In the Wake of the Wind (14 page)

She nodded, wiping her eyes on her napkin.

“I’m sorry for that, and I’m sorry for your distress. I wish to hell that your aunt had prepared you better for this marriage, but she didn’t.”

“She prepared me perfectly well for marriage,”
Serafina
said. “She just didn’t prepare me for you.”

“That is more than clear,” Aiden replied, trying to keep his face impassive as anger battled with hurt. “But you can’t blame me for that.”

She looked down, her lashes heavy on her cheek, glistening wetly. “No. I can’t. I have only myself to blame for expecting someone else.”

Aiden pressed his palm against his forehead as if he could suppress his frustration.
“Serafina,”
he said, “neither of us is to blame. We were both unwitting pawns in someone else’s game. But we might as well make the best of what we have. And to that end I’m trying to find a way to make you comfortable.”

“How?” she said, raising tear-stained eyes that pulled at his heart. “How can you
possibly
make me comfortable, knowing how I feel?”

He wasn’t sure himself. He felt more helpless than he ever had in his life. He knew almost nothing about her, only that she came to him ignorant in the ways of his world, that if it wasn’t for the station of her birth she might easily be a simple village girl after all.

How did one go about training a young woman for her position without making her feel impossibly inadequate in the process? How did he gain her trust so that at least he could make some headway? What he desperately needed was information about her, and he wasn’t going to get anything sensible out of Elspeth Beaton, that much was certain.

In that moment Tinkerby unexpectedly stumbled through the door like a God-given solution, carrying a platter of lamb and vegetables.

“T
inkerby!” Serafina
exclaimed in strong relief, thrilled to see an ally suddenly appear out of nowhere. She quickly wiped her eyes so that he wouldn’t see she’d been crying. “What are you doing here?”

“Don’t know where else I should be, my lady,” he said with a big grin. “I’m not accustomed to being idle, you know, and there’s not enough staff about this great big place to keep it going as it should.”

He placed the already carved platter of lamb on the sideboard and removed the soup bowls, groaning a little as he bent over. “So I told that Mr. Plum that I’d been serving you all my life and I wasn’t about to stop now, especially when you needed a friendly face around you in your new home. Got myself a suit of livery and took the platter right out of his hand, I did.”

“Well, I’m very happy to see you,” she said, qualifying the thought in her head as she took in his costume, the green and silver uniform of the Townsend footmen looking ridiculous on his bent old body, his legs even more obviously bowed in the clocked stockings, his balding head covered in powder.

She was about to formally introduce Tinkerby when Aiden did the job himself. “I confess I’m pleased to have an opportunity to meet you at last, Tinkerby,” Aiden said, standing. To Serafina’s astonishment he warmly shook Tinkerby’s hand.

“And I can say the same to you, your lordship. Thought you was never going to send for Miss
Serafina
—her ladyship as she is now, and high time too.”

“There was a little mix-up in communication,” Aiden said smoothly, sitting down again. “But now that that’s all been taken care of, I expect everything will progress as it should from here on out.”

“It does my old bones good to hear you say it, my lord,” Tinkerby said, shooting a satisfied look at
Serafina.
“We don’t want anything more going amiss, especially not on this happy night. I thought for a moment that you wouldn’t have a bride at all from the way she was carrying on this morning. Nearly gave me heart palpitations, it did.” He glared at
Serafina
as if she were a naughty child.

“Oh, I wasn’t too concerned,” Aiden said. “I expect the sight of my face just gave her a shock.
Serafina
tells me she was anticipating someone a bit more, um,
docile
in appearance.”

Tinkerby gave a great crack of laughter. “Nothing docile about you, my lord, that’s for certain. Took her right in hand, you did, and that’s as it should be.”

If
Serafina
could have reached him, she’d have given her dear friend a swift kick. Instead she looked expectantly toward the lamb, hoping Tinkerby would remember his duties and refrain from making any more ill-advised remarks.

Much to her relief, Tinkerby shuffled back to the sideboard and prepared two plates, depositing them in front of Aiden and herself, and she heaved a small sigh of relief that she hadn’t been expected to serve herself during this course. The soup had been disaster enough, but really, she couldn’t think how she was supposed to manage at that angle.

Tinkerby refilled Aiden’s glass and pushed the decanter close to his hand. “There we go, my lord. I’ll leave you in peace now. Enjoy your meal and you just ring if you require anything else.”

