by Anne Ireland
She thought that if he asked her to marry him, she would immediately tell him why it was impossible, but if he did not speak, then she would keep her secret. She was finishing her breakfast when Paul came in, and she gave him a shy smile. He nodded pleasantly, but she was aware of an odd reserve in him that made her wonder what had changed him. Earlier, he had seemed intent on courting her, but now it was as if they had gone back to where they were before they left Bath.
“Has the viscount left?”
“Yes. Did you wish to speak with him?”
“Oh no. I think I have said all that was due,” Hester said.
“He will be returning shortly. I have invited him to stay. You will have opportunity enough to speak with him then if you wish.”
Hester was silent. Was Paul angry with her? Had Richard Mortimer said something to him? Surely not? And yet there was a change. It was in her mind to ask if something was the matter, but at that moment, she heard voices outside the breakfast room and then Charlotte entered.
“Cousin!” she cried and leaped to her feet. “You are early.” Charlotte seldom rose before eleven.
“I was anxious about you, dearest Hester. Those wicked men! What did they do to you?”
“Nothing very terrible,” Hester said and touched her chin. It was still a little tender, but the bruise had faded. “I was rendered unconscious for a few hours, but otherwise, they treated me kindly enough.”
“They did not—” Charlotte stopped abruptly as she saw Paul. “I must thank you for your prompt action, Captain Crawford. I have been out of my mind with worry over my cousin, and now she is safe thanks to you.”
“I was not alone,” Paul said and his eyes were on Hester’s face. “Viscount Mortimer saw it happen as you know. He followed and left messages for me. We were to have attempted the rescue together, but Hester saved us the trouble by escaping.”
“You escaped?” Charlotte stared at her. “Oh, my dear! What a thing! You were very brave and clever.”
“It was almost too easy,” Hester said. “I played the kind of trick a girl might on her governess and slipped out when he went to wake me for breakfast. I was lucky . . . unless . . .”
“What are you thinking, Hester?” Paul was suddenly alert as he saw the look in her eyes. “Have you remembered something more?”
“I have wondered if I was meant to escape. It did not occur to me at first, but now I am wondering. It was not me they meant to take, but Geraldine—though they still meant to use me. Unless he changed his mind.”
“Why should he do that?”
Hester frowned and shook her head. “I do not know. It would not be sensible of him, would it? His plan was to lure you in and kill you. By letting me go, he abandoned that hope.”
“Someone who cared for your good opinion might decide it was the lesser of two evils—particularly if he did not wish you to die too.”
“This is all so terrifying,” Charlotte said and shuddered. “I do not know what your mother would have said to me if anything had happened to you, Hester.”
Hester shook her head. She could not think that her mother would care very much either way, but she did not contradict her cousin.
“Well, since I am unharmed, there is no necessity for her to know.”
“Oh, but I wrote to her immediately, and so did the Marchioness,” Charlotte replied. “I have had word that she is on her way here and should arrive tomorrow afternoon at the latest.”
Hester had a sinking feeling inside. The last thing she needed was the imminent arrival of her mother, but there was nothing she could do. If Mrs. Weston had decided to come here, nothing would stop her. At least it would save Hester the trouble of telling Captain Crawford that she was not worthy of him: her mother would do that for her.
She rose from the table, her head high. “Would it be possible for me to go riding later, Captain Crawford? I shall naturally keep Charlotte company this morning, but I would like to ride this afternoon if it is possible.”
“Yes, of course, Hester.” He looked at her in an odd way. “I should like to accompany you, but unfortunately I have business that will take me elsewhere this afternoon. However, I shall tell the groom to be ready by two o’clock, and he will accompany you. You will do me the favor of not leaving the estate. I have men patrolling the boundaries and know you to be safe here, but beyond that, I cannot be certain.” His expression was grim, angry.
“Yes, of course,” Hester replied. “I hope I am not being a trouble to you, sir?”
“You could never be that,” he said, and for an instant, the caressing look was back in his eyes. “Forgive me for not accompanying you—perhaps tomorrow?”
“Yes, perhaps,” Hester said and smiled. “Yes, I should like that very much.”
For a moment, she remembered their wild ride when his arms were about her, holding her pressed against his chest, the heat of his body warming her, making her tremble with longing. She knew a spiral of desire deep within her, melting her body, heating her cheeks as she realized how wanton her thoughts were. It would not do! He would turn from her in disgust if he could read her mind, for it would confirm her wickedness.
“Have you eaten?” she asked her cousin, turning the conversation. “May I pour you some tea or chocolate?”
“I broke my fast first thing,” Charlotte said. “For the moment, all I want is to hear about your escape, my dearest. Come upstairs with me while I tidy myself, and we can talk.”
Hester allowed herself to be drawn away. She resisted the temptation to look back at Paul, which was a pity for she might have seen a wistful look in his eyes that would have told her that he too was regretting the interruption to their talk.
Hester’s ride that afternoon was uneventful. She enjoyed the exercise, but the magic of her ride with Paul was missing, and she thought wistfully that soon enough all this would be but a memory. Her mother would soon put a stop to any dreams she might have that somehow Paul would understand what had happened, that he would not blame her too much—would be able to forgive and forget, to accept her as his wife.
