“Oh my! But this is terrible. I had no idea things were so bad. Do you have anything to treat them up at the house?”
Was that genuine concern for his health? Brendon looked along the driveway. It had improved much over the last five days but still needed a lot of work.
“I’ll find something when I get in. My housekeeper appears to be skilled in making soothing lotions. She is sure to have something that will relieve them.”
Sophia glanced at his scythe and the amount of grass he had yet to cut.
“But you are going to make them worse if you carry on. Can you not employ someone to help you?”
He followed her gaze as he answered.
“I am attempting to keep the costs down. There is a lot to be done at the house that needs specialist work, so the unskilled gardening is falling to me. I confess that I had no idea how backbreaking it could be.” He pressed his hands to the small of his back as if emphasising the point and stretched out the muscles of his shoulders before peering deeper into the carriage. He squinted his eyes. “That’s not Felicity with you, is it?”
Sophia shook her head quickly.
“No, Felicity cannot chance travel now. She is too close to her time. This is Anna. Felicity wanted me to come but being unsure whether you would have staff at Fallows, she thought I should have my own maid.”
Brendon glanced at the girl hiding in the shadows before he turned to Sophia again.
“And Felicity wanted you to come and visit me.”
“Not a social call, I am afraid. She has given me a letter to pass onto you. I hope you don’t mind but she needs a favour.” Sophia handed a note out of the window.
Brendon put his scythe aside, unfolded the sheet, and scanned the words.
“More letters from family asking favours? I only received one from mother this morning with barely a word of father’s health, but demanding reports of what I am up to. Hmm, and now Felicity wants me to store her furniture?” He asked incredulously. “Has the woman gone mad? I’m up to my eyeballs in renovations and she wants me to keep a cot and Lord knows what other fripperies until she needs them.”
Sophia gulped as she glanced back through the gates.
“I’m afraid you cannot refuse. There’s a cart following me with all her things upon it. But it is only for a few weeks. She is decorating the new nursery and doesn’t want anything to spoil. She is afraid that the orphans will use the cradle for the new litter of kittens that has been born.” Her eyes dropped to her hands. “I’m sorry Brendon, but she insisted I come and I couldn’t refuse. The stress is really affecting her and I don’t want her to be ill.”
Brendon read the note again before sighing as he looked back up at Sophia.
“No, of course not. My sister can be most persuasive when she wants to be. Well, you had best carry on up to the house. If you don’t mind, I would like to finish here before I join you. Shouldn’t take more than ten minutes. I’ll be there as soon as I’ve finished clearing the gate.” He waited until Sophia nodded. “Unfortunately I wasn’t expecting visitors and didn’t ask Alfred to mind the door. He’s getting on and will probably be dozing in the kitchen. You’ll be best to go straight around to the back. James Lawson will take care of the carriage. His mother, Mrs. Lawson, is somewhere near the kitchen. She brews her potions there. You will probably remember them both, but I have no idea what sort of welcome you will get from my housekeeper. She was up to her elbows in some lotion when I last saw her. If she is not immediately available, go through to the drawing room. I’m sure you recall where it is. Molly will bring you refreshments if you ring the bell.” He stepped back and waved the driver on.
Sophia sat back in her seat again feeling rather faint. Her nerves had jangled all the way to Fallows, her last recollection of Brendon riding off into the drizzle, his back as stiff as a poker, not the warmest of memories. She had told herself to put all her bitterness and disappointment aside and be civil. But she had found it hard to even speak.
Brendon had looked as good as she had ever seen him, with his dark hair plastered to his perspiring forehead and his open collared shirt stuck to his chest. The man clearly had no clue he appeared so devilishly attractive after a morning’s hard labour.
She caught Anna looking at her and wafted her fan to cool the blush that had risen to her cheeks.
“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting to see him looking like that. I’ve only ever seen him wearing a jacket or coat before,” she explained to the wide-eyed girl, her voice a little breathless even to her own ears.
