He hitched his overcoat up rather sulkily. “There is nothing I can say to improve your thoughts of me?”
She did not answer while staring at him for several long moments. Her eyes were beautiful, but they could be cold, too, he realized, like frost on a windowpane. Yet, for a moment, she had been warm in his arms. He would berate himself later for failing to explain his feelings to her. But for now, he was insulted beyond measure, partly because no one had denied him much of anything in all his life. This was a first.
“I’ll go,” he told her without moving. Though he was angrier than he had ever been, a part of him realized that her injury was the main reason she was reacting this way. To her, it was much more probable that he was trying to take advantage of her or make a joke of her.
She shook her head at him. “You are simply bored here in Pritchford. That is the problem. You should go on your tour of the continent as you suggested, as you long to do anyway. My place is here, grieving my mother.”
“Then I’ll take my leave.”
Just as he turned his back, he heard her say, her voice full of anguish. “You shall be fine.” Then she whispered the words he had been sure she had forgotten, proving she remembered their first meeting. “I’m sure you shall be just as you were.”
He would have gone back to her upon this realization, but there was one key difference between the time he said those words then and when she repeated them now. He had spoken in hope; her words dripped with derision.
* * *
5
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* * *
“She doesn’t take me seriously.”
* * *
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CHAPTER FIVE
Homecoming
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Pritchford, Yorkshire
Pritchford Place
One Year Later
“So, you’re back.” Julia’s voice was dry as she arched her eyebrow.
“Yes, when one receives a letter that his father is ill, he tends to make his way back to Calais and take a boat back to England as quickly as possible,” Benjamin replied drolly. He sat indolently, his arms thrown over the back of the divan as he watched his sister. She was beautiful but bored, traits that had marked her for as long as he could remember. She was always chaffing for more.
In truth, returning from his Grand Tour two and a half years early had not been an easy feat. He had to make his way backward, from Italy to Paris and then to Calais, where he took a boat to back to England, Dover specifically, then to London, finally Ripon, and then Pritchford.
He had also been surprised to feel happiness upon looking out the carriage window and spying Pritchford Place in the distance. The massive estate sat on a pretty piece of land, a hill that made it all the more picturesque. The architecture, like the extensive gardens, was done up in the French style but with a certain English charm that made him supremely glad that this was his home. As they passed the stables, he thought of his horse, Neptune, and found himself remembering even his first pony, which he had insisted on naming Teddy, something that embarrassed him to no end now. In his opinion, there was no grander residence than that of Pritchford Place.
Honestly, looking back, it seemed the tour was doomed before it began. His best friend, Shep, had abandoned him upon meeting the woman who would become his future wife. Despite Benjamin’s arguments that they were both too young to marry and that they had three years of freedom ahead of them to live as wildly as they pleased, Shep had not been moved. In fact, he had accused Benjamin that his argument was not based on Shep’s wellbeing but a reaction to a certain woman breaking his heart.
Shep had been right. Still, they had been friends for a long time, so he had stood with Shep before leaving for the tour.
“Oh, were you unable to finish your incredible trip then?” Julia asked sweetly.
“I only made it to Paris, Rome, Venice, and Florence. I had to skip the Netherlands and Germany. I never saw the Alps.” He grinned. “Shep saw them on his honeymoon and said they were lovely.”
“Poor you.” Then she smacked him lightly on the back of his head. “And who cares what Shep says?” she continued bitterly. “His sweet little wife probably froze at the first sight of snow.”
“Must you hate Shep so? You have been fighting with each other since childhood.”
“Yes,” Julia replied simply. She smacked him again lightly. “I must.”
“Julia,” their mother cried sharply from the doorway. “Must you act so impertinently? Your governesses have taught you far better than this. Although, goodness knows you ran a fair number of them off.”
“I’m sorry, Mama.” She bowed her head but not before stepping on her brother’s shoe and pressing down as hard as she could.
“Benjamin. Your father will see you now,” their mother informed him. All his life, his mother had been the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, except for that brief moment in time when she insisted on wearing that awful turban. Only in recent years had Julia surpassed her. But there was still a certain glamour to the Countess of Wembley, the way she walked and held her shoulders. Every movement was a measure of economy and grace. But something seemed to have shifted. The pallor to her face was new, as were the worry lines on her forehead. She walked just as gracefully as ever, but it no longer seemed effortless. His year away and his father’s illness the last few months must have taken its toll. Guilt ate away at Benjamin’s stomach.
Benjamin found his father sitting up in bed. Still, he wasn’t used to seeing his father in bed at all. “It’s my heart,” his father said without preamble. “They say the same thing happened to my grandfather. You should thank God you take after your mother.” His mouth smiled humorlessly. “How were your travels?”
