Valentine v-4

by Jane Feather

  "Tell me about the Gentlemen," the earl invited, leaning back in his chair, crossing his legs. "I understand you're something of an expert."

  "Most landowners are," she said. "At least along the coast."

  "So…?"

  "You expect me to educate you in local customs, my lord?" There was a bitter tinge to the question.

  "Yes, I do," he said simply. "I expect that… just as I expect you to introduce me to the estate people, show me around the land, and tell me whatever I need to know."

  Theo inhaled sharply, and her fingers tightened around the stem of her glass. "I am to make it easy for a Gilbraith to take over the Belmont inheritance?"

  His hand shot out along the glowing surface of the table, and his fingers closed around her wrist. "Yes," he said softly. "That is exactly what you are going to do, cousin. And shall I tell you why? You're going to do it because you love this house and this land, and you won't be able to endure watching me make mistakes."

  He released his grip and sat back again, his cool gray eyes regarding her over the lip of his glass. "So let us begin with the Gentlemen."

  How did he know that about her? It was true, she wouldn't be able to sit back and watch while he put up the backs of the tenants because he didn't know some small but vital personal detail, or made the wrong decision about a field or a copse because he didn't know the idiosyncracies of the land. The prospect of watching him make a fool of himself should have pleased her – but not at the expense of her land and her people.

  But how had he guessed that?

  "I know a lot more about you, cousin, than you might imagine," he said, as if he'd read her thoughts. He sat forward again, stretching a hand across the table to catch her chin. "I suspect we're alarmingly alike."

  "Never!" she declared with low-voiced ferocity.

  "Except that I seem to be able to control my temper rather better," he said carelessly, half standing so that he could lean forward and reach her mouth with his own.

  She tried to turn her head aside, but his fingers tightened on her chin, and with a curious sinking sensation Theo yielded to a kiss that was rapidly becoming familiar. Except that this time she was aware of a power behind the pressure of his lips on hers and a responding power in her own body that seemed to leap through her veins.

  "There," he said, drawing back with a smile. "Point made, I believe. We'll leave further discussion for a new day, I think. You shall tell me about the Gentlemen when we ride around the estate in the morning. Let's join your mother and sisters."

  He pushed back his chair and came round the table, politely drawing her chair out for her. Theo felt as if she'd been picked up by a tornado, hurled into distant space, and dropped again into a disrupted world where everything was upside down.

  Elinor looked up from her embroidery as they entered the drawing room. "Tea, Lord Stoneridge?"

  "Thank you, ma'am." He took a cup and strolled over to the pianoforte, where Clarissa was sitting at the keyboard. "May I turn the music for you, cousin?"

  She gave him a quick smile. "If you can bear to hear my fumblings, sir."

  He merely smiled, shaking his head in mock reproof for her modesty, and Theo blinked as her sister flushed delicately. It seemed as if he was beginning to resemble Clarry's parfit knight. How many parts could the damnable man play?

  She took her own cup and sat down beside her mother, listening to her sister, who was an accomplished pianist. It was a remarkably domestic scene, she observed acidly to herself, her mother and Emily tranquilly occupied with their embroidery, the soft notes of the piano carrying through the open doors to the terrace, the earl's long fingers turning the sheets of music with perfect timing, his dark head bent close to her sister's brown curls. All it needed was a dog on the hearth and a kitten with a ball of wool.

  Clarissa was persuaded by the earl to sing a folk song, a performance as accomplished as her playing, before she laughingly begged to be excused from any further performance.

  "Cousin Theo, may we hear you?" Stoneridge asked courteously, gesturing to the vacant piano bench.

  Theo shook her head. "You wouldn't enjoy it, my lord. I am an indifferent player at best."

  "But, then, you have other talents." He replaced the lid over the keys and strolled across to the sofa.

  "Indeed, she does, my lord," Emily said swiftly. "No one is as accomplished a rider, for instance, and she has a head for figures that amazes -"

  "Hush, Emily!" Theo jumped up from the sofa, unable to bear another minute of her sister's playing into the hands of this detestable, scheming Gilbraith. "My accomplishments, my lord, are few, and in general have no place in a drawing room." She walked quickly to the open door, stepping onto the terrace to cool her cheeks. Her mother's voice came clearly behind her.

