Dawn came bright and clear the next morning. Awakened by knocks on both doors, Gavin and Emily dressed quickly and ate a hearty breakfast. Gavin was anxious to reach Four Towers. Gavin helped Emily into his carriage and went to throw a leg over his stallion. Soon they were off again, traveling southeast.
Chapter 26
THE setting sun slowly dipped behind the low hills of Wrotham village, a flaming palette of color, stained with vivid shades of gold, carmine, and orange soon faded into a deep purple sky. The earl’s driver trotted the tired horses between two massive stone pillars, ironbound wheels crushing the white clam shells as they rolled along the wide drive. Emily glanced outside. She recalled the massive stone pillars and the long carriage drive to the earl’s ancestral mansion, Four Towers where they stayed overnight before returning to the Carlisles’ house party from Tunbridge Wells. Was that only days ago?
At the manor’s front entrance an impressive fountain sprayed water twenty-feet high. The house itself was built of gray stone. Odd-sized windows dotted its otherwise plain façade. A tower stood on each of the four corners, rising several stories high and topped by crenulated stonework. Wide stone steps led to the double doors banded by polished brass. A massive knocker was set in the center of one panel.
Several footmen in dark green and beige livery hurried down the steps as the carriage came to a halt. Leathem dismounted, brushing dust off and doffing his top hat. A groom claimed Pegasus’s reins. “Peters, man,” Gavin greeted him. “We’ve come a fair distance. Give the lad a good rubdown before you put him away.”
A footman let down metal steps and opened the carriage door. Emily stuck her head out, and looked around. Gavin held out a hand and helped her down.
“My lord,” she said. “I can’t believe I was here a week ago. I had no idea this was where we were going when we left your aunt’s.”
“We earned a rest from our travels, Emily. Come inside. Let me get you situated.” The earl’s butler waited at the front entrance. He greeted the earl with a smile and a hearty welcome. “My Lord Leathem, I’m glad to see you back so soon.”
The butler dipped his head in Emily’s direction.
“You remember Miss Dancy, Garters, eh? She’s staying with us for a few days. Please have Mrs. Ringer show her to the Gold bedchamber. And have her trunk taken up immediately.”
Gavin next turned to Emily. “Join me for a bit of refreshment, Emily?”
Emily nodded. Gavin led her down a wide hall from the foyer to a door at the rear of the mansion. He opened a paneled oak door into a small, but exquisitely decorated parlor. A marble fireplace graced a prominent spot between gold velvet drapes. Deep green walls reminded Emily of the earl’s study in Fielding House. A Turkish carpet lay beneath the elegant furniture. Plump pillows in shades of gold and green, some patterned and others plain, were piled on chairs and two curve-backed couches.
Garters followed Emily and Gavin into the room. “Shall I pour you a brandy, my lord?”
“Yes, if you will. And pour a sherry for the lady.”
Emily unclasped her cloak, and untied the ribbons on her bonnet. She laid the garments on an armchair. Smoothing her coiffure, she idly strolled toward the tall windows. Gavin’s eyes followed her as Garters approached her carrying a silver tray with a crystal glass of tawny-colored wine.
“Miss Dancy? Your sherry?”
“Oh!” She glanced sidewise at Leathem, being reminded of the amount of wine she’d gulped the night they stopped at the Blue Boar Inn.
“One glass won’t hurt you, Emily,” Gavin said, his lips forming an avuncular smile. “Drink it, but sip it slowly. I know you must be as weary as I am about now. A small glass of wine will ease the ache in our stiff muscles after our long journey.”
Emily picked up the wineglass and sipped at it.
“Do you care to sit?” Gavin offered, gesturing to a pair of wingchairs facing the hearth.
“No, thank you. I feel as if I’ve grown roots after sitting in carriages for so many days. Do you mind if I look around?”
“Of course not. Do as you please.”
Gavin ambled to the fireplace, stretching a muscular arm along its marble mantel. He watched Emily as she meandered around the room’s perimeter. She paused in front of two large portraits hanging side-by-side on one wall. When she said nothing, Gavin explained, “My father and my mother, Lady Mary Leathem.”
