by Gill, Tamara
"Lord Lyon, I do apologize. I was woolgathering and not watching where I was going."
"No," he said, shaking his head. "It is I who should apologize. I hope you are not injured. I came about the corner without thinking that anyone else would be strolling so early in the morning."
"Oh, well, as to that," she said, holding up a square basket with a small napkin sitting atop of it. "Your cook found me in the breakfast room this morning and asked me to rush this out to you for your trip to town. I'm glad that I caught you, for I do want to wish you well and thank you again for allowing me to be here and care for your mama. I promise I shall take care of her for you."
Theo took the basket that Miss Smith, Elena held out for him, the scent of chutney and ham teasing his senses. "Thank you for bringing me my lunch, but it will no longer be necessary to wish me farewell. The horse is lame, and I cannot leave for another week at most."
"Oh, I'm so sorry," she said, her wide brown eyes drawing him in and making the harsh reality of him being stuck here in Somerset not so dreadful after all. Not when Elena was under his roof, a welcome distraction to his otherwise strained and depressing existence.
"But a week is not so very long. I'm sure the horse will be better in no time, and you shall be on your way." She moved past him, and he turned and walked beside her as they started back toward the front of the house. "Does business take you to town, or do you intend to enjoy the highlights of the Season, which, if I'm correct, is in full swing in London."
Theo thought about her question a moment, wondering how truthful he needed to be with her. Not that he needed to tell her anything, she was a lady's companion after all, and he did not need to be so open with her, but there was something about Elena that he liked and trusted and the desire to lay down all his troubles beckoned like a soothing balm.
"There is little doubt that you have noticed the estate and grounds are in a dreadful condition. My father was cheated out of some very valuable land during a card game in London several years before his death, and while we own this great estate and several thousand acres of forest, we no longer have farming land. I'm in need of a rich wife, Miss Smith. That is the truth of my situation, and the sooner I arrive in London, the sooner I shall find one who needs a marchioness coronet in exchange for saving my to let pockets."
She frowned up at him, and he could not help but wonder what she was thinking. Did she think him a pathetic gentleman landowner who did not know how to budget and live within his income? He was, of course, better than his father ever had been with budgeting, but it would have been welcome to have the income from those prized lands to keep the house and grounds from falling into disrepair. To pay his taxes.
"What does 'pockets to let' mean, my lord? I do not think I have ever heard of the expression."
He grimaced, wishing he did not need to explain. "It means that there is nothing in my pockets anymore, Miss Smith. That they are to let to anyone who can fill them with blunt. I never wished to find a wife in such a way, I would have liked to marry for affection, but it is not to be for me, unfortunately. I must think of the estate, my mother who relies on me to keep a roof over her head and a warm meal on the table each night."
Miss Smith pulled him to a stop, the touch of her hand on his arm making him yearn for things he could not have. Had he been rich enough, a woman such as Elena would have caught his attention. He had never cared about title and rank. Above all else, he prized a person's character, honesty, and integrity. Miss Smith, from what he knew of her in the three short days since she had arrived at his estate, was all those things. And beautiful too, inside and out. His mama certainly liked her very much, and she was a good judge of character.
"Surely your position can not be so grave. Is there anyone in the country that is wealthy enough that you may be able to court without leaving Somerset at all? I know a week is not so very long, but what if the horse is lame for longer than that time? What will you do then?"
He shrugged, continuing their walk and starting down the front drive, bypassing the front doors. "I suppose there is little I can do about it. I shall just have to hope the horse is not, and I can return to town next week. I do hope you do not think less of me marrying for wealth alone, Miss Smith. I feel like I have burdened you with all my concerns, and they are not yours to bear at all."
"Not at all," she said, her tone light and without censor. "I am more than aware of what expectations families place upon their children, what is expected of them. I commend you for doing what you must to secure your future. I know I should not like to lose such a home, should I risk losing one such as Lyon Estate. I do hope your trip to London happens soon and you do all that you set out to achieve, my lord."
"Thank you," Theo said, her words soothing his confused soul. To marry for money had never sat well with him, but then, as Elena said, he was not the only person who would do the same should the need arise. And his future wife, whomever that ended up being, was not coming away from this marriage with nothing.
He would dote on her, spoil her and love her, make her as happy as he could, and in time, perhaps both their emotions would become engaged, and they would find a happy medium and have a happy life.
Miss Smith dipped into a curtsy and, with a small smile, turned and walked back to the estate. He watched her go, a feeling of loss coming over him that he was making a mistake, no matter what was at risk.
To marry for money and security was no marriage at all and would only end in dissolution and regret.
He hoped he was wrong, but he could not shake the feeling that he was not and that his trip to London would be the beginning of the end, not just for the estate but for his own happiness.
Chapter 10
Elena watched from her bedroom window as Lord Lyon strode about the gardens, kicking small border stones out of the way whenever he came across one. He appeared lost and so alone, and her heart went out to him.
