Anna Jacobs (16 page)

Deep within herself, she felt like weeping. But that would come later, when she was alone. For the moment, she allowed them to help her but tried to avoid meeting his eyes. Those kisses had meant nothing, could mean nothing. Justin Serle was not for her.

Chapter 8

At Satherby, the day following Snowy’s adventure dawned sunny and bright. Eleanor shivered with happy anticipation as she jumped out of bed and went to stare though the window. Since the Dowager was still a little lethargic, no impediment arose to prevent Eleanor from keeping her rendezvous with Mr Lanby, though it seemed a long time until luncheon was over and the Dowager safely back in her chamber.

After the meal, Eleanor dressed in one of her prettiest gowns and spent a long time fussing over her hair, till her maid started to stare at her.

When at last the clock showed it was time to leave, Eleanor went down to the stables to meet Anders as arranged, not daring to disobey him, for she knew that he’d keep his promise to inform the Dowager if she tried to leave him behind. Anders always kept his word.

She spent a minute or two petting Snowy, who was still convalescing in one of the stalls, then suggested they leave, trying not to sound too anxious.

Anders shook his head, sighing. “Aye, I suppose we can go now. But I doubt I’m doing the right thing, letting you meet this man.”

“You said you would!”

“Yes, well, that was yesterday. Today, I’m not so sure. Mind now, if I don’t like the looks of him and say we’re to return, then you must do as you’re told straight away. Promise me!”

“Well, I will promise, but only because I’m sure you’ll find nothing to object to in Mr Lanby.” She danced along the woodland path beside the elderly groom, chattering happily about the progress of the latest foal and speculating as to how soon Snowy’s leg would be better. “Perhaps I can take him up to the house when we - Oh, Mr Lanby! You quite startled me!”

He had been waiting there for nearly an hour, annoyed with himself at how afraid he was of missing her. When he saw that she’d brought someone with her, he looked toward the man questioningly, for he was obviously a servant. Servant or not, the fellow looked disapproving and when their eyes met, he didn’t lower his or look away, but stared steadily back.

Eleanor found the sight of Mr Lanby so splendid that it was a minute or two before she could speak. “This is my groom, Anders, come to keep an eye on me.”

The older man was at his most wooden. “You’ll pardon me for coming along, sir, but her grandmother doesn’t approve of her walking in the woods alone.”

The younger man nodded, but looked disappointed. “It’s only to be expected that a young lady should have proper guardians. “

“Oh, pooh! “ Eleanor exclaimed. “As if I need guardians on our own land.”

“I have to look after her,” Anders continued, determined to get things clear, “for she’s as trusting as a kitten.” His tone implied that he was not.

“Well!” exclaimed Eleanor, setting her hands on her hips. “What an awful thing to say, Anders!”

“It’s true, though, Miss. Anyway, I’ll just drop behind a little and leave you two to choose our path. It’s a pleasant day for a stroll, and no mistake.”

When Anders was out of their hearing, Mr Lanby smiled at Eleanor and said softly, “So you brought your guardian angel along to look me over!”

“I didn’t bring him,” her tone was a trifle sulky. “He insisted on coming. The trouble with servants who’ve known one all one’s life is they never recognize when one has grown up.”

“I have a butler who feels just the same about me and sometimes treats me like a naughty schoolboy.”

Her dimples returned. “Well, then, Mr Lanby, you will understand my feelings precisely.”

He offered her his arm. “Where shall we go?”

She took the arm, feeling suddenly shy. “There’s a very pleasant walk through the woods to the right here, which comes out at a bit of high ground. You get a lovely view of the village from there. It’s one of my favourite places.”

And after that, the time simply flew and she soon relaxed again. She couldn’t have said what they talked about, only that they’d been comfortable together. It was as if they’d known one another for years. He’d made her laugh and they’d never been at a loss for a topic of conversation.

But all the time there had been shivers of something else running beneath the words, some unspoken communication between them. And she knew it meant something important, knew she wished to see much more of him.

At the end of the walk, Crispin clasped one of her hands in both his and said simply, “May we meet tomorrow?”

She didn’t hesitate. “Yes, of course.”

“I shall look forward to it.”

