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‘I call her Myrtle for the plant. When I found her, there was a lady who lived in a cottage on that estate who helped. She grew herbs and medicinal plants in her glasshouse and she made a poultice of crushed myrtle leaves to help heal the wound after we amputated her leg.’
‘Thank you for telling me.’ Cecily reached between them and touched his arm. ‘And thank you, again, for the other night. You helped me more than you know and I am happy to have this chance to tell you of my decision.’
‘You do sound less troubled today, although you look in need of sleep.’
‘I have had much to think about.’
‘And your decision?’
‘You said earlier that everyone has an alternative and that is true for me, too. I can remain in my present circumstances and allow my life to dwindle and fade, or I can grasp my future with both hands. So I thought about what I truly want and that is my own household to run. I love the busyness and I love having family around and seeing the tenants and helping where I can, so the obvious solution is for me to marry. That way I shall get my own household and I will also avoid becoming a burden on my family in the future.’
There was a long pause, the only sound the occasional chink of a horseshoe against stone. His profile was harsh, his brows gathered in a frown at the bridge of his nose.
‘You implied that wasn’t an option when we spoke before.’
‘I did not believe it was an option. Not then.’
‘And what changed your mind?’
She could never admit the truth: that his kiss had awakened a delicious urge to experience more. Intimacy—it had never been a factor in her thoughts before. Her life had given her the domesticity and child-rearing aspects of marriage and she had been content with that. She had done her duty. That kiss had served as a reminder that there was a third element to marriage and the only way for her to experience more of that would be to marry. And she even had a candidate in mind. She had tried not to dwell on the suspicion that kissing Lord Kilburn might prove less enticing than kissing Zach.
‘The deciding factor was that I know just the man.’
He faced her, his eyes turbulent with emotion. ‘You have a sweetheart?’
‘Not a sweetheart. But there is someone. He is a neighbour of my aunt in Oxfordshire, who I first met a few years ago, soon after his wife died. We met again earlier this year, in London. He proposed, but I turned him down because I was needed at home.’
She had been unable to fathom his lordship’s feelings for her... There had been little of the lover in his courtship—if that is what such a restrained pursuit could be called—and yet the flash of desperation in his eyes when she had refused him had made her wonder. She could not decide, however, if it was the loss of her or of her dowry that sparked that single glimpse of deep emotion.
‘He is a widower with young children, so I shall be doing him a favour at the same time.’
Saying it out loud sounded a touch cold-blooded, but Lord Kilburn seemed a pleasant enough gentleman and surely would prove the perfect solution to her dilemma. She suffered no delusions—at the age of thirty there would be few options open to her. There was no queue of gentlemen clamouring to marry her and, having met his lordship again at various events during the recent Season, she knew he was still interested in her.
Or, possibly, in my dowry.
She dismissed that cynical voice. That was the world she lived in, and the old saying a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush could hardly be more apt. It would be foolish to expect love to find her as it had her brothers. It was different for women.
Except Rosalind is the same age as you. She found love.
She brushed her misgivings aside. The thought of leaving her beloved family brought an aching lump to her throat, but she forced it down, concentrating on the positive aspects of marriage. She would have her own household to run, stepchildren to care for and maybe even her own children. That, surely, would bring her happiness and contentment. It was the lot of many women in her position and, besides, what other choice did she have?
She could not bear to resign herself to life as the dependent relation.
‘Marriage is not something to be entered into with the head. What about the heart?’
Zach’s comment stung. Why should he care about her decision?
‘On the contrary, in my world, marriage is often entered into with the head.’
And Kilburn will make for a safe, steady, unexciting husband.
She raised her chin. ‘The Earl will be the perfect choice. We shall be perfectly content together.’
‘An earl. Of course—the perfect choice for Lady Perfect.’
‘Is that how you see me? Lady Perfect?’
‘It is the image you present to the world.’
She stared at him. ‘The image I present? You think me, somehow, false?’
He shook his head, his dark locks shining in the sun, and she had a sudden urge to run her fingers through those heavy, satiny curls.
‘No. I do not think you false. Rather, I see you as dutiful and restrained, just as a perfect lady should be and who behaves just as she ought.’
‘And shallow, I surmise.’
‘Oh, no.’ He turned his head to look at her and his eyes gleamed. ‘You are not shallow, my lady.’
‘And you deduce this from one brief encounter? You flatter yourself you know me because I was unwise enough to confide in you when I was feeling uncommonly low.’
‘I hope you will look back upon our meeting with pleasure, my lady. And you are right. I do not know you. Not all of you. But I saw a different woman emerge in the moonlight when you allowed yourself to forget your status. That woman is still beneath, with her dreams and her passions, if you will only give her a voice.’
Cecily swallowed. She did not want more uncertainty. She had made her decision. His words rattled her... Was it really possible he understood more of what lay in her heart than she did?