  "I was thinking, Lord Stoneridge, that although it will take us a few days to remove to the dower house, it seems unnecessary for you to be staying in the village. I see no reason why you shouldn't move to the manor in the morning. I'm here to chaperon the girls, and our kinship and present circumstances make your presence perfectly proper."

  No! It was a silent scream of protest. Theo's fingers curled into her palms as she stood in the doorway, staring out into the star-filled night, the lighted room at her back.

  To have him under the same roof… at every meal… to bump into him at every turn. It was impossible. Her mother didn't know what she was suggesting.

  But perhaps she did.

  In despairing fury she heard Lord Stoneridge's graceful thanks and equally graceful acceptance.

  Chapter Four

  The following morning Lady Belmont received a note from Lord Stoneridge: Lady Belmont was to be in no hurry to remove to the dower house. She must remain at Stoneridge Manor until the dower house was furnished and decorated exactly as she wished it to be. He would accept her kind invitation to take up residence at the manor in two days, when his servant and baggage had arrived from London. Until then he was her obedient servant, Stoneridge.

  "Reprieve," breathed Theo when her mother had read out the note at the breakfast table. "Surely we can be gone from here in two days, Mama."

  "But it'll be wretchedly uncomfortable with the painters and carpenters everywhere," Emily protested. "And Mama is to order new curtains and covers for the drawing room. We'll be living in a goldfish bowl until they're completed."

  "It's high summer," Theo said, buttering a piece of toast. "We don't draw the curtains anyway."

  "I'll have to move my museum," Rosie said, tapping the shell of a boiled egg. "It's very delicate. The snake skeleton has broken twice already, and I had to stick it together. And there are the birds' eggs. I can't think how to transport it all." She looked up from her egg with a worried frown.

  "We'll pack it up very carefully in boxes," Clarissa said soothingly.

  "And we'll carry it by hand down the drive," Theo added. "Nothing's going to be broken."

  "That's all right, then," Rosie said matter-of-factly, returning to her egg. "I shan't mind moving in that case."

  "Neither shall I," Theo declared. "Please, Mama, can't we leave before Stoneridge moves in?"

  Elinor refilled her teacup. "There is not the slightest need for us to do so, dear. Lord Stoneridge is being most accommodating."

  "Yes, much more than anyone would have expected of a Gilbraith," Clarissa said. "I own I quite like him now. He has a sweet smile in spite of that scar."

  Yes, Theo thought, a sweet smile with shark's teeth. She looked helplessly round the table.

  "I don't see why you should worry now, Theo," Emily said. "Lord Stoneridge has withdrawn his suit. He won't trouble you again."

  How to explain that his very presence troubled her to such an extent she couldn't have a clear thought? How to explain that she knew absolutely that the earl had declared open season and she was his quarry, whatever he might say in public? How to describe those kisses and what happened to her when her body was pressed to his?

  It couldn't be ex
plained. She pushed back her chair. "Excuse me, Mama. I have to go into the village."

  "Any special reason?" Elinor inquired with a smile. "Something I can help with?"

  "No, no errand of mercy," Theo said, going to the door. "I have to put in our order with Greg at the Hare and Hounds. The Gentlemen ride tonight."

  Elinor folded her napkin carefully. "Don't you think you should perhaps consult Lord Stoneridge now, Theo? He may have his own choices for his cellar."

  Theo flushed; then she said, "Lord Stoneridge may do as he pleases. But we have the dower-house cellars to look after. At this point they stand empty."

  "Very well, but remember that we have limited funds. You can't order without a thought for money as you used to do with your grandfather," Elinor reminded her gravely.

  "I'll remember." Theo left the room, controlling the urge to slam the door. Tears sheened her eyes – tears of anger as well as grief for her grandfather. Why had he left them nothing? Nothing but the dower house. Not a penny for dowries, all of which had to be found from their mother's jointure. It was fairly substantial, but not enough to live as they were accustomed. It was so unlike him. He'd been a crusty old curmudgeon, but never ungenerous. And he'd loathed Gilbraiths. Yet he'd abandoned his son's family and left every sou to a Gilbraith. And he'd abandoned her. It was a selfish rider, and yet she couldn't help it. He'd led her to believe she was special to him… as precious as his son had been. But he'd abandoned her.

