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BOOK: Fenella J. Miller
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       It was he who drew the embrace to a halt. He untangled her arms from his neck and gently held her away. ‘Enough, my darling, we have already overstepped what’s even permissible between betrothed couples. And we’re not even that at the moment.’

       It was several minutes before Eliza felt ready to answer. She allowed the cool of the house wall to soothe her overheated body and the gentle breeze to fan her scarlet cheeks.

       ‘Fletcher, I don’t understand what happens to me when you hold me. I become a different person – am no longer in control of myself.’

       ‘It’s called passion, sweetheart. Something best enjoyed in the privacy of a bedroom – and between man and wife.’

       They heard footsteps and breathy giggles approaching and stiffened, but whoever it was passed them by, more concerned with their own clandestine meeting then looking for others doing the same.

       ‘Shall we go in for supper? ‘ Eliza was pleased her voice sounded quite normal.

       ‘Of course.’ He tucked her hand into his arm and they strolled, in complete accord, back through the French doors and into a nearly deserted drawing-room.

‘Everyone must have repaired to the supper table.’ Eliza pulled her hand free in order to smooth back her hair and shake out invisible creases from her gown.

       ‘Eliza, I shall come tomorrow to speak to your mother.’

‘So I should hope, sir,’ she relied archly, ‘after the liberties you have taken tonight.’

       He laughed out loud. ‘Baggage! Shall I ride with you first?’

       ‘Yes, please join me. Shall we go out at seven thirty- no-one will be up then.’

The matter settled to both their satisfaction they rejoined the company and when she eventually fell into her bed Eliza was incandescent with joy. Tomorrow she would become the future wife of the most wonderful man in the world. She fell asleep certain that her future was settled and all her worries were over.

 

Chapter Ten

 

The next morning was overcast and heavy rain threatened. Eliza was not deterred and headed for the stables nonetheless. A little rain had never bothered her before and the thought that Fletcher would be joining her gave her the added impetus to brave the elements. However as she reached the archway the heaven’s opened and she was forced to return, at a run, to the house. Disappointed that Fletcher would not come in the rain she wandered disconsolately to the breakfast parlour. Maybe it was an April shower and they could go out for their ride later on.

* * * *

Fletcher was halfway to Grove House when the downpour started and he too turned back. He could not present himself to Mrs Fox dripping wet. Back at the inn he hurried upstairs to speak to Wydale. He had decided to confront him about the debt and demand that he allowed the matter to be settled between them. He knocked on Wydale’s sitting-room and walked in not waiting for permission to do so.

‘Ah, there you are, Fletcher, old fellow. When the landlady told me you had gone out in this weather I could hardly credit the information. Where have you been in such a downpour?’

Fletcher closed the door behind him with slow deliberation. It was as if his eyes were finally open and he could see the man lounging before him as he truly was. There was not a spark of humanity in his face to temper the ruthlessness.

       ‘I have been to Grove House to see Miss Fox. I intend to buy back what you took from that young man. I will not let you turn them out of their house. You will sell those vowels to me, it matters not to you where the thirty thousand guineas come from; either way you’ll be rich.’

He saw the habitual sneer spread across the man’s face. ‘So that is how the land lies, is it? You have taken a shine to the older sister. Excellent. You may have her, but I intend to have the younger one.’

Fletcher felt a surge of white hot rage pour through him. He clenched his fists, holding himself in check with difficulty. He managed to keep his voice even, hiding his feelings.

‘Sarah is not available and especially not to someone like you.’

       Wydale shrugged. ‘Did you think I had not realized she’s a simpleton? I do not intend to marry the chit, merely amuse myself. She will have no need for conversation when lying flat on her back.’

Fletcher stretched forward and seized him by the throat, lifting him by one hand from his chair, sending the breakfast crockery crashing to the floor. Without a second thought his right hand swung back to smash into the grinning face of his erstwhile friend.

