Though conscious of Lady Parnell’s raised eyebrow, for it was not usual to detain guests in a reception line, Amanda couldn’t help asking, ‘You were advising him, he said. About the possible purchase of some property?’
‘My dear,’ Lady Englemere said to her husband, ‘other guests are waiting to speak with our hostess. Lady Parnell, would you mind if we kidnapped your lovely ward for a few moments?’
‘Not at all. I was about to release her anyway,’ her sponsor replied politely, her puzzled gaze following them as Amanda walked away.
‘Did Mr Anders tell you anything about his service aboard the Illustrious?’ Englemere asked.
Wondering what that had to do with Greville’s future, Amanda said, ‘He recounted some amusing incidents.’
‘Nothing about his own service?’
‘Not in detail. He told Papa most of it wasn’t fit for a maiden’s ears.’
Englemere laughed. ‘Just as I thought. Mr Anders is quite the hero, Miss Neville! A few weeks ago, we had the opportunity to host his commanding officer, Captain Harrington. The captain sang his praises, especially his courage during the battle with privateers. He credited Mr Anders with saving both his life and that of his first officer.’
‘I knew he’d been wounded in the action, but—why, he never said a word!’ Amanda exclaimed.
Englemere chuckled. ‘My cousin seems to have become a modest man, as well as a responsible one. For his efforts during that skirmish, he will be receiving a significant sum of prize money. He wished to have my advice on purchasing an estate to manage, an occupation for which your father has been giving him valuable experience and advice.’
‘Where do you think he intends to purchase property?’ she asked.
By now, Lady Englemere was looking at her as curiously as Lady Parnell had. Amanda knew she’d already passed from polite enquiry to an inquisitiveness that bordered on the ill mannered. But she couldn’t seem to help herself, so driven was she to discover as much as she could about him.
‘That has yet to be determined.’
‘I see,’ she said in a small voice. So there was no telling where in England he might end up. ‘Perhaps he will settle not too far distant from Ashton Grove,’ she said without much hope. As far as she knew, there weren’t any properties for sale in the neighbourhood. ‘I know Papa would enjoy continuing their association.’
‘I’m sure your father—and you—will encounter him often,’ Lady Englemere said evenly.
Amanda murmured a polite assent, but she didn’t believe it. With the Navy Board releasing him, he’d leave as soon as Papa recovered, which, she devoutly hoped, would occur long before her Season ended. By the time she went back to Ashton, he would be gone.
She might well never see him again.
As desolation chilled her to the soul, Mr Hillyard appeared, claiming her for the waltz she’d promised. Repeating the familiar politenesses by rote, she took leave of Englemere and his wife, and numbly let Hillyard lead her away.
Anxious to be on his way and back at Ashton Grove, at first light Greville rode out of London. Travelling by horseback, he hoped to reach Blenhem Hill within a few days and return to Devon in no more than a week.
Leaving early also removed the temptation to call again upon Amanda Neville—senseless as that action would be. Finding her alone, a circumstance he hadn’t anticipated, he’d seized the chance to ask the only question that mattered: whether the world she’d dreamed of entering had fulfilled her expectations. The enthusiasm on her face when she replied had been unmistakable.
She was well on her way to establishing herself in the position to which she’d always aspired, a hostess in a social realm that would never be his. Assured of her happiness, there’d been no need to say any more, to embarrass them both confessing a love that would make no difference. All that remained was to say goodbye, and he had.
His head understood all that. But for most of the long ride to Blenhem Hill, his heart resisted accepting it.
Other feelings surfaced as he neared the scene of his ill-fated employment. After the wrongs that had been visited upon the tenants while he sat in the manor house, arrogant self-indulgence blinding him to the abuse and embezzlement going on right under his nose, he suspected he might have been run out of Blenhen Hill, if Barksdale hadn’t knocked him over the head and whisked him away in the dead of night.
He doubted anyone around the estate would be pleased to see him. It would take determined effort, probably over a long period of time, to win back the respect of the people he’d failed to serve.
