by Gayle Callen
Louisa held her breath. Did he even like to be reminded of horses?
Lord Wade distracted them all with his charming grin. “Paul, I know you’re dying to show him off. Go show the ladies. I’ll wait here for you.”
“Simon,” his friend began.
Lord Wade gave a wry smile. “I know Georgie has longed to see him. Go, Georgie, I’ll be fine.”
Louisa watched Miss Wade smile hesitantly as she glanced at Mr. Reyburn. Perhaps they would need a chaperone, Louisa thought. But they had plenty of stable hands and grooms, leaving Louisa the chance to talk with Lord Wade.
“I haven’t finished my cake,” Louisa said. “You two go on.”
Miss Wade didn’t need to be encouraged. She dashed down the stairs, not bothering to wait for Mr. Reyburn, who only laughed and shook his head as he followed her.
“I think your sister likes him,” Louisa said.
Lord Wade turned his head toward her. “Paul? They’re just friends. He helped me keep an eye on her when we were children.”
“Things change,” she said.
“And once again, you’re too interested in my sister, Miss Shelby.”
She rested her chin on her fist and studied his reaction. He wasn’t angry, just…concerned.
“I can’t ignore her offer of friendship, my lord,” she answered truthfully. “We are the only two young women in this household.”
“But you’re older than she is.”
Louisa straightened in surprise. “She is eighteen, is she not?”
He nodded.
“There are only six years between us.”
“But you’ve had many more experiences.”
He seemed to deliberately stop himself from saying more.
“But isn’t that the point, my lord?” she asked in confusion. “I have experience at managing the complexities of Society. Why should I not advise her?”
“Because she is not ready to try again, Miss Shelby.”
This stubborn side to him was something she wouldn’t have imagined when she’d first come to know him in London last year. But maybe no one had ever crossed him.
And she didn’t want to push him too far, at least about his sister. But there were other things in his life he needed to confront. She took a deep breath and risked a personal question. “Does your response to Mr. Reyburn’s horse mean you’re not interested in attempting to ride again?”
“Not interested in your interference, Miss Shelby.”
The mask he wore for his family was slipping, she realized, shocked and curious.
Lord Wade turned that intimidating focus back on her. “And how would I ride? Would you be the one to lead my horse around by the reins like a good companion should?”
“You’re not an elderly woman, my lord,” she said evenly. “You don’t need me as a companion. Anyone could assist you in learning to ride again. Your family wants to help.”
“You’re my grandmother’s companion,” he continued, “and I suggest you keep to that. What I would require in a female companion is not what you’re offering.”
She blinked at him, startled by his vulgarity—but then intrigued by it. Had he been thinking about her, as she’d been thinking about him? She should encourage it—for his recovery, of course. Not for the fact that her palms had gone damp and her mouth dry.
“I thought I was offering friendship,” she said.
“Or pity.”
“I don’t pity you, my lord. I pity those children in the factory that you spoke of.”
He slowly smiled. “You have me there, Miss Shelby.”
“Riding again is your choice, of course. I am simply glad that you decided you could sit with me.”
“You are alone with me on a terrace. Is that permitted?”
“Your grandmother told me to come. And it’s the middle of the afternoon.”
“It’s always night to me,” he answered softly.
She blushed, though he couldn’t see it, and found herself watching his mouth. “Right now there are several elderly ladies who are probably peering through windows at us as we speak.”
“I don’t think they’re worried about your virtue,” he said dryly. “Not anymore.”
She stiffened in outrage. Did he know what had befallen her at Lady Ralston’s? “I beg your pardon?”
Chapter 6
Simon was surprised by the alarm he heard in her voice. Did she know about the rumors circling London about her? Or did she mean something else?
“I’m referring to the fact that I’m no longer looking to marry,” he explained. “My grandmother’s friends would surely think you’re safe with me.”
“Oh.” She sounded relieved and embarrassed.
He was intrigued. “What did you think I meant?”
“The same thing, of course.”
She didn’t lie very convincingly.
“One of your grandmother’s friends said that you were off the marriage mart,” she continued. “Lady Wade assured her it wasn’t so. So who was wrong?”
But he wasn’t going to let her unusual reaction go. “I can tell that you’re not saying what you were thinking a moment ago.”
“So you’ve gained new abilities now that you’re blind?”
It was rare that anyone mentioned his infirmity, and he found himself grudgingly respecting her for it. “You thought those ladies wouldn’t be concerned with your virtue. Why?”
He heard her inhale swiftly. “You wouldn’t be speaking like this were I not a servant in your home.”
“You’re not a servant, and I’m only trying to help.”
“Not a servant? Do you know what a companion is, my lord?”
“I thought I did,” he said with hesitation.
“What you have here at Enfield Manor is not reality. Your grandmother is a wonderful woman, and treats me with the utmost respect. Even you, in your strange way, have treated me with respect.”
“Even me? I’m not sure I’d go that far,” he said, remembering how he’d stalked about her in the night, breathing in her scent, wanting more than a touch.
“But at my last place of employment, when I truly had no recourse for monetary support but that position…” Her voice faded away.
