A Dream Come True (9 page)

Lucia was grateful of the chance to steer the conversation away from the topic of Lord Winterton. Had not her mother just confirmed all her worst fears about him?

‘She is raving – it is the laudanum,' she thought, as Mrs. Darrowby poured a small glass of her mixture into a glass.

“Now then, my Lady. Drink this, it will calm you down.”

She gulped down the green liquid and made a face.

“It tastes of burnt wood,” she grimaced.

“It's only herbal, my Lady,” soothed Mrs. Darrowby, casting a meaningful look at Lucia. “I wouldn't give you anything poisonous.”

Lucia took one last quick look at the array of bottles on the bedside cabinet and made a mental note to ask Doctor Maybury what he had prescribed.

“I shall leave you now, Mama, but I shall look in again before dinner.”

Closing the door behind her, Lucia returned to her room. Lord Winterton's arch face suddenly flashed into her mind and she willed it away.

‘What is it about that man that makes him so – impertinent?' she asked.

‘I shall resolve to keep my distance and Mama is right, I should request a chaperone. Yes, I shall insist on it!'

*

 The next day, Lucia made herself ready to receive Edward. She had not forgotten that she had invited him with his stallion to the Hall for a ride.

She did her best to avoid discussing anything over and beyond the marmalade at breakfast with her stepfather. He appeared very preoccupied and did not mention Lord Winterton for which she was grateful.

He did not even remark on her wearing her riding habit at the meal table.

As soon as she had finished eating, she left the dining room and went out to the stables to check that everything was ready.

“Will you be riding Flash today, miss?” asked Jack.

“No, but Mr. de Redcliffe will,” she replied. “Have him saddled up, please.”

She watched Jack walk away and wondered if he had any inkling that the future of the stables had been in serious jeopardy.

Now with Lord Winterton's promise of funds, they would not be selling horses.

“Lucia.”

She turned around in time to see Edward riding towards her on Lightning. The horse tossed his dark mane and snorted as he pulled up next to her.

“Good morning, Edward. I see that Lightning is in fine form today.”

“He is being rather skittish actually, I do hope that he behaves for you.”

“I am told that I ride as well as any man and I love a challenge. I have selected Flash for you to ride. He is a very handsome stallion with a fondness for eating daisies!”

“Then it is fortunate that the daisies are not yet out,” remarked Edward.

Lucia stroked Lightning's fine, well-muscled neck and spoke to him gently.

“There, my fine boy. We shall have some fun today.”

Very soon she was astride him and they were heading along the fields at the back of Bingham Hall.

Lucia could not resist the temptation to show off a little and made Lightning take a jump over a hedge at the edge of the estate. The horse flew through the air and landed sure-footedly on the other side.

Lucia felt as if she had grown wings.

After a long hard ride, they came to a halt by a stream.

There they allowed the horses to drink.

“You had me worried for a moment when you went for that hedge,” admitted Edward, as they sat down on a fallen tree trunk. “It was rather daffy of you.”

“Not at all,” replied Lucia confidently. “I have been riding horses since I could walk. I know what I am doing with them.”

“Even so, Lightning is a very spirited blighter.”

“He is, but he is not uncontrollable.”

They fell into a companionable silence. And then, without warning, Edward seized Lucia's bare hand and covered it with kisses.

“Edward,” she cried trying to pull it away.

“Lucia, will you marry me?” he demanded hoarsely.

His eyes were burning into her, entreating her to reply affirmatively.

“Edward, what madness has overtaken you?”

She scrabbled in the grass for her discarded gloves with her free hand.

“It's not madness. You must know that I love you desperately. I intend to speak with your stepfather this very day!”

“No, you must not!” cried Lucia, rising and extricating her hand from his.

“Why ever not?”

‘If I say I am already promised, he will tell his friends and everyone will gossip,' she thought hurriedly, searching for an excuse that would satisfy him.

“It – it is not the right time,” she murmured.

