An Unacceptable Offer Page 13

  “We make a very good team, sir,” she had said. “Are you quite sure that as Jane’s bridesmaid I may not accompany you on your travels? No? Well, I shall think of a way. I shall play on your sympathies or on Jane’s before you leave. Perhaps I shall even steal you from her. Now, would not that be a coup?”

  “Miss Jamieson, most-admired debutante of the year, running off with plain, ordinary Mr. Sedgeworth as he dishonorably abandons his tearful betrothed?” he said. “I fear the image is not nearly glamorous or romantic enough to tempt you, my dear.”

  Honor had sighed loudly and batted her eyelids before turning to Fairfax and taking his arm on some pretext.

  “Little imp,” Sedgeworth had commented with a grin, seating himself beside Jane and touching her hand briefly in an affectionate gesture.

  Jane smiled into the water. She would be happy with him. And they would grow to love each other. Perhaps they would never be in love, but they would love nevertheless. She hoped they would have a child. She wanted to ask him how he felt about having children, but was always too shy to broach the subject. Yesterday he had seemed fond enough of Fairfax’s girls. He had held the solemn little Amy on his lap during tea and had allowed her to play with his fobs and quizzing glass.

  And she had held Claire. She had almost held her breath at first, expecting the child to become restless and move away from her. Instead, she had snuggled close and fallen asleep. Jane doubted if there was any warmer happiness than holding a sleeping child in one’s arms. Claire was very tiny and light, really little more than a baby. And so trusting to fall asleep in the arms of a stranger. She could have been the child’s stepmother, Jane thought, and shook off the thought before it could develop further in her mind.

  A snort behind her startled her and made her turn hurriedly. There was a horse tethered to a tree a little farther along the bank. She was surprised she had not seen or heard it before. It must have been there when she arrived. Where was its rider? She scrambled to her feet and looked around her. On her other side there was a small stone temple built at the lake’s edge. She had only half-noticed it when she arrived. Was the horse’s owner there? And was he Fairfax? Who else could it be? She turned toward the trees, almost in a panic to move away from there before she was discovered.

  But it was too late. Before she had taken a step she was aware of someone coming out of the building, and she turned back to meet the startled eyes of Viscount Fairfax.

  “Well, good morning,” he called. “You are an early riser.” He strode toward her across the grass.

  “I am sorry,” she said foolishly. “I did not mean to intrude. I could not sleep and thought I would come down here to explore. I had no idea you were here. I shall go back to the house.”

  “There is no need,” he said. “You must feel free to do as you wish here. Do you often get up early? I hate to miss the early morning myself.”

  “I cannot miss it even if I wish to do so,” she said. “The birds will not allow me to. But yes, I think it is the loveliest time of day. You have a beautiful home, my lord. I do not wonder that you like to spend your time here.” She hoped as she said the words that she did not sound regretful.

  “Would you care to walk a little way?” he asked, and waited for her to fall into step beside him.

  He led her back the way he had come, strolling at a leisurely pace, his hands clasped behind his back. Jane held her shawl with both hands.

  “This is a boathouse,” he said. “Rather a grand structure for such a humble purpose, is it not? There are two boats for anyone who cares to take them out. We keep towels here too for swimmers. I sometimes swim here early in the morning. There is no more relaxing and peaceful exercise. You would not find it so, of course. You are afraid to put your head underwater.” He turned toward her and gave her one of his unexpected grins.

  Jane smiled back. “I believe I would find it more relaxing and peaceful to sit on the bank and watch,” she said.

  “Even if I swam past and splashed you?”

  “If you were so ungallant,” she said. “I should run to the boathouse and steal all the towels.”

  He laughed. “Let us move on,” he said. “On the other side of the folly is what we have always fondly called the beach. It is merely a small area where the bank slopes down into the water. That is where I bring my daughters to swim. It really does not deserve the name, does it?”

