Читать книгу Courtship In The Regency Ballroom: His Cinderella Bride / Devilish Lord, Mysterious Miss - Энни Берроуз, ANNIE BURROWS - Страница 14

Hester was too worked up to fall asleep for a very long time. And when she did, the nightmare came back.

Even though thick smoke was blinding her, she knew she was in the summerhouse. She could hear the rain thundering on to the roof. The smoke was getting thicker, choking her. She tried to get to the door, but he caught her round the waist and dragged her to the floor, crushing her beneath the weight of his body. The harder she struggled to free herself, the louder he laughed. Then he was grinding her cheek into the rough floorboards with one hand and leaning down to open his breeches with the other. The blackened hem of her muslin gown crumbled to ashes in his hands as the flames licked up her legs. If she couldn’t stop him, she would burn to death.

She took as deep a breath as she could, her mouth opening wide.

The sound of her scream, thin and reedy at first, quickly grew to a howl that was loud enough to wake her.

Her heart pounding, she fought free of the blankets that were tangled round her thrashing limbs and rolled from the bed to land on all fours on the floor. Sweat was pouring from her body. Kicking the blankets away, she reached up and grabbed a glass of water from the bedside table, gulping it fast to try to wash the acrid taste of burning flesh from her mouth.

There was no way she was going to lie back down on that bed again tonight. She shook the eiderdown free from the rest of the bedding that littered the floor, wrapped it round her shoulders and padded barefoot from her windowless bedroom. Taking the lighted lantern from her hall table, she went down the stairs to make sure the only door that gave access to her rooms was locked. Then she climbed on to a straight-backed chair and pushed at the latch on the skylight. It was secure. She was safe. Nobody could get in.

Not physically. But her imagination—oh, that was a differ-ent matter.

Lionel had come back, and his return had stirred up all the memories she had fought so long and hard to suppress. She padded into her sitting room and stoked up the fire, then settled into the armchair, knowing from bitter experience there was no point in trying to get any more sleep.

That was why she was so grateful she had these attic rooms. Nobody could hear her up here, when she woke screaming. Nobody could see her obsessively checking and rechecking the locks. Nobody would urge her back to bed, when she knew the only way to get any rest was to doze, propped upright in a corner somewhere with a poker in her hand.

She rubbed her creased forehead with two fingers. Fortunately the house party was breaking up tomorrow. Saying farewells and tidying up would provide plenty of activity. By the time night fell again, she would hopefully have worked herself to a state of exhaustion that would ensure she got at least a few hours of deep, dreamless sleep. Hard work had always proved an effective remedy in the past.

But the quieter the house became, as the guests departed one by one, the more vulnerable Hester felt. By early after-noon her nerves were so jittery, she decided her only recourse was to find some work to do in a room where the presence of at least a couple of other people would give her an illusion of security. She knew her cousins would be in the library, discussing how to while away the rest of the day. So she gathered up the books that various guests had left in their rooms to return them to their proper places.

Lord Lensborough and Mr Farrar were there too, but for once she was glad of their presence. Her cousins would concentrate all their conversational efforts on impressing Lord Lensborough. She would have the advantage of company without needing to dredge up a steady flow of chatter herself.

She was doubly glad of their presence when, not long after arriving in the library, Fisher announced that Lionel Snelgrove had come to pay a call.

Why had he come here so soon after she had refused him? Did he think he could make her change her mind? That he could bully her into submission? Well, he could think again! She would not even speak to him.

Seizing a random selection of volumes, she strode to the farthest corner of the room and began to thrust them into any vacant slot she could find.

After making the appropriate greetings, Lionel turned to Lord Lensborough.

‘I was a little surprised that you did not ride over this morning, my lord. I trust you are well?’

Hester slammed a copy of The Monk into a gap between two improving works penned by Hannah More.

‘I thought it might be more appropriate if we were to make up a party including the ladies next time we ventured out.’

Hester’s ears pricked up at Lord Lensborough’s icily civil tone. Lionel had somehow managed to offend him.

