“Governess to his children.” Trembles that affected her limb transferred to him. Did his touch do that or was she merely frightened and nervous from recent events? “Also, he is my great uncle.”
“I see.” The slender ankle wasn’t swollen, so she must have merely landed wrong upon it. After a cursory examination, he couldn’t stop caressing the area. Her foot, not overly large or excessively petite, was quite average, but when he gently rubbed the appendage under cover of seeking knotted muscles, a stifled moan escaped her. The sound sent awareness skittering over his skin. Intriguing. “How long have you lived there?”
“Several years.”
“What were you doing on the road today?”
“It’s my day off, so I walked into the village to pick up a few things I’d ordered.”
When he traced the high arch of her instep with a fingertip, she gasped and yanked her foot from his hold. As her gaze careened into his, her pupils had dilated. “Stop that this instant. I’m not badly injured and shall be fine.” There was a certain breathlessness to her words as she reached for her boot.
And that made him insanely curious. Was she a virgin or did she have experience behind her? For that matter, was she spoken for? Then he shook his head. Why did he care? Before he could ask her more questions, the butler returned along with a footman bearing a tea service. Drew rose to his feet. “Thank you, Jeffries.” He took a wet, folded towel from a silver salver, and when he would have kneeled again, Miss Copeland snatched it from his hand.
“I can tend to myself.” She pressed the towel to her ankle. “I’m sure after a brief rest I can return home without consequence.” Her eyes remained on her task. “Thank you for the kindness, but it wasn’t necessary.”
Drew frowned, for she’d dismissed him without apology. Did she find him lacking? Hot anger mounted. She didn’t know him enough to decide that. Jeffries directed the footman to place the tea service on a low table nearby. Meeting Miss Copeland had been the most exciting part of his stay in the countryside to date, but that didn’t stop the familiar burn of rising annoyance in his chest. If she wished to ignore that spark of attraction between them, so be it.
“Obviously, since you have no more need of me, I’ll leave you alone.” The last thing he wanted was for her to witness the worst of what he was so early in their acquaintance. “Ring for Jeffries when you’re ready to depart. He’ll have a carriage brought around.”
He quit the room with more questions than answers, and for the first time in years, none of them revolved around his title, his family, or him personally.
Chapter Four
June 19, 1817
“Excuse me, Miss Copeland, but you have a visitor.”
Sarah’s head came up from the book she’d been reading. She stared at the butler as if she’d never seen him before. “I beg your pardon. A visitor for me?” She nudged her eyeglasses farther up the bridge of her nose.
“That’s what the gentleman said.” The butler came forward with a calling card on a silver salver. “I’ve shown him into the front parlor.”
“Thank you.” With a shaking hand, she plucked the card from the tray, glanced at it and gasped. Lord Hadleigh. Oh, dear lord, the earl had come to pay her a visit. Heat slapped at her cheeks. “I’ll be there presently.”
“Very good, miss.” The butler departed on silent feet.
What could he want with her now? Immediately, her last interaction with the earl jumped into her mind. The strong, solid feel of his arms around her as they rode through the countryside, the way pleasant tingles of something had assailed her when his arm had brushed her breast during the ride, or the wicked awareness that had stolen up her leg when he’d examined her ankle came rushing back to her. She swore she could still feel every delicious moment that he’d touched her, could hear the breathlessness in her voice as she’d answered his questions.
I acted like a ninny, pure and simple.
Had he been able to tell she’d never been that close to a man before she wasn’t related to? Oh, it was maddening to think that she’d left such a silly impression upon him. Once more her musings ran away, and she saw him in her mind’s eye.
When he’d nearly plowed her over with his horse, she’d felt nothing except annoyance and contempt for him. Clearly, he’d never given thought to anyone other than himself. Once he’d revealed that he was the Earl of Hadleigh—her neighbor to boot—her stomach had nearly rejected the breakfast she’d eaten that morning. And she’d argued with him for goodness’ sake! Right there on the public road as if she’d had no class. What would her great uncle say if he discovered that little scandal? Surely, she’d be turned out onto the street without a reference.