  Jane viewed the small shingled area. “I suppose anything is what one makes it,” she said. “The folly, for example. I should firmly call it a temple if I lived here, and dare anyone to laugh at me.”

  If I lived here, she thought with some horror when it was too late to recall her words.

  “Perhaps you will change your mind when you see a real Greek temple,” he said. “I don’t doubt Sedge will take you to Greece.”

  An awkward little silence stretched between them as they wandered across the beach.

  “Will you like that?” he asked tonelessly. “Traveling, I mean?”

  “I believe so,” she said. “Though I doubt if we will travel soon. There is going to be war any day, is there not?”

  “I fear so,” he said. “The Duke of Wellington will have the fight of his life against Bonaparte, especially with so many raw troops and so many of our best still in America.”

  “Will he be defeated, do you think?” Jane asked.

  “I do not know,” he admitted. “But let me say this. If anyone can save Europe, Wellington is the man. Are you afraid of what will happen if Napoleon defeats him?”

  Jane shrugged. “I suppose life will go on basically the same no matter what happens,” she said. “But I would not like to think of having a foreign ruler.”

  “We must wait and see,” he said. “There is no point in becoming worried before we need to do so.”

  “No,” she agreed.

  They strolled on in companionable silence. “There is my favorite childhood spot,” he said at last, pointing ahead to the wooded island. “I believe I dug up every inch of it at one time or another looking for treasure.”

  “Did you ever find any?” she asked with a smile.

  “Oh yes, always,” he said, “though I did not realize it at the time. Childhood imagination is one of the greatest treasures a person can have. I want to make sure my daughters have a carefree childhood in which they can give free rein to their own imaginations. Did you have a happy childhood, Miss Matthews?”

  “Oh yes,” she said. “I was considerably younger than my brother and sister, so I grew up essentially alone. But I was never lonely. All of the moors were mine. I did not usually play in quite your way. I used to make up poems and stories as I roamed around.”

  “Did you write them down?” he asked.

  “Oh yes,” she said. “I still do sometimes. You are walking with a still-undiscovered Shakespeare, my lord. My works will be discovered and published posthumously, no doubt, and I shall become famous after my death.”

  “You mock yourself,” he said. “Do you have any of your writings with you? I should like to read some.”

  Jane laughed in some embarrassment. “No,” she said. “I have not written since leaving home. And nothing I have done is for anyone’s eyes but mine. I do not pretend to any great talent.”

  “Be careful!” he said suddenly. “The bank is very uneven here. It is easy to stumble.”

  He took her firmly by the elbow at the exact moment that Jane did indeed stumble awkwardly on a stone hidden in the long grass. She fell against him and both his arms went about her in a reflex action.

  “Oh!” Jane said, looking up at him, startled. His eyes looked very blue from so close.

  There was a silence that stretched perhaps a second too long for comfort. Jane blushed hotly, her breasts registering instantly the hardness of his chest, her thighs the firmness of his. It did not occur to her in that moment to push away from him. His head bent toward hers before he straightened suddenly and moved his hands to her shoulders.

  “My a
pologies, Jane,” he said. “I should have warned you sooner. Are you hurt?”

  The sound of his voice released her from the spell that had gripped her momentarily. She stood away from him. “Oh no,” she said a little breathlessly, “I just twisted my foot a little. I should have seen the stone.”

  He frowned in some concern. “Is your ankle sprained?” he asked, kneeling beside her and reaching out to test her ankle with his hands.

  “No, not at all,” she said, hastily withdrawing her foot. “Really it is nothing, my lord. The pain has already gone from it.”

  “Let us turn back anyway,” he said. “Take my arm. And do not be afraid to lean on me.”

  Jane felt embarrassed, but she took his arm. She had thought he was going to kiss her. What an absurd thought! It had probably been the last thing on his mind. And she had wanted him to kiss her. In fact, for one moment the bottom had seemed to fall out of her stomach. It was a terrible admission to make to herself. She was being dreadfully disloyal to Joseph.

