The next day, Eden was relieved when the train finally reached the village of Green Moss. She could barely contain her excitement at finally getting to see a real English country house. She laughed inwardly to think how jealous some of her schoolmates would be. They’d looked down on her because she came from Texas.
Patrick had been his usual cheerful self during the journey. Between the two of them, they’d struggled to keep Daphne entertained and distracted from her complaints about the crowded station, the heat, the noise, and the smell. The viscount kept saying how disappointed he was at having to leave London until the earl put an abrupt end to his complaints by saying they were leaving because he couldn’t afford to keep the house open any longer. Isabelle was telling Charlotte some of the things she’d like to do and see before they returned to America. Jake said he didn’t care as long as he didn’t have to dance.
Eden turned to Edward to find him staring at her in a vaguely unsettling way. It was as though he were watching, waiting for her to do something. Only Eden didn’t know what it might be.
“We don’t keep a lot of conveyances at Worlege,” Edward explained to Isabelle when it came time to leave the train. “I thought you might prefer to ride with my parents and the earl. Daphne and Eden can go in the open coach. Jake can ride with Patrick and me.”
“If I had known you were having horses brought, I’d have changed into my riding clothes,” Eden said.
“I’m not about to let you near a horse after you’ve been closed up in this train for hours,” Isabelle said. “You’d head cross-country and I don’t know when we’d see you again.”
“Okay, but Patrick has to take me for a ride before breakfast tomorrow.”
“If he manages to wake up,” Edward said.
“I don’t sleep late in the country. I hope your parents will join us,” Patrick offered gallantly.
“Jake might, but I don’t go near a horse unless I have to,” Isabelle declared.
The bustle of getting everybody and the luggage off the train and headed toward the various vehicles took up over a quarter of an hour. “How far is it to the house?” Jake asked once he was astride a heavily muscled bay.
“A little over six miles,” Edward said.
“I hope you’re not expecting me to prance alongside these carriages the whole distance. I’ll go crazy.”
“Ask Edward to ride with you,” Eden suggested. “Patrick can stay with us.” She thought Edward flinched at her suggestion, but she couldn’t be sure.
“Patrick can ride with your father,” Edward said. “It’s my duty to stay with Daphne.”
He could have said he wanted to stay with Daphne. Better still, he could have said he couldn’t bear to think of leaving her, but he’d said it was his duty. Eden didn’t know what Daphne had been taught to expect of her husband, but Eden was rapidly coming to the conclusion she could never marry an Englishman. She didn’t know what they used for blood, but she assumed it could be replaced by icy water and no one would know the difference.
“If you’re going to accompany us, you’ll have to stop scowling,” Eden said.
“I’m not scowling,” Edward protested.
“Call it what you want, but it’s a disapproving look.”
“I’ve been wondering if you had a toothache,” Patrick said.
“Are you still upset about having to go to the ball last night?” Daphne asked.
Edward had done his best to put all memory of that miserable evening out of his mind. Good manners had dictated that he dance with both Daphne and Eden, but the inadequacy of his performance had been underscored by the way Patrick whirled both women around the ballroom. It hadn’t helped when the viscount had very audibly commented on the contrast.
Edward was visibly annoyed. “I don’t have a toothache, and I’ve forgotten about the ball. I’m just not used to having so much company at Worlege.
“You’d better go join Eden’s father,” Edward said to Patrick. “From the set of his jaw, I expect him to head off down the road any minute. We don’t want him to get lost.”
“My father doesn’t get lost in the thousand miles of wilderness between his ranch and Santa Fe,” Eden said. “I doubt he’ll have any trouble on your estate.” She hadn’t meant to sound so abrupt, but she was tired of the belittling comments.
“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Edward said, “but it would be rude to abandon a guest at the train station.”
Eden wasn’t sure how the tenor of their conversation had become so strained, but she was relieved when Patrick wheeled his horse and rode off to join her father. The coach had already left. As their carriage pulled out of the station, men were still piling baggage into two wagons.
Any lingering tension disappeared quickly once the carriage left the station. Daphne seemed almost as bemused as Eden at the village of Green Moss.
The buildings were all built of stone and came right down to the street with almost no sidewalk. Chimneys rose high above the slate or tile roofs, with vents protruding in groups of three or more. The narrow street was cobblestone, which rattled the coach and caused sparks to fly from the horses’ shod hooves. A stream that ran through town was spanned by a stone bridge so narrow the sides nearly scraped the carriage. They had hardly entered the village before it ended abruptly and they were in the countryside.
Here, a smattering of stone cottages sat well apart from each other. Their front yards were fenced off by low stone walls or what looked like sticks woven together by wire to keep the livestock out. Small areas of grass were bisected by beds of rich, black dirt spilling over with a riot of blooming flowers. Beside or behind each house was a garden as neat as the yard. Rows of vegetables alternated with beds of herbs. Espaliered fruit trees and vines heavy with grapes were grown against the garden walls to protect them from the wind and to provide the benefit from the radiated heat during the night.
Livestock—cows, pigs, goats, or horses—were kept in pens and fields behind the houses. Even when they couldn’t be seen from the road, their presence was evident by smell.