He found himself leaning toward her, wanting to know her secrets, wanting to understand the mystery of a woman like Louisa Shelby.
“My employer’s male relatives thought they could abuse my place in their household.”
She spoke calmly, distantly, as if it no longer touched her.
Before he could find a question that wouldn’t further her pain, she hurried on. “Oh, I resigned before more than ugly invitations were bandied about. But I thought you meant that rumors had spread that I was unaware of.”
He didn’t know how to answer that. She seemed to be only referring to her work as a companion, not her time in London, when she was sought after—and whispered about—by so many men. It wasn’t his place to hurt her by telling those truths.
“Is there someone I should call out?” he said lightly. “I can find dueling pistols. You only have to tell me where to aim.”
She laughed.
He realized he’d eased the tension between them with humor, which used to come so naturally to him. Something about her made him relive the old days, and it wasn’t such a painful thing.
The next morning, Simon found his grandmother alone in her morning room.
“Am I interrupting, Grandmama?” he asked.
“I’m only writing a letter. It can wait, I assure you. Do come sit down.”
Manvil led him to a chair, and when Simon was seated, he dismissed his servant to the corridor, his usual place. He paid Manvil well to be so available to him, but Simon still felt uneasy with it. Manvil had to be his constant companion.
And that made him think of Louisa Shelby, his grandmother’s companion.
“Grandmama, I want to talk about Miss Shelby.”
She laughed. “I keep trying to convince you and your sister that
I’m not as young as I used to be.”
“And we’re not convinced.”
She didn’t respond.
“That’s not correct,” he continued. “Georgie seems convinced. But I’m the one who’s constantly running into Miss Shelby, who’s being forced to listen to her sing, to walk the garden with her as a group of ‘young people.’ Wasn’t that how you put it yesterday?”
“I had plenty of companionship with my friends visiting. She doesn’t need to be with me every moment of the day.”
“You’re deliberately putting her in my way, Grandmama. I’m not going to marry—ever.”
“I am not putting her in your way, Simon,” she said firmly. “My actions are not always about you.”
She ignored his talk of never marrying, and he let her get away with it for now. If he was supposed to feel put in his place, she’d failed. He knew she was not yet ready to back down from this new plan of hers—matchmaking. She didn’t need a companion; she was finding him a bride. He was angry and uncomfortable, but consoled himself with the knowledge that at least Miss Shelby did not suspect she was being used as a pawn to draw the poor blind man out of his shell.
Unless the rumors about her had made it so difficult to find a husband that she’d lowered herself to consider him. Was trying to get close to Georgie Miss Shelby’s way of getting close to him?
His anger hardened into fury, and he called for Manvil.
“Simon, you only just arrived,” his grandmother said.
“I feel the need to be outdoors for awhile.”
“I understand that the house can make you feel trapped,” she said. “Go on and enjoy yourself.”
Her voice sounded happier, as if it was a miracle that he was getting about on his own. Instead he needed a servant to get him through the garden.
“To the lake,” he told his valet when they were in the corridor.
What was wrong with him? he wondered as he walked with Manvil. He had thought himself content with his life, resigned to what fate had given him, confident that he would get by.
And then Miss Shelby arrived, turning up at the wrong times, making him think about her as a woman.
He knew how to get rid of that sort of frustration.
While Lady Wade wrote letters, Louisa wandered to the drawing room to set up easel and watercolors for the afternoon’s entertainment. She was trying to forget the strange conversation she’d had with Lord Wade, where she’d told him about her intimate problems with men at Lady Ralston’s. What woman would talk of such a thing—to a man?
But he’d been a good listener. Perhaps it had eased some of the strain of their relationship. Surely he thought he could begin to trust her, now that she’d revealed something so personal to him.
“Miss Shelby?”
Louisa turned away from the drawing room windows, where she hadn’t even realized she’d been standing. Miss Wade had entered the room.
“Since my grandmother and Simon need neither of us,” Miss Wade said, “would you like to walk the garden with me?”
Louisa smiled warmly. “I would enjoy that very much.”
It was a warm day, almost unseasonably so. They needed only bonnets to protect their faces from the sun. To Louisa’s surprise, this time Miss Wade linked their arms together.
“Your grandmother has so many friends,” Louisa began.
Miss Wade smiled, her hand on her bonnet as she lifted her face to the sun. “Surely you’re not still wondering why she hired you.”
“No, I accept her need to be prepared as she ages. But if you don’t mind my prying, I don’t see you going off to meet with friends like she does.”
Her smile faded and she shrugged. “So many are going into town soon for the Season. They’re busy planning wardrobes. It seems to take so much time.”
“Is there a dressmaker nearby, where perhaps you’ve had your things made?”
Miss Wade frowned. “I haven’t had anything new since before my coming out. And my mother controlled that.”
Louisa sensed no bitterness, but almost…indifference. Surely Miss Wade knew she did not look like the other girls. Did she think she couldn’t? Louisa was trying to frame a subtle suggestion about a new wardrobe, when Miss Wade suddenly brightened.
“Ah, there’s Simon,” she said. “He had cancelled his meetings this morning.”