  She should not have come to Templeton Hall. She realized that now. She had given in with very little struggle. And she had to admit, if she was to be strictly honest with herself, that she had come because she wanted to be close to Fairfax. She had wanted to see him in his home setting. She had wanted to meet his children. She was being very unfair. She was clinging to the security of a betrothal to one gentleman while indulging in an infatuation for another. She was trying to get the best out of both worlds. And she was being unfair to Joseph. Even now her body was soaking up the pleasurable sensation of being close to Fairfax. Her hand and arm were very aware of the firm muscles of his own arm. She could feel the heat of him along her left side.

  “I am happy that Sedge has found himself a wife worthy of him,” Fairfax said as they approached the beach again. “I have always been very fond of him, you know. We made our Grand Tour together when we were young pups. And he has been a great comfort to me in the last year since my wife died—first by letter and then in person. He never intended to marry, as he has probably told you. But he has met you, and I believe he will be happy with your companionship.”

  “Yes,” was all she could think of to say. And then she added, “I think perhaps I am the fortunate one.”

  “Will he continue to travel indefinitely?” he asked. “Or will you persuade him to settle down after a year or two? Will you have a family, Jane? You should, you know. You are good with children.”

  Jane could feel herself flushing. The topic she was too shy to broach with her betrothed was being raised in a quite matter-of-fact manner by Fairfax.

  He turned to look at her when she did not reply. His hand came across to cover hers briefly. “I am sorry,” he said. “I have embarrassed you. I did not mean to. Of course, your plans are none of my business. In my very narrow-minded way, you see, I was expressing my view that no one should be denied the pleasures of parenthood. I am quite besotted with my girls, as I am sure you have noticed.” He grinned in that very unexpected way again.

  “They are lovely,” she said. “I might well decide to kidnap Claire when I leave here. I believe Amy takes some getting to know. She is solemn and reserved for so young a child, is she not?”

  He was serious again. “Yes,” he said. “She was at an impressionable age when her mother died. For Claire it was not so bad. She was still very much a baby. Amy needs a great deal of love and attention. I intend to give her both. I had hoped to give her a new mother.”

  He closed his eyes tightly for a moment and shook his head. He flushed quite noticeably. “Pardon me,” he said. “Oh, pardon me, Jane. I had not meant to refer to the subject. Have I embarrassed you terribly? Please forgive me.”

  Jane dropped her head so that he would not see her face. She felt a raw pain in the back of her throat that she knew was the prelude to tears. She fought a silent battle with herself as they skirted the folly until they reached the grassy bank from which they had started their walk.

  “I have embarrassed you,” he said. “I am sorry, Jane. And I do wish you well. Sedge is a lucky man. You will make him happy. And you deserve better than to be tied to a man who has already had a wife and two children whom you did not bear. Forgive me for making you such an arrogant proposal in London. I do not blame you for becoming angry with me. You are a very special person and deserve more than a marriage of convenience.”

  They had stopped walking. He laid his hands lightly on her shoulders and stopped to look into her downcast face. “I have not made you cry, have I?” he asked softly.

  She shook her head and raised her eyes to his. “No,” she said. “And thank you. I mean for inviting me here and accepting me as Joseph’s betrothed. I ... I hope your life here will turn out well. Perhaps soon you will meet another lady whom you can love, and then your daughters will have a mother. But I think at the moment their father is quite enough for their needs.” She blushed at her own temerity.

  He smiled into her eyes and leaned forward to kiss her gently on the cheek. “Thank you, Jane,” he said. “Will you call me Michael, since you are soon to be the wife of my best friend?”

  She nodded. “Yes, Michael.”

  He looked across to where his horse was still tethered. “I cannot lead Prince through the trees,” he said. “I shall have to take him around. Shall I take you before me on the saddle?”

  She shook her head. “No,” she said. “I shall walk back. Thank you.”

  “I shall see you at breakfast, then,” he said. “I wonder if anyone else is up yet.”