Such worthwhile and necessary work would keep his mind from drifting back to memories of Amanda Neville, he thought, ignoring the little voice that reminded him hard work had not yet produced that result. Some day, he trusted, he’d be able to think of her with an affection no longer laced with the acid of anguish.
After skirting the town of Hazelwick, he took the familiar road towards Blenhem Hill, noting with recently acquired expertise that many of the cottages were newly thatched, fences had been rebuilt of timber and stone, and most all of the fields were already ploughed. He passed several farms with workers about, a few even greeting him by name.
They hadn’t thrown rocks, at least.
Then he was pulling up his horse before the manor house. Somewhat to his surprise, the butler greeted him cordially, showed him to the parlour and promised to fetch his sister immediately. He barely had time to pace across the parlour, noting it was in its usual perfect order, when Joanna hurried in.
‘Greville!’ she cried, delight on her face. ‘How good it is to see you—and looking so well!’
‘All thanks to you, sister dear. I would otherwise still be painfully crawling back to health whilst holystoning the quarterdeck.’
‘Thanks to cousin Nicky as well. But, here comes Ned. I can’t wait for you to meet my husband!’
Not certain the man who’d had to repair Greville’s mistakes would be in any hurry to meet him, he prepared himself for some hard scrutiny.
Greaves had taken good care of his sister, too, Greville noted. Jo had always been a pretty lass, but now her pale skin and green eyes positively glowed. The tender look that passed between husband and wife as Sir Edward entered made him ache with longing and envy.
After the requisite introductions, Sir Edward said, ‘We’re delighted to see you, especially as it must mean you are feeling hale again.’
‘I am. More important than that, however, I understand congratulations are in order.’
‘Thank you,’ Joanna replied, her glow increasing as her husband pressed her hand. Greville suppressed another pang. Would he ever have a loving wife, a son to whom he could pass down the estate he planned to acquire? Such a prospect now seemed as remote as the moon.
‘Ned says Lord Englemere has sorted matters out with the Admiralty,’ his sister said. ‘I do hope that means the Coastal Brigade can spare you for a visit.’
‘I’m afraid not. Unfortunately, my kind host, Lord Bronning, recently suffered an attack and was ordered to bed.’
‘Good heavens!’ Sir Edward cried. ‘Is he doing better? He will recover, I trust.’
‘He is making steady progress, but in the interim, I’ve been assisting him on the estate. Learning a great deal…about things I should have known while I was here.’
He’d given Sir Edward a perfect opening, but his sister’s husband only said mildly, ‘There could be no better teacher.’
Some of Greville’s tension eased. Though Sir Edward was perfectly entitled to take Greville to task, apparently he did not intend to do so.
Despite Sir Edward’s forbearance, Greville felt compelled to continue, ‘Still, I must apologise—to you and especially the tenants. Barksdale might have inflicted the actual injuries, but I allowed it to happen.’
Sir Edward nodded. ‘It sounds as if you’ve experienced a sea change indeed.’
Greville smiled wryly. ‘After my time aboard the Illustrious, I’m as different now f
rom the man who left these shores as the English Channel is from the Bay of Marrakesh.’
‘What will you do when you are released?’ Jo asked.
‘I hope you might help with that, Sir Edward. With the prize money coming to me and a bit I inherited, I’d like to purchase a place of my own. Lord Englemere told me that, as you own a number of properties, you might be persuaded to sell me Blenhem Hill.’
Sir Edward considered him for a long moment. ‘So you can make restitution to the tenants personally. I’ve enjoyed my time at Blenhem—how could I not, when it brought me my dear wife?’ he said, giving Joanna’s hand another squeeze. ‘But I do have extensive properties elsewhere I need to attend.’
‘Oh, my dear, having Greville take over the Blenhem would be the most marvellous solution!’ Joanna inserted. ‘You were saying just today that you should leave soon to tour your other holdings, and must find someone to take over here.’
