by Anne Herries
‘We English?’ Hester glared at him. She knew that he was deliberately provoking her once more. ‘You might care to remember that you are half-English, Mr Clinton.’
‘Yes, but I had the advantage of being brought up in America. We are not so hidebound as you English. Our minds are more open to change—to taking chances and going for what we want from life.’
‘I am not hidebound!’ Hester said, losing her calm manner. ‘I am perfectly capable of accepting new ideas, sir. If you did not wish for my advice, you should not have asked for it. Why did you?’ Her eyes sparked with temper.
‘For the pleasure of seeing you when your polite manners slipped a little,’ Jared said. He had been sitting opposite her and he suddenly moved to sit beside her. She caught her breath as he reached out and pulled her into his arms. ‘I like you very much when you forget to be the very proper Miss Sheldon.’ He bent his head and kissed her soundly. Letting her go a few seconds later, he smiled as her eyes widened as if in surprise. ‘That was your second kiss, I believe? You will bear some teaching, but…I think we should suit very well, Miss Sheldon. You may teach me how to behave in English society, and I shall teach you how to kiss. I am sure that is a fair exchange.’
‘Well, I am not,’ Hester said, gathering her dignity. He was trying to provoke her into another display of temper. She would not oblige him. ‘I shall not slap you for doing that, sir. It was not the action of a gentleman, taking advantage as you did, but I shall put it down to your unusual sense of humour and forgive you—this once. Should it happen again…’
‘You would cut the acquaintance, I imagine?’ Jared returned to the seat facing her. ‘I agree that it was not the action of an English gentleman—but I never claimed to be that, Miss Sheldon. I am an American and wild in my ways, a bit of a savage. I thought your lawyer had warned you?’
‘You are many things, sir,’ she replied coolly, ‘but not ignorant or untutored. I do not know quite what you are up to—but I am not going to fall out with you over a kiss.’
‘Oh, how disappointing,’ Jared said. ‘I quite thought you would fly into a temper.’
‘Would that have pleased you?’
‘I don’t know. You have eyes that reflect your mood, Miss Sheldon. When you are angry they are magnificent. I told you I like nice eyes.’
‘You are incorrigible, sir. Please behave! I do not wish to have to force you to continue the journey on top of the carriage.’
‘I see, I am in disgrace.’ Jared leaned back, clearly unimpressed. ‘Well, I shall not apologise, Miss Sheldon. I enjoyed the kiss—and I still think we should suit.’
‘I do not have a fortune,’ Hester said. ‘I am almost seven and twenty and unlikely to marry anyone.’
‘But I just told you…’
‘You were mocking me. If you do not stop, I shall not speak to you for the rest of the journey.’
‘Forgive me, Miss Sheldon. I’ll marry Lady Mary to please you.’
‘Ridiculous man!’ She glared at him and then, seeing the gleam in his eyes, gave a reluctant laugh. ‘Yes, you are a wicked tease, Mr Clinton. I do not think you have any intention of marrying Lady Mary—or any other heiress.’
‘I am not so sure,’ Jared told her. ‘If you refuse me, I may be driven to it.’
‘You cannot be serious?’
‘Can I not? Well, perhaps it is a bit soon,’ Jared said. ‘I do not really know you—but I have decided that I do like you, Miss Sheldon. May I call you Hester? Is it too soon?’
‘Much too soon,’ she replied. ‘But if you really wish to, I dare say I cannot prevent you.’
‘No, but I shall not do it if it displeases you,’ he said. ‘I am sorry. I should not have kissed you just now. It was so tempting, but it was not right. Will you forgive me?’
‘Yes, if you promise to behave in future.’
‘I promise not to do it again for the remainder of the journey. I cannot promise that I shall never try to kiss you again.’
‘You know that we could not marry,’ Hester said. ‘Please stop this foolishness and be sensible. Will you really stay here? Will you marry to oblige the family?’
‘I shall make you a promise,’ Jared said. ‘If you find a lady I can love as much as my father loved my mother, I shall marry her—and if she has a fortune, so much the better.’
