Edmund was, by this time, on his feet and not waiting to ring for a parlour maid to show the lawyer out, did the job himself.
Eliza heard them conversing in the corridor as they walked towards the front door. She felt her heart slowly returning to its normal pace; they were safe, at least until tomorrow.
She could dream that the money invested somewhere would be enough to pay off the loathsome Lord Wydale. Until she knew different she would push her darker thoughts away.
Edmund returned a grin on his face. ‘That was a close thing, Liza. For a moment I thought all was lost. I’m sure we’ll have the news we want tomorrow, until then I intend to forget all about it, and pretend everything is as it should be. I advise you to do the same. Papa used to say that worrying about a thing won’t change it; it merely makes you feel bad.’
She smiled, she could recall her father saying those exact words. ‘Come, we had best go upstairs and play that game with Sarah as we promised. The rain is getting heavier thank goodness, so we should not get any more visitors this morning.’
* * * *
They played a noisy game in and out of the attics for more than an hour; it was Eliza’s turn to count whilst the other two secreted themselves for the umpteenth time. Relieved to have a few moments to herself, she sank on to a nursery chair watching the comforting flicker of the log fire. She heard hurrying footsteps along the uncarpeted hall outside and the door burst open.
‘There you are, Miss Fox. Mr Reed has come to call on you and is waiting in the drawing-room. Mrs Fox asks that you come down at once and speak to him.’
‘Thank you, Jane. I shall be glad to do so, I’m quite worn out playing hide and go seek with Sarah. It’s my turn to do the finding, so I’m afraid you must do so instead of me or the two of them will languish behind the trunks until luncheon.’
She felt invigorated, and for a moment was able to forget about their problems as she contemplated a pleasant half an hour in the company of Lord Wydale’s most attractive friend. She rushed into her own bedchamber to tidy herself before she descended. She knew exactly where the clothes brushes were placed; she often had need of them. She checked she was free of cobwebs and washed her face to remove the smuts she had acquired whilst crawling around the attics.
Even she could see her eyes were sparkling. It was so long since she had had a gentleman caller, it made her feel like a green girl again. She ran lightly down the stairs, steadying her progress before she entered the drawing-room.
She had expected to find her mother and grandmother entertaining the guest but the room was unexpectedly empty of anyone apart from her vistor. She hesitated, not sure if it was indecorous to enter unchaperoned.
He was waiting standing, apparently relaxed, in the centre of the faded carpet. ‘Good morning, Miss Fox. Permit me to say that you look quite delightful in that gown.’
She dipped in a brief curtsy. ‘Thank you, sir, and I appreciate your compliment. I had thought to find my mother and grandmother with you. I’m not sure it’s correct etiquette for me to entertain you alone.’
‘If you leave the door wide open, and we remain standing, I’m sure no one will accuse you of doing anything indelicate.’
She had the distinct impression he was laughing at her. It was so long since she had been in this situation, she had forgotten the rigid rules that governed the ton. Smiling up at him she responded to his sally. ‘I am sure, sir, my mama cannot object if we move two chairs into the centre of the carpet and sit there. However, I must insist there is a distance of at least a yard between us.’
He bowed solemnly. ‘Of course, Miss Fox. An excellent notion. Remain exactly where you are and I shall fetch the chairs at once.’
She watched him stroll across and select two wooden armchairs with matching upholstered seats. She knew each weighed quite heavy, but he collected them in one hand and placed them exactly as she had specified.
He bowed again, and gestured to chair nearest the warmth of the hearth. ‘Please be seated, Miss Fox; you must remember that a gentleman cannot do so before a lady.’
Trying not to giggle, she folded herself on the chair and, crossing her ankles neatly, she placed her hands on her lap and waited for him to make the next move. He collapsed his long length opposite; crossing his legs curling his arms around the curved chair back.
‘There, I do believe we are ready to exchange commonplaces. Do you have something boring to tell me?’ This was too much. Eliza’s laughter filled the room, breaking the tension.
