When Drew looked over at Marianne, she nodded her approval. “Bring the kitten over here, Andrea.”
The child tiptoed over to her father. The kitten, still sound asleep, seemed to be totally unaware that the fate of its future was being decided as it slept. Drew reached into the little pouch Andrea had made of her pinafore.
“Papa, Papa, you’ll wake her.”
“I know, little one, but I want to look at it closely to make sure it is healthy. Have you chosen a name?”
As Andrea pouted out her lower lip in deep thought, Drew stroked the little creature, black with a white bib and socks, in his large hands. It was fluffier than most kittens so he expected the kitten would remain soft as it grew. He rolled it over on to its back in one large palm and pushed gently on its belly between its legs.
The kitten stretched, yawned, and gave out a little mewling sound. Then it took to licking and cleaning its front paws.
“It’s a girl, Andrea. You need to pick a girl’s name.”
“A girl kitty. It’s a girl kitty? There are lots of girl names I like. Penelope. Petunia. Kitty. Pussycat. Her mama’s name is Fluffy and she’s so fluffy like her. But she has socks. She’s like the kitten in the nursery story with mittens.” Pausing a moment in deep thought, Andrea finally said, “Can I call her Fluffy Mittens?”
The kitten, now bored with cleaning her paws, mewed again as her little paws grabbed on to Drew’s thumb with tiny, sharp claws and nipped with tiny, sharp teeth. He gently laid the kitten in his daughter’s open arms. “Of course, you can. It appears it is time to start your job, little one. I do believe your charge is hungry and will need you to take her to the kitchen to get her some milk.”
Andrea cradled the cat gently as she turned toward Jane. “Thank you, Papa. Thank you, Mama.” She looked up into the governess’s face. “Thank you, Miss Jane, for teaching me.”
Putting a gentle hand on the child’s small shoulder, Jane made the slightest of bows and trundled Andrea off toward the kitchen.
Marianne sighed. “We’d have two houses full of kittens if it were up to that child.”
“Possibly, but if she learns compassion and responsibility, it can’t possibly be a bad thing.” He brought his teacup to his lips smiling over the brim at his happy but somewhat flustered wife.
Wellingford interrupted their discourse. “My lord, Bridgeton, the bailiff, has arrived . . . accompanied by his daughter.”
“His daughter?” Drew replaced his cup in its saucer.
“Yes, my lord.”
“Show them to the library. We will meet with them shortly. Marianne, I sent a note to Bridgeton first thing this morning. After our meetings with the crofters I believe it is time we find out just what the difficulty is with the instructions you have been giving him.”
Marianne rose from the table as Drew came around and offered his arm. “As you wish. I am most curious about the dilemma.”
~ ~ ~
Drew entered the library with Marianne to find his bailiff not anything like he remembered him. Instead of the erect, energetic, competent man he knew from years before, he found a bent, somewhat disheveled person leaning heavily on a woman not too much older than Drew or his wife.
The woman tried to give what small curtsy she could considering her hampered position. “My lord, excuse my presumption in attending you. Unfortunately, my father is no longer able to get about without an escort.” She turned to the old man whom Drew knew to be not much older than three score years but looking as much as ten or more years older than that. “Papa, here’s the earl. Remember he sent you a note just this morning and wished to talk with you about the estate. Papa, do you understand.”
“Yes, yes, Nancy. I’m not deaf. I can see who it is. It’s the viscount. Where’s your father, lad? Nancy said I was to meet with the earl.”
“Bridgeton, why don’t you and Miss Bridgeton—”
The young woman interrupted politely. “I’m married now, my lord. I’m Mrs. Dunstan, but please call me Nancy. It will be so much easier.”
Drew looked up and nodded. “My congratulations, Nancy. Bridgeton, why don’t you and Nancy have a seat right over here and we can talk.”
Nancy walked her father over to the settee Drew had indicated in front of the hearth which lacked any fire on such a fine day of sunshine and warm breezes. “Papa, settle in here. Now remember how I told you of the old earl’s passing? It’s been quite a few months now. We went to the service in the village. Don’t you remember?”
Bridgeton dropped into the seat with an audible huff. “You never told me, Nancy. I would remember that. So, the boy is in charge? Where is he? Andrew. Andrew, you’re in charge now?”
“Papa, he’s the earl now. You have to call him my lord.” Nancy turned toward Drew, who stood by watching intently. “I’m so sorry, my lord. I’ve explained to him many times. He just doesn’t remember.”
Marianne walked around Drew and stooped before the bailiff and his daughter who sat next to her father. “Hello, Mr. Bridgeton. I’m Lady Reignsfield, the earl’s new wife. You can call me Lady Marianne. I’m so happy to meet you. I’ve been sending you notes over the last few months since the old earl died. I’m so sorry to have bothered you.”
“Oh. Well, aren’t you nice? Did I get letters from this nice lady, Nancy? Why didn’t you give them to me?”