“Actually,” Aiden said, regarding Tinkerby with an expression that
Serafina
couldn’t read to save her life, “there is one thing. I’m in need of a valet, and my wife informs me that you have worked in all capacities. Since you obviously plan to stay on here at Townsend, I wondered if you would be willing to take on the job?”

Serafina
gaped at Aiden, looking for the trick in his offer.

“Me, a valet?” Tinkerby said after a moment. “I’ve never been a valet, although I can probably pick up the way of it soon enough. But are you sure you don’t want to hire someone more practiced?”

“I think I’d be a disappointment to anyone more practiced,” Aiden said. “I’m not in the habit of changing clothes more than once or twice a day, and I don’t live a very social life. What I really require is someone who can perform a decent shave and keep track of my belongings.”

“Oh, I can shave you well enough, I expect,” Tinkerby said with a grunt. “After all, I’ve shaved myself every day for the last fifty years or so. You might have to put up with a nick or two in the beginning, though.”

“A small price,” Aiden said equitably. “Good. Why don’t you begin this evening? Let someone else play footman and take yourself up to my bedchamber. You’ll find everything you need.”

“Will you be wanting me to lay out your nightclothes, my lord?” Tinkerby asked blandly, and
Serafina
nearly choked.

“Just my nightshirt. You’ll find it in the dressing room off the bedroom.”

“Very good,” Tinkerby said. “I’ll tell Mr. Plum about your orders and get right on with the task at hand.”

“Thank you.” Aiden turned his attention to his food.

Serafina
watched him for a moment, thoroughly confused. Aiden looked as if he hadn’t done anything the least out of the ordinary, as if he asked weathered old men with no experience to be valet to an earl every day of the week. She was thrilled for Tinkerby, since a position as valet would lighten the old man’s chores considerably, but she knew perfectly well that Aiden would have been better off with someone trained.

He glanced up and met her eyes with a gleam of amusement. “Why are you staring at me?” he asked. “Do you have a problem with my employing Tinkerby in this capacity?”

“No …”
Serafina
said, tearing her gaze away from his. “I’m grateful, actually. But why did you do it, Aiden?” she said on a rush. “What possessed you?”

He shrugged. “As I said, I need a valet. I left my own behind in Barbados and I’m lamentably bad at looking after myself.”

“But Tinkerby? I love him dearly, but you must know he’s not suited to the job.”

“How would you know?” he asked, his eyes alight with laughter. “You’ve never had a valet.”

“No,” she retorted sharply, “nor a lady’s maid either. But that’s not the point. I remember enough from my life with my father to know that Tinkerby isn’t the usual sort of gentleman’s gentleman.”

“But, sweetheart, you keep telling me I’m no gentleman,” he pointed out reasonably, his brilliant blue eyes dancing. “Doesn’t it then follow that I don’t need a gentleman to look after me?”

“Oh, you are impossible,” she said. “You know exactly what I mean.” She raised her glass to her lips and drank, still wondering what Aiden was really up to.

“Yes, I believe I do. Suffice it to say that I like Tinkerby; he’s a refreshing change from the usual pompous sort who hire themselves out as valets. I imagine we’ll do very nicely together as long as he doesn’t scar me in the process of educating himself.”

Serafina
couldn’t help smiling. The idea of Tinkerby taking a razor to Aiden’s infuriatingly handsome face was hugely appealing. She could just see Aiden now, little bits of bloody paper stuck all over his lean cheeks. “You are brave, my lord,” she said. “I hope you don’t regret your decision.”

“I’ll let you know.” He tilted his head and regarded her intently. “Seriously,
Serafina,
I thought you’d be pleased. Tinkerby is obviously very close to you if he walked you down the aisle,” he said, stifling a smile in his napkin. “And I honestly think he’ll be a great deal more attractive in his own clothes. I’m not sure I could keep a straight face looking at him every day dressed up like a clown in the circus.”

Serafina
burst into laughter. “The thought occurred to me too. Poor Tinkerby. He did look a little silly.” Her smile faded as an alarming thought struck her. “You really did hire him to please me, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” he said simply. “I did. I thought you’d be happier knowing that he’d be looked after. I’m really not very demanding, and this way Tinkerby will have a little position downstairs. He’s too old to have to deal with the hierarchy of the household, and on top of that he deserves a reward for having looked after you so loyally for so long.”

