‘Yes, if you’ll allow it. It’ll be a bit of a squash, but they’ll be safe and dry, and well fed.’
‘Tch! Angel of mercy on the rampage again?’
‘I don’t need your gibes, my lord. They’re my family. We don’t do rewards and bargains; we simply help each other for love’s sake. You’ve done the same for yours.’
‘Quite right, sweetheart. And I was not mocking you. Your principles are admirable. You put me to shame.’
Even so, I believed he was mocking me, but this was no time to make an issue of it when I needed his help.
‘Would you care to tell me about them before we meet?’ he said, gently.
‘I can do better than that. If you were to help me rescue them tomorrow when you send men to retrieve the phaeton, you could meet them sooner.’
His promptness took me by surprise. ‘That can be done. I will arrange to have them brought here, if that is what you wish.’
‘Thank you. That would help. The floods are actually working in your favour, it seems. They’ve brought your plans forwards, haven’t they?’
‘Yes, that’s about the size of it.’
‘And since you have a policy of never doing anything for nothing, I suppose you’ll expect them to pay you to be rescued.’
‘You will be familiar, Miss Follet, with the Yorkshire adage, “Never do owt for nowt. And if tha ever does owt for nowt, do it for thi sen.” Yes, I expect there’ll be some kind of price to pay. After all, this is my house.’
‘What kind of price do you have in mind, my lord?’
‘I’ll think of something. Leave it to me.’
‘Gladly. But I hope it will be something they can afford. Once their livelihood is gone, they’ll have few means, except for their savings.’
His fingertips pressed together, making a tall steeple. ‘Then it will have to be something you can afford, won’t it?’ he said, quietly.
Inevitably, we had strayed on to dangerous ground. In a house of this size, it would be quite impossible for us all to live together for long, the three bedrooms being taken up by myself, Mrs Goode and Jamie, with servants’ quarters for my cook, housekeeper, maid and footman, chambermaid and kitchen maid. My mother would need a room to share with her two old faithfuls, the two boys to share another. I had no idea where or how they would all fit in, unless I converted my parlour into a bedroom. But where was I going to find beds for them all? Where would I put all the stuff they would bring? If only Winterson would offer them the use of Stonegate. I could not ask him, but I needed more than a rescue for them. I needed another house.
‘I don’t suppose…?’ I began, hesitantly.
‘Yes?’
‘That there’s any chance…well…that they could be…er…re-housed somewhere? The boys are strong. They’ll have to start earning. Somehow. I don’t expect my mother to see the year out. She’ll need my attention. Do you have a small property they could…er… borrow, until…?’
‘Until?’
He was not about to make it easy for me. Why should he? He had more than once suggested marriage and I had refused to consider it, expecting that he would keep trying. His father had urged him, only to be told that the final decision rested with me, to be made in my own time. Now, much sooner than I had intended, the time had come for me to offer myself as the price of my family’s welfare. I would have to summon up the courage.
‘Lord Winterson,’ I said, watching his steepled fingers curl up cosily together, ‘you once offered to marry me, for Jamie’s sake. Do I take it that your offer still stands?’
‘No,’ he said, tonelessly.
‘What?’
‘I said no. I make no offer.’
‘Oh, I see. Then you do not wish me to be your wife, after all.’
‘I didn’t say that.’
‘Then what did you say?’
‘I said that I make no offer, Miss Follet.’
‘Isn’t that the same thing?’
‘Not at all. I have no objection to you making me an offer, nor does it stop me accepting it. After all, you are using marriage as a bargaining tool, are you not? So if you want that to be the price of my help to your family, then you must offer me that price and let us see if we can reach agreement.’
No doubt he caught something in my eye, some glance of controlled self-consciousness, for he continued before I could find a word to say. ‘Yes, I know what you’re thinking. You are recalling the time, only last weekend, when I said I shall never stop wanting you. It’s still true, but you must not confuse that sentiment with weakness. You see, you’re just as bad as me when it comes to the price of a favour, are you not?’
