Читать книгу Historical Romance – The Best Of The Year - Кэрол Мортимер, Кэрол Мортимер - Страница 39

Chapter Twelve

Gideon was restless. In previous summers he had enjoyed making his way from one house party to another, but this year nothing pleased him. Even in Brighton with Gwen and Anthony his mind constantly wandered to Rotham.

He corresponded regularly with Nicky, but was a little disappointed that she did not appear to be missing him. At the end of August he made his excuses to leave Brighton and went to Chalcots. He had visited the house only once since he had inherited it—after all, the Brook Street house was much more convenient for when he was in town, but now he realised that this pretty little villa would make an ideal family home and he began to draw up plans for its refurbishment.

September slipped by as he threw himself into the work at Chalcots, exchanging letters with Nicky on colour schemes and plans for the gardens. With all the work he had put in hand the house was quite uninhabitable and he resided at Brook Street, but did not even consider going to the clubs, theatres and gambling dens that he had frequented as a bachelor. He spent his evenings writing to Nicky, or reading her letters.

He was sitting in his study, the cheerful fire there driving off the first chill of autumn, when he realised with a shock how much he missed her and, instead of picking up his pen, he gathered up all the drawings and swatches into a pile. He would take them to Rotham and discuss them with her in person. Tomorrow.

* * *

Once the decision had been made he was eager to get away and, after making sure that the builders and decorators knew exactly what was expected of them, he set off, arriving late in the afternoon, tired and dusty, to find the house in uproar. Servants scurried about, too absorbed to notice him. Intrigued, he left his horse in the stables and quickly ran into the house, but arriving in the great hall he stopped and stared in amazement at the scene of feverish activity. The gardener’s boy was carrying in armfuls of plants and flowers while the maids were busy covering trestle tables with snowy cloths. And in the midst of it all, issuing directions, was Nicky. Her condition was very evident, but there was a bloom about her that he had not seen before. She looked...radiant.

At that moment she saw him and, after a quiet word to the housekeeper, she came towards him, hands held out. His heart lifted at the sight of her welcoming smile. He took her hands, pressing a kiss on to each in turn.

‘What is this, madam?’ he demanded with mock severity. ‘I am away for a few weeks and return to find Rotham in chaos!’

She laughed.

‘We are holding a harvest supper tonight. I am so glad you are here, you will be able to join us.’

‘We have not celebrated the harvest here since Mama died.’

Long-buried memories returned as he watched the preparations and heard the snatches of song and laughter coming from the servants as they worked. That, too, was something he had not heard for many years.

He brought his gaze back to her face and grinned. ‘How did you cajole my father into this?’

‘I was reading Robinson Crusoe to him—’

‘Wait!’ He put up his hand. ‘You were reading to Father?’

‘Why, yes. It would be very monotonous if I could only entertain him with my music, so we play at backgammon or cards, and when the tea tray is brought in I read to him. I bought a number of my favourite works to bring with me. Lord Rotham enjoyed The History of Sir Charles Grandison, and Sterne’s Tristram Shandy although I have not suggested I should read him Mrs Radcliffe’s The Mysteries of Udolpho...’

‘No, don’t,’ said Gideon, his mind reeling at this new vision of his father. ‘I beg your pardon, I interrupted you.’ He waved his hand towards the hall. ‘You were telling me how all this came about.’

‘Well, Defoe mentions sowing seeds and I merely suggested that he might like to hold a harvest supper.’

‘And where is my father now?’

‘In his study, keeping out of the way.’ She tried to look serious and failed, going off into a peal of laughter.

Gideon found himself laughing, too, but he sobered quickly.

‘I am surprised Father allows you to do so much. He was more anxious than I that you should not overtax yourself.’

‘I am not overtaxing myself, Gideon. Your father and I agreed that I am the best person to know just what I can do.’ He was not convinced, but she merely shook her head at him, her green eyes full of warm amusement. ‘Pray do not be anxious for me, sir. My role here is merely to oversee matters. To prove it, I shall leave the rest to Mrs Ellis and take you away for some refreshment.’

