Lord Exmouth's Intentions

by Anne Ashley

  'Are you certain she's all right, Mama?' Daniel enquired, the instant Robina had scurried away. 'She seems a little tense to me.'

  'If that is so, then it is quite evident that where Miss Perceval is concerned you are a deal more observant than I am, my son,' she responded, beaming with satisfaction. 'She was fine earlier. As she mentioned, she went out for a walk this morning, and was brought safely home by dear Arabella. Nothing untoward has happened this day, I assure you.'

  But Daniel was not at all convinced. He had made too close a study of her in recent weeks not to be certain that something had occurred to disturb the calm waters of her mind, something which, unless he much mistook the matter, she was determined to keep to herself.

  Leaving his mother happily conversing with several acquaintances, he wandered into the room set out for cards, selecting a seat near the door from where he was able to view proceedings taking place back in the drawing-room.

  Robina, being an extremely pretty girl, had never been short of invitations to step out on to the floor, and this evening proved no exception. Each time Daniel raised his eyes from the cards in his hand it was to discover her lightly moving about the room, executing the steps of the various dances with effortless grace. On the surface at least she appeared to be enjoying herself hugely, but he was not fooled.

  Her smiles, he had noticed, lacked that certain spontaneous warmth, and there was just a hint of tension about the set of those lovely, gently sloping white shoulders.

  Declining the invitation to play yet another hand, he eventually wandered back into the drawing-room in time to see her latest partner returning her to the protection of the Dowager's side. 'I hope you will do me the honour of saving me the supper dance?' he asked, coming upon her completely unobserved and making her start. 'And, of course, permit me to escort you in to supper afterwards.'

  Robina made not the least attempt to conceal either her delight or surprise. Daniel, although an excellent dancer for a man of his size, and surprisingly light on his feet, took a turn on the floor only rarely, declaring that, having almost attained the ripe old age of six-and-thirty, he considered it far more dignified to watch the spectacle rather than take any part in it himself.

  That he had chosen to escort her in to supper in preference to his cousin brought immense satisfaction, and she only hoped the invitation was not by way of recompense for failing to escort her to the party, but because he genuinely desired her company.

  The smile she bestowed upon him while accepting the invitation came effortlessly to her lips, but it quite failed to persuade him to remain by her side, and he wandered away directly afterwards to join a group of friends congregating by the door.

  On several occasions, as the evening progressed, Robina just happened to catch him staring in her direction, but he made no attempt to approach her again. Nor did he appear at her side to claim her hand shortly before the supper dance was due to begin.

  'Do you happen to know where Daniel is hiding himself, ma'am?' she asked the Dowager, after scanning the room in a vain attempt to catch a glimpse of his tall, athletic figure.

  'No, dear. I'm afraid I don't, unless he's still outside with Arabella. I thought I noticed them wandering out to the terrace a little earlier.'

  Robina hesitated, but only for a moment. After all, it could do no harm to go in search of him, she told herself, making her way across to the tall French windows, which their thoughtful hostess had ordered to be left wide open to allow much needed fresh air into the room.

  She was surprised to discover the terrace quite deserted, and turned, about to go back inside and search elsewhere, when a trill of feminine laughter floated up from the garden on the sweetly perfumed night air.

  Her soft slippers made not a sound as she walked across the terrace towards the four stone steps leading down to a sizeable lawn. The two figures, silhouetted in the moonlight and standing close together, a mere few yards away, certainly appeared to remain oblivious to her presence. Despite the semi-darkness she had little difficulty in identifying them both, even before that easily recognisable female voice, heartbreakingly clear and carrying, announced, 'Oh, Daniel! I cannot tell you how happy that makes me! To think after all these years you have at last come to your senses... You have made the right choice this time, I think.'

  Robina felt suddenly icy-cold, numb. Had she misheard...? Could she possibly have misunderstood? Then, as she watched Arabella wrapping her arms about that tall, muscular frame, and saw Daniel's willing response to the loving embrace, she could delude herself no longer.

