скачать книгу бесплатно
“You must have visited this folly many times, Miss Lester. Are you fired with enthusiasm to see it again?”
Eversleigh’s quiet question drew Lenore out of the circle. Glancing up, she saw something in his grey eyes that caused her to inwardly quiver. Calmly she looked away, letting her gaze scan the rest of the company, before deliberately bringing it once more to his face. “I fear I would find the excursion somewhat tame, Your Grace. I think I’ll feed the carp in the pond at the centre of the maze.”
She dropped her gaze in a bid to appear unconscious, but could not resist glancing up through her lashes. Eversleigh’s gaze was on her face, his eyes gleaming silver. As she watched, a slight smile curved his lips. “Undoubtedly a more peaceful place to spend a glorious afternoon.”
Her heart skittering, Lenore hung on his next words. To her surprise, Eversleigh looked away.
Following his gaze, Lenore saw Jack approaching, clearly intent on speaking with Eversleigh. Having no desire to meet her eldest brother before he had had time to forget her interference in his plans of the night before, Lenore inclined her head to Eversleigh. With a murmured, “Your Grace,” she drifted away.
Jason let her go. The afternoon stretched before them and he had no wish for Jack to divine his interest. Not yet.
“You dog, Jason! What the devil did you mean by assisting Lenore with her little plan last night?”
Jason smiled. “Just to see how you would take it, why else?” His mocking gaze teased Jack. “Besides, your sister was right, if not for the right reasons. Look about you. How relaxed and unthreatened do you think these fair ladies would be feeling today if you and Harry had had your way?”
The comment caused Jack to pause, considering the unfettered gaiety about him.
“You really need to plan your campaigns a little more thoroughly,” Jason advised. “Take it from one who knows.”
Jack laughed. “Very well. I can hardly argue in the face of your experience. But after last night, I claim the right to another touch at you over the billiard table. Harry’ll take this crowd on to the folly. We can have our game, then follow on later.”
Jason inclined his head. “An excellent idea.”
Ten feet away, ostensibly listening to Lady Hattersley describe the folly on her family’s estate, Lenore burned, disappointment, anger and an odd species of shame consuming her. With her usual serene mask firmly in place, she forced herself to wait until Eversleigh’s tall figure had disappeared into the house beside Jack before, excusing herself to her guests, she headed for the kitchens. This time, her brother could pay his own debts.
She left the house ten minutes later, a basket of breadcrumbs on her arm. She had considered immersing herself in the Assyrians in an effort to reignite her interest but the day was too glorious to spend indoors and the carp did, in fact, need feeding. Leaving the terrace, she headed for the maze, sited amid a series of informal gardens, designed to lead from one to the other, each with a different feature. The Hall was surrounded by well-tended vistas, with the lake and surrounding lawns before it, the formal parterres and rose garden to one side, the maze with the wilderness and shrubbery on the other. The extensive kitchen gardens and succession houses completed the circle.
As she crossed the first of the trio of gardens leading to the gateway to the maze, Lenore caught a glimpse of peach skirts in one of the interconnecting gardens to the side. A second glance revealed the dark coat of a gentleman hovering protectively. Despite her disgust with her own attempt at encouragement, Lenore sent a wish for success winging her cousin’s way before plunging on towards the pool at the centre of the maze.
Once there, she slumped into an untidy heap by the pool’s edge, uncaring of her skirts, and settled the basket beside her. As she started flicking crumbs to the ravenous fish, the iniquity of her position engulfed her.
What had possessed her to surrender to the promptings of her unexpected feelings and issue an invitation to Eversleigh? Admittedly he was no threat to her, given that he would be leaving on Saturday morning to return to town and offer for some simpering ninny, diamond of the first water though she might be. It would undoubtedly be a fitting fate for His Grace. Quite why she should feel disillusioned by the prospect eluded her. Beneath her self-imposed calm she was honest enough to recognise a yearning to experience, just once, the thrill other women felt, the thrill to which they became so disastrously addicted. She had felt the first glimmerings, the skittering sensations which prickled along her nerves whenever Eversleigh was near. Instinctively she had clamped down on her reactions; now she longed to set them free, just once, knowing she stood in no danger. Even if she fell under Eversleigh’s spell, he would not seduce her. She had seen the stern patriarch behind the rake’s mask; she was safe with him.
But was she safe from herself? Would she, too, succumb to love and leave herself open to the hurt that followed inexorably in its wake? Lenore shifted, frowning at the fat fish who rose to gobble her crumbs. Perhaps she should thank Eversleigh, and his liking for billiards, for denying her the chance of finding out?
