"I hope not too good. There must be some time for enjoyment as well."
"I shall have that as soon as we get to Bath," he said with a warm smile. "And for the moment, as you have said, with the best of company, and the fun to be had with the rest of our visit.
"After breakfast, we can go to the shops, see Gareth Cavendish, then head on to the Jeromes. Then it will be back home to Ashton Manor for you. Clifford and Vanessa would be more than glad for us to remain longer, but if we're to get our adult reading lessons under way tomorrow, we'll need to go back and make a good start first thing tomorrow morning."
He reached over to take her hand briefly. "And before you begin worrying that you won't be up to it, let me just say that your modesty becomes you, my dear. But I'm certain you'll be up to the task. Now come, let's head back. I'll give you one last gallop."
She felt that familiar soaring sensation she experienced every time Jonathan touched her, looked at her in that long, close way of his. She told herself it was the joy of flying over the ground upon the back of the magnificent gray mare, but she felt it even standing on firm ground in a drawing room.
She noted that Jonathan rode as one with his horse, like a centaur. He did everything so well, she might almost think him as lofty as the Duke. He was certainly far better bred than the Earl of Ferncliffe. The vicar must have come from a very fine family indeed. She would need to make inquiries...
She pulled herself up short at the notion, and her horse as well.
"What, what is it?" Jonathan asked in alarm, pivoting around in his saddle when he realized she was not following him.
"I didn't want to tire the poor beast," she lied. "And it really is good manners to wait for Sarah and the others."
"Yes, quite. I'm so sorry." He peered into her face, and she gave a tight little smile.
She hoped her thoughts weren't reflected in her expression. Why was it that out of every single one of the many men she knew, the only one who fascinated her utterly was so far out of reach he might as well live on the dark side of the moon?
Chapter Thirteen
A long hot bath and a good hearty breakfast after their ride restored some of Pamela's equanimity, as did her knitting.
She tried to put all her romantic thoughts about the handsome vicar out of her mind. Jonathan was NOT for her. Not for her, nor any other woman. He had told her that several times already. She simply had to believe it from his own lips. Never mind what anyone else would say if they suspected she harbored warm feelings in her bosom for someone so unsuitable.
After breakfast, they squeezed into the Stones' carriage and headed to the shops in Brimley, where they bought a long list of items for the Rakehells at war, and for Gareth Cavendish and Samuel Jerome.
Then they headed over to the first man's home, and found him in and receiving guests. Pamela knew he was the youngest of the four sons, tall, dark, very distinguished, with a quiet manner, compared with his blond and raucous brothers, two of whom had been hanged as highwaymen a year before.
He seemed to take a great shine to Pamela, judging from the way he sat so closely to her. She was flattered and flustered.
"I'm very grateful for you taking an interest in my welfare," he said when she had explained about the package to Michael Avenel, and how she wished also to help him after he had told her he had no family who would concern themselves on his behalf whilst he was away.
"I have no sisters. It would be most kind of you if you could write, and give me news of the district. I always did love it here in Somerset, but alas, being a fourth son, I'm forced to make my own way in the world."
"Second now, though you will pardon me for mentioning it," she added quickly when he began to frown. "Surely someone so gentlemanly as yourself is not completely bereft of friends and family?"
He nodded, and relaxed against the back of the sofa. "My mother's people did much for me, educated me at Oxford. I worked very hard to make the most of the opportunity, and am now fully qualified as a lawyer and accountant. But they were all elderly, and I lost the last of them a year ago.
"So I'm on my own now, and shall have to make the best of my circumstances. It's difficult to get set up in a firm. It very much depends upon who you know. My brothers' actions have cast us all in the poorest light imaginable, as you may guess, Miss Ashton. So once I took my degrees, I enlisted. It's the best way to make a name for myself which will not be tainted by my relatives' misdeeds."
"I see. Very noble of you."
"Practical too, I'm afraid. I have to do what I can if I ever wish to provide for a wife and family one day."
"I am sure you're doing a disservice to your patriotism by saying that," she said with a kind smile.
"Perhaps. At any rate, the Army has trained me and have finally agreed to send me over. I leave for France in two days. I shall be more than glad to take your parcels when I go, and make sure they get into the right hands."
She beamed with delight. "Thank you. There are some things we have brought to thank you for your pains and help alleviate the hardships you're going to endure. The very best of luck to you. We hope we shall see you back here safely some time soon."
"Ah, but where to go after that, that is the question," he said with a sigh.
Pamela blinked in confusion. "Pardon?"
"Well, I hope to make the Army my career for some time. My eldest brother Edmund would forbid me the house if he knew I was here, I'm sorry to say. I haven't been welcome since my mother died. We're none of us compatible, you see. But with the death of my most kind uncle, I really have no other home but this, even if I am treated like a cuckoo in the nest."
