The sun seemed brighter, the day warmer in his company, she thought, that now-familiar ripple of response going through her as she placed her hand on his arm. Walking side by side through the garden, virtually alone, was an intimacy that could easily lead to her wanting more. Another reason to limit herself in future to intellectual discussions in her father’s office or forays on horseback, both of them mounted on their respective steeds, a safe distance apart.
‘Are you enjoying this event?’ he asked, startling her out of her reflections.
‘I like being in London, but I’ve missed the country. Though we spend a good deal of time in the city, accompanying Papa when he’s working in the office here, I grew up riding the trails and rambling along the paths of my grandfather’s country house outside Tynemouth. Mother and I always return there when Papa is off on his frequent travels.’
‘Indeed? I thought you lived all the year in London.’
‘Oh, no! My father has another office in Newcastle, and we almost always spend the summers at Faircastle House. Papa says the city isn’t salubrious in the hot summer months.’
‘Fleeing the city in the heat? See, you do share something with the ton, who also retreat to their country estates after Parliament adjourns. Do you enjoy garden parties like this one at your grandfather’s house?’
She shook her head. ‘No, it’s my first time to attend a petit déjeuner champêtre—such a pretentious name, by the way! Although I find it ridiculous to refer to an event held in the afternoon as a “breakfast”.’
Crispin chuckled. ‘Ah, but for ton fashionables who attend balls until the wee hours or gamble until dawn, this probably is when they normally breakfast.’
‘If so, another reason to dislike the group. I admit, the setting is lovely, but when I look at all the chairs that have been placed around the grounds, the tables brought out and loaded with refreshments that servants must scurry back and forth from the kitchens to replenish, all I can think about is how much trouble it must have been for the staff to set up and serve this event. I’m sure the maids and footmen with sore feet and aching arms wish the affair could have been held inside in one of the salons or ballrooms already furnished with chairs and tables that wouldn’t have to be moved. Where the kitchens in which the refreshments are prepared are much closer to the places where they are being served.’
‘Like the French, are you, ready to abolish the monarchy and create a republic?’ he teased.
‘No, just someone who appreciates the hard work of my staff and doesn’t wish to make it unnecessarily more difficult. But then,’ she added, ‘Lady Arlsley told me Lady Norwalk takes great pride in the excellence, grand scale and uniqueness of her affair. She—and aristocrats like her—probably never spare a thought for the extra work she creates for her servants. Yet another reason to be glad I—and my egalitarian beliefs—shall soon be exiting aristocratic society.’
‘Ah, but if Lady Norwalk had greater sensibility, we’d not be walking here with this backdrop of glorious spring flowers. The ladies do look like brilliant blooms or colourful butterflies beside the allées of greenery, don’t they?’
‘I grant you it makes a pretty picture. But the ladies could stroll just as prettily if the tables and refreshments remained inside.’
‘Point taken. Have you seen more of Lord Charles? I didn’t notice him hovering near you at the rout last night.’
Marcella sighed. ‘It appears you were right; he was about to make me a declaration. I tried to refuse him as gently as I could, telling him how honoured I was by his esteem, but that I couldn’t consider anything warmer than friendship. I hope I didn’t wound his sensibilities too much.’
‘I can understand his disappointment. He’s unlikely ever to find another treasure like you, with the sense to appreciate his good character and the kindness to overlook his lack of wit.’
His assessment sent a shock of surprise through her. Did Crispin think her a ‘treasure’? She was about to ask him, then remembered he’d already told her several times he never said anything he didn’t mean.
She felt immensely pleased to know she figured so highly in his esteem. Of course, she esteemed him pretty highly too. If only...
She jerked her imaginings to a halt before they could venture down that futile path. Not only was Dellamont neither an engineer nor someone from her world, he’d already assured her several times he did not wish to marry. What he wanted to treasure from her was friendship.
If she were lucky, Austin would end up deciding to make her an offer. She’d be able to wrap herself in his cherished, long-familiar affection. An affection whose warmth would insulate her from the chill of losing her close association with Dellamont.
She gave herself a mental shake, telling herself not to waste the time she did have being melancholy about the changes that must happen in the future. It was a beautiful day, she was walking through a lovely country garden accompanied by an enticingly handsome escort she liked and admired. How foolish of her to be anything but joyful!
While she ordered her emotions, Crispin had paused to consult the map. ‘We’re very near where the path leads off to the maze. What do you think, my engineering marvel? Do you believe you could figure out the pathways and beat me to the centre?’
‘I’ve never been in a maze before, but I’m ready to give it a try,’ she said, glad to be distracted by his light-hearted challenge.
He swept out a hand. ‘Ladies first. Choose your pathway, I’ll take the other. After we find the centre and make our way back, you’ll have had enough exertion that even you will be ready to snag an outdoor glass of punch from those poor overworked servants.’
‘Perhaps,’ she admitted. ‘Shall we be off?’
‘After you. I’ll be waiting for you at the centre.’
‘No,’ she said, waving a finger at him. ‘I’ll be waiting there for you.’