‘You will look for a wealthy bride?’
‘You will look for one for me,’ Jared said and his expression was once again inscrutable. ‘Present the right lady and I will marry her.’
‘Oh…’ Hester looked at him. He seemed to be serious for once. She did not know why she felt reluctant to agree, but he was clearly waiting for her answer. ‘I shall try.’
‘Good,’ Jared said, settling back and closing his eyes.
Hester frowned. How annoying he was to declare his intention of going to sleep! They were just beginning to get to know one another and now he was refusing to talk to her. And after he had thrown her into confusion by kissing her in such a way that it made her pulses race. He really was too bad! She bit her bottom lip, feeling at odds with herself. She should be pleased that he had almost given his word to stay, and to marry an heiress if she could find the right one, but somehow she had an awful sinking sensation inside.
She began to review all the widows she knew in her mind, and the single girls who were heiresses to considerable fortunes. None of them seemed exactly right, and she found herself wishing that she had been an heiress herself so that Mr Clinton would not be obliged to marry for the sake of money.
What was she thinking? Hester pulled herself up sharply. How foolish she was to give even a moment’s thought to his ridiculous assertion that they would suit very well. He had been mocking her. She was sure of it. They would not suit at all…at least, she had no wish to marry him. She had no wish to marry anyone.
Yet her eyes returned to his face as he sat with his eyes closed time and again. He had begun to grow on her, she found. At first she had thought his features harsh, but when you thought about it, he was rather attractive. Not handsome, but interesting, strong…a man you felt would support you in times of trouble.
This was foolish in the extreme. Even if they fell madly in love—which they had not and would not!—a marriage would be impossible. The estate needed money and it was Mr Clinton’s duty to provide it.
Chapter Four
‘Hester, my dearest child,’ Lady Sheldon said and opened her arms to embrace her. ‘You look very well. Did you have a pleasant trip?’
‘Very pleasant, Mama,’ Hester replied and embraced her mother, a pretty if delicate lady with a slightly anxious air. ‘How have you been—and the duke?’
‘We go on tolerably well, though you know my health is not always of the best, my love—and your grandfather misses you so much he growls like a bear when I try to be of help to him.’
‘Poor Mama,’ Hester said and laughed. ‘It is just as well that I did not stay longer with my godmother.’
‘I trust she is well.’ Lady Sheldon looked past her daughter at the man standing watching them with evident interest, a gleam in his eyes. ‘But we forget our manners, Hester. You have not yet introduced me to this gentleman.’
‘Forgive me, Mr Clinton,’ Hester said, turning to Jared, a faint flush in her cheeks. ‘Sir, this is my mother—Lady Sheldon…Mama, this is Mr Clinton or perhaps, as Grandfather will insist, Viscount Sheldon.’
‘My friends call me Jared, ma’am,’ he said and took the hand she extended, bowing over it as elegantly as any aristocrat at court. ‘I am delighted to meet you at last.’
‘Oh…’ Lady Sheldon blushed, for she had not known quite what to expect. The lawyer’s letter had seemed to hint that Amelia’s son had gone to the bad, but this gentleman was perfectly presentable. His clothes had been cut by a master tailor, though not as exquisite as those worn by the pink of the ton, but the rather severe style looked well on him. She considered that he made his clothes rather than them making him, as was often
the case with a tulip of fashion. ‘You are very welcome, sir. The duke is looking forward to this visit.’
‘We must hope that he is not disappointed, ma’am. I fear you may have hoped for a man of some fortune, and I am sorry I cannot offer a solution to your worries.’
‘Hester has told you of the situation, I see…’ Lady Sheldon looked at her daughter. She had been against Hester going alone to meet him in London, but the duke had said he trusted her daughter’s judgement over any man’s, and she had been obliged to give way. ‘It is unfortunate that you see the house in its present state, sir. The fire made such a mess of one wing, and we have not yet been able to set the restoration in hand.’