  She rode into the village half an hour later, her face taut, and dismounted in the stableyard of the Hare and Hounds. "How's your grandma, Ted?" she asked the groom who took her horse.

  "Much better, thanks. Lady Theo," the lad said, touching his forelock. "Them 'ot poultices did wonders for 'er knees. Scrubbin' the kitchen floor she was last even."

  "Well, I'm sure she shouldn't be," Theo said, forgetting her own troubles in this village issue. "Not at her age. What's your sister doing?"

  "Oh, she jest sits b' the fire and moans," the lad said, grinning. "Belly's big as an 'ouse now. It's as much as she can do t' sit at table. Right lazy cow she is."

  Theo, totally in agreement with this description, chose not to respond. "Is Greg in?"

  "Aye… Gentlemen are ridin' this night."

  "So they are, Ted." She winked at him, receiving a conspiratorial wink in return.

  She went through the kitchens, greeting the staff, helping herself to an apple tartlet cooling on a rack on the table.

  "You always was partial to my apple tartlets, Lady Theo," the cook said with a pleased smile. "So's young Lady Rosie. I'll pack up a few fer ye to take back to the manor when yer done with Greg."

  "Thank you, Mrs. Woods." Theo went through to the taproom, deserted at this early hour. Greg was behind the bar, laboriously counting bottles.

  "Morning, Greg."

  "Mornin,' Lady Theo." He turned with a smile, revealing a few blackened teeth amid large gaps.

  The street door was open, and sunlight poured across the uneven stone-flagged floor, scattered with sawdust. The air was heavy with the smell of pipe smoke and stale beer, and dust lay thick on the rough planking tables. Theo flicked at a bench with her gloves and sat down with easy familiarity.

  "Come with yer order for the Gentlemen, then," Greg stated, coming round from the bar counter. "I've 'ad a good few this mornin', from Squire Greenham and the vicar… powerful fond of a drop of port is Vicar." He grinned, wiping his hands on his baize apron. "So what's the manor goin' to be needin' this run?"

  Theo's race darkened. "I'm not ordering for the manor, Greg. It's not for me to do so -"

  "On the contrary, cousin."

  Startled, she twisted to look over her shoulder. The earl in riding dress stood in the doorway, tapping his whip into the palm of one gloved hand, his expression hard to read against the dazzling background of the sun.

  "I thought you'd gone to London," Theo said.

  "No… but I've sent for my servant and my traps. There's no need for me to accompany the message." He ducked his head to step beneath the low lintel. "Now, what's all this about not ordering for the manor?"

  Greg was regarding the inn's guest with astonishment. "Beggin' yer pardon, sir, but you're not 'is lordship, are you?"

  "Yes, he is, Greg. I can't imagine why Lord Stoneridge hasn't made himself known to you before this," Theo said coldly.

  "Perhaps imagination isn't your strong point," the earl said, carelessly flicking her cheek with a fingertip as he perched on the edge of the table beside her.

  Theo brushed at her cheek as if a fly had settled there and said pointedly, "You'll forgive me, my lord, but I have business to transact with Greg for the dower house cellars."

  "I forgive you," he said with a bland smile, not moving from his perch. "And you'll forgive me, I'm sure, if I suggest that you also take care of the manor's needs at this time."

  "Those needs are no longer my concern, sir."

  "I think you will find that they are," he said, a hint of steel in his voice now, a cold glint in the gray eyes. "Have done with this nonsense, cousin."

  Greg abruptly dived behind the bar counter, reemerging with a crusted bottle and three glasses. "A glass of burgundy," he suggested with a hearty chuckle. "Best eighty-nine vintage. It's the last bottle left of that consignment, but I'm hopin' the Gentlemen'll manage a few more this run."

  Theo accepted the diversion with relief. She couldn't imagine what the innkeeper must have thought of that terse exchange, but clearly she had to yield the issue. It would be childishly spiteful to refuse her help, but Gilbraith could have asked for it instead of demanding it.

