Velvet Bond (30 page)

She turned toward the river to hide her reaction. She knew Raynor would not be glad of her sympathy. He was too proud a man. “We should get started,” she said, wiping a hand over her damp brow. “It is hot.”

They started down the path, woman, child and man. Raynor continued to lead the horse that followed docilely behind them, the reins tucked under his arm. Crickets chirped in the dry grass as they passed, and the sound was strangely soothing. A peaceful quiet settled between them.

Almost like a family, Elizabeth thought.

She stopped herself. She was allowing her fantasy to go too far. She only set herself up for heartache by expecting too much. Better to take whatever Raynor might be able to give.

Suddenly she was too aware of the perspiration trickling between her shoulder blades and the tiredness in her limbs. If only her relationship with this man were not such a constant battle.

Gratefully Elizabeth moved into the shade of the trees that grew along the slow moving river. Once inside the stand of oak, beech and walnut, she felt as if she had entered another world.

The presence of the trees and water cooled the air by at least ten degrees. And there was a peaceful stillness in the glade. The only sounds were those of an occasional bird’s song, or a butterfly fluttering softly over the tops of purple irises and yellow tulips. The water was clear, but not too deep, and the ground was covered in a soft bed of grass and moss.

Elizabeth could see why this spot was a favorite one among the occupants of Warwicke. They often came here for swimming and fishing.

If she hadn’t been so occupied with worrying over her relationship with Raynor, she might have come sooner herself. Elizabeth sent a surreptitious glance toward her husband.

Raynor was setting Willow down upon the soft carpet of green. He seemed unaware of his wife as he spoke softly to his chattering daughter, and Elizabeth felt a twinge of loneliness. His deep brown eyes were soft with care and amusement when he looked down into her little face, which was lit with pleasure at being with her father.

His love for Louisa was evident in the love he showed their child.

What would it be like for Raynor to love her as he had Louisa? Elizabeth’s mind could not call up such an image.

Knowing she was not helping herself by thinking of anything so ridiculous, she set the picnic basket on the ground. Then she busied herself spreading the blanket, listening to their quiet conversation while they moved off toward the river together, obviously forgetting her presence.

Unaccountably, she found herself blinking back tears.

She told herself not to be foolish. She should be glad Raynor and Willow were growing so close. That was as it should be.

But she couldn’t help wishing that she was a part of their closeness.

Resolutely she turned to unload the basket.

Surely they would come back hungry.

But before she had even finished opening the lid, she felt a hand on her arm. She looked up into Willow’s merry brown eyes. “Elizabeth, may I wade in the water? Papa said I must ask.”

Elizabeth looked over the child’s head, with its halo of golden-brown curls, then up into the eyes of the man who stood behind her. He was smiling, his face more relaxed than she had ever seen it. Her heart gave a lurch of longing at that smile.

Taking a breath to calm her racing pulse, Elizabeth turned back to Willow, nodding. “Of course, sweeting, but be careful not to go out too far. I've heard the water is deep in the middle.”

Willow danced away excitedly.

Raynor moved to take her place, and as Elizabeth looked up, her gaze locked with his. Into the resulting stillness, he spoke softly. “Why don’t you join us? Then you can be certain there is no danger.”

Elizabeth waved at the basket, flushing. “I... You don’t really need me. You are Willow’s father. I'm sure you can keep her from harm.”

For a moment Raynor made no reply, but then he held out his hand. “Come. We do need you. Not for Willow’s sake, but for mine. I wish to spend some time with you.”

Swallowing hard, Elizabeth stared up at him. What did he mean?

She told herself not to read more into what he was saying than a simple invitation. But the warm welcome and, yes, desire in his gaze made that difficult. His eyes were like a dark but strangely inviting night.

Almost without volition, Elizabeth placed her hand in his. She rose to follow him, and to her surprise he did not release her hand, but tucked it close to his side.

The contact with the warmth of his body caused a delicious shiver to run up her arm, then down her spine. She glanced up at Raynor and found him watching her with a knowing grin.

She blushed, turning to Willow, where she waited at the edge of the river, her shoes and hose a disordered pile on the mossy bank.

To Elizabeth’s further surprise, Raynor sat down and began to remove his own footwear. She watched him as he pulled his hose down, for a moment exposing the long, muscular length of his thigh, before his tunic covered him again. Her breath caught, and her heart began to hammer in an erratic rhythm.

He glanced up at her, this time seemingly oblivious of her reaction. “Are you not going to join us?”

Willow grabbed her hand, her feet patting the ground in an uneven rhythm. “Yes, yes, Elizabeth, you too.”

“But it’s been years,” she countered helplessly.

“All the more reason to do so,” Raynor told her, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“I'll get my gown soaked.”

He moved toward her, grabbing up the ends of her trailing cote. Artfully he began to tie the garment about her waist. “If we fix it like so, it will be fine,” he said, then backed away to examine his handiwork. “And even if you do get wet,” he added with a matter-of-fact shrug, “’twill dry soon enough in this heat.”

Elizabeth recognized the reckless side of his nature taking over. Even though there was no danger in wading in the river, the idea appealed to the unconventional in him.

Without even knowing why she was doing so, Elizabeth nodded. “Yes, I will come wading.”

With the decision made, she wasted no time in ridding herself of her own hose and shoes.

As she stood, Willow took Elizabeth’s hand, clutching it tightly. Obviously the little girl was a bit nervous, as well as excited about what she was about to do. Elizabeth gave her tiny fingers a gentle squeeze of reassurance.

Thinking to help allay the child’s fears, Elizabeth stepped in first. She gasped in surprise as the chilly water swirled about her ankles. “'Tis...very cool.” She looked up to see Raynor’s amused expression.