       The force of the blow hit Wydale’s nose with a satisfying crunch and blood splattered his white shirt front. Fletcher wanted to finish the job, to smash his face to a pulp, but somehow restrained himself. How could he ever have considered this man worthy of his friendship? He was an animal, no worse than that for animals did not deliberately misuse each other.

Unable to speak, Wydale’s eyes said it all. Never had Fletcher seen such hatred, such malevolence in a human being. He had made an implacable enemy, and despite his superior size could not prevent a shiver of apprehension slithering down his spine.

       He towered over the prostrate body. ‘If you go near Miss Fox or her sister I shall kill you.’

On impulse he turned and snatched up Wydale’s topcoat, which was hanging carelessly from the back of a chair. He reached inside and located the pocket then withdrew the envelope that contained the IOUs. Without a second thought he pushed them into his own pocket and strode out.

He would never acknowledge Wydale again and none of his friends would either. When he was next in Town he would make sure he was blackballed from all the clubs. Wydale was the ruined man now, not Edmund Fox.      

He retuned to his rooms and told Sam to pack his bags. He wished to distance himself form the vile creature in the next chambers. ‘I’m going over to Grove House. Have things ready for my return.’

       His horse had been rubbed down and was re-saddled in a jiffy by his groom, Billy.

       ‘It’s stopped raining, sir. Quite pleasant out now. You’ll not get wet again this morning.’

       ‘Thank you, Billy. I shall be back later and we shall be leaving here. I’ll let you know where we’re going when I return. But we’re not going with Lord Wydale in his carriage. I’m afraid you’ll have to make your own way back to Town.’

       Fletcher cantered down the long drive to Grove House and discovered that Eliza had already left for a belated ride. He knew exactly where she would be waiting for him – in the folly on the other side of the lake. Sure enough she was sitting inside her lovely face alight with happiness at his appearance.

After a blissful few minutes on the bench Fletcher sat back, caressing her hand. ‘My love, I have left an envelope for Edmund at the house. It contains his IOUs. He is out of debt, you no longer need to sell your shares.’

‘I don’t understand? How did you persuade him to give them up?’ She saw a flash of something dark and dangerous in his eyes, but he didn’t answer her question.

‘There are formalities to be endured.’ He grinned. ‘Is Edmund your guardian by any chance?’

       ‘What ever made you think that? He has not reached his majority. I suppose officially an uncle that I didn’t know existed until the other day, is head of the family. However I think it will suffice if we tell my mother and grandmother and anyone in your family who needs to know.’

       ‘I have no relatives I wish to inform, sweetheart. I cannot believe that you’ve agreed to marry me when you know so little about me.’

       ‘Well, now’s the time to rectify that omission. Do you really have no family? You have met all of mine, apart from Uncle Benjy, and I’ve not met him myself.’

       ‘I have a father alive, he lives in solitary splendour at Longshaw, an enormous pile of masonry in Gloucestershire. I have not spoken to him for over fifteen years and have no intention of doing so now.’

       Shocked to the core by his apparent callousness, she jumped up and moved away breaking the contact between them. ‘How can you say that? Whatever bad feeling there is between you, presumably you are his only heir and any children we might have would be his grandchildren.’

He gave a snort of derision. ‘And much he will care about that. When my mother and two older brothers died from the fever I no longer had any reason to return home. My parents married for love, a rare occurrence in the circles in which we move. However, after I was born there were complications and my parents were no longer able to share the marital bed. Another baby would have proved fatal.’

       My mother poured her frustration into loving me and my two brothers, but my father turned his frustration into hating the baby that had caused this chasm.’

       ‘How dreadful! To hate a baby which, through no fault of its own, had caused this separation. Surely, loving another human being does not rely entirely upon bedroom matters?’

       ‘You’re quite right, my dear. It does not, but for my father it was too much for him to bear; to be close to the wife he adored and not be able to share the love in a physical way. When I was seven I was sent away to a miserable school. It was there that I met Wydale, as I believe I told you before. He is two years my senior and he kept me alive during those unspeakable years.