It was foolish to allow herself such dreams, of course. Her father had made it clear that any decent man would feel only disgust for a girl who had behaved so wantonly. And the feelings she was experiencing when near Paul recently, the dreams she had begun to have of being in his arms, in his bed, were so abandoned that she knew her father was right. She was not a modest young woman! She was a wicked girl, and no man would love her once he knew her secret.
She returned to the house after her ride, changed into a fresh gown and went down to join the other ladies. Charlotte and her hostess were sitting together and seemed to be getting on like a house on fire judging from their smiles as she entered.
“You look beautiful, my love,” Lady Longstanton said. “Such fresh color in your cheeks. I am glad you enjoy riding. It was a passion with me in my youth, and I sometimes ride even now. We shall be able to ride together sometimes, Hester—and I must teach you to drive. I have my own pair, you know. Longstanton says that I am the best female whip he knows. He taught me years ago, and is very proud of that fact. He says I have better hands than Paul, though you must not tell him so.”
Hester laughed and joined them as tea was brought in. They talked of inconsequential things until it was time to go up and change for dinner.
Charlotte followed Hester into her room, looking at her thoughtfully. “The marchioness seems to think it inevitable that you will marry her son, Hester. May I ask if he has spoken yet?”
“No, not yet,” Hester replied, her cheeks warm. “I think he may—but he has not done so yet.”
“Have you thought about your answer?”
“I should like to accept but you know that I must tell him first.”
“Is that really necessary, dearest? I know you want to do what is right—but sometimes secrets are best kept to oneself.”
“I cannot marry him unless he can accept what has happened in the past,” Hester said firmly.
“But I think that Mama will not allow it. She is sure to do something to stop it when she comes—do you not think so?”
“No, I do not believe that will be the case,” Charlotte said, surprising her. “Your mother cannot but be aware that it is an excellent match. I believe she has more sense than to spoil your chances of becoming Lady Crawford.”
“Lady . . .” Hester was thoughtful. “I had not considered that aspect. Paul does not use his title, does he?”
“He prefers the title he earned as an officer,” Charlotte said and smiled. “I find that rather admirable—though of course he will one day become the tenth marquis, and as his wife, you would be addressed in the proper manner.”
“Oh, Charlotte,” Hester said, “as if I cared for that—but it does make me wonder if I might be the cause of scandal to such a family. It would be truly dreadful if I married Paul and then it came out.”
“Why should it?” Charlotte held out her hand and Hester took it, feeling as if she needed some comfort. “No one but your family knows what happened, dearest—and even we do not know the name of the gentleman concerned.”
“No—but he does and . . .” She took a deep breath. “Supposing he used it to blackmail me?”
“He would not?” Charlotte looked shocked as Hester was silent. “You have seen him recently? Tell me who this scoundrel is and I shall talk to him.”
“That would only make him angry,” Hester said. “I am not saying that he would speak, but he might and that would be terrible. I had thought that perhaps I might tell Paul and he would accept the truth, but . . .” She shook her head. “I do not know what to do for the best, cousin.”
“Well, you can do nothing until Paul asks you,” Charlotte said in a bracing tone. “If you insist that you must tell him the truth, then perhaps that will be for the best. I am sure that he will be able to set your mind at rest.”
“Yes, of course,” Hester said sure that it was hopeless for Paul would not risk bringing such a terrible scandal into his family. He might not care for titles, but he must care for the old and honorable name of his family. She lifted her head, forcing herself to smile. “Well, I am no worse off for having faced the truth, because I always knew in my heart that it could never be.”
Charlotte shook her head at her. She could see that Hester was breaking her heart over this business, but there was nothing more she could do or say for the moment. She could only pray that things would turn out happily for the girl she loved.
On the surface of things, the evening passed very pleasantly. Both Charlotte and Hester performed a piece on the pianoforte for the pleasure of their hosts, and Lady Longstanton sang for them, a very pretty, amusing ditty that made them all laugh. However, Charlotte was not the only one to notice the occasional sadness in Hester’s eyes.
* * * *
It was Paul who felt the most concern, for he could not help wondering if perhaps Hester was missing a certain gentleman. He would have liked to speak to her and discover her feelings on the matter, but he had given his word and was therefore honor bound to keep his silence, which did not improve his own mood.
After dinner, he and his father withdrew to the billiard room to play for an hour or so, joining the ladies in time to drink a dish of tea with them. He reminded Hester that they were to ride in the morning, smiled, and said goodnight to her, leaving her to go up to her room feeling more uncertain than ever. She could not but be aware of a change in his manner and, remembering that he had been speaking to Richard Mortimer alone, her fears of betrayal made for a sleepless night.
However, in the morning, he was everything that she could wish for in a perfect host, helping her to mount and making sure that she was comfortable before they set out. Once they began to ride, it was as if all constraints had fallen away, and they galloped side by side, laughing at each other in shared pleasure. Paul glanced at her, seeing the pleasure in her face, knowing that like him she would have liked their ride to go on much longer, but also that he had to get her home. When he helped her down, he looked into her eyes and thought he could see his own longing reflected there.
