Star-Crossed Summer

by Sarah Stanley

  ‘There is.’ He drew a long breath and ran his fingers through his hair. ‘Forgive me for displaying such a lamentable lack of control. It would have been bad enough to have sounded off to another gentleman, but to have done it to a mere agent is shameful.’

  ‘Hardly shameful.’

  He gave a penitent smile. ‘There aren’t many things on this earth guaranteed to enrage me, but anything to do with Greylake achieves it every time. I loathe everything about that man, and the feeling is mutual. Our lands adjoin, but we have as little to do with each other as possible.’

  ‘What happened between you?’ she asked.

  ‘It’s an old feud that goes back generations, but with this generation it has become unpleasantly personal.’

  She put a tentative hand on his sleeve. ‘I cannot believe there is anyone with whom you do not get along.’

  He relaxed and grinned. ‘My wit and charm render such a thing impossible?’

  ‘Yes,’ she replied truthfully.

  His eyes were warm. ‘Do they work upon you, Miss Mannacott?’

  ‘Yes.’ But there was a hesitation he could not help but notice.

  ‘Indecision?’

  ‘I cannot tell you about them, but there are reasons I escaped to Exmoor.’

  ‘A cruel husband?’ he asked.

  ‘No, nothing like that. There is no one else.’ Just an impossible fantasy.

  ‘I won’t press you for more than you’re prepared to give.’ Embarrassed, he ran his hand through his hair again. ‘I swear upon my honour that I have never behaved as forwardly as this before.’

  ‘Nor have I, sir,’ she replied truthfully.

  ‘It’s ridiculous to be formal after what has just been said. My name is Landry, and I beg you let me call you Beth.’ He glanced toward the ever-present footman. ‘One has no privacy in one’s own house,’ he added, smiling.

  The head groom and a boy led the horses around, and Landry again offered her his arm. His hand rested briefly over hers as they went down the steps to the gravel, where two grooms waited. He cast an appreciative eye over the Hanoverian. ‘You’ve turned him out so well, Johns, that I’m almost of a mind not to sell him. However, take him up and down a little, to show Miss Mannacott his paces.’

  The groom led Snowy around, slowly at first, and then at a run that stretched the horse to a quick trot. Beth held her breath as she watched. Snowy had been brushed until his coat shone, and his mane and forelock rippled. Landry smiled at her. ‘A handsome lad, eh?’

  ‘Quite magnificent,’ she said, as Johns brought the horse back.

  ‘We can ride along behind Haldane Cliffs and into Stone Valley, of which seeing is believing. You will never have encountered its like before. Anyway, we’ll be able to give Snowy a good stretch.’

  They rode down the drive toward the gates, and were almost there when a young woman and a little girl emerged from the lodge. The woman was blonde, blue-eyed and exceptionally slender, with an exquisitely delicate face and complexion. Her skin was so clear it was perfect, and her cheeks were flushed an unnatural pink. The little girl, who’d waved from the upstairs window earlier, was about nine years old, a solemn creature with the same colouring as the woman, who had to be her mother. Landry reined in and doffed his top hat, smiling. ‘Good day to you, Carrie.’

  ‘Good day, sir,’ said the woman, her large eyes flickering to Beth.

  ‘I trust all is well at the lodge?’

  ‘Yes, all is well.’ There was a definite Devon burr in the soft voice, and Beth could not but be aware of the warmth in her eyes as she looked at Landry.

  ‘Be sure to send word to me if you need anything,’ he said.

  ‘I will, sir.’ Carrie turned away suddenly to cough. ‘Forgive me, sir, it was one of those tickles.’

  He looked down at the little girl. ‘And how are you, Katie?’

  ‘I’m very well, thank you.’

  ‘Are you looking after Mama?’

  She looked at Carrie and then nodded at him. ‘She’s been very good.’

  ‘I’m pleased to hear it.’ He leaned down to put his hand under the girl’s chin, tickling her briefly. ‘And how is the puppy?’

  She giggled and put a conspiratorial finger to her lips, then gestured for him to lean down again. ‘Pompey wees on the floor and Mama gets very cross,’ she whispered in a way that would have carried from the stage up to the gods.