       My father would not allow me to come home so I was obliged to spend vacations at school, although occasionally other pupils offered me refuge at their homes during the summer. Wydale was another who was rejected by his family. It seems his father believes he is not his true son, his wife played him false with her lover and he was the result.’

       ‘But he is the only son? Does that mean despite the difficulty of his conception he is his father’s heir?’

       ‘You have guessed the whole and that is where the canker lies. His father refuses to acknowledge him, and has done his best to ruin the estate and spend his inheritance. What is not entailed has been given away to charity and to distant relatives. When the earl finally turns up his toes Wydale will inherit nothing of any value apart from the title. It’s hardly surprising he’s a bitter man.’

‘You have had a similar experience and it is not turned you into a black hearted villain. You mentioned you have your own estate, shall we live there together? ‘

       ‘Indeed we shall, my darling.’ He smiled and raised his hand to smooth a stray lock of hair from her face. ‘I’m afraid that I am impossibly rich. I inherited from my maternal grandmother, and several other fortunes from childless relatives. Whatever my father’s designs, he is not in a position to bankrupt me. I am, I believe, considered to be one of the most eligible bachelors around.’

       She laughed out loud. ‘I must say, sir, for an eligible bachelor, you have made a very odd choice of bride.’

He encircled her neck, pulling her towards him and she went willingly into his arms. After several wonderful minutes he released her, holding her face in his strong hands, to place a final kiss on her lips.

       ‘I have told you before, you’re a truly beautiful woman, both inside and out. You have a figure that is voluptuous, and if I could persuade you to grow your hair, you would look like a Greek goddess.’

       ‘A very tall Greek goddess; most women of my acquaintance are dark and dainty and they look at me as a freak show. I believe that is why I was happy to abandon dresses for britches when I took over running the estate on my father’s death.’

       ‘Well, I hope you will use your expert knowledge to assist me when we’re wed. I have little knowledge of estate management and you shall be my guide.’ His lips travelled lightly up her face and his eyes burned with something she now recognized as passion.

‘And I shall be your guide in other matters if you will let me?’

They cantered back to Grove House full of expectation and wonder. They had decided a long engagement would be pointless, they knew their own minds even after so short a time. Eliza had pointed out that she was approaching her quarter-century and would like to be married before she reached that milestone.

       ‘I am ten years your senior, my dear, and it is high time I set up my nursery. So we’re agreed? We shall be married as soon as we can persuade your mama.’ He smiled at her.

 She loved the way his eyes crinkled up at the corners; he was not a classically handsome man, not like her brother, but to her he was everything she had ever wanted. A sudden interesting, and indelicate thought, occurred to her.      

‘You mentioned you’re eager to set up your nursery, Fletcher. Can you imagine what our children will be like? We shall be accused of creating a race of giants.’

       His roar of laughter sent his spirited stallion skittering sideways and by the time he had restored calm they were in the stable yard and the conversation ceased. They were met by the coachman and the two grooms, their faces pinched with concern.

       "Whatever’s wrong? Has there been bad news?’

       ‘You’d best go in, miss, there’s a panic in the house. Sarah and Jane went out more than two hours ago and have not returned.’

       Fletcher was beside her and lifted her from the saddle. ‘I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about, my love, they’re probably visiting friends.’

       Eliza knew this could not be the case. When Jane took Sarah into the village they always followed a strict routine. They walked to the church, no more than a mile’s distance, to place flowers on Papa’s grave and then to the baker’s to buy a cake. That was all and they were always back in less than an hour and a half. If they had been gone for two hours something must be wrong.

       She burst into the drawing-room, to see Edmund kneeling at his mother’s side, stroking her hands, and trying to offer comfort.

       He looked up at her sudden entrance, his face pale. He signalled to them to go back out in order to converse in private. Once they were safely in the library Edmund told them what he knew.

 

Chapter Eleven

 

‘I have already visited the churchyard and the flowers they took are on the grave so Sarah and Jane definitely went there. When I checked at the baker’s, they hadn’t called in and no one saw them after they entered the churchyard.’

BOOK: Fenella J. Miller
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