Her aunt’s expression brightened. ‘And he’s once again unattached!’
‘Don’t look at me with that light in your eye!’ Theo warned. ‘For one, if Mr Ransleigh has just broken an engagement, he’s unlikely to start angling after some other female. Nor, having rejected a duke’s daughter, is he apt to consider anyone less lofty. I expect he came to the country to find space and time...especially if his circumstances have changed so drastically. So promise me, no hints from you about how superior my lineage and prospects are, despite my current situation.’
The very idea that Ransleigh might suspect she was trying to attach him made Theo feel ill. Patting her hand, Lady Amelia said, ‘Don’t upset yourself, my dear! I would never do anything to embarrass you.’
Theo relaxed a little—until her aunt gave her a smile Theo didn’t entirely trust before saying, ‘In any event, we’ve kept him waiting long enough. Shall we go in?’
* * *
A few moments later, Theo and Aunt Amelia entered the parlour. The warmth of Ransleigh’s smile as he rose to acknowledge them sent an immediate surge of response through her. Trying to curb it—and her dismay at how strong and involuntary a reaction it was—Theo made the necessary introductions.
‘Delighted to meet you, Lady Coghlane,’ Ransleigh said.
‘As I am to meet you, Mr Ransleigh. And may I add my thanks for your gallant service with the Dragoons? I can’t tell you how much better we all sleep, knowing that Napoleon is vanquished for good!’
Ransleigh inclined his head. ‘Doing my duty, as so many others did. My condolences on the loss of your brother, by the way. Too many good men fell at Waterloo.’
Her aunt’s eyes misted over. ‘Richard’s life was the army, but it’s been...difficult. Enough of that, now. By the way, I knew your late mother well—we came out together. A lovely, sweet girl, who became an elegant and much-admired lady. The carriage accident which claimed your parents’ lives was a sad day for all of us. Though it’s been years, you have my deepest sympathy. It’s not a loss from which one recovers easily.’
Ransleigh nodded. ‘I was fortunate to have my cousins and their families to help me bear it. So my mother was said to be elegant?’ He laughed and shook his head. ‘I remember her in a worn riding habit, mud on her boots and her windblown hair escaping from her bonnet. She was as hunting-mad as my father, at a time when ladies weren’t supposed to hunt.’
‘I seldom leave London, so I didn’t see her often after the family relocated to Upton Park. Which happened so long ago, as I told Theo, I’d forgotten Bildenstone was your primary estate. How are you finding it?’
‘After being away with the army for so many years, I’m just reacquainting myself with it. My grandfather did accumulate a superb library, which I’m enjoying.’
‘I understand my niece wishes to rent one of your buildings for her project. Though I applaud the tender feelings which inspire her, I have to admit, I have tried to talk her out of it. Such a weighty responsibility for someone so young, do you not agree?’
Theo threw her aunt an indignant look, to which that lady returned a bland smile. ‘Really, Aunt Amelia, delighted as I am that you journeyed here to welcome me back to England, I’ll not be so happy if you induce Mr Ransleigh to have second thoughts about allowing me to use his building!’
‘I, too, think establishing the school a laudable aim—if a bit unusual an undertaking for a gently born lady,’ Ransleigh said. ‘However, from my brief acquaintance with your niece, Lady Coghlane, I don’t think she’s likely to be dissuaded.’
Her aunt sighed. ‘She takes after her father in that—once she’s fixed a project in her head, there’s no dislodging it.’
‘Will you be staying to help her begin the school?’
‘Heavens, no! I have neither training nor inclination. As Theo said, I came only to welcome her to England. I’m too fond of London’s comforts to tarry long in the country. I have been trying to persuade her to visit me, perhaps for the rest of the Season.’ She gave Theo an arch look. ‘There are, after all, other laudable goals for a young lady to accomplish.’
‘If you’re hinting at marriage, Aunt, I’ve no intention of accomplishing that goal, as you well know,’ Theo said, irritated. ‘I’m happy in the country, and I fully expect the children to occupy all my time. That is—’ she looked over at Ransleigh as the dismaying thought suddenly occurred ‘—assuming you didn’t come here to tell me you intend to withdraw your permission to rent your building.’