Anna gave the smallest nod before her gaze returned to the passing estate grounds.
Sophia worried the lace at the edge of her sleeve.
“He looked well. I never realized how pasty he had become while residing in London. Being outdoors appears to have done him good.” Sophia carried on, hoping for more of a response. The girl had been silent the whole journey.
Anna glanced back at her.
“He looked very hot,” she whispered nervously as she wrung her hands in her lap.
Sophia smiled, delighted to hear some words on the girl’s lips at last. She was attractive, but so painfully shy and withdrawn and it had taken four days for Felicity to persuade her to come on the visit.
“He did, didn’t he?” Sophia laughed. “I don’t think I have ever seen Brendon perspire before. He is normally so debonair, not a hair out of place, but I think this new look suits him.”
Anna wrung her hands some more.
“The grounds seem qui, quite neglected. Is, is he poor?” The young woman stammered her questions.
Sophia considered the question as she glanced out of the window. The grass verges were trimmed, but without much finesse. They would need further maintenance to keep them neat.
“I don’t think so. His family have always seemed rich to me, but I really don’t know their circumstances. All these big houses cost a fortune to run. You know what it has been like at Sommersford, how difficult maintaining it can be. And you heard Lord Spencer say that he is economising. That generally means that you don’t have a lot of money to spare, but who knows. He might have simply discovered that he likes gardening.” And even if he didn’t like it, it certainly suited him, she thought appreciatively. Sophia used her fan once again.
“But his hands looked sore. Surely he doesn’t like that.” Anna began to gain confidence.
Sophia tilted her head.
“No, probably not. But then he is not used to manual labour.” She thought about how he had looked the last time she had seen him.
It had only been a few days previously, but then he had been impeccably dressed, his hands soft and his nails buffed. How different he appeared now with his hair damp with the efforts of hard labour and his clinging shirt revealing... She blinked rapidly as her heartbeat fluttered wildly. She really shouldn’t think about what his sweat soaked shirt revealed. But she couldn’t help it.
With his sleeves rolled up beyond his elbows, his shoulders appeared so broad, his arms corded with muscle. And his stomach had odd looking ripples down the front where he had tucked it firmly in the waistband of his breeches. Could those ripples possibly have been muscles too? She recalled the medical books Brendon had once given her. The indentations and bulges were definitely too central to be ribs, and besides, Brendon had more than enough flesh on him to cover his bones. But those tantalizing ridges were certainly something.
She wafted her fan again as they turned a bend in the drive and Anna let out a small gasp.
“But the house is beautiful! I had expected a ruin.” She leaned towards the window and gazed at the huge edifice.
Sophia smiled, memories of fun filled weeks flooding her mind, as she saw the place too. Older and less grandiose than Sommersford, Fallows’ russet brickwork seemed to spring from the earth surrounding it.
“Yes, it is lovely, if a little over grown. Good heavens! Look how much Lord Spencer has cut. No wonder his hands are blistered.” She gazed at what appeared to be a field
of newly scythed grass. Brendon must have worked like a demon. The carriage slowed as they pulled around the main building to the stables. A young man stopped forking a pile of hay and waited until the carriage halted beside him. Sophia looked at the man quizzically. He looked exceedingly familiar as he opened the carriage door.
“My Lady, Lord Spencer is in the garden somewhere.”
Sophia stopped him.
“Yes, we met with him near the gate. Lady Sophia Barclay and my maid Anna” She introduced herself and her companion. “We have come to visit from Sommersford. My brother is Lord Algernon Barclay. He is married to Lord Spencer’s sister. You must be James Lawson. I think I remember you from long ago.”
The man smiled and took her hand to help her down from the vehicle.
