An Adventurous Lady

by Valerie King

  “Of course,” he responded. “Come, let me offer you some refreshment.” He led her to one of the antechambers, in which several servants were found dispensing a variety of drinks. A number of gentlemen were present, draining tankards of ale, and more than one lady was seated nearby sipping a glass of ratafia.

  “Do you care for champagne or would you prefer ratafia.”

  “Champagne, if you please.”

  Once sipping the cold, bubbly wine, Evelina thanked him for giving the ball. “For I do not think anything is quite so pleasant for a country neighborhood.”

  “Tis my pleasure,” he responded, inclining his head to her. “Only, I do not see your mother. I had hoped she would feel well enough to attend.”

  “In truth, Mama is very well, but she did not like leaving William and the twins.”

  “I suppose the servants tend to them as well.”

  Evelina did not know what he meant. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Well, how do you manage an evening when part of the family is at an event such as this? Are there servants enough to prepare and serve dinner for instance?”

  “Of course.” She thought his question extremely odd.

  He nodded, then laughed. “I do not know what I was thinking, as though you would give your servants a holiday because you are here. A bachelor’s establishment is a very different thing. I have often wondered how I might manage things better. So all your servants are in attendance?”

  “Well, as to that, Mama insisted that Bolney have the evening to himself, and I believe two of the upper maids are gone to visit their families in Studdingly. Otherwise, Cook and her staff, my able housekeeper, as well as the head groom and the stable boys, are performing their usual duties.”

  He shook his head and appeared dismayed. “I believe I have been taken sore advantage of for a very long time. In truth, I do not know if everything is being done properly. I suppose I should have had a wife long before now. You ladies always seem so capable. How late, for instance, does your staff remain at their duties? Do you permit them to retire early?”

  Evelina still thought these questions a little odd, particularly since they were being asked in the middle of a ball. At the same time, she had no difficulty in comprehending his ignorance of housekeeping matters. “I leave all to my housekeeper, but it is my understanding that since most of the staff rises before dawn, they are between the covers by eleven o’clock.”

  “I see. Well, that would make a great deal of sense.”

  He eyed her carefully. Lowering his voice, he queried, “And are you truly recovered from your ordeal of a week past?”

  “Very much so,” she responded cheerfully.

  “I must confess I was never more shocked. I could not imagine what manner of desperate creature would do harm to a lady.”

  “Nor I,” she returned.

  At that moment, Lady Monceaux appeared in the doorway, waving to the colonel. He turned to Evelina. “I beg you will excuse me, but it would seem my hostess has need of me.”

  “Of course.”

  When he had gone, she left the antechamber, intent on returning to the ballroom, but was suddenly accosted by Rotherstone. He took hold of her arm and guided her in a swift movement into the drawing room. “You cannot ignore me all evening,” he said. “I apprehend that you are for some reason disenchanted with me, and I thought perhaps were you to give voice to your feelings we might be friends again. Although I imagine you are still taking a pet that I have your map.”

  Evelina lifted a brow. “At the very least I am distressed because you have the map.”

  “At the very least?” he queried. “This is not at all hopeful. You seem to be holding a basket full of my misdeeds tonight.”

  “You know that I am,” she responded hotly.” She turned as if to go, but he would not let her.

  “Lower your voice,” he whispered, hooking her arm and preventing her from quitting his side. “The entire chamber is staring at us.”

  “And I do not give a fig if they are,” she retorted.

  He smiled, leaned close and whispered, “Will you come with me that I might hear your complaints, then? If I can find a private location, I promise you I will permit you to give full expression to them all.”

  “Are you certain you have sufficient courage?” she asked haughtily.

  He merely laughed. “I believe I do, though I vow you make me quake in my shoes.”

  “I see you mean to be facetious. Very well, but remember that I have warned you.”

  He led her to the music room, but there were still several persons scattered about the chamber. Beyond was a hall leading to a billiard room and a small chamber reserved for card play. Both he soon found were overflowing with guests.

  “This will not do by half,” he stated. “My cousin must be pleased to have so many people in attendance at his ball, but where the deuce are we to find a proper place to quarrel?”

  She glanced up at him. “I see you think it all a great joke,” she stated.

  “Not precisely,” he returned. “Just a large misunderstanding. Ah, I have an idea. I believe there is a conservatory beyond the billiard room.”

  Evelina continued to walk beside him and whispered, “I would hardly call any of what has occurred between us a misunderstanding.”

  He leaned close and spoke again in a low voice. “You are right. I would never use such a term as ‘misunderstanding’ to describe any of the kisses we have shared.”

  She cast him a sharply depressive look. “The last thing you will ever receive tonight, my lord, is a kiss,” she returned, her voice equally low, “if that is how I am to interpret this last absurd remark.”

  A burst of laughter erupted from the billiard room and followed them down the hall. The doors to the conservatory were closed. Rotherstone opened one and ushered her within. The air smelled damp and earthy.

  Unfortunately, this chamber was in use as well. Several younger persons including Annabelle Rewell, were playing a game of blind man’s bluff in the center of the chamber.

