Читать книгу Married: The Virgin Widow - Deborah Hale, Deborah Hale - Страница 10

Two days after Ford’s arrival, Laura found her mother holding court from her bed. Ford and the girls sat on either side while a vigilant Mr Pryce hovered nearby.

Feeling like an intruder, she was about to slip away when Ford suddenly glanced her way. She could not allow him to think he had the power to frighten her off.

“Are you hosting a party, Mama?” She affected a cheerful tone as she entered the room. “I hope too much company will not tire you.”

“Quite the contrary, dearest.” Her mother’s voice sounded stronger. “I have not felt so well in months. Come and sit with the others. Ford was telling us the most amusing story about the time a pack of monkeys got into his baggage.”

As Laura approached, Ford rose from his chair. A fast-fading smile still lit his dark features and once again she caught a glimpse of the man she’d loved. Even as a gentle ache swelled in her heart, the moment passed and he became a stranger once again. An attractive, compelling stranger, but still a dangerous enigma.

She wished she could keep a safe distance from him, the way she did at mealtimes with the long table and her chattering sisters between them. But there was only one chair left—the empty one beside his.

Warily, she sank on to it. “The poor man may soon long to sail back to the Indies to escape these constant demands for stories of his adventures.”

As Ford resumed his seat beside her, his nearness overwhelmed her senses. The dark arch of his brows and the jutting crests of his cheekbones lured her gaze. Her skin prickled whenever he made the slightest movement, anticipating an accidental nudge of his knee. Every time she inhaled, the faint, spicy tang of his scent tickled her nose. Her ears strained to drink in his low, husky voice.

“Never fear,” he replied, a hint of frost cooling his tone, “I would far rather talk about the Indies than return there any time soon.”

“No indeed.” Laura’s mother regarded Ford with a doting smile. “You have been gone far too long. We couldn’t bear to part with you again now that we’ve got you back.”

The butler cleared his throat. “Since all the family is gathered here, Mrs Penrose, shall I fetch tea?”

“An excellent suggestion! The tea Ford brought has such a delightful flavor. I feel quite invigorated when I drink it. And I caught a whiff of gingerbread when Laura opened the door. Could you bring us some of that, too?”

“Delighted, ma’am.” Mr Pryce beamed with pleasure. Just that morning, Laura has overheard him whistling while he polished the silver.

No doubt the poor man was happy to have a proper staff working under him again. One of Ford’s first tasks as master of Hawkesbourne had been to authorise the hiring of several new maids, footmen, gardeners and stable hands.

“Ford,” said Belinda, “Cook is in raptures over the sugar, tea and spices you brought from the Indies.”

Susannah nodded. “And I am in raptures over the bolts of silk and cotton. Did you mean it when you said we could have some to make up new gowns for the summer?”

“Of course I meant it.” Though Ford kept his attention focused on her sisters, Laura sensed his words were aimed at her. “I have never been one to make promises I do not intend to keep.”

Like her promise to wed him? She bristled at the thought. If he had not wanted her to break their engagement, why had he not lifted a finger to stop her?

“Besides,” he continued in a lighter tone, “I don’t believe peacock-blue silk or sprigged organdy would look at all flattering on me.”

They all laughed at that, including Laura, though it gave her heart a wrench because he sounded so much like the Ford she remembered.

Mama’s pale blue eyes sparkled with curiosity. “Tell us more about this new British trading post. Sing-a-song?”

“Singa-pore, ma’am. I must say I preferred it to India. Not nearly so hot, though often quite sultry during the monsoons. The settlement is still rather primitive at the moment. Everyone is too busy establishing their businesses and making money to worry about amenities. Besides, it is likely the Dutch will find a way to get rid of Singapore. It poses a threat to their control of the lucrative China and South Seas trade.”

“It sounds like an exciting sort of place,” said Laura’s mother.

Ford nodded. “It is a crossroad of the world with so many races and cultures all mixed together—English, Spanish, French, Chinese, Indian, Arab, Malay. I have learned to curse fluently in a dozen different languages.”

Laura fought to contain her amusement. She had survived the heartbreak of losing her first love, the shock of her father’s death and the ordeal of her marriage by encasing her heart in a protective sheath of ice. Ford’s coldness only hardened her defences. But the warmth of his wit and kindness toward her family threatened to chip a web of tiny but perilous cracks in her frozen ramparts, making them prone to shatter.

A few minutes later Mr Pryce returned, bearing a tray laden with tea things and a plate piled high with spicy-sweet nuggets of gingerbread. While Susannah and Belinda tucked into those with exuberant relish, Laura took a guarded sip of her tea. Pleasant as these small luxuries were after months of frugal living, they came at too high a price to suit her.