Pamela stared at the dejected young man facing such an uncertain future. "That is most distressing to hear," she said sincerely. She paused for a moment and found herself offering, "You would be more than welcome at Ashton Manor when you do return home."
He stared at her in surprise.
Jonathan, sitting nearby, dropped his teacup and saucer, and immediately began to mutter under his breath as he tried to mop up the mess.
"I mean, I know it's not much for a man with your good breeding and education, but since my father died we've felt the lack of a good firm hand over our affairs. I do my best for little Bertie, of course, but our steward is old. And the solicitors are always in London, and can't possibly understand the estate so well as someone who is local and lives right here. Someone with both legal and accounting degrees.
"Please, when you return safely, as I'm sure you shall, do come to see me. The gate house is large and will be comfortable once it's given a good cleaning."
He looked almost appalled at the notion. "Miss Ashton, I never meant to imply--"
"No, I know you didn't. But what's the point of having money and a fine home if I can't help others?" she said with an airy wave.
She knew many people would frown upon what they saw as her encouraging the handsome young man, but she was not doing it for that reason, even though he was assuredly most attractive, night to Jonathan's day. It just seemed the right thing to do.
"It's far too generous of you, and your family--"
"Will listen to my recommendations," she said firmly. "They're hardly interested themselves. It's evident you love the land, love Somerset. My father did too. Until my stepbrother is old enough to appreciate the legacy he's been left, it's my duty and pleasure to maintain it for him. After all, I loved it long before he ever even came here. I too know what it's like to be at odds with my relatives, and feel dispossessed through an accident of birth."
She knew Aunt Susan would be livid if she could hear her now, but it was no less than the truth. She knew her father had remarried for her sake, or so he had thought. But her stepmother had never made any attempt to be more than civil to her, and had wasted no time at all in installing her son as the heir.
Because Bertie was a boy, her father had arranged matters around him even though she was the eldest and a child of his own blood. Jonathan was right, it was unfair. Jus
t as it was unfair that Gareth Cavendish was being cast out in the world alone, his reputation in tatters thanks to his wastrel eldest brother Edmund and his criminal brothers Charles and James. If she could help, she would.
She saw Vanessa smiling at her encouragingly, though everyone else was looking at her in stunned surprise.
"Thank you, Miss Ashton. It's more than I could have ever hoped for." He stretched out his hand and shook hers manfully, no fine drawing room manners in evidence.
She was relieved. All would be business between them, and friendship, but certainly not romance.
He chatted to her for a time longer about the estate, but there was none of the sly innuendo or flirtatiousness she received from the other men about the neighborhood. She enjoyed his lively mind, and was pleased with her impetuous decision, which had surprised even her until she had told herself to allow her instincts to guide her.
Now all she would have to do was tell her aunt and stepmother. But not quite yet. Not until Gareth came home from the war.
"Well, as I said, I shall be more than glad to write to you in the meantime, with news, and information about the estate and your new home. If you choose to accept the post, that is. You many change your mind. And I know it must pique your pride to take a situation from a woman, but--"
Gareth shook his sleek dark head. "A young man like me has no pride left, I'm afraid. It's a luxury I can ill afford."
"I'm sure not."
"I'm not perfect, Miss Ashton," he said in a lower tone. "I do have other sins, but I'm trying to be better. My father set us all a very poor example, and died wenching in the local tavern. You will have some idea, then, of the sins I seek to combat against. Thus far I am winning, but I did lapse for a time as a younger man. Though nothing that could ever compare with the scandal Edmund has caused."
Pamela blinked and felt herself blushing. She felt several pairs of eyes upon her. "Well, thank you for being so candid," she said, lest he think she was offended. "And let us hope you shall make a better end than he did."
Henry had caught the tail end of the conversation as he had passed by with his teacup for a refill. "I can think of a few worse ones," he said with a droll laugh.
"Henry!" Clifford said oppressively. "If you shock Miss Ashton again I shall have to scold you most severely."
"Oh, it's all right," she said, feeling her cheeks burning. "I have heard far worse."
"I hope you will find better company then, Miss Ashton," Jonathan asserted with a quelling look at Henry and Gareth.
He moved closer to her now, placing himself between she and Gareth as he stood to offer his hand.
"Forgive us, Mr. Cavendish, but we need to go over to see the Jeromes. Samuel is shipping out with his regiment as well this week."
"Ah, I dare say we shall be traveling down to Portsmouth together, then. Yes, of course you must be leaving. Very kind of you all to call. I'm so glad to have had the chance to see you all."
"And may I wish you the best of luck, and God's blessings upon you," Jonathan said as he shook hands.
His words were kind enough, but Jonathan stood toe to toe with the younger man. If Pamela didn't know better, she would have said he was trying to intimidate him.
