The Brooding Earl's Proposition

by Laura Martin

‘Goodnight, Matthew,’ she said, then disappeared before he could open his mouth to protest.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Selina awoke with a smile on her face. Priscilla had completely recovered from her fever, the sun was once again shining across the moors and she’d slept better than she had done in months. She wasn’t sure if it was the fresh country air or finally feeling settled and content, but the sleepless nights were fast becoming a thing of the past.

  As she slid out of bed she acknowledged the main reason for the smile on her face. Last night at dinner Matthew had admitted he didn’t want to leave, at least not yet. As he’d said the words she’d longed to hear, that he would stay a little longer in England, Selina had felt like jumping from her chair and flinging her arms around him. She’d managed to control herself, to remain dignified, but the smile from last night was still there on her face this morning.

  You’ve fallen for him, the little voice in her head said and Selina knew she couldn’t deny it. She had fallen for him, utterly, completely. Despite the fact he was a gentleman, despite the fact Selina had thought she would never trust a man of his class again, she’d fallen head over heels in love with him.

  And now he was staying, at least for a little longer.

  She knew she couldn’t get her hopes up. She had to remain realistic. Matthew was staying for the sake of his nieces, for the chance to build a relationship with them. Never had he hinted that he wanted anything more from her than the affair he had proposed a few days ago. Although last night there had been a wistfulness about him, a hopefulness that Selina had only ever glimpsed before.

  Before she started to dress she looked at herself critically in the small mirror hanging on her wall. She looked plainer than she had when she’d been a debutante with a full dance card and plenty of admirers, plain and sensible. Hardly what an earl would be looking for in a wife. Matthew could have the pick of the eligible young women both in Yorkshire and London. He was a young, handsome earl, with a thriving business and, if the rumours among the servants were to be believed, a fortune to rival the wealthiest in the country. Once his presence in the country was known the ambitious parents of every single young woman would be knocking the door down of Manresa House to try to ally their family with his.

  ‘He could have anyone,’ Selina murmured, sweeping her hair back. It was a sobering thought. One day he probably would decide to marry, to settle down with a woman from a reputable family. A mother figure for the girls, a woman who would not want Selina in her household. Or perhaps she wouldn’t see the plain governess as a threat at all.

  Shaking herself, she resolved to think of happier things. For now she was just grateful he wasn’t going to be disappearing any time soon. The girls would get longer with their uncle and she would be able to spend more time with the man she couldn’t stop thinking about. The man she loved.

  ‘Enough,’ she said quietly. There was to be no more thoughts of love.

  Selina quickly dressed, pulling on one of the grey woollen dresses and wishing for a moment that she had something more elegant to wear. The grey wool was practical and kept the chill of the North York Moors from her skin, but she longed for the silks and satins from her debutante days.

  * * *

  ‘Good morning,’ Lord Westcroft said, startling her as she left her room heading for the nursery. Selina wasn’t easily caught off guard, but she yelped in surprise.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ she asked, hearing the accusatory tone in her voice. It was his house, but he really couldn’t have any good reason to be loitering up here.

  ‘I’ve come to see Priscilla and Theodosia,’ he said.

  ‘This early in the morning?’

  ‘I assumed they would be up. I was always up early as a child.’

  ‘Priscilla may be. She’s often reading when I go in to hurry them along in the mornings, but Theodosia would sleep until noon if I let her.’

  ‘Curious, although I suppose it makes sense. She has to recuperate from expending all that energy at some point.’

  He walked next to her along the corridor, their arms brushing every couple of steps, making it hard for Selina to focus on anything but the man beside her.

  The girls shared a bedroom just off the nursery itself, a little way along the corridor from the schoolroom. Matthew leaned against the wall as Selina knocked at the door and peeked inside. As she had predicted, Priscilla was sitting curled up in one of the comfortable armchairs placed in front of the window, reading her book. Theodosia was still snuggled under her sheets, just a mass of tangled blonde hair on the pillow framing rosy cheeks.