  Sylvester played no part in the exchange between Theo and Greg. He listened attentively, sipping his wine. His cousin was both knowledgeable and efficient as she listed the manor's needs. It was highly improper, however, for a young lady of breeding to be so at ease in a local taproom. Had her grandfather encouraged this familiarity? It surprised him that Lady Belmont would allow such behavior. It would have to change once they were married. Just as this racketing around the country like an itinerant gypsy would have to stop.

  She glanced at him at the end and said, "I trust that will do for you, my lord."

  "I trust so, cousin." He offered a mock bow. "I shall know who's responsible if it doesn't, won't I?"

  Was he accusing her of deliberately misordering, just to spite him? Her eyes widened in indignation and the earl laughed.

  "I'm truly grateful for your assistance," he said, setting his glass on the table.

  Theo closed her lips tight on a retort and turned back to Greg. "Now, I need a separate order for the dower house…"

  "That's somewhat modest," the earl observed when she finally nodded her satisfaction and rose from the bench.

  "A modest household has modest needs, sir," she said coldly. "Greg, that account should be sent to Lady Belmont at the dower house."

  She gathered up her gloves and whip. "I'll send Alfred with the gig to collect the supplies in the morning____________________Lord Stoneridge, I give you good day." She walked out of the taproom toward the kitchen.

  Sylvester blinked, realizing that she was wearing a most unusual riding habit – it seemed to have a divided skirt. Surely she wasn't riding astride?

  "Make sure both accounts come to me at the manor, Greg," he commanded. "I have an arrangement with Lady Belmont"

  "Ah," Greg said, nodding wisely. "One that Lady Theo doesn't know about, I daresay."

  Sylvester agreed. It was an outright lie, but he had it in mind to present Lady Belmont with a housewarming gift – a tactful, graceful gesture, but one he suspected would be lost on his fiery young cousin, who, if he'd confided in her, would probably have contrived to insult him in front of the inn-keeper. He strode out of the inn and round to the stables, where he assumed Theo's horse was waiting for her.

  She emerged from the kitchen, slipping the parcel of apple tartlets carefully into the deep pocket of her jacket. She saw the earl leaning against the s
table wall, idly chewing a straw, and ignored him.

  "Ted, my horse, please."

  The lad brought the neat dapple-gray mare, and Theo swung astride her without assistance.

  "An unusual choice of saddle," Sylvester commented, crossing the cobbles. "But perhaps not for a gypsy."

  "It's convenient," she said shortly, gathering up the reins. "I have always ridden astride round here. No one remarks it. Good day, Lord Stoneridge."

  Something else that would have to be discouraged in his countess. Shaking his head, he mounted his own horse and rode out after her. It was just his luck that the only possible Belmont daughter had to be this intransigent romp who clearly detested him… Perhaps he could persuade Lady Belmont to reconsider an offer for Clarissa.

  But no… the pursuit might be harder with Theo, but winning over such a passionate nature would be worth the effort. Besides, Theo's knowledge and expertise in estate management made her an invaluable resource.

  He urged his horse into a gallop, coming up with her as she turned out of the village toward the cliff top above Lulworth Cove.

  "A word with you, cousin."

  "Why can't you leave me alone!" she exclaimed in a low voice.

  His lips tightened. "It would be so much easier for everyone if you'd accept the inevitable with good grace," he said with calculated severity. "We are going to be neighbors whether you like it or not. You are behaving like a spoiled hoyden who should have had some manners whipped into her years ago."

  "I do accept the inevitable," she said, flushing. "But I don't have to cultivate you. You seem to be deliberately trying to annoy me, following me around, pestering me, making me sound horrible… and I'm not."

  She sounded so desperately aggrieved that he couldn't help being amused. Leaning over, he placed a hand over hers and said, smilingly persuasive, "I believe you, Theo, and I don't intend to make you sound horrible. But I do wish to get to know you, and you're making it very difficult for me."

  Shark! Theo snatched her hand away and nudged Dulcie's flanks, turning her aside onto a ribbon track descending the cliff to the cove. The mare stepped surefooted down the steep path, clearly familiar with the terrain. Sylvester set his black to follow, holding him on a tight rein as he picked his way cautiously through the loose sand and scree.