"Let me just look over the parcels to Michael and Blake one more time," she suggested, in order to dispel the tense atmosphere.
"Indeed. Delighted to be of service. And thank you for the blessing, Mr. Deveril. Do take care, you and your delightful sister."
He bowed over Sarah's hand, then Vanessa's. He took his leave of Pamela with every show of polite but respectful regard.
Once they were safely out of the house Jonathan pulled Pamela's arm close to his side, so that she was pressed up against his outer thigh most intimately.
"Word of warning about him. He is said to be a rake, though not quite as bad as his father and siblings."
"I'm not interested in his talents in the boudoir. I simply need a good estate manager and steward," Pamela said with a toss of her head. "He's intelligent, well educated, energetic and knows the land. I'm in need of a good servant, and he's in need of a decent home with congenial companions."
"People will talk. What will your aunt say?"
She shrugged. "I don't care. You're the one who told me when my father was ill that there was no shame in asking for help from someone who was best able to give it. At the time you were talking about nursing him, a special skill. Gareth Cavendish has those skills. Accounting and legal skills. Why not ask him for help? And I shall have the satisfaction of being able to help him in return."
"You could have asked me," Jonathan said, trying to keep the hurt out of his tone. He wished he could rein himself in, but his feelings were galloping out of control even more rapidly than his mount had this morning, with no pulling them back. "If you have any difficulties, you can always come to me. I thought you knew that!"
Pamela stopped, allowing the others in their party to veer away. They were kind enough to pretend they were admiring the overgrown gardens, trying to give the quarreling couple some privacy.
She shook her head vehemently. "You already have helped me, Jonathan. So much more than I can ever say or thank you for. And you go to the assistance of everyone in the entire parish. I can't ask you for any more favors, or monopolize you."
"People will talk--"
"About Gareth working for my family? Or about you suddenly taking to running my estate? Regardless, one or the other of you will be labeled a fortune hunter, will you not?"
Jonathan looked as though he had been slapped. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt so angry. "You can't honestly think I would--"
"No!" she denied quickly. "I just meant that they will say it! You know they will. And you cannot afford to get yourself talked of. You're the vicar of this parish! And as I'm sure everyone in the district would agree, any connection between us would be deemed shockingly unsuitable," she added, testing him, though she was ashamed of herself for doing so.
She regretted the words as soon as she said them. His face looked as black as a thundercloud. For a moment his mouth worked up and down. For once in his life, the vicar seemed at a complete and utter loss as to what to say.
"Yes, quite. Most unsuitable," he gritted out, "for a man of the cloth to be led around by the nose by a shameless flirt."
Pamela began to protest in outrage, when he lifted her almost bodily into the carriage and crammed her into the far corner.
The other women scurried up quickly before matters grew any more heated between them.
Jonathan helped Sarah in next, then Josephine and Vanessa. He sat next to his sister on the same side of the carriage as Pamela so that she could not see his face or continue the argument that had suddenly erupted between them with all the force of a volcano.
What on earth had upset him so? She had assumed he would be pleased she was taking such an interest in Ashton Manor considering it was not even her own. Glad that she was being a good stepsister to young Bertie.
Pamela furiously told herself she didn't give a fig what he thought. He was not her keeper, and she would do as her conscience dictated, no matter what anyone said.
The 'shameless flirt' remark also rankled. She had meant that women of her social standing simply did not ally themselves with humble vicars, no matter how good the living or how ambitious the man might be. She was sorry if she had wounded his pride, but younger sons like Gareth could not be proud. Why should Jonathan be so peeved with her?
Chapter Fourteen
It was Pamela's turn to be peeved when they arrive at Jerome Manor and Jonathan was immediately taken over by the two youngest girls, Ellen and Georgina, two young blond beauties who she was relieved to discover were only fourteen and fifteen, though they looked much older.
They teased Jonathan, dug into his pockets for sweetmeats, and generally romped with him like a pair of frisky puppies. She looked at them with undisguised envy, wishing she had such an easy relationship with Jonathan.
&
nbsp; But then that would have been even more fuel for gossip. Besides, had he not invited her as his particular friend to both Stone Court and Bath? The girls were young, no threat to her at all. They obviously admired the handsome young man, but were far too immature. They were lovely, but no decent man would avail himself of such under-ripe fruit.
On the other hand, some men would like them simply because they were so young and innocent. Not to mention the fact that most men would want to marry well. Just because they were so young now was not to say there wasn't already an understanding between the families. A decade or more was often nothing between husband and wife in such arranged marriages.
Pamela was surprised at the intimacy. The Jeromes were certainly very wealthy. Why throw one of their beautiful daughters away on a mere clergyman? she wondered pettishly.
The Rakehell Regency Romance Series Boxed Set 1 Page 81