Julia clapped her hands in glee. ‘Oh, yes, I should love that, and so would Phoebe. How clever of you to think of it, my lord.’ From the corner of her eye, Hester could see her batting her eyelashes at him quite shamelessly. ‘Everything always seems so flat after guests leave.’

‘And, Lady Hester, perhaps we can persuade you to leave your household duties for one afternoon and join the party?’ Lord Lensborough said.

‘Yes, do come with us, Hester.’ Julia rose from her chair impulsively and crossed the room to stand beside her. Turning to Lord Lensborough, she added, ‘Lady Hester is a much better rider than either of us, but then she goes out so much more often.’

‘And Lady Hester knows the country even better than I, since I have been so long away.’ Lionel added his weight to Lord Lensborough’s invitation. ‘I am sure she will know of a delightful route we could take, suitable for less experienced riders than us, my lord.’

Lionel had followed like a shadow in Julia’s wake, rendering her tactic of making for the far corner of the library quite useless. Still, she had the table between them, and Julia at her side. Taking a volume from the pile, she cleared her throat, saying, ‘That will not be possible. Strawberry is stabled over at Lady’s Bower. It would take an age to send for her.’

Damn. Lord Lensborough had forgotten that her riding privileges had been withheld because…He frowned—that could not be right. He had assumed that she was being punished for dallying with him, whereas in fact her family were shielding her. Was she so averse to being alone with a gentleman that she would voluntarily have her horse sent to a neighbour’s stables?

Apparently, he thought glumly, since he knew Lady’s Bower was the manor that Snelgrove had pointed out to him, laughing, because it was so inappropriately named. The eccentric Captain Corcoran, the current tenant, would only employ men, particularly ex-seamen like himself.

‘You must all go, though,’ she continued. ‘I would not like to think of his lordship forgoing his daily ride on my account.’

Damn again. The whole purpose of suggesting this expedition was to make Lady Hester a part of it.

‘Oh, come on, Hetty.’

Lord Lensborough bristled at the familiarity with which Snelgrove addressed Lady Hester, at the way he leaned his hands on the table, thrusting his face towards hers. ‘A bruising rider like you? You could manage any of the mounts Sir Thomas has in his stables, or even one of his lordship’s, if you put your mind to it. Borrow a horse, Hetty, and come out with us. It will be just like old times.’

She flinched. Instantly, Lord Lensborough forgot all about his own desire to spend some time in her company, in the more urgent need to protect her from a situation she would clearly find intolerable.

‘Perhaps Lady Hester is a little tired after all the work she has put in over the past weeks for our benefit, and is too polite to say so, Snelgrove.’

Julia put out her hand, taking hold of Hester’s. ‘Now that his lordship mentions it, you do look dreadfully worn, Hester. I am so sorry, I did not notice before. Are you quite well?’

The fleeting look of gratitude Lady Hester flashed him more than made up for Lord Lensborough’s disappointment at her refusal to come out. At last. She had recognised that he was deliberately defending her from Lionel’s unwelcome pursuit.

‘I admit I do not feel up to racketing about on horseback today.’ Hester shamelessly grabbed at the lifeline Lord Lensborough had thrown her. ‘And I have been neglecting Em—that is, Miss Dean,’ she explained to his lordship, the germ of an idea causing a surge of wild excitement to go winging through her, ‘during the past week or so. I may walk across the park to visit with her.’

Lionel shot her a glance loaded with such malevolence that the words died in her throat. It shook her for a moment, until she realised that, with his back to the rest of the occupants of the room, she alone was able to see it.

Lord Lensborough remarked, ‘Let us hope you return refreshed from your visit, my lady. And do you dine with us this evening, now that you are released from your duties towards the nursery party?’

‘I…’She frowned, dragging her gaze from Lionel’s spiteful countenance. Truth to tell, having a tray alone in her room was the last thing she wanted in her present state of mind. And she no longer felt the need to avoid the marquis. He could be pleasant enough when it occurred to him to bother. She had already come to the conclusion that once he’d made up his mind which of her cousins should have the honour of taking his name, he might even make a fairly kind sort of husband, in an offhand way. He would want the mother of his children to be content in her role, and though she could not imagine him doing anything as vulgar as actually developing a tendre for his wife—Abruptly she brought her woolgathering to a halt, and, with flushed cheeks, murmured, ‘Yes, my lord, I will.’