“Indeed my Lady, and I am pleased to see you once again. But you have had a long journey and will need some refreshment. I must not keep you talking. Come into the house and I will find mother to make you some tea.” He held his hand out for Anna to take, but his mouth suddenly fell open as the young woman reached the door. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat and he gulped something back as the young woman stepped down with her eyes glued to the ground. It was a few seconds before he appeared to regain his senses and spoke to Sophia again. “Are you staying, my Lady? It would be a long journey to head back to Sommersford tonight.
Sophia explained her mission.
“If you have a room available, that would be delightful. Our bags are on the carriage, but I’ve brought two of Mary’s lads to help with unloading the cart when it arrives. Lady Barclay requires her brother to store some furniture for a few weeks. The lads might only be twelve and fifteen but they seem capable enough.”
James nodded and his smile turned into a grin.
“And if they are not yet, I can soon lick them into shape.” He turned and led them into the house.
Brendon stared after the carriage as it disappeared along the drive. God’s bones, but she is lovely. Five days away from her hadn’t diminished the tightness that clenched at his stomach when he thought of her. Seeing her just made matters worse. And that maddening scent! Even now he could still smell it wafting on the breeze. It seemed that he had known it all his life. Every time he smelled it, visions of Sophia intruded on his brain. And now she was here in real life.
A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. At least she had smiled at him. He only wished she aimed it at him more often.
He looked around at his day’s work. The drive was open at last and the entrance nearly clear. Another twenty minutes and he would have it done. He swiped his hand across his brow before wielding his scythe once again. His action, now fluid after days of hard work, sent great swathes of grass and weeds toppling under his assault.
Sweat drenched him and dry grass seeds and dust stuck to his exposed skin. He wondered what Sophia had thought of his new look. She hadn’t appeared to be disgusted, though her cheeks had flushed. Indignation at being sent up to the house alone perhaps? Hardly, she was no snob and probably wouldn’t care if he wasn’t there to greet her. Perhaps she had merely been shocked at his inelegant apparel. It wasn’t as if he normally went about in his shirtsleeves, and he had made no effort to present himself differently. He thought about her expression. No, she definitely hadn’t been shocked. Embarrassed? But what had she to be embarrassed about? He was the one reduced to manual labour, not her.
He looked down at himself and his eyes opened wide as he realized that his white shirt had turned almost transparent with his own perspiration. The linen lay plastered to his body, every single inch of his flesh visible to anyone who cared to glance at him.
And she had glanced. More than once.
He grinned as a warm thrill enveloped him. Did she find him attractive? Or was it mere curiosity at the male form. He glanced down at his stomach again and frowned as he recalled the books he had given her the year before. He sucked in his belly and held it for a few moments before puffing out a breath as he let it go again. He was no sculptor’s model, that was for sure. A few less dinners out and a lot less port afterwards might help. Not that he was going to have dinners out around Fallows. Or any port.
A recent foray into the cellars had revealed nothing but a lot of empty bottles. Briggs had either taken all the stocks of alcohol with him, or drunk it prior to departure. Fortunately Andrews had the foresight to pack several bottles of brandy so at least he had something to drink after dinner until his stocks were replenished.
He squinted into the sun as a thought suddenly struck him. He would have to supply Sophia dinner. And a bed for the night! She couldn’t possibly travel back to Sommersford today. Hell! Where in heavens name would she sleep? Apart from the master bedchamber, the only other decent room belonged to his mother and that was opposite his own. Hardly proper, but at least there were no other people at Fallows to gossip about it. And it wasn’t as if he had any other choice. He could hardly put her in the servants’ quarters or suggest she slept in the drawing room.
His heart began to pound at the thought of her sleeping so close to him. A mere two yards of hallway and two oak doors separating them. Lord! If the wagging tongues of the ton knew of the arrangements, he and Sophia would be leg-shackled within a week.
The warm sensation surrounding him grew in heat. Smouldering coals suddenly filled him. Could it really be that easy? Ruin her so that he could marry her. He suddenly imagined Sophia’s radiant smile being replaced by a furious brow. She was hardly likely to feel kindly towards him if he forced her into such a situation when she had spurned him so vociferously the year before. Algernon might have a thing or two to say about it too.