‘So I was. Let me think on it, Mr Anders. I’m sure we can come to an agreement.’
‘You will stay a few days, Greville? For a visit, and so you and Ned can work out the details about Blenhem Hill?’
He’d intended to resume his journey the very next morning, but in the face of his sister’s appeal, that resolve faltered. ‘Two days, then,’ he replied.
‘You’re looking tired, sweetheart,’ Greaves said to his wife. ‘Why don’t you have Myles show your brother to his room, and then rest before dinner?’
Joanne tried, and failed, to stifle a yawn. ‘This business of making heirs is very fatiguing,’ she admitted. ‘Very well, I’ll go rest. Until dinner, Greville.’
Sir Edward returned to work while the butler showed Greville up to his chamber. Gazing out the window at the ploughed fields in the distance, Greville felt a glow of pride and anticipation.
It felt right, somehow, to begin anew here. He would work hard, learn well and some day soon, be able to look tenants in the eye, knowing he had made their tasks easier. He’d become a landlord like Jo’s husband Ned and Amanda’s father Lord Bronning, respected and admired for his expertise and his enlightened care of the land.
Maybe he’d even look for that borough to represent and serve in the Commons.
Might he some day sit down at Amanda’s table as a leader of government, working to better the nation?
If enough years passed—many, many years—perhaps he might some day gaze upon her lovely face again without the agonising sense of loss now scouring his heart.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The same afternoon Greville arrived at Blenhem Hill, Amanda found herself walking in the mild spring sunshine with Lord Trowbridge, who had prevailed upon her sponsor to allow him to escort her around her ladyship’s garden. Fearing she knew what he intended and desperate to avoid being forced to a decision, she’d tried to demur, only to have Lady Parnell, with a broad wink at Trowbridge, practically push her from the room.
Strolling on Trowbridge’s arm down well-tended gravel paths between bare-branched shrubs and bulbs that scattered a fairy dust of whites, yellows and pinks over the beds, Amanda tried to maintain a constant flow of amusing conversation. But by the time they’d made one full circuit, she’d run out of polite chat. Her heart thumping harder than a maid beating dust from a carpet, she fell silent, a rising panic tightening her chest and preventing her from managing another syllable.
Trowbridge reached for her hand. ‘I’m as nervous as you look,’ he confessed. ‘I’ve never before asked a lady to walk in the garden with me.’
She felt a little faint. ‘So you didn’t bring me here to discuss your concerns over the Royal Marriages?’
He laughed. ‘Not royal ones,’ he replied, sending another stab of anxiety through her.
Before she could try to forestall him with another light remark, he squeezed her hand. ‘You can’t tell me you’re surprised. My attentions have been too marked. Indeed, I understand wagers are being made about our wedding date in the betting books at White’s as we speak.’
Amanda felt as if the air were being squeezed out of her chest. ‘Don’t you think we should get to know each other better, before we have the talk I think you want to have?’
‘What else is there to know? What I’ve observed of you and I hope what you’ve observed of me shows we both possess good character and high ideals. You have a strong interest in the affairs of our nation—by no means a common concern for a young lady! To that useful trait, you add every attribute a man could wish for in a wife: beauty, intelligence, skill with people. In turn, I can offer you not just wealth and ease, but an opportunity to play an important part in the political life. You’ll command my respect, tenderness and devotion. I can’t think of another lady in London whom I’d be prouder to have on my arm as I welcome guests to my home.’
Respect…tenderness…devotion. Pride, to have her on his arm. She thought of Hillyard’s comment about trophies…and about the man she wanted coming to her at night.
‘What of…warmer feelings?’ she asked, her palms beginning to sweat.
He gave her a look that did not disguise his desire. ‘I may not advertise it by profligate living, but I have passion enough, I assure you. Or are you referring to what is commonly called “falling in love”?’
