“I know that, Mother,” he replied soberly. “Do not think I have not given it plenty of thought.”
As he stood beside her, sipping at his ale and wishing she would change the subject, his mind was full of Marianne. Mother was right to suppose he felt rejected when Frances fell in love with his brother instead of him, but it was a question of pride, nothing else. He could have loved her, given enough time and intimate contact, but he did not love her then; Mark did. Now he wondered who on earth could take her place. Most of the young women in his social circles were betrothed and had their futures settled a long time ago. Was he to accept a woman rejected by other men?
At last his mother spoke and her words brought him back to reality.
“Is it that woman you have been keeping in London?”
He frowned.
“How do you know about her?”
“I am your mother; I can tell when my son is content and London is the obvious place. I am not a fool.”
He grinned.
“No, Mother, you are not.”
“You cannot marry her,” she said, “whoever she is. A woman who would be your mistress cannot be suitable to be your countess.”
“I know that, Mother. I regret it, but I know we cannot be married; so does she.”
He put his hands on her upper arms, held her away from him and looked into her worried eyes. She was beginning to look old, something he never noticed before. The strain of looking after his father and the scandal over Mark had taken its toll on her; Adrian could help her find some peace by at least doing his duty and taking responsibility for his own future.
“You choose,” he said. “You find me a bride who is suitable, who will know how to behave, who will be pleasant to look upon and hopefully one I can become fond of.”
And one who does not expect to be exclusive, he thought.
And chosen she had. The following day a carriage arrived, a beautiful white carriage inlaid with gold and beautifully painted pictures. Adrian watched from the ground floor window as the young woman occupant stepped down and the sight of her made him catch his breath. She was beautiful, the sort of beauty which made artists want to paint her, the sort of beauty which made everybody, male and female, turn their heads as she passed.
She wore a red satin gown embroidered with gold thread and a gold net over her blonde hair.
But a woman that lovely and riding in such an expensive carriage, wearing such expensive clothes, could not also be good, could she? She would be spoilt, wanting her own way in all things, having no empathy for anyone else.
He thought of Marianne, of her sweet nature and her constant gratitude to him; he thought of Frances, of her musical laughter, her wish to please, her love of animals.
She was gazng at the gardens when he went outside to greet her and she turned her head towards him as he appeared in the driveway. She curtsied, a deep, respectful curtsy, and when she arose she gave him the most dazzling smile he had ever seen. He held out his hand to her and she took it as she stepped towards him.
“My Lord,” she murmured softly. “Thank you for receiving me.”
“Thank you for coming,” he replied, his lips brushing the back of her hand.
He held fast to that hand as he led her inside the house, his thoughts racing, while his mother appeared to lead her father into the house. She had the warmest smile and the sweetest, most musical voice he had ever heard. The skin on the hand he held was as smooth as silk, so smooth he could hardly keep his thumb from caressing it and his masculine thoughts wondered if the rest of her was as smooth.
His mother told him she was seventeen, but she looked much more sophisticated than any seventeen year old he had ever seen. And why was she not already betrothed? Dare he hope God had kept her safe for him? He smiled at the notion and she turned to look at him. That is when he saw for the first time the sadness in her beautiful, blue eyes and he determined to learn the cause.
“The servants have prepared a bedchamber for you, My Lady,” he said. “May I have the honour of escorting you?”
She smiled again, making his heart skip.
“That would be very good of you, My Lord,” she replied.
She slipped her hand into the bend of his arm and they climbed the staircase, her perfume making him feel a little intoxicated. Inside the chamber a maid was busy unpacking her boxes and now she turned and curtsied to them both.
“Thank you,” Elizabeth had said. “What is your name?”
“April, My Lady,” the maid replied.
“Well, thank you April. You may continue.”
She was so gracious, and spoke so kindly to little April, who was barely twelve years old and very nervous. This was the first time she had been given the task of unpacking a guest’s clothing.
“I will leave you to settle,” Adrian said.
He hurried downstairs to find his mother, to learn more about this gorgeous creature. She looked up from her conversation with Elizabeth’s father, Lord Paxton. Adrian bowed to the Earl, wishing he would leave them alone. What he wanted to say was not for a father’s ears.
“My Lord,” Adrian said. “I thank you for bringing your daughter to meet me.”
“Lord Kennington,” the man said as he stood to greet Adrian. “My daughter is rather fragile; she has spent the past two years in near solitude. I will leave Her Ladyship to explain the details to you, but I will speak to you at length before I leave.”
Adrian watched him go, considering his words and wondering what he meant by fragile. He turned to his mother.
“Where did you find such a beautiful woman?” He asked. “And why has she not been promised before this?”
She gestured for him to sit and joined him on the settle.
“She was promised to the son of a prominent Protestant family, the Sinclairs.”
Adrian’s smile froze.
“She was betrothed to Elliot Sinclair? The man who betrayed his whole family to the church as heretics?”