Despite Ford’s assurance that her family was welcome to visit at Hawkesbourne, she knew he must want her gone as soon as possible. Every time they’d spoken in the past two days, she had braced for him to raise the subject. With any other gentleman, she’d have been confident he would never turn out an ailing widow and her penniless daughters. But Ford had boasted of his ruthlessness and she knew from bitter experience that he was not a man to let other people’s problems stand in the way of his plans.

When the others had finished eating, Laura rose from her seat. “Enjoyable as this has been, we must not tire Mama.”

“No indeed.” Ford shot to his feet so quickly his arm brushed against hers, sending bewildering sensations rippling through her. “I have an appointment with Repton to look over the accounts and review his running of the estate in my absence.”

His sharp tone and piercing look made Laura wonder what this meeting with his man of business had to do with her.

“Pray excuse me, ladies.” After a stiff bow, he stalked away, leaving Laura feeling as if the breath had been knocked out of her.

As he marched toward the office of Hawkes-bourne’s estate manager, the devilish hot ache in Ford’s loins began to ease. The slightest accidental brush against Laura was all it had taken to set him on fire. Of course that had only struck a spark to the fuel, which had accumulated splinter by combustible splinter as he sat beside her. Hard as he’d tried to ignore her by focusing all his attention on her mother and sisters, he had failed.

The mellow lilt of her laughter had made him long to drink it from her lips like sweet wine. The sidelong glimpse of her dainty hands had made him yearn to feel her fingers running through his hair. But why?

Much as he’d loved Laura Penrose seven years ago, he had not burned for her with such fierce intensity. Was it the time he had spent trying to forget her? Had the blaze of his outrage kindled this unruly passion? Or was it some streak of perversity that made him crave her because she had spurned him?

He had no time to ponder such riddles now, Ford reminded himself. There were more practical questions to be answered first.

“Tell me straight, Repton.” He dropped into a chair across the desk from the estate manager. “How bad is it?”

If the condition of the Hall was any indication, Hawkesbourne must be deep in debt. Ford recalled Laura’s mention of economic hardship after the war.

Repton’s brow furrowed at the question. He was a slight, balding man with ink stains on his thumb and forefinger. “I beg your pardon, my lord? How bad is what?”

“The debts, of course,” snapped Ford. “How much do we owe and to whom? You needn’t be afraid to tell me. I have the resources and the energy to set things right.”

“I’m sure you do, sir.” Repton pushed a large ledger book across the desk. “But I don’t know where you got the idea that the estate is in debt. You can see for yourself—though there are improvements needed, Hawkesbourne is quite solvent.”

Ford scanned the neat columns of figures. Seven years ago, he would not have been able to decipher them. Now he had no trouble. Rents minus expenses yielded a modest profit.

“Then why was so much of the house shut up?” he demanded. “And most of the servants gone? The larder nearly bare?”

Repton closed the ledger. “I told her ladyship the house was part of the estate and should be maintained in a suitable manner at the expense of the estate.”

Ford nodded. “You were quite right.”

“Thank you, my lord.” A look of relief lightened Repton’s stubby features. “Her ladyship did not agree. She refused to have any money spent on the house apart from a few urgent repairs, the coal bill and salaries for the cook and butler. Without your authority, I could not go against her wishes.”

Ford mulled over this information, not certain what to make of it. In a similar situation, his stepmother would not have hesitated to maintain herself in luxury at someone else’s expense. “Did her ladyship offer any reason for all this?”

Repton shrugged as if the explanations of women made no sense to him. “She said it was enough that her family should live under your roof without your permission. She did not wish to be any deeper in your debt.”

Ford fancied he could hear Laura speaking those words in a haughty tone that grated on his pride. Had she assumed he would fail in the Indies and not be able to afford the expense of maintaining her family? Did she think he would be too mean to extend them decent hospitality? Or did she have some other motive for playing the poor but proud widow?

“I am surprised my cousin did not leave her better provided for.” Leaning back in his chair, Ford strove to make the comment sound casual. “I thought he had a fair fortune of his own.”

Repton grimaced. “A man can go through a deal of money if he isn’t careful.”

“Cousin Cyrus always preached frugality to me.” The old fellow had kept him on a tight allowance. If Ford hadn’t borrowed against his expectations, he never would have been able to live the way a gentleman was expected to. “But I suppose keeping a young wife and all her relations can be quite an expense.”

“Lord Kingsfold made her ladyship a very generous settlement at the time of their marriage,” said Repton. “I believe she provided for her family out of her own allowance. At least, I never received any bills for their support.”

“That’s right, you administered my cousin’s personal accounts as well as the estate’s.” Ford pretended he had just recalled the fact.

“I hope you don’t think I failed in my duty.” Repton sounded defensive. “Or abused your cousin’s trust in any way.”