‘You are impossible, sir. I have never said anything boring in my life. I am a fount of wit and wisdom; you have only to ask my family to discover that I speak nothing but the truth.’
‘In which case, Miss Fox, I wait with bated breath to hear what you have to say to me. I am but only an ordinary man and have only come to pay you flowery compliments and flirt outrageously.’
The words were spoken lightly but she saw a glint in his eyes and all desire to laugh left her. For the second time that morning Eliza felt her heart race and her colour fade. She knew she should say something clever, respond with an equally flippant remark.
‘Mr Fox, please do not make fun of me. I am not used to making trivial conversation and have never flirted with anyone in my life. I know my own limitations. What is it you want from me? I am what you see, and I will not be made fun of.’
Instantly his face changed and his face became serious. ‘My dear, Miss Fox, I assure you that I am not making fun of you. You must not sell yourself short. You’re a lovely young woman and I own that I am surprised, but delighted, to find you still living at home and not happily married with a family of your own.’
She swallowed, finding herself unable to think of a suitable reply she answered flippantly. ‘Selling myself short, sir, is something I could never do, for I am almost two yards tall in my stockinged feet.’
His shout of laughter startled Rose who was hurrying to the drawing-room to enquire if they would like refreshments. The maid appeared in the open door-way, and curtsied.
‘Would you be requiring anything miss?’
Eliza raised an eyebrow at her guest and he shook his head, his lips pressed tight, trying to contain his mirth. ‘No thank you. Mr Reed will not be staying long.’
The girl dipped again and disappeared back down the corridor. Eliza knew the staff would be discussing the unusual circumstance of her entertaining a handsome gentleman caller before said gentleman had even departed the house.
‘Good grief! You’re an original, Miss Fox’ He wiped his brimming eyes, ignoring her protests, he stood up and moved his chair closer. So close, when he sat down again his knees were almost touching hers.
‘My dear, you’re a diamond of the first water. I don’t know how you could have thought
otherwise. I swear I have never seen eyes as beautiful as yours or…..’ He stopped, and she saw the blood flow into his cheeks and realized he had been going to say something decidedly indelicate. Suddenly she felt liberated, able to say exactly what she thought.
* * * *
Even with her fiancé she had never felt this free.
‘Are you, by any chance, referring to my womanly curves, sir? I shall never be mistaken for a country bumpkin when I’m dressed as I should be, that is certain.’
She thought she had gone too far, that she had shocked him by her outspokenness and wished her words unsaid. He ducked his head, hiding his expression and she wondered why he was hunched forward as if in pain.
‘Is something wrong, sir? Are you unwell?’
His voice was unexpectedly gruff. ‘A touch of gripe, nothing to worry about. Why don’t you take a turn around the room and allow me to recover ? I shall join you as soon as I’m ready.’
She rose, trying not to let her knees brush his. A hand shot out taking one of hers in a grip that was almost painful. She felt the roughness of his thumb circling and a strange heat rushed to her nether regions making her feel unsettled. She should withdraw immediately, retre
at to the safety of the large bay window, but something made her wish to move closer, to feel that hand stoke her in other places.
Shocked rigid by her wanton thoughts, she snatched it back and almost ran to hide in the shadow of the semi-circular window. She turned to stare out across the drenched terrace and down the vista which her grandfather had created.
He had turned a modest Tudor mansion into a substantial property and had wished to employ the services of Capability Brown, but could not afford his fees. Instead he had copied faithfully from a picture plate and achieved the same result. The formal parterre and ornamental gardens had been ripped up and replaced with lawns and groups of trees; at the far end of this the sparkle of an ornamental lake and attracted attention. Even in the pouring rain the view was still beautiful.
She heard the chair move. She didn’t know how to react when Mr Reed was close to her saying outrageous things and causing her to behave quite out of character. She sensed him approaching and inhaled his distinctive aroma of lemon and leather. She waited for him to speak, grateful that he stood a good arm’s length away.