  Crossing the room, she greeted Priscilla first, dropping a kiss on the top of her head. Then she went over to the bed where Theodosia was still sleeping and perched on the edge.

  ‘Time to wake up, sleepy head,’ she said, gently peeling the sheets back and giving Theodosia a little rub on her shoulders. The girl opened one bleary eye and promptly turned over, muttering something into her pillow. ‘The day is wasting away—you don’t want to miss the sunshine.’

  Reluctantly Theodosia turned back over and after a few seconds sat up and wriggled into Selina’s lap.

  ‘What are we doing today?’ The little girl’s eyes were still closed, her body still heavy with sleep.

  ‘Our normal lessons and perhaps a walk about the gardens as it’s such a beautiful day.’

  ‘I have a suggestion,’ Matthew said, stepping further into the room. Selina had hoped he was here to tell the girls he would be staying in England longer, that way it would be hard for him to change his mind, but it seemed he was thinking of something else today. ‘Do you remember in Whitby we were all a little disappointed we couldn’t have ice creams? Well, I thought today would be the perfect day to try out the recipe I brought back.’

  Theodosia’s eyes shot open and she jumped from the bed. Selina didn’t think she’d ever seen the little girl move so fast.

  ‘Can we? It’s going to be amazing. Can we make ten different flavours and eat them all for breakfast?’

  Matthew chuckled as Theodosia took him by the hand and led him over to her bed, pushing him to sit down next to Selina and climbing on to his lap as she continued talking. ‘We could make ice creams every single day and eat them for breakfast, lunch and dinner.’

  ‘I think we might get sick of ice cream if we did that,’ Selina said.

  ‘Never. Never, never, never, never, never.’

  ‘Let’s have a normal breakfast,’ Matthew said soothingly. ‘Then I’ve given Cook the morning off so we should have the kitchen to ourselves. One of the footmen is bringing up some ice from the ice house—he assures me there is some left over from summer—and we can get started once it arrives.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Theodosia said, flinging her arms around her uncle.

  * * *

  Eyeing the clean surfaces and neatly tidied utensils, Selina wondered what state the kitchen was going to be in once they’d finished. Theodosia was already bouncing around and even Priscilla seemed excited by the prospect of making ice cream.

  ‘Right,’ Matthew said, smoothing out the recipe in front of him. ‘First we need that large bowl and a lot of cream.’

  Selina began rummaging through the supplies in the pantry, bringing out the jug of cream, a couple of eggs, sugar and salt. The ice block sat slowly dripping in the sink and she saw Theodosia eye it with concern.

  ‘Don’t fear,’ Matthew said, catching his niece’s glance as well, ‘we’ll have the ice cream made and eaten long before that great lump of ice melts.’

  Selina stood back, watching as Matthew instructed the girls on how to measure out the right quantity of cream into the bowl and add the eggs. Already the three of them were sticky, with egg yolk on their fingers and splatters of cream on their clothes.

  ‘Next the sugar and some flavouring. What flavour should we make?’

&
nbsp; ‘Strawberry,’ Priscilla said quickly. ‘That’s my favourite.’

  Theodosia considered for a moment, then nodded in agreement.

  ‘It isn’t really the season for strawberries,’ Selina said, wondering whether the girls would be satisfied with something a little less summery.

  ‘We could try using strawberry jam,’ Priscilla said, eyeing the jars of preserves on the high shelf in the pantry.

  ‘I don’t know if it will mix in, but why don’t we try it? If it is strawberry you want, then it’s strawberry we’ll have.’

  Selina watched as they scooped a blob of strawberry jam into the mixture and Theodosia swirled it round, her face alight with happiness.

  ‘When do we add the ice?’

  ‘I’ll have to chip smaller pieces off,’ Matthew said, taking out a knife from the block and testing the sharpness with a finger. ‘I’ll chip, you girls can add it to the bowl. Miss Salinger, you’re in charge of stirring and adding the salt.’