So much pressure on his shoulders, no matter how broad they were. With all that he had to achieve, marry well and line his pockets, the weight of what he must do was a lot to bear, especially when his lordship had stated that it was not the kind of marriage he desired.
Elena looked about her room, better than others she had seen in the home. At least in here, the silk wallpaper of exotic birds was not peeling away, exposing the plaster beneath.
The house needed thousands of pounds of repairs. The estate, from her vantage point up high in her room, had once been beautiful. The garden designs could easily be seen, the lawns, overgrown, stretched out beyond to the river and the wooded acreage that surrounded the estate.
When he married well and had his home as it once had been, she would like to see it again, to see he was settled and happy and the estate as it should always have been.
You are rich enough to save him, have him for yourself, and marry him.
She was, she admitted, but she could not tell him now who she was. What would he think of her when she admitted she had lied to him? Played a servant, for heaven's sake, and all so that she could escape London for a month.
He would think her a spoiled, little royal brat, and there were times she had felt the same about herself. But then she remembered how much she loathed crowds, the noise and fake laughter, the false friendships and men who sought a princess, not the woman beneath all the silk and jewels.
The laughter was the worst. She could not help but feel it was aimed at her. That people were judging her whenever they found something funny, and their eyes met across a ballroom floor.
The reality of it was that they were probably not laughing at Elena at all, but after months of torment from her uncle, she could not stomach society. She could not return now to London, not when she enjoyed herself so much here in Somerset.
Lady Lyon was so pleasant and accommodating, allowing her time to roam and relax, just what she needed. She supposed it was fortunate that her ladyship had recognized her through her mama, for she had gifted her with the little holiday she needed t
o regroup and revitalize herself.
His lordship stared out over the grounds, hands on his hips, and she couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking. Were his thoughts as jumbled as her own? Did he think of her at all?
She had not thought of marrying anyone, certainly not while away in the country, but being here now, getting to know Lord Lyon, she could not help but contemplate a future as his marchioness.
He was kind and sweet, and he had saved her life. He would be a good husband. She was certain of that. No man who cared and loved his mother as much as he did had a mean bone in his body.
He turned and stared up at the house. Elena did not move from where she stood in the window, and she smiled when he bowed in her presence before striding off and out of sight.
The marchioness was downstairs, having decided on an afternoon tea with a nearby elderly neighbor. Elena was invited, of course, but playing the part of companion, she had cried off and allowed her ladyship to catch up with her friend alone.
Elena left her room, deciding on giving herself a tour of the home instead. The house was enormous, over one hundred rooms, she was sure, and the south wing she had not visited at all.
She walked down the passage. The farther along she went, the cooler the air in the hall became. She supposed not being lived in, the windows’ furnishings were drawn and allowed little light. The doors were closed in this part of the house, and mold covered the wood paneling on the walls. The carpets were tattered and in need of replacing, and parts of ceilings were falling away.
What a dreadful state the home was in, and she could understand why Lord Lyon needed a rich wife, and yet, he would need a lady who was not only rich but immensely so to make the estate as grand as it once must have been, to return it back to its former brilliance.
"You've found my shame," a masculine voice sounded behind her.
She spun about and found his lordship standing only a few feet from her. His disillusioned gaze on the walls and floors, just as hers had been.
"I'm sorry to intrude. I thought I would give myself a tour, and I had not seen the south wing yet. I hope you do not mind," she said.
He moved past her, shaking his head. "Not at all. The house is what it is, and you know my circumstances now."
Elena moved to walk beside him as they made their way farther along the passage. They came to the end of the corridor where instead of a door, an archway led into a large room that overlooked the stables and the grounds on the south side of the estate.
Elena looked out the window, the pane of glass in need of a good wash. She spied a maze that she had not noticed before, although it too needed a good prune.
"What was this room, my lord?"
He moved farther into the space and wrenched open the drapes over several windows, and a large, rectangular ballroom appeared. Dust floated in the air as the room came into focus. Or at least, what was left of the space after years of neglect.
A fireplace sat along its center wall, gold gilding upon two cherubs that held the marble mantel in place. Large mirrors ran along the walls, opposite the windows, and Elena could imagine its beauty, the parties and dancing that the room had seen.
"There has not been a ball at the estate for twenty years. I can only remember this room covered up and unused."
Elena walked along the parquetry floor, coming up to his lordship. "I do hope that you are able to have your home just as you wish it and how it must have been. I know I would have loved to have danced in such a room. A lady’s companion could only dream of attending such an event," she lied, knowing she had danced in much grander rooms than this one, but none had been Lord Lyon's ballroom, a man whom she was starting to respect more than most.
He stared down at her with a small smile. She nibbled on the inside of her lip, her mind a whirl of thoughts. Of what he would feel like if they kissed. Thoughts that she should not be having.
She should have stayed in London instead of running away for a month if she wanted a husband. Had she done so, even now, she may have met Lord Lyon and allowed him to court her?