‘Heavens.’ She forced a tinkling laugh. ‘I do not believe I have ever heard such a lengthy speech from you, Mr Gray.’
‘I limit my words to when I have something to say.’
‘An admirable trait, I am sure.’ They had reached a river. ‘I should like to return now, if you please,’ she said.
‘As you wish. If we follow upstream, it will bring us close to the lake where we spoke the other night and that is not far from the stable yard.’
The lake...the moonlight...the touch of his lips. Her pulse quickened at the memory and she slid a sidelong glance at his impassive profile. Did he remember? Of course he did...it was an idiotic question. More pertinent—might he snatch this opportunity to kiss her again? And, if he did, would she allow it?
The sight of three figures on the bank ahead of them answered her question as to whether he might snatch a kiss. Zach had told her Leo, Dominic and Daniel were fishing and he must have known, by riding in this direction, they would meet them. He had no wish to prolong their private talk or to kiss her again, that was abundantly clear, and knowing that made her feel...deflated, somehow.
And what did you expect? Have you given him reason to think you have enjoyed this conversation or his company this morning?
‘Zach.’ The other men had yet to notice their approach and she must say this before it was too late. ‘I should like you to know—I might not have shown it, but I have valued our conversations. They have helped me.’
He smiled. ‘Thank you. I did not mean to annoy you, but please think about what I have said before you finally decide upon your future. You owe yourself that much.’
‘I promise I shall. And I shall visit my aunt and meet his lordship again before making any commitment.’
The three men ahead had now caught sight of them and Cecily waved. She interpreted the reason behind Leo’s frown so, to forestall any negative remark concerning her choice of escort, as soon as they were within earshot, she called, ‘There you are! Mr Gray offered to show me where you were fishing. Isn’t it a glorious day?’
Chapter Five (#ulink_60b9d09a-db87-53c0-a878-0f42abb14e3a)
Leo’s frown lifted slightly, but he still looked stern enough to make Cecily anxious. Her brother was nothing if not protective and she would not have chosen to meet him in this way. She wished Zach had shown more discretion—a glance at his expression showed no apprehension. Did he not realise their social blunder?
Of course he does not. He is a Romany.
‘I understood you said there was a horse needing your treatment, Gray.’ Leo’s voice was clipped with annoyance. His gaze flicked to Cecily and, to her chagrin, she felt her cheeks heat. ‘I trust my sister did not distract you from your errand of mercy?’
He strode towards them. As he reached for Cecily, ready to help her dismount, a loud braying noise rent the air. Polly laid back her ears and skittered sideways, away from Leo. Cecily, her leg already lifted over the pommel and her foot free of the stirrup, was taken unawares and she lurched across the horse’s neck, her hat falling to the ground. As her arms flailed in an attempt to grab the pommel, a strong arm wrapped around her waist from behind, plucking her from the saddle and onto Zach’s lap. Before her brain could even register the sequence of events, Cecily felt her body relax back into the solid strength of Zach’s as though she belonged, safe and secure in his arms. His lips pressed momentarily to her hair. Then he swung his right leg across his horse’s neck, so he was sitting sideways on the horse, and he held Cecily close as he slid to the ground. There was no stumble as he landed—graceful as a cat—and he gently set Cecily on her own two feet. Only then did he release her, with a slide of his hand and a brief squeeze at the side of her waist.
Leo’s face was like thunder but, before he could speak, Daniel said, ‘Oh, well caught, Absalom. Lucky you were there, or Lady Cecily might have come a cropper.’
‘My sister is an accomplished horsewoman.’ The manner in which Leo bit out his words told Cecily of the effort it cost him to keep his temper in check. ‘She would have recovered her seat without help, I assure you.’
Cecily cast an imploring look at Dominic, who ghosted a wink in reply to show he understood her silent plea to defuse the tension. He walked over, picking up Cecily’s fallen hat on the way.
‘Was that a donkey?’ he asked, as he handed the hat to Cecily.
He gazed in the direction of the sound, as though expecting one to materialise from among the trees further along the riverbank and beyond a narrow brook.
‘It was,’ Zach said. ‘He will—there he is.’
And, sure enough, a donkey emerged from the nearby copse and stared, ears stiffly upright, in their direction.
‘Why is he not tethered? Does he belong to you?’ Leo still scowled, his attention still locked on Zach.
‘He is not tethered because he is free.’ Daniel slapped Zach on the back. ‘That’s one of the first things I learned about my friend here.’
He emphasised the word ‘friend’ ever so slightly, and Leo’s gaze switched to him. With a barely perceptible nod, he signalled he had taken Daniel’s point and Cecily breathed more easily.
‘He can charm the birds out of the trees,’ Daniel continued. ‘Creatures love him and he allows them to stay or go as they please.’
