“But I’d wager he doesn’t ride any better,” Colin said.
“He is the bane of his horses,” Matt agreed. “He is the man you need to talk to about Maiden Hill. He and Lady Loftus have sponsored Lady Rosalyn from the beginning. If anyone can negotiate a sensible arrangement to your dilemma, it is Loftus.”
“You’re right,” Val agreed, knotting her thread and biting it off with her teeth.
At that moment, the front door burst open and Boyd and Thomas, Matt and Val’s oldest children, ages ten and eight, respectively, came running into the cottage, followed by Joseph and Emma. They’d seen the phaeton by the rectory stable and wanted to know who owned such a “rum rig.”
Their boyish enthusiasm reminded Colin of himself and Matt as boys. He was also a bit startled to have before him all of these people who’d been born after he’d left for the military, people who bore a bit of a resemblance to him. Yes, he’d known they were born, but there was a great difference between reading about someone and seeing them in flesh and blood.
“Lads,” Matt said, his use of the term reminding Colin so much of their father, “this is your uncle Colin. He has returned from the military.”
The oldest, Boyd, was a touch reserved, but Thomas greeted him with enthusiasm and questions. In contrast with his older brother, Thomas had a bit of the devil in him, and Colin was again reminded of himself in his youth. He noticed they smelled a bit like unwashed potatoes and spring air.
Val shushed them. “Sarah’s asleep and your uncle has ridden all night and is tired. There will be plenty of time for questions later. Colin, you are welcome to stay with us as long as you wish. We’re crowded, but we always have room for one more.” Emma had climbed into her mother’s lap, and Val gave her a hug.
“On the floor in front of the fire?” he asked, remembering how he and Matt had always preferred sleeping there to sleeping in their beds.
“As a matter of fact, yes,” his brother said with a smile. “Or you can squeeze in with the boys in their bed.”
The boys’ eyes widened. “Would you, Uncle Colin?”
“Perhaps,” he hedged. “Actually, I’d like to see Loftus today, if we can.”
“Right now?” his brother asked.
“Is there any time better? I want to see the matter settled quickly,” Colin answered.
Matt exchanged a look with Val, who said, “I don’t see why you must push this, Colin. I’d hate to see Lady Rosalyn gone from the Valley. There must be a solution.”
All the boys looked up. “Lady Rosalyn can’t move,” Thomas declared. “What will we do for a judge on May Day? She’s the only one who remembers everyone’s name. Lord Loftus always calls us by the color of our hair. ‘Hey, you, the yellow-haired one, you win,’ ” he mimicked, and his siblings laughed.
Looking over their heads, Colin said, “I can’t give her the house, Val. It’s mine.”
For a moment, she appeared to struggle with her opinion. However, when she spoke, it was to say, “Then you’d best shave. You look like a pirate rogue. And do you have a clean shirt?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he responded dutifully.
“Well, you’d best get on with it.” Scooting Emma off her lap, Val rose from the chair. “I’ll expect you for dinner either way. We need time to get reacquainted, don’t we? And I know the children would like a ride in that fancy London vehicle of yours—if everyone’s chores are done, and their hands and back behind their ears are washed.”
Nephews and niece all turned pleading eyes on him, and he could only say yes. His response was greeted with cheers, before the children charged off to happily do their mother’s bidding.
Colin turned to his brother. “Let’s go meet with Loftus.”
Within the hour, Matthew and Colin were on their way to Lord Loftus’s house in Downham. Matthew rode a nag that was half lame. After all his traveling, the mighty Oscar didn’t mind the slower gait, but Colin was restless. Rain was in the air. Increasingly larger clouds were drifting across the April sky, and he didn’t know if it was a good omen or bad. He was exhausted and at this point running on sheer willpower. He wanted Maiden Hill, and he wanted to stake his claim now.
Val’s words on behalf of Lady Rosalyn, in addition to the children’s reactions, haunted him. He knew the Valley. It was a close, opinionated community. If he wasn’t careful, in spite of the house being legally his, he could be the one ostracized—and he didn’t want that. Riding along familiar roads, seeing the curve of Pendle Hill and other landmarks that were important to his childhood, Colin realized this was home, and he’d missed being here. He’d been gone a long time. Too long, he realized heavily.
