Inconvenient Affair

by Kruger, Mary

  “No. But I do want to visit my team for a moment. I’ve brought sugar for them.” Reaching into the pocket of her skirt, she brought out several lumps of sugar. “I think they deserve a treat, don’t you?”

  “I suppose.” Gillian’s steps slowed as they passed under the archway leading to the stable yard. “May I stay here?”

  “Of course.” Smiling, Thea left Gillian in the care of a groom, and went inside. It would not be easy to break through Gillian’s fear, she conceded reluctantly as she stopped at her horses’ stalls, petting each one and feeding them the sugar. Whatever it was that caused it ran deep and strong. Thea only hoped she could deal with it, more for Gillian’s sake than for any desire to see her mounted on horseback. She was, she found with just a little surprise, as concerned about this little girl as she would be about her own child.

  Gillian brightened once they left the stables, and by the time they reached the shore was laughing and chattering as if she’d never been frightened. Thea dutifully admired Jeremy’s boat, and then steered the girl back toward the house. “Time for your lessons, kitten,” she said, as they walked toward the door, gravel crunching beneath their feet.

  “Couldn’t you ask Daddy to take us sailing and let me miss lessons just for today? Please?”

  “Not today, poppet,” Jeremy said, coming out and standing on the top step. “Been showing Mrs. Jameson around?”

  “Yes.” She threw herself at him. “Oh, Daddy, I went to see Snowball this morning. Couldn’t I keep him in the house? Please? He’s such a pretty kitten. I’ll keep him in my room, I promise.”

  “I’m afraid not, poppet.” He smiled down at her to soften the refusal, his hand resting briefly on her head. “Now run along and find Miss Moffett. You’re late for your lessons.”

  “Yes, Daddy.” Gillian took a few steps, and then suddenly ran back to Thea, hurtling herself into her arms. “I’m glad you’re here. Will you stay for a long, long time?”

  Thea’s eyes misted over, but not before she saw Jeremy give her a startled look. “As long as I can, kitten,” she said. Forever, if she could. She wanted, with sudden ferocity, to be this little girl’s mother. “Go along, now. Miss Moffett is waiting.” She patted Gillian on the back and the little girl turned, skipping into the house.

  Jeremy watched her, an abstracted look on his face, and then turned. “You’ve done wonders for her already, Thea,” he commented, going down the remaining stairs.

  “Yes, but it won’t be easy.” Thea fell into step beside him. The constraint was back. It was there in his eyes, in her awareness of him. She wished he’d touch her. She was glad he hadn’t, for she didn’t know how she would react. Gillian, thank heavens, was common ground for them. “She’s so frightened she wouldn’t even come into the stables with me. Jeremy, was she ever thrown from a horse?”

  “No, not so far as I know. She’s hardly been on the back of one enough.”

  “So I thought. But something’s frightened her.”

  “Can’t you ask her?”

  “I don’t believe she’d tell me.” She stopped, taking a deep breath of the salt-scented air. “I do like your home, Jeremy.”

  “I’m glad. Evadne doesn’t.”

  “No? Why not?”

  “She thinks it’s small and poky. She much prefers my Berkshire estate.”

  “But it’s not poky at all! It’s cozy and homey.”

  “Yes, well, Evadne’s already talking about changing things.”

  Thea opened her mouth to speak, and then closed it again. No. Now was not the time to say anything to him. She would have to, soon, though. Wasn’t that why she had come here? “I’d like to ride, Jeremy,” she said, lightly.

  Jeremy smiled. “Then you shall,” he said, and they set off, companionable and comfortable, toward the stables.

  Evadne was not happy with recent events. Riding her horse up the hill, away from the sea she hated so much, she brooded and puzzled over what had gone wrong with all her fine plans. When she had imagined life with her betrothed, it had been so much different. She had seen herself as mistress of Stanton’s estate in Berkshire, with an adoring husband bowing to her every whim and her mother acknowledging her as the leading lady of the neighborhood. The reality was far different. Stanton actually seemed to prefer this poky old house, small and unpretentious though it was, and nothing she had said had swayed him. At first, he had laughed when she had pouted and cajoled; now he merely refused. Not at all the ardent lover she had imagined. How could she have ever believed him handsome? He was too dark. Lately she had found herself fascinated by another type of man altogether, a tall, lean man with fair hair and patrician features, though that did her little good. She was betrothed to Stanton, and she could see no way to free herself.