She missed the exultant gleam her response brought to his eyes as she hurried from the room. All she could think of was escaping Lionel. If he was here at The Holme, she would be safe to go and fetch Em from the vicarage. Not that she had any intention of staying there, and risking being there when he returned.

Because Lionel had more or less told her where he was going to ride—he planned to revisit their childhood haunts. The tarn where she and Gerard used to swim would offer Julia and Phoebe a gentle enough ride, or perhaps along the course of the beck where they had fished, or through the park to the copse where there were trees they used to climb. In any event, all those destinations lay in the opposite direction from the gypsy camp on The Lady’s Acres.

In no time at all, she was ensconced in Jye’s caravan, a mug of hot sweet tea in her hand, her beloved little girl sitting at her feet with her head resting on her knee. Once she had drunk the tea, and the half-dozen or so children who were squashed together on the caravan floor had devoured the macaroons Hester had purloined from the kitchens on her way out, she opened her satchel, and distributed sheets of coloured paper and crayons.

In spite of the fact that the children only had instruction from her, just once a year during the time when they camped in The Lady’s Acres, at least a couple of the boys had clearly been putting the intervening months to good use.

‘Any advantage we can get over Gorgi,’ one of them cheekily remarked, knowing full well that Lady Hester had not a drop of Romany blood in her veins, and so qualified as Gorgi herself, ‘is worth a bit of effort. If we can read their writing, when they still can’t know our signs and ways, well, we got the edge over ’em, don’t we?’

She was on the point of gathering up the primers and rounding off the session, when Jye, who never stayed within hearing when she was playing the part of school ma’am, came clattering up the steps and put his head through the top half of the door.

‘Gorgi,’ he panted. ‘Men. A bunch of them on horseback. Could be trouble, Lady Hetty.’

Their eyes met. Trouble not just for the gypsies, who were prey to all sorts of oppression by suspicious locals, but for her too, if she was found here. She drew herself up, ‘I’ll come at once, Jye,’ she assured him. ‘They won’t attempt anything while I am here.’

‘I’ll finish off in here.’ Em began to gather up the primers and crayons that were scattered about the floor. Hitching Lena on to her hip, Hester nodded to show she understood Em’s reluctance to show her face. Though people fully expected the vicar’s daughter to visit the poor of the parish, most would also feel she ought not to be encouraging a band of rogues and vagabonds to linger in the parish either.

Just as Hester began to clamber down the steps of the caravan, the party on horseback broke through the trees at the perimeter of the tan.

Her breath froze in her lungs as she saw Lord Lensborough, Mr Farrar, Julia…

They were all staring at her in as much stupefaction as she felt herself.

‘Hester,’ Julia squealed. ‘Whatever are you doing here?’

As Hester stiffened in horror, Lena reacted to the threat these strangers represented by winding her arms more tightly about Hester’s neck. What was she to say? Her uncle had made her promise that his daughters would never find out about her relationship to the gypsy clan. And now, seeing the expression of utter disgust on Lord Lensborough’s face, she could understand why. Tonnish people did not mingle with the offscourings of society, nor did they permit their womenfolk to do so. In his eyes she had overstepped the boundaries of propriety so far she could never find a way back.

She wondered briefly why she felt so crushingly disappointed by his reaction.

‘I could ask you the same question,’ she replied defiantly, giving Lena a reassuring kiss on the cheek so that she would know the anger was not directed at her. When Hester set her down on the ground, Lena grabbed hold of her skirts, clinging to her side, though she kept her eyes trained warily on the intruders. While the other menfolk about the tan slowly began to shift into defensive positions, Jye climbed down from the steps of his own caravan, coming to stand next to Hester, with Lena between them.

‘Friends of yours, Lady Hetty?’ he asked in a voice that was meant to carry across the frosty air of the clearing, as he stooped to gather Lena’s free hand into his own.