  “I suppose we must go outside,” he said.

  Evelina nodded her acquiescence. Sidestepping the laughing and jumping group, Rotherstone guided her from the conservatory. A path led to the north, and with a full moon glowing strongly over the dark, shadowed landscape, he suggested they take the path. She moved briskly in front of him, a circumstance that made him laugh a little more. She most certainly had taken a pet. He wondered if she had learned the results of his party on Saturday night. He thought it quite likely she had.

  * * * * * * * * *

  Evelina could not believe Rotherstone’s sangfroid. Had he no conscience at all?

  In the distance, she saw a low dry stone wall and a tall iron gate. “Will that small garden be far enough, do you suppose?” she asked, glancing at him.

  “I am not certain,” he responded. “I believe that would depend on how much of a fishwife you intend to be right now.”

  She ground her teeth. “The loudest one you have ever heard, I expect.”

  When he chuckled, she grew angrier and once more set her feet along the path. Why would he not be serious? How could he have committed so many crimes against her and think it all a great joke? But beyond this, did he not even suspect she had learned of his losses and that she might be outraged that he had been so utterly irresponsible?

  As they reached the gate, she began, “I received a very unexpected visit this morning from Lady Monceaux and Miss Ambers. What do you have to say to that?’

  He faced her. “Oh dear. I suppose you know all, then?”

  “Yes, I do,” she responded with some asperity.

  He drew open the gate, and a long, loud grating ensued. “I daresay no one has been here in a very long time.”

  “We perhaps should beware of snakes.” She passed through the opening and saw that there was a great deal of tall grass scattered among narrow gravel paths. “I had thought this was some manner of garden, but if it is, I vow I have never
seen anything so wretchedly unkempt.”

  “I would agree, but I do not think it is a garden.”

  “What, then?” She peered at something gleaming brightly in the moonlight and drew back instantly. “That is a gravestone. Gage, I fear we have stumbled into an ancient graveyard.”

  He chuckled very low against her ear. “Frightened, Evie? Do not tell me you are afraid of a ghost or two? Although you may cling to my arm for safety if you so desire.”

  She did not stand either on her pride or ceremony and quickly took hold of his arm. Glancing up at the trees to the northeast, she said, “Why, that must be the church tower at Gildstone, so very close. Do you suppose this graveyard is connected?”

  “It is not so far distant. I imagine it is or was at one time. Only the trees separate the church by little more than a hundred yards.”

  Evelina was appalled that a graveyard would be so poorly cared for. “Have you noticed,” she said, glancing about at all the fallen stones, “that your cousin’s property is quite badly maintained?”

  “As it happens, I have.”

  “Earlier, he was complaining to me that he did not always know how to manage his property and that he should have taken a wife. At first, I agreed with him, but then I recalled that you do not have a wife and that Blacklands is a perfect model of excellence.”

  He stopped her in their progression and turned her to face him. “That is the first kind word I have had from you this evening. Thank you very much. Ah, I see you are still angry with me. Well, perhaps now would be the proper time to come the crab. You may commence, if it so pleases you.”

  She tried not to laugh, for he was being ludicrous. However, she had but to recall to mind that he had lost one thousand pounds to Sir Alfred and the others and her amusement vanished entirely. She did not begin her complaints with that, however. Instead, she dwelled on his numerous sins, how from the first he had been unwilling to oblige his neighbors, how he had obstructed the finding of the treasure by not permitting Mr. Creed to reveal the solution to the map, how he had been a perfect cretin in demanding three things of her merely for the right to explore his land for the treasure, and finally how he had taken the map from her in the name of honor. Yes, she spoke eloquently, damning his character here and there as it pleased her, until she was ready to broach the most recent, critical subject.

  “And after all these terrible things,” she stated strongly, “you must add to your faults by losing one thousand pounds at hazard. What do you have to say for yourself?”

  He shrugged. “Well, ’twas not one thousand.”

  Hope rose in her breast. “Was this merely a vicious recounting, then, that I had from Lady Monceaux and Miss Ambers?”

  “No, for I do not believe either of these ladies capable of the smallest viciousness. As it happens, I lost one thousand and eleven pounds.”

  She drew in a sharp breath. “How vile you are to speak so lightly on a subject you must know ignites my rage. You must know I despise gaming of every sort.”

  He opened his eyes as though innocent. In the moonlight, they were as dark as the night. “But I recall Will telling me you often played at cribbage with him for a tuppence a point. I think you a very great hypocrite to take me to task for something you engage in yourself.”

  She growled. “You know very well there is a vast difference between the two.”

  “Very true. Cribbage is played with little pegs while hazard is not.”

  “Ooooh,” she shouted. “You would try the patience of a saint.”

  “I think you a saint,” he said.

  “What? Now you will mock me?”

  “On no account. As it happens, I do think you a saint.” His smile grew crooked. “I have thought so ever since I saw you reclining on the chaise beneath the apple tree with William cuddled in your arms. I thought you a saint then, or at least one of the most virtuous ladies I have ever known.”