Then there were the sheep. Eden didn’t think she’d ever seen so many. Low stone walls wound over the hills and down into the valleys, dividing the land into a patchwork of green. The river wended its quiet way through the crevices of the land, trees along the banks looking even taller because of their isolation. Eden hadn’t realized how few trees she’d seen until she rounded the shoulder of a hill and entered the cool shade of a forest.
“This is the home wood,” Edward explained. “It was much larger when my ancestors used it as a hunting ground. There are still a few deer in the wood. Some foxes and badgers, too.”
Eden was used to the trees in the Hill Country, but those were dwarfed by the size of the oaks and hemlocks that formed a thick canopy overhead. Birds called from the branches above. Nothing moved through the shadows but a pair of noisy squirrels more interested in chasing each other than in storing food for the winter. Eden had barely accustomed herself to the forest when they emerged from the shadows and into the bright sunlight. She would have thought the wide sweep of lawn that led up to Worlege would make the house look less overwhelming, but the house seemed to reduce everything around it to insignificance. The main block and the two connecting wings covered the whole of the hill on which they had been built. The soft grey stone glistened in the sunlight, the windows shone gold. She could see why Edward had been so eager to return to Worlege. The setting was magnificent, the near silence magical.
“Welcome to Worlege,” Edward said.
“It’s so large,” Eden said.
“The original house wasn’t this big,” Edward explained. “The earl’s older brother enlarged the house about fifty years ago. Nobody could figure why. He didn’t have any children, the present earl wasn’t married, and my grandfather had only one child. If Patrick and I fail to produce a male heir, the estate will go to distant relations. My father becomes apoplectic just thinking about it. He was greatly relieved when my mother g
ave birth to me after four miscarriages. It’s the private belief of half the village that he married a second time to have a spare.”
“You and Patrick appear to be very healthy,” Eden said. “I think the Davenport line is safe.”
As they drew closer, the house loomed so large, Eden could begin to understand how Edward could feel he was owned by Worlege instead of the other way around. The house sat on the hill like a magnificent queen on her throne, welcoming her subjects and accepting their homage.
As they proceeded up the carriage drive toward the house, Edward gave them a brief history of Worlege. The concept of remodeling and enlarging a house several times was new to Eden. In Texas, folks simply moved out of the first and built another one. In a rapidly changing place like Texas, it was hard to think of a house that had been around before the first English settlers came to America.
When they reached the manor house. Edward helped each of the women down, then escorted them up the few steps. Eden entered the main hall and came to an abrupt stop.
This was even more impressive than the London house. Marble columns rose to support a domed ceiling about forty feet above. A classical painting in soft but rich pastels covered the inside of the dome. Massive paintings hung on the walls between the columns. In front of them rose a staircase broad enough for six men to ascend abreast. Behind it a hallway running the length of the house gave access to the public rooms.
“We can wait in the drawing room until Mother or the housekeeper comes to show you to your rooms.”
Eden said, “I feel like I need a map so I won’t get lost.”
“It’s not that complicated. The housekeeper will be happy to answer your questions.”
“I can talk with her later,” Eden replied. “Patrick can show me the house for now.”
“No, he can’t.”
Chapter Five
Eden looked at Edward in shocked surprise. He’d been in an uncertain mood all day, but this abruptness wasn’t like him.
“I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.” Edward looked flustered. “Patrick is probably showing your father the stables. After that, Jake will want to see our breeding bulls. He may not be up to the house for some time.”
Eden didn’t know what was bothering Edward, but she was going to ask him point-blank as soon as she got a chance to talk to him alone.
“I’d be just as interested in seeing the stables and the breeding stock as Dad,” she said. “I work on the ranch, too.”
“You’ll have to forgive Edward,” Daphne said. “English ladies don’t work, so I’m sure he has trouble remembering that you do.”
It was clear from Daphne’s tone that Eden had slipped another notch in her estimation, but she refused to pretend to be something she wasn’t. “I help my mother in the house or ride out with Dad to take care of the cows.”
“I can’t imagine that.” Daphne’s smile implied no lady would.
“Then it’s fortunate you don’t have to,” Eden said, a sharp edge slipping into her voice. Rather than continue a conversation that could only be unflattering to both her and Daphne, Eden turned her attention to the house. She couldn’t understand why anyone would want three drawing rooms and two dining rooms. She did, however, begin to understand the cost of owning such a house.
“I didn’t know Worlege was so impressive,” Daphne said, her habitual hauteur less evident.
“Worlege is not large compared to some,” Edward said, “but it is roomy.”
Eden would have described it as barnlike, but that would have been misleading. She didn’t know anyone who owned a marble barn.
Edward could barely suppress a sigh of relief when the housekeeper came to escort Eden and Daphne to their rooms. He sank down onto a sofa and tried to calm his irritated nerves. Was he only imagining things, or was Eden taking every opportunity to be alone with Patrick? More to the point, why was he trying to prevent it? Patrick was a grown man able to take care of himself. Eden had made it plain she was going back to Texas, that she could never live in England. It was inconceivable that Patrick would live anywhere else.