  He laughed. ‘Sweeting, Mama is quite right to be cross. You must tap his nose if he does it again, or you must clean up after him. If you don’t want to do that, you must make sure he doesn’t wee in the house.’

  Beth looked anew at Carrie. The woman hadn’t taken her eyes from Landry. She did not bother to hide her love for him, and obviously did not care who else knew either. What of her husband? If there was a husband, of course. Beth’s heart sank as a new possibility struck her. She watched Landry and Katie. Was there a likeness? Something in the line of the jaw and tilt of the head?

  Landry gathered Rollo’s reins. ‘Well, good day to you both,’ he said to mother and daughter, and tapped his top hat on again.

  ‘And to you, sir,’ Carrie replied.

  Beth and Landry rode on through the gates, and then turned toward the village. ‘Who are they?’ Beth asked at last, unable to contain her interest.

  His turquoise eyes were reluctant. ‘To answer that I need to be painfully honest with you,’ he replied, and her heart sank further, for she guessed what he was going to say. ‘Katie is my daughter, and Carrie Markham, who was a housemaid at the hall, is her mother. Which proves me to be a hypocrite after all that righteous pulpit-thundering earlier.’

  Perturbed, Beth didn’t know how to respond. Until now she had not been able to imagine Landry had feet of clay, but it seemed he did. She glanced to the left, and saw they were passing the churchyard and rectory. The sunlight was glancing off the rectory windows, and she could see Harriet gathering roses in the garden, her face shaded by a gypsy hat.

  ‘You disapprove, don’t you?’ Landry reined in and forced her to do the same. ‘Well, so do I, but I am doing my best by them both. I seduced Carrie, I cannot deny it, and she bore my child. I have acknowledged Katie and I keep them both. They lack for nothing.’

  ‘Do – do you still visit her?’ The question slipped out before Beth realized it was in her mind. Heaven help her, she was jealous of Carrie Markham!

  ‘No.’ He regarded her for a long moment. ‘Beth? Do you think me shabby?’

  ‘You, sir, are a gentleman, and no matter how many children you sire, you will remain a gentleman. Carrie and her like are not only left with proof of your profligacy, but they lose their reputations as well. And Katie will have the stigma of illegitimacy.’

  ‘If you imagine Devon to be littered with my by-blows, you are gravely mistaken. Katie is my only child. She is well cared for, has tutors and is being taught how to be a lady. At the moment she wants to stay with her mother at the lodge, and I am not monster enough to force her to come to me instead. When she is of age I will see that she has goodly sum, so she will attract suitable offers of marriage. If I marry and have legitimate children, she will be treated on an equal footing with them. As for Carrie’s reputation, you have my word that she had lost it before I entered her bed. Having a child by me has been her salvation, because I will always care for her. Beth, I do not wish this to change things between us. I could have lied.’

  ‘I’d already observed the likeness between Katie and you.’

  ‘Then I’m relieved I chose to be truthful. Beth, I swear that I have done all in my power to be fair and kind to Carrie, and I love Katie as a father should love his child. I don’t visit Carrie now, nor have I since Katie was born. I have no other mistresses dotted around the countryside, nor do I keep one in London. I am interested in you, and only you. Please say you believe me.’ He leaned across to put a hand over hers, and she knew that it would be unfair to judge him; there were few gentlemen who had not reaped at least one crop of
wild oats. It was clear he was treating Carrie and Katie well, and he’d been open about it as soon as she’d asked. What more could she expect of any man? His hand was warm through their gloves, and his thumb moved gently against her palm. ‘I have never desired a woman as I desire you, Beth,’ he said softly. ‘My heart, body and soul sparked into harmony when I saw you that first time.’

  Her heart rushed with excitement as she allowed her sensuality full rein. She didn’t want to stop, and was determined to look past Guy’s image to see Landry, in the hope that Guy would become more indistinct before fading altogether. But a stirring of guilt made her glance toward Harriet, who still didn’t appear to have noticed them. ‘I’d prefer to speak in more privacy,’ she said.

  He followed her glance. ‘Very well, we’ll ride on, but only if you assure me you do not harbour secret fears that Harriet Bellamy has some claim to wear my ring.’