His mother nodded.
“My God. No wonder she looks so sad.”
“His family were among the early martyrs. It was very traumatic for her. She was staying with them, naturally, and was forced to hide in the barn when the soldiers came. When she emerged the house was empty, everyone had gone, even the servants. She assumed Elliot had been taken as well; it was later she learned she was mistaken.”
Adrian nodded slowly.
“I heard about it. The family had no idea their son was a secret papist and he betrayed them all. I wonder if she loved him?”
“That is something you will have to ask her yourself. It was two years ago, when she was but fifteen, but she had come to know the young man well in the time she had spent with his family. At least she thought she had. She was distraught by the events, but nobody knows for sure how distraught. Even her father has never asked her that; he thought it best to allow her to forget the whole thing, as if that were possible.”
That single afternoon turned Adrian’s life upside down. He could not wait to spend more time with Elizabeth, to get to know her, to learn her character and try to turn that sadness to a smile of joy. The sound of her voice made his heart skip joyously, the sight of her made him stir with desire and he longed to take her in his arms and kiss those glorious lips.
But he could not trust his own feelings. He always believed he loved Marianne, but what he felt for Elizabeth went far beyond that and he had to wonder if it was some sort of infatuation which would not last. His every waking moment was filled with thoughts of her, his every dream was consumed by her and he felt sure he would have died for her, had the need arisen.
***
That summer was the warmest Adrian remembered, or perhaps it was Elizabeth’s presence making it seem so. She had been with them a few weeks but it seemed impossible to get close to her. Adrian tried everything, but she was always distant, as though she were wearing an invisible shield about herself. One day he decided to broach the subject of her former betrothed and t
he terrible fate of his family. He was sure it was that which stopped her from trusting him.
They had been riding together, as they had done most days, and they had talked of their childhoods, their friends, he told her about Frances and Mark. That was the first time he had told anyone about them, not even Marianne. He recalled her questions when he let slip that he had a brother, but he did not trust her with the truth. Why not he could not have said, but Elizabeth was different. He wanted her to be his wife, so he would trust her completely.
She climbed down from her mare and led her to the stream, where she released the reins and kissed the animal’s face before she turned to him. He did the same with his own horse, though without the kiss, then sat down on the grass and reached out a hand to her, which she seemed reluctant to take.
“That is why you are free to marry?” She asked. “I did wonder.”
“Frances lived here with us; we were getting to know each other, preparing for a future marriage. What I did not know was that she was getting to know my brother rather better than me.”
She gave him a hesitant smile.
“So you, too, have been betrayed.”
“I never really thought about it like that,” he said. “It did not feel like a betrayal. Perhaps if I had loved her it would have, but I did not.”
“Still, you must have been very angry,” she said.
“Not really. At the time I was too surprised to be anything else; I had not even considered anything untoward was happening between them. I was only happy to see that my brother got on so well with my future wife.” He turned to her and smiled. “Does that make me sound like a fool?”
“No. It sounds like a man who trusted his brother, who had no suspicions of his betrothed. I only hope her actions do not cloud your judgement in the future.”
“I could say the same about you,” he said gently. “I think Elliot Sinclair’s actions have clouded your judgement.”
He smiled, brushed his fingers over her cheek. She made no comment on his statement.
“Tell me more about Frances,” she said.
“She was a sweet girl; I was fond of her. I could have insisted she kept her promise, but I am not that manner of man. I did not love her, so why should she not be with someone who did? And I wanted my brother to be happy.”
“That was very generous.”
He was silent for a few minutes, not sure if he should ask or not. At last he made up his mind.
“Tell me about your betrothed,” he said. Her eyes grew wide with fear and he took her hand to calm her. “If it is really too painful, I have no need to know.”
She swallowed hard, looked down at her hands where they sat in her lap. At last she spoke, but did not look up. It was as though she could not face him and remember at the same time.
“It was getting close to the date set for the wedding. Lord and Lady Sinclair had postponed it in the hope of a Protestant service, but it was not to be. Elliot told me he had received word my mother was ill; he insisted I go to visit her, take one of the servants. I should have suspected something when he wanted me to take the new servant. Why would he trust my safety to someone who had no experience? But I was too concerned about my mother to question it.”
He squeezed her hand but said nothing.
“My family lived about five miles away from Sinclair Manor and when I got there, not only was there nothing wrong with my mother, but they were away from home. So I thought there must have been a mistake and I took the servant and rode back.”
Adrian noticed she had tears in the corners of her eyes and he reached out and brushed them away while she swallowed again before she went on.
“When we arrived, the soldiers were leading the family out in chains. But there was no sign of Elliot and I thought he must have escaped somehow. It was terrifying,” she said. “I took my manservant and the horses and ran to hide in the barn, praying the creatures would make no sound. I knew what they had come for; Elliot’s father was not very convincing in paying lip service to the papist faith and I suspected he played a part in helping Protestants escape to France. I was afraid it might happen, but to see them all dragged out and bundled into a carriage with barred windows was just terrifying. I was so scared they would find me.”