As she led him upstairs to the drawing room, he noticed that the house no longer had a sad air of neglect. Fresh flowers adorned side tables, brass wall sconces gleamed and the grand staircase smelled of beeswax and lavender. The drawing room, too, was much more comfortable. Furniture had been moved into a less formal arrangement, curtains were thrown wide and the hard wooden chairs were covered in cushions.

* * *

His valet had also noticed the difference, as he told Gideon when he went upstairs to change.

‘Warner tells me the viscount is like a new man. When Mrs Albury began changing things he thought there would be hell to pay, but it seems his lordship is content to let her have her way. And none of the staff have left, either, which was a worry, when the mistress began wanting this cleaned, and that moved, but, no, she’s charmed ’em all, just like she did at Brook Street.’

‘Yes, well...’ Gideon buttoned his jacket, a slight frown creasing his brow ‘...I only hope she does not find it all too much for her.’

‘Not Mrs Albury,’ opined Runcorn confidently. ‘She’s as canny as she can hold together and knows what she is about.’

Gideon bent a searching look upon the valet.

‘Do you think her scheming, then?’

Runcorn stepped back, a mixture of shock and outrage contorting his features.

‘In no wise, sir! I hears nothing but good of the mistress from everyone who’s met her. A proper lady she is, and no mistake.’

Gideon was relieved to know that Nicky was so well respected at Rotham, but he was still concerned that she was doing too much.

* * *

He found his opinion shared by the viscount. They were sitting together after the harvest supper, watching as the room was cleared for dancing.

Gideon’s eyes were on Nicky as she left the minstrels’ gallery after talking to the musicians. He heard his father murmur that she had been up since dawn and must be exhausted.

‘She took a rest this afternoon,’ said Gideon, ‘but it was only a short one.’ He jumped up to hold her seat for her when she returned to the top table. ‘My father was just saying how tired you must be.’

‘Not as tired as you,’ she countered. ‘You only arrived at Rotham today.’

The musicians struck up a lively tune and a number of couples took to the floor.

‘You will not dance.’ Her brows shot up and he added quickly, ‘I beg your pardon, I do not mean to browbeat you, but I am concerned,’

She smiled. ‘And I am grateful for it. You are right, this is far too energetic for me, but you must dance, Gideon. I believe it was always the custom for everyone to stand up together, was it not, my lord?’

‘Aye, in the old days,’ agreed the viscount, ‘although I do not dance now.’

‘Then your son must do the honours,’ she declared, giving Gideon’s hand a squeeze. ‘Go along, sir, and do your duty.’

Smiling, Gideon went off to find partners for a succession of energetic country dances. The mood was very merry and the old rafters echoed with laughter and good cheer. When he returned to the top table Nicky pushed back her chair and rose.

‘It looks such fun that I must join in.’

‘Oh, no, you must not.’

‘I have not worked so hard on this party to be denied.’

‘Pray consider, madam, it would be most unwise,’ put in the viscount, frowning.

Dominique pointed to a lady moving ponderously to join the new set that was forming.

‘Mrs Plover is even more advanced than I.’ She fixed her eyes upon Gideon. ‘I am not so delicate that I must sit out every dance, sir. I may not be able to dance a fast jig, but I shall join in this more stately measure.’ A mischievous smile lilted on her lips. ‘Which is why I instructed the musicians to play something slower. Now, will you partner me?’

She saw the smouldering fire in Gideon’s eyes and wondered if she had gone too far. The viscount laughed.

‘Your wife is a very determined lady, Gideon.’

The anger was replaced by a reluctant gleam. And there was something else in the back of those hazel eyes that set her spirits soaring. Admiration.

‘I am beginning to learn that, sir.’ Grinning, Gideon took her hand and led her off to join the next set.

