She had not remarked that it had been closed with an unfamiliar seal, as if a heavy signet ring had been applied to the wafer. But as soon as she broke it, this curious detail did strike her, causing her hands to falter in their task.
The handwriting, too, was unfamiliar. This did not surprise her, for she did not expect to recognize the hands of all her neighbors. What it did do at once was to comfort her on Romeo's score, for she had seen his writing too many times not to know it.
Then, instantly, a delicate sketch of two swans at the top of the page, their necks curved into the shape of a valentine, caught her eye. The dear familiarity of the words, even if they were in the current tongue and not the ancient form she had memorized, set her pulse to fluttering wildly. The knowledge that the poem could not have been reproduced without painstaking memory brought tears into her eyes, so that she could hardly read.
“Most suitors choose their love by chance,
Yet, I disdain to follow such a dance,
But take my wisdom from the birds above,
To plight my troth instead to truest love,
That this one year shall turn to life.
When Valentine shall be my wife."
Selina did not need to see Richard's signature at the bottom to know who the note was from, but she could not keep herself from moving her thumb over it lightly.
Augustus broke in. “What does it say, and who it is from?"
Selina's speech was hampered by a painful lump in her throat, but, when she found that she could speak, she turned to Mr. Croft instead. “Mr. Croft,” she said, trying to still the quivering in her voice, “is the—the gentleman who wrote this missive still lodging with you?"
“Aye, that he surely is, mistress. And would you believe it,” he said eagerly, “if I told ye that Mr. Lint, the one what was here before, is the Earl of Linton, as sure as I live and breathe? Ye could have knocked me and the missus both down with a feather when we saw him, what with his coach and all them uppity servants of his."
Selina thrust her chin high in the air, feeling as if a sudden breath of life had filled her breast. “Actually, yes, Mr. Croft. Both my brother and I have been aware of that fact for many days now.”
So, Richard had returned to Uckfield, as himself. But, Selina cautioned herself, she must not be quick to think he had done it for her, not when, if she was wrong, it would hurt her far, far too much.
“Do you have any idea why his lordship has come back to Uckfield?”
She almost hated herself for asking, but Mr. Croft, when he answered, gave her a knowing smile that made her heart want to leap with hope.
“He didn't mention his reasons to me exactly, I'm sure, being as how it's not rightly my business yet. But—” Mr. Croft touched the rim of his hat as he made his farewell—"I do suspect that his lordship'll be along o’ here in the morning with his valentine's gift. Good evening to you, Mistress Payley."
The next morning, Selina refused to be caught waiting for Richard to claim his valentine. A night of worry, mixed with purposely stoked anger and a fair share of wistful thinking, had convinced her that she would be the greatest of all possible fools to pin any hope upon his message. That the Earl of Linton would want to marry someone who, though a lady by her bloodlines, was in reality nothing more than a miserable country lass, with the rough hands to prove it, and, moreover, of a size to terrify a horse, was patently absurd. Besides, if Richard had wished to marry her, he might have asked her any time those three weeks he had practically lived at The Grange.
In the mean time, the eggs must be gathered, the pig fed, and the cow milked, even it was Valentine's Day morning.
Selina set off for the chicken coop with purposeful steps, which slowed as the thought crossed her mind that Richard might not have had a good opportunity to express his feelings. She and he had been interrupted at a rather unfortunate time. And Selina had to admit that she might have made such a declaration nearly impossible by the attitude she had shown him the previous week. It was even probable that he had begun to think she would prefer to receive an offer from Romeo Fancible.
Remembering the wantonness of her behavior on the morning he had left, however, she thought he had likely been disabused of his ignorance on that score.
With this last thought in her head, she found it hard to go about her work without jumping at the slightest sound upon the drive. She could not help envisioning what might happen if Richard should indeed decide to claim his valentine.
By mid-morning, when she had returned to the house and he had not yet come, Selina was in a rousing temper. So much so, that when Lucas came to the door to ask if he might have his monthly pay, he was forced to retreat without uttering a word. And even Augustus, who had perceived his sister's agitation at breakfast and had a better notion of its cause, had chosen to work in the farther-most orchard.
'Selina—who, by this time, had begun to curse all men roundly—glanced outside her bedroom window only a few minutes later and found the Earl of Linton sitting on a bench beside the barn, deep in conversation with her brother. He had left what appeared to be a luxurious traveling coach outside the gate, which explained her failure to hear its approach. He and Augustus must have walked up from the orchard, and had been sitting there, she knew not how long.
Richard was dressed in a dark gray morning coat which fit his shoulders to within a fraction of an inch. A high-crowned beaver sat stylishly upon his head. Wellington boots, with an impossible shine, nearly reached to his knees, and a pair of pale gray inexpressibles hugged his thighs.
All these details came to Selina in an instant. In the next, she was racing for her dressing table with a cry of panic. Giving an anxious look in the mirror, she took up her brush and began to thrash her hair to dislodge the dust of the morning's work, all the while wondering why Richard would speak to her brother instead of to her. She could not think clearly enough to answer her own question, not when her knees were quaking and her arms trembled as if she had just picked a ton of cherries.