Twenty minutes later, Jason headed for the maze, his mind entirely focused on the woman he was seeking. He did not delude himself that she had changed her stance on marriage but, given that she must by now know of his need to marry, her transparent invitation to spend time privately with her could only be interpreted as a wish to discuss the matter. He had hoped to make her question her views while at the same time reassuring her she had no reason to fear him; apparently he had succeeded. The small triumph made his steps more determined.
Her wish to remain unmarried was understandable. She had been permitted a great deal of independence and, given her undoubted intelligence, her freedom had become important to her. He intended reassuring her that an independent, intelligent woman need not fear marriage to him.
Indeed, with every passing day he became more certain of his choice. Lenore Lester would suit him very well. She fulfilled all his criteria and, if there was a deep inclination that could not readily be accounted for on that basis, he felt no pressing need to examine it. The fact was sufficient.
Once he had dispelled her reservations and reconstructed her vision of matrimony along the lines he had in mind, he had no doubt she would find no further reason to cavil.
Emerging from the twisting hedges of the maze, he found himself on a large square of lawn surrounding a rectangular pond. Edged with blocks of stone, the surface of the pool was carpeted with water lilies. Beside it, he sighted his quarry, idly flicking her fingers to the fish, who rose with ponderous dignity to her bait.
An entirely spontaneous smile curving his lips, he went forward to join her.
Lenore knew he was there when his shadow fell across the pool. Instantly her heart soared, all thoughts of stoic safety forgotten as the knowledge that he had, after all, accepted her invitation reverberated through her. Hurriedly she recalled her scattering senses, determined not to let him see how much he affected her. Calmly, she continued scattering crumbs to the gluttonous carp. “Good afternoon, Your Grace.”
Jason stopped beside her. “As I surmised, Miss Lester, this is a most peaceful spot.” His eyes rose to the high hedges that surrounded them. Given the absence of most of the party, there was little reason to fear interruption. Had he been intent on seduction, he could not have wished for a better setting.
“Would you care to feed the fish, Your Grace?” Lenore turned to look up at him, holding down the brim of her straw hat to shield her eyes against the glare.
“Not particularly.” Jason studied her face, then shifted his gaze to the large spotted fish swimming languidly back and forth before his prospective bride. “They look disgustingly over-indulged.”
Head on one side, Lenore studied the fish critically. “You’re right. Clearly they need no further sustenance.” She was dusting her fingers over the basket when Eversleigh’s large hand appeared before her. She glanced up, inwardly grimacing for, with the light behind him, she could not see his face.
For a moment, Jason said nothing, then, “Come. Sit with me in the sunshine.” Smoothly he drew her to her feet, inwardly assuring himself that she was too innocent to have understood the reason for his momentary silence. A wrought-iron seat graced one side of the lawn. Picking up her basket, Jason led her across the clipped grass.
Settling her skirts as she sank on to the seat, Lenore quelled an unexpected spurt of disappointment that her attire was not more elegant. It was strange enough that she was indulging her dreams, sitting here alone with Eversleigh. Her senses were already running riot, her awareness rising to unnerving heights. Only her conviction that no danger attended her departure from the strict bounds of conventional behaviour allowed her to sit calmly as he took his seat beside her.
“You will no doubt be pleased to learn that I did not vanquish Jack.”
“Indeed? You surprise me, Your Grace.” Lenore cast a speculative glance his way.
Jason smiled. “I let him win,” he admitted.
“Why?”
“It was faster. He has now taken himself off, thoroughly chuffed, to join the rest of the party.” He did not add that Jack had been highly suspicious about his stated intention to spend the afternoon practising over the green baize. “Tell me, my dear, do you have any interest in games of chance?”
“None whatsoever,” Lenore replied.
“How many games have you tried?”
Looking up, Lenore was forced to face his scepticism and confess to her ignorance. Not to be outdone, she promptly asked which games he favoured. The list was a long one, especially when he had to explain the features of each.
At the end of it, Lenore looked out over the pool and calmly observed, “With such diverse interests, you must spend much of your time in town at your clubs.”
Jason laughed. “I dare say it appears that way. But only in my youth did sitting up all night over the cards hold any temptation.” Slanting a glance at her profile, he added, “There are, after all, so many better ways to spend the time.”
“Indeed?” The face she turned to him was utterly innocent. “Do you attend the opera, then? Or perhaps the theatre is more to your taste?”