  Someone was, Jane saw as soon as she emerged from the trees. Sedgeworth was wandering in the formal gardens that stretched before the house. He waved when he saw her coming.

  “Gracious!” he called when she came within earshot. “Are you up already, Jane? I thought you would be in bed for hours yet. I believed I was first up. Have you been to the lake? Lovely, is it not? Come and look at the flowers with me. And take a good long sniff of them. You know you are in England when you smell that particular fragrance.”

  He smiled and took her hand in a warm clasp as she came up with him. He drew her to his side, glanced around him, and bent with a smile to kiss her on the lips.

  “Do you always look as fresh and lovely in the mornings?” he asked. “Your cheeks are positively glowing.”

  “Yes, always,” she assured him. “But then, do I not look lovely all day long?”

  He grinned. “You are not fishing for a compliment, are you, Jane? I thought only your cousin used such tactics. She is quite a little imp, is she not? Yes, dear, you always look lovely to me.”

  Jane gave him a wide artificial smile and flickered her eyelids at him. He laughed and squeezed her hand.

  Chapter 11

  “MY DEAR Honor, not charades again tonight!” Lady Dart said wearily, setting her teacup back in its saucer. “We have played for the past two evenings, and you and Mr. Sedgeworth far outclass anyone else.”

  “Very well,” Honor said gaily. “We will play on different teams tonight, will we not, sir?”

  He raised his cup to her in a mock toast.

  “Besides,” said Lady Dart, not so easily mollified, “some of us spent the afternoon playing with the children and would prefer something a little more sedate this evening. Would you not agree, Jane? And Lord Fairfax? I need not ask you, my love. You were giving piggyback rides all afternoon and Gregory in particular is growing far too heavy for such games.”

  “How would an evening of music suit?” Fairfax asked, setting his own cup back on the tea tray and turning to his guests. “Shall we go to the music room?” Honor was immediately enthusiastic. Jane was more quietly so. She had seen the magnificent pianoforte and the smaller harpsichord on a tour of the house the day before and had been longing for a chance to hear or even play the instruments. Mr. Sedgeworth, seated beside her, smiled.

  “Jane has been promising to play for me,” he said. “Now sounds like a good time, Fairfax.”

  “Well, if you will not cons
ider me unsociable,” Lady Dart said, “I believe I will stay here, my lord, and fetch my embroidery. I can think of no more blissful way of spending an evening.”

  Lord Dart announced his intention of fetching a book and keeping his wife company.

  Honor took possession of the pianoforte as soon as they entered the music room. Fairfax stood behind the stool to turn the pages of the music once she had selected what she would play. Jane and Sedgeworth crossed the room to the harpsichord, which she proceeded to admire. It was a work of art in itself, its highly polished wood painted with scenes from mythology. She ran her hand over its surface.

  “You must be tired, Jane,” Sedgeworth said. “You were really very busy with the children while Fairfax was sedately rowing Miss Jamieson on the lake and I sitting idly on the beach. In fact, I had a very lazy time of it, did I not? I was still sitting idly on the beach when Fairfax joined in that very boisterous game of hide-and-seek.”

  “I enjoyed the afternoon,” Jane said, “and I believe the children did too. It must be a rare event for them to have adults playing with them for so long.”

  “I am not sure of that,” Sedgeworth said. “Fairfax seems to spend a large portion of his time romping with his daughters. You like children, do you not?”

  “Oh, very much,” she said, seating herself on the bench and smiling warmly up at him. “And a good thing too. Both my brother and my sister have families. I have been Aunt Jane for a long time.”

  Sedgeworth looked thoughtfully at her and smiled. “What power do you have over the little one?” he asked. “She climbed onto your lap and fell asleep again at teatime. She will not release her hold of Fairfax for anyone else.”

  “Claire?” Jane said. “We were outdoors, you know, and she had been doing a great deal of shrieking and running around. She was exhausted.”