Brendon rubbed his chin, remembering his friend’s rock hard fist, and he shook off the ridiculous idea. He pulled his gloves off again and spread his fingers, easing out the stiffness while wincing at the sting of the new blisters. Hopefully Mrs. Lawson would have made some more of her soothing salve. He slung the scythe over his shoulder and began the long walk back to Fallows.
Chapter Ten
A Narrow Escape
“Well, it is lovely to see you, dear! I only said to the master the other day how I remembered you all playing around the place, with young James trying desperately to keep up with all your games.” Mrs. Lawson poured the tea. “I have a lovely room ready for your Anna, right next to mine. Molly and Alfred have the rooms down the hall from me. James lives over the stables. He prefers being near his horses...I mean, the master’s horses.” She corrected herself. “The two lads can stay there with him. His Lordship is the only other resident, but I am afraid that I have only one other decent room for you. I don’t know if it is quite proper as you will be opposite Master Brendon.” She plumped the cushions on the settee as her cheeks flushed a deep shade of red.
Sophia sipped her tea and refused to let her cheeks colour.
“Oh you needn’t worry for me, Mrs. Lawson. Brendon has always been the soul of propriety. Besides, we are not the best of friends. I am only here on his sister’s insistence. You need not fear anything happening.”
Mrs. Lawson stopped plumping and held a cushion to her chest.
“Not friends? I don’t believe it. You used to trail around after him and he used to look at you with such puppy dog eyes...” She stopped as the door opened.
“I am not having puppies about the place, even if they do have soulful eyes, Mrs. Lawson. If Sophia is trying to persuade you any differently then you can put it out of your head this instant.” He marched up to the tea table and poured himself a cup of tea.
Mrs. Lawson’s mouth fell open as she took in his attire.
“Good heavens! And with ladies present! Never in my life have I seen such appalling manners.” She sniffed her disapproval.
Sophia hid her smile.
“It’s quite all right, Mrs. Lawson. Brendon need make no effort on my behalf. We have known each other far too long to stand on any ceremony. Besides, after cutting his way through that jungle to the gates, I am not surprised
that he hasn’t the energy to walk the stairs to change before having some refreshment.”
Brendon gave his housekeeper a small bow before turning back to his guest.
“I will dress for dinner. Promise. But I confess that I was gasping. The weather has cleared considerably since my arrival and I sought to cut the grass before it began to grow again. It is thirsty work.”
Sophia nodded, a little stiffly.
“Yes, I do not think it has rained at Sommersford since my arrival.” Was she really talking about the weather? She almost groaned at her own ineptitude.
Brendon slumped into his chair. Sophia talking about the weather? Really? He sucked in a breath and went with it.
“Here neither. As you can see the grass has dried a lot.” He brushed at his shirt, but stopped when he heard Mrs. Lawson groan of annoyance as she left the room. He decided to change the subject. “Tell me of my sister. Does she progress well?”
Sophia put down her cup and smiled widely.
“Oh yes! She is blooming. The picture of health, though very tired. She is still trying to help Mary in the orphanage. I have told her that she needs to rest, but you know how good she is at taking instruction.”
Brendon emptied his cup and poured another.
“I imagine that she has completely ignored your advice. I gave up attempting to give it years ago. Complete waste of breath. But this orphanage sounds like hard work, and I don’t understand how that works for them, though I suppose Sommersford is large enough to accommodate several families.”
Sophia took up a biscuit and nibbled the edge for a few moments.
“Algernon and Felicity have taken the east wing and some of the main entertaining rooms. The west wing houses the orphanage and a small school. You should see the difference in all the children. Instead of looking listless, thin, and sallow, they are now the very picture of health and vitality. Most of them help around the house and gardens too. Sommersford has come to life again.”
A Promise of Pure Gardenias Page 11