‘Yes, Jye, but I didn’t invite them.’ Her eyes came to rest on the malicious smirk on Lionel’s face. Of course. He had known she would come straight here given the chance. He had dropped veiled hints from the first that he could make trouble if she did not play along with him. She had resisted him. So now she would pay.

‘Those ladies are my cousins,’ she explained to Jye and Lena. ‘Miss Julia Gregory, and Miss Phoebe Gregory. The gentlemen, Lord Jasper Challinor, Marquis of Lensborough, on the bay gelding, and his friend Mr Stephen Farrar are guests at The Holme. I am sure they mean you no harm.’

‘You have left Mr Snelgrove out,’Julia cried. ‘It was he who brought us here. He said he had a surprise for us, but I never expected it would be anything like this. This is the surprise, Mr Snelgrove?’she half-turned in her saddle to ask him. ‘This quaint little gypsy camp?’

Hester did not bother to wait for his reply. Lena had been tugging at her skirts to get her attention, and as she bent, the little girl whispered, ‘Is that the marquis you told us about? The one wot knocked you into a ditch and left you standing there in the road all muddy?’

‘Yes, dear,’ Hester confessed, ashamed now that she had spoken so heatedly about him that day, less than a week ago. But she had still been angry with him, and she had needed to explain to Jye, and the other gypsy elders, why she had come to them empty-handed. She couldn’t have borne it if they had refused her access to Lena.

‘But he didn’t mean to do it, you know. You don’t need to be afraid of him.’

‘I ain’t afraid,’ Lena declared, glowering at the offending horseman. Lady Hetty held one of her hands, and Jye the other, and she had complete confidence that these two could shield her from the wickedest of marquises.

One of the women sashayed across to where the girls sat their docile mounts, and held her hand out, palm upward.

‘Tell your fortunes, pretty ladies?’ she wheedled.

‘Oh, how thrilling,’ Julia trilled. ‘That is why you brought us down here, isn’t it, Mr Snelgrove? To have our palms read by a genuine gypsy fortune teller. How clever of you to think of such a diversion when we confessed how dull we all felt today.’

Phoebe cleared her throat nervously. ‘Do you think we ought, Julia? I am not quite sure Papa would like it. Lord Lensborough, what do you think?’

Lord Lensborough could not repeat out loud what he was thinking while Julia and Phoebe, in their innocence, could hear. There stood the woman he had thought he would marry, holding the hand of a little girl with a riot of dull copper curls that exactly matched hers, a sharp little nose spattered with freckles just like hers, while the expression of wary defiance matched that of the sullen, dirty gypsy who held her other hand. His lips curled into a derisive sneer. What a charming family tableau.

This resolved so many of the mysteries surrounding her behaviour. The guilt he had read on her face when he had encountered her in the stable yard, her resentment at his suggestion he ride with her and those flowers she had about her hat, that he had thought so girlishly whimsical—why, they were nothing more than a fanciful token from a penniless lover to his high-born mistress.

That was why her uncle had her horse removed and stabled with a neighbour, to prevent her from succumbing to the temptation of sneaking down here to meet with her gypsy lover and her illegitimate child.

‘I think,’ he finally managed to growl through clenched teeth, ‘that you should do just as you wish.’

How would the deceitful hussy brazen her way out of this situation? Did she think she could look to him for aid now? Let her think again!

‘Then I am going to have my fortune told,’ Julia declared. ‘After all, Hester is already here, so I am sure Papa can have no objection. Why should we not go where she does?’

Jye turned to Hester and gave her a look that his lordship could only interpret as a reaction to their guilty affair having been found out. And Hester’s face, as she gazed back at him, was deathly pale.

For all she cared, he might as well not be there—all her attention was on this other man, this dirty ruffian. This…this nobody!

He became dimly aware, through the darkness that seemed to be swirling round him, blotting out everything but the sight of the two guilty lovers, that Snelgrove was leaning over to take hold of Julia’s reins so that the silly chit could dismount.

‘Come close to the fire, then, pretty lady,’ the gypsy woman said, ‘and I will see what is writ in your hand.’