‘I have a similar panorama on my estate. Whoever built this must have employed the services of Capability Brown. Am I correct in my assumptions?’
She relaxed, this was a subject she was happy to converse on indefinitely. Her knowledge of the land was as good as any man’s, but for some reason she said something else entirely. ‘Forgive me, sir, I have to ask, why do you associate with an evil man? Lord Wydale is not like you. You’re a good man, I could tell that as soon as I met you.’
She turned to see his face when he answered. She knew she should not have mentioned her fears, knew she had breached the rules of etiquette. She waited for his reply, expecting it to be a severe set down. Her companion continued to stare morosely out across the landscape then, like her, he swung inwards.
‘You’re right to ask me. It’s a long story, perhaps one day I shall tell you the whole, but let it suffice to say that we shared a miserable childhood together and if it wasn’t for his help when I was at school I doubt I should have survived; he showed me how to rise above physical abuse and appear indifferent.’
‘And now? You are your own man; I cannot imagine there’s anyone or anything that could put you out of countenance. You are the more formidable. Why do you still associate yourself with him? One day he will do something so wicked he will take you down with him.’
She had gone too far; his eyes narrowed and she waited for the rebuke she richly deserved. Then to her surprise his lips curved into a smile; it was the first time she had smiled directly at her. Her heart skipped. She felt unaccountably breathless and unable to look away. She recovered her equilibrium sufficiently to speak.
‘Do you feel you have to keep Lord Wydale out of mischief?’
He shook his head. ‘No, frankly it’s too late for that. I do my best to protect others from him. I am here to try and undo the wrong he has done to your brother.’ Seeing the look of horror on Eliza’s face he added hastily. ‘Oh, I assure you, he never cheats. He’s known to be the best card player in Town. No one of sense will accept his challenge. He deliberately set out to charm your brother and tricked him into playing.’
‘I see. I’m hoping I can raise enough money from a trust fund to pay this debt. Have you any idea how much my brother signed away?’
‘I have not seen all his vowels, but I believe that they add up to more than thirty thousand guineas.’
This shocking discovery was too much. For the first time in her life she felt her knees buckle and the last thing she remembered was being clasped in the arms of a man she had only known for twenty-four hours, but who had already become something more than a friend.
* * * *
Fletcher caught Eliza easily, her substantial weight nothing to a man of his size. With a muttered curse he lifted her and turned to scan the room for somewhere suitable to put her down. He strode across the room and placed his unconscious burden on the only piece of furniture that was long enough to accommodate her. He pushed a pillow gently under her head, pausing for a moment at her side, drinking in her features like a man parched in a desert.
Why had he not seen her five years before, when she spent a season in London? He had always disliked his abnormal height and build, feeling clumsy around the dainty dresden misses that he came across in the drawing-rooms of society, and knew that he would have felt as comfortable with her then as he did now.
Lying unconscious on the daybed beside him was a young woman who made him a perfect match. She was statuesque, with eyes the colour of cornflowers and hair like new mown hay. She was intelligent and funny and had no more wish to sit around embroidering useless tapestries than he did.
Glancing hastily over his shoulder to see that they were unobserved, he bent his head and stole a fleeting kiss from the sleeping beauty. Only then did he spring to his feet and yank the bell-strap vigorously. The housekeeper appeared with such alacrity he felt she must have been waiting to receive a summons.
‘Miss Fox has swooned, I do not believe she is unwell, but she needs to be attended to. I shall take my leave, I am de trop. Please tell Miss Fox I shall call tomorrow to see how she does.’
Without waiting for the startled woman to reply he stepped past and took his hat from the hall-stand and walked briskly down the long narrow hall and out into the pouring rain. It was only as he stood, marooned under the portico, that he realized he had left his riding coat behind.
He grinned to himself, he was behaving like a lovesick boy. He turned and, as he did so, the front door swung open and a smiling maid silently handed him the missing garment.
Nodding his thanks, he shrugged it on, buttoning it up around his neck against the weather.