“Nothing like that, I assure—”

“Because you would be welcome to review the accounts,” Repton rattled on. “Everything is perfectly in order.”

The offer was too tempting for Ford to refuse, though not because he suspected Repton of any underhand dealings.

“I’m certain it is,” he agreed in a reassuring tone. “But if it would ease your mind for me to see the figures, I am willing to take a look.”

“I would consider it a service, my lord.” Turning to a shelf behind his desk, Repton drew out another ledger. “Perhaps you could assure her ladyship everything is perfectly above board. I tried to go over the accounts with her after his lordship died, but she found it very distressing to see how little money was left.”

Rather than passing the ledger across the desk, Repton brought it around to Ford, opening it to a page dated 1815. He pointed to a very large disbursement. “There is the sum he gave her ladyship upon their marriage.”

Three thousand pounds? Ford’s eyes widened. “Have you any idea what she did with the money?”

“She did not entrust the handling of it to me, my lord.” Repton’s tone bespoke offence over Laura’s decision. “Perhaps she has her own man of business in London, though to my knowledge he has never called at Hawkesbourne.”

What had become of that money? Ford wondered. Surely Laura would not be living in such straitened circumstances if she had an amount like that at her disposal.

“As you can see, my lord, all was well then.” Repton turned the page. “By the next year, however, expenses had begun to exceed income. Your cousin was obliged to dip into his capital to make up the shortfall.”

Ford did not need to be told what a dangerous downward spiral that created.

“I urged economy and retrenchment.” With a sigh Repton turned to the accounts for Cyrus’s final year. “My warnings fell on deaf ears.”

His cousin’s fortune was gone. Ford no longer doubted it. The evidence was there in black and white. But that evidence raised more questions than it answered.

“You have been most helpful.” Ford rose abruptly and shook the man’s hand. “I am relieved to discover the estate is not in debt. I shall return tomorrow to discuss what improvements are needed.”

Repton tucked the ledger under his arm. “I should be happy to discuss them now if you wish, my lord.”

Ford shook his head. He needed some time to collect his thoughts. “Other matters require my attention just now, if you will excuse me.”

He took his leave in haste, heading back to the house through the neglected gardens that had once been his grandmother’s pride. Now several newly hired gardeners were busy digging and pruning. Ford paid them scant heed as he trod the overgrown paths, lost in thought.

It seemed Laura had told the truth when she’d claimed her inheritance was a paltry one. What she had failed to mention was the handsome settlement Cyrus had made her before her marriage. Had she squandered that, too? Or had she squirrelled it away somewhere while she played at poverty for some devious reason he could not fathom?

Rounding a boxwood hedge near the east wing of the house, Ford came to a sudden halt. Ahead, he spotted Laura talking to a slender young man with ginger hair. She was smiling at the young fool in a way Ford had not seen her smile since he’d returned to Hawkesbourne.

His heart began to hammer against his ribs as if trying to batter its way out of his chest. A bubbling cauldron of acid seethed in his belly. Could this be the reason Laura had remained at Hawkesbourne feigning penury? So she could stay close to her next conquest, engaging his sympathy and assistance on her way to winning his heart?

Ford wondered if that was the reason for her thinly disguised hostility toward him. Perhaps Laura feared he would spoil her plans to secure a new husband.

She would soon discover he had plans of his own for her remarriage.

Did Sidney Crawford suspect her plans for him? Laura wondered as she kept their handsome young neighbour engaged in conversation, hoping Belinda might happen by.

“We so enjoyed the fish you brought the other day. Mama ate with a better appetite than she has all winter. Then when Lord Kingsfold arrived so unexpectedly, we were able to offer him a much better dinner than we could have otherwise. So I must thank you once again for your kindness.”

She treated him to a fond smile. Mr Crawford was one of the only neighbours who had shown her family any kindness. He was also one of the few men around whom she felt somewhat at ease.

Her praise brought a blush to the young man’s fair features. “I am always delighted to be of service to your family. I hope the fish agreed with…your sisters.”

His hazel eyes shimmered with particular interest. How could Belinda persist in ignoring Mr Crawford’s shy fancy for her?

“Very much so. Belinda praised its flavour to the skies and said how fortunate we are to have so thoughtful a friend in you.” It was not an outright falsehood, just a touch of well-meant exaggeration to reward his generosity.

“D-did she?” The poor fellow’s face grew redder. “I hope she…er…you…that is…your family will always think of me as a friend. I would do anything in my power to assist…all of you!”

Where were the girls? It was a lovely afternoon for a stroll before dinner, especially since Ford had engaged the new servants, leaving her and her sisters more time for leisure. The sound of approaching footsteps made Laura turn with an expectant smile.

It froze on her lips when she spied Ford striding toward them, his stern visage dark as a thundercloud. The brooding power of his approach sent a chill of fear quivering through her, but she held her ground as she scrambled to rally her composure.