Julia giggled. ‘Oh, this is so exciting. I had no idea you got up to such larks under the pretext of visiting Em. Have you had your fortune told already?’

‘No.’ Hester darted forward. ‘Nor do I ever wish to.’

‘Why not?’ Julia’s brow wrinkled with perplexity.

‘If something good is going to happen to me, I would rather it came as a lovely surprise. And if something bad is to befall me, I would not want to live in permanent dread of its advent.’

Emily chose this moment to emerge from Jye’s caravan with the remnants of their ragged pupils and hurry to Hester’s side.

‘I must side with Lady Hester on this matter, Julia,’ she said sharply. ‘It would be the height of folly to do such a thing without your father’s permission. Does he even know you are here?’

‘Well, of course not. We did not even know there were gypsies camping on The Lady’s Acres until Mr Snelgrove brought us, so how could we have told him?’

‘I thought as much.’ Emily rounded on Mr Snelgrove. ‘Why must you always be so intent on stirring up mischief, Lionel? Don’t pretend you don’t know how Sir Thomas would feel if he were to learn you had brought his girls down here, never mind encouraging them to have their fortunes told.’

‘There is absolutely no need for him to know,’ Lionel retorted. ‘We can guard Hester’s little secret as well as you.’

Jye clenched his fists and took an involuntary step towards the sneering horseman. Swiftly, Hester reached out and grabbed at his arm. ‘Don’t, Jye,’ she cried. ‘You will only make it worse.’

Flinging herself in front of him, she rounded on Lionel. ‘You are very much mistaken if you think I have any secrets from Uncle Thomas. The first thing I shall do when I return home is to tell him exactly what has happened here today. And what passed between us last night.’

Lionel’s sneer turned to a furious scowl.

‘And if you—’ she whirled to face Julia ‘—have your fortune told I will tell him that also.’

‘There is nothing more despicable than a tale bearer,’ Lionel sneered.

‘N…no…’ Julia said, ‘Hester is right.’ Sadly she took one last look at the gypsy woman, before admitting, ‘I knew all along it was not quite the thing, and I know what Papa would say if Hester had to tell him.’ She added generously, ‘I quite see why she would feel she had to. Thank you, Hester.’

As Julia went back to her horse, the gypsy woman strode towards Hester, and with a ferocious glare, spat contemptuously on the ground at her feet.

‘Here.’ Stephen Farrar urged his mount forward a little, and tossed a handful of coins to the woman. ‘This should make up for losing the wages of your craft.’

‘Well, God bless you, sir.’The woman was all smiles again. ‘I would wish you luck, but you don’t need it. You have the desire of your heart within your grasp.’ Seeing his puzzled expression, she cackled, ‘At least, all you have to do is reach out, and you could touch it.’

Hester saw a tremor run through his entire frame just before he wheeled his horse towards the edge of the clearing, saying, ‘It’s frightfully cold out here, Lensborough. Don’t you think we ought to be getting the ladies home?’

‘Oh, yes, please,’ Julia said. ‘I should very much like to go home now.’

Silently, Lord Lensborough swung himself down, and with his reins looped over his arm, he bent and cupped his hands to help her remount.

‘You should be getting back now, too, Hester.’ Emily shook her shoulder gently. ‘You look quite white with the cold.’

‘If you wish to escort Miss Dean home, Snelgrove,’ Lord Lensborough said, ‘I will lead Nero back to the stables. She should not have to walk back alone.’

It was a dismissal, and though Snelgrove might have resented his lordship’s tone, there was nothing he could do but dismount from his borrowed horse, and surrender the reins. Taking Emily by the arm, he bowed to the entire company, and, casting Hester one last triumphant look, set off across the fields.

‘Time to leave, madam.’

Hester ignored Lord Lensborough’s peremptory command. Dashing a tear from her cheek with the back of her hand, she knelt in the grass and enveloped Lena in a fierce hug. Lord Lensborough turned away abruptly, muttering under his breath.

‘Will you be coming back soon, Lady Hetty?’ the child asked, twisting out of her embrace. ‘I do like them biscuits.’

