“Quite fine, thank you,” said Mrs. Warton.
“A tea tray will be arriving shortly,” Audrey said. “Would you care to sit down?”
“I am already seated, Mrs. Blake,” Mrs. Warton said, sounding almost immediately as if she regretted the words.
And Audrey liked her for it. “You’ll have to excuse me. I make those mistakes often.”
“If you do not mind my saying, my friends in Hedgerley were speaking quite openly of their delight in meeting you,” Mrs. Warton explained.
“People don’t know what to expect of a blind woman,” Audrey admitted. “Isn’t that true, Blythe?”
She knew she caught her sister off guard, and felt glad and guilty at the same time. Why should she feel guilty? Blythe was always worried about what people would say if they took Audrey into their own village.
“It is true,” Blythe murmured, adding nothing else.
“Some can be so sheltered,” Mrs. Warton said. “It is good to shake things up a bit.”
Audrey’s smile widened. She already liked this woman.
“Ladies?”
She heard Robert’s voice coming from the doorway. “Lord Knightsbridge, I am so glad you could join us. Allow me to introduce the vicar’s wife, Mrs. Warton.”
“A pleasure, my lord,” the woman breathed, her voice dipping as she most likely sank into a curtsy. She sounded both awed and amazed, as if she hadn’t quite believed that the earl had graced their village.
The tea arrived at that moment, and Audrey took her time serving everyone. She knew she was on display, as she would always be, and didn’t mind the attention.
“Mrs. Warton,” Audrey began, “I mentioned to your husband that I would enjoy becoming involved in philanthropic endeavors in the village. Can you tell me what programs the church hosts?”
Mrs. Warton enlightened them for long minutes about the Female Aid Society and the Soup Distribution Society. Audrey wondered if Robert was nodding off, although he asked polite questions about the scope of their charities, and Mrs. Warton’s opinion on how best to expand their coverage through other villages near his estate. There was even a group who knitted for newborn babies, something Audrey could do to give her a purpose in the evenings after she’d ended things with Robert, and she was alone.
As Mrs. Warton departed, she promised to invite Audrey to her next women’s society meeting.
Audrey sat back down, satisfied.
“You will soon be behaving like an old married woman,” Blythe commented dourly.
“Doing works of charity?” Audrey said in surprise. “I’ll enjoy helping my new parish. I wish I could have done more when I still lived at home.”
Blythe ignored that. “I have letters to write before dinner. If you’ll excuse me, Audrey, Lord Knightsbridge.”
And then she was alone with Robert, and that morning’s scandalous suggestion about an affair might as well have been shouted in the room again, for how much it had dwelt on and off in her mind through the day. She felt the sofa sag as he sat down beside her.
“Now don’t get all stiff with me, Audrey,” he said, his tone full of amusement. “I don’t think you’re behaving like an old married woman.”
She sighed. “I do not care what my sister thinks. She does not have to live here and get to know people. This is the best way.”
“She’s used to Society and balls and dinners.”
“Exactly.”
“Which she left behind to come here.”
“It is curious,” Audrey murmured, then added even more softly, “She might hear us.”
“Then I’ll close the door.”
He left her side so quickly, all she could say was, “But Robert—”
“Engaged, remember?”
She heard the lock click, and regretted the sharp little thrill that danced its way right up through her body. He was going to try to convince her to be his lover again—how would he do it?
But instead of romantic persuasion, he said, “Mr. Drayton stopped by while you were in the garden. I asked him about the missing ledgers, and he swore they were always in your study, and that he hadn’t accidentally taken them.”
“That doesn’t help us,” she said glumly.
“He seemed . . . reluctant to discuss all of this, which I found unusual.”
“Perhaps because Rose Cottage isn’t yours?”
He chuckled. “I am an earl, Audrey, and engaged to you. Of course he would discuss it with me.”
“Of course,” she answered dryly.
“He went on about several new tenant openings, and the autumn activity on the farms, but . . . I felt like he was distracting me.”
“How strange,” she said, now thoroughly distracted by the mystery herself.
“I admit, he might have felt defensive, as if I were questioning him, when really, I was simply trying to get to the bottom of this mystery. He showed no hesitation about letting me peruse his copy of the most recent ledger, and I saw nothing to make me suspicious about the last few months. But of course, maybe the real ledger and the copy are a little different.”
“Did he know you suspected that?” she asked.
“No. I have no cause to believe foul of him, and he’s done excellent work these last few years with the estate.”
“I imagine you let him know you quite admired his dedication and service,” she said, hiding a smile.
“It’s always important to praise your men.”
“Your soldiers?” she teased.
“He works for you, hence, he’s quite like a soldier. Praise for a subordinate was not something I saw growing up.”
Smiling, she said, “A subordinate—you mean a servant.”
“Or man of business, but yes. My father believed in authority and dominance, not in praising people for the work they were supposed to do regardless.”
“And you saw that in yourself,” she reminded him, feeling Blythe’s curiosity as her own.
“I did. I am grateful that the army showed me another way.”
The sofa dipped a little more, and then she felt his breath warm against her ear as he softly spoke.