“Papa, you’ve read each of the letters. I’m so sorry, Lady Marianne. I did read them to Papa and I know he answered them, but I didn’t know what else to do about them. The old earl pretty much left Papa to run things his own way. And he did so very well until about a year ago. He stopped visiting the crofters and couldn’t seem to make sense of the ledgers any more. Since the earl never asked and then he passed on, I just didn’t know what to do.” Nancy took a handkerchief from her pocket and wrung it in her lap.
Marianne recognized the habit well. The bailiff’s daughter was disquieted and didn’t know what to do, where to turn. She laid a hand on the woman’s fretful hands to still them. “It’s quite all right, Nancy. I’m sure we can figure something out. Can’t we, my lord?” She looked up into Drew’s concerned face.
“Yes. Mr. Bridgeton has served us very well for many years. It just may be time to let him retire and give him a well-earned pension.” Drew came around to sit in a chair across from the pair. “If he retires, Nancy, he’ll have to give up the bailiff’s cottage. Where will he live?”
“That will not be a problem, your lordship. In fact, it would be easier on me and the family if he comes to live with us. It would save much time running back and forth, cooking two sets of meals, and worrying about if he wanders off. And the children love him so. They sit and talk with him and show him their toys. It would be a blessing.”
“I will settle half of his annual salary on him. That should be enough to help you with the added expenses of caring for him.” Marianne stood and went over to stand next to Drew.
“My lord, that is most generous.” Nancy laid a hand over her father’s. “Thank you ever so much. I knew it best that he retire, but I had no idea how we should go about it. We’ll have him out of the cottage by week’s end. I’ll scrub it up for the next bailiff, too.” As Drew stood, Nancy did as well, then looked down at Bridgeton who seemed to be lost in his own thoughts. “Come, Papa, we need to let the earl and his lady get back to their day.”
Unsteadily, Bridgeton gained his feet and prepared to leave. “Thank you, my boy. You tell your father I was here and expected to have words with him about that new bridge we should be building over the stream near my cottage. He never seems to take much of an interest in what goes on around here. He better start though, or the crofters will just run things right into the ground.”
“Come, Papa.” Nancy led her father toward the door but turned back once more. “Thank you ever so much. I do appreciate your und
erstanding. It’s been a difficult year for us.”
Drew and Marianne approached. “Think nothing of it.” Drew raised his hand in farewell. “Your father is a good man. Take good care of him for us.”
As the bailiff trundled down the hall with encouragement from Nancy, Marianne turned to Drew. “That explains everything. No wonder his letters were so sparse and incoherent. The poor man. He hasn’t much of an idea what is going on around him. Bless his daughter for taking him in. Not all families are so kind.”
“He is certainly not the man I remember. We built that bridge he referred to well over ten years ago.” Drew put an arm around Marianne’s shoulder as he escorted her into the hall. “Well, it’s been a very eventful day. We’ve lost a bailiff and gained a kitten. I think it’s time we get ready for dinner. If luck is with us, we can have a quiet evening and talk about what we shall do next.”
Chapter 22
By luncheon the next afternoon, Marianne and Drew had met with Mick Smith and come to an acceptable, mutual understanding. Mick was eager to take charge of the bailiff duties and highly interested in the proposals of the varied changes Marianne planned in the sowing and fertilizing of crops. He was most excited about the idea of reutilizing the manure to fertilize the fields and changing the crop rotation with the addition of legumes, wheat, barley and turnips.
Mick was also grateful for the move to the bailiff’s cottage which offered more room for his growing family. He knew his wife, Sally, would be happy as a lark with the added income and larger accommodations.
Having finished their meal, they retired from the breakfast room and strolled down the hallway coming across Wellingford, who prepared a silver salver in the front foyer.
Walking over to Marianne he presented the tray. “A note for you, my lady.”
“Thank you.” She reached for the neatly folded foolscap and studied the penmanship. A frown kicked the corners of her lips down. Her brow furrowed.
“What is it, my love?” Drew could think of nothing that could bode badly unless something had happened to her parents or her brother.
“It’s from Robert. I do hope all is well in town.” She turned toward the marble steps leading to the first floor, her mind now engaged elsewhere.
Drew stood and watched as she drifted up the staircase totally preoccupied and oblivious of him.
What could this person, this man who seemed determined to replace him in his wife’s affections, possibly want so badly that he would write to her now?
~ ~ ~
Marianne walked up the magnificent staircase studying the paper as if she could divine the message without opening it. She reached the door to her room and let herself in. She moved to the window overlooking the back gardens, paused and leaned against the frame. Sliding her nail beneath the black sealing wax, she popped the message open.
My dearest Marianne,
How could you leave without a note? I came by your house just this morning to take you for a ride in the park. The weather is lovely here and I thought we could enjoy the warmth of the season and our company together for a short time. I expect you’d welcome a few moments to be away from him. He’s done nothing but come between us since his return.
As I said, I stopped by your town house only to find you had left days ago without a by your leave.
I am so disappointed, Marianne. I expected better of you. Has the prodigal turned you against me so very quickly? Have we so rapidly lost what we had gained over these last two years?
Write me, my dearest, and tell me when you will return. I wait anxiously for you. We must move forward with our plans though of course they must be modified since the earl has returned from the dead. No matter. This, too, can be rectified.