‘No,’ I said, indignantly. ‘We were talking then of kindnesses. Marriage is not a kindness.’
‘You have experience of it, then?’
‘No more than you, my lord.’
‘Then we’re both in the same wobbly boat. Do I take it that you’re offering me your hand in marriage? Not for our own sakes, of course, but for more unselfish reasons.’
What deceits. What bickerings and bluff. Who did we hope to fool by this dissembling? I wondered. I adored him, and he must have known it, yet my pride was still unmended and I could not offer it to anyone in that condition. Only as an exchange of favours, so that we both knew what we were getting, this time. So that there was no talk of love, the superb abstract that cannot be weighed or valued. Nothing as fugitive or as fragile as love. No, nothing as dangerous as love that can be confused with so many other agonies. Yet there was a moment, a lull in the grand deception, when our eyes held as they had before, when our desires went naked and wanton into each other’s souls, reaching in to dance madly, to mate, and to come as close to love as need be. His eyes darkened, and still I was too uncertain, too cautious to bare my heart to him in words.
‘For those reasons, my lord, yes,’ I lied. ‘If you will find them somewhere suitable to live, with a patch of land where they can start again. They can stay with me until then, but I must keep my promise to rescue them tomorrow. Is it agreed between us?’
Leaning forward, he took both my trembling hands into his. ‘Jamie needs it. Your family needs it. What do you need, sweetheart? What is it you intend to withhold? What do you have left to hold on to except that hurt pride? Isn’t it time you allowed me to fix it? Just remember this, that I may not know all there is to know about you, yet, I still know more than any other man exactly how that pride was damaged. And although it may be damaged, it’s still in good working order. I will accept your offer, even on those terms. I will give them a place to live and make it habitable for them. I’ll do whatever is necessary for their comfort. And for that, exactly what am I to expect?’
An end to this dreadful pretence, I wanted to cry, for the pain of it is too terrible for me to bear much longer. But how could I place my entire trust in such a man whose coldness had hurt me for so many years since that first meeting? Then, there was that one mad night. Then more bewildering indifference. And now this. What was I to believe? What could he expect from me except the same, on a longer time-scale? Passionate nights with intervals of icy coolness that would be as difficult for him to understand as it had been for me? Yes, at one time a certain pretence would have been necessary, for Linas’s sake. But surely…oh, surely there could have been something to keep my heart from breaking. Had he thought that Jamie was all I wanted?
My hesitation was too much for him, and I felt his hands tighten over mine before sliding up to grasp my elbows, pulling me to my feet that were still trapped inside my muff. His grip moved up, his thumbs cruelly hooked beneath my arms, pulling me up to his mouth like a child with a puppet. My body swayed and bent.
His voice was hoarse with emotion, almost angry. ‘Then I’ll tell you what I expect, shall I? I expect everything you gave my brother, and more. You’ll be in my bed each night and at my board by day. You’ll be a friend to my friends and a mother to my children, my companion and helpmeet. In all things obedient. Now, is that what you can
offer me, or have I missed something out, Miss Follet?’
Nothing material, I wanted to say. Only the mention of love, which apparently he did not expect. The bargain had only been waiting to be made, but I had not thought it would come like this, so prematurely. It was, after all, only a few short weeks since we’d begun to communicate. But my precious family were all I had, and I was responsible for them.
‘Well?’ he whispered. ‘Second thoughts, is it?’
‘No. That is what I’m offering. Just that.’
His eyes searched mine for doubts, but found none. ‘Your family must mean much to you. Then we have a deal.’
I would have said yes, spit on my palm and shook hands on it as farmers do at market, signed something, exchanged some small token. But in the blink of an eye his mouth was upon mine, taking my breath away with a kiss as fierce as any I’d ever received, a kiss of victory and possession that I was helpless to soften in any way. His arms encircled my waist and shoulders, pushing my arm up to hold his head against me, cheek to cheek, and I heard his breathy whisper past my ear. ‘Mine. Mine. You belong to me, Helene Follet. Me alone. I have you at last, woman.’