Louisa looked around, but only saw several gardeners on their hands and knees among the flowers. “I don’t see him.”
“Not here,” Miss Wade said, giggling. “On the lake!”
The garden sloped down subtly, to what was really an enormous pond rather than a lake. Louisa frowned and shielded her eyes, because the bonnet wasn’t helping.
“Is there a path circling the lake that I don’t see?”
“Well, yes, there is one, but that’s not where Simon is. He’s in the boat on the lake.”
The small wooden boat contained only two men, one dark haired, and one light. And the light-haired man was rowing.
Lord Wade moved at an astonishing pace, all on his own strength. She could see him in his shirtsleeves, using both oars, moving rhythmically without faltering. He seemed powerful, unstoppable, and it excited her.
“Is that his valet with him?” Louisa asked, hoping her voice sounded calm and indifferent. So this was what he’d been doing before he’d come to their archery field.
Miss Wade glanced at her. “Yes. Manvil navigates for him.”
“Why did he take up rowing?”
“Because he discovered that he could. I think he felt…lost when he couldn’t ride anymore.” She lowered her voice. “I felt terrible yesterday after I left to see Mr. Reyburn’s horse. That wasn’t fair to Simon.”
“He wants you to enjoy your life. Just because he can’t ride doesn’t mean you shouldn’t.” Louisa frowned as she watched Lord Wade slow the boat as he reached the far side, turn it around, and then begin rowing again at a quick pace.
“Why does he row so fast?” she asked.
Miss Wade shrugged. “I think he likes being tired afterward. He says he thinks and works out his frustrations.”
He must have had a lot of frustrations, because although they spent a half-hour walking all the paths in the garden, Lord Wade continued to row.
As they were heading back to the manor, Miss Wade said, “So you really think Simon wants me to enjoy my life?”
Louisa glanced at her in bemusement. “Of course.”
“Grandmama, too?”
“Surely you know that your family loves you.”
“I know. And I’ve done nothing but embarrass them,” she said softly.
“You mustn’t think that, Miss Wade.”
“I just wish…oh, I don’t know what I wish.”
Louisa studied the girl thoughtfully.
“Miss Shelby is watching, my lord,” Manvil said suddenly.
Simon wiped his wet face on his arm, and tried to ignore his ridiculous surge of pleased satisfaction. “And you thought I’d want to know that?”
“I did. You’re spending time with her, aren’t you?”
Simon frowned and continued to row, picking up the pace until his muscles ached with the strain. He spoke between breaths. “She’s my grandmother’s companion. We’re both living in the same house. I can’t help but spend time with her.”
“I’m living in the same house too, but I don’t see her as much as you do. Not that you see her,” Manvil added casually.
Simon splashed him.
But he had to admit that a buried part of him was glad Miss Shelby knew he rowed.
Was he so vain that he liked knowing that she was watching him? He didn’t row to put himself on display. It was simply freedom to him. It was his power moving the boat, his ability making something happen. His life was sadly lacking in that.
Lately, it was only full of frustration. Besides the puzzle of Miss Shelby, he was in the middle of an all-out war between two of his grandmother’s tenants. They were arguing over who had the r
ights to a tiny orchard that straddled their property line.
Just listening to them, Simon could not understand why they weren’t solving the problem on their own. In times past, he would have understood from their faces, from the way their eyes looked confidently at a man, or scurried away in guilt. Later when he questioned Georgie, she simply thought they were foolish, but you couldn’t tell a man that. Simon felt…blind to a solution that would satisfy everyone.
So he rowed. And when he was exhausted, he slept better. He was able to fight off the need to roam the halls at night in the dark.
He didn’t need to keep running into Miss Shelby, although he certainly wanted to. He’d only touched her stomach through clothing, and he wanted more. He imagined her hair down, reclining on his big lonely bed. He’d cover her and—
And he rowed harder.
Lord Wade did not join them that night in the drawing room, and in the morning he immediately disappeared into his study. Louisa wondered why he was avoiding his family, but couldn’t very well ask him.
That afternoon, Louisa and Lady Wade were reading their novels silently in the drawing room when Miss Wade entered and sank down with a sigh next to Louisa on the sofa.
Lady Wade closed her book and smiled at her. “Did you and Simon have a productive morning, Georgie my child?”
“We did, Grandmama.”
“Perhaps you can teach Manvil to assist Simon with his business dealings when we leave for the London Season.”
Louisa let her book sag to her lap. There was a noticeable silence.
For a moment, Miss Wade looked hesitant, even hopeful. Then she folded her arms across her chest. “I’m not sure I should go, Grandmama. Simon needs me. I would feel so much better helping him, than standing alone in a corner in successive ballrooms.”
Louisa felt even more determined as she listened to the buried pain in Miss Wade’s voice. Would Lady Wade accept an offer of help, or like Simon, did she think Miss Wade would eventually solve her own problems?
“Remaining here might seem easier for you,” Lady Wade said gently, “but how will Simon feel knowing you gave up your dreams for him?”
“I don’t know if I have dreams anymore,” she whispered.