James, Viscount Hildebrand, asked politely, “How is your son faring, ma’am?”
“Very well, thank you. William has reached the grand age of five, and considers himself quite grown and capable. It proves difficult to convince him otherwise.”
Sherbourne laughed right out loud. “Deuced tricky to raise sons, Lady Bonderant. I should know, having done so with these six lummoxes you see before you.” He beamed at his lummoxes, clearly mad for each of them. “Connie, m’wife, that is, up and left me when James was but eleven, and Jane a mere infant. I suppose a feminine hand was what was needed, but strangely enough, every female I brought on the place took one look at these rapscallions and immediately decided to leave.”
Robert, the youngest of the brothers, chuckled. “Don’t let him bamboozle you, ma’am. Sherbourne simply didn’t want any interference in his favorite pastimes of hunting and horse breeding, which surely a wife would pose.”
Lucy watched Sherbourne smile, intrigued by the faraway look in his blue eyes, and his wistful expression. “Not ashamed to admit, m’lady, I never found a wife who could replace Constance, and so I did the best I could with all these brats, and in the process, have grown into the crusty bachelor you see before you.”
She couldn’t resist a grin. “Sherbourne, I’d not describe you as crusty, just yet.”
He took a sip of his tea while holding the delicate china saucer in one long fingered hand. “Perhaps I’ve a few years left in me.” He set the saucer and cup aside and rested his elbows against the arms of his chair, steepling his fingers before him as he gazed at her. “Reckon we’re family now, in some manner, so I hope you won’t think me forward in offering my assistance to you in the event you’re ever in need. I know something of raising sons, and if there is a question of how to go on, I’d be honored to provide advice or help.” He nodded toward his own sons. “For all that they appear unlikable, in light of the fact they cannot find a woman who will have them, they didn’t turn out so badly.”
Lucy’s smile faded and she said seriously, “I believe you’ve done outstandingly well, my lord. Thank you very much for your kind offer. Don’t be surprised if I have the temerity to take you up on it.”
Their eyes met and it seemed to Lucy an understanding passed betwixt them. Ah, yes, he did indeed know what it was like to raise the child of one loved dearly, but no longer there to provide support and encouragement. The many lonely nights, the worry of going about things all wrong, the uncertainty of childrearing made doubly difficult due to no help at all.
“I don’t offer merely as a courtesy, and you shouldn’t hesitate if the need arises.”
“I won’t hesitate, Sherbourne.”
Julian stood and said, “What we need is a bit of entertainment.” He went to the pianoforte and began to play a lively tune –a Scottish highland song, it appeared. His brothers stood and went to stand close and join in. It didn’t take long for her to surmise it was a rollicking song of love and marriage, something undoubtedly sung after highland weddings.
It was delightful, for they harmonized and Bram beat a staccato rhythm with his palms against the gleaming wood of the pianoforte. Lucy was delighted, and laughed when they sang a line about the boy finally winning the bonnie lass by gifting her with a pair of sheep, a ewe and a ram, who stood up with them as they exchanged their vows, and provided many sheep in the years that followed.
She caught Sherbourne’s eye again and noted he didn’t appear to enjoy the song quite so much. He looked a trifle sad, actually.
The last of the song came about and she understood why. The bonnie lass went out to see about the ewe and the ram and her lovely herd of sheep, but never returned, taken by the ice and wind of a sudden, highland storm. Julian slowed the tempo and the song took a decidedly somber turn, ending with a warning to all bonnie lasses to love their husbands regardless of gift or fortune, for love was all important and eternal, and the other merely fleeting.
When the last note faded away, Lucy looked down at her hands and wished it hadn’t been so very sad. Her eyes had welled with tears and she was embarrassed. She blinked quickly and thought of Blix and Jane, determined not to be a damper.
Thankfully, Julian began another tune, this one about a lady in a loch, who tempted young men to their deaths with her siren song. Much like the wedding song, this one proposed a lesson, though Lucy was a bit at a loss why any young man would dive into a frigidly cold loch after a watery woman.