By the time Richard finally knocked upon her door, Selina was able to descend the stairs with clean hands and face, a fresher dress, and a fair semblance of composure. She held her chin high in the air and carried her skirt delicately before her. She did not rush, because it would be most unseemly to rush, and because, besides, Richard had taken his own good time in coming.
The sight of his handsome face when she opened the door to him, the way his eyes lit upon seeing her, and the gravity of his demeanor tamed the rest of her fury. But Selina could not allow herself to show how very glad she was to see him. Whether he had schemed against them or not, Richard had hidden his true identity from them, and for that he must earn his forgiveness.
Richard removed his hat and bowed. Resisting the urge to throw herself into his arms, Selina stepped back and allowed him to cross her threshold.
“Your lordship.” Mindful of the dignity she must preserve, she curtsied.
“Selina.” In a voice with a husky edge, Richard claimed her attention before she could invite him into her mother's parlor. “I have just asked your brother for leave to pay my addresses to you."
“You have?” It had not occurred to her that he might seek Augustus's permission. She was not sure how she felt about this, so she refused to meet his eye.
At the thought of her brother, however, Selina recalled the injury that had been done to him, and the habits of a lifetime intervened. She fought the urge to hear Richard's declaration and bristled at him instead. “I wonder that you would choose such a course, my lord, when he believes you to have wronged him.”
Richard winced. “Perhaps I stood less in fear of his response than I did of your tongue.” His teasing note held more than a hint of truth.
At the reference to her temper, Selina let it flare. “And perhaps you should have, my lord, for as his sister I must see that no harm comes to him, which means I should never allow him to be bamboozled by a stranger. Which means I should have—"
“Ha
nged me from the rafters like a ham?” Richard's eyes held a glint. “Sold me out of hand to the glue manufacturer?” He stepped threateningly towards her. “Or had me rendered down for fat and baked into a pudding?"
As Richard steadily stalked her, Selina backed into a corner, uncertain of his mood. His eyes were fierce with passion, and she wondered if he had decided he would take no more lectures from her.
Then, she caught a glimpse of something deep inside them, when his voice turned soft. “Or would you have your way with me? I can assure you, I had far rather choose that punishment."
Selina heard herself whimper with the desire to embrace him and erase that fearful longing in his eyes.
“Oh, Selina, I've been so afraid you would never forgive me."
“I would, but for Augustus—"
“Your brother knows now that I had no other desire than to help him."
She started hopefully at his words.
Richard took both her hands in his. “I would have come to you much sooner,” he said, raising them one at a time to his lips, “but there was something your brother had a right to be told, and I wanted to take care of that business first."
“What business was that?”
“I shall tell it all to you in good time, but first I've come to claim my valentine."
“That was—is—a very foolish custom, my lord."
“I do not consider it so.”
His moist breath was warming her fingers, taking away the sting of all her years of work. Selina was ashamed to note the way her hands had gone limp inside his, as if they had a mind of their own. She knew she should press him to justify his deeds first, but these stronger urgings had been so long denied.
Richard ran his lips across her fingers in a trail of soft kisses. Selina wanted nothing more than to close her eyes and sway blindly towards him.
“I mean to claim you for my own, you know."
“You do?” Selina could not make herself resist any longer. “For the year, you mean?”
“For this year, and forever.” He drew her close until her breasts nearly touched his chest. “I would have brought you a gift from London, if I had known the day it was I set out for Uckfield. But I've hardly known my own name, my mind has been so consumed with you. By the way you looked with your hair spread out on the hay, by the way your eyes always sparkle with life, by the enticing scent of you."
He dipped his face to her neck and breathed deeply, causing a thrill to run down her spine.
“Then,” he went on, with his lips buried near her ear, “when I conspired to make you my valentine and had to come up with a gift, I thought of one thing only. Just one very pitiful thing, indeed. But by all rights, Selina, it is already yours."
“What could that be?” she asked. The way Richard talked mystified her, but she never wanted him to stop.
“My family name.” Richard pulled back for a minute to gaze into her eyes. “You are, indeed, descended from Anne Trevelyan, my dear. Moreover, Augustus is my rightful heir."
Shock made Selina's knees go weak, but Richard was there to catch her. His arms went about her and stayed.
“But—your cousin—"
“My cousin Wilfrid is a liar and a cheat. I already thought him beneath my notice, but when I sent him to Cuckfield to search the church registry for you, I had no idea how despicable he truly was.
“You were right to suspect that he'd destroyed whatever evidence he could find. I got that much confession from him. And, now, I know why. Your ancestor, Miss Anne Trevelyan, was sister to the lady through whom Wilfrid stakes his claim as my heir."
Selina must have looked as stunned as she felt, for after waiting for her response, which never came, Richard led her into the parlor and pressed her onto the couch. Before continuing, he took a place beside her, his hand still holding hers.
“You see, love, earldoms such as mine are so ancient as to be baronies of writ. They descend to heirs general, which means they can be inherited through the female line, provided there is no male heir. If I were to die, Wilfrid and Augustus could both claim my honors, although Augustus's claim should take precedence since his female ancestor was the elder of the two sisters."