It was the talk of envy, jealousy, rivalry, not the words of love or desire. It seemed to be repayment time. Collecting the winnings after an all-night game and a too-long wait. Though he had mentioned my needs, I could not expect him to dwell on them when his own were so great.
If my mind began to seek provisos, it was too late, but I had made no mention of the business, or my need to supplement what Linas had once provided. Presumably there would be no need for that in the future. So I did not mention it. One thing at a time, my common sense told me. Surprisingly, what my heart told me was very similar. Comfort him, it said. He needs your comfort, for his pain is just as great as yours. It’s up to you to find out why.
Without a shred of understanding, I cradled his head inside the garland of my arms and rocked him gently like a mother, fondling his cheek and earlobe with my lips as if I knew where all this was coming from. We had both done our best to give, and to take what we believed was our due, and now the time had come to comfort each other for the price we had agreed. There was still so much explaining to be done, so much that I did not know about this business, long-held misconceptions about the relationship between two brothers. He had accepted my offer without demur, but I could sense the pain. Perhaps he felt an improper urgency so soon after his twin’s demise. Or was there something else? Now was not the time to ask, for we were both tired, especially me.
In more normal circumstances, I would have gone early to bed and slept like a child, but this was not normal, nor could I imagine being held in his arms without wanting to belong to him in every sense, exhausted or not. It was not that I wished to reward him for coming to my rescue, for agreeing to help my family, or for offering me lifelong security. Nothing like that. He would have sensed the difference between a payment and a demand, I know. So while I aroused him with my lips, my hands delved beneath his tailcoat to find the hard muscle-bound valley of his back and to pull his shirt out of his breeches for a more intimate contact with his skin. Shamelessly demanding, I was, flaunting my honesty.
There was no pretence with him, either. No mock surprise or prudish rebuke of my brazenness, but a deep gasp of excitement from his throat as he bent to pick me up and swing me into his arms, dipping me at the door so that I could open it. Across the hall and up the stairs with no one to witness the abduction, only Debbie emerged from somewhere to open and then to close my bedroom door behind us without a word.
Then, since I had initiated the undressing, he allowed me to act as his valet, though with more haste and less reverence than he was used to, and punctuated by my kisses to every newly exposed area I could reach. How can one describe the soft tang of male skin, the scent of masculine intentions, or the air that breathes sexuality, anticipation and mastery? I had not managed to disguise my love from his father, and apparently I had not done so from him, either. Yet while I indulged myself in this way, exploring and fondling his body by the light of the fire, even down to his toes, I sensed no complacency or conceit in him that the affair had gone so soon in his favour, but rather an appreciation of the gentle ministrations after my earlier indignation.
My own garments were loose and easily undone, quickly slipped off my shoulders as I unbuckled, unbuttoned and untied him from complicated flaps and folds. I think I was bared before he was, kissed at intervals and caressed constantly until, at last, we could no longer delay the pleasure of the full-length contact our bodies demanded. Lifting me again, he carried me across to the bed where, with my arms still around his neck, he repeated the words he’d spoken earlier. ‘Mine. Mine. No going back, sweetheart.’
I had carried my own version of that sentiment, though now it was already too late to put it into practice. In my dreams of retribution, I had thought to withhold myself, to blow hot and cold, to confuse him with my inconsistency. That was before the reality of our last night together, and now this—it would take more strength than I had to play the coquette with him.
In deference to my nightmarish day and extreme tiredness, his loving was exquisitely tender and undemanding, full of sweetness when his lips brushed across my eyelids, when he told me I was all a man could desire and how I was all he had ever desired enough to want to marry. Which, of course, I had difficulty believing, since he had not desired me enough to pursue me all those years ago, but had let his brother take up the hunt. I let it go, for his lips and hands lured me into other more immediate responses, and I was discovering a new kind of enjoyment in being dog-tired and being made love to by a sympathetic lover. He knew exactly how to comfort me better than I knew how to comfort him, how to bring me with patience to a star-bursting climax before taking his own pleasure as the stars fell earthwards. He knew to wipe me down and attend to the ease of my weary frame and, in his arms, I fell asleep almost immediately while thinking how different again this was from any previous experience. I ought not to have compared them, I know, for therein lay the root of unfairness. But I did.