Serafina
almost—almost—found herself liking Aiden. “Thank you,” she said, the words sticking in her throat. It wasn’t easy to have to be grateful to Aiden for anything. But she was willing to accede the point to him for Tinkerby’s sake.

“My pleasure,” he said easily, reaching for the decanter.

Serafina
watched him as he lifted it, the candlelight flickering over his strong profile, his eyes lowered, focused on his task. Her gaze fell to his well-shaped hand, the fingers long and slender, the curve of his palm gripped around the crystal as he refilled her glass. She barely remembered drinking the first one.

She’d never consumed wine before, which probably accounted for the increase in her heartbeat, a breathlessness in her throat. And she felt light-headed, as if her focus was slipping away from her.

He placed the decanter back on the table and picked up his knife and fork again. Serafina’s eyes hypnotically followed the movement of his hand as it lifted a forkful of lamb, watched as he brought his glass to his full, sensual mouth and drank. Her gaze lifted to his lean cheeks, covered in the finest of dark shadow, only made more dramatic by the sharp slant of the light that played on them.

Serafina
drew in a quick breath and forced her attention to her own plate. But the food had lost its appeal. Her hands drifted to her lap, caught up the napkin placed there, squeezing it hard as she tried to still the erratic beating of her heart.

Aiden glanced up, meeting her eyes, and images flooded her mind involuntarily, images of another time, another place when a man she had loved had lifted a glass in just that manner, when his hand, just as finely made, had reached out to clasp hers in his own and stroked her fingers.

Only then the glass had been a goblet of gold. And the face that had smiled down on her own had been different, his eyes dark and clear. But they held the same expression as Aiden’s did now, a sensual expression of promise.

She realized that Aiden held her hand in his, that he was stroking her fingers in the same manner.

Something hot came over her, flooding her body with molten fire and she felt dizzy, disoriented. She passed a hand over her face, trying to bring herself back into the present, trying to still the familiar, longed-for voice she heard inside her head. “Sarah? Sarah, what is it, my love?”

She shook her head hard, thinking she was losing her mind. It was Aiden’s voice. Just Aiden’s voice, coming to her from a distance.
“Serafina?”
he repeated, and his words rung in her ears. “What is it, sweetheart?”

She managed to look up at him, his face swimming before her eyes, the gold hair shading into black, his brown eyes transfigured into sapphire blue.

“Nothing,” she managed to gasp. “It’s nothing. I think I must have had too much to drink.”

“You’ve only had one glass, but then wine always did go to your head,” he said with a little smile.

Serafina’s head shot up. “What?” she said, jolted.
How
could he know that?
she thought with true alarm, still caught in the fog that threatened to engulf her.

“I said that you’ve never been able to drink very much. …” He shook his head hard, then passed a hand over his face as if he was as confused as she was. “What I meant is that you must have lived an austere life up until now. You’re obviously not accustomed to spirits of any kind.”

She nodded, her head swimming, trying to make sense of his words. “I expect you’re right.”

“I know I’m right,” he said, standing. “You’re looking pale. Would you like me to take you up to bed?”

She nodded, pressing her fist against her forehead. “I’m—I’m sorry. Silly of me, I know. I feel most dreadfully dizzy.”

He helped her to her feet and without bothering to ask her permission he picked her up in his arms, carrying her out of the dining room, through the hall and up the stairs.
Serafina
rested her head against his shoulder, her arms holding fast around his neck as her dizziness only increased.

She heard his voice again as he laid her down on the bed and she struggled for a moment, not sure where she was, even who she was.

“Be still,” he murmured. “I’ll look after you. You have nothing to fear.”

You have nothing to fear.
She knew she’d heard the words before somewhere, somewhere when she’d been safe and protected, truly loved.

Time
will run
back and fetch the age of
gold…

He moved away and she pressed her cheek into the pillow, the fog beckoning to her, calling her to a place of sanctuary, and she finally stopped fighting and gave herself over to the peace of surrender, to Adam who stood like a shadowy figure in the swirling mist. She’d been waiting for so long. Love and longing welled up in her, bringing her closer, ever closer to him. There was no Aiden any longer, only Adam, Adam who waited for her too.

Time will run
back and fetch the age of
gold…