by Julia Donner
THE RAKE AND THE BISHOP’S DAUGHTER
Chapter 1
Cavendish Square, London, England Early Summer 1819
“I wish you wouldn’t run away, Harry.”
Lying on his back on a blanket spread across the grass on a soft summer day, Sir Harry Collyns looked up at Lady Asterly, who reclined on a nearby chaise lounge wearing a glower.
“Nothing else for it, Lizzie.”
Sunlight peaked through the tree leaves of the towering oak. Bright dots flickered over her disgruntled moue, which made him laugh. It sounded forced, mainly because he didn’t want to talk about why he planned to leave. Disappointment and concern clouded her expressive hazel eyes. He didn’t much like it when she did that. It hurt as much as it made him feel guilty.
In an attempt to change the prickly subject, he said, “It’s been two years and I’m still trying to figure out how my brother managed to catch you. You’re too rich and intelligent for him. The only sensible conclusion to that statement is that you would’ve been much better off marrying me.”
“Stuff and nonsense! You know compliments won’t work with me and I’ll not let you use them to avoid this issue. Fleeing at the height of this scandal will only make matters worse.”
“Where are my little devils? You promised to let me see them before I left.”
As if in answer to his demand, the garden door opened. A plump nurse and a freckled maid carried two, chubby toddlers. Harry hoisted up onto an elbow. The twins noticed. One started squealing and the other unplugged two fingers from her mouth. Mirror images of each other, the babes had to be identified while clothed. The girl’s lacy lawn dress had a pink sash and leading strings. The boy’s were black.
The toddlers nearly sprang from the women’s arms and into Harry’s. They crawled over him, drooling, giggling and pulling his hair. He fell back on the blanket, his arms full of babies and cheeks wet from slobbery kisses.
Lady Asterly dryly remarked, “I guess that proves the extent of my worth when you’re around.” She leaned over to untie the leading strings and extended the long ribbons to the servants. “He won’t want these.”
“My lady,” the nurse began in a warning tone, “they’re in a bit of a mood today.”
Lady Asterly smiled. “They are always in a mood to make mischief. Please, have your luncheon.”
The nurse handed over a serviette folded around lumpy contents. “Very good, my lady. Here’s something to keep them occupied.”
After the pair of women curtsied and went inside, Lady Asterly said, “You’ve never let scandal bother you before this. You’ve always seemed to revel in the commotions made about you.”
“All part of being an arbiter, Sis. Gossip is bound to happen.”
“Harry,” she depressingly began, “it would help if you didn’t have three mistresses and delight in tricking yourself out in the most outrageous clothes.”
“All part of the game, love. Ow! I say, Harriet, you little fiend, stop that.”
He pried his niece’s fingers from the grip she had on his hair. Her fingers came way with golden strands. He tickle-chewed Harriet’s pudgy palm, which made her shriek with laughter. Her twin brother, Harald, also his namesake, plopped his bottom on his booted ankle, clutched the Hessian’s tassel, and bounced up and down, demanding a ride.
Harry reached down with his free hand and grabbed a handful of the back of Harald’s gown. Lifting him close, he growled into the toddler’s neck. The boy squealed with joy and shoved away to throw his arms around his sister. Harry rolled to his side, tumbling the pair across the blanket.
Propping his head on his cupped palm, Harry watched them wrestle and babble a language only they understood. “Lud, but I love the sweet way babies smell.”
“Then get married and have some of your own.” Lady Asterly unfolded the cloth and handed each child a hard biscuit. Pacified, the twins gnawed in silence.
Harry grabbed one before she set it aside and rolled onto his back. He looked up through the tree leaves while savoring the loud crunching noises inside his head. If only life could be as simple as lying on the grass, savoring a ginger biscuit and the peace of a lovely day.
“Harry, why did you do it? Why pose for that woman? And what were you thinking to do
it without clothes?”
“I wasn’t in the altogether. Just in my smalls. She made up the rest.”