  Never before had Robina experienced so much gratitude towards her mother for insisting on such high standards of behaviour in her offspring than she did in those moments when the numbness began to leave her and her whole body was suddenly racked by the most agonising pain. Those strict lessons, instilled in her from childhood, could not be easily forgotten, and thankfully gave her the strength to suppress the agonised cry which rose in her throat, and to walk silently back into the house, dry-eyed, head held high, her unusual pallor the only indication that all was not well with her.

  Nevertheless the distinct lack of colour didn't escape Lady Exmouth's notice, when at last she returned to her side. 'My dear, are you sure you feel quite the thing? You look quite dreadfully pale.'

  'No, I do not feel very well, ma'am,' Robina answered, wondering how she could possibly manage to sound so natural when her throat felt as though it were being slowly squeezed by merciless fingers of steel. 'I have developed the most atrocious headache, and think it would be best if I leave at once.'

  Lady Exmouth required no further prompting. But as Robina took her seat beside her in the carriage a few minutes later, thankfully escaping without having to face Daniel again, she was brutally aware that she would never be able to escape from the depths of her own feelings.

  Chapter Nine

  'Grateful though I've been for your generous hospitality, and unrivalled masculine company, I think the time has now come for me to return to my own abode,' Daniel suddenly announced to his friend, as they paused in their stroll about the town to study half a dozen or so small fishing boats heading out to sea.

  The Honourable Mr Montague Merrell didn't attempt to dissuade him. 'I expected you to go several days ago. It's been quite apparent to me for some considerable time that you're head-over-heels in love with the chit. Miss Perceval's a dashed lovely girl. I really cannot understand why you've delayed this long.'

  'You above anyone else should know why caution has become a byword with me, Monty. I've fallen in love before, remember?'

  Easily detecting the slightly bitter note in the pleasantly mellow voice, Mr Merrell cast his companion a sympathetic look as they moved on to continue their exploratory stroll about the town. 'You were very young, Daniel,' he reminded him. 'I know at the time I numbered amongst the few who were against your marrying, but that was simply because I considered it would have been wise to wait a year or two. Looking back, I cannot recall a single gentleman of my acquaintance who wasn't instantly bewitched by Clarissa. And believe me I was no exception.'

  'Maybe not... But at least you, my dear friend, had the sense to know the difference between infatuation and love, whereas I...'

  Daniel didn't attempt to finish what he was saying. There was absolutely no need for him to do so, for his companion was the only person in whom Daniel had ever confided; the only one to have been furnished with all the unsavoury facts concerning the late Lady Exmouth's unexpected demise.

  Automatically keeping pace with his friend, as they turned down one of Brighton's many side streets to explore a part of the town where he at least had never ventured before, Daniel cast his mind back to one particular evening, shortly after Clarissa's funeral, when he had sat in the library at Courtney Place and had felt the need to confide in his friend Montague. He had openly confessed for the first time ever that his marriage had not been an unrivalled success, before he had gone on to relate all the details of Clarissa's tragic deat
h. Daniel clearly recalled that his friend had looked genuinely shocked. Montague might have experienced reservations about his friend's marrying in the first place, but he, like everyone else, had believed the Exmouths' union had been a happy and successful one.

  He cast his pensive companion a fleeting glance as they turned into yet another unfamiliar side street. 'Come on, Monty. Why don't you say, "I told you so". It's what's been passing through your mind, after all.'

  'It most certain has not!' Merrell assured him, before a rueful smile tugged at one corner of his full lips. 'In point of fact, I was just thinking how very adept you've become over the years at hiding your feelings. I doubt there are half a dozen people residing in Brighton at the moment who might suspect that your feelings towards Miss Robina Perceval go rather deeper than that of mere friendship.'

  'Yes, I have been most successful in my endeavours,' Daniel agreed, experiencing no small degree of satisfaction.

  Montague regarded him in silence for a moment, and then asked, 'But surely you do not still harbour any doubts? Miss Robina Perceval is a darling girl, utterly delightful! I told you long before we left the capital that I considered that she would make you the ideal mate.'

