The Wicked and Wonderful Miss Merlin (10 page)

‘I told you how it would be,’ she said to Samantha when they were alone.  ‘He is determined to make me suffer.’

‘Perhaps it is me he wishes to punish,’ Samantha suggested.  ‘He did compliment you on your gown, Eleanor.’

‘Oh, it is the same as before Papa died,’ Eleanor said.  ‘I used to dread dining with him after Robert left – and now…’  A tear trickled down her cheek.  ‘He will forbid me to marry for years I know he will.’

‘I am sure he will not.’

Samantha had tried to comfort her but Eleanor had shook her head, claimed a headache and gone up to her bed before her brother came into the parlour.  When he did he’d glared at Samantha.

‘Where is my sister?’

‘She had a headache and went to bed. What do you expect when you treat her to such a display of coldness?’

He’d actually looked surprised. ‘What are you saying?  I did no such thing.’

‘You hardly spoke to either of us,’ Samantha replied. ‘While I understand that you blame me for the situation, your sister is hurt by your behaviour.  It is exactly as her father behaved to her after you left to join the army.’

‘I am not like my father…’ Robert glared at her.  ‘She would be locked in her room on bread and water if he had been the master here.’

‘That might even be preferable to being given the silent treatment.’

‘I was not punishing anyone…I was thinking…’

‘Then I pity your family when you marry. They will live in fear of displeasing you and never know whether you are in a good mood or a bad one.’

‘Damn you, madam.  Who gave you permission to lecture me…?’  Robert swore and then reached out, dragging her into his arms.  Before Samantha could react or protest, he had kissed her – so fiercely that she felt her lips bruised and pushed him away violently.

‘Sir, I think you forget yourself.  I am a guest in your house and unmarried.’

For a moment he’d stared at her with something like bewilderment in his eyes; then he turned, walked from the room and slammed the door behind him.

Samantha waited a few minutes before going up to her room.  She closed and locked the door, pressing her fingers to lips that still bore the imprint of his kiss.  Why had he done that?  Was it a form of punishment?

Trembling, she’d walked to her bed and sat down on the edge, feeling uncertain.  A part of her told her that she should flee now while she could, but another part resisted.  She would not desert Eleanor.  Robert Brough was a brute and needed to be taught a lesson.

Which she could not do hiding in her chamber.  In the morning, she would take a walk as far as the lake to compose herself and then she would beard the lion in his den.  Robert Brough must understand that his behaviour was not acceptable.

Robert woke and groaned as he felt the hammers at work in his head.  After slamming out of the parlour the previous evening, he had taken refuge in his library, where he had finished a decanter of brandy and fallen asleep on the sofa.  His back ached, his neck felt stiff and he was thoroughly ashamed of himself. What on earth had driven him to kiss her like that – as if she were to be punished rather than cherished and loved?

Leaving the library, he was on his way upstairs to his room when he changed his mind and turned, a determined gleam in his eyes as he left the house and set out in the direction of the lake.  If ever a man was in need of a cold swim it was he and it was now.

He walked briskly through the pretty gardens, seeing only the picture of a woman’s shocked face. Once he began to cross the expanse of green that led to the lake, he broke into a run.  Robert needed physical release and the thought of that cold water was beckoning.

Stripping off his clothes, he plunged naked into the water.  It was icy and took his breath away.  He struck out for the island in the middle and began to feel better, his mind clearing.  Robert was a strong swimmer and reached the wooded island easily.  He climbed out and stood looking back towards the house.  From here it was impressive, a charming picture and the place in which he wanted to spend his life…but he needed a wife to share it with him.

Robert admitted that he was tired of living alone.  After that quarrel with his father he had tended to think of women as being schemers and unnecessary, except for certain moments in bed – but now, suddenly, as if the icy water had washed his mind clean, he understood that some women were different.

Of course he had always known that; his mother had been a beautiful gentle lady, but somehow he had forgotten.  In the heat of war with the stench of blood lingering in his nostrils, he had sometimes sought a pair of soft arms to hold him through the night, but they had meant nothing to him, though some were kind enough.

He’d tried to dismiss his feelings for Samantha Merlin as being bewitched, but now he saw that they were far more.  He wanted her more than he had ever wanted a woman – but it was more than lust.  He wanted her to smile at him, to hear her laugh when he talked to her of something he found amusing…to see her eyes light up with welcome when she saw him.

Had he really terrified his sister, making her cry?  Were his silences really so terrible that Eleanor thought of him as being like their father?  Robert did not like to see himself as a cold tyrant.  Surely he had not become a cold heartless monster?

He could not deny he had a temper but as a rule he relented as soon as it was over.  Last evening he had not even been thinking of Eleanor…it was Samantha who had occupied his thoughts and made him brood.  He had he realised now, been fighting the truth, ignoring what his heart was telling him.  It was quite ridiculous.  She was irresponsible and…no, she was beautiful, enchanting and it was his fault that Eleanor had run away, because he’d informed her she would make her come out with Aunt Grace without consulting her wishes.

He must apologise to Eleanor, explain that he had no objection to her marriage, perhaps after her birthday – providing he was satisfied that Toby Brockleton was able to provide for her. Robert felt that he might like the young man once they had talked properly, and even if he didn’t, he was Eleanor’s choice and why should he deny her happiness?

Plunging back into the icy water, he stuck out for the spot where he had left his clothes.  Face down in the water, his thoughts elsewhere, he was unaware that a young woman had come to the edge of the lake and was watching him…

Samantha shaded her eyes and looked at the water.  Someone was swimming strongly.  At first she was not sure who it was but as he came closer she knew that it was Robert Brough.  She hesitated, knowing that she ought to walk on and leave him to his swim, but for some reason she did not quite understand she could not move. 