“Did they suffer?” he said abruptly.
Matt didn’t mistake his meaning. Colin asked after their parents, who had passed away from an epidemic some five years ago. “No, their deaths were peaceful, and Father passed on a mere hour after Mother, which was good. You know neither one of them would be happy without the other.”
That was true. His parents had worshiped each other. As a child, when he’d been Boyd’s or Thomas’s age, Colin had taken pride in his parents’ obvious love for each other. “I wish I could have been here for them during that time.”
His brother hesitated a beat before saying carefully, “Colin, their deaths were sudden. There is no way you could have been present. In fact, the parish is fortunate we lost so few to that fever.” Matt paused. “The money you sent them over the years was appreciated. In fact, Val and I are grateful for what you’ve given us.”
Colin dismissed his brother’s gratitude with a shrug. He could have come. Maybe not when his parents had been sick, but at least once before they’d died. There had been occasions when he’d been sent to London, opportunities when he could have stolen a quick visit. He hadn’t. He’d had duties and people to see who could have advanced his career.
His excuses seemed insignificant now.
They rode in silence a moment, and then Colin dared to ask, “Do you ever wonder if our father had regrets? I mean, Father Ruley had plans for him. He said Father could have done anything he wanted. Instead, because he married Mother, he had to settle on being a cobbler.”
Matt gave his horse a kick. “No, he had no regrets, just as I’ve no regrets about marrying Val. He loved Mother very much.”
“I didn’t imply that you did,” Colin said, feeling a niggling of guilt, because he did think exactly just such a thing.
“Oh, I don’t expect you to understand, Colin. You’ve always been more ambitious than I…but Val is everything to me. I’m very happy.”
“Good,” Colin said, not understanding how such a headstrong woman like Val could make any man happy.
Matt laughed. “You were struck dumb when she lectured you on love. I wish you could have seen the look on your face. Of course, I agree with her, although I never thought of myself as a romantic.”
“With five children you must be doing something right.”
Colin’s observation made his brother laugh, and Colin couldn’t help but grin back. “I’m glad you are happy, Matt. However, you are right. I am more ambitious. I plan on marrying for all the old-fashioned reasons—wealth and connections.”
Matt frowned at Colin’s bald statement. “War has changed you.”
“Losing my opportunity at a knighthood changed me. They titled lesser men than me, Matt. I worked for it, I deserved it, and I won’t let opportunity pass me by again.”
“Is that sort of mercenary view of life going to satisfy you, Colin?”
“Yes.”
Matt shook his head. “It wouldn’t satisfy me.”
“Ah, but think of what I can do for your sons,” Colin said. “I can be their Father Ruley.”
“I want my sons to know what is truly important in life,” his brother, the Reverend, answered.
Before Colin could respond, the sound of hounds barking and the blare of a hunting horn interrupted them. War-trained senses alert, Oscar stopped dead in the road, picki
ng up his ears.
A beat later, a red fox charged through the thicket out onto the road in front of the horses. He paused, one foot poised in the air, seeming to look right at Colin.
It was a defining moment. Life was sometimes like that, moments when Colin felt a connection. He didn’t know why and he didn’t question. Experience had taught him to be aware of these moments, and right now, he felt incredible sympathy for the hunted.
The howling of the hounds grew louder.
“Run,” Colin told the fox, and as if the creature understood, it disappeared into a nearby water ditch.
Colin moved Oscar over to where he’d last seen the fox, guarding the spot.
A blink later, a pack of brown and white hunting hounds rushed the thicket, some jumping over it, some attempting to squeeze though impossibly tight spaces. Their tongues were hanging out of the sides of their mouths, and their eyes shone with the enjoyment of the chase.
Matt’s horse startled and did a little dance, almost unseating its rider.
Oscar stood his ground with relish. He’d been bred for battle, and a pack of dogs would not put him off. They’d meet his hooves. As the dogs moved toward him, he arched his neck and pawed the ground, warning them to beware.
