Lily and the Lion (13 page)

BOOK: Lily and the Lion

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"No, do not speak just yet," he forestalled her. "Let me finish. As for the hallucinations, they are represented by the nonsensical visions conjured up by supposing that Jasper would allow
me—a
total stranger and very likely a libertine like all the rest—to take his innocent sister to my home in distant Hampshire, which very likely is a positive den of iniquity."

Lily could not believe her ears. "What an
odd
man you are, my lord," she said, laughing. "You offer such a wonderful opportunity to this young woman, then you couch the offer in such horrid terms her poor brother cannot possibly know what to think or what to do!"

"Well, I know what to think
and
what to do!" Belle announced. "I will accept your offer without hesitation, because no one so kind as you, my lord, and married t'so kind a lady as
this,
could be a libertine!'' She dried the last despiteful tear from her eye and vigorously blew her nose into Lord Ashton's handkerchief. Then, as if it were a triumphant gesture declaring the return of her courage and intention to meet life as an independent woman, she handed back the borrowed item.

Lord Ashton's lips quivered slightly as he gazed askance upon the deplorably wet and rumpled handkerchief. Once again, Lily was hard-pressed to maintain her composure. "Do keep the handkerchief, Miss TXipper," he said graciously. "I've a thousand of them. But I must tell you something. Firstly, Miss Clarke is not my wife. And secondly, the logic you used to bring yourself to the conclusion that I am
not
a libertine utterly escapes me. I could be trying to entrap you, foolish child!"

"Well, which't way is it?" exclaimed Jasper, exasperated by what he probably considered to be high-flown roundaboutation.
"Are
you a libertine
ox ain't
you? I wish't ye'd talk straight fer once't, milord!"

Jasper's honestly spoken words seemed to affect Lord Ashton quite strongly. The look of slightly smug humour fled from his face and a serious expression appeared. "Yes, Jasper, for once I shall 'talk straight.' Belle has nothing to fear from me. From whence the urge came to offer her a position in my house as a servant, I haven't the slightest idea. But I think she could be very happy there, well-fed, well recompensed for her duties, and amid kind people of high moral standards. In fact, she might find herself a bit stifled by all the doting attention she'd receive as soon as Mrs. Strand, my housekeeper, discovered that Belle is without a mother. Even were I inclined to seduce your sister, I should not be able to do so with so many eagle-eyed retainers at my house who have known me since I was in long clothes, and who used to box my ears whenever I was naughty!''

"And
I
can vouchsafe him, too," Lily offered spontaneously. "You see, if Lord Ashton were a libertine, he'd probably have tried to seduce
me
by now. He had every opportunity last night when we ate alone in the parlour at The Pig and Thistle."

Jasper and Belle looked slightly askance at these confessions, as though they hardly knew how to respond. Certainly they were confused about Lily's relationship to the viscount, and likely wondering how she happened to be travelling with him if she were not his wife.

At their ludicrous expressions, Lily choked on a little laugh and said, "I perceive that further explanations are in order. But it's so cold here, and I see that Bob and the other fellows have righted your carriage. And the wheel is as sound as ever it was before. Perhaps you had ought to meet us at the next inn and we can discuss Belle's future employment over a steamy dish of tea?" Then, belatedly remembering that Lord Ashton should be consulted on matters which directly affected him, such as the procurement of a new servant for his home in Hampshire, Lily enquired meekly, "Do you approve, Lord Ashton?"

A breeze caught the golden strands of hair that escaped from beneath the brim of his curly beaver hat and gently blew them across Lord Ashton's forehead. One tawny brow lifted in a mocking salute and his eyes brimmed with sly amusement. "And would it matter very much if I didn't?"

Lily thought about this for a moment, then answered, "You must know, my lord, I very much prefer having your approval than not! However, if you withhold your approval in this case I shall still try to convince you to see things my way. Papa says it is a fault of mine to be so stubborn!"