Marcella proceeded quickly to the first corner, then once out of view of Crispin, halted and went up on tiptoe, trying to see if she could get a sense of the way the pathways were laid out and what might prove the shortest route to the centre.
But the hedges were too tall and grew too thickly together. She would have to proceed by guess.
* * *
Ten minutes later, after being confounded by several dead ends and having to reverse course, her excitement grew as she realised she had to be approaching the centre. She turned one of the ever-tightening corners—and almost collided with Lord Hoddleston.
Stopping short, she stiffened with dislike. Standing before her was the very last person she wanted to meet along the twisting pathways.
‘Lord Hoddleston,’ she said coldly, giving him a curtsy. ‘You must have already found the centre and be making your way out. Don’t let me detain you.’
‘I have, but it’s you I wanted to find. I spied you enter the maze with Dellamont, a number of others following in your wake. Which means I’m sure someone will come upon us shortly.’
As he stepped closer, she stepped away. But he continued until he’d backed her into the corner of one of the pathway’s sharp curves. Truly annoyed now, she said, ‘You may have found the centre, but I have not yet. It’s not sporting of you to restrain me.’
‘Oh, the game’s not been sporting for some time. I admit, Dellamont has carried on his charade of courtship longer than I expected. Which makes me impatient. It’s time to take matters out of his hands—into mine. Since that requires taking you into my hands, I’m quite willing to proceed.’
While he stood there, towering over her, heat in his eyes and a self-satisfied smile on his face, she said angrily, ‘Don’t you understand that you only make yourself ridiculous by persisting? I’ve already assured you I would not entertain your suit under any circumstances. So act as the gentleman you were born and release me.’
‘But where you are concerned, I can no longer afford to be a gentleman.
My creditors are becoming a bit too pressing, you see. But I’m not at all averse to speeding up the process. You’ll be a prize I intend to savour, in addition to all that lovely dowry.’
He leaned down and grabbed her shoulders, trying to force her into his arms. While she struggled to prevent it, he said, ‘Fight if you want, but I’m too strong for you. The next couple that comes around the corner is going to see you in my arms and realise they’ve interrupted a scandalous tryst. Dellamont will bow out, and you will have to marry me.’
He was stronger than she’d expected, his arms longer than the ones she was using to try to push him away. She continued to resist, though, trying to manoeuvre into a position where she might stomp a heel on his instep, since he’d already moved too close for her to get a knee up to slam into his breeches.
He pushed harder, pressing her back until the trimmed ends of the clipped shrubs bit into her back, trying to kiss her as she jerked her face from side to side to avoid his mouth. She was considering how she might succeed in biting him if he managed to get his lips on hers when suddenly, his weight was lifted off her.
‘Dellamont!’ she cried, relief flooding her. Had anyone else come to her aid, news of the episode would quickly have become the subject of gossip—just as Hoddleston had planned.
By the thundercloud expression on Dellamont’s face, it might become the subject of murder. After pulling the Baron away from her, he shoved the man in the opposite direction. Then, facing him, he said, ‘I thought I’d warned you to cease troubling Miss Cranmore.’
‘What Miss Cranmore and I do is none of your concern.’
‘It becomes mine when you persist in paying her attentions she has told you repeatedly she does not want. And punishment becomes my concern when you trespass far beyond the line anyone who calls himself a gentleman should proceed with a lady.’
Before Hoddleston could reply—probably with another snide remark that Marcella was no lady—Crispin slammed a sharp left jab into the Baron’s jaw, followed by a right hook that sent him tumbling to the ground.
‘Need any further persuasion?’ Crispin snarled. ‘This time, hear me well. You are never to approach Miss Cranmore again or by heaven, our next encounter will be much more painful. If you see her walking down the street, you’d better cross to the other side. I’d advise you to concentrate instead on finding the gold you need from some other money pot.’
The Baron pulled himself up from the dust, glaring. Taking a handkerchief from his pocket, he wiped the trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth. ‘You’re going to be sorry you did this, Dellamont.’
‘I’m only sorry I didn’t do it sooner. Might I suggest you quickly repair to your residence before anyone sees you and asks how you acquired that cut lip and swollen jaw?’
‘You may think you’ve won. But this is not over.’ Hoddleston transferred his gaze to Marcella, his expression furious. ‘You’ll pay for it, too.’
She shrank back from the venom in his eyes, doubly glad now that she would soon be back in her own world and safely out of his.
After brushing off his coat, Hoddleston set his hat back on his head and stalked off.
After the Baron had disappeared, Crispin blew out a breath. ‘You are unharmed, I trust?’
‘Y-yes,’ she replied, surprised to find her voice shaky.
Then, to her shock and delight, the Viscount pulled her into his arms. ‘I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t have left you alone. I wouldn’t have, if I’d known Hoddleston was on the grounds.’
Marcella snuggled against his chest, relishing the feeling of being safe and protected even as his nearness set off the usual swooping sensation in her stomach and tingling in her nerves. Determined to enjoy this forbidden embrace to the fullest before she had to bring it to an end, she allowed herself another few precious seconds before she pushed away.