  It would be so much better if he just paid some attention to her. Instead, he cared more about his daughter, plain though she was. And pert! Evadne would not countenance such behavior from any child, though she had learned not to criticize Gillian to Stanton. How anyone could be so fond of children, she didn’t know. She would have to have at least one child, to provide her husband with an heir, but she intended to have as little as possible to do with that child’s upbringing.

  The worst that had happened, though, the unforgivable insult, was Stanton’s bringing his mistress here. Everything had changed since Thea’s arrival. Stanton no longer even pretended to care about what Evadne wanted, or to change his schedule to suit her. Instead, he spent a good deal of time with Thea, discussing Gillian, riding, or sailing on that miserable boat of his. Thea had no right, coming in and taking over as she had. She was not to be mistress of this house. Evadne was. It was high time she did something about that.

  At the top of the hill that rose from the sea she stopped, leaning over to pat her mount on the neck. “Good girl,” she crooned, contrite that her fast riding had winded the mare. Stanton kept a good stable, she’d say that for him. She didn’t think as much of his groom, who had not wanted to saddle this horse for her if she were riding alone. Evadne had had to be very firm with him, and at last he had given in. She’d have to do something about him, too. “We didn’t need that nasty groom with us after all, did we?”

  The horse nickered in reply, and an answering nicker came from ahead. Startled, Evadne looked up as a man, his thick, dark hair blowing in the wind, emerged from the trees, riding a chestnut hack that to her trained eyes had seen better days. Even in her winded state her mount could outrun such poor competition, she was thinking, when the man raised his hand in greeting, and she realized it was Roger DeVilliers.

  Surprise held her still for a moment, and then a kind of elation filled her. Here was a man who had always seemed to appreciate her. Here was someone who could possibly be helpful. “Mr. DeVilliers!” she exclaimed, urging her mount forward. “Why, what a surprise. Are you come to visit Stanton?”

  “Is this Stanton land?” he asked in apparent surprise, belied by the way he looked at her.

  She batted her eyelashes at him. “Why, yeth, it ith.”

  “So it is. And Stanton lets you ride alone?”

  “He’s not my keeper, sir!” she said, tossing her head.

  “More fool he.” He reached for her hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss on her wrist. It took all of Evadne’s willpower not to snatch her hand away. “Are things not going well between you?”

  “Of course.” She tossed her head. “Though I wonder if I made a mistake, choosing him.” She batted her lashes again. “But what do you here, sir?”

  Roger smiled, elated. So, as he had hoped, all was not well with Stanton and his fiancée. Excellent. “But I thought you were happy with him. After all, has he not a title?”

  Evadne shrugged as she turned her horse to walk with his, her discontent evident. “He is not what I expected, sir. He scolds me! And he has brought his mistress here.”

  That did surprise him. “Surely not!”

  “Oh, yes. Mrs. Jameson.” Her voice was bitter.
“He claims she is here to teach his daughter to ride, but I cannot believe it. I am not a child.”

  “I can see that,” he said, letting his eyes linger on her, and spots of pink appeared on her cheeks. “It sounds most uncomfortable, Evadne. I may call you that?”

  Her cheeks turned pinker. “Of course.”

  “I must go. Stanton would not be pleased were he to learn I’d trespassed on his land. But, my dear Evadne, you must allow me to help you in some way.”

  Evadne’s eyes widened. “How, sir?”

  “However you desire. Shall we meet here again? Tomorrow at about the same time, perhaps?”

  “I’m not sure that is wise, sir.”

  “Let me help you, Evadne. It pains me to see you so unhappy.”

  “Oh, sir, if only you know how good it feels to hear someone talk like that!” She held out her hand to him. “I would be motht glad of your help, thir.”

  “Then you shall have it.” He pressed another kiss to her wrist and then wheeled away.