* * *
It was still pitch dark when we woke, simultaneously stirring in each other’s embrace, entwining, hungry for more sensation, our mouths seeking through a screen of my hair. Full length I lay upon him with my tresses making a tent over his face. His hands cupped my behind, pulling me into position, then rolling with me so that, in one quick flip, I was beneath him, possessed again, mindless with excitement and still only half-awake. There was no long languorous preparation this time, more like that first unreal night at Abbots Mere when no word was spoken, when we came together countless times, insatiable and desperate for consolation. It was like that now, as if making up for time lost, as if to remind ourselves and each other, even in half-sleep, that we had made a pact that could not be broken. He was powerful and purposeful and I matched him, urging him with my hands and lifting my hips to him, revelling in the knowledge that he would still be with me in the morning, and every morning to come.
Afterwards, comforted, I wondered whether that would be the right time to confirm his father’s opinion that I was in love with him. But he had not spoken of love, only desire, and my pride was, as he had said, still in good working order. Time enough for talk of love, I decided. There would be as many difficult days ahead as there had been in the past, and some riddles to be solved about the exact nature of Lord Winterson’s conquest. About my family’s future, I was not half so sure.
Our breakfast together, taken well before Jamie was astir, was served by my footman as if Lord Winterson’s presence there was now a foregone conclusion.
‘I shall not be taking you with me,’ he said, scraping up the last crumb of scrambled egg from his plate.
‘Was that to your satisfaction?’ I said. ‘Not quite the way your Mrs Adamson does it.’
‘The company more than makes up for it. Did you hear what I said?’
‘I heard. But I don’t see how you can do it without me. M
y mother is hardly going to deliver herself into the hands of complete strangers with all her goods and chattels. I wouldn’t.’
‘No, I dare say you would not. But she’s had time to prepare herself, and I’m not exactly a complete stranger. You must have mentioned me from time to time, and your brothers will surely persuade her to trust me. Anyway, you said she was ailing.’
‘So you think she’ll quit like a lamb? It would not do to underestimate my mother’s fighting spirit, my lord.’
‘Like mother, like daughter, then.’ Even passing his coffee cup to me for a refill was done gracefully, with a slide of his eyes over me as I poured.
‘Please let me come,’ I said. ‘The shop will look after itself.’
His hand closed softly over mine. ‘I know,’ he said. ‘You are a model of efficiency, but how will you prepare to receive guests if you’re not here? They’ll need places to put their things, places to sleep, bedding, food, whatever. You’re needed here, sweetheart. Give Jamie some jobs to do.’
‘Jamie? What can he do?’
‘More than you think. Let him help. He enjoys it.’
I frowned, not best pleased to be told how to mother the child I’d reared more or less alone for three years.
Ignoring the stony response, he continued. ‘I’ve sent to Abbots Mere for all the men and carts, and a boat to get them across the water. They’ll bring all we need to do the job. And a carriage for the ladies. I shall pick up your phaeton, too.’
‘And check that the supplies are still in it, if you please.’
‘I’ll bring them back. Now, just trust me, will you? I have to go. I expect it will take all day. You’d better clear out some of those storerooms at the back of the house. We shall need them.’
‘You’ll be dining here, too?’
‘Probably not. My parents are still at Abbots Mere, so I’d better go back. Will you miss me?’
‘Yes,’ I said, before I could think about it.
His hand squeezed and released me, sliding down my fingers and changing the direction of my breath. He could have taken me on the floor. Anywhere. I argued no more, for he was quite right. I was needed here. Jamie needed me, after a day apart. Prue needed me, particularly.
Marrying the Mistress Page 17