‘Truly, I am fine. You arrived before he succeeded in kissing me, which, if I didn’t manage to bite him to prevent it, probably would have ended the situation anyway. If he’d placed his mouth on mine, I would almost certainly have cast up my accounts all over him.’
Shaking his head at her, Crispin laughed. ‘No screaming or swooning?’
‘I had thought to scream when he first seized me, but that might have attracted the witnesses he needed to be able to successfully compromise me in the eyes of the ton. Not that the idea of scandal bothers me, since I intend to quit their august company soon anyway, and good riddance. But I am grateful you found us first. I wouldn’t have wanted to soil my gown with his blood.’
Crispin studied her for a moment. ‘You truly are remarkable. But I’m confident you won’t need rescuing again. I meant what I told him. If he comes anywhere near, you have only to tell me and I will deal with him. The outcome for him, I promise you, will be even less pretty. Now, are you certain you are recovered? I could take you back to Lady Arlsley with you claiming to feel faint from the sun and ask that she take you home.’
‘I’d only have felt ill if Lord Hoddleston had succeeded in kissing me. I’ve lost my enthusiasm for the maze, though, so I’d like you to escort me back to the terrace, where we can remain well in sight of the other guests.’ After hesitating a minute, she continued, ‘Just in case someone might have seen or overheard something, I don’t wish to make any mention of the...episode.’
‘Understood. I’ll take you back, fix you a plate and fetch some wine. We can sit in one of the tables beside the arbour where the orchestra is playing.’
She nodded agreement, and he walked her back, from time to time pressing her hand, as if wanting to make sure she had truly recovered. After he’d obtained the refreshments he promised, he took a seat beside her, his serious expression telling her he was still concerned, despite her assurances that she was fine.
‘Truly, I’m not upset, so you may cease worrying. My remaining time in society will be short, and even if Lord Hoddleston should decide obtaining my dowry is worth risking your wrath, I don’t think he’d actually attempt to despoil me. As I said, I care nothing for being “compromised”, since the ton’s opinion of me carries no weight in my world. I would prefer that Mr Gilling not learn of Hoddleston’s boorish behaviour. He, like you, might feel compelled to do something about it. The Baron might be no match for you, but I’m not sure how handy Mr Gilling is with his fists.’
‘So you are determined to leave society...in little over a week?’
She nodded, unwilling to put her feelings into words.
How could she explain that she needed to leave before she started longing for more of his embraces? Before her control slipped, and she kissed him again? Before losing the near daily camaraderie they’d been sharing hurt too much?
Before she truly lost her heart to the unattainable Prince Charming?
She couldn’t, of course.
‘I shall have to inform Lady Arlsley soon,’ she said instead. ‘Her ladyship is going to be incredulous that anyone would voluntarily reject the privilege of mingling among the ton’s elite. Incredulous, and perhaps resentful that she was forced to tarnish her good name by having to sponsor my unworthiness.’
‘I thought you said she’d be relieved not to be blamed for finding you an aristocratic husband.’
‘That too.’
He hesitated and she held her breath, wondering what he might say. Express his own sorrow that their glorious bargain would soon end?
But when he did speak, he said only, ‘Make sure I know which final events you will attend. I’ll warn my mother and make plans to leave London immediately after. Perhaps I’ll escort Mama back to Montwell Glen, so as to better shield her from my father’s...disappointment. Shall we ride again tomorrow? If your time in the ton is about to end, we need to start making plans about how and when we can meet at your father’s office.’
She was foolish to think what they’d shared had shaken his world as much as it had hers.
All he treasures is your friendship, she reminded herself.
Despite the hollow feeling in her chest, she nodded. ‘Yes, I’d like that.’
‘Let me bring you another fortifying glass of wine before you depart, then.’
He walked away, Marcella watching as he sought out one of the servants carrying trays of glasses.
Sadness filled the hollow in her chest, even though she knew leaving society was the right choice. The prudent choice. The necessary choice.
She would simply have to savour these last few times he would escort her, partner her for a dance, bring her refreshments while they were both part of the same world, his company a delight it had been all too easy to become accustomed to.
She would become accustomed to its lack, she told herself. She’d turn her focus instead into exploring whether the long-time affection she’d shared with Austin could transform from her girlhood worship and his fondness for a charming child into the mature love necessary between a man and a wife. As his wife, she could at least remain near her family, near her father’s office, once she had to let go the work she loved and take up the domestic duties she’d never wanted.
The excitement of Crispin’s attention, like the course of a shooting star, had been like a brilliant streak of light through the night sky of her life, swift and as swiftly vanishing. Austin was the north star, perhaps not as exciting, but a reliable, guiding presence. Solid and dependable as the rock base of a bridge support designed to carry heavy loads for a lifetime.
Even if the prospect of wedding him no longer thrilled her as much as it once had.
Chapter Fourteen
The following morning, Marcella rode with her groom through the gates into Hyde Park. With only a handful of days left in her Season, she intended to enjoy every possible activity with Crispin, even riding, though she hoped this one shared venture might be salvaged for...after.
A smile of irony curved her lips. When had she mentally begun dividing up her life into before she left society—and his frequent company—and after?
The Railway Countess Page 17