“And your cousin knew all that?” Selina understood in part now. “But how could he, when we did not know ourselves?"
Richard's gaze intensified. “There is much more to the story than you know. I am afraid he learned it from your father, though I doubt your father ever realized the stakes that were riding on their connection."
“My father!"
“Yes. They met at Cambridge. And, your father, unaware as I was of just how base Wilfrid's character is, announced to Wilfrid upon meeting him that they were distant cousins. When Wilfrid discovered what such a relationship would mean to his own expectations, he did what he could to disavow the connection. Even going so far as to discredit your father entirely in the eyes of his peers."
Selina did not need to see the sympathy in Richard's eyes to guess what he meant. A realization was dawning, bringing with it a mixture of feelings, ranging from the deepest sorrow to the purest rage. It left her awash with impotence, that she should have been so helpless to restore her father's honor in his lifetime.
Richard told her then about the incident at Cambridge, when Wilfrid had accused her father of cheating to force him from society, so that, in effect, William Payley would never be heard if he made a claim to Richard's fortune and title. Such a wealth of emotion as this story aroused could not be experienced without its share of tears, but Selina's feelings were helped greatly by the way Richard cradled her in his arms. Before long, her uppermost concern was that she had stained his shirtfront with so much blubbering.
“That's quite all right, love. You may blubber all you like,” Richard assured her. “I doubt you will have much need in future to do so. I mean to see personally that you do not."
These words brought back the proposal he had made her earlier, which had a wondrous effect upon her sorrow.
“But—” Selina did not know where Augustus stood now, and she would never let her own needs come before his—"you say your cousin has destroyed the evidence of a marriage. Doesn't that mean that Wilfrid will still inherit?"
Richard sighed. “It would be hard to prove Augustus's superior right to the Garter's satisfaction without a public and legal confession from Wilfrid, which, I can assure you, we are not likely to get. And, as my worthless cousin has pointed out to me, if it comes to a question of his word against mine, the Regent, who happens to be an intimate of his, is unlikely to throw his considerable weight in my corner."
“Then what can we do?” Selina could not bear the thought that the man who had ruined her father's life would win this underhanded battle, as well.
While they'd been talking, she had stayed nestled inside Richard's arms, and now he gave her a squeeze.
“Oh, I think we have more than one ace to play,” he said.
When Selina peered hopefully up at him, she found he was grinning. “I've already informed Wilfrid of my intention to adopt Augustus, and though he cannot inherit my title, I mean to settle at least one piece of property on him immediately. Then, if it comes to a question of one or the other of them inheriting, I will be sure to leave the bulk of my estate to your brother. You need never worry about his welfare again."
“Then, he can go to Eton?"
“To Eton and Oxford and beyond. Whatever the boy wants."
“Oh, Richard!” Selina saw no reason now to show restraint. She turned within his embrace and threw her arms about his neck.
All her many years of worry were ended, though she could not fully grasp yet the enormity of that fact. Augustus, who had been her companion, her brother and child—all the world to her—would at last get a part, a very large part, of what he deserved.
Which was what made it difficult, a few minutes later, for Selina to express her remaining dissatisfaction.
“It does seem unfair,” she ventured, distracted by the tickle o
f Richard's lips near her ear, “that Wilfrid should come out of this at all a winner. So grossly unfair—are you sure there is there nothing you might do to keep him from inheriting?"
“Well...” Richard held himself away, and a calculating smile touched his lips. “There might be one thing I could do, but I would need your assistance."
“Anything, Richard,” she exclaimed eagerly, bouncing up in his arms. “Do you mean to call him out, for I'm sure he deserves it, though—” a thought came to her—"of course, I would not want any harm to come to you.” She frowned. “But I do not think he has the look of a gentleman who would know how to fight well, do you? Perhaps you could force him to call you out, so the choice of weapons would be yours? I realize there might be consequences of the law to be dealt with, but if you ran him through with your sword, I could be right on the spot with a carriage and we could—"
“Flee for the channel?” Richard laughed unrestrainedly. “I might have known you would think of a violent solution.” He gave her his deepest grin. “But that was not precisely what I had in mind."
“No?” Selina was ashamed to feel disappointment. If it were her place, she would call Wilfrid out in an instant; but he was Richard's cousin, and Richard had a right to solve this his own way.
“No. I was thinking of something much more pleasurable."
The sudden heat in his voice warmed her long before she understood. A curious leap of her heart made her raise her eyes to his.
Richard gazed back at her like a starving man who's been lingering outside a banquet hall for too long.
“You said you would do anything?” he said, bringing his lips closer to hers.
Selina gulped and promised, “Yes, Richard, I would."
“Then, we must see how quickly we can be married and how many little Trevelyans we can place in Wilfrid's way."
The simple solution struck her, and her own foolishness for not seeing it made her laugh just as Richard covered her mouth with his. Selina discovered just how much a kiss could improve upon the thrill of laughter.
A Country Affair Page 17