Amanda Scott (13 page)

“You have the company of your friends now, do you not?”

“Well, of course I do, but what good is that when everyone will be gone on Thursday? I shall then be bored to distraction.”

“Don’t you think you are behaving childishly?”

“Oh,” she gasped, “you are always so cocksure, Joshua, so all-knowing, as though you and you alone can be right. You called me childish last night, too, when it was you treating me like a child that made me behave so—if indeed I did. You make me so angry!” She had struggled against her growing fury, but emotion prevailed; and now, without thought for consequence, indeed without thought for anything beyond her outrage, she whirled on him, flailing, her fists pounding against his chest, her angry words punctuating every blow. “I am not a child, damn you!”

Chalford stood there, stunned for a moment, before he made any attempt to protect himself. Then, without effort, he caught her wrists in a firm grasp and said grimly, “I will let you hurl whatever words at me you like, Adriana, but I will not brook outright violence. Such ungoverned behavior merely serves to prove my point, as you must see for yourself. Now, come to bed.”

“I shall sleep here tonight,” she said, breathing heavily and glaring at him but striving, nonetheless, for a tone haughty enough to match any she had heard from Lady Adelaide.

“I think not,” he replied. “You will come with me.”

Reluctantly she obeyed him and then, in his bed, found herself fighting unreasonable fury again when he made no attempt to make love to her. She knew from the rhythm of his breathing that he was not asleep, but he made no attempt to speak to her either. In her frustration, she found herself replaying their confrontation in her mind. It was not long before she began to wish very much that the scene had never occurred and to wonder what she could do to make matters better between them.

Finally, after what seemed to be an hour or more of increasing tension, she decided there was only one thing to do. She said quietly, “Joshua, are you still awake?”

“Yes.”

She swallowed, wishing this were not necessary. “Perhaps you were right. If I behaved childishly, I didn’t mean to do so. It just seems to happen. You must think me awfully spoiled.” She paused, drawing a careful breath, then adding in a near whisper, “I hope you are not sorry you married me.”

“I am certainly not sorry about that, sweetheart. Nor,” he added gently, “do I think you spoiled, particularly. You just found fashionable life in London to your liking and would like to continue that butterfly existence. I understand. Unfortunately, it isn’t possible when you are a marchioness with a responsibility to uphold your position.”

“But surely we need not remain here throughout the year,” she protested, trying hard to sound reasonable and not childish. Really, it was difficult to tell the difference sometimes. “I know of dukes and duchesses who are always traveling about, to country houses, to London, into Leicestershire for the hunting, and to Brighton—like Norfolk, though he lives and breathes for Arundel. No one thinks they are neglecting their duties, Joshua. Surely no one would expect more of us than of them.”

“I have never said you cannot ever leave here,” he said. His voice had a bitter note in it now. “We will certainly go to London together occasionally and to visit your father at Wryde. I remain here because I prefer to do so, but you may perhaps, from time to time, visit friends by yourself if you like. And you may certainly invite people to visit whenever you like.”

Adriana stifled a sigh. Though the conversation had not gone as she had hoped, he had now broached a subject she could not ignore. “I’d like to invite Miranda to stay with us,” she said. “She dislikes living with Alston and Sophie, as I did, and she would prefer to come to us. Would you allow that, Joshua?”

“Certainly, although I cannot think it a wise thing to suggest so soon after our marriage. Your brother would no doubt oppose the proposition now, and I believe it would be better for you to become more settled here before you invite her for a long visit. Invite them all to come for Christmas, perhaps, then you can invite Miranda to stay on until she wishes to return to London for the Season, as she surely will.”

Knowing she would do well to accept his suggestion and certain she would do herself no good at all by mentioning now that she, too, intended to return to London for the Season, Adriana held her peace.

After a period of silence, Chalford slipped his arm beneath her shoulders and drew her to him. “I know you fear boredom here, sweetheart, but just wait until the others have gone. I’ll help you find things to amuse you.” Raising himself onto his elbow, he bent over to kiss her, and as she responded, it occurred to her that there was one thing, certainly, that never failed to rout boredom. Their disagreement was soon forgotten.

T
HEY BADE FAREWELL TO
the last of their visitors before noon on Thursday, and Adriana made every attempt to appear cheerful as she turned back toward the main entrance after waving good-bye to the final coach, but she could not repress a small sigh as she stepped back into the empty entry hall at Chalford’s side.