“Oh, of course. And I see a clear resemblance to your father. I must say, both of your parents are quite handsome, Lord Leathem.” She turned and smiled, facing him. “When were you made earl?”
Gavin straightened up, gazing briefly into his brandy snifter as he swirled the golden liquid inside it. “Two decades, minus four months before that. My parents died together in a carriage accident on Cornwall’s heights. The coach turned over and slid down the cliffs into the Atlantic and took them with it.”
“Oh, dear me! I am sorry,” she murmured quietly. “I know how you must have felt. My parents were lost in a similar way, only a short distance outside of Toynton-under-Hill.”
“Yes, I heard that much, so, you see we harbor painful memories in common.”
Emily’s gaze met sympathetic eyes. “Yes,” she muttered. She turned back to a wall of bookshelves across from his parents’ portraits. “Am I correct, Leathem? You have no siblings?”
When he didn’t reply immediately, she glanced over her shoulder, an eyebrow curved in question.
“None that lived, I’m afraid. I had a younger brother. Unfortunately, he didn’t survive beyond infancy.”
“Again, forgive me, Leathem. I am terribly sorry if I brought up painful memories.”
“All of it was a long time ago, Emily. You may ask whatever you wish about me or my family.”
“It wasn’t my intention to probe—”
Before she could finish, the earl had swallowed his remaining brandy and put the glass down. “It’s why I brought you here.”
The wine had helped as Emily sipped at her sherry, but now Gavin removed the half full wineglass from her fingers. “We can talk later. Let me show you to your room. We dine at seven o’clock. Oh, and I asked Mrs. Ringer to send a maid up to help you. I’ll rap on your door when it’s time.”
* * * *
As good as his word, a round-cheeked maid dipped a curtsy and greeted Emily.
“My name is Dorra, Miss. The housekeeper, Mrs. Ringer, sent me up here to help you. I done unpacked your trunk and hung yer clothes in the wardrobe. Should I press out a gown for ye?”
Without answering the young maid, Emily walked to the bed and slumped tiredly atop it. Weariness and depression hit her at that same moment. What she needed most was a hot bath, and a change into something soft and less confining, and then to relax. Her corset chafed uncomfortably after sitting in the earl’s carriage for almost two days. Plus, she needed to do some more deep thinking.
Sometime ago she thought that she understood Anthony Kendall. But she was a babe in the woods where it concerned London men and how they behaved. She knew even less of worldly men, older men, like Leathem. But instinctively she knew Leathem would never disparage her like Kendall had. The earl was honorable and upstanding—a born gentleman. And he was her hero. If only she knew his true feelings, then perhaps, she could confess hers, and accept his offer even though her conscience still pinched at her with anxiety and trepidation. She did feel relief when Leathem brought her here instead of leaving her where she would need to hire transportation to her grandfather’s.
“I think not, Dorra.” Emily answered the maid’s question. “Please have someone make my excuses to the earl. It has been a long and tiresome journey from Surrey to Oxfordshire to Kent and I’m worn to the bone.” Emily exhaled out loud. “I would be most grateful, Dorra, if you would order me a hot bath. I am weary and next I look forward to a light supper and a good night’s rest.”
“Aye, Miss, I can do all of that for ye. Right away.”
Afterward, a sleepy-eyed, Emily bade Dorra an early goodnight.
* * * *
Below-stairs Leathem and the butler were advised that Miss Dancy preferred a tray in her room and would retire for the night. Garters arranged a place setting in the small back parlor for the earl’s meal. Gavin had hoped to share supper with Emily. He scarcely spoke with her during the last leg of their journey. And as much as he had wanted to ride in the carriage with her, he stayed perched atop Pegasus after she announced she would visit her grandfather.
During their travels across England, Gavin had come to realize he had been damned lonely for almost two decades. Nothing fulfilled him, even a string of lovely and willing mistresses during those many years. When his wife cuckolded him, he believed true love had deserted him for good. Love, he mused, was a painful and fleeting emotion. So, he vowed not to get trapped by the parson’s mousetrap again.