Lord Ashton laughed out loud, and the deep-timbred sound warmed Lily's blood. "Baggage!" he exclaimed with energy. "Get back to your patient, if you please!"

Lily started back to the carriage most willingly, for she knew now just exactly what he'd do. He turned to Jasper. "Do you agree to meet me at The Black Swan in Kempe's Corner, Mr. Tupper? It seems we are not destined to remain strangers, after all."

Jasper, never much of a gabster, was made still more inarticulate by the unforeseen and rapidly moving events of the past half-hour. "Aye, milord."

"Very good, Mr. Tupper. Well, and what are all of
you
waiting for?" the viscount could be heard shouting with good-humoured alacrity at his gaping servants, all of whom were standing about in a seeming stupor. "Let's get this circus caravan on the road!"

Coachmen and grooms scrambled back onto their boxes, and the gig and both coaches resumed their journey towards their mutual assignation at The Black Swan.

* * *

B
ELLE'S FUTURE
was decided over a nuncheon at The Black Swan that consisted of cold chicken, warm, crusty bread, red-currant jelly, sharp cheese and hot tea. Lord Ashton and Lily had supported Peter as he slowly walked inside to sit, eat, and finally to doze in front of the brisk fire that burnt in the parlour grate. Lord Ashton introduced him to the Tuppers first, of course, and the brother and sister were pleased to make the acquaintance of a young man who'd fought so admirably in the War. They were also relieved to understand that Lily was a vicar's daughter and travelling in Lord Ashton's entourage as Peter's nurse.

Pleshy and Janet ate with the other servants in the taproom, far away from Sebastian's nose-tickling fur. Sebastian seemed to have quickly developed a strong devotion to Peter, and had accompanied him inside the inn and was lying in the invalid's lap as he dozed by the fire. Sebastian's purring presence had a calming effect on Peter, which proved to be more conducive to sleep than the syrup of poppies, and without the drugging effects of the opiate. Though the more natural consequences of Sebastian's comfort could be found in the shed fur upon their clothes, no one seemed to mind except for Pleshy, whose task it was to brush his lordship's and Peter's coats, sneezing all the while.

Soon after nuncheon, Jasper trotted off to carry the bad tidings to Mr. Grampton that Belle would not be his bride, after all. He hoped the fellow would take the news well and not perhaps be tempted to bandy Belle's name about the village in a disrespectful manner. If he were so foolish as to do so, Jasper would certainly have to plant the fellow a facer. And, as he confided to Lord Ashton, he would not particularly relish sending to ground a decrepit old man who'd run to fat. It would not be sportsmanlike, no matter how necessary the action. Lord Ashton readily commiserated with him, and joined with Jasper in hoping that Mr. Grampton behaved himself.

When Jasper returned, he reported that though Mr. Grampton had ranted and raved at first, waving a large, sharp knife in one hand and a leg of mutton in the other, he had settled himself quickly enough and taken his disappointment in stride. And when Jasper explained how he would deal with the sort of sordid gossip that might be started by a jilted bridegroom, Mr. Grampton immediately agreed not to complain of any sort of ill-usage at the hands of his former fiancee.

Shortly thereafter, Jasper prepared to leave. He kissed Belle and muttered a tender, gruff goodbye, then promised Lord Ashton that he would visit Ashton House in a month's time to see how Belle got on, to make sure she was happy and being treated well, et cetera. Lord Ashton commended this plan and, from all that Jasper observed, his lordship did not betray a smidgen of the guilt which might be expected to be seen in the debauched expression of a libertine. And if he was not altogether sure about Lord Ashton, Jasper trusted Miss Clarke implicitly. Her innate goodness ensured that his sister would be both safe and well-treated. He felt certain that Belle had found a friend in the little vicar's daughter.

At the moment of departure, Belle stepped into the carriage with Pleshy and Janet, the one welcoming her with an abundance of French hospitality, the other looking sulky and displeased. As they rattled through town, they passed the butcher shop that was owned by Mr. Grampton. He stood outside on his front step as they trundled slowly past, a heavy scowl on his jowly face. Just as Belle had described him, he was round as a kettle, bald and wrinkled.