So why couldn’t he ignore the situation and let it go away on its own?
There was no indication Patrick was in danger of falling in love with Eden. He showed more interest in Daphne, which was just as well. Since they would soon be members of the same family, it was important they be able to get along. Patrick would live at Worlege until he married. And unless he married an heiress, he’d probably live there for the rest of his life.
Eden showed a genuine fondness for Patrick, but it didn’t appear strong enough to turn into something more serious. Still, Texas women didn’t do anything like English women. How would Eden fall in love? What kind of man would appeal to her?
He would have to be a strong, confident person. Eden wouldn’t respect a man who let her run over him. But neither would she put up with a man who tried to dominate her. It would be a partnership. Edward had never thought of marriage as an equal partnership. As far as he knew, no one in England did. He wasn’t sure how an equal-partnership marriage was supposed to work, wasn’t sure it could work, but he liked Eden’s willingness to discuss anything with him, even argue with him, when she disagreed.
Then there was the matter of preparing food as well as working the ranch with her father. The wives of his tenant farmers were responsible for every aspect of the home, but they didn’t go into the fields to work alongside their husbands or participate in making the decisions about the farm or the stock. That was exclusively the privilege and responsibility of the husband. The lines of duty were clearly drawn and no one crossed them.
But Eden would. Rather, she would simply refuse to admit they existed. That would be impossible for Patrick to accept. He was English down to his core. Edward was, too, so why did Eden’s attitudes and behavior intrigue him rather than alienate him?
He was glad Eden was such an accomplished horsewoman. He was looking forward to engaging in a few spirited races. English women sometimes took part in fox hunts, but they never engaged in anything that could be interpreted as a competition with men. Would proper etiquette require that he let her win or that he never pass her? He wasn’t sure of that answer, but he was certain Eden wouldn’t accept such a solution. She’d want to win on her own merit or not at all.
He liked Eden’s spunkiness, her toughness, her refusal to consider anything off limits or beyond her abilities, her belief that she was the equal of anyone, even a man. At the same time, she was as pretty as any London debutante. Her dance card at the ball had been filled within minutes after he’d escorted her off the dance floor.
She had a feminine quality he found hard to define. All of his feelings about women—his ideas of what was feminine, what was beautiful, what was proper, what was desirable—had been drawn from women like Daphne, yet he found Eden more attractive, more appealing in that special way a woman is appealing to a man.
Edward groaned and got to his feet. All this thinking was giving him a headache. Besides, it was useless. Everything in his life had been laid out for him long before his birth. He wasn’t going to change English society, the people, or his role in it. It would be better for everyone if he stopped stalling, asked Daphne to marry him, and got on with his life. So why didn’t he? He didn’t want to believe Eden had anything to do with his continued resistance. Though he admired her and was attracted to her, he couldn’t imagine being married to such a woman. She would upset the balance of his life. It was better for everyone that she would soon go back to Texas.
Thinking of Texas caused his longing to escape the constraints of English society to flare up again. Eden was proof that the stories of the freedom of the American West weren’t exaggerated. If Eden could be allowed so much freedom, surely a man could do anything he wanted, be anything he wanted.
Determined to put all thoughts of Eden and of running off to America out of his mind, he left the drawing room and headed down the hall, intending to go to the stables. What he needed to
clear his head was a good gallop. But later, as he rode a powerful bay gelding down one of the farm lanes at a brisk canter, he couldn’t stop wondering about the man Eden would choose for her husband, and whether that man would be anything like himself.
“You’re an even better rider than I thought,” Edward said to Eden as they were walking from the stable to the house the next morning.
“Just because I beat you?” She couldn’t stop a laugh. The race across the recently cut meadow had been exhilarating. “Your horse was carrying about eighty pounds more than mine. I wouldn’t let getting beaten by a couple of lengths bend you out of shape.”
Edward was grinning from ear to ear, as they would say in Texas. Eden had always thought he was attractive, but he looked particularly handsome this morning. His clothes were well-worn, but they fit his muscled body like a glove. The wind had whipped his hair out of its carefully groomed shape while his eyes sparkled and his body radiated energy.
“I’m not upset,” Edward said with a laugh that backed up his words. “I can’t wait to tell Patrick a woman beat me on Crusader when he couldn’t.”
“Don’t you dare,” Eden replied. “I’m sure the poor boy has had enough of standing in your shadow.”
Edward’s expression softened. “Patrick never misses a chance to tell everyone how wonderful I am.”
“Well, I wouldn’t say you’re wonderful,” Eden said, a sly smile on her lips, “but you’re not too bad.”
“I’m surprised they haven’t run you out of Texas,” Edward said with a laugh. “You have a way of cutting a man down to size.”
That thought stopped Eden in her tracks. Was she so critical that men stayed away from her? She had begun to wonder why at twenty-one she hadn’t met a man she’d consider marrying. “I do expect a lot of men, but I’ve got some very fine examples in my family to measure them against.”
“Don’t worry.” Edward’s expression had become closed. “Even with your expectations, you’ll find lots of men eager to marry you.”
Texas Loving (The Cowboys) Page 6