He had reached the shore and was standing now.  Goodness, had he taken all his clothes off?  She gasped as he walked out of the water and stood shaking his head.  For a moment he stood still as beautiful and perfectly formed as the marble statue of a Roman god she had once seen in a museum.

How beautiful he was!  Samantha could not take her eyes from him, even though she was aware that she was being both immodest and rude – and then he suddenly turned his head and saw her.  She felt the colour wash into her face, though there was sufficient distance between them for him not to be able to see her change colour.  Her breath caught in her throat and she felt a rush of shame.  She should have respected his privacy.  How angry he would be!

Then, incredibly, he inclined his head to her, reached down leisurely and began to dress as if he were unobserved.  She could not be certain but she thought he was smiling, amused.  Feeling embarrassed, she turned and walked away, leaving him to finish dressing in private – which was what she ought to have done at once.

What would he think of her?’

Robert walked back to the house.  He was torn between amusement and frustration.  Samantha had looked at him, seeming fascinated by the fact that he was naked…but perhaps she was merely shocked because it was the first time she had seen a naked man.  He could only hope that she would not have formed a disgust of him.  After his behaviour the previous night, she might pack her bags and leave instantly.  He hoped she would not.

He returned to the house and entered by a back door, using the servants’ stairs to gain access to his bedroom.  Robert did not wish to embarrass Samantha yet again and it might be best to avoid her for a few hours.

After shaving and changing into clean clothes, he went out and ordered his horse to be saddled.  He would visit a few neighbours and issue some dinner invitations to friends.  If they had company Eleanor and Samantha might feel more comfortable, even if Robert lapsed into thoughtful silence.  When he returned he would seek out his sister and talk to her, but in the meantime he would give Samantha time to recover her composure.

Hearing the knock at her door, Samantha drew a deep breath.  Had Robert Brough come to tell her that he no longer required her presence here?  She had behaved despicably and was thoroughly ashamed.

Opening the door, she was relieved to see Eleanor.  Her former pupil was looking a little subdued.

‘Are you ready to come down?’ she asked.  ‘I wanted to apologise for my behaviour last night.  I was very silly to run away like that.  I know that I must behave properly or Robert will think I am a foolish schoolgirl and refuse to let us marry.’

‘Your brother told me he was not angry with you, only thoughtful.  He says he is not like your father.’

‘Of course he isn’t,’ Eleanor said.  ‘Robert gets angry but he doesn’t usually sulk for days on end.  Papa would sometimes go into himself and hardly notice me for weeks at a time.  I know Robert isn’t like him but I do hate it when he looks at me as if I have disappointed him.’

‘I think he was more annoyed with me than you,’ Samantha told her. ‘Perhaps,’ Eleanor agreed. ‘I have noticed something a little odd about him since we came down – he seems to lose himself in thought…trail off in mid-sentence and it mostly happens when he is looking at you.  If I did not know better I would think…’ She shook her head.  ‘No, that is quite ridiculous.’  Pausing for a moment, she said.  ‘Do you think I should apologise to Robert?’

‘It might please him if you did,’ Samantha said.  ‘Perhaps he needs a little encouragement and then he will forgive you and be himself again.  I think it is often better to speak softly where a man is concerned, though you must never let yourself be forced into a situation you do not like.’

‘Toby is the easiest of companions,’ Eleanor said, a fond look in her eyes.  ‘He never sulks or complains, even if I do – perhaps that is why I love him so much, because he only laughs and kisses me if we disagree and then we are friends again.’

Privately, Samantha thought she might find such behaviour a little insipid, because there were times when only a good argument would clear the air.  She liked to say what she thought and give as good as she got, yet still, there were times when it was best to smile and hold your tongue – especially when one knew one was in the wrong.

She knew that she too owed Robert Brough an apology.  She would make it when he returned to the house.  The butler had old her that he would be gone for most of the day and in a way she was glad; it would give them both time to recover from their recent encounters and perhaps they could begin again.

Linking arms they left the room together and walked along the upper landing and down the wide staircase.  Both had brought a light shawl and decided to go for a walk in the gardens.  Eleanor was eager to show her all her favourite places to walk and sit and Samantha wanted to explore more of the grounds.  She had walked to the lake earlier, but this time they explored the gardens nearer to home, enjoying the chance to talk about things that had never come up before.  Eleanor had little knowledge of cooking and wanted to learn so that she would be able to instruct her cook when she was married.  Samantha numbered fine cuisine amongst her many talents and offered to show her some dishes, if her brother’s chef should not object to them using the kitchen.

‘I noticed the food was excellent last night,’ she said.  ‘I should not wish to be the cause of his departure and some of these talented people need only the slightest excuse to move.’

‘I doubt Andre would think of it,’ Eleanor said with a smile.  ‘Robert brought him here when he returned after Papa died.  He told me that he had to pay a fortune to get Andre to the country and I doubt he would find as generous an employer elsewhere.’

‘Robert likes good food then?’

‘We suffered for years with the last cook,’ Eleanor said and laughed.  ‘It was not that she was unable to cook but she was fond of the cooking sherry and sometimes we had a dinner that had been ruined or overcooked.’

‘That is unfortunate,’ Samantha said and her face lit with amusement.  ‘I should not care for that myself.’  She wondered if some of the tales the former cook told in the kitchen were quite true or embroidered to spite the employer who had turned her off in favour of a French chef.