She stopped talking and her mouth turned down, her lips began to crease and Adrian knew she was about to cry. He placed his fingers on her lips and smiled gently.
“Enough,” he said. “You have no need to relive it.”
“No,” she answered. “It is better to talk about it. My father would never let me tell him; he had some idea it would be easier for me to forget if I said nothing about it. Just as if I could ever forget. Of course, if you mind my talking about it…”
“You do whatever makes you feel better.”
“I know what happened to them, how they died at Smithfield.” Adrian reached forward and wiped the tears from her cheeks with his thumb. “I fled back to my father’s house with my servant and hid myself away in my bedchamber. I was afraid they might come for us too, although my parents attended mass regularly, tried to keep up appearances. I am not sure if they were fooling anyone.”
“Forgive me,” Adrian said. “I should not have asked.”
“I am glad you did,” she said. “It is a relief. My father thought it was best forgotten, but it is not that easy. I can never forget. I loved those people as my own kin and they were betrayed, Adrian, by their own son, by the one person they should have been able to trust with their lives. I had no idea he was a secret catholic; I thought he only attended mass every day to keep up appearances, like the rest of us.”
“Did you love him?”
She smiled at last.
“I did love him, yes,” she said, making his heart sink. “He was to be my husband. Naturally I found all the goodness I could in him.” She looked at him hesitantly. “He lied about my mother being ill; he said that just to get me away because he knew his family were going to be arrested. He wanted to save me. I found out the following week. He thought I would still marry him, that as his wife I would follow his faith. Can you imagine that?”
He shook his head, held tighter to her hand.
“Is that why I feel this distance between us?” He asked. “Do you find it hard to trust?”
She nodded.
“Yes, but there is something else. The fact is,” she began, “I may not be free to marry you or anyone.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
“Elliot and I were betrothed. It might impede a marriage between us. I was going to keep silent, lest the truth should change your mind.”
His heart skipped unexpectedly and he turned to smile at her, lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it and allowed his fingers to stroke her cheek.
“Does that mean you want to marry me?” He asked.
She blushed and turned her head to kiss his palm.
“If you ask me,” she murmured, “I will be honoured.”
“Then I am asking.”
She leaned toward him and kissed his mouth and he leaned back against the tree and held her gently in his arms.
“You have to know,” she went on. “Elliot still lives.”
He stared at her for a little while, confused.
“It was a week after they were all executed, the Earl and Countess, Elliot’s brother, all dead, and Elliot came to the village. I was only going a mile or so to the blacksmith to get my horse shod, so I felt quite safe going alone. While I was waiting I thought I would stroll about the village, see if the villagers were all keeping well, take my mind off what had happened, and Elliot was there, hiding behind the stables.”
She paused and held her breath for a moment before she went on with difficulty.
“I had no idea until then; I thought he had run away, hidden himself somewhere, but he told me how he had done a noble thing, how God would reward him. He thought we would still be married.”
Adrian was shaking his head, frowning.
“
Rumour has it he took his own life.”
She shook her head.
“It is not true,” she went on. “He told me he had seen the truth, that the Catholic way was the true faith and his family got what they deserved. I could hardly believe it.”
She recalled that morning, how her world had seemed to collapse for the second time. He thought she would follow the Catholic faith with him. His father and brother were both dead, so he was the Earl now.
“He was given everything,” she told Adrian. “The title, the estate, everything and he thought he would have me as well. When I refused he threatened to go to the Queen, to ask her to order me to marry him. And I thought he loved me. I find it hard to trust now, very hard.”
“I can understand that. But you can trust me,” Adrian assured her. “I give you my word.”
“I have grown fond of you, Adrian, and I would like us to have a future together.”
Adrian held her close, kissed the top of her head and felt at last she was allowing him to find a way through her invisible shield.
“He went back to the family house, lived there alone as a recluse,” she went on. “He dared not show his face for everyone would know what he did. As far as I know he is still there. The farm has gone to rack and ruin since then; I think his conscience bothered him and he had no heart to keep things going. But our betrothal has never been officially broken.”
“Have no fear. As far as we are concerned, Elliot is dead and shall remain so. All I know is that I love you and I want you to be my wife.”
He put his hand on the back of her neck and gently pulled her head toward him to kiss her lips. It was a long, deep kiss which made her catch her breath and the heat of that breath on his lips as she did so made him stir with desire.
Marianne had always been the only woman he had ever stirred like that for and now he felt disloyal, but he was not sure which of these women he felt disloyal to.
CHAPTER SIX
The couple spent a lot of time together over the weeks since Elizabeth went to stay at Kennington house, time they used to get to know each other, although nothing had been settled.
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