Raynor waded in next, with a husky chuckle. “Aye, but not too cool. We shall be accustomed in only a moment.”

Elizabeth was already discovering the truth of his words. She turned to Willow, urging her to step in. “Just come slowly.”

Her eyes dancing with a mixture of joy and fear, Willow dipped her toes in the water, then jumped in. Water sprayed up to dot the other two, and they all laughed aloud.

The memory of the next hour was to become one of the most precious of Elizabeth’s life.

Raynor was warm and playful, as she’d never seen him, splashing both her and Willow with gleeful abandon.

Elizabeth had to repay him in kind, and they ended with all of them getting quite soaked.

When Elizabeth deemed they had had enough of the water, she had to lure them out with reminders that lunch awaited them on shore.

Because they were now wet from the splashing, Raynor suggested they move the blanket out into the sun. Readily Elizabeth agreed.

The three of them feasted on bread, cheese, meat and watered wine. They ate with a hearty relish born of their play in the river.

Willow finished her portion quickly. Then, giving a beatific smile, she settled back on the blanket to sleep.

By now their clothing had dried in the heat of the July sun, and Raynor carefully pulled the blanket into the shade. He smiled down at his daughter as he did so, saying, “Her skin is so fair. I would not have her burned.”

This time, Elizabeth felt no twinge of loneliness, for she felt as if she were part of them.

It was this sense of belonging that gave her the courage to ask Raynor a question as he settled back on the blanket beside her. “Was Louisa fair, as Willow is?”

He stretched out on his back, pillowing his head on his bent arm. He stared into the treetops for so long that Elizabeth thought he was not going to answer. Then, softly, he said, “Aye, she was. Willow’s coloring is just as her mother’s.”

Elizabeth knew an incredible surge of happiness. Raynor had answered her. This was the first time he had spoken of anything personal without anger prodding him on.

Mayhap this day did mark a change in their relationship, though she did not know what might have brought the change about. Could the mistake he had made about her and Bronic the previous day have taught him a lesson? Was Raynor ready to try to make a marriage with her? To trust?

Good sense told Elizabeth not to question too much, but to enjoy this moment while she could. It might not last.

Knowing this could be her one chance to tell Raynor some of the things she most dearly wanted to say, Elizabeth spoke. “Louisa was a fool, you know. Not to have married you was a frightful mistake on her part.”

He grew incredibly still, not looking at her. “What do you mean?”

She bit her lip, hoping she had not hurt him, but needing to say the things in her heart. “I mean she could have saved you so much grief in making you her husband and Willow’s legitimate father.”

He spoke softly, and Elizabeth thought she heard a note of disappointment in his voice. “I see you think of the child. No doubt you are right, but I have claimed her as I aught, so there is no use wishing Louisa had wed me to make the babe legitimate.” He turned to Willow, and Elizabeth could hear the love in his tone, even though she couldn’t read his face. “I could care for the child no more if I had been wed to her mother.”

Taking a deep breath, Elizabeth urged herself on, to say what she really wanted to. “I mean not only for Willow, but for you. It was wrong of her to hurt you so. You are a good and loving father, and would have made her a husband such as women dream of. She was a fool to reject your love.”

There, she had said it. Would he guess how much of her own feelings were behind the words? Would he see how much she had come to care for him?

Slowly Raynor rose up to face her, his expression carefully blank. Why was Elizabeth speaking to him this way? She seemed almost angry with Louisa for not having loved him. Though he searched hard, there was nothing in her face to mark the emotions behind her words.

But he knew he had to explain something to Elizabeth, to make her understand how it had been between himself and Louisa. He began hesitantly. “Elizabeth, you have some misconception of Louisa’s and my relationship. There was no love between us, as you imagine. It was more as a brother and sister that we cared for each other. We had known one another since early childhood. My parents cared little what Bronic and I did, so long as we caused them no trouble. We wandered the wood between here and Harrington at will. It was there, in the forest, that we met Louisa and Nigel. She was Bronic’s age, just two years younger than my eleven, and Nigel was thirteen.” For once there was no hatred in his voice when he spoke the other man’s name. “We became fast friends, the four of us.” He frowned. “Though even then, Nigel seemed somewhat jealous of her. He was ever challenging Louisa to do some dangerous feat. I suppose it was her inheritance, even then. You see, Louisa was to have nearly all. Her mother had come to his father a wealthy widow. Everything that had been her husband’s was to pass to Louisa. Harrington only had use of the money and lands until Louisa married or reached her majority.” Raynor heard Elizabeth’s gasp of surprise, but said nothing more. He knew that he was coming as close to explaining what had happened to Louisa as he ever could. For some reason, it had become important to him for Elizabeth to know how it had been between him and Willow’s mother. That he had felt protective and loving toward her, but not as a lover.

Elizabeth said, “Is that the cause of the bad blood between you and Lord Harrington? That he was jealous over Louisa’s inheritance?” Then Elizabeth stopped, with a hand over her lips. “Nay, I'm sorry I asked, Raynor. I made a promise not to question you further on that. It is just that I want so desperately to understand. Pray forget I spoke.”

Raynor forced himself to relax the muscles that had grown taut at her queries. A growing hope rose inside him. Elizabeth had done what she said she would, withdrawing her own questions, without a word from him. Mayhap they could come to have something together.

He sent a fond glance to his sleeping daughter. It seemed even more important than before for his wife to know him. “Louisa was so like Willow. Bright and alive and loving, but too trusting of the world around her. Even when we were children I felt it was my duty to protect her. Nigel’s father cared little for her, and she was lonely.”

He looked at Elizabeth, willing her to comprehend how it had been. “She was the sister of my heart, if not my sister by birth.”

Elizabeth gazed back at him, then spoke, as if she could not prevent herself from saying what was in her mind. “But you had a child together?”