Jason’s eyes narrowed. It was on the tip of his tongue to retort that he had, at various times, found elements of interest at both the opera and theatre. Only a firm resolution to remain steadfastly correct in his dealings with his prospective bride kept him from calling her bluff. “I attend both, on occasion.”
“Have you seen Keane?” Lenore felt a peculiar thrill at having tempted the wolf and survived.
“Several times. He’s an excellent actor provided the part has scope for his talents.”
A discussion of the various theatres and the style of plays produced ensued, followed by a ruthlessly pointed examination of that other source of ton-ish entertainment, the Prince Regent.
“A keen mind utterly wasted,” was Jason’s scathing conclusion.
“Particularly given the opportunities he must have had.” Considering the facilities available to the Prince Regent. Lenore sighed. “Just being so close to all the bookshops would in itself be a boon to any scholar. I’d dearly love to have Hatchards within reach.”
Her pensive comment drew a searching glance from Jason. He had been patiently awaiting the right moment to introduce the topic of marriage, content to spend some time in idle chatter while she overcame her natural hesitancy. Stretching his long legs before him, he crossed his booted ankles, turning slightly so that he could keep her face in view. “Tell me, my dear, if you could design your own Utopia, what would you place within it?”
The unexpected question had Lenore turning to study his face, but she could see nothing beyond encouragement in his eyes. A strange recklessness had her in its grip; she felt no reticence in his presence and marvelled at the fact. It was a heady sort of freedom, knowing she was safe. Head on one side, she considered. “Gardens, certainly. Large gardens, like these.” With a wave of her hand, she indicated their surroundings. “So soothing to have a large garden to wander in. Tell me, Your Grace, do you wander your gardens frequently?”
Jason returned her smile. “I rarely need soothing. However,” he continued, “the gardens at the Abbey are similar to these, though not, I’m sorry to say, in such perfect state.”
“Your wife, no doubt, will remedy that.” Lenore shifted her gaze to the pool.
“So I sincerely hope,” Jason returned. “So, a garden and the staff to tend it. What else?”
“A house, of course. In the country.”
“Naturally. Sufficiently large and appropriately staffed. What of town?”
Lenore grimaced. “I admit that I’m curious to visit London, but the idea of living there does not entice.”
“Why not?”
“I hesitate to admit to such an unfashionable attitude but the thought of having to suffer society at large, as would be unavoidable should I take up residence in the capital, dissuades me from doing so.”
“I protest you do society a grave injustice, my dear. We’re not all fribbles and fops.”
“But this is my Utopia, remember?”
“Just so. So what else takes your fancy?”
“Well,” Lenore temporised, caught up in this strange game, “I enjoy acting as hostess at large gatherings—not much use having a large house and well-trained staff if one does not use them, after all.”
“Very true,” Jason agreed.
“I also enjoy my work among the folk on the estate. However, if this be Utopia, then I would rather not be in charge of the steward and bailiff.”
Jason merely nodded, foreseeing no problem there. The reins of his numerous estates were firmly in his grasp; he needed no help on that front. Remembering her studies, he asked, “What of entertainment? What features most in that sphere?”
“My library. I couldn’t live without my books.”
“The Abbey has an extensive library. My father was an invalid for some time and took delight in restocking it to the hilt.”
“Really?”
It was plain to the meanest intelligence that, of all the subjects they had touched upon, this was the one nearest her heart. Jason looked down into her green eyes and smiled. “There’s a huge range of classics as well as many newer volumes.”
“Have you had it catalogued?”
“Unfortunately not. My father died before he was able to attend to the matter.”
The realisation that she would never see his library dimmed Lenore’s excitement. “You should have it done,” she told him, looking forward once more.
When she remained silent, Jason prompted, “You haven’t mentioned people in this Utopia of yours—a husband and children to make your house a home?”
The question shook Lenore. From any other man she would have imagined the query to stem from mere supposition. But Eversleigh knew her mind on that subject. “I see no reason to complicate my life with a husband, Your Grace.”
“You’re an intelligent woman, Lenore. If a man were able to offer you all your heart desires, would you still not allow a husband into your life?”
Slowly, her heart thudding uncomfortably, Lenore turned to face him. A strange fear had seized her throat, making it difficult to breathe. “Why do you ask, Your Grace?” He was still sitting at his ease beside her, his large frame relaxed, one arm stretched along the back of the wrought-iron seat. But the expression in his grey eyes, the unshakeable, implacable determination of a hunter, sent an unnerving combination of fear and yearning spiralling through her.