Drat, drat, drat. I dressed down an earl.
Perhaps that’s why he was here today, to call her out on her behavior and demand an apology. The heat intensified in her cheeks. She would offer it, of course, but there had been a flash of need and longing in the depths of his stormy blue gray eyes she’d seen briefly when he thought she must not have been paying attention. Who was he beneath the title, and why did he represent such a mystery that compelled her to solve it?
The book Sarah had been reading slipped off her lap to land on the floor with a soft thud. She ignored it and stared at the calling card in her hand. The stock had a hefty weight, so he’d spent good coin on it. The printing was elegant and slightly raised. When she brought it to her nose and took a sniff, faint traces of bay rum and lime drifted into her nostrils. Invigorating and as intriguing as the man himself. It spoke of exotic places and a freedom she could only wonder about. Why had she not noticed it the day she rode in front of him on that large horse? Probably because her nerves, her senses, her brain had been flooded by the situation.
With him.
Oh, bother.
As the muscles of her stomach knotted, she passed a hand over the front of her muslin day dress—a serviceable charcoal gray to hide stains and wear. It wasn’t her best dress, but not her worst, either. A sigh escaped her. It would have to do, for she wasn’t vain enough to change for him. Earl or not, he’d been rude and arrogant, and he didn’t deserve anything more than bare civility. She’d give him that and then send him on his way.
Yet he’d also been a touch concerned for her ankle…
Only because he didn’t wish to have me make a scene or demand some sort of recompense. And her injury had been his fault to begin with! She gave her head a shake to clear her thoughts. I must stop dithering. He’s here to see Uncle. Nothing more. Then another thought occurred. Did he mean to inform her uncle of their meeting and blame the entire circumstances on her? We’ll see about that.
After retrieving her book, she tucked the calling card into its pages and then hid the novel beneath a cushion on the sofa. Since it was in her own sitting room, no one should disturb it, but there was a chance one of the children would snoop. Then she stood and shook out her skirts, smoothed a hand along her stomach and left the room. By the time she reached the parlor on the first floor, her belly hurt from worry and a smidgeon of dread.
“Oh, drat,” she whispered to herself the second she saw him. He was as stimulating as he’d been the last time.
The earl rose when she entered, his stormy blue gray eyes focused entirely on her with an intensity that stole her breath. “Good afternoon, Miss Copeland.” His baritone put her in mind of shadowy corners in ballrooms and wicked assignations in a garden maze. “I trust you’ve been keeping well since we last met.”
“Good afternoon, Lord Hadleigh.” Gooseflesh popped on her skin. Perhaps she’d read too many thrilling novels and that was the reason for her silly reaction. He was an earl and her nearest neighbor. This was an ordinary social call, but Sarah didn’t hesitate to set him straight. The sooner he was gone, the sooner she could think about something that had nothing to do with him. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, my lord, but my uncle and aunt have taken their children to a summer fair in the neighboring county. Perhaps you should return at a
later time.”
“How fortuitous, for I am here to see you, not them.”
“You’re here to see me,” she repeated in a monotone as if she were the world’s dullest parrot. “Why? I’m nobody.” As her spectacles slipped down, she shoved them back up with a slight push of her finger.
The earl cocked one midnight eyebrow. “Only if you believe that.” His expression didn’t indicate whether he did or did not think such of her.
Annoyance twisted through her chest. “So says the man who didn’t hesitate to tell me he was an earl.” What was it about him that made her want to argue? “I’m quite certain you never think you’re a nobody.” He couldn’t relate to her even if he tried.
“You’d be surprised,” he said in a soft voice, almost to himself. Then he straightened his spine and shrugged. His blue superfine jacket drew her notice to the breadth of his shoulders, and the gray satin waistcoat embroidered with fruit done in blue thread had her gaze wandering to his flat belly. “The earl is who I am.”
