Having gotten little rest during the lengthy carriage ride from whence he had bade farewell to his troops, he felt both mentally and physically drained. But then, perhaps that wasn’t entirely due to his journey. The news of his pending betrothal to Adriana had set him back upon his heels. Once again, he found himself reliving those moments preceding his break with his father and his departure from home.
Thoroughly incensed that his sire would seek to arrange his life by committing him to a mere slip of a girl ten years his junior, he had stormed out of the house in rebellious resentment. Even at the age of six and ten, he had been acquainted with far more comely maidens to whom in years to come he’d have dutifully promised to give his protection and perhaps even his heart had his father considered any one of them suitable as a future spouse for his son; but almost from the time of her birth, the late Sedgwick Wyndham had been especially partial to the youngest daughter of his closest friend and neighbor. Never mind that the girl had seemed destined to remain not only a spindly little reed but a plain, awkward gamine with enormous, ebon eyes and a thin face. How could anyone have expected anything more? That was the way she had always looked, and in contrast to her two older sisters, who were petite, fair-haired, and exceptionally pretty, as well as closer to his own age, Adriana had seemed like nothing more than a dark, nondescript shadow in an otherwise extraordinarily handsome family. Notwithstanding, his father had set his aspirations resolutely upon six-year-old Adriana, recognizably the most studious of the three siblings, and deemed her a prudent match for his only male offspring. In that decision, Sedgwick had remained firmly dedicated, even declaring he would have no other for his son.
Colton had balked, to the point that he had left home the very day of his angry confrontation with his parent. He had entered military academy, at which time he had gained the support of his maternal uncle, Lord Alistair Dermot, who had confessed with a mischievous gleam in his eye that over the passage of some years he had been secretly yearning to find a righteous cause to go against the dictates of his brother-in-law, whom many of his peers had considered keenly intuitive in evaluating the worth of a person. Just once, Uncle Alistair had said, he wanted to prove Sedgwick Wyndham capable of committing errors in judgment, but no matter how much he may have longed for that event to come to fruition, Alistair had failed to gain the evidence he had sought. Now it seemed the contrary was true.
During the course of the next two years, Colton had learned the art of war and, in 1801, had gone to Egypt as a young officer, second lieutenant grade, where he had seen service under Lieutenant General Sir Abercombe. From there, he had distinguished himself time and again in many bloody conflicts against the enemy, daringly leading his men into the thickest of frays or, when the enemy swarmed upon them, either standing firm in a solid square of armed men facing four sides or else advancing or retreating as a block, an infantry formation upon which commanders of the British Empire even now often relied. During the next fourteen years in which Uncle Alistair and letters from family members had been his only contact with home, a series of promotions had elevated him to the status of colonel in command of a sizable regiment under Lord Wellington. Though Waterloo had recently evinced the deterioration of Napoleon’s ambitions, Colton had let it be known that he intended to carry on with his military career. Wellington had been delighted and assured him that if his wounds healed properly he would make general ere the year was out. Then had come news of his father’s death, and Colton had had a change of heart. After finally getting on his feet again, he had discharged himself from the surgeon’s care and begged leave of Wellington and the English army. Casting his sights toward home, he had sworn an oath to himself that he would do his duty by his family and to his newly acquired marquessate. In spite of their past disagreements, he had felt an enormous pride in his father’s accomplishments. Even to think of the title being bestowed upon another had gone against everything he had held dear, and he had become increasingly resolved to keep the marquessate firmly within his grasp.
In his years as an officer, he had never given serious consideration to the girl he had once rejected except to lament the fact that he had hurt her deeply by his adamant refusal. He had certainly never imagined that one day she would reach the extraordinary degree of exquisiteness she had attained during his absence. Had someone swung a wood plank across the back of his knees and swept his legs out from under him the moment she announced her name, he couldn’t have been more surprised.