  Her mouth was agape. She could feel the cool night air passing over her lips and teasing her throat. What a beast he was to have said something so . . . so splendid to her. She did not know what next to say, indeed, all her desire to keep reading him the riot act seemed to dissipate.

  In the next moment, he slid his arms about her waist, and she did not protest, not even in the slightest. “I was never more grateful,” he said, “than when Sir Edgar made it all but impossible for me to refuse that first invitation to dine at Wildings, for then I was able to watch you amongst your family.”

  She placed her hands on his chest. “Gage,” she said, only faintly aware that she had addressed him again by his Christian name, “of what are you speaking? You are making no sense.”

  He drew her a little closer. “I am speaking of you,” he responded, leaning down to kiss her on the forehead.

  “You are trying to make me forget why I am so angry with you,” she said.

  “Am I succeeding?”

  “No,” she retorted, but already it seemed she had forgotten.

  “Then I must do a great deal better.”

  Without so much as a by-your-leave, he pulled her tightly against him and kissed her hard on the mouth.

  Evelina was stunned. How had it happened that the dressing-down she had given him had turned quite masterfully into a kiss? Oh, yes, now she remembered. He had called her a saint. Her traitorous arms slid up his chest and wrapped themselves tenderly about his neck.

  Rotherstone was kissing her again. It had been far too long, ages and ages. How delicious his lips felt against hers. Somewhere deep within her mind she knew she should not be kissing him, but she could not for the life of her recall why that was.

  He drew back slightly, and because the moonlight was slanting just so across his features, she could see that he was smiling. “Am I doing better now?”

  “Better than what?” she asked dreamily.

  His smile broadened. “Definitely better.”

  He kissed her again and again, a minute passing and then another. Evelina drifted away from Darwell Lodge and Maybridge, away from Blacklands and Wildings. She was sailing to a sweet distant land that had never before been explored and one she was certain she would not want to leave for a very long time.

  Adventure was in the feel and taste of his lips, in the strength of his arms as he held her, in the way his tongue searched out the depths of her mouth.

  “Evie,” he whispered against her lips.

  “Mm,” she responded softly.

  “Can you trust me?” he asked.

  At that, she opened her eyes, drawing back just enough to look at him. His words had brought her sharply back to earth. She could not read his expression clearly since the moonlight played tricks on whatever object it touched. “What do you mean?” she asked. She drew back a little more until her hands were clasped loosely at the back of his neck.

  “It is true that I lost a great sum on Saturday night, but I want you to know that it was to a purpose.”

  “I do not understand,” she said.

  “I am not at liberty to explain further, which is why I am asking you whether or not you can trust me.”

  She searched his face for a long moment. “I cannot say,” she said at last. “I have known you but a little while, only three weeks, and what I do know of you is so mixed in intention and result.”

  “I am in love with you,” he said abruptly.

  “Wh-what?” she said.

  “I am fully, completely and desperately in love with you.”

  “But you cannot be.” she said. “That is quite impossible.”

  Now he grinned. “You have changed everything for me, from that first night on Blacklands, and I love you.”

  “I believe you have gone mad.”

  “Wondrously so.”

  Evelina still could not believe she had heard him correctly. Rotherstone was in love with her?

  “Besides, what is it you think I am doing right now?” He kissed her full on the lips and drew back.

  “You mean in kissing me?”
r />   He nodded.

  “Flirting?” she asked, mystified.

  “I tell you again, I am in love with you, Evelina. More than you will ever know.”

  Now he was so serious that her limbs began to tremble. She recalled what her brother had told her before she had come to Wildings. Your heart is a rusted gate. What man will ever want you?

  She understood now that there was nothing rusted, stuck or otherwise unusable about her heart. She had merely been waiting for Rotherstone all these years.

  “Is there even the smallest chance,” he asked, “that you might return my regard?”

  “Yes,” she whispered. “Though I know I should not, I do. I love you, Gage, but I am still not certain if you are a man to be trusted.”

  He did not in any manner mock her. Indeed, he appeared more serious than ever before. “More than anything, I want you to be able to trust me.”

  She released him. “Last night, you lost over a thousand pounds. My brother and deceased father ruined the Chelwood estate because of gaming. How am I ever supposed to trust a man who would lose so vast a sum in a single night?”

  Rotherstone touched her cheek with his hand. “I do not know, but I sincerely hope in time you will be able to.” He released her cheek and offered his arm. “Come, I believe we should return.”

  Evelina took up his arm and glanced at the graveyard. The careful mistress of Wildings could not keep from saying, “This is truly dreadful. Look how many stones are lying flat, and an equal number broken.”

  * * * * * * * * *

  “Indeed,” Rotherstone murmured as he guided Evelina toward the gate. His thoughts became fixed suddenly on his cousin, on the unkempt appearance of his grounds, on his habits of gaming frequently in London, on the part he played in helping Sir Alfred to rob his father seven years ago.

  He addressed Evelina. “And you are very certain you did not see the man who struck you down?”

  She glanced at him sharply. “What made you think of that now?” she said, passing through the gate.

  “I believe that only a desperate individual would have risked so much by attacking you. Of late, I have begun to wonder if that person was one of your party.”