He felt a curious rush of pride at the spontaneous applause that greeted them. It was something of a surprise to find how well she had been accepted at Rotham. The servants called her ‘the new mistress’ and even his father had warmed to her, despite her French blood.

* * *

The harvest supper was hailed as a success, and although the servants were clearly stifling yawns as they served breakfast the next morning there was an air of gaiety about the house that Gideon had not known for years. Nicky was already downstairs and looking none the worse for her exertions and the viscount was positively jovial when he greeted his son.

‘I thought I should be breaking my fast alone this morning,’ Gideon remarked, smiling.

He noted the bloom on Nicky’s cheeks. The thin, rather nervous girl he had married was gone, replaced by a cheerful, confident woman. He decided he liked the change. However, when the viscount suggested she should rest for the day, Gideon could only agree.

‘You must think of the child you are carrying,’ he told her, softening his words with a smile.

‘But I had planned to take a carriage ride today with Lord Rotham,’ she protested. ‘It has become our custom—’

‘Out of the question,’ replied the viscount firmly. ‘I would much rather you took a rest today.’ He hesitated. ‘I thought perhaps Gideon might ride out with me, to see the improvements that have been made to the estate.’

Dominique quickly perceived that she had been outmanoeuvred. The viscount was extending an olive branch to his son and he knew she would not do anything to prevent Gideon accepting this peace offering.

‘Yes, of course, sir,’ said Gideon. ‘But I have the renovations at Chalcots to discuss with Nicky.’

Smiling, Dominique shook her head.

‘We can do that later. I shall spend the morning attending to my correspondence.’ She added shyly, ‘But perhaps, Gideon, if the weather holds, you would take a turn in the garden with me when you come back?’

The alacrity of his assent was reassuring and she went off to write her letters. The windows of the morning room commanded a good view of the park, and she happened to look up sometime later to see Gideon and his father riding off together. They looked to be conversing and she hoped that this was the beginning of a better understanding between father and son.

* * *

The pair did not return until late afternoon and Gideon went immediately in search of his wife.

‘If you still wish to stroll in the gardens, I am at your command,’ he told her. ‘As long as you do not mind me in all my dirt.’

‘Not in the least.’ She laughed at him and, taking his arm, she accompanied him out to the shrubbery.

It was a beautiful afternoon with just enough breeze to prevent the heat from being uncomfortable.

‘The gardens look better than I remember,’ remarked Gideon.

‘Your father gave permission for another apprentice gardener.’

He slanted a look down at her.

‘At your suggestion? Of course it was, you have no need to tell me.’ He stopped and smiled at her. ‘You have made a great difference to this house, my dear. I have much to thank you for.’

A stray curl fluttered across her face and Gideon gently pushed the tendril behind her ear. His hand hovered for a moment, cupping her cheek, and she gazed up at him, a shy smile in her eyes. He drew back immediately, alarmed at how quickly the slumbering desire deep inside him had awoken. He looked away and they began to walk on.

‘Father and I talked, when we rode out this morning,’ he said. ‘It is a long time since we did anything together save quarrel.’

‘I am glad. One should not be at odds with one’s family.’

He heard the sadness in her voice and asked quickly, ‘Have you had news of your father?’

She shook her head, frowning.

‘No, it is not that. It is Max.’

‘The earl? What has he been doing now?’

‘It is rather what he did not do.’ She bit her lip. ‘When we lived at the Abbey Mama gave nearly all her letters to Max to frank, but since moving to the village she has been going to the posting office. The number of replies she receives now makes me think that my cousin was throwing her letters away.’

‘It would be just like Martlesham to discard the letters and say nothing about it, if he thought Jerome Rainault was dead.’ He patted her hand, keen to give her thoughts a happier turn. ‘My father has suggested you should invite your mother to come here, at least until your confinement.’ She stared at him and he added, ‘Father knows how much pleasure Mrs Rainault’s letters give you and thought you might feel happier with her close at hand.’

Relief shone in her eyes.