Still, her unrivaled beauty would mean little to him if the two of them proved incompatible, which had seemed the way of it shortly after Samantha had recognized him. The girl’s stilted aloofness had evidenced something closely approaching resentment. Then, too, considering the number of years he had held staunchly to his decision not to yield to his father’s dictates, he couldn’t envision himself accepting a betrothal merely to pay tribute to the elder’s memory. Something more promising would have to manifest itself ere he’d relent and turn his thoughts in line with what his sire had decreed for him.
A pair of hours later, Samantha left Percy chatting with her mother and went upstairs to seek out her brother. At her light knock, she heard his muffled, halting footfalls and the thump of his cane approaching the door. When the portal was drawn open, she found him garbed in older military attire that had softened over the years and clung more readily to his tall frame, evincing his broad shoulders and the sleekness of his hips.
“I hope I’m not disturbing you,” she ventured apprehensively. Of a sudden, he seemed like a stranger, and she felt a surge of regret for having come. “Were you still resting?”
“No, actually, I was considering taking the dogs out for a short walk. My leg could use the exercise. It tightens up on me when I sit for long spells, as was the case during my journey here.” Leaning heavily upon the cane, he backed away from the entrance and, with a welcoming grin, pulled the door wide. “Come in.”
“Are you sure?” she inquired in a tiny voice, closely reminiscent of the way she had sounded as a child.
Old memories of happier times came winging back to Colton, drawing a chuckle from him. “Indeed, please do. You don’t know how often I reminisced on your visits to my room after I left here. Whether you came to beg for help in repairing a broken toy or to be read a story, you made me feel cherished as a brother. After so long a time, I feel honored that you still have a desire to seek me out.”
Moving inward with more enthusiasm, Samantha glanced about the chamber, finding it basically unchanged from the last time she had entered it years ago. As a child, she had idolized her brother and suffered through a painful loneliness after he had gone away. As much as she had tried earlier that afternoon to subdue the anxieties aroused by his conversation with their mother, she had found herself beset by a niggling apprehension that he’d revolt against the arrangements that had been made during his absence and once again take his leave. After being his own man for half his lifetime, he had grown accustomed to doing just as he pleased. It was understandable that he might resent intrusion into that area now.
Her smile wavered between uncertainty of the future and gratification that he had at last come home. “You can’t imagine how much I’ve missed you, Colton. During the first several years after your departure, there were times when I felt so lost and forlorn that I just wanted to sit down and have a good cry. After Papa’s passing, I found it doubly hard to stay here in the manse, especially without Percy. Every room seemed to echo with Papa’s deep voice and laughter. If you’re not aware of it, Colton, you not only look like him, but your voice has the same mellow tones that his had.”
“Uncle Alistair complained about that on a fairly frequent basis,” he acknowledged with a soft chuckle. “I suspect I startled him more than he cared to admit whenever I’d come up behind him unawares and say something. Once, he even called me Sedgwick before he realized his error.”
The silkily lashed, dark gray eyes sparkled with amusement. “Dear Uncle Alistair, what a darling he is.”
Never having thought of his uncle in that precise way before, Colton offered her a skeptical grin. “Well, he certainly helped me out when I was in dire need, but I always assumed that was only because he wanted to thwart Father any way he could.”
Samantha’s soft smile hinted otherwise. “Uncle Alistair seemed to enjoy giving the impression that he and Papa were ever at odds. Some of their views were dissimilar, granted, and neither was hesitant about speaking his mind. At times, when they argued, one could even believe they were the fiercest of enemies, yet if anyone spoke against the other in either’s presence, woe to the fellow, for his ears would soon be ringing. I must admit Uncle Alistair had me completely duped until I saw tears welling up in his eyes at Papa’s funeral. That was when he acknowledged he had never known a more honorable nor a more intelligent man than our father. He even avouched that he had never been more pleased about a wedding than the day his sister married Sedgwick.”