“Thank you for a lovely ride,” she said. “You do not know how happy you have made me these past few days. Riding is such a privilege for me and I have loved it so.”
“You speak as thought you think it may end, Paul said, frowning. “I thought you knew that I wish only to please you, Hester?”
“You are very kind . . .” “I hope that we shall . . .” She broke off as a carriage arrived. “Oh, I must go . . .”
Paul let her go with a smothered curse. He had been a damned fool to give his word to Mortimer—after all, everything was fair in love and war, and he was damned if he was going to lose her to a man who was not exactly honorable, even though he had helped to save Hester. Yet, it seemed that he had lost his opportunity for the moment, because a lady had descended from the carriage and he knew at once that things would not be quite the same. Her voice rose on a whining note almost at once, and he saw Hester’s face change color, understanding without being told that she was already receiving a lecture for something that was not her fault. It made him angry, and he wanted to rush to Hester’s aid but knew that as yet he did not have the right.
“Good morning, Mrs. Weston,” Paul said extending his hand to her. “I am very glad to make your acquaintance.”
“And I yours, sir—or perhaps I should say Lord Crawford?”
“As you wish, Mrs. Weston, though I am usually known as Captain Crawford, or Paul to my friends.” He gave her a smile he hoped would melt her heart towards him. “And now I am sure you must be tired—perhaps you would like to come in and meet my mother, who will be happy to see you in our home and will, I am sure, make you comfortable?”
“How could I fail to be comfortable in such a house as this? As I was telling Hester, it has been a terrible journey, and I feel as if I have been shaken to bits. I fear that one of my headaches is coming on.”
“Then you must ask my mother to order you a tisane for our housekeeper makes the most marvellous cures, as I am certain Mama will tell you. Let me take you to her now.” Paul offered his arm, which she took with every sign of pleasure, glancing over her shoulder at Hester.
“I see you have been riding, Hester. I dare say it is the reason you are looking so much better. That awful pallor has gone.”
Paul resisted the temptation to jump to Hester’s defence though he sent her a look of indignation.
Accompany the others into the house, she was met by her hostess who beamed at them all and swept Mrs. Weston into a perfumed embrace.
“How lovely that you could come,” she said. “I have been looking forward to meeting you so much, my dear Araminta. I hope I may call you that for we were once friends I believe—though a long time ago. If you recall, we met at Lady Hereford’s ball before my engagement party. And then I was whisked off to the country, and you married Mr. Weston and somehow we have not met since then—which is a great shame, but something that shall be instantly repaired. Come up to my private sitting room, and we shall have a lovely gossip—unless you would prefer to rest after your terrible ordeal. I always find travelling so exhausting, do you not agree?”
Hester watched as her mother was whisked off upstairs without a murmur of protest. “I must go and change,” Hester said turning to Paul, who had lingered in the hall admiring his mother’s technique. He had seen difficult guests become kittens under his mother’s wing before this but it never ceased to amuse him for she had them eating out of her hand in no time. “Thank you for being kind to Mama. She does suffer a little with her headaches.”
“It was my pleasure,” Paul said. “It is Geraldine’s dance tomorrow. I believe that Richard Mortimer may return in time to attend.
“Oh . . . . well, if you invited him I suppose . . .” Hester hesitated. She looked at him oddly before running up the stairs. Paul watched her go, suppressing the desire to call her back and tell her that he wanted her to marry him very soon. There was
only one more day to wait and then he could speak and retain his honor.
* * * *
Alone in her room, Hester was allowed time enough to change into a fresh gown and tidy herself before a maid arrived to summon her. She was requested to attend on her mother, which she did immediately. Mrs. Weston was scolding a maid who could not find something, but she stopped as soon as her daughter walked in and shooed the maid away.
“You may come back in twenty minutes, girl. I wish to speak to my daughter.”
Hester braced herself for she was very afraid that she would be in trouble once they were alone. She waited for the tirade to begin and was surprised that her mother stared at her thoughtfully for a moment.
“Well, Hester,” she said at last. “What have you to tell me?”
“I have had a lovely time with Charlotte,” Hester replied. “Tomorrow we attend Geraldine’s dance. It is her birthday, and she is to be engaged to the man she loves.”
“Yes, well, it is good that you have made friends with the gel. She is Lord Crawford’s cousin, and it will be pleasant for you to have an acquaintance in town when you marry.”
“What are you saying, Mama?” Hester’s heart caught with fright. “Captain Crawford has not yet asked me to marry him. I do not think we should assume that he will do so.”
“Rubbish!” her mother said in a chiding tone. “It is just like you, Hester, to see the worst in every situation. Lady Longstanton is convinced that it is only a matter of time before her son takes a wife, and she likes you very much.”
“But, Mama, you know that Papa said I was never to marry.”
“Your father is dead, Hester. I always thought him too harsh over that . . . business. I think we should put the past behind us and forget it ever happened. Only a few of us ever knew the truth after all. Your great-aunt and your father are dead, and neither Charlotte nor I will betray you. Dear Robert knew only that you were in disgrace—so there is no one to betray you.”