“I should have thought that was obvious, my dear.” Jason held her gaze. “You have, no doubt, heard rumours that I intended to wed?”
“I never listen to gossip, Your Grace,” Lenore said, frantic to deny the scarifying possibility that, moment by moment, gained greater substance.
Exasperation glowed briefly in Jason’s eyes. “Just so that you may be assured on the subject, the rumours are correct.”
“Everyone’s expecting you to marry a débutante—a diamond of the first water.” Lenore rushed the words out despite the breathlessness that assailed her. Her mind was reeling in sheer fright at the vision forming with dreadful clarity in her brain.
A supercilious expression infused Jason’s features. “Do I strike you as the sort of man who would marry a witless widgeon?”
Lenore forced herself to look at him with some vestige of her customary composure. “No. But I expect not all diamonds of the first water are widgeons, Your Grace.” Pressing her hands tightly together in her lap, she desperately sought for a way to hijack the conversation. But her wits had seized, frozen into immobility by what she could see inexorably approaching.
Jason inclined his head. “That’s as may be, but I’ve seen too much of overt beauty not to know its real value.” Deliberately, he let his gaze skim her figure as she sat rigidly erect, on the edge of the seat. His voice deepened. “As I said before, you have a very limited understanding of what excites a gentleman’s interest, Lenore.”
He sensed rather than saw her quiver. Swiftly he moved from that topic. “You have told me what you desire from life, what you consider important. I’m willing and able to provide all that you’ve named, in return for your hand in marriage.”
“And all that that entails.” Inwardly aghast, her face registering blank dismay, Lenore pronounced the words as a sentence.
Jason frowned, his gaze fixed on her face. “It entails nothing beyond what you might expect. As we both know, you do not find my company insupportable.” He hesitated, then added more gently, “I believe we will deal very well together, Lenore.”
Giddiness seized Lenore. His version of her fate was clearly stated in the grey eyes so ruthlessly holding hers. Realisation of the danger she faced, and of how far she had already travelled down the road she had promised herself never to tread, swamped her. Her face drained of all colour. “No,” she said, and felt herself start to shake. “I cannot marry you, Your Grace.”
“Why?” Jason uttered the question quietly but compellingly. His eyes narrowed. “And why invite me here if not to discuss that very subject?”
Desperate, Lenore retorted, “I did not invite you here.”
The long look she received in reply shook her to the core.
Quietly, Jason said, “I suggest, my dear, you take a different tack.”
Dragging in a shaky breath, Lenore stated, “Your Grace, I’m greatly honoured that you should consider me as your bride. However, I’m convinced I am unsuited to marriage.”
“Why?”
The question had lost nothing of its force in being repeated. Lenore took refuge in remoteness. “That, I fear, is none of your business.”
“I’m afraid, my dear, that I disagree.” Jason heard his voice gaining in strength, in merciless incisiveness. “In the circumstances, I feel I deserve more than inclination as an excuse. We’re both intelligent adults. Despite your aloofness from it, you understand our world as well as I.”
Temper, belatedly, came to Lenore’s rescue, lending her the strength to defy him. How dared he insist she accede to a loveless marriage simply because it was the way of the world? Her green gaze hardened, gold glints appearing in the clear depths. Her lips firmed into a stubborn line. “Permit me to inform you, Your Grace, that you are undoubtedly the most conceited, arrogant, overbearing male it has ever been my misfortune to meet.” The combination of panic and fury was distinctly unsettling yet Lenore knew no other emotion would serve her now. Imperiously, she rose to her feet, drawing herself up, daring, even now, to meet his silver gaze. “I do not wish to marry. That, for most gentlemen, would be reason enough. Regardless of your thoughts upon the matter, I do not need to explain myself to you.”
Jason shifted, his shoulders coming away from the back of the seat, his ankles uncrossing.
Abruptly, Lenore’s fury deserted her. Eyes wide, she dropped her defiant stance, taking a rapid step back, panic well to the fore. Her gaze was still locked with his. Nothing she saw in the silver-grey encouraged any belief that she had won her point. With a desperate effort, she dragged in enough breath to say, “If you’ll excuse me, Your Grace, I’ve many important tasks to which I must attend.”
Snatching up her basket, she ignominiously fled.
Exasperated, his own eyes narrowed with annoyance, Jason let her go, scowling at the gap in the hedges through which she disappeared. He was, he hoped, too wise to press her now. She could have a few hours to think things through, to tame her wilful ways and acknowledge the appropriateness of his offer. If she didn’t, he would do it for her.