“I could praise your beauty,” he murmured.
She shivered, excitement like a fluttering bird longing to be free. “That is not an accomplishment I can claim as my own, so no need to praise me.”
“I can praise your talents.”
He lifted her hand and slowly removed her glove, each tug making her tremble the harder.
When he had her fingers bare, he kissed each one. “These fingers caress the piano keys lovingly, bringing forth beautiful music.”
She laughed softly. “I have not even had a chance to practice since we came here.”
“And the piano stands quite forlorn. Do not ignore that part of yourself.”
“I must be blushing by now.”
“Pink cheeks, the brilliant shine in your golden eyes, that comes from you.”
He placed a soft kiss on her neck, just beneath her ear, and with a gasp, she bent her head to offer more to him. Her lips had been so sensitive to him—it was amazing that even her neck prickled with sensation at his touch. When he gently bit her earlobe, she shuddered.
He took her face in his hands and tilted her toward him. She was ready for his mouth this time, and enjoyed the masterful way his tongue explored her mouth, then met her own. She gasped and moaned, then found herself slowly falling backward on the sofa as he leaned over her. They continued urgent kisses, while his hand moved from her waist and slowly up her bodice, cupping her breast through the corset, such a scandalous thing.
She enjoyed the naughtiness a moment too long, then broke the kiss with a gasp. “It is almost time for dinner. A servant could come looking for us any moment.”
He pressed kisses down her throat, dipping his tongue in the hollow at its base. “I locked the door.”
“But that is so suspicious.”
“We are engaged—”
“We are not!”
; “Then let us be lovers.”
“No, please, I cannot think about such things now.”
He rose away from her, drawing her back upright by both hands.
“My glove?” she asked, feeling for it all around her.
“On the floor.” He put it into her hands. “I have not lost hope that you will change your mind.”
“I cannot tell you what to think,” she said shakily, rising to her feet and then catching the back of the nearby chair to steady herself.
Putting his arm around her waist from behind, he pulled her up against him and whispered into her hair, “Your body wants me.”
“Then thank goodness my mind rules my body.”
He chuckled, then released her. “I will leave you to your sister’s company this evening, as I have an early meeting tomorrow.”
“You will not come?”
“Is that regret I hear?”
“I—I only wish to plan my schedule.”
“Liar,” he whispered, and kissed her cheek. “I will come to you, but I don’t know when.”
“You are busy, Robert. I do not need to be coddled.”
“I have taken Molly’s place, and I will not let you down.”
“I do have letters to write . . .”
“My tutor used to claim I had excellent penmanship, probably far superior to your sister.”
“I would never ask Blythe to write my letters.” And that seemed so sad to her.
He must have realized it, for he said nothing for a moment.
“Have a good evening, Audrey.”
And then he was gone, and the room seemed so empty without him. She tugged her glove back on, buttoning it at the wrist, trying not to think of his mouth there. Oh, she had to stop this longing.
She considered the piano, so neglected, the perfect thing to occupy her mind. Seating herself on the bench, she lifted the cover and played several chords. The instrument wasn’t exactly in tune, but close enough. She started playing, and lost herself in the beauty of such pure, blissful sound. She didn’t know how long she played, but when at last she paused between songs, she heard soft clapping.
“As beautiful as always,” Blythe said.
Audrey heard honesty rather than jealousy, and smiled. “Thank you. Before he left, Robert mentioned I had not played since we arrived.”
“And it’s obvious, because as I came downstairs, Mrs. Sanford and both her children were standing in the hall, entranced.”
“Oh.” Audrey bent her head, surprised. Music had always separated Blythe and her.
“And then I stepped inside, and for just a moment, I saw you as others must when you play, because it seemed as if you were not blind.” And then in a contemplative voice, “I have no real memory of that.”
“You were but two when we both took ill.”
“I remember being very, very hot.”
“I, as well. What else do you remember?”
Blythe said nothing for a moment, and Audrey wondered if she’d gone too far. Her sister was always a woman who lived for the future, and what it might hold for her.
“Nothing,” Blythe said woodenly. “I was two, as you said.”
But for a moment, Audrey thought she’d been about to say something else.
When Robert arrived at Rose Cottage midmorning the next day, Francis told him that Audrey and her sister had gone to Hedgerley. Robert couldn’t be surprised that Blythe would need something to do. Why hadn’t she escorted her sister to their own village? Audrey seemed to want to put it behind her and start anew, but Robert wasn’t so forgiving. He worried that Miss Collins would fall into her old family patterns and try to control Audrey’s every move.
Gray clouds overhead threatened rain, but that didn’t stop him from leaving Rose Cottage. As he rode down the country lane, the dark clouds scudding away, he remembered the sweet smell of Audrey’s neck, the blush that had swept her face and down beneath her bodice. He’d longed to explore, though one touch of the forbidden had made her stop. But he’d gone a step further, and if he’d been patient . . .
He urged his horse into a trot, the better to put such rousing memories aside.