  Evadne watched him for a moment and then turned herself, returning to the stables in vastly better spirits. Stanton would see, she thought. She’d show him, him and Francis Thorne, too. They’d learn not to cross her.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Jeremy,” Thea called as she came down the stairs the next morning. “Have you a moment?”

  Jeremy, standing by the door, turned. “Not just now, Thea. I have to see one of my tenants about something.”

  “Oh.” Thea crossed to him, ignoring the impatient way he shifted from one foot to another. What she had to say to him was important and could not be put off much longer. Already she had been here several days, and she hadn’t told him her news. “I need to talk to you about something.”

  “About Gillian?”

  “No, something else. But it can wait.” She wasn’t about to tell him now, while he was so obviously eager to be off. “When you come back?”

  “This afternoon, after luncheon. Is that acceptable?”

  “Fine.” Thea followed him out onto the drive, where a groom stood, holding Lightning. “I had a letter from my brother, by the way. He has some questions about the stud and he’s going to come here for a few days. If that’s all right with you.”

  “Of course.” Jeremy leaped into the saddle, and Lightning, catching his impatience, danced a few steps. “I like your brother. I’ll see you at luncheon, Thea.”

  “Yes, Jeremy.” Thea stepped back and watched him gallop down the drive. That was Jeremy, taking everything at full speed. She wondered how he would react when she told him her news.

  “Thea,” a voice said to her right, and she turned to see Gillian. “Is he gone?”

  “Yes, quite.” Thea held her hand out to the little girl. “Didn’t you want to see your father?”

  “I don’t like his horse.” Gillian smiled trustingly up at her. “I went to the kitchen to see Snowball,” she went on, linking her hand with Thea’s. “May we walk down to the beach?”

  “Of course.” Their daily walks had become a ritual each enjoyed. “I’d like to stop at the stables first.”

  “All right,” Gillian said, if reluctantly, and Thea reflected that she’d made some progress. Gillian’s fear of horses hadn’t abated, but in the last few days Thea had managed to coax her into going into the stables. That the child still kept her distance wasn’t as important as the trust growing between them, which was why Thea allowed Gillian to use her name, much to Mrs. Powell’s disapproval. “Are you going to check on your horses?”

  “No, I want to see old Polly. I’ve an apple for her. Follett thinks she won’t be with us much longer, poor old thing.”

  “My mother used to ride Polly,” Gillian volunteered, and Thea took a quick look at her. Gillian rarely talked about her mother. “But she didn’t like her.”

  “No?”

  “She said Polly was too slow. She liked fast horses.” Gillian fell quiet, her eyes blinking rapidly, and Thea thought it better not to comment.

  “Well. Here we are. I’ll just give Polly her apple, and we may go to the beach. Hello, old girl.” Thea stopped in front of Polly’s stall and the horse, an old piebald, loped over, snuffling at Thea’s hand. “How are you today, girl?”

  “Her teeth are awfully big,” Gillian commented, watching as Thea fed the horse the apple.

  “Well, horses are big animals. Yes, you’re a good girl,” Thea said, stroking the horse’s nose. “Your nose feels like velvet.”

  “May I feel?”

  Thea turned in surprise. “Of course,” she said, managing to keep her voice normal. “Here, bring that stool over and you may stand on it. There. What do you think?”

  Gillian hesitantly reached out a hand to touch the horse, drawing back when Polly snuffled inquiringly in her direction. “Why does she do that?”

  “It’s her way of saying hello.”

  “Oh.” Gillian reached out again, and this time her hand stayed where it was, carefully stroking the horse’s nose, even when Polly turned toward her.

  “I’ve a bit of apple left,” Thea said softly, after a few minutes. “Would you like to feed it to her?”

  “All right.” Gillian took the apple and held it out, snatching it back when Polly’s teeth got a bit too close. “That tickles!” she exclaimed, as the horse took the apple.

  “See? Polly likes you.”

  “Do you think so?” Gillian turned back to the horse, who was watching her through liquid brown eyes. “She’s a nice old horse, aren’t you, girl?”