Sherbourne said evenly, “I see your confusion, and agree. If a young man is fool enough to go after a woman who lives in a lake, he damn well deserves to die. Never did comprehend this song, though it was one of Connie’s favorites.”
“Perhaps it’s a warning to avoid dangerous women?”
He shrugged. “Can’t see how falling for a dangerous woman would lead to death. I’d far rather consort with a lady of mystery than one of strict propriety.” He smiled at her most charmingly. “But that’s no doubt my age speaking. One does reach a level of maturity that finds all the pomp and circumstance a bit tiring.” He was not merely looking at her, but actually staring at her curiously. “How old are you?”
It was a rude question, for which he did not apologize. Lucy decided not to mind, for she suspected she was going to become friends with Sherbourne. There was something of a similarity between them and she found she rather liked him. “I’m four and twenty.” She blinked. “And you, sir? How old are you?”
“Fifty, just a month ago. Close to doddering, I expect.”
It was so ludicrous, she laughed. “Doddering, indeed! You’re a jokester, I see.” She nodded toward the brotherly choir in the far corner. “What a grand time you must have had, raising them. They provide tremendous entertainment. Julian is very accomplished.”
“True enough, it’s been a jolly ride, all these years, and you’re correct about Julian. I daresay poor Jane didn’t inherit her mother’s musical talent, but instead, took after me. I’m unable to carry a tune, was, in fact, asked to lower my voice at services. Seemed there was some concern the good Lord would leave the building if he heard my abuse of sacred hymns.”
Once again, she laughed. “Not quite that bad, surely.”
His blue eyes twinkled with good humor. “I’d demonstrate, but you’d no doubt run away, and that would be a shame.” He continued to stare at her. “Why do I not remember you being so animated four years past, when you hosted that house party?”
“It was but a few months past a year since I lost Bonderant. I was out of mourning, but still mourned. The notion of a house party was not my favorite, but Blix needed a wife, and I thought to do him a kindness.” Her eyes widened. “Oh, dear, I’ve wandered into a most awkward subject, which I regret.” She glanced at the tea cart. “May I pour you some more tea?”
“No, thank you, and you shouldn’t feel awkward, for all’s well that ends well, and I suspect Jane and Blixford may wind up with a dashed fine marriage, after all. Sometimes adversity isn’t a bad thing, wouldn’t you agree?”
Lucy gazed at him thoughtfully. “I believe it requires a great deal of distance to see what strength adversity may bring. In the midst of it, there seems no end in sight, no other manner of living than misery.”
The brothers began yet another song, and she realized she and Sherbourne were quite intimate, in a manner of speaking, with all the others disengaged from conversation. He kept his gaze on hers and asked quietly, “What of your life now? Do you still go about in misery?”
“No, I am actually quite content. I like living somewhat reclusively at Margrave Park, raising my son. There are neighbors, of course, so I’m not a true hermit. And Blix is very good about visiting. He’s been a great help to me with the estate, although by now I believe I’m perfectly capable.” She smiled fondly. “Far be it from me to say so, however. He does appear to take pleasure in looking after me.”
“But you feel you don’t require looking after?”
“Not from a business standpoint, no. On
the other hand, he is my only family, and we’re quite close, so I do look forward to his visits.”
Sherbourne appeared confused. “What of your aunt? Lady Reid?”
Lucy’s smile stayed in place, but it was not nearly so sincere as before. “Yes, Aunt Reid, my father’s sister.”
“You don’t consider her family?”
Lucy floundered about in her mind, seeking an answer. At long last, she said bluntly, “Not unless absolutely necessary, I regret to say. You may think me vulgar and unkind, but there it is.”
He was thoughtful before he said, “Never did mind one speaking the truth, and she is a difficult woman to like. She’s a few years older than me, but I remember her from my salad days as a young man about town. Remember she gave the cut direct to Constance and I wished she were a man so I could call her out.” He reached for his teacup, realized it was empty and handed it to her as he continued. “She’d married a marquess, a step down from her position as the daughter of a duke, but she carried herself as a princess, demanding respect, even from her peers. Constance was the daughter of a Scottish sheep farmer turned merchant, and far beneath Lady Reid, so when she was introduced to her, Lady Reid refused the introduction and gave her the cut. Connie didn’t care, but I was incensed and insulted on her behalf, as you can imagine.” He accepted the filled teacup with thanks, then settled back and asked, “Didn’t you and Blixford live with her for a time?”