She stood and watched him walk away, repressing the urge to run after him. Not until Mr Lanby had disappeared from sight, did she turn and march back toward the stables, not saying a word, trying desperately to understand her own feelings.

When they arrived, she turned to confront Anders. “Well, do you think he’s a proper enough gentleman?”

“He does seem pleasant enough, I will admit. But proper is as proper does. You still can’t go a-meeting him without your grandmother’s knowledge.”

“I can and I will.”

He shook his head.

“Anders - please.” Her voice broke on the word.

He sighed deeply, saw the desperation in her face and said, “Well - as long as you take me with you each time. Promise!”

“I promise.” She closed her eyes in thankfulness.

When she’d gone, he shook his head. There had been something in the way the two of them behaved - something that was going too deep too fast. He’d have to try to find out more about this Mr Lanby. He didn’t want his young mistress getting hurt.

Eleanor met Mr Lanby four times that week, with Anders accompanying them doggedly each time, in spite of all her protests and pleading. He could see the love growing between them as if it were something tangible, even if they themselves didn’t yet realize it.

The old groom lay awake at night worrying about his young lady, for she’d told him her ladyship had some disagreement with the gentleman’s family, and it seemed certain that only trouble could come from that. Yet he had to admit that the two of them did seem made for each other. Even an old bachelor like him could sense that.

But how was he to find out about the gentleman’s circumstances? All his inquiries so far had led nowhere. Mr Lanby might be staying with the Treevers, but nothing seemed to be known by the servants there about his home, his finances. Could the man offer Miss Eleanor enough to satisfy her ladyship?

Anders also began to suspect that there was some sort of secret being kept, for although Mr Lanby would talk about his home and his horses all afternoon, nice as you please, every now and then he would catch himself up in the middle of a sentence. Could he be an adventurer? He didn’t seem like one, but perhaps he was setting a trap for Miss Eleanor, who had a tidy fortune waiting for her?

These suspicions faded whenever they were with Mr Lanby, for a more open-looking face you couldn’t wish to find on anyone, but the worries came back to Anders many times in the dark hours of several anxious nights.

When the groom laid his fears squarely before Eleanor one day, she sat frowning and pulling Snowy’s ears. “He can’t be hiding anything bad,” she said eventually. “I just know he can’t, Anders!”

“So you suspect something, too, Miss?”

She hated to agree but she wouldn’t lie to him, so nodded her head.

“Miss, please be careful!”

“Yes. I will. I’ll be very careful indeed, I promise.” Then she walked away, lost in thought, heedless of the little animal left whining behind her.

Which was not, Anders decided, watching her, at all like his Miss Eleanor.

On the tenth day of this idyll, after a rainy day had prevented them meeting and left Eleanor fretting, she and her young gentleman went again to the lookout and sat there on the grassy knoll on a horse blanket, staring across the valley.

“I think,” he told her, face very solemn, “I had better confess something to you before we - before this goes any further.”

Her heart jumped in her breast, for he looked so serious, and a cold feeling crept up her spine. She knew she couldn’t bear it if anything were to separate them now, but she managed to say more calmly than she felt, “Go on.”

“I - I haven’t been quite honest with you.”

She could only stare at him. “About what?” she asked, panic filling her.

He took a deep breath. “Well, first of all - my name isn’t Christopher Lanby.” He seemed to be having trouble continuing.

“What is your name?” she prompted at last.

“It’s - Crispin.”

She gasped aloud. It was such an unusual name that she asked immediately, “Not Crispin Herforth?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“But why didn’t you tell me that at once? Why did you need to come here incognito?”

“I wanted to see my future inheritance. A few weeks ago your grandmother invited me to stay so that I could get to know Satherby. It was a – well, a rather condescending letter. That made me angry, so I refused to come straight away. But I asked the General if I could come and stay with them. I wanted to see Satherby. I’d heard so much about it.”

“Grandmamma was very angry that you didn’t come here straight away.”

“Yes. I meant her to be. I grew up hearing how fearsome she was, so apart from anything else, I didn’t want to risk a snub, or worse treatment, not in a house which would be mine one day.”