He felt different now, didn’t he? Why had he been so damned stubborn and bloody stupid during those lonely years? He could have been married and not wasted two decades. Perhaps, even happy and content. Instead, he had buried notions of a happily ever after deep down inside him, because he thought all of that was lost to him. The more he thought about it now, the more he regretted how foolish he had been. Marrying Emily Dancy could make up for those lonely years. Dare he speak his true feelings to the snip of a girl who might trample his heart beneath her half boots a second time? Humiliated by a deceiving bride, he gave up on marriage. But maybe he had finally matured—even gained wisdom and fortitude enough to change his life. Maybe he could devote his days and nights to making his wife happy. Even start a family.
* * * *
Emily rarely heard bird calls in London. Now beneath her bedroom’s windows melodious chirping had awakened her. She fell asleep quickly last evening as if she had been thumped on the head. As she came awake, visions of the earl flashed through her mind this morning. She remembered blabbering at him one night at the Blue Boar Inn. Their conversation had been hazy, but she knew she suffered through another horrible nightmare. Again, Leathem had rescued her. Images—when he touched her and comforted her with kisses—paraded through her mind’s eye. She wouldn’t mind at all if he…
A light tap on the door erased the wicked images from her mind.
“Is that you, Dorra?”
“Aye, Miss. Are ye ready for me? I brung ye a pot of tea, a plate of toast, and a jar of jam for ye to nibble on b’fore comin’ down to breakfast.”
“Then please come in.” Emily chuckled. “Your feathery friends woke me. I awoke much earlier here than when I lived in Surrey, for some reason.”
Dorra had taken one of Emily’s gowns away with her last night to press out the wrinkles. After Emily drank a cup of tea and nibbled on toast rich with thick fruit preserves, the maid assisted Emily into the dress. She brushed Emily’s raven locks and fussed with a few calcitrant curls before tying her long tresses back with a wide ribbon.
“Is the earl at breakfast?” Emily inquired.
“Aye. He asked for ye, Miss. Wanted me to rap on yer door to see if ye was awake.”
“I slept deeply. So much so I can’t believe how long."
“Well, now, Miss, there ye go.” Dorra smoothed Emily’s coiffure, giving her hairdo one final pat. “Yer as pretty as them birds singing outside yer window. The earl’s waitin’ for ye in the breakfast room.”
“Er, Dorra, I’m not sure I remember how to find my way to the breakfast room. Will you show me?”
The maid giggled, waiting in the doorway for Emily to follow her. Dorra bobbed a curtsy later downstairs, and left her at the breakfast room’s doorway. Emily poked another errant curl underneath the satin ribbon before she walked across the threshold.
Gavin sat at a round table, a London newssheet spread open in front of him. He seemed engrossed in flipping pages as he read the latest notices from the Metropolis. He hadn’t yet looked up or noticed Emily, so she took a moment to observe him.
Mixed dark and silver strands had been brushed back from his broad brow, but some curls inched forward. He disturbed them by slashing long fingers through them. Thick eyebrows met across his forehead as he read. He carried a delicate china cup to his lips, sipping at the steaming liquid. His left hand wore a heavy, gold signet ring when he wiped heavy linen across his damp lips, dropping the serviette casually again atop his lap.
Emily stood quietly and studied him a little longer. This morning he wore a dark green, superfine jacket. Crisp linen and a loosely-knotted cravat circled his neck. She noticed an emerald stickpin edged with gold nestled in the pristine cravat. The well-tailored jacket was complimented by a waistcoat in a lighter shade of green.
The earl looked up finally when Emily stepped across the threshold. He rose quickly and pulled out a chair at the table for her.
“May I peek?” she asked, walking toward a large mahogany buffet containing several covered dishes.
“Of course.” He joined her at the buffet. Holding a plate, he lifted each cover to tempt her, until the plate was full. Then he escorted her back to the table. “I’m glad you’re hungry, because I planned a busy day for us.”
“Oh?” She glanced up, quizzically, meeting his gaze.
“I haven’t been here much of late. I stayed in town when Lilianne arrived, so it’s time I came and visited my tenant farms. And, since the weather is warm and sunny, I hoped you will accompany me. By the way, do you ride?”