He shook his head. ‘I’m afraid I discount the emotion. Since those friends who claim to have succumbed to it generally regret the experience, it seems to me a madness best avoided. No, a successful marriage, I believe, should be founded on respect, mutual interests, and a pure and lasting affection.’
A madness best avoided. Reflecting upon the chaos into which her feelings for Greville Anders so often tossed her, perhaps he was right.
‘True, we’ve not known each other long, so perhaps you have reason for believing you don’t yet know me well enough,’ he continued. ‘I admit to being impatient. A lady as lovely and unique as you, my dear, attracts a great deal of notice, and I couldn’t bear to have the prize I value so highly claimed by someone else.’
Is that all she was to him…a prize to be claimed, another valuable possession to embellish his home?
When she remained silent, unable to dredge out the proper words about being honoured and gratified, he continued, a bit anxiously, ‘I hope you don’t think badly of me for recognising what I want and pursuing it boldly. If you feel I’m being too precipitous, I’m willing to wait. I’ll not press you for an answer immediately. Talk with your father first, if you want, and when you’re ready, I’ll call on him.’
He gave her a wry smile. ‘Perhaps you’re offended that I’m addressing you without first obtaining his permission. Understandably, I think, I didn’t wish to make the journey to Ashton Grove unless I was certain of obtaining your consent. I’ll not entreat you further, but simply hope we will soon come to an understanding that will make me the happiest man in England.’
Taking her numb hands, he kissed them, then looked ardently into her eyes.
Did he want to claim her lips? While she stood irresolute, torn between curiosity and a desire to flee, he bent and kissed her.
A soft, gentle brush of the mouth, made with no demands. A shiver went through her, whether of unease or satisfaction she couldn’t tell.
Then his hands clutched her shoulders and he kissed her again, his tongue tasting her lips briefly before releasing her. ‘I’ll show you much more passion than that, once you give me the right,’ he said, his voice rough. ‘Now I’d better get you back before Lady Parnell sends Kindle after us.’
He offered her his arm, resuming his discussion of the impediments the tangled finances of Royal Dukes were creating in the matter of their marriages. Her thoughts scattered, she barely heard him.
Somehow she made it through the rest of the afternoon, chatting with other guests until calling hours concluded. The moment she could, ignoring Lady Parnell’s enquiring look, she fled to her room.
Too restless to sit, she stood at the window, gazing out at London streets and rooftops, feeling a pang of longing for
the green fields and windswept Devon coastline whose intensity would have astonished her only a few months previous.
What was she to do, now that she’d received the declaration she’d dreaded?
Accept him, and the landscape outside her window would be her new home. She would achieve everything Mama and Grandmama had dreamed of for her: guarantee herself a life of affluence and ease, obtain an important position in society and become an active participant in helping her husband shape their nation.
He would be a husband who esteemed and admired her, who wanted her standing beside him, wanted to show her off as one more beautiful ornament in his home. One who, though he desired her, didn’t believe in nor wish to experience the mad, illogical abandon of the senses that came with falling in love.
Except, she was very much afraid she had already experienced it.
She touched her lips. Trowbridge’s kiss had been…pleasant. It didn’t sear and burn and make her want to wrap herself around him, pull his hands to her breasts and have him bury himself deep within her.
In fact, when he’d kissed her again, she’d almost backed away, as if what he sought belonged to another.
Was she an idiot? She wasn’t even sure if the man who’d created such havoc in her heart and mind spared her a thought. He’d saved only a few moments out of his visit to London to spend with her, and then spoke almost nothing of himself, as if he didn’t think she needed to know much about his future.
Had their interlude at Ashton Grove been for him merely a pleasant flirtation to pass the time, and the episode in the Neville Tour just a virile man happy to oblige a maiden who’d shown herself more wanton than she should be?
Even if it had meant more, he’d made it quite plain he had no interest in London or the affairs of state. She smiled, recalling how he’d tweaked Trowbridge as his father’s ‘assistant’ when he defended the valour of the common sailor.
Society's Most Disreputable Gentleman Page 24