Jamming on his beaver he strode off into the rain to find his mount, which no doubt had been eating his head off in a warm stable somewhere at the rear of the building. He cantered the mile back into the village of Dedham and clattered through the archway at the Sun Inn. Immediately an ostler appeared at his side.
‘A rum old day, sir. I’ll take your horse, shall I? You’ll be wanting to get inside and dry off.’
Fletcher dismounted and tossing the toothless old man a coin ran inside the ancient building. In the smoky beamed hall he unbuttoned his coat and shook it vigorously before tossing it over his arm. The landlady appeared from the snug.
‘Ah! Mr Fox, sir. His lordship was enquiring after you. He’s in his parlour breaking his fast and I believe he wishes to speak to you on a matter of some urgency.’
Fletcher looked down at the dripping coat over his arm and the landlady bustled forward. ‘Here, sir, let me take that, I’ll get it dried for you in no time. I’ll put the coat back in your chamber as soon as it’s fit to be worn.’ She nodded in the direction of the window. ‘But I doubt if you’re going outside again this morning, not in this weather.’
Ignoring her chatter he smiled his thanks and headed for the stairs. He and Wydale had been given the best rooms in the place; he had a bedchamber and parlour at the rear of the building, overlooking the stable yard and Wydale had a matching pair overlooking the busy main street.
Outside Lord Wydale’s room he paused , a strange feeling of reluctance coming over him. He could recall exactly his conversation with Miss Fox and her damning condemnation of the man who called him friend. She was quite correct. It was long past time to sever the connection and leave the man to go to perdition anyway he chose. He knocked, but without waiting for an answer pushed open the door.
‘Reed, when are we leaving for Wivenhoe Park? It’s damned boring cooped up in here in the rain.’
‘I shall send a note straightaway. I have arranged to call in at Grove House to see Miss Fox tomorrow, I cannot depart before then.’
Wydale shrugged. ‘So I must spend a further day in this dismal place? I swear that I cannot see what that artist fellow, Constable, sees in the countryside. Dedham is a dreary place and if I didn’t have property here I should never vi
sit again.’
Fletcher gritted his teeth, biting back his angry retort. How could he ever have seen this man as acceptable? However, he must keep up the pretence until he had persuaded Wydale to sell him the vowels. It would not do to cause offence until he had achieved his objective.
‘I’m going to change my clothes, then shall send my groom over to Wivenhoe. I am obligated to remain until tomorrow, but there’s no reason why you cannot go as soon as I hear form General Rebow. You have a closed carriage so the rain should not bother you.’
‘Aren’t you forgetting the delectable Miss Fox?’ Wydale sneered.
‘As I have said, Wydale, I shall ride over on my own tomorrow. It is merely a courtesy visit, Miss Fox was unwell when I called earlier this morning.’
Without waiting for an answer Fletcher turned on his heel and marched out before he punched the man lolling in his chair, his dark hair in fashionable disarray and his white teeth gleaming in a knowing smirk.
He wrote his note to General Rebow but included a request that the Fox family be invited also. He doubted if Eliza had the opportunity to attend many social functions outside her home. Smiling, he sanded the paper and folded it neatly, sealing it with a blob of red wax.
He had no intention of commissioning any artist to paint landscapes of his estate,
However, spending an evening in the company of Miss Fox was something he was eagerly anticipating.
Chapter Seven
The smell of burning feathers roused Eliza. She opened her eyes to see her mother’s face bending over her, of Mr Reed there was no sign. She realized she was stretched out full-length upon the chaise-longue which stood at the far end of the drawing-room under a row of family portraits.
‘My dear, whatever is the matter? I have sent for Dr Smith and he will be here directly. I do hope you are not sickening for the fever; I have heard that there is some in the next village.’
Wearily Eliza pushed herself upright, swinging her legs down to the ground as she did so. ‘I’m fine, Mama. It was shock, nothing more.’
Fenella J. Miller Page 5