He chuckled. “Go and find a warm cloak, sweetheart. You are going to need it.”

She looked up at him, curiosity promptly overcoming depression. “Why do I need a cloak, sir? There is a brisk wind blowing, to be sure, but the air is quite warm today.”

“Just, for once, do as I say without question,” he told her, grinning, “and put on a pair of sturdy shoes, too. You won’t want those skimpy little sandals where we’re going.”

“And must I change my dress as well?” she asked, looking down at her sprig muslin round gown.

“No need. Since it has no train to get in the way, that one will serve you well enough. Now go!”

Hurrying up the stairs to her dressing room, she quickly donned a pair of stout walking shoes and ordered Nancy to search out a pelisse for her.

“He said to find a heavy cloak, but I haven’t got one, as I told him not two days ago, so my Persian double silk pelisse must do. I am persuaded you will have packed it, Nancy.”

“To be sure, Miss Adrie, but ’tis not much use against this damp chill, I’m thinkin’. I told you more ’n’ once you did ought to have a good heavy wool one made up, with a warm hood, but you never did. ’Tis a wonder ’n’ all you’ve never caught the ague, runnin’ about London in naught but such skimpy dresses.”

“No one wears heavy cloaks anymore, Nancy, and one always has furs to wrap around oneself in the coach, so unless one strolls about visiting shops, there is no need for anything heavier than a pelisse or an occasional light shawl.”

“Well, unless I much mistake the matter, miss, you’ll be needin’ somethin’ a lot warmer than that here,” Nancy said tartly as she extracted from the back of the wardrobe the article in question, an exquisite creation of amber silk with dark-brown figuring, a pattern that was reversed on the inside. “There be a chill in that wind today, sunny skies or not.”

“Well, I am certainly not going to tell Chalford I cannot go with him for lack of proper clothing,” Adriana said. “He is all impatience, and I confess, my curiosity is sufficiently aroused that I would go with him in my shift if it were necessary. Don’t scold,” she added when her abigail’s eyebrows beetled ominously. “I expect to need warm clothes for winter, but Lady Adelaide will know what must be done. Perhaps there is a seamstress in Hythe.”

Flinging the pelisse over her shoulders, settling its wide collar, and tying the silken strings beneath her chin, she took a quick look in the pier glass, then hurried back downstairs to find Chalford awaiting her in the entry hall. He shook his head at the light pelisse but said nothing more than that they had best hurry if they were going to catch the tide.”

“The tide?”

“I thought you might like to see how you like the
Sea Dragon,”
he said, smiling at her, clearly well-pleased with himself and just as clearly watching for her reaction.

“You are going to take me out on your yacht?”

“Indeed I am. I thought you ought to know what our
Sea Dragon
is like so that you might better compare her with Braverstoke’s boat when the opportunity arises.”

Glancing up at him, Adriana’s eyes twinkled, but she said nothing of the thoughts tumbling through her mind, thoughts that delighted her and filled her with a warm glow of happiness. She spoke only of her pleasure. “I have always wished to go out upon the sea in a real ship,” she said. “This is beyond anything great, Joshua. Where is she?”

“I keep her berthed in a small harbor just above Hythe. We have no dock below the castle. The harbor there is not safe in a storm, and though it is perfectly possible to sail her in, especially when the weather is fine, as it is today, I did not think your first excursion aboard he ought to begin with a climb up a rope ladder to the deck.” When Adriana’s eyes widened, he chuckled. “We’ll save that experience for another time. I do hope your shoes are more practical than that fool pelisse.”

She grinned at him. “My shoes are fine.” She lifted the hem of her skirt to show him: “Not precisely the height of fashion, but I daresay I can totter about the streets of Hythe without mishap. Indeed, I daresay I could even negotiate your cliff path in them if I had to do so.”

Chalford’s curricle awaited them at the door, and he lifted Adriana onto the seat, shouting to his groom to “Give them their heads” as soon as he had leapt up beside her and gathered the reins into his hands. The groom did as he was bid, then hoisted himself to his perch behind them as the curricle surged forward. Chalford negotiated the turn from the quadrangle through the barbican gate in fine style, looping his whip and catching the thong with a deft twist of his wrist. A moment later they were across the drawbridge, through the lodge gates, and on their way.