  “So she is,” Thea said briskly, hiding the tangle of emotions she felt, triumph, joy, compassion, and just a little anxiety. She had succeeded in breaking through some of Gillian’s fear, and that meant that soon her task would be accomplished. She would have no reason to stay, unless she told Jeremy about the baby. Putting her hand on her stomach, she steeled herself against the swift upsurge of nervousness. Of course she was going to tell Jeremy. It was simply turning out to be harder than she’d expected. Suppose he didn’t want to break his engagement to Evadne? What would she do then?

  “Thea? May we go to the beach now?”

  Thea took a deep breath. “Of course. Say goodbye to Polly.”

  “All right.” Gillian looked back at Polly, and then, with a surprising show of reluctance, climbed down from the stool. “Good-bye, old girl.”

  “We’ll come to see Polly tomorrow,” Thea promised, taking Gillian’s hand as they went out.

  “And may we take her another apple? She likes apples, doesn’t she, Thea?”

  “So she does. Now, I wonder who that is,” she said, as a post chaise came down the drive.

  “Are we having visitors?” Evadne, dressed for riding, walked toward them. “Stanton might have told me.”

  “I think it might be—yes, it is. My brother, Miss Powell.”

  “Your brother!”

  “Yes. He’s been managing the stud farm for me while I’m here, but he has some questions. Francis.” Thea went forward, smiling, aware that Evadne was trailing behind her. “How good to see you. Are things really that bad at Linwood?”

  Francis bent to kiss her cheek. “No, nothing serious,” he said, looking past her. “Good morning, Miss Powell.”

  “Mr. Thorne,” Evadne replied, with none of her usual flirtatiousness. Thea looked at her speculatively. “Will you be with us long?”

  “A few days. I’ve some matters I need to consult with my sister about.”

  “Well, we are happy to have you. Would you like to see our stables?”

  “If you will allow me to wash off the dirt of the road first, I’d be happy to.”

  “I’ll see if Gregg has a room prepared for you. It’s a small house, really,” Evadne said, her voice floating back to Thea as she took Francis’s arm and led him inside. “I shall have to make some changes once we are married.”

  Francis’s reply was lost to Thea, who stared after them, her eyebrows slightly raised. Why was Francis here? The stud surely cou
ld get by without her for a few days; it had in the past. She suspected that Evadne had more to do with his appearance here than any problems at Linwood, and the thought raised her spirits immeasurably.

  “Come, kitten,” she said, taking Gillian’s hand and swinging it back and forth. “Let’s go down to the beach.”

  “Evadne?” Francis called, peering into the dimness of the stables. He had expected to find her waiting for him at the house, but Gregg had informed him that she had come ahead. Francis grinned to himself. He was the first to admit that he didn’t understand women, but he thought he understood Evadne very well, indeed. Flirtatious she might be, but he knew it was all a game. When things got more serious, as he suspected they were between them, she changed. She got scared. He might very well have to do his fair share of pursuing during this visit. “Are you here?”

  “Ooh!” Evadne brushed past him, so quickly that he pulled back in scant time to prevent a collision, and went running out into the stable yard. “I hate him, I hate him!”

  “Evadne.” Francis laid a hand on her shoulder and swung her around to face him. In contrast to her usual sweet demeanor, her face was screwed up with anger and chagrin. Oddly enough, Francis preferred this look. At least it was honest. “What has happened to overset you so?”

  “It’s Stanton! I hate him! He doesn’t want me to have any fun at all.”

  “I see.” The gravity of his tone was belied by the twitching of his lips. “What has he done now?”

  “He’s forbidden me to go riding.”

  “Has he?”

  “Well.” Evadne looked down, straightening the lace at her cuffs, and then raised defiant eyes to him. “He won’t let me go riding by myself.”

  “Without a groom? Ah, I see. So you’re angry.”

  “Yes! And all I asked was to have mounts saddled for us.”

  “And that made you feel as if you can’t make your own decisions.”

  “Yes! Oh, you do understand! Why can’t he?”

  “I daresay he would, if you explained it to him.”

  Evadne gazed up at him. He hadn’t needed to have it explained; he had understood, without words. A hard little knot of loneliness that Evadne hadn’t known was inside her began to dissolve. For the first time in her life, someone saw her as herself. “Most likely he would,” she agreed, “but I suppose he is right. I really shouldn’t ride by myself. Suppose my horse threw me?”