  ‘I don’t fear it.’ I just know she loves you.

  ‘Good. Come on then.’ He urged Rollo away at a slow canter.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Beth guided Snowy after Landry, and soon caught him up. They rode side by side through Haldane, causing quite a stir among those villagers who saw them. Within the hour news of Mr Haldane’s ride with Miss Mannacott would spread everywhere. Apart from the area around the green, the few village streets were winding and narrow, with old stone cottages, several small shops and two taverns. And there was a smithy that again brought Jake into Beth’s thoughts. She should have taken him into her confidence and told him she was leaving; it was the least he deserved. Now there were things she ought to say to Landry, but didn’t dare to. She was a thief living under a false name, and if caught might also be charged with Joshua’s murder. Common sense dictated she should keep herself to herself, and abandon all thought of taking this man, no matter how gallant and charming, as her lover. Far wiser to continue dreaming the impossible, that Guy was her devoted lover, and everything in her world was perfect.

  Landry spoke. ‘A penny for your thoughts,’ he said, as they began to ride out of the village, past some fine new houses and a handsome classical villa that commanded panoramic views of the Bristol Channel.

  She struggled to collect herself. ‘I – I was thinking that Haldane seems to be enjoying new popularity,’ she said, knowing how unconvincing it sounded. She gestured toward the villa.

  ‘It’s a new country home for the Dowager Lady Bettersden, an elderly lady who was my mother’s childhood friend. She has always resided in London, but is soon to come here instead. I think she grows tired of the glittering lives of the ton.’

  ‘Whose are the other new houses?’

  ‘Mine, to be let to those who appreciate natural and picturesque scenery.’

  ‘But excluding radical poets?’ she answered mischievously.

  He answered with a laugh. ‘Especially not such alarming fellows!’ He kicked his heels to urge Rollo faster.

  The valley undulated gently for two miles or so, descending gradually to low oak-clad cliffs around a rocky bay. Nothing was walled or cultivated now, there was just wild common land grazed by sheep and cattle. A hare bounded away from a tuft of heather, and a rare black adder basked on a flat, sunny rock. Blue butterflies fluttered over vivid yellow gorse, and grasshoppers sang all around. Thyme and heather flavoured the air, with the background freshness of the sea to invigorate the soul. Sandstone and shale boulders were scattered on the grass as if by a giant hand, while others were balanced on top of one another in strange natural formations. Stone rested upon stone, slab upon slab, rising in bare crags, pinnacles, towers and castellated turrets that resembled the ruins of a lost civilization. It was a dry and desolate place, yet so hauntingly beautiful and romantic that Beth could well imagine how it inspired poets like Shelley. Then she looked at the summit of Haldane Cliffs and saw wild goats. Surely not! But yes, there they were, billies, nannies and kids, all agile and surefooted in their precipitous surroundings. Astonished, she reined in. ‘Goats?’

  Landry rode back to join her. ‘The scourge of Haldane. Seventy-five of their ancestors were recorded in the Domesday Book, and there are about that many here now, and they’re not well liked because their favourite sport is to butt unwary sheep off the cliffs. Not an endearing trait.’

  They rode slowly on toward a higgledy-piggledy tower of massive rocks that rose like a huge crumbling lighthouse in the centre of the valley. A buzzard soared around the summit, its screeching cries echoing along the slopes. The horses slowed to a walk as they passed by, and Beth could hear the sea breeze playing among the rocks. Beyond, where the valley dipped again toward the rocky bay, they were confronted by the remains of an ancient stone circle, some of the sarsens still standing, others lying on the ground. Landry glanced at Beth. ‘This is claimed by some to be evidence of druidic occupation. There are supposed to have been pagan ceremonies here, with human sacrifices hurled from the cliffs.’

  ‘Death from the cliffs appears to be rather a risk hereabouts, what with goat-butted sheep, lovelorn maidens turning into mermaids and now human sacrifices.’

  ‘Dower House tenants are perfectly safe,’ he assured her.

  ‘I sincerely hope so.’