Colin yelled at the pack, “Here now! Move on, move on.” The beasts circled, wary of the warhorse, but the scent of the fox present. One came too close, and Oscar kicked out, sending the dog tumbling. The others quickly backed to the other side of the road, putting distance between themselves and the horse’s vicious hooves.
“Tallyho!” a man’s voice shouted a split second before a horse sailed over the thicket, landing in the road ahead of them and almost stepping on two of the hounds. The horse faltered and then righted himself.
“Damn you, damn you,” the rider shouted at the dogs. “You almost got me thrown off!”
He was a portly fellow in drab squire’s dress and muddy top boots. Tufts of gray hair stood out over his ears under his hat, and his face was red with exertion. As his wild-eyed horse circled, he caught sight of Colin and Matt. “Sorry!” he said to them. “Didn’t know you were here. Could have jumped on you. Tally-ho’ed!”
“That you did,” Colin agreed. “How are you, Lord Loftus? I see you still enjoy the hunt.”
“Mandland!” Loftus exclaimed, at last having sufficient wits to recognize them. “You’re home!”
“Yes, my lord. I had to return.”
“And so you have!” Loftus barked back. “Looks fine as a fiddle, don’t he, Reverend?” He suddenly frowned, his capricious mind changing its thought. “But demmed me! I’m looking for a fox! He ran through here somewhere. Look at the demmed dogs. Running around in circles. Bah! Couldn’t find a fox if I hung the blasted beast around their necks. You two haven’t seen a fox, have you?”
“No, my lord,” Matt said quickly.
“I thought I saw a flash of red up the way there,” Colin answered, pointing in the opposite direction, gratified by his brother’s quick collusion. “Didn’t you see it, Matt? Way up yonder.”
“Up yonder? Not even close?” Loftus questioned. He pulled his hat off his head and beat it against his thighs at the dogs. “Why, oh, why can’t you catch that blasted fox?” The hounds were apparently accustomed to and unafraid of these diatribes. They sat on their haunches and waited for his tantrum to subside, which it did, as abruptly as it had come.
Loftus smashed the hat back on his head and turned to Colin. “I’ve been hunting this fox all season. Haven’t even gotten close to him!”
Colin nodded sympathetically and hoped his new furry friend had the good sense to keep himself hidden in the drainage ditch for a good long while.
“Oh, well,” Loftus said, turning philosophical, “there’s naught to do now. But I will catch him. One of these days. Where are you gentlemen off to?”
“We were on our way to see you,” Colin answered.
Loftus’s face broke out in a welcoming smile. “Good then! I’m ready to share a toddy. I’d wager you have good tales from the war. I want to hear all about it. Everything! Heard of your exploits. Made the Valley proud! Come along, come along.” He didn’t wait but turned his horse toward Downham. The dogs fell in behind him.
Colin flashed Matt a smile. Lady Rosalyn wasn’t the only one to have Loftus’s ear.
The ride didn’t take long. Loftus barked out questions about Colin’s war years in between snapping orders to his dogs and cursing the fox’s cunning. In such fashion they arrived at Downham Manor, his lordship’s ancestral seat. Stable lads came running up to collect dogs and horses.
The door opened and Harkness, Loftus’s butler, stepped out to say, “My lord, you have a guest—”
“I have other guests, too!” Loftus said jovially. “Remember young Colin Mandland? Boyd the cobbler’s devil-to-the-bit son? Here he is now! A war hero! Fetch us some hot toddies, and double the whiskey. Is my lady at home?”
“Yes, my lord. She is in the sitting room with—”
“Perfect! Right where I want her. She likes the Reverend and will want to see our war hero.” Even though he was at least a foot shorter, Loftus reached up and clapped Colin on the shoulder with generous bonhomie.
“My lord,” Harkness stressed, attempting to get his master’s attention, “you have another guest—”
“Yes! Yes! Hop to, man. Double the whiskey!” Loftus strode through the door and stomped the mud off his boots on the black and white tiles of the marble floor. “Give Harkness your hats, gentlemen, and then follow me.” He didn’t wait but strutted toward the adjacent room, a cherry-panel-lined room with green velvet upholstered furniture and a cheery fire.