Jared’s eyes scanned the interior of the hall into which he had been led. Outside, the large, Queen Anne house was beautiful as the fire had made little difference to the thick grey stone walls, and, having been caught in time, had not reached the roof. It did not look as if it had touched the main section either, and here inside it was just a matter of years of neglect. The original ceiling had some beautiful friezes, but some of them had crumbled a little and would do better for careful repairing. The staircase leading up to the first floor was magnificent, the wooden balustrade ornately carved, but the carpet along the upper landing had seen better days. The furniture was of good quality, though old-fashioned and heavy. However, there was an ambience about the house that gave it a welcoming feel…the feel of a home for many generations, he imagined. His own apartments above the gambling casino lacked any such feeling, and his apartments in the various hotels he owned were all impersonal. He had preferred it that way since his father died.
‘It is not quite what I expected, ma’am—but I can see that it would improve with a little money spent on it.’
‘Sadly, this is not the worst of it,’ Lady Sheldon told him with a wistful smile. ‘Hester loves the house, you know. I find it too large myself. One day I shall take a small house in Bath for myself.’ She shook her head. ‘Tell me, sir, do you find it too ancient…too big for comfort?’
‘I think it is too soon to pass judgement,’ Jared told her. He was actually pleasantly surprised for he had been expecting something rather like the empty, echoing, ruined palaces he had seen when he visited Venice. The house was large enough for a growing family, with ample room for guests, but of a size to be easily maintainable for a man with a reasonable fortune.
‘Yes, you are perfectly right.’ Lady Sheldon sighed. ‘I have wished that it might be possible to restore it for my daughter’s sake—and the duke’s, of course.’
‘You do not need to be anxious for my sake,’ Hester told her mother. ‘You know I have promised I shall come with you to Bath, Mama.’
‘Shall you, my love?’ Lady Sheldon’s slightly anxious air did not abate. ‘We must see what happens when the time comes.’ She glanced at the heir. ‘I dare say you might not wish to live here. If we only had the money, the London house could be opened again. It is more modern than this place and my husband always preferred it.’
Jared smiled at her, but did not reply. He was assessing the situation here as he followed his hostess up the stairs. She led them to a door at the far end and then paused, turning to look at them with that anxious expression in her eyes.
‘These are the duke’s apartments, sir. He refuses to leave them, though he says he shall for the ball—and they were not much damaged by the fire, though I am sure the smell remains.’ She dabbed a kerchief to her lips and the scent of lavender wafted on the air. ‘I shall not come in with you, Hester. Your grandfather is eager to talk to you and his heir. I shall make sure your rooms are ready and your bags are being unpacked.’
‘Would you mind asking the servants to leave my large trunk to me, ma’am?’ Jared asked.
‘Oh…Yes, of course, if you wish it,’ Lady Sheldon said. ‘Do you have the key with you?’
‘Yes,’ Jared said. ‘The small bag may be unpacked as I shall need to change later.’
‘I shall ask one of the maids to press your things,’ she said and wrinkled her brow. ‘I assure you the servants are to be trusted, sir.’
‘I did not doubt it for an instant, but I prefer to unpack for myself.’
Lady Sheldon nodded and turned away. It was most odd, but perhaps being American he had his own way of doing things. She would not dream of interfering; after all, he was the long-expected heir.
Hester knocked at the door of her grandfather’s apartments and was bidden to enter. They went into the comfortable sitting room, where a fire burned in the hearth despite the sun pouring in at the small windows. The duke sat in a high-backed wing chair near the fire. He had been getting out of bed for the past couple of days and was much recovered in health. His chair had been placed to face the window and it was possible to see a view of some trees, which were in full leaf and made a pleasant sight for a man who spent a great deal of his time tied to his chair these days.
‘Grandfather,’ she said and went over to him so that he did not have to turn his head to look at her. ‘How are you, dearest?’
‘Better for having you back,’ he muttered. ‘Well, have you got him here, girl? Will he do?’
‘Oh, yes, I believe so,’ Hester said. ‘But he is here, sir. You may see for yourself.’ She beckoned to Jared, who hesitated and then walked forward. ‘Grandfather, this is Mr Jared Clinton—or, as he will now be known, Viscount Sheldon.’