  'And you certainly ensured that you were given ample opportunity to form that opinion, as I remember,' Daniel returned, clearly recalling those occasions during the Season in London when he had chanced upon his friend seated in some secluded corner, conversing quietly with Robina. 'I might easily have been roused to a fit of jealous rage if I hadn't been quite certain that a confirmed old bachelor like yourself posed no threat.'

  'And neither, from what I have witnessed during recent weeks, does anybody else,' Montague assured him, slanting a mocking glance. 'So why have you deliberately refrained from making your intentions perfectly plain?'

  'Because, my dear inquisitive friend, I considered the time was not right, and that it certainly could do no harm to delay a few more weeks. Not for my benefit,' he went on to disclose. 'I had made my mind up to marry Robin long before we left the capital.'

  That slightly rueful smile tugged at his lips once again. 'When, towards the end of last year, I first began to consider the suggestion put forward by several members of my family and many of my friends, including your good self, that I should marry again, I was thinking only of my daughters, not of myself. I finally decided that if I could find a female of good birth and gentle manners who would make a kind stepmother, and who would run my home efficiently, I would then seriously contemplate a second marriage. Needless to say, love never entered into my thinking... Then I came to London and met the Vicar of Abbot Quincey's daughter.'

  'And instantly everything changed,' Montague suggested, but Daniel, truthful to the last, shook his head.

  'No, not immediately. Not for several weeks, as it happens,' Daniel surprisingly confessed. 'Oh, I liked her very well from the start. She was precisely what I was looking for—pleasing on the eye, unspoiled and sweet-natured. Furthermore, she had three younger sisters, and so was quite accustomed to caring for young girls. I became determined to get to know her better, and in doing so discovered, much to my utter astonishment, that the unimaginable had happened and that I had grown inordinately fond...' Again the rueful smile flickered. 'No, let us be totally honest—I was astounded to discover that against all the odds I had fallen in love. And not just with a lovely face this time. None the less, I was very well aware that, although my mother was very much in favour of the match, and was doing everything within her power to promote it, as was Robina's own mama, Robina herself...'

  'Oh, come man! The girl simply adores you,' Montague assured him in a voice that clearly revealed that he at least was in no doubt. 'That lovely young face of hers positively lights up whenever you're nearby.'

  Daniel's expression softened, and a warm glow sprang into his dark eyes. 'Recently I have begun to think that perhaps she's starting to see me in something more than the light of just a friend.'

  'I'm positive you're right. So what's holding you back, for heaven's sake?'

  'Oh, I don't know.' Removing his beaver hat, Daniel ran impatient fingers through his hair, as he took stock of their surroundings for the first time.

  'Where in the name of heaven are we?' His eyes came to rest on a tavern on the opposite side of the narrow street. 'Let's go in there. Dashed thirsty work all this aimlessly walking about!'

  Montague, wrinkling his long nose in distaste, followed willy-nilly into the tavern. It wasn't quite up to the standard to which he had grown accustomed, but he found the home-brewed ale very palatable, and was content to remain for a short while in order to sample more.

  After seating himself beside Daniel on one of the rough wooden settles, he wasn't slow to return to their former topic. 'So, how much longer do you intend to wait before popping the question?'

  'Inquisitive devil!' Daniel admonished, but without rancour. How could one resent the curiosity of someone who had only one's best interests at heart, someone who had remained touchingly loyal and had been an unfailing support when one had needed it most?

  'As a matter of fact I had made up my mind to propose last night.' His forehead suddenly creased with a slightly troubled frown. 'Unbeknown to me, my mother decided to leave the party early. I spent some time with my cousin Arabella in the garden, and when I returned to the house I was informed by our hostess that Miss Perceval had not been feeling too well and that my mother had taken her home. I called at the house this morning, but Robina was keeping to her room. My mother seems to think that she may have contracted a chill, but I'm not so sure.'