The donkey—brownish-grey with ludicrously long ears and huge eyes—had crossed the brook and wandered over to them as they talked. He nudged his head against Zach, who scratched behind his ears. Cecily reached out and stroked his velvet-smooth nose.
‘Does he have a name?’
‘Sancho.’ She caught the quick glint of humour in Zach’s dark eyes—not black as they sometimes appeared, but the deepest, darkest brown she had ever seen. ‘Sancho Panza.’
Dominic guffawed. ‘Sancho Panza! Did you hear that, Father?’
Leo’s lips twitched in a half-smile. ‘And you see yourself as a modern-day Don Quixote, do you, Gray? You and your faithful squire on a quest to revive chivalry, undo wrongs and bring justice to the world?’
There was challenge and a hint of mockery in his tone, but Zach seemed not to notice. He stood, completely relaxed, the donkey by his side.
‘I have yet to mistake a windmill for a ferocious giant,’ he said, with a smile, ‘but it seemed a fitting name.’
Leo acknowledged the comment with a tilt of his chin. ‘Come, Cecily,’ he said. ‘I shall escort you back to the house.’
Before he could move, however, Zach was by Cecily’s side, lacing his fingers for her to step into.
‘Permit me, my lady.’
She stepped into his cupped hands and he effortlessly hoisted her on to Polly’s back. Then he faced Leo.
‘You may entrust Lady Cecily to my care, your Grace. The mare will be ready to treat by now, so it is time I returned. We’ll leave you to enjoy your fishing.’
To Cecily’s surprise, Leo accepted this with a curt nod, but the look he sent her warned she was likely to suffer a lecture on the wisdom of riding around the countryside accompanied only by a Romany. The hypocrisy of his attitude fired her sense of injustice. She knew only too well that Vernon and Thea had, prior to their marriage, spent several unchaperoned days and nights together on the road as they searched for Daniel, who had gone missing. Compared to that, a short morning ride around the Markhams’ estate was completely harmless. She batted away the nagging voice that reminded her that the difference was that she was female.
Thea is a woman, too. And Leo does not think any the less of her for her behaviour.
‘Your brother disapproves,’ Zach said as they rode away, Sancho following behind at a trot.
They crossed over the same little brook and headed towards the copse from which Sancho had emerged.
‘He is protective. It is who he is.’ Cecily might find Leo’s attitude exasperating, but she was allowed to criticise him and be irritated by him. He was her brother.
‘My opinion of him would be less if he were not. He is a strong man and he cares for those he feels responsible for.’
‘Do you have any brothers or sisters?’
His expression blanked and she cursed herself for asking such a direct question. Had she not already established that he did not respond well to curiosity? They rode along the edge of the copse until it gave way to a large hayfield. Between the edge of the uncut grass and the trees was a camp, with a tent and a cart. Standing next to the dead ashes of the fire was Myrtle, tail wagging so hard she was almost wriggling with joy.
‘Why is Myrtle here? We left her at the stables.’
‘She would not remain there on her own. This is her home. She will always return.’ Zach turned his head and caught Cecily’s eye. ‘It is where she feels safe, where she is loved.’
Cecily’s heart squeezed at Zach’s words. Home. That is exactly how she felt about her home and her family—safe and loved. But hankering over the past was pointless. She accepted that now. Everything had changed and she was determined to find her new place in the world.
Zach leapt from his horse’s back and crouched down to fondle the dog, murmuring, his voice too quiet for Cecily to make out his words. Then he sprang once more on to his horse and Myrtle settled down, her head on her outstretched paws, and heaved a sigh. As they rode away, Cecily looked back, seeing that the donkey, too, remained at the camp, cropping at the grass.
‘What did you say to Myrtle?’
He sent her a sharp glance. ‘You think it odd that I talk to her?’
She did, a bit. But she did not say so. ‘I have never had a pet dog. Rosalind—the Duchess—she has a dog. He is huge, almost up to my waist, and she talks to him all the time. He lives with us now.’
‘You are a good horsewoman. Do you not talk to your horse?’
‘Not really. Only if they need calming down.’
He shook his head. ‘I find that odd.’
‘Is it because you live alone, do you think?’
He laughed, tilting his head to the sky and breathing deeply, as he had the other night. ‘I am not lonely, if that is what you wish to know. I am content. I enjoy this life and being outdoors. I love nature. I am a fortunate man.’
A picture of his campsite formed in her head. He had so little, compared to the riches and the opulence she and her family took for granted: the huge, sprawling Cheriton Abbey in Devonshire, minor estates scattered around the country, each one of them with a house at least as big as Stourwell Court, and a full contingent of staff to keep them in readiness for family visits, plus a magnificent town house in Grosvenor Square in London. And yet he was content, and she...she...
I have done nothing but complain. Poor little me: my brother got married and I am no longer the mistress of the Abbey and all his other properties.
Zach’s attitude was humbling.