Benjamin did not know how to explain what it had been like to see the Colosseum and the Forum, how he had stood in the middle of the Pantheon and looked up at the hole in the ceiling as dreary rain slipped through. He definitely did not know how to explain that the whole time he had been away, he had to consciously push away thoughts of Catherine. Though he had a chaperone, a Bear Leader, as the man was called, he’d found ways around him. He had been set on seeing as many women as possible in as many countries as possible but found that every time he looked at another, he thought of Catherine.
Instead, he saw the sights, drank and gambled when it suited him. When he was feeling particularly morose, he could not help but think of Catherine. She had never left the village, because she didn’t think she had anything to offer the world. But he knew differently, however she felt about him. What would it be like if he could be the one to show her?
One night, he woke from a dream of taking her on a honeymoon to Paris. He had dressed her in the finest Parisian fashions, and they had been together as man and wife. His hands traced every part of her skin. He woke from the dream abruptly in a cold sweat and had not slept well the rest of the night.
“It made me realize how very big the world is and how very small I am. But also, there is a certain sameness with the people you meet, no matter where they are from,” Benjamin said at last. “After all, we are all human at the end of the day.”
His father closed his eyes briefly and this time gave him a true smile. “That’s exactly what a tour of the continent is supposed to teach you. And tell me, what was your favorite place you visited?”
“Florence, I think. The Duomo, Papa. It was spectacular.” He left out the part where he imagined showing it to Catherine, though it was stupid and she had refused him. See how beautiful the world is, he would say. See how beautiful you are in it. He could even imagine her sarcastic reply.
“I remember. I was able to go before Napoleon started all our troubles,” his father replied. “But now we must talk about more serious things.”
“Papa, you cannot die. I won’t allow it.” Benjamin attempted a joke, but he truly meant it. It had been an annoyance to always hear his father droning abo
ut responsibility, but he could not imagine his life without his father in it. He was a good man, a kind man, the type of man who rose in the middle of the night to visit the victims of a fire, the kind of earl who thought to bring his heir with him so his son could see that with power came responsibility.
“I may live for a very long time still. I may die tomorrow.” His father shrugged and then looked at Benjamin seriously. “Your mother and I have made what peace we can with it. So must you.”
Benjamin swallowed and nodded.
“But that also means that certain responsibilities of the estate will now fall to you. There will be no more trips for a time, no days in London gambling away your allowance, and my tolerance for your womanizing was seriously tested during your time at Oxford.”
“Of course, Papa.” Benjamin had always known this day would come, and that’s exactly why he had so eagerly sought fun. But the truth was, he had not thought of pursuing women since his last conversation with Catherine.
“Your good friend, the Duke of Sermont has settled down and married,” the earl pointed out.
“Yes,” Benjamin admitted uneasily. “I attended his wedding just before I left for my tour.”
The earl tapped his finger to his chin. “I believe it’s time that you turn your eye to the institution of marriage. When I am gone and you are the Earl of Wembley…”
“Papa,” Benjamin interrupted.
“Benjamin.”
“Uncle Robert never married,” Benjamin argued.
“That’s because my brother had the misfortune to be the second son. He purchased a commission in His Majesty’s Army and ended up dying fighting Napoleon at Waterloo. He wasn’t even able to see the man defeated. Would you rather your mother and I had a son before you?” His father met his eye sternly and continued. “You mother has brought me great joy. And it would make me glad to know you have someone by your side who cares about you as you care for her, someone who is able to handle the responsibilities of being a countess.” Benjamin lowered his eyes as his father continued. “Your sister let it slip to me and also your mother that you had dinner at the Watsons before you left for your trip. That, in fact, you visited the family after the good Mrs. Watson died, even providing a physician for them. And that after your last meeting, the tour of the continent, which you had previously been in no rush to begin, became your singular goal.”
He saw his father understood. “She doesn’t take me seriously.”
His father patted his hand in one of his rare moments of physical affection. “Maybe she doesn’t take herself seriously in these matters. Besides, I’ve never known you to give up on something you really wanted, Ben.” His father laid back against the pillow, his face and lips paler than they had been at the beginning of the conversation. “I would like to see you happily married before I go, son. I would like that very much.”
* * *
6
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* * *
Was it possible that she had been mistaken
that no one besides her family could
see past her injury?
* * *
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CHAPTER SIX
A New Point of View
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Pritchford, Yorkshire
Catherine heard the rumors that the Earl of Wembley was ill and that his son, Lord Benjamin, had returned two and half years early from his tour of the continent, which was very unusual and an expensive thing to do. He is a good son, people said. It will be horrible if we lose Earl Wembley, but his son will be kind and good just like him. The townspeople seemed to let go of his reputation for being a rake and his other vices and were proud of the man he was becoming. Catherine kept quiet on the subject and tried to avoid any discussion about him. No one but her father and Jane knew that he had asked to court her, and they did not even know how cruelly she reacted. She had also kept silent on the near kiss, though she thought about it constantly. She was ashamed over her treatment of him but still insulted that he would make a joke of her scars by proposing a courtship. And yet, she could not deny that he had stirred up some feelings in her she had not thought herself capable of having.