  ‘Well, what the circle may once have looked like is no longer known, because over the centuries it has been plundered of its stones. My family isn’t blameless. The two tallest sarsens were removed by my great-grandfather and used as gateposts at the original hall. That house didn’t meet with my grandfather’s aspirations, so he demolished it and built anew, keeping the old gates.’ He gathered the reins again. ‘Come on, we’ll ride to the top of Oak Bay, and then come back to take lunch. Well, more a picnic,’ he explained, ‘at a particular spot with matchless views over the sea. Up there.’ He pointed back toward the top of Haldane Cliffs.

  Beth was a little alarmed. ‘Among those murderous goats?’

  ‘We’ll come to no harm.’

  They rode on toward the bay, where waves broke around the rocks below, and excited gulls swooped upon hovering kestrels. There were sails out on the water, and across the channel they could see the crowns of the Brecon Beacons shimmering amid the inland heat haze of Wales. After pausing for a while to rest the horses, Landry grinned at Beth. ‘The time is right for a cool white Chablis from a crystal glass. Come, let me lead you to my lair.’ Returning past the stone circle and tower of rocks, he turned Rollo toward the foot of the slope behind Haldane Cliffs, and reined in by a knot of golden gorse bushes around a rock-shaded dip. Beth expected this to be where they would eat, but when Landry dismounted and came around to help her down as well, she realized there was no hamper or any sign of the promised refreshment. He indicated a narrow path that led up toward the cliff top. ‘Our feast waits up there, where there is a secret little nook to which I have been coming since I was a child. It is perfect for a picnic, and you will be the first person I have ever taken there.’

  ‘I’m honoured.’

  ‘Indeed so, Beth, because you are very special.’ He held his arms up, and she slid down into them. She was in his embrace for a second, alive to the contours of his body, and the fact that his lips were close enough to kiss. So much had happened to her since her father died, and she’d only felt safe and loved in Jake’s arms. She needed to be loved, both physically and mentally, and Landry Haldane was here, now, with desire in his eyes. Would there really be any harm done if he were her lover?

  He took her hand to help her up the slope, and they were almost halfway when she saw an antler lying under a clump of bright mauve heather. Landry smiled as she bent to retrieve it. ‘Now you’ll have good luck, for they are considered very fortunate. Let me carry it for you.’ They reached the top to find the Bristol Channel spread matchlessly before them. The cliff fell sheer to the water some 600 feet below, so Landry made sure Beth kept well back from the edge as he guided her between two lichen-covered rocks. Then she saw the secret place, a small grassy hollow that was open to the sea, but otherwise protected by the cl
iff. From it one could look right across to Wales, as well as south-west along the edge of the cliffs toward Oak Bay, which was hidden by a small bluff. Beth sat down and made herself comfortable against a rock, and as she gazed over the sea, it was as if she were flying.

  Landry was so relaxed with her that he took off his coat, undid his neck cloth and unbuttoned his brocade waistcoat, which flouted etiquette. But then so did an intimate picnic à deux. ‘I came up here at dawn to prepare everything,’ he explained, indicating a hamper tucked carefully in the shade, and the bottle of Chablis submerged in a little mossy pool of rainwater and dew beneath an overhanging tuft of thick grass and heather. He grinned sheepishly. ‘You see, I schemed to be alone with you like this.’

  Their gaze met, and the air became charged again. She was aware of the paler skin where he’d shaved off his moustache and side-whiskers, of the sunlight casting shadows through his eyelashes, and vulnerability of his throat; he was aware of her dainty beauty, the sweetness of her mouth, the mystery in her eyes, and the allure that seemed to pervade the very air around her. He wanted her so much that his body threatened to make his desire embarrassingly clear.

  ‘This is happening too quickly,’ she breathed, unable to look away from him.

  He smiled. ‘I’ve been waiting for you all my life, Beth, but you have my word that I will not do anything you do not wish.’ But she wished so much, and couldn’t trust herself to be strong. Or sensible. He took two stemmed glasses from the hamper, retrieved the wine bottle and set about opening it. Within moments he’d handed her a full glass. ‘I’ll wager wine will never have tasted as good before,’ he said, sitting next to her.

  No wine could be as good as a glass of Moselle handed to her by Sir Guy Valmer. She raised her glass. ‘Your health.’