Yours,
Robert
Marianne’s knees grew weak. She stretched her hand out behind her and felt for the chair by her escritoire. Finding it, she collapsed into the seat, the missive dangling from her fingers.
She had not let Robert know her plans. She should have. After all, he was her friend. A good friend who had been there for her these last two years. She had been insensitive to leave without some notification to tell him their plans.
Preceded only by a staccato rap on the door, Drew entered, hesitating in the portal. “Is everything all right? Your parents? Your brother? He hasn’t gotten himself into a duel, has he? Can I do anything?”
Marianne firmed her hand around Robert’s letter and stood to face her husband. What would he think of all of this? He had said nothing of her relationship with Robert. He did not, however, seem to be enamored with their friendship. But, Robert had been there for her. And they had planned to marry. They would have had Drew declared dead since nearly four years had passed without word of him. They needed only three more, possibly less if they could have the case heard before the magistrate and prove a lack of evidence that he survived.
Then Drew arrived unexpected, unannounced, and uninvited. And her world, so carefully organized over these last many years, descended into chaos once again.
Her thumb worried her ruby-studded wedding ring.
If that were not enough, when Drew smiled at her, touched her, kissed her, she lost all her senses to him. Lost thought of what she was doing, where she was going and, most seriously, what she currently wanted in life.
She withdrew from her contemplation. “Everything is well, my lord. It is from Robert. He was surprised to find us gone. He writes to ensure that I am well. I will jot a quick note to tell him so. I am afraid I have been an unappreciative friend by not sharing our plans.” When she turned, she found her husband studying her with an intensity that made her breath catch in her throat.
“Marianne, should I be concerned? Have you made a decision and not informed me?” He approached her as if she were a lioness protecting her cub, his hand stretched toward her, palm open. His gaze fixed on hers with unanswered questions floating among the sapphirine blue that always drew her to him.
She looked away, not ready to make her decision, much less confide it to him. “No, not yet. I have been occupied with thoughts of this estate and resolving the challenges here.”
He slid the letter from her hand. She let it go without demur. His gaze turned from her as he scanned the words Robert had scrawled across the page. When finished, he crumpled the paper with one hand and tossed it onto her escritoire.
He took her hand in his, lifted her palm to press a simple kiss. She felt the warmth, the energy, unfurl up her arm and wrap her heart in heat. She raised her eyes to gaze into his.
“It’s not difficult, my love.” He pressed yet another kiss to her palm. “You may leave me at any time. You have just to say the word, tell me you are leaving. I will endeavor to make our divorce as amicable as possible. I will not contest or deny you. It has been years and you have made a life for yourself. I understand.” He placed his other hand against her cheek. She felt the warmth and heat renew, the desire for his touch spring to her mind, to her body. “But, Marianne, please be sure about what you choose. There will be no going back once your decision is made. And before you make this life-altering choice, I sincerely ask you to give me a full chance, a whole chance, to show you what our marriage can be before you toss it away with both hands and run to Gentilly.”
And there it was. He wanted to bed her. She had no doubts about his purpose now. Could that be the reason he had imposed his presence so often at balls and soirees? Could that also be why he had so readily left London and escaped to the country? No one to share her with here except their daughter, who would always be their united and first priority.
And what would happen to Andrea should she choose to leave him for Robert? She knew Vanessa was right. As the earl, a peer of the realm, he would have sole custody of her. Marianne knew Drew would let her be with their child as often as she wished but they would not live to
gether. She would not be there to raise her beautiful daughter.
Her reverie shattered as a smooth touch stroked down her arm, his fingers intertwined with hers.
“It will not be like the last time, the first time, my love. I am schooled now in the art of lovemaking. Give yourself over to me and let me share what I know, what we can experience . . . together.” His voice, a whisper in her ear, sent thrills, shivers coursing through her inflaming her, inciting her.
“Yes . . .” she whispered back instinctively.
~ ~ ~
He took her mouth with a kiss and a passion that would have brought her to her knees if his arms had not swept around her and crushed her to his chest.
And she was lost.
Lost as his strong hands firmed and slid up and down her back, then gently pulled her against him, making it obvious to her, even through their clothing, he was ready to take her.
Lost as his mouth devoured hers, his tongue sweeping in to tangle, tease, and taste every corner and enticing her to return the heat into his own mouth. Which she did as her hands slid over his shoulders, her fingers raked through his thick, rich hair, and held on for dear life. She knew without a doubt that her life would change once again after this encounter, this tryst, this conflagration.
His hands returned to her back and she felt tapes tug and release, felt heat escape, and cool air caress her back as her longcloth petticoats fell to the floor. Her chemise slid up her hips, then, shortly thereafter, her pantalettes followed her petticoats to the carpet.
Warm hands splayed across her derrière. As he squeezed and fondled, his mouth made its way down her throat where he lavished his tongue and wet kisses on her pulse points, making her breath catch and inciting her heart to beat even faster.
When he took her earlobe gently between his teeth and tugged, she thought she would faint from the intensity of the sensation. She tingled from there down through all of the very private places of her body, those places she had shared with him that one time, on their wedding night.
Seduced by the Dandy Lion Page 14