Still, it wasn’t in her character to treat someone the way she had that day. She could have turned him down kindly. But the dueling feelings of wanting to be as close to him as possible and far away at the same time confused and befuddled her. Though her father insisted Lord Benjamin’s feelings were real and defended the man’s offer, Catherine still thought it impossible. How could someone as rich, as high in society, as handsome as Lord Benjamin, be interested in her? She was marked, and that fact did not include her other deficiencies, like a modest dowry to make up for her physical imperfections. Why would anyone, especially him, want something so broken?
Knowing he might be back in the area made her uneasy, but she refused to allow her confused feelings over the matter control her life.
Still, she was more than surprised to nearly run into him again at the same corner that she met him more than a year previously. If her mother were still alive, she would claim it was God’s providence that such a thing would happen. But her mother wasn’t alive, and Cat forced herself to swallow the lump in her throat.
He greeted her politely, bowing in unnecessary deference. “Hello, Miss Watson.”
She bowed her head slightly in return. “Lord Benjamin.” At least, she wasn’t a mess this time. Wearing one of her mother’s dresses that had been redone for her, she felt a little more confident than usual. The blue reminded her of a robin’s egg. The robin had been her mother’s favorite bird, and she would point one out whenever she saw it.
“Oh, Cat,” Jane cried as she turned the corner, interrupting the awkward moment between Ben and Cat. “I’m afraid I have mud on my skirts again. I’ll never understand how you walk without getting a smudge on yours. And in slippers, too!” When Jane spotted Benjamin, she greeted him as well, but her greeting was much more enthusiastic than Cat’s had been. She genuinely liked him, so obviously her feelings were much less confused than her sister’s over seeing him.
“I hope these skirts are not mortally wounded like the last time I caught you in such a predicament,” Benjamin joked. Part of his charm, Cat realized, was that he remembered that moment the previous year when they met, that joke that Jane had made. Perhaps he wasn’t so bad. Jane was a soft spot for Cat, and anyone who got on well with her had Cat’s esteem.
With these thoughts in mind, she smiled slightly, which made Benjamin feel like he had won some incredible battle.
“I was actually on my way to visit your father. I wanted to see how he was getting on,” he explained. Benjamin looked into Catherine’s eyes. For a moment, she was transfixed, brought back to ecstasy and the sorrow of the garden last year, before she remembered herself, forcing herself to look away. That he would consider her father after she refused him, also spoke to his character. “May I accompany you…if you are also returning home?” he asked politely. There was a humility about him that was either new or she had not recognized previously.
“Of course!” Jane agreed enthusiastically. “Usually, Papa makes us take the carriage because of Cat’s injuries… Because he worries Cat cannot…”
Cat laid her scarred hand on her younger sister’s shoulder. “I’m perfectly capable of walking. My father is just protective. Since… our mother died, I’ve been insisting he become a little less so.” She looked Benjamin in the eyes and gave him a soft smile. Though the changes in her life had been small in the past year, though she had not traveled the continent as he had, there had been change and not all of it bad.
Benjamin could not deny that it was unusual for Catherine to offer up information to him of all people. It also made sense why the family had kept the carriage and the horses despite the expense all these years. Just as she observed a new humility in him, he noticed it in her as well. Though they did not voice it, both of their gazes wer
e apologetic for what had transpired last year. Though he wished she had no effect on him, that he had forgotten her completely, it pleased him enormously to be the recipient of her smile, and the sight of her blue eyes made his heart flutter.
Jane bounded up on her toes. She seemed to truly enjoy Lord Benjamin’s company. “Cat always tells him that she can walk perfectly well, since they are only scars and scars cannot hurt her any longer.”
A silence filled the air as Jane realized she shouldn’t have said such a thing aloud, and Cat flushed with embarrassment. If they had been alone, if she would have allowed it, he would have brushed his fingers against Cat’s chin. Instead, he met her gaze head on. “Your sister is right. They are just scars.”
Catherine looked at him, a question in her eyes, considering it for the very first time. Did he really mean such a thing? She knew Jane loved her and saw past them. Was it possible that she had been mistaken in her rejection of Lord Benjamin? Was it possible that she had been mistaken that no one besides her family could see past her injury? The embarrassment fled her face, and a small smile began to bloom. Benjamin watched it, pleased to see it and glad that at least indirectly, he had told her how little her scars mattered to him. Of course, if he had not been so wrong-headed last year, he would have told her directly, as it was a fact.
Regency Romance: The Earl’s Unforgettable Flame (CLEAN Historical Romance) (Fire and Smoke) Page 6