Edward's face suddenly came to life.

“Your Mama, of course, how insensitive of me. I am sorry, but I have quite forgotten myself.”

“We should return home,” said Lucia as they awkwardly faced each other.

“I will wait for you,” pleaded Edward. “Please do not refuse me.”

“I will see,” answered Lucia, untethering Lightning's reins.

Edward looked relieved.

“Thank you,” he breathed coming closer. “Will you seal it with a kiss?”

“No, I shall not,” replied Lucia haughtily, as she pulled herself up onto Lightning's back. “We must return to the Hall without further delay. My stepfather will be wondering where I am.”

Digging her heels into Lightning's side, she shot off, leaving Edward gazing impotently after her.

*

The mood was rather subdued on their return.

Edward took his leave, asking that she think about his proposal and then promised to call on her the following weekend.

As he left Sir Arthur pulled up in the Rolls Royce.

“I hope you are not encouraging him,” he said as he watched Edward ride off. “You will give yourself a bad reputation and Lord Winterton will not like it.”

Lucia refrained from saying that, according to her mother, Lord Winterton did not have any room to be taking any kind of high moral ground.

Sir Arthur continued to remind her of her duty throughout the rest of the weekend. He constantly picked her up on her attitude and by Sunday evening she was almost looking forward to leaving so that she did not have to endure him any longer.

‘If only Mama was not so ill,' she thought. ‘I would not mind leaving her. The way my stepfather speaks to me is outrageous and he is not even my real father!'

She picked up the photograph of Lord Mountford from her dressing table and looked at it for a very long while. His grey eyes were so like hers and although she had her mother's colouring, her eyes were all her father's.

“Please put this in my hand luggage and wrap it up in a silk scarf to protect it, Mary-Anne,” she said handing her the photograph.

She looked around to search for one of her mother and spied a small silver-frame on her chest of drawers.

“And this one as well, please,” she added.

‘It's one of my favourites,' she told herself with a smile. ‘Mama must have been my age when it was taken and she had just announced her engagement.'

Once again, Lucia's thoughts turned to marriage.

‘I never imagined that I would be sold off in exchange for a house. I think Mrs. Pankhurst and her Suffragettes still have much work to do before we are considered anything other than men's chattels.'

Although not entirely sympathetic to their cause, Lucia took a keen interest in the exploits of Mrs. Pankhurst and her daughters.

‘But, women getting the vote? I cannot see men allowing us such power.'

As Mary-Anne fastened the last trunk, Lucia found herself wondering more about Lord Winterton.

‘Why is he not married already? I don't understand it. Although he is not quite as old as I had first believed – he is in the prime of his life and it is surprising he does not have a wife.'

But she knew that there were men like him, those who favoured the single life as opposed to the comfort and security of marriage.

‘Perhaps he has just not found the right woman. That Lady Shelley does not sound a suitable wife at all. Although I can imagine that she would set her cap at him, especially as she is now a free agent.'

She was still pondering the conundrum when she climbed into bed that night.

‘I should stop thinking about him as it's not healthy to have such an interest in him,' she scolded herself. ‘He is to be my employer and his private affairs will be none of my concern.'

But there was something about Lord Winterton that kept him on her mind long into the night.

*

 All too soon Lucia found herself in the Rolls Royce on her way to Longfield Manor.

The drive there was considerably quicker than by carriage and it seemed as if they had only been travelling for a short while before the motor car slowed down in front of the ornate iron gates, beyond which lay Longfield Manor.

‘Here, already,' she sighed as Briggs went to open the gates.

She had not been to the Manor before and, under happier circumstances, would have enjoyed a visit. But now she felt only sick to her stomach with nerves.

‘Lord Winterton has a great deal of land,' she murmured, as they passed a wood, a lake, fields full of sheep and a large paddock where several horses ran free.

‘I hope he will allow me to ride in my free time,' she mused, eyeing a particularly beautiful dapple-grey mare that trotted along the perimeter fence.