  He shrugged. 'She certainly didn't seem quite herself last night, but I wouldn't have said she was ill.'

  'Probably just one of those mild female complaints,' his friend suggested. 'She'll recover soon enough, I dare say.'

  Daniel cast him a faintly mocking glance. 'And what would a confirmed old bachelor like yourself know about women's troubles, may I ask?'

  'A great deal more than you may think, old fellow,' Montague responded, with a distinctly self-satisfied smirk. 'I may never have been tempted into parson's mousetrap, but I ain't lived the life of a monk. The single state suits me very well, whereas it doesn't suit you, my friend. So do something about it! It ain't like you to be so indecisive.'

  'I do not doubt the depth of my own feelings, Monty,' Daniel assured him after a moment's intense thought, 'but I cannot help wondering whether I am quite the right sort of person to make my little bird happy. Good God, man!' he exclaimed in response to his friend's derisive snort. 'She's nearer to my daughter Hannah's age than mine...Lizzie's, come to that!'

  'Well, and what of it?' Montague responded, not considering the difference in ages in any way significant. 'You're in the prime of life—healthy, strong, a fine figure of a man.' He gazed down a little despondently at his own slightly thickening girth. 'I'm forced to admit that you're in far better shape than I am.'

  'Maybe so, but that doesn't alter the fact that I'm fast approaching middle age. I enjoy a quiet life, and maybe am a little too staid and set in my ways for Robina's taste.'

  His features adopted a certain wistful expression as he stared down into the contents of his tankard. 'In many ways we are very alike, very compatible, both seeming to enjoy the same sorts of things. But that doesn't alter the fact that she is still a deal younger than I am, with a young heart that craves a little excitement from time to time.

  'Believe me, it is so,' he reiterated when his friend looked faintly sceptical. 'To all outward appearances she seems very demure, every inch the well brought up young lady, but hidden beneath the surface lurk quite amazing qualities. She's an intrepid little thing, which she proved when she saved my daughter from drowning, for which I shall be eternally in her debt. She's always keen to attempt new things, too, which sets her quite apart from most other young females of her class who are quite content to remain indoors, plying their needles.'

  He paused for a moment, recalling clearly a certain conversation
he had had with Robina on the night they had dined at the Pavilion. 'Although her upbringing was on the whole a happy one, her life at the vicarage lacked adventure, and there is a certain part of her that yearns to meet the kind of man who could rectify this deficiency in her life before she settles down to a quiet married life.'

  'Well, why don't you then?' Monty suggested.

  'And how the deuce do you propose I do that?'

  Daniel returned, a hint of exasperation creeping into his voice, making it carry further than he realised. 'I am not quite the swashbuckling type. Nor a knight in shining armour to ride ventre a terre to a damsel's rescue, even if the situation arose, which is highly improbable.'

  'I'm not suggesting you wait for an opportunity to display your manly prowess, I'm suggesting you create one.'

  'It is my considered opinion,' Daniel responded, casting his friend a faintly impatient glance, 'that that home-brewed ale has gone to your head.'

  'Not a bit of it!' Montague assured him, laughing. 'Nothing could be easier. Simply arrange for dear little Robina to be abducted and then go gallantly dashing to her rescue. Tomorrow will do perfectly,' he went on, warming to the subject. 'She's to be amongst the guests invited to your cousin's alfresco breakfast out at Priory Wood, if my memory serves me correctly. The perfect opportunity for you to carry out the feat of daring.'

  Daniel raised his eyes ceilingwards. 'A more addle-brained suggestion I have yet to hear!' he muttered. 'Even if I thought you were serious, which I know you're not, you don't suppose for a moment I'd lend myself to such a start.'

  'Faint-hearted fellow!'

  'Furthermore,' Daniel continued, ignoring the criticism, 'there is every likelihood that Robina will excuse herself from the outing. And even if she does decide to attend, there's not the remotest possibility that I could arrange her abduction in so short a time, even if I were foolish enough to contemplate doing such a senseless thing.'