‘No, I have not,’ Ransleigh replied. ‘Although I hope that won’t put me in your black books, Lady Coghlane.’
‘For the fondness I bore your mother, I shall try to forgive you,’ she said with a twinkle.
‘I am relieved! I should hate to offend my mother’s good friend. As for why I appeared on your doorstep, it’s such a fine morning for a drive, I decided to take your good advice, Miss Branwell, and get some fresh air. While pondering where I might drive, I recalled your invitation and thought perhaps I might meet the orphans whose school building I’ve agreed to lease to you.’
Surprised—and impressed, for how many young men would trouble to acquaint themselves with a group of children—and orphaned commoners at that?—Theo said, ‘I’m sure they would be delighted to meet you. Especially Jemmie, the oldest, who will have to be restrained from monopolising you, once he discovers you’re a soldier. I’ve already ordered a farm wagon brought up so I might drive them over to the building this morning. They’ve walked so often in the van of the supply wagons; the opportunity to ride in one is quite a treat. If you don’t mind including in your drive a stop at the stone barn, may I wait to introduce them until after we arrive? They will be much more attentive once the ride takes the edge off their exuberance.’
‘Of course. I brought my tilbury, Lady Coghlane. May I offer you a ride?’
‘That’s kind, Mr Ransleigh, but I will not be going. The prospect of a gaggle of children running about, shrieking at each other at the top of their lungs, does not appeal. As for the barn, Theo tells me it is presently unoccupied, needing a good deal of work before it will be fit for her purposes.’ Lady Coghlane shuddered. ‘Not a task I’d willingly undertake! I prefer my rooms already cleaned, polished, heated and well furnished before I enter them—preferably to find a comfortable couch upon which to sit, and a butler at the ready to bring refreshments.’
Theo laughed. ‘It’s good that Papa didn’t ask his sister to follow the drum, then. Shall you feel neglected if I leave you for a time?’
‘Certainly not, my dear. I have letters to write.’
‘I’ll bid you goodbye, then,’ Ransleigh said, making her a bow. ‘Once again, it was a pleasure to meet such a charming lady, and doubly so to meet a friend of my mother’s.’
‘Goodbye, Mr Ransleigh. Do call if you find yourself in town. I would be pleased to receive you in that comfortable parlour and offer some excellent refreshments!’
Ransleigh laughed. ‘I will certainly avail myself of your hospitality when I’m next in London.’ Turning to Theo, he said, ‘Shall I meet you and your charges at the barn, Miss Branwell?’
‘Yes. I’ll go collect them at once. Until later, Aunt Amelia. Let me escort you out, Mr Ransleigh.’
* * *
While they walked towards the entry door, Theo said, ‘As she told you, my aunt has been trying to dissuade me from establishing the school. Failing that, I suppose she hopes I’ll set it up and then turn it over to some good vicar to run, resuming my place as a proper English maiden.’
Her attraction to him, doubtless evident to a man of Ransleigh’s experience, made it even more important to her that Ransleigh understand her views on marriage. So, despite the embarrassment of discussing such a topic with an eligible bachelor, she forced herself to say, ‘Having no daughter of her own, Aunt Amelia always hoped Papa would ship m
e back to England so she might launch me into society and find me a husband. Neither Papa nor I were ever interested in accepting her kind offer, and with the school to establish, I certainly am not now.’
‘Are you so uninterested in marriage?’ Ransleigh asked, his tone curious.
‘Papa left me very well settled. Unlike most of my sex, I don’t have to marry for security or to have a place in the world.’
‘What of...companionship?’ he asked, his expression turning warmer.
Ah, companionship... With him standing at her shoulder, his gaze locked on her face, the physical pull between them intensified. Resisting the desire to step close enough to feel the heat of him up and down her sensitised body, she said, ‘I was once engaged, I believe I told you. Having already found—and lost—the love of my life, I don’t expect to find another. Nor would I even wish to. Losing Marshall w-was...’ Her voice breaking, she swallowed hard, unable to find words to express the shock, horror and desolation of learning that he’d been killed in battle.