After a while, the fields gave way to more manicured gardens. Shingled beds lined with well-clipped topiary sat in front of the elegant Manor.

Briggs manoeuvred the Rolls Royce along the gravel drive and came to a halt outside the heavy double doors that served as a front entrance.

Almost as soon as he had switched off the engine, a liveried footman appeared followed by a young boy also in livery.

Lucia stepped on to the gravel and looked up at the gables and orange bricks.

“Those latticed windows seem very old,” she said out loud.

“Yes, they are, sixteenth century actually.”

Lucia turned her head to see Lord Winterton striding towards her.

‘He is not wearing a jacket,' she thought shocked at his informality.

His shirt was open at the neck and, as he walked, it flapped open to reveal a muscular chest, thick with brown hair. Blushing, Lucia averted her eyes.

‘Really!' she said to herself.

Although she could not deny that the sight of such obvious masculinity affected her in a manner that she could not quite quantify.

“Welcome to Longfield Manor,” continued Lord Winterton. “It's a very old building and rather eccentric, but I am very fond of it. Wintertons have lived here since 1623 and my great-grandfather made many alterations in the name of modernisation. I intend to embark upon a series of improvements myself one day. But somehow, I never seem to find the time.”

He aimed his hot gaze directly at Lucia's face and once again she found herself blushing uncontrollably.

‘If only he did not make me feel so awkward,' she thought, as he escorted her into the elegant hall with its heavy oak staircase and floor-to-ceiling panelling.

In spite of herself, she felt strangely drawn to him. It was as if a spell was cast and she was helpless in its thrall.

As they walked along, she could feel the heat emanating from him.

He moved with a vulpine grace and she could not help but stare at his fine shape as he walked in front of her.

His shoulders were broad and strong and his muscular torso tapered to a narrow waist with an elegance that became him. She tried not to notice the strong legs as he strode purposefully towards a room at the end of a long gallery. It was filled with portraits in oils and Lucia assumed they were of his ancestors.

“I hope you will not mind if you begin at once. It is just that I have an appointment in a while and I am a little late.”

He turned towards her as he opened the door and flashed a smile that touched something inside of her.

“Come and see my Underwood Number One,” he called, obviously proud of the fact that he owned a typewriting machine.

Inside the study was a desk with the typewriter all ready for use, a letter rack holding sheets of crested notepaper and a stack of letters yet to be opened.

“You will sit there,” he said gesturing towards the desk. “If the chair is not comfortable, you must tell me at once and I shall have Jepson arrange for another to be brought in. I want you to feel at home,” he added in a low confidential tone.

Lucia did not dare to stand too close to him. There was something overwhelmingly manly about him that unnerved her.

‘Compared with him, Edward is a wet youth,' thought Lucia, as Lord Winterton ran through the names of the servants and what they did.

He seemed quite unabashed that when he leaned forward over the desk to show her something, his shirt fell open and exposed his abundantly hairy chest.

‘Is he attempting to seduce me by showing off his body in this way?' she asked herself, as she inched away from him.

“Mama has asked that I have a chaperone,” she said suddenly.

“Really?” answered Lord Winterton arching one elegant eyebrow. He stroked his moustache. “You don't wish to compromise your reputation?”

Lord Winterton laughed softly and then smiled to himself.

“In that case, I shall ask my housekeeper to keep you company or I am certain Antoinette, whom you shall meet later, would be happy to sit with you. I would have thought that in the circumstances you would not have required a nanny – ”

He stared at her and Lucia felt a surge of anger.

‘Is he intimating that I am immature and unable to look after myself? she thought. ‘How dare he!'

It had also not escaped her notice that he had made an oblique reference to the fact that they were unofficially betrothed. She was so cross that she could not reply.

“Now,” he continued, without waiting for an answer, “answer those letters and I will return shortly. I have business to attend to. Are there any other questions?”