The normal pitch of his voice snapped her attention back to his face. “I’m naught but a governess or poor relation. What do you want with me?” No sense dancing around the issue. Already, her wariness of him battled with the skitters of awareness sailing over her skin.
Why was that? She’d not experienced such a thing before with a man. Of course, she’d never had cause to find herself in the company of one alone either, yet this one was different. It was almost as if he needed help but had no idea how to ask for it. That vulnerability lurked in the backs of his eyes, waiting. Why, though? He should want for nothing in life.
The earl watched her with a slight grin curving the most chiseled set of lips she’d ever seen outside of a statue. “Put away your claws, Miss Copeland. I’m not here to antagonize you.” He clasped his hands behind his back. Each time he moved, threads of silver highlighting his midnight hair, arranged in a popular style, glinted in the sun. Heavier silver marked his meticulous sideburns, so he wasn’t a young man any longer, even if he looked virile and powerful. “In fact, I wished to see how you’ve fared with your ankle.” He raked his regard down her body with such a leisurely pace Sarah swore she felt as if he’d caressed her.
That wasn’t proper behavior from a neighbor simply visiting. Tamping the urge to give into a shiver, she cleared her throat. “Oh, it’s healed nicely. No further damage. Thank you.” Her nerves were strung too tight and knots pulled in her belly merely from his proximity. Surely, he would leave soon. After that she could finally relax.
“That is good to hear.” The man had wicked promise in his stormy eyes, but why? Was he amusing himself at her expense? Again, for what purpose?
“Yes, well, if that’s all, my lord?” She was much like a bumpkin in his presence, for he was so elegant and well dressed. His dove-gray breeches alone probably cost more than half her yearly stipend. “I have things to attend.”
“Ah, but that’s a lie. You said yourself your charges were out of pocket, thus leaving you nothing but free time.”
“The children don’t occupy all of my time. I do practice on a flute when I’m free.” In fact, she’d planned to do so later today.
“Interesting.” He came forward a few steps, and the gleam in his eyes was more pronounced. A tiny tremor danced down her spine. “Since you’ve suffered no ill-effects, would you walk with me between this house and mine?”
Sarah stared as if she were a green girl just out of the schoolroom. “Right now?” It came out as a squeak that showed her as hopelessly inexperienced.
“Why not? You’ve nothing on your schedule.”
This type of situation never happened to her. “But—”
“Do you have other tasks to perform around the house?”
“Well, no but—”
“Are you practicing your flute for a concert?”
“I can only wish, but sadly, no.”
“Then come with me, else I’ll pull rank on you again and order you to.” The command in his voice was both thrilling and troubling. “Where is the harm in keeping me company?”
Ah, so he’d only asked her to help pass the time. Some of the nervousness eased. He wasn’t interested in her as a woman; he was merely being his prickish self. “So I understand, you wish to walk with me for no other reason than to…?” She trailed off, perplexed, and gazed at him from over the rims of her spectacles. That didn’t put things into greater clarity.
He rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “To spend time in your company.”
“Oh.” Her heartbeat accelerated. This was too fantastic to believe. Surely she hadn’t gained his interest with that one volatile meeting three days ago. “Spend time with me.” When had she resorted to repeating someone else’s words? She had more intelligence than that.
“Of course.” Banked power rumbled in his baritone and fairly sang in his tense body language. She’d already seen his temper, but the hint of vulnerability shadowing the back of his eyes tugged at her, begged her for help. But why and how?
The awareness of him rushed back, more insistent this time. Surely, he didn’t mean anything more than a walk. They’d just met. But the underlying current of tension crackling between them compelled her to agree. Slowly, she nodded and put her eyeglasses back into place. “Very well.” She’d be an idiot of the first order if she didn’t at least discover what it was he didn’t say.
“Good.” A tiny grin flirted with his lips. “Shall we? No time like the present.” He swept an arm outward to indicate the door while he stood back so she could proceed him. “Perhaps we’ll indulge in another invigorating conversation.”