The journey into Hythe was quickly accomplished, and they had nearly passed through the village before Adriana knew where they were. She protested at their speed.

“Nothing much to see here,” Chalford told her, slowing his team nonetheless. “Dover and Ashford are the nearest towns of any size, if you are thinking of visiting the shops. The only thing Hythe still has to boast about is Saint Leonard’s, which dates from the Middle Ages. It’s got a mighty fine chancel.”

“But I thought Hythe was a port city,” she said. “This is naught but a village.”

“In its day it was one of the Cinque Ports,” he said, “but its day ended somewhere toward the close of the thirteenth century. Hythe used to spread for two miles along the coast and up the steep slopes behind us, but over the years the sea has spoiled the main harbor and obliterated much of the town.”

The private harbor where the
Sea Dragon
was berthed was cup-shaped, small, and picturesque. There were five boats tied to docks there, only one of which was larger than the
Sea Dragon.
Leaving the curricle in the groom’s charge, they walked down to the water together. Joshua, carrying a basket he had taken from the curricle in one hand and guiding Adriana with the other placed lightly under her elbow, identified the boats for her. Upon discovering that the larger boat was the
Golden Fleece,
she was pleased to be able to tell him with sincerity that she thought the
Sea Dragon
the more graceful-looking vessel.

Beaming with pride, Joshua helped her aboard. The little yacht gleamed from stem to stern, its woods and brasses polished to a high gloss, its painters and lines coiled neatly in place, its sails tidily furled. The only fault Adriana could detect was an odd and rather overpowering odor of deteriorating fish.

“Welcome aboard, m’lady,” said the bearded seaman who hurried up from belowdecks to greet them.

“This is Captain Curry, my dear,” Chalford told her. “Are we ready to sail, Curry?”

“Aye, m’lord, the lads are below. Shall I take the basket?”

“Yes, and stow it carefully. ’Tis a picnic for my lady.”

“Oh, Joshua, a picnic?”

“Mrs. Motley arranged it when I told her my plan for the day. I daresay we’ll enjoy a right good meal.” He wrinkled his nose suddenly.

Watching him, Adriana decided with relief that perhaps the odor she had detected was not a normal one. She had been trying very hard to pretend a casual attitude, but now she felt confident enough to ask him what it was.

“I don’t know, sweetheart, but it certainly isn’t brass polish. Curry, what on earth have you been hauling aboard my boat? Smells like spoilt fish.”

The captain shrugged and answered glibly. “As you say, m’lord. The lads found a couple in the hold. Must have been overlooked after you had them gentlemen out fishing several weeks ago. We’ve throwed ’em out and washed ’er down, but the scent does want t’ linger, beggin’ yer pardon fer the inconvenience.”

Chalford regarded his captain searchingly. “A couple of dead fish, Curry?”

“Aye, sir.” Curry gazed back at him, all innocence.

Shaking his head but declining to pursue the matter, Chalford turned the subject to their course for the day, and by the time the crew had come topside to unfurl the sails, Adriana had forgotten the incident altogether. Once they were outside the harbor on the rolling waves of the Channel, with the wind behind them, the smell disappeared and she thought of nothing but enjoying the new and quite marvelous sensations of sailing.

“It’s wonderful, Joshua,” she said when he joined her at the rail, where she was looking down at the water, watching it rush past the sides of the boat. “Look how the ship makes its own waves at it goes. Oh, it’s beautiful.”

“I’m glad you like her.” He put one arm around her shoulders and, with his other hand, turned her face so that he could look deep into her eyes. “She’s a special lady,” he said, his voice low in his throat. “I promise you, sweetheart, the
Sea Dragon
is the cleverest, finest yacht on the south coast.”

She looked back at him. Her heart was beating faster than usual, but she kept her expression carefully guileless. “I am entirely convinced, my lord, that she is much, much nicer than poor Mr. Braverstoke’s
Golden Fleece.”

“Baggage.” He grinned at her, then, staring out to sea again, added ruefully, “I am persuaded that you would find someone to flirt with in a cavern ten miles underground, my sweet, but I could wish you might choose someone other than Randall Braverstoke to work your wiles upon.”