‘Good afternoon, sir,’ Jared said, offering his hand to the elderly gentleman sitting in his chair. His hair was white and thin, but his eyes were as blue as ever—as blue as his daughter’s and Jared’s own at that moment. ‘This is an unexpected pleasure. I did not imagine that I should ever be invited to my mother’s childhood home.’
‘Blame me for that, do you?’ The duke’s eyes met his in a challenge as they exchanged a brief handshake. ‘Think I treated her badly?’
‘I believe you had the right to be angry at first, but you might have relented later. Surely what she did was not so very terrible?’
‘I dare say you may be right,’ the duke said, his expression oddly like that of his grandson in that it gave nothing away, the blue eyes gleaming with suppressed emotion. ‘I might have done in time if—’
‘If she had not died?’ Jared raised his brows. ‘It was a tragedy for those who loved her.’
‘You think I didn’t?’ the duke said, a sudden bleak look on his face. ‘She broke my heart when she ran off with your father—he was a gambler and not her equal in any way.’
‘I think he knew that,’ Jared replied. ‘But he loved her. He did everything to please her, gave her all the things she ought to have had by right—but I do not think he could ever quite make that sadness leave her eyes.’
‘She wrote to me a few times…’
‘You returned her letters.’
‘I read them first,’ the duke said. ‘I wanted to know she was all right, but I couldn’t forgive her. I’m a stubborn man. I’ve wished many times that I had kept the letters. After she died…’ He shook his head. ‘No fool like an old fool, sir. I regretted that I had not written to her, told her…I loved her. She could have come home if she had wished. She must have known I wouldn’t turn her away.’
‘Would you have accepted my father?’ The two men glared at each other, a clash of wills as neither was ready to give way, and then the duke dropped his gaze.
‘No, I probably wouldn’t have welcomed him here. I never forgave him for taking my girl away from me.’
‘She loved him and he loved her. Do you not think that the proper reason for marriage?’
‘I married twice, neither of them for love, though I liked Amelia’s mother the best of the two. She was a good-natured woman—but Amelia was my favourite.’ He looked at Hester. ‘I’ve got my girl now, but it was a long time before I recovered from losing Amelia.’
‘I do not think she ever got over the hurt you inflicted in that quarrel before she left.’
‘Told you, did she?’ The duke put a
hand to his eyes, shielding them as though he couldn’t bear the younger man to see his pain, into his private thoughts. ‘I have regretted the things I said a thousand times. If I could have taken them back, I would.’
‘The spoken word is a dangerous weapon, sir. Use it unwisely and it may offer a fatal wound…and it can never be retracted once it is given.’
‘You are not as forgiving as your mother,’ the duke said, gazing up at him, eyes searching his face. ‘In her last letter she told me she had forgiven me. She said that she loved me…’ His voice broke and his hand trembled. ‘If I had written to her then…but I was too stubborn—a fool!’
‘Yes, you were.’
Jared’s statement was brutal, unforgiving. The duke looked for some softness, but found none.
‘Are you like your father? Was he as harsh as you?’
‘My mother told me I reminded her of you, sir.’
‘You like to punish,’ the duke said. ‘Yes, perhaps you are like me. I had hoped we might find some way we could deal together, but you hate me.’
‘No…’ Jared surprised himself as he spoke. ‘I am angry, but I do not hate you. You hurt my mother. I saw her crying after some letters came and she talked about you—but she wasn’t bitter. I shall not say that all is forgiven and forgotten, because it cannot be, but I see no reason why we should not deal honestly together, sir. Miss Sheldon has told me that you wish me to marry an heiress to restore the house and put some heart into the estate. As yet I cannot promise that I will do as you wish, but I shall stay for a while, and if Miss Sheldon finds me a suitable lady I will marry her.’
The duke stared at him in silence. ‘You’re an odd sort of fellow, sir. My lawyer did not think much of you, but you are not as bad as the picture he painted. We might be able to make something of you—what do you think, girl?’ He shot a fierce look at Hester.
‘Mr Clinton does not lack manners, sir. His clothes may need some refurbishment—’