Over the top of her head, Hester caught Jye’s attention. ‘If I can…’ she cast her eyes meaningfully towards her cousins as Mr Farrar led them away ‘…of course I will.’

Jye nodded once in acknowledgment of her unspoken message.

‘I’ll take good care of her for you, Lady Hetty,’ he promised gruffly.

‘I know.’ She got to her feet, brushing dried bracken and wood ash from her skirt. ‘You always have. And you will send me word, won’t you, if ever you’re in trouble?’

Jye nodded, swinging Lena up on to his broad shoulders, while Hester turned hastily away. She could no longer check the tears that began to roll silently down her cheeks, and, not wanting Lena to see them, she swiftly made for the track that would lead her home, pushing blindly past Lord Lensborough, who stood almost directly in her path.

She had not got far into the copse before she felt a hand tap her roughly on her shoulder.

‘Here,’ he said curtly, ‘take this handkerchief and blow your nose.’

‘Thank you,’ she replied mechanically, taking it. ‘You are very angry with me again, aren’t you?’

‘Are you surprised?’

‘Yes.’ She blew her nose. ‘Uncle Thomas warned me what to expect, but I had begun to think that you—’

The ferocity with which he uttered a few choice expletives set Hester back to the moment they had first met. This was the real Lord Lensborough: black hearted and black tempered. She had only imagined he was kind and decent.

A feeling of dread washed over her. Might he be so outraged by her impropriety that he would change his mind about marrying one of her cousins? Might they be tainted in his eyes by their very association with her?

‘You won’t suspend your courtship of my cousins because of this, will you? Neither they, nor my aunt, knew anything about my visits to the tan.’

‘Am I to infer from that remark that your uncle did?’

When she nodded, he said, ‘By God, this beggars belief.’ Hester reeled. ‘How can you be so intolerant?’

‘Intolerant? Who could tolerate being so deceived?’

‘We did not set out to deceive you…particularly. My uncle just did not want anyone to know. Especially not my cousins, or my aunt. He said it would distress them.’

Lord Lensborough made an odd choking noise.

‘So you see, they are entirely innocent. You do believe me, don’t you?’

‘Oh, yes. Unlike you, your cousins are exactly what they appear to be. A blank slate upon which I may write whatever I wish.’

Hester saw red. ‘How just like you to say such a horrid thing. Julia and Phoebe are people with feelings, not blank slates for you to write on.’ She clenched her fists. ‘And for your information, I don’t care how improper you think it is for me to mingle with the raff and scaff of society. I love Lena, and I will never be ashamed of her. If that offends your notion of propriety, then I’m glad. Why would I want an unfeeling, heartless block like you to approve of me?’

He flinched, as though she had struck him. ‘We should not keep the horses standing in the cold,’ he said, and turned down the track.

He was aware of Hester thrashing through the undergrowth behind him, but he couldn’t bear to turn and look at her, not even when he heard a tell-tale sniffle.

How could her uncle permit her access to a lover while she lived under his roof? Or introduce her to his guests as if she were respectable? Did he not care so long as she kept her activities secret from the more innocent females in the family?

All that talk of shyness. He had known from the first it was all humbug. It was guilt that made her awkward around single men. She knew she could never marry a decent man, or encourage one to hope. That was why Sir Thomas had warned him off.

But then why, if he did not want all this to come out, did he not keep her out of sight altogether?

His pace picked up as his mind whirled. The family probably did not have the means to pack her off to some estate deep in the country and forget her. And if her uncle tried to separate her from his other womenfolk, within his house, they would start to ask awkward questions.

So why did she not simply live with her gypsy lover?

That sort of scandal was bound to get out, and his own daughters would be ruined by association.

On the whole, Sir Thomas had followed the only course he could. Ejected the bastard child, and sworn Hester to secrecy to protect the good name of his own daughters.

Though he could never like Lionel Snelgrove, he supposed he had to be grateful that he had forced Hester’s secret into the open. It had saved him from committing the ghastly blunder of proposing to a woman who had given birth to a bastard sired by a filthy gypsy. He didn’t think he would ever have been able to live that down.