“No. I can see that. She can be difficult. Is that,” she began to fiddle with the material of her skirt, avoiding his eyes, “all you have to confess?”

“Isn’t it enough?”

Her heart lifted and she dared to steal a glance sideways. When she caught him looking at her, she said simply, “That doesn’t seem so very terrible a thing to me.” She smiled and he smiled back at her. For a moment, she would have sworn they were the only people in the whole universe. Then her expression became serious again and she added, “I realized something was worrying you, of course. You’ve been a bit quiet the last day or two.”

“Yes. And you’ve been very patient with me.”

“I was waiting for you to reveal all,” she said demurely, eyes glinting at him, “as they say in novels.”

“Minx!”

She smiled. “So now we know where we stand, do we not, Crispin?”

“Not quite. There’s something else which needs setting right.” Forgetting the attendant groom, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her soft lips, as he’d been longing to do since the first day they met.

She made no protest, only raising one hand shyly to stroke the crisp blonde hair.

“I think I’ve fallen in love with you, Eleanor Graceover,” he said abruptly, staring anxiously into her eyes.

“I should hope so, Crispin Herforth.” She smiled at him, not shyly, but showing her own feelings quite openly. “I wouldn’t like to think you kiss all the young ladies you meet in the woods in that manner.”

For answer, he kissed her again, so that the world spun crazily around her and she had to cling tightly to him. He held her close for a moment, then growled in her ear, “Nor that you kiss all the gentlemen you meet - whether in the woods or elsewhere.”

“No,” she said, with one of her very direct looks. “I’ve never kissed anyone in this way but you. And I shall never kiss any other gentleman again.”

All thoughts of flirtation had left her mind days ago and she was more concerned to verify the exact moment when he’d known he loved her and to tell him how she herself had known it as early as the second day, when she saw him waiting for her in the woods.

Neither of them remembered Anders, sitting on a fallen log some twenty paces behind them and he remained where he was, doing nothing to stop them kissing one another. His mind was greatly relieved, for he had unashamedly eavesdropped upon their conversation, not moving away until he had heard who “Mr Lanby” really was.

The heir to Satherby wasn’t out to gain Miss Eleanor’s fortune, for he would have a greater one himself. And anyway, Mr Herforth was a nice young gentleman, just right for Anders’ young lady. The only thing that really worried the groom was what the Dowager’s attitude would be to this whirlwind romance. Her ladyship had a lot of high-nosed notions about what was right and even the servants knew she considered few gentlemen remotely worthy of her granddaughter.

Still, Anders mused to himself, chewing on the stem of his unlit pipe, it was Miss Eleanor’s happiness that mattered most, not that of a bossy old woman nearing the end of her life. And so he would tell Lady Marguerite if she made trouble for these two - even if he lost his place because of it.

The lovers spent a precious half-hour telling each other exactly what had made them fall in love and stealing a kiss or two at intervals.

It was Eleanor, nothing if not practical, who said thoughtfully in the end, “I don’t know what Grandmamma is going to say to this, Crispin. She’s not at all fond of your family, you know, and she intends me to marry a gentleman of the highest breeding.” She pulled a face at the thought. “In fact, she’s been discussing marriage settlements secretly with the lawyers for months and I’m sure that’s why she’s sent poor Bea up to London, to look over the eligible suitors for me.”

She spoke rather hesitantly, for he’d said nothing to her of marriage yet, but surely she couldn’t be mistaken about where this was all leading?

The arm around her tightened. “I must see her ladyship at once, then, and tell her how we feel. You will marry me, will you not, my dearest girl? I don’t think I could bear it if you didn’t.”

She smiled radiantly at him. “Well, of course I will, silly, but,” the smile was replaced by a puckering of the brows, “I don’t think you should go and see Grandmamma! Not just yet, anyway.”

“Why ever not? Surely, even Lady Marguerite will see that it’s a very good solution to the inheritance problem? It’ll keep her precious Satherby Abbey in the family.”

Eleanor wrinkled her nose in thought. “Well, Grandmamma’s not quite like other people. She may approve eventually, if things are put to her in just the right way, but there again, she may not. You can never tell and she rarely changes her mind about people, so we must tread carefully.”