Lily was heartily sorry for Mr. Grampton and was tempted to request of Lord Ashton that they stop the carriage so that she might step down and speak a few comforting words, mixed, of course, with a strong reprimand for attempting to wed so young a girl as Belle. But when she looked at Lord Ashton, his expression made her almost suppose that he knew exactly what she was thinking and that he had no intention of pandering to another of her starts. Besides, after his kind and gracious offer to employ Belle and actually convey her to his estate in Hampshire, Lily dared not press her luck.

Lily picked at the little nubs of wool that had balled on her mittens and puzzled hard. What an enigma Lord Ashton was! What had made him behave so compassionately towards Belle? For as much as Lily had wanted to help the girl out of her dreadful situation, it had never occurred to her to suggest that Lord Ashton take so personal an interest in her. Did he regret his decision? By the grim look of him now, she thought he did.

"Don't cudgel your brain, my dear."

At the sound of Lord Ashton's low-spoken advice, Lily looked up. Peter was already asleep, and this must account for the viscount's whispering, but the slightly breathy tone of his deep voice made her arms erupt into gooseflesh. And the way he was looking at her didn't help a bit. The golden eyes were fixed on her in an intense, but tender gaze.

"What do you mean, my lord?"

"I mean I don't think you should try to understand why I did what I did today, or wonder if it heralds some transformation in my character, or if it means that I'm likely to do something of the same nature again. I don't even know myself… But you can be sure of one thing—old habits are hard to break. I have been accustomed for some time now to mistrust and keep my distance from my fellow man. Don't expect too much of me. I fear you may only be disappointed."

This little speech was delivered in a slightly sarcastic tone and with a small, self-derisive smile. Then Lord Ashton quite effectively removed the possibility of Lily pursuing further conversation by retreating behind his hat for another snooze, or at least the appearance of one.

Lily stared at Lord Ashton till a strong surge of longing flooding through her chest made her look away in confusion. She'd wanted to touch the viscount's firm lips and caress his lean jaw to remind herself that he was indeed flesh and blood and not a statue, as his cool-as-marble demeanour seemed to suggest.

But she knew he was far more than a statue, for she'd seen the warm spirit of humanity he strove to hide beneath his implacable and elegant exterior. And she could not help but expect a great deal from him, for she'd recognized the immense potential he possessed for doing good. She wanted with all her heart to help Lord Ashton embrace a philanthropic life. She anticipated with satisfaction how much the people around him would enjoy the benefits of his kindness. But a little voice inside her whispered something more—a poor, desperate voice that made the longing recur with a twist of pain. It said how wonderful, how truly wonderful it would be to share such a life with such a man.

CHAPTER SEVEN

D
USK STOLE OVER
the Surrey countryside, casting the golden glow of sunset on the thatched roof of The Queen's Arms, a small, respectable inn situated in the south end of Cranbrook. After nuncheon at The Black Swan, Lord Ashton's "circus caravan" had not stopped again till Peter politely complained that he felt absolutely pulled to pieces from bumping about in the carriage all day. Lord Ashton immediately ordered his horsemen to stop at the next town and its first decent inn.

Lily had just returned from Peter's room, where she had cajoled him into eating a very small dinner. His appetite was all but gone, he was flushed and a little warm, and he seemed much more tired today than he'd been the previous afternoon. She was worried about him, but knew that his symptoms were probably just the accumulated effects of sheer exhaustion. She herself was in perfect health, yet still felt the bruising shock of an extended journey over weather-beaten roads. She hoped a good night's rest would restore Peter to greater stamina for the last leg of their trip on the morrow.

Janet, obviously in a bit of a pet, sat on the edge of Lily's bed, swinging her wooden leg back and forth like a restless child in Sunday school. Lily sat beside her on the quilted counterpane that covered the narrow bed. She stroked the long braid of blond hair that fell down Janet's back. "What's the matter, Janet?" she asked her.