Lucy decided to be honest, to avoid further discussion. “Yes, Sherbourne, we did. If you don’t mind, I’d prefer not to talk about Lady Reid. It’s certain to ruin my happiness of the day, and it is, for me, a very happy day.”
“Beg pardon, ma’am, of course it is a depressing subject, and you’re correct.” He sipped his tea and smiled again. “You’re pleased, then, that your brother has married Jane?”
“Oh, very happy, indeed. I thought she was the perfect bride for him the instant I met her and discovered her interests, as well as her personality. I believe they will suit marvelously.”
As though her words had conjured him, Blix came into the drawing room just then. Lucy was glad to see him smiling, and more glad when Sherbourne stood and welcomed him, as did Jane’s brothers. Miriam was not mentioned, and all appeared to be comfortable, the earlier tension having dissipated.
She was a bit surprised, however, to realize she was disappointed her conversation with Sherbourne was at an end. It had been a very long time since she felt the kinship of a new friend. It had been a much longer time that she’d felt any manner of attraction to a man, and that she did so with the Earl of Sherbourne seemed almost funny. Why, then, did she feel no urge to laugh? He truly was an impressive looking man, and quite a happy soul. She was undeniably drawn to him, and thus she explained her disappointment that their tête a tête was at an end.
It was just as well. As soon as she returned to Blix’s townhouse in Cavendish Square and packed, she would be en route to Margrave Park in nearby Sussex. She’d not brought William to London, since she was only to stay one night and did not wish to disrupt his routine. He’d been sad, but she assured him she would return the very next day. Because she was to go directly home, it would be impossible to pursue a new friendship, so she put it out of her mind and concentrated on speaking to Blix.
“You must write and let us know how things progress at Beckinsale House,” she said.
“Yes, do that,” Sherbourne agreed with a nod. “I’m curious to know the advancement of your breeding program.”
Blix agreed to write and winked at her, signaling he would not write much, because he would, after all, be on his honeymoon.
Lucy blushed, and Blix looked toward Sherbourne. “Jane’s taken it into her head she’d prefer to ride, so she’s changing into her habit, and I’ve asked your head groom to saddle Grendel. I hope this is acceptable?”
“Of course! You’ll make better time on horseback, and with this exceptional weather, it’d be a shame to be cooped up in a traveling coach, would it not?”
“Yes, I had much the same thought.” He glanced down at his formal attire before he looked to Lucy. “If you’re ready to go, we’ll take you up in my carriage. I’ll have to stop by the house to change and saddle my own mount for the trip.”
From a distance, she recalled her wedding day. Matthew had bedded her just after their wedding breakfast, in the first inn they passed on their way to Margrave Park. He’d said he could not, would not wait, and she had felt the same. How lovely it had been, how patient and kind he was.
How awkward it would have been if anyone had been with them. Perhaps Blix had another agenda during his stopover at home. She would be in the way, and feel decidedly uncomfortable. Blushing furiously, she managed to say, “Actually, if you don’t mind, I believe I’ll stay here a while longer. Sherbourne’s offered to show me his conservatory and a new, exotic plant he’s obtained. I’m certain he or one of Jane’s brothers won’t mind escorting me home.” She turned a smile toward Sherbourne, who took the cue without missing a beat.
“I’d be delighted, Lady Bonderant, and I’m honored you’ll stay and allow me to boast of my acquisition.”
She couldn’t be certain, but she thought Blix looked relieved. He came close and kissed her cheek before stepping back to shake Sherbourne’s hand.
Jane came in then, dressed in a beautiful habit of gold velvet, with braided cording around the waist. Her bountiful bosom wasn’t overly exposed, but one could see the soft swell of pale skin above the neckline, and Lucy felt a moment’s envy. She’d not been gifted with lovely, round breasts. Hers were less than round, and her nipples, rather than a soft, pretty pink, were the color of earth, a dusky brown. Matthew hadn’t seemed to mind, but she always felt a bit self-conscious about them.