Totally astounded by her claims, Colton could only stare at her as he tried to mentally assimilate what she was telling him. Initially, Alistair had led him to believe that his aim was merely to show up Sedgwick as being opinionated and self-willed. Now Colton was hearing something totally contrary to that premise. Feeling a bit dumbstruck at this new perspective of their uncle, Colton could only shake his head in wonder. “I suppose I’ll have to reform my thinking and consider that Uncle Alistair’s grumbling complaints about Father were merely for my benefit. Should I also negate the idea that he was actually looking for a way to recompense Father for his flaws when he offered to support me?”
A smile traced across Samantha’s lips as her translucent gray eyes sparkled back at him. “The likelihood has merit. He probably didn’t want you to feel beholden to him.”
The manly brows flicked upward in amazement. “I should’ve known something was afoot the night I went to pay my debt to him and he told me that he had just bought a small estate near Bradford on Avon so he’d be able to visit his sister whenever he wished. The very thought of their proximity left me wondering how he was going to cope with Father’s presence since our parents were together so much.”
“After Uncle Alistair moved into his estate, he seemed to enjoy testing Papa’s knowledge about this and that during his many visits here. I thought for a time he was merely trying to tweak Papa’s temper, but at the funeral he confessed that whenever he wanted to know how some mechanism worked or some such thing, he’d just ask the one most likely to have that knowledge . . . our father.” Having started weeping, she tried to laugh it off as she drew a dainty handkerchief from her cuff and hurriedly dabbed at the tears trickling from her eyes. “Foolish me, getting so emotional.”
“I must give Uncle Alistair credit for his cunning. He certainly had me fooled,” Colton admitted, a pensive grin slanting across his face.
Seeking another subject that would stem the emotional watery flow, Samantha turned her attention to her surroundings. Not since she had moved from her bedchamber just off the bathing room across the hall had she been in this area of the manse. Upon maturing, she had taken larger chambers in the north section, near the suite of rooms their parents had resided in for the whole of their married life and where her mother had chosen to remain after Sedgwick’s passing. Samantha suffered no doubt that the happiest years she had ever spent in the manse were those wherein she had been ensconsed across the hall within close proximity to her brother.
“Nothing at Randwulf Manor has really changed since you left, Colton, especially in this part of the house. Of course, your new chambers are far more impressive, but I have always thought these bedrooms cozier.”
Samantha ran slender fingers fondly over the top of the desk where her brother had once studied languages, arithmetic, and science, among a host of other subjects that his private tutor had considered needful for a maturing young man, if only to help one face without shirking the difficult challenges of the world. According to the gentlemanly scholar, Colton had demonstrated himself of superior intellect in his studies in spite of the fact that he had also evidenced a tenaciously stubborn streak, which Malcolm Grimm had declared had often tested his patience. According to the man, that tendency had provoked lengthy debates between them, which had proven beneficial to them both. The scholar had also considered Colton unique among his peers in that he had carefully researched his facts before settling his mind firmly upon a matter. In a vast majority of the cases, which the two had passionately discussed, Mr. Grimm had been quick to acknowledge that the youth had established himself correct in his hypotheses.
Samantha smiled at her brother over her shoulder. “When I saw you standing in the hall outside the gallery this afternoon, I first thought you were a stranger. Then it finally dawned on me that you had the looks of someone I had known very well. Of course, your features aren’t the only things you’ve inherited from Papa.”
Perhaps it was his own intuitive instinct that led Colton to think she was referring to his willful independence. “I can imagine I’ve been just as stubborn about the betrothal as Father was. It certainly didn’t help that we were at opposite ends of the spectrum.”
Samantha chewed a lip worriedly as she strolled across the darkly hued oriental rug cushioning the floor. Upon reaching the fireplace mantel, she traced a finger reflectively over the elaborate scroll that finished its marble edge as she broached the main reason for her visit. “I tried to ignore your conversation with Mama this afternoon, but it was impossible. You must be aware that it’s a subject that deeply concerns me.”