There was all too much room for interpretation in that statement. Heat stung her cheeks, but it intrigued her to know he found their argument the other day stimulating like she had. Still, did the earl have a hidden agenda? As she passed him and moved into the corridor, she dismissed the silly thought. Of course he didn’t. They were practically strangers. Perhaps he was indeed here to ask after her health and merely take her walking.
Except… life isn’t that transparent or easy.
“I must find my bonnet and gloves.”
He nodded but his eyes narrowed. “Wouldn’t want to do something so scandalous as appearing on a country lane sans one’s headgear.”
“It is a bit ridiculous. However, one malicious comment from a passing villager, and my position will be in jeopardy.” Did he not understand how the world viewed women and judged them twice as hard as they did men?
A quarter of an hour later and once outside, gratitude filled Sarah, for the sun was high and it warmed her skin. The birds chirped in the trees and shrubbery, and the fields were filled with wildflowers or hay and wheat, depending on the whim of the farmers. She breathed in deep lungfuls of the country air and released them. Yes, a walk on such a day as this was what she needed for a new perspective. At the last second, she couldn’t quite stop the sigh of pleasure that escaped.
“Have you lived in Derbyshire all your life?”
“Only the past five years. Before then, I resided in Surrey, for my father was a merchant and needed to maintain a residence closer to the capital, but London is too expensive to live in.”
“That leads me to my next question.” Though he kept his hands clasped behind his back as they walked, his commanding presence beside her couldn’t be ignored. He was much like a distant storm, not yet a threat but looming. “Who are your people?”
She frowned. That was rather personal. “My father worked in importing whatever goods he could find that he thought would prove interesting to the public. His business was fledgling, but he did well enough. I am an only child.”
“Where is your father now?”
A sudden stab of grief went through her. It would never go fully away, of course, and neither should it, for she would miss her parents dreadfully her entire life. She raised a gloved hand and wrapped it around her locket. “He perished on a ship coming from France to England. Papa and his business partner had gone over t
o pick up a shipment of brandy and champagne. Since the war ended, they could legitimately import it, and there is quite a demand for the liquor here.” She stared straight ahead on the path, not daring to look at him lest she catch pity in his eyes.
“What of your mother?” he asked in a soft voice.
“She went with them. I declined the trip due to my suffering a head cold at the time.” She paused, forcing a swallow into her tight throat. “There was a fire onboard. They were trapped on a lower deck.” Her voice broke. “The people on the upper, more expensive decks mostly survived.” That was the way the world operated in all its crevices. The ones with coin and titles and prestige were often handed chances to survive where everyone else was left to flounder.
“Besides your great uncle, do you have any other relatives?”
“No.” She could hardly force the word from her tight throat. “I’m afraid my lines are hideously short-lived, and those that didn’t perish early either couldn’t reproduce or only had one child.” Not a very grand pedigree.
“I apologize for causing you discomfort. I well know how disappointing life can be.” The earl looked at her the same time she turned her head. Their gazes connected. That fleeting trace of vulnerability shadowed his eyes and compelled her to keep walking beside him. “I lost my own father two years ago.”
Sarah blinked away sudden tears, whether for her own story or for his she couldn’t say. Needing something to do with her hands, she fiddled with her spectacles. “Grief doesn’t hurt any less, does it, no matter how many years pass. It is something we must adjust to, learn to live with lest it consume and destroy us.”
“I haven’t experienced any sort of adverse reactions.”
When she glanced at him, she caught a muscle spasm beneath his left eye. That was… odd. To say nothing of the flash of anger in his stormy blue-gray depths. Had he not made peace with his loss, or had he not let himself feel the grief? Either way was damaging. To think upon it was both fascinating and concerning, but it wasn’t her place to ask. This walk was an aberration. All too soon, once his conscience stopped berating him for causing her injury, he’d go about his business and forget her.
The Soul of a Storme Page 5