She kissed Jane goodbye, as did all of her family, and within moments, the newlyweds were gone.
Jane’s brothers were not far behind, each of them making their excuses to leave, undoubtedly in pursuit of some entertainment for the remainder of the day. They were all very jovial as they bade her farewell, and James offered to wait and escort her home, but Sherbourne told him to go on along, that he would see to her safe transportation.
“Well,” he said when the room was empty, “it appears all that remain are the settled folk.” He offered his arm. “Shall we take a stroll through the conservatory, Lady Bonderant? I happen to have something of interest to show you.”
She chuckled and laid her hand upon his arm. “You’re a dashing good sport, Sherbourne. Quick on your feet as well.”
“That I am.” He smiled down at her. “It would appear I’m not into my senility as yet.”
They made their way down the stairs and circled back toward the garden door, but turned to the left before reaching it and stepped inside the conservatory. It was not so large as hers, but then, this was a townhouse, and Margrave Park was an extensive estate house.
Nevertheless, what it lacked in size was made up for by an exotic array of unusual flora. They strolled along the path that wound in and around the foliage and he pointed out some of the more unique specimens. He stopped when they came upon an extraordinary lily, a lovely delicate bloom, the color of sunset. “A friend of mine brought this to me from India. It’s said to have magical powers that confer eternal youth and beauty to all who inhale its fragrance.”
“Do you believe it?”
“Complete claptrap.” He smiled another of his twinkling smiles at her. “Nevertheless, I make it a habit of a morning to come in and take a good sniff, just in case there’s any truth to it.”
Lucy laughed, truly enjoying herself. “Perhaps there is. You’ve the vitality of a man half your age.”
He sobered a bit and continued to escort her through the indoor garden. “One tends to consider his mortality as he ages, and I have to confess I’m much more comfortable with life now than I was at twenty-five. I was happily married, with several children already, but still in the throes of proving myself.” He glanced at her. “Young men f
eel the need to do so, you know.”
“Yes, I know.”
“It bears remembering as your William grows up. There will come a time when he’ll want to do something you either don’t approve of, or that frightens you because his life and limb may be at risk. The difficulty in raising children, ma’am, is letting them go.” He waved his arm, indicating the house. “I’m fortunate that my children visit often, but it’s very different now that none of them actually live with me.”
“You’re lonely?”
“Occasionally.” He patted her hand on his arm. “I like you very much, Lady Bonderant. ‘Tis a shame you must go home directly, for I’d enjoy furthering our friendship. And I believe we are becoming friends, are we not?”
“Oh, yes, quite. I’ve taken a liking to you, as well.” She looked up at him. “Perhaps our budding friendship will forgive my rudeness, but I’m terribly curious to know why you never remarried. Is it truly because you did not want a wife who might interfere with your pastimes?”
He slowed and stopped at a low bench, handing her down to it while he stood by and propped one boot upon the seat, bending to rest his forearms across his knee. “I didn’t find another wife for what I suspect are your reasons for not finding a new husband.” His gaze was solemn on hers. “Time has a way of fading memories, and I won’t pretend I live each day in the past, or that I still mourn. But in the beginning, I certainly did, and had no interest in another marriage, for I knew no other could compare. It wouldn’t be fair to any woman to hold her to such a standard. I’m uncertain dear Connie could have held up to my memory of her, if you see what I mean.”
“Oh, yes. Bonderant has become quite saintly in death.”
“By the time I was past miserable and beginning to feel more the thing, my children required a great deal of my attention, and I became somewhat obsessed with my horse breeding program. Years slipped past and it became less and less a matter of necessity to remarry. I did fine on my own, I thought. Looking back, however, I realize I missed the opportunity to build a satisfying relationship with someone. I now face the prospect of growing old alone, and it’s not appealing in the slightest.”
The Last Duchess (The Lennox Series) Page 12