Fabric rustled as she stood up. ‘I’ll leave you to drink your coffee in peace, shall I?’

  ‘No, I’ll accompany you to the carriage.’ Why had he said that? After being less than welcoming to her last night and snapping at her this morning, why the sudden compunction to be courteous? Was it guilt over his bad manners, or was it just that he wanted to make sure she really did get in the carriage and leave?

  He followed the sound of her swishing skirts down the hallway and out through the entranceway. She was right about the change in the weather. The sun was shining warm on his face, the grass and the trees smelt fresh and the soil had a rich, loamy scent. It was as if the world had been born anew after last night’s storm.

  Counting the steps, he walked down the front entrance to where the carriage was waiting.

  ‘Well, goodbye,’ she said. ‘And thank you so much for your hospitality.’

  Hospitality. Surely she was jesting. He’d provided her with shelter, nothing more. He had done everything he could to be as inhospitable to this cheerful young thing as was possible, without being openly hostile.

  ‘Goodbye, Lady Iris,’ he said, with finality.

  With much rustling of fabric, she entered the carriage. Then the coachman flicked the reins, the horses whinnied in reaction to the effort needed to get the vehicle moving, coach wheels crunched on the gravel, and the carriage left the house.

  He remained standing at the entranceway, just to assure himself that she really had gone, then walked back up the stairs.

  ‘Good riddance,’ he said under his breath as he entered the suddenly quiet house.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Iris turned in her seat and looked out of the carriage window at the lone figure walking up the stone steps into his home.

  It was unlikely she would ever see the Earl of Greystone again, but Iris knew she would never forget him, nor the night she had just experienced. He was certainly intriguing, and Iris could not remember any other time when a man had so piqued her interest.

  She sat back on the leather seat. Now she would return to the endless round of balls, parties, picnics and soirées that constituted her life. It was just a shame none of the men she met at those social events were as interesting as the Earl of Greystone. Not that she would see him as a potential husband. The mere thought of it was enough to make her laugh. The man treated her with contempt and behaved as if enjoying oneself were a crime against nature. These were certainly not characteristics she was looking for in a potential husband.

  She looked back out of the window, at the retreating house. He was grumpy, ill-mannered, and had chosen to cut himself off from the rest of the world. No, he was most definitely not husband material, and even if she were interested in him, which she wasn’t, he most certainly was not interested in her. He had made that abundantly clear. This morning he couldn’t push her out of the door fast enough.

  But on the other hand, even though he was grumpy, at least he didn’t fawn over her and treat her like a pretty ornament the way most men did. And yes, he was rude, but he spoke his mind to her, rather than treating her with kid gloves as if she were a sensitive, delicate little thing who was easily hurt. It had all been rather refreshing in an unexpected way.

  And in an equally unexpected way she suspected she would not be able to forget Theo Crighton, the Earl of Greystone.

  Just as she knew she would not be able to forget or stop worrying about those demons that tormented him in his sleep. The carriage turned onto the country road, obscuring the house behind a row of elm trees. What those demons were, Iris would now never know. It presumably had something to do with whatever it was that had caused his scars, possibly even his blindness. Would he be afflicted by those dreams again tonight, with no one in the house to help him, to hold him? He was such a physically strong man, and yet he could be reduced to a state of thrashing, sweating agony by something that invaded and possessed his sleeping mind. He needed help, but he had made it perfectly clear to Iris that he was not prepared to accept it, and certainly not from her.

  She released a long, sad sigh. Why did he think he was so different from everyone else? Everyone needed the help of others. Everyone needed to be supported at times, to know that they weren’t alone and that help was at hand should they require it.

  But there was nothing to be done about it. Probably, that would be the last time she would see Theo Crighton, so she might as well try to put him and all her unanswered questions out of her mind, especially as she had other worries that should be occupying her thoughts. Right now, she needed to focus on returning to the Walbertons’ house as discreetly as possible. She should not be thinking about the Earl, his behaviour, his demons and she most certainly should not be thinking about how he looked when he was less than formally attired, as he had so euphemistically described it. Iris smiled and bit her bottom lip.

  Less than formally attired, indeed.

  She shouldn’t be thinking about it, but she knew she would never forget what the Earl looked like less than formally attired, and really, why would she want to forget such a sight? He had been quite simply magnificent, a feast for the eyes, and she should have been ashamed of herself for doing exactly that, feasting her eyes on his beautifully formed body last night.

  But it certainly wasn’t shame that was causing that little tremor to ripple through her body. She sat up straighter on the bench, trying to suppress that strange feeling and reminding herself that she had to stop thinking about the Earl. She needed to keep her wits about her so she could creep into the house without anyone seeing her or asking any difficult questions.

  They had not travelled far, but the surrounding countryside already appeared familiar. Iris twisted in her seat to watch a group of pretty thatched cottages perched on the top of a cliff overlooking the ocean pass by the carriage window. She had admired those cottages when she had first set out on her walk yesterday, a walk that had lasted several hours. And yet the cottages were but a short carriage drive from Theo Crighton’s home. She must have been walking round and round in circles. No wonder the Earl had thought she was a ninny, getting lost so close to where she was supposed to be. If she’d only stuck to the road. If only she’d walked in the correct direction, she could have been back in a matter of minu
tes instead of wandering endlessly and aimlessly until she was hopelessly lost and disorientated.

  The Walbertons’ home soon appeared, looking grand and stately on the top of a hill. The curtains were all firmly closed in the upstairs bedrooms of the three-storey house. Good, no one had as yet risen from their bed. The coachman turned into the long gravel driveway that led up to the front of the house.

  ‘Excuse me, driver,’ she called out. ‘Would you please drop me off here? I can walk the rest of the way.’

  ‘Very good, my lady,’ the driver said, pulling on the reins. He jumped down to help her out of the carriage and after thanking him Iris looked up at the house to reassure herself that it was still completely quiet.

  As quickly as possible she walked up the long driveway, avoiding the puddles left by last night’s rain. The servants would already be up and about their work, even if the guests were still sleeping off last night’s entertainment. Hopefully if any of them did see her they would merely think she had been out for an early stroll and not mention it to their mistress or master.

  As quietly as possible she entered the house, and on tiptoes ran up the stairs to her bedroom. No one was about. It had all been surprisingly easy. Smiling to herself, she entered her bedroom. Then stopped, her hand still grasping the doorknob.

  Her mother, the last person she wanted to see, was standing in the middle of the room, staring at Iris’s bed, its tucked-in corners and pristine silk cover revealing that it had not been slept in.

  ‘Good morning, Mother,’ Iris said, fighting to keep her voice as even as possible.

  Almost before the words were out, her mother flew across the room and threw her arms around Iris, clasping her tightly and rocking her from side to side.

  ‘Oh, Iris, I thought you were... I thought... I don’t know what I thought. That you were kidnapped, maybe, or something else terrible had happened to you.’ She stepped back and placed her hand on her heart. ‘I am so relieved to see you.’ Then she frowned. ‘Where on earth have you been?’