‘Oh, I would. So...yes, yes, please. I shall write to her this very day. I did not like to ask the viscount—’

‘Why not? You have shown no fear in persuading him to do so many other things.’

‘Ah, but that was for Rotham.’

He stopped and gave her a quick hug.

‘Dear Nicky, so brave about doing what you see as your duty, yet you would not ask for something for yourself.’

The weight of his arm on her shoulders, his body pressed close to her own, roused the now familiar desire inside her. The warmth in his gaze quickened her pulse, heating her blood. Their eyes were locked, saying so much more than could ever be put into words—but perhaps that was only her interpretation. Wishful thinking.

As if to prove her right, a sudden flush mounted Gideon’s cheek. He looked away, cleared his throat and began to walk on again,

‘Father is anxious for your well-being, my dear. If your mother’s presence would be a comfort, then she must come to Rotham.’

‘I would be v-very glad to have Mama with me,’ she stammered, still shaken by the effect of his careless embrace. ‘But I do not want to impose any extra guests upon your father.’

He chuckled. ‘Rotham is big enough to accommodate a dozen guests and Father need not see any of them.’

‘Then I will write immediately. In fact, I penned a note to her this very morning. I will open it and add a postscript. I know she will be happy to come and I will be delighted to see her.’

‘Good. Tell her to come as soon as possible. I will feel happier if you have more company, especially as I shall be leaving for Brook Street tomorrow.’

He led her to the wooden bench set into an arbour at one side of the shrubbery and they sat down.

She said shyly, ‘Must you go?’

‘I’m afraid so, I have workmen waiting upon my return to Chalcots.’ Work he had deliberately set up so that he could not be tempted to remain at Rotham, but Gideon now found he did not want to part from Nicky. ‘I wish you could come with me—’

The words came out in a rush, as if he had spoken on impulse. They gave her some comfort, but she knew it was not practical and shook her head.

‘I wish I could, but such a journey would be very tiring for me now and, knowing how anxious you and your father are for my health, it would be inadvisable.’

‘Then I shall return again as soon as possible,’ he told her. ‘And I must set Judd to finding staff for us...’

‘Mrs Ellis has a daughter who is looking for a position as housekeeper,’ said Dominique, not looking at him. ‘She has a sweetheart, Thomas, the first footman, who is very anxious to become a butler. They would make an ideal couple to look after Chalcots.’

‘What if they should start breeding?’

Gideon took the opportunity to place his hand on the swell of her belly. The life she was carrying there never ceased to amaze him.

Dominique shrugged. ‘We can always find extra help for a few months, if we need to. And you told me there is a cottage adjoining the stables at Chalcots. They might like to live there, even if it takes a little work to make it comfortable.’

‘You have thought it all out. Very well, I will mention it to Mrs Ellis today. If the couple marry in the New Year, then they can run Chalcots for us.’ He stood up and held out his hand for her. ‘Come, it is nearly time for dinner and I must change—and I have yet to show you the plans I have drawn up for our new home.’

* * *

As Gideon made his way back to London he pondered on the change that had come over Rotham—and his father. He was surprised at the way the viscount had taken to Nicky—after all, his father had as little cause to like the French as Gideon and yet, not only had he welcomed his daughter-in-law, he had even suggested that her mother should join them at Rotham. Of course, it could be merely that he was anxious for the unborn child, which might well be heir to Rotham, but somehow Gideon did not think so. It was Nicky’s doing. She had beguiled the viscount, just as she had beguiled him.

He thought back to their time in the gardens yesterday, the way his heart had stopped when he had looked down into her eyes. Not only his heart, but the whole world. He had wanted to catch her up in his arms and cover her face with kisses, to show her how much he...

His hands tightened on the reins, causing his horse to shy nervously. Madness even to think of it. She was the daughter of Jerome Rainault, a member of the hated Girondins who had murdered his brother. To feel anything for her would be to betray James.

Yet she was his wife and he could not deny he cared for her—as a friend, perhaps, and a companion, but it could not, must not ever be, more than that.