But then you would never know if he married you for love or money.
True, she inwardly sighed. Pitying the woman he would marry in a small way.
He held out his hand, and Elena frowned, wondering what he was up to.
"Will you do me the honor and dance with me, Miss Smith?" he asked her.
Elena had slipped her hand into his before she thought to answer, eager to be near him, to touch him in any way she could. He pulled her against him, and heat kissed her cheeks. Her stomach fluttered, her heart beat loudly in her chest.
She wanted to be in his arms, to have him watch her as he did right now as if she were everything he ever dreamed of, even if she were not. She could dream, could she not? That a man would choose a woman he believed to have nothing, and marry her anyway, even when he needed a wife that would save him from financial ruin.
He spun her into a waltz, and she laughed, forgetting everything that would keep them apart and instead throwing herself into the dance. He watched her, his eyes holding her captive, and she could not look away. He drew her in like a moth to a burning flame.
"You dance very well, Elena. How is it that a lady's companion is so very fluid on the dance floor?" he asked, his hand dipping lower on her back, his thumb running along her spine and making delectable goosebumps on her skin.
"I have been tutored in all dances, including the waltz. To be a proficient lady’s companion, one must be able in all things."
"All things? Really? How intriguing that sounds," he teased, a mischievous quirk to his lips.
She wanted to kiss him. She wanted his lips on hers, no longer asking questions about her training as a companion, which was naught. She only wanted to feel him, to have him for herself.
To keep him here in Somerset for the month so there could be moments just like this one to enjoy. The thought of him leaving for London made her want to cast up her accounts. To hear of his marriage to someone else would surely kill her stone dead.
"Do not try to tease me into saying something that is inappropriate, my lord. I merely meant dancing, sewing, riding, and talking. All the things that you hired me to do while I'm here."
"You may call me Theo, Elena. I should have stated so yesterday when you offered me the use of your name, but no more titles between us. Not when we're alone."
"Then I suppose I should make use of using it here and now, for we cannot be alone like this ever again. It would not be wise or appropriate. As a companion, that is one rule that I am quite aware of." And as an unmarried princess, she was quite aware of it too.
Her sisters would skin her alive should they know she was dancing with an unmarried lord in a dilapidated ballroom in Somerset without a chaperone. And not just any dance, but the waltz.
"You have not made use of my name yet?"
Elena felt as though she stood on a precipice. That if she were to say his name aloud, everything would change. Their friendship, their ease and conversation, everything would alter.
But nor could she deny his request. It burned a way up her throat and out into the open, and there was no pulling it back when it was released. "You dance very well, too, Theo."
Somewhere within their conversation, they had stopped dancing, and they were merely holding each other in the middle of the room. His hand tightened on her back, stroking her through the muslin material of her gown. Never had the touch of a man, not in any previous dances she had taken part in, caused her to long for more of his embrace.
His eyes darkened, and she read the need, the struggle within his soul over what he wanted to do and what he should not attempt. She recognized the struggle, for she fought with it too.
Elena made the decision for him and reluctantly stepped out of his hold. He did not need her muddling his mind any further than it already was. He was to London to find a wife. She was not ready to be one, not just any man's wife in any case. She wanted a love match, and as much as she respected
and liked Lord Lyon, he did not love her.
You could fall in love with each other given the opportunity, a whispered voice taunted her.
Elena continued to inspect the room, forcing away the need for the man not a few feet from her. His lordship did not follow, and she was grateful, not certain she could deny him a second time should the opportunity arise.
"The dowager is probably free now, Miss Smith. You may go if you like, I shall see you at dinner this evening," he said, formal once again, the detached gentleman he ought to always be.
A stab of disappointment pierced her soul that he understood her rejection of him and conceded she would not be swooning in his arms any time soon.
"Of course, my lord. Thank you for the tour. I do hope one day to see the ballroom in its full brilliance."
He threw her a small smile, his face shuttered and guarded against any emotion. "Let us hope that you do, for I should like to see it as well."
With that, Elena left, making her way downstairs and back beside the dowager where she was safe from handsome lords. Gentlemen she was more than suitable to marry if only she was certain it was for affection and nothing else.
She could not abide a loveless marriage of convenience. That would never do.
Chapter 11
Theo lay in bed later that night, the moonlight and cooling breeze off the lake giving some relief to the hot and uncomfortable night. Not just because of the suffering hot days they were enduring, but because Miss Smith, Elena as he now knew her had put his mind into a spin and made his body a fiery tempest.
You want her.
His mother's companion.
He was a bastard even to contemplate such a liaison. She was an unmarried maid. Pure and sweet, delicate and capable, but poor. Had he money to burn, the courting of her in truth, of seeing if what he felt whenever he was around her ran deeper than friendship could have been a possibility. His mind and body had never been so stimulated as it was when in her presence. He looked for her everywhere about the estate and wanted to be near her whenever he could.