“Ford,” she cried as if he were the person she most wanted to see, instead of precisely the opposite, “come and meet our kind neighbour I told you about. Mr Sidney Crawford, may I present Ford Barrett, the new Lord Kingsfold.”

“Crawford.” Ford thrust out his hand with the swift force of a combatant about to inflict a blow. “I must congratulate you on your fishing skill. I should try my hand at angling again. It cultivates patience and vigilant restraint—qualities a man needs to achieve his aims in life.”

“It is an honor to meet you, my lord.” Poor Mr Crawford winced at Ford’s powerful grip. “If you would care to indulge in a day’s fishing, I’d welcome the company. Lord Bramber sometimes hunts with me in the autumn, but angling is rather too leisurely a pursuit for his temperament.”

Mr Crawford’s tactful assessment of the impetuous Lord Bramber coaxed back a remnant of the smile Ford’s arrival had dashed from Laura’s face. The young marquis and his two sisters lived at nearby Bramberley, an estate much older and grander than Hawkesbourne, but even more neglected.

Ford drew back his hand. “I will let you know if I find myself with time on my hands. Between making improvements to the estate and setting up a London office for my trading company, I expect to be much occupied. Now, if you will excuse us, I have an important matter to discuss with her ladyship.”

Important matter? Laura did not like the sound of that any more than she liked Ford’s curt dismissal of Sidney Crawford. What if he should feel unwelcome at Hawkesbourne, and stop dropping by? Any possibility of a romance between him and Belinda would wither on the vine. Laura had been willing to let love take its course, but now, with the threat that Ford might evict them from Hawkesbourne, she needed to hurry matters along.

“Of course, my lord.” Mr Crawford looked torn between his unease with Ford and disappointment at leaving without a glimpse of Belinda. His candid features were as easy to read as Ford’s were inscrutable. “I should be on my way.”

He bowed to Laura. “My lady. Pray give my regards to your mother and sisters. Tell Miss Belinda I am most gratified to hear she enjoyed the trout.”

“Indeed I shall. I am sorry you did not have the opportunity to tell her so yourself.” Laura fixed her lips in the brittle imitation of a smile as she waved Sidney Crawford on his way.

As soon as he was safely out of sight, she rounded on Ford. “Are you always so rude to people who deserve your gratitude? I remembered you being more polite. Or perhaps I deceived myself.”

Ford shrugged. “Memories can be deceptive. I seem to recall your character rather different than I find it now. As for your precious Mr Crawford, I was perfectly civil to the man.”

Laura sensed an insult in his remark about her character. “If that was civility, heaven spare me your insolence!”

One corner of Ford’s mouth arched ever so slightly, halfway between a gloating grin and contemptuous sneer. “Be assured, my dear, if I mean to offend, you will know it.”

His frosty tone told Laura she was anything but dear to him. Had she ever been? Or were her misty memories of their courtship only the delusions of a foolish girl? If by finding her different, Ford meant that she was more guarded, no longer given to blind trust or reckless affection, then she would consider it a compliment.

“What is this important matter you wished to discuss with me? Or was that only an excuse to chase Mr Crawford away?”

Ford gave a hoarse, mocking chuckle. “What devious motives you credit me with. I certainly do have a matter of importance to discuss with you.” He offered her his arm with exaggerated formality. “Shall we wander the bluebell path as we talk? The flowers should be in bloom now.”

Was he being deliberately cruel? Laura wondered, though she took his arm without voicing any objection. Or had she meant so little to him that he could forget he’d once proposed to her in the bluebell wood?

Even with all the layers of garments between her hand and Ford’s arm, Laura could not ignore her disturbing awareness of his hard, unyielding muscle as they walked.

“Well?” she prompted him, eager to distract herself from the perverse rush of heat that swept up her arm to kindle an unwelcome fever in her body.

“Yes…well…” By the sound of it, Ford’s mind had been elsewhere too. “Now that I have been back for a few days and taken measure of the situation, I believe the time has come to discuss your family’s continued residence at Hawkesbourne.”

So he did mean to turn them out! Though that dread had haunted her since long before his return, Ford’s abrupt mention of it staggered Laura. Her knees went weak, obliging her to cling tighter to his arm when she would rather have pushed him away with all her strength.

By now they had entered a coppice of beech trees, green with the bright foliage of spring. Rays of golden sunlight pierced the canopy of leaves to shimmer upon a breathtaking carpet of bluebells below. Neither the beauty of her surroundings nor the sweet woodsy perfume of the wildflowers had sufficient power to ease Laura’s desperation.

After all it had cost her to secure a home for her family, she could not let Ford snatch it away from them. But what could she possibly do to prevent him?