  They all watched as he began to chip off small pieces of ice from the large block, passing the slippery shards to the girls so they could throw them into the bowl. Selina quickly measured out the right quantity of salt, adding it little by little as the bowl filled up with ice. She stirred vigorously, watching in amazement as the mixture turned creamy and pink.

  When the right amount of ice had been added they all looked in the bowl, amazed that it at least looked more or less the right consistency.

  ‘Now for the test,’ Matthew declared, crossing to the other side of the kitchen and taking four spoons from the drawer where they were kept.

  Theodosia dived straight in, taking a big scoop, and Priscilla followed suit. Selina took her own spoonful, darting out her tongue to test it before slipping the spoon into her mouth. It was cold and creamy and unbelievably sweet. There were still small pieces of ice mixed in with the cream mixture, making it less smooth than the ice cream she’d had before, and the jam was perhaps a little too sweet for a flavouring, but she was surprised at how well it had turned out.

  ‘It’s heavenly,’ Theodosia declared and dug her spoon in for another scoop.’

  Matthew pulled chairs up for them all and they sat, dipping their spoons into the bowl and savouring the ice cream.

  ‘It tastes better when you make it yourself,’ Matthew declared. Theodosia was leaning in to him, a large grin on her face, and Selina could see the happiness behind his smile. The man who had initially not wanted to get too emotionally involved with his nieces had been completely overcome with love for them. It was a heart-warming sight.

  ‘That was amazing,’ Priscilla declared as she took a last scrape of the fast melting ice cream from the bowl.

  ‘Can we make some more?’

  ‘Perhaps next week. Let’s all think of what flavour we’d like and we can order something in from Whitby if need be.’

  Selina sat back, knowing in a few minutes she would have to take the children back upstairs to start their lessons, but just allowing herself to enjoy the moment. Here, at Manresa House, she felt something she hadn’t felt for a very long time. She felt as though she belonged.

  ‘Uncle, may I talk to you?’ Priscilla asked quietly, licking the last of the stickiness from her fingers.

  ‘Of course. Shall we go to my study?’

  Selina frowned, wondering what was worrying the little girl, but ushered Theodosia from her chair and took her hand to lead her upstairs.

  * * *

  Matthew sat down facing Priscilla, taking in her serious face and troubled expression.

  ‘Is something worrying you?’ he asked gently.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Why don’t you tell me what it is?’

  Priscilla shifted in her seat and seemed to be thinking of how to begin.

  ‘I’m worried you’re going to mess things up,’ she said eventually.

  Matthew knew the surprise was showing on his face. He hadn’t been expecting that.

  ‘How might I mess things up?’ he asked.

  Priscilla sighed. ‘People often seem to, don’t they? When they’re happy, and others around them are happy, they go and do things that makes everyone stop being happy.’

  It was quite a profound observation from a nine-year-old.

  ‘I like Miss Salinger,’ Priscilla said and Matthew blinked at the direction of the conversation. ‘I tried not to—in my experience governesses can be cold and indifferent and often don’t stay that long—but Miss Salinger is different.’ She paused as if checking he were following her line of thought. ‘Miss Salinger cares. She’s kind and interesting and she sat by my bed every night when I was ill.’

  ‘She is a treasure of a governess,’ he murmured.

  ‘Quite. And I don’t want her to leave,’ Priscilla said.

  ‘Why do you think she will leave?’

  Matthew had to suppress a smile as the little girl rolled her eyes at him. ‘Weren’t you listening to me? Because you’ll mess things up.’

  ‘How do you think I’ll mess things up?’

  ‘Miss Salinger is in love with you,’ Priscilla said, speaking slowly as if talking to a particularly dumb sheep. ‘At some point you’ll probably break her heart and then she will leave.’

  ‘She’s not in love with me,’ he said instinctively, but as Priscilla looked at him with her large blue eyes he recalled every look, every touch, every kindness Selina had ever given him.