He was almost relieved when it was difficult to find the sisters. No crowds gathered somewhere to stare, no fuss being made. But the first time he’d escorted Audrey there, he’d seen the looks, heard the whispers, and worried that it would be far worse when he wasn’t there to deflect it.
He found the women at the millinery, where Miss Collins was trying on hats, looking in a mirror and discussing a purchase with the fawning owner, an older woman corseted into too tight a gown.
As Robert closed the door behind him, he saw Audrey seated on a stool, her face lifted to the sunlight streaming between parting clouds through the plate-glass windows. Her fingers touched a selection of ribbons.
She cocked her head toward the door, and as he walked toward her, her expression brightened. “Lord Knightsbridge.”
It wasn’t a question.
He grinned and lifted her gloved hand to kiss the back. “Mrs. Blake.”
She blushed prettily and drew her hand back as if their affection should be private. “I am surprised you joined our ladies’ shopping expedition.”
He glanced at her sister, who gave him a polite smile, then returned to the adoration of her mirror. To Audrey, he said, “I was concerned Miss Collins might fall back on old habits in the village and forget all about you. Is she helping you to select a bonnet, too?”
“She asked, and I said she could go first.”
He released the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “Very well, then.” It seemed positively unmanly to be concerned that a woman might not be able to shop.
Audrey smiled at him, then, a secret smile that said she understood him. He felt revealed to her in a way he’d never expected with a woman—especially a blind woman. It wasn’t a comfortable feeling.
“I admit,” Audrey continued in a lower voice, “that I have been using this day to see if my sister really means to change her treatment of me.”
“And so far?”
“So far, so good. We do have firm disagreements on how a lady should spend her day. I delayed our departure this morn so I could consult with Mrs. Sanford, leading my sister to say I am too concerned with details rather than enjoyments.”
“You spent your life concerned with the details she ignored,” he said stiffly.
Audrey sighed. “Managing our household gave me some measure of control in the little world I had been permitted. Now I have the freedoms of a larger world, and I find I still fall back on my old, managing ways. But I am coping. You are not to worry about me,” she admonished in a mock stern voice.
He had made it his duty to see her happy and contented, and he was concerned that the arrival of her sister would make things worse.
As Audrey took her turn trying on bonnets and hats, Robert watched her force happiness on Miss Collins, who still seemed reserved and tenuous, as if she expected people to shun them because of Audrey’s debility.
Late morning, he escorted them through a stiff wind to a coffee house that faced the village green. While their hands curled around steaming cups of coffee, warming them from the inside out, Audrey smiled at her sister.
“Thank you for helping me to choose a bonnet. I do believe a new one makes me feel prettier.”
“You’re very welcome,” Miss Collins said, her gaze contemplating her coffee.
Audrey took another sip and let out a sigh. “That tastes good. I like the fact that I can come into the village and enjoy such things. Blythe, since you think my concern for charity is too obvious, can you think of other ways I could better involve myself with the village and its people?”
Miss Collins set down her cup and it rattled the saucer. She glanced at Robert a bit wide-eyed, obviously surprised and flustered.
“I imagine,” she said slowly, “that you should entertain. And then they will reciprocate.”
“Very true,” Audrey mused.
“Once they get to know me, my opinion will have more merit. I would really like to discuss housing. From speaking with my tenants, I do see a need for more building of humble, yet sound, housing.”
“Audrey, we are women,” Miss Collins said, her expression bewildered. “Why would you think the men would care about our opinions on anything other than dinner parties and children and the running of households?”
Robert could tell Audrey hesitated to say the truth, that she’d spent too many years powerless in her home, and wouldn’t live that way any longer.
“Blythe, I am a landowner now, and my concerns are for many more people than myself. I know this world is slanted toward men, but if I have good ideas, why should they not listen?”
“Speaking as the only man at this table,” Robert said dryly, “I find myself understanding Miss Collins’s concerns. Many men do not want a woman’s opinion.”
“And are you one of them, my lord?” Miss Collins demanded.
A little protective toward Audrey. A good sign. “I should hope my assistance in escorting Mrs. Blake to her home, and being available for support rather than domination, has proven my restraint.”
Miss Collins didn’t look reassured. So she didn’t trust him, and he didn’t trust her. Interesting.
He turned to Audrey. “I did learn something from my steward this morning. While I was gone, there was a need for humble cottages for short-term agricultural workers. Because of this, some cottagers were forced to move into the village and are now living in the close quarters of rooming houses. I know this is the way of the world, but I don’t like it. Perhaps we can discuss the building of more cottages with parish magistrates.”
Audrey smiled. “I’d like that!”
He thought Miss Collins might have wanted to roll her eyes.
“Excuse me, Mrs. Blake?”
A matronly woman with a reticule clutched beneath her ample bosom approached. Robert rose, and when she looked up at him, her lips parted until she collected herself.
“Lord Knightsbridge,” she said, giving a little curtsy.
He bowed. “Ma’am.”
“I feel very forward introducing myself to you.”
“Oh, allow me,” Audrey said. “You’re Mrs. Edgeworth, are you not?”
“I—you remember!” Mrs. Edgeworth said, her expression one of surprise.
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