Lady Asterly’s complexion turned rosy. “Harry! You’re incorrigible!”
“Of course I am. That’s why you love me and desperately need me for balance. Must be tedious, being hitched to a stodgy fellow like my brother.”
“He isn’t the least bit stodgy!”
Sending her a naughty grin, Harry said, “Isn’t he? What reassuring news.”
“Stop behaving dreadful on purpose. Perhaps you’d change your mind about leaving if I told you that soon the statue will no longer be on exhibition.”
“Why, Lizzie, you sound rather feline and satisfied. Bought it, did you? I thought Johanna refused all offers.”
Looking smug, Lady Asterly replied, “Most people have a price. I am sure she created this commotion to increase its value.”
“So you’re saying that only reason you bought it was to quiet the mob?”
“Harry, it was indeed a mob. Lines went on for blocks to pay the admission. There were scuffles and arguments among those standing on line. It had to stop.”
“So you bought it.”
“I did, and now there is no reason for you to flee, unless you would like to come with us. We leave for Far Reach Wednesday week.”
Harry sat up and brushed crumbs from his fingertips. “Perhaps later in the summer. I’ve been away from Rolands too long.”
Harriet crawled into his lap and rubbed her messy mouth on his coat sleeve. He smiled down at her snarled, blond curls, as Lady Asterly sadly said, “Why do you do the things you do, Harry? It really isn’t you. Not really. I doubt anyone would believe me if I told them the famous Handsome Harry rolled on the ground with my children and let my daughter clean her face on your coat.”
The children made grumpy noises when he stood. After kissing his sister-by-marriage on the cheek, he said, “Why spoil their fun? Let them think what they like. I’ve never cared and that’s the only reason they’re fascinated.”
He looked down into her troubled gaze. When she started to say something, then stopped the words with a shake of her head, he said, “I’ll tell Crimm to send someone out to help you with my little devils. Feed them biscuits until the second wave arrives to hold back our tiny horde.”
“Drive with care for once, Harry!” she called as he strode toward the garden door.
“Always do, love. See you in a few months.”
As he drove north to Rolands, he revisited the reasons why he felt anxious to leave London. He was also glad he hadn’t told Lady Asterly he’d be driving a pair of half-trained chestnuts. Expecting trouble from the headstrong team, he’d sent his valet ahead in the chaise with his luggage. Twice, he’d had to direct the curricle away from the traffic on the main road and down a country lane for schooling, all the while chastising himself for forgetting to tell the grooms not to feed the young geldings grain for a few days prior to the trip.
That’s what comes from allowing distraction to take over one’s life. Again, the gnawing question of purpose. What earthly good could come of acting the fool, making a game to manipulate those not worth his time and effort? How long could one keep up the pretense of happiness?
When the horses had lost some of their feistiness with a gallop down the lane and back again to the main road, he held them to a trot that allowed conveyances moving faster to pass. The team didn’t like it and tossed their heads and leaned into the bits when they couldn’t give chase. In retaliation for being held in check, the horses tried to shy at a sedate couple walking their mounts. He couldn’t be sure, because his eyes were strained and blurring, but he thought he’d passed them earlier, riding from the other
direction. He nodded his head in greeting as he passed, resolved to learning what could be done with his eyesight getting worse for distances. Hard to believe he was on the downhill slide to forty. He couldn’t imagine giving up driving.
Lowering the reins a bit, he allowed the team into what he hoped would be a sedate canter. At the same moment, a gust of wind bounced an object across the road. Both horses tried to bolt from the fluttering ribbons of a lady’s hat, which unexpectedly leaped up and struck the most fractious of the pair directly in the face. The gelding reared while the other lunged to one side.
A loud snap sounded the break of something vital then he was sailing through the air and into a hedgerow, tumbling down to land on his side. The last thing he heard was a woman’s voice calming the horses. Fear for her rushed through him at the thought of the physical damage a slashing hoof could do, then the world went black.