  ‘She is. And you’re in love with her, but you’re too silly to admit it.’

  Matthew opened his mouth, but no words would come out. Priscilla had barely spoken more than four sentences at a time to him before now, always quiet, always watching. Yet here she was telling him his own feelings as if she were the most confident child in the world.

  ‘You should marry her,’ Priscilla said with an emphatic nod. ‘And then she’ll stay. That way it doesn’t matter if you need to go back to India, we can all come with you.’

  ‘I don’t think...’ Matthew said, but was silenced by another roll of the eyes from Priscilla.

  ‘You love her, she loves you. We love her. If you don’t marry her, then you’re a fool.’

  ‘A fool,’ he murmured quietly, then quickly rallied. ‘I seem to remember you saying a few weeks ago that you would never marry.’

  Priscilla sighed. ‘It is completely different for me, Uncle. I am a woman, a wealthy woman. If I marry, all my money will go to my husband, who can then tell me what to do. Why would I want to marry?’

  ‘Surely that is the same for Miss Salinger.’

  ‘She’s not wealthy. And she loves you.’ Priscilla blinked a couple of times, then looked him directly in the eye. ‘Don’t be a fool, Uncle.’

  She stood and stalked out of the room, closing the door firmly behind her, leaving Matthew completely in shock. He wouldn’t have been able to follow her even if he wanted to, his body seemed to have grown roots and anchored him to the spot.

  ‘She doesn’t love me,’ he muttered to himself, but immediately he knew it was a lie. Selina did love him—now Priscilla had voiced the words it was hard to deny it.

  He rocked back in his chair, pushing it away from his desk and balancing on just the two back legs. The question he really needed to consider was how did he feel about Selina. He cared for her, enjoyed time spent in her company, desired her as he’d never desired another woman before. He thought of her smile, her laugh, the little pensive expression she got when trying to work something out. The idea of losing her, of never seeing her again, made him feel sick.

  ‘I love her,’ he said, shaking his head with disbelief.

  Standing quickly, he crossed to the window, looking out over the formal gardens. Priscilla was right. Manresa House would be a cold shell without Selina’s presence, the girls miserable and he...well, he would still be lonely and shut off from the world.

&
nbsp; For a moment he felt a panic rising inside him. He’d never planned for anything like this, never thought he would let someone close to him. Now Selina was there in his heart he didn’t know what to do. He felt all the familiar doubts bubbling up, the thought he would let her down, that somehow he wasn’t worthy.

  ‘Enough,’ he said firmly. He’d allowed the past to rule him for far too long. He was a different man from the eighteen-year-old lad who’d been bullied by his father into a marriage he hadn’t wanted. This decision was all his own.

  He was going to marry her.

  Matthew almost stalked out of the room to find her right away, but he held himself back. This would be Selina’s one and only proposal, if all went to plan. That meant he had to do it right, make it something they would always remember. A little time and a little planning, that was what he needed, even if part of him wanted to run to the schoolroom and secure her promise immediately.

  Chapter Twenty

  Selina frowned. The girls were up to something. For the past day they hadn’t stopped whispering and throwing glances in her direction. She knew it wouldn’t be a prank, they were far too well behaved for anything mischievous, but she couldn’t work out what they were planning.

  ‘I’m dying in here,’ Theodosia suddenly declared, dramatically putting her hand to her forehead and flopping back in her chair.

  Selina had to suppress a smile.

  ‘We’re only on page two,’ she said, gesturing to the slim volume of poetry on the desk between the two girls.

  ‘I think Theodosia needs a break. Some fresh air,’ Priscilla said quickly.

  ‘It’s rather cold out and windy,’ Selina said, eyeing the leaves blowing across the garden in the wind out of the window.

  ‘What is it you always say? A little wind never hurt anyone.’

  ‘I suppose we could go for a brisk walk about the gardens.’

  The girls eyed each other and Selina knew whatever they were planning was about to come to fruition.