They’d reached the stairs, giving her an excuse to wrest her gaze away from his. She took a deep breath to slow the pounding of her heart. ‘I’ll leave you here, and see you at the barn in half an hour?’
Tacitly accepting her retreat, he nodded. ‘Half an hour it is.’
Theo watched him walk away, then headed up the stairs to the nursery.
She hoped her avowals of uninterest in marriage had negated any little hints Aunt Amelia, drat her, had made about London and a maiden’s duty. She also hoped Ransleigh didn’t feel as strongly as she had the tingling connection that seemed to hum between them from the moment he’d entered the parlour. That had intensified as she walked beside him down the hallway, a tantalising hand’s breadth apart.
Only recalling the agony of losing the man she loved had broken its bewitching hold over her.
Alas, the immediate attraction she’d felt at their first encounter at Bildenstone, that she’d tried while riding home to convince herself had been a trick of the moment—an amalgam forged of an unexpected meeting with a like-minded soldier who also happened to be a handsome man—had resurfaced in full force upon their second meeting. Every instinct, reinforced by the innuendo in his tone when he mentioned companionship, told her he found her alluring, too.
She wrestled with that fact, finding it at once deliciously appealing and alarming.
Focus on the ‘alarming’ part, her sensible nature urged. If only she could, without having to arm herself against him by calling up painful memories she would rather keep buried. And she absolutely must submerge again the dangerous passion he seemed to call forth so readily from where she’d banished it after Marshall’s death.
Like putting the genie back in the bottle, the task was proving much harder than she’d anticipated.
She’d probably not see Ransleigh again after today. Surely she could restrain her inclinations for one more outing—with a bevy of children as chaperones!
Chapter Seven
As she’d expected, the children chorused their excited approval of a drive. Exuberant, Charles jumped up and down, clapping his hands in glee before delighting her with a kiss on her cheek. She gathered him close, drinking in the cherished feel of his small body nestled against her.
The ever-silent Maria merely nodded, but even the new children, Anna and Georgie, left off their guarded looks to smile at her.
She shepherded them downstairs to where a groom had pulled up the wagon. After helping Constancia settle the little ones in the back, Jemmie climbed up beside her, begging to handle the ribbons. Promising she would offer driving lessons on another occasion, when they did not have someone waiting on them, she took the reins and set the horses off.
* * *
A short while later, she pulled up the wagon in front of the stone building. Mr Ransleigh, already arrived in his tilbury, awaited them before the entrance. Just seeing him standing there sent an anticipatory shiver through her.
She tried to quell it while she helped the children down from the wagon—though, alas, she did not need to be looking at the man to be fully aware of his presence. Once they were safely disembarked, she said, ‘Mr Ransleigh, may I present Jemmie, Charles, Maria, Anna and Georgie. And this is Constancia Bracamonte, their nurse and my assistant.’
‘Pleased to meet you, children, Miss Bracamonte,’ Ransleigh said, inclining his head.
‘Mr Ransleigh owns this building, which as I told you, children, we plan to make into a home and school for you.’
Five young heads turned as one to look at it. ‘Seems sturdy enough,’ Jemmie said after a swift inspection.
‘Very sturdy—made of good stone. Why don’t you all go inside and have a peek?’
Charles, who’d been impatiently shifting from foot to foot after the introductions, needed no further invitation. ‘C’mon, Georgie, I’ll race you!’ Shaking his head, Jemmie loped off after them.
Anna looked at Theo, who nodded. ‘It’s quite safe. Maria, would you take Anna’s hand? Constancia will accompany you, too, so you will be all right.’
‘Come, meninas, I will see you take no harm.’ Beckoning the girls to follow, the maid walked them after the boys.
Theo turned back to Ransleigh. ‘Your colour is better this morning! I believe driving agrees with you.’
‘You may have the satisfaction of knowing you were right; I do feel better, getting out into the fresh air. Shall we walk towards the pasture while the young ones explore?’ He offered his arm.