“Thank you, Harkness,” Matt said, handing the butler his hat. “How is your wife feeling?”
“Better, thanks to the soup Mrs. Mandland sent over,” Harkness said, a trace of Yorkshire in his voice. “Those lads of yours are good ones. Delivered it without spilling a drop.”
“Good,” Matt answered, pleased, and Colin realized that, like a military uniform, the cleric’s collar allowed a man to travel through almost any walk of society, although there was a ceiling to how far a man could rise. Colin bitterly wished he’d been more politically astute and less set on leading his men well.
Nor did he have Matt’s grace to accept his class.
“Harkness! Toddies!” Loftus ordered from the doorway, impatient to lead his guests in.
The butler bowed to attend his duties, leaving Matt and Colin to follow their host. They didn’t go far. Lady Loftus came out into the hall. She was a petite woman, well rounded and matronly, with sparkling blue eyes and rosy cheeks. “My lord, I have urgent and important business to discuss with you—”
She pulled up short, her eyebrows rising in surprise. “Reverend Mandland,” she said, her voice going up high on the last syllable. “And this must be your brother, the heroic Colonel Mandland.”
Loftus grinned at Colin. “See, I told you we were all paying attention. Know everything you did against the French. Proud of you, we are.”
“Yes, we are,” Lady Loftus agreed, faintly sounding anything but enthusiastic or welcoming.
And then Colin understood her quandary. He looked past his hosts to inside the room. There, rising from a chair in front of a tray of biscuits and cakes where she and Lady Loftus had apparently been having a cozy chat, was Lady Rosalyn, her expression pinched and guarded.
She was no happier to see Colin than he was to see her.
Chapter Three
Rosalyn rose slowly to her feet, uncertain if she was ready to confront her new nemesis, Colonel Mandland.
She’d placed the deed in a leather folder and hadn’t let it go from the moment she’d entered Downham Manor. The colonel’s sharp gaze went immediately to the folder. She wrapped her arms protectively around it, and the air between them crackled with the same energy that heralded a storm.
His eyes met hers. She knew he would stop at nothing to get what was his. He was that sort of man.
Well, he wasn’t going to get Maiden Hill.
Lord and Lady Loftus were going through the niceties of introductions. They were such dear friends.
Lord Loftus was saying in his endearing, abrupt manner, “Lady Rosalyn, you know Reverend Mandland? Course you do. This is his brother. Colonel Mandland. War hero! Made us all proud in the Valley. Colonel, Lady Rosalyn tells us when to sit down and when to stand up. Can’t plan anything without her. Isn’t that right, Reverend?”
Not waiting for a response, Lord Loftus then did something he always did when introducing Rosalyn to eligible bachelors; knowing his tactlessly loveable character, she had not let it bother her—until now, when he leaned toward Colonel Mandland and said, “She is a catch. A prime filly. If I was single, I’d throw a rope around her. Put her in my stable!”
Rosalyn could have died from the embarrassment, and it wasn’t anything she hadn’t heard him say fifty times before. This time was different.
Colonel Mandland’s expression may have appeared pleasantly composed to the others, but she caught the curl in his lips. He was laughing—at her. She could read his mind as clearly as her own, and she didn’t like it one bit.
“Lady Rosalyn,” the colonel murmured with a small bow.
If he thought he could toy with her, he was wrong. She had rank in this room.
Tightening her hold on the leather folder, she dared to speak up. “My lord, I beg a moment of your time alone to speak to you about business of the most urgent nature.”
“Eh? Urgent?” Lord Loftus turned anxious. He glanced at his wife, who already knew some of the story and hovered worriedly nearby. “Why my dear child, you are upset. It wasn’t my little comment there? My wife has always warned me to not take advantage of your good humor. You know I admire you.”
“Yes, my lord, I do. And, no, I’m not upset about anything you could say—” Which was not true. His forward comments grated her nerves to no end. Her most reassuring smile plastered on her face, she started for the door. “But please, a moment alone—”
The Seduction of an English Lady Page 3