Emily shook her head. “No, m’lord, I’m sorry, I don’t. My father kept two carriage horses, but no hacking horses.”
“Umm, that’s too bad. Well, never mind, I shall teach you one day. But for now, my curricle will do.”
How long did he expect her to stay? Certainly not long enough to teach her how to ride? She spread a serviette over her lap, picked up her fork, and began to eat. She was quite hungry. She spoke little as she ate and drank two cups of hot tea. The earl had remained at table with her, finishing another cup of coffee, and entertained her with small talk and reading out loud about Polite Society’s latest scandals in the London papers.
After breakfast, Emily returned to her room to don a more appropriate outfit. A perky bonnet with a tiny, curled feather matched the dark brown, ribbed wool she chosen for their drive. Her wardrobe was not extensive, but what she purchased was appropriate for an open carriage ride in the country. She was buttoning a short jacket over her blouse when Dorra returned. “The earl suggested ye might want to don sturdy walking shoes if ye have them. Otherwise, I can find a pair ye can borrow.”
“Where in the world are we going?” she wondered out loud. Her brows arched with the rhetorical question. Nevertheless, she dug inside her trunk and brought out the brogues she packed to visit her parents’ graves in Surrey.
The earl was waiting when Emily descended the wide steps of the manor smiling brightly. “’Tis indeed a fine day for a drive, my lord. I’m glad you chose an open carriage. I would hate being cooped up again on a lovely day like today.”
“I’m glad, too. We shall spend the day in the fresh country air.”
Gavin helped Emily onto the high seat of the fancy curricle. The flashy bay gelding hitched to it tossed his regal head as if he were raring to go. Black leather harness with shiny, metal fittings tinkled like tiny bells as Gavin picked up the ribbons. A liveried groom held control of the horse until Gavin took charge of the high-spirited animal.
“Where are we going, Leathem?” Emily queried. “I wore my walking shoes as you suggested.”
“I thought to offer you a tour of Four Towers. So, yes, we may do some walking later.”
For an hour or more the earl talked about his estate, its tenants, and their families as the curricle drove past quaint, stone cottages, kitchen gardens, planted fields, and outbuildings belonging to each tenant farm. It seemed odd to Emily the earl didn’t stop to visit. Wasn’t it the primary purpose of their drive? Nevertheless, she was thoroughly enjoying the warm sunshine
and the country atmosphere.
Several of the tenants hooted to the earl, waving greetings as they passed by. Gavin waved back, but kept going. They drove over narrow, dirt lanes, trotted across fallow fields belonging to small farms dotting the earl’s rolling acres, and now halted in what Gavin told Emily was a portion of the home farm. Leathem reined the gelding in an open glen crossed by a shallow stream and ringed by tall maples.
His high-strung carriage horse had finally settled down during their drive. Tethered to a low branch, the bay snorted through his nostrils, lowered his aristocratic muzzle, and daintily nipped at the lush greenery growing in the secluded glen. Sunlight filtered between the tall maples’ leafy branches, sketching strange patterns of light and shadow on the grassy banks of the gently flowing stream.
“I did better today,” Gavin commented, reaching for a wicker basket and lifting it from behind the curricle’s seat.
“You brought real picnic fare?” Emily giggled, remembering the uninspired lunch they shared on the way to Oxfordshire.
“I did,” he said with a grin. “Mrs. Ringer assured me we would be well fed with what’s inside this basket.” Gavin helped Emily down, again grinning boyishly as he escorted her to a sunny spot near the stream. She looked around while he shook out a blanket and spread it on the ground.
“While we’re standing here, do you want to stretch your legs? Take a short stroll along the stream?”
“I’d love to,” Emily responded.
“When I was young,” Gavin was saying as they walked, “this was my favorite spot of all on Four Towers.” He had doffed his hat and tossed it onto the ground cloth before their walk. Unconsciously, he reached down and captured Emily’s hand, and pulled it onto the crook of his elbow. “I often came here with friends to fish for any wily trout swimming in the stream. As I recall, there was astronomically fine angling here every summer.”
The Marriage Bargain Page 31