She hesitated. Given his effect on her, it would be wiser not to accept—but it would seem rude to refuse. At the questioning lift of his brow, she capitulated, laying her fingers on his arm. Despite the layers of broadcloth and kidskin, she felt a connection sizzle between them.
She suppressed a sigh, torn between annoyance and letting herself, for the few more moments she’d have to spend with him, simply enjoy the delicious disturbance he created whenever he was near her.
‘So, tell me about your little group,’ he was saying. ‘Where did you find them?’
Glad that he’d invoked the children—the surest way to ground her—she said, ‘Jemmie, the oldest, is the son of Father’s sergeant-major, who was already with the regiment when we joined it in India. His mother died in childbirth—all too common an occurrence for English women in Calcutta, I’m afraid. The sergeant-major was killed by a sniper while directing the rear guard during the retreat to Corunna. Jemmie’s about twelve, we think, and more than ready to begin training for an occupation.’
‘Maria, the older girl with the sweet smile, is about seven. We found her at a convent after the Siege of Bajados, brought there with her dying mother, who’d been...abused by French soldiers. The sisters suspected Maria had witnessed the attack, for she’s never spoken, and is very shy around men—quite a disadvantage for a female travelling with an army! She grew to be easy with my father, and accepts Jemmie and Charles, but she prefers to stay close to me or Constancia.’
‘Anna and Georgie are the newest, just arrived from Belgium. I understand Anna’s mother died in Brussels right before Waterloo, and her father was killed in the battle, leaving the five-year-old orphaned. Georgie we found at the docks in Calais, as he was about to be turned over to a gendarme for filching a meat pie from one of the army provisioners. He’s about seven as well.’
Jemmie had approached them as Theo finished that last, and shook his head. ‘Still not sure it was such a good idea, taking in a thief, Miss Theo! The Colonel always said them that thieves small will thieve big, sooner or later.’
‘Which may be true for soldiers, but I don’t know that the rule applies to a starving child, Jemmie,’ Theo said.
Jemmie shrugged. ‘S’pose we’ll see. Right clever she was about nabbing him, though,’ he said, turning to address Ransleigh. ‘Fat pieman about had his thumbs ar
ound ol’ Georgie, hollering as how he’d stolen a pie and he was goin’ to turn him over to the provost. Miss Theo nips over, cool as you please, and spins him this faraddidle about how she’d sent Georgie to get pies for us, and how Georgie was naughty to make the man chase after him, rather than just buyin’ the pies from his stand.’ Jemmie chuckled. ‘The man just stood there, gogglin’ at her, cause he weren’t born yestiddy and knew as how she was bammin’ him, only when Miss Theo gets her “colonel’s daughter” agoin’, who’s to gainsay her?’
He turned back to face Ransleigh. ‘So you see, sir, Miss Theo kin look after herself, what with me to help out. And Miss Theo, though that building is sturdy enough to make a fine shelter if we wanted a billet, I don’t see why we need a school. I’m too old for one, Maria never lets out a peep, and Master Charles will be getting a tutor anyway, won’t he?’
‘That’s as may be, but remember, there will be more children coming to join us. All of you will need to learn your letters and a trade.’
The boy’s frown deepened. ‘Sure you got enough blunt to keep more army brats, after paying to rent that fancy manor house?’
‘You watch my money closer than I do,’ Theo said with a chuckle.
‘Don’t want you to run short,’ the boy said seriously. ‘Not afore I’m old enough to join the army, so’s I can earn enough coin to support us. I promised the Colonel before he died that I’d take care of you, and I mean to.’
‘I know you will,’ Theo replied, an ache in her throat as she looked at his earnest young face. There would be time later to argue over his desire for an army career—and its potential financial returns. ‘But to earn enough to take care of a family, one has to have schooling. You’ll like it, Jemmie.’
‘Mebbe,’ the boy conceded. ‘I’d rather watch out for the horses, like I did for the Colonel. I will be able to tend horses here, won’t I?’
The Rake to Reveal Her Page 7