“The agreement that Father arranged between Adriana and me, you mean.” Colton rubbed his neck where tension had formed a kink soon after he had been told of the contract to which his father had committed him. It was not that he was against seeing Adriana again, or even courting her. In truth, he yearned for feminine companionship, the sort that lent no shame to a man, and she was, after all, far more exquisite than even the rare few he had deemed exceptionally beautiful during his lifetime. Still, he was a man who had considered his independence of great import; he wasn’t necessarily anxious to give up that autonomy immediately upon his return home. He had no wish to hurt Adriana or his parent, but it would probably come to that should he decide not to marry the girl, for he wasn’t at all sure a demure young lady with Adriana’s strict upbringing wouldn’t bore him nigh to his grave.
During his absence from home, he had deemed it prudent to shun lengthy entanglements and had avoided innocents with doting, ambitious fathers, many of whom had been his superior officers. He had had no lofty reputation to uphold and, for the most part, had casually sought the company of vivacious, exciting women. Then there had been the widows of close friends, who had come to him in the dark of night, at odds with themselves as they sought to assuage their sorrow and loneliness with one who had shared in the loss of their loved one and yet could be trusted to understand and hold his tongue.
Apart from his temporary light-o’-loves, he had become involved with an actress in London, which, taking into account his infrequent and limited visits to the city, had been a fairly casual affair in spite of the fact that it had been going on for perhaps five years now. Still, he had never considered his involvement with the beauteous Pandora Mayes of any consequence. He had merely deemed it safe to be with her in view of her inability to have children and the fact that he had never heard her name bandied about among the officers and bachelors. Yet, even while pampering her with lavish gifts, he had been fairly forthright and warned her that one day their affair would have to end. The less Pandora had known about his aristocracy, he had decided, the fewer inquiries she’d be inclined to make and the less likelihood she’d be able to embarrass him later on. It hadn’t been until an article extolling his valor had appeared in the London Gazette that the actress had learned of his father’s marquessate, but, even then, he had casually brushed off her questions by explaining that he had left home much at odds with his family. He had never declared that as an aristocrat he was bound by the
requirements of his birth to marry a lady from among his peers, but in that area, he had made a private commitment to himself that when the time came to marry, he’d do the honorable thing and faithfully adhere to the union lest he embarrass his heirs by begetting nameless contenders for the marquessate.
Though the Wyndhams and the Suttons had been close friends and neighbors for what seemed an eternity, Adriana was almost a complete stranger to him. Still, he had to admit that he was as intrigued as any man could possibly be. Beyond being incredibly beautiful, she had a body that seemed far more tempting than any he had ever held. Softly rounded in all the right places, yet slender and long of limb, she had whet his imagination to such a degree that he found himself wondering if he’d find her just as enticing waking up naked beside him in the mornings.
Samantha turned to face her brother, beset by her own deepening apprehension. “The contract concerning you and Adriana is exactly what I mean.”
Colton made no further effort to curb a mounting desire to jeer. “Apparently I’m the last one to know how well Father planned my life.”
“He did nothing more for you than he did for me.”
Fairly amazed by her statement, Colton could only stare at his sibling. The couple seemed so taken with each other that he found it hard to believe that a betrothal had been arranged for them. “You mean that your marriage was someone else’s idea?”
Samantha inclined her head with a well-defined nod. “Aye, ‘twas, and though you may have difficulty believing that it’s possible, we love each other deeply.”
“When did this come about? On your wedding night?”
Samantha’s eyes flared with indignation at the mocking derision in her brother’s tone. He had made it clear from his youth that he didn’t believe in arranged marriages or betrothals and was highly cynical of their outcome. Now he was letting his skepticism spew over like a boiling cauldron. “Our love for each other began to sprout during our courtship. Since then, it has firmly taken root. Truly, we find it difficult to imagine how our love could have come about if Papa hadn’t planted the idea and initiated our betrothal.”
The Reluctant Suitor Page 11