A Rose in Winter (40 page)

Christopher pondered her silence for a moment as his gaze lightly caressed her. "Anne tells me that my cousin is quite smitten with you, but since he lacks the appearance that would make him socially acceptable, he is reluctant to appear in public with you." His smile widened into a grin as she looked at him in surprise. "I am therefore considering offering my services as your escort."

A crisp, cool smile was briefly bestowed upon him. "You seem to have it well planned ... except for one thing. I have no intention of going anywhere with you."

"But you'll have need of a capable chaperon," he argued.

"Thank you for your offer, but I think I would rather take my chances alone. I believe I would be safer."

"The Leicesters have an appointment this morning, and since Stuart is not here, I've asked if I might take you for a ride about the city."

Her mouth came open with her surprise, and she searched the tanned visage, taken aback by his nerve. She greatly suspected that he was setting a trap for her but fully intended to avoid it. "I should like to decline, sir."

He seemed undismayed. "I thought you might enjoy the outing, but if you would rather stay here with me, I'm sure we can find something to do while the Leicesters are away." Peering at her askance, he awaited her reaction.

Irate sparks flashed in the blue-violet eyes as Erienne became aware that she had been snared. She knew the folly of remaining in the manse alone with the Yankee rake. By the time the Leicesters returned, there would be serious doubt as to the continued state of her virtue. Cousin or not, she would be hard pressed to avoid his amorous bent.

"Your persistence amazes me, sir."

"I simply know what I want, that's all," he answered warmly.

"I am a married woman!" she gritted.

"How well I know!"

At the table Christopher held her chair as she slipped into it, and then he went around the table to take a place opposite her. For Erienne, his presence caused as much distress as when her husband sat across from her. With those glowing eyes constantly on her, she felt as if she were being devoured instead of the excellent fare.

Shortly after the morning meal, the Leicesters made their apologies and hurried on their way, leaving Erienne no choice but to let Christopher escort her to the waiting coach. It was evident that he had expended a goodly amount of coin in the hiring of such a fine livery, and he was most gallant as he handed her into its plush interior.

"Since I favor your company, madam, I shall try to be on my best behavior," he said as he settled into the seat beside her.

"If you are not, my husband will hear of it, sir," she warned direly.

He chuckled. "I shall try to remember everything my mother taught me about proper decorum."

Erienne rolled her eyes in wide disbelief. "This should prove to be an interesting day."

Relaxing back in his seat, Christopher smiled at her. "Might I start off by saying that I am honored by this privilege, madam? You are an exceptional-looking woman, and 'tis a joy to see you appropriately gowned. At least Stuart is not stingy with you."

He was right, of course. Lord Saxton was generous beyond the measure of most husbands. It made her even more cognizant of the fact that she had never given him anything in return, not even his rightful due as a man or as a husband.

Erienne smoothed the cream-colored skirt of watered silk, feeling very much a lady of worth. The emerald-green velvet bodice was cut in the manner of a short vest but with a stiff, standing collar and long, fitted sleeves. Puffs of silk adorned the velvet hat that Tessie had encouraged her to wear, and a long streamer of creamy silk swept gracefully beneath her chin and over her shoulder. The creation combined rich, stylish flair with discriminatingly good taste, something both the Talbots lacked but which was applied with almost casual ease in everything her companion assayed. He had completely destroyed the low opinion she had previously held of Yankees, and yet at the same time he had also confirmed her suspicions that their gall was beyond measure.

"Would it be improper for me to ask where you are taking me?" Her question carried more than a hint of satire.

"Anywhere my lady wishes. Vauxhall Gardens might do to begin."

" 'Tis really not the best season for it," she commented.

Christopher glanced at her in surprise. "You have seen it?"

"My mother took me there several times."

He tried again. "We might have tea at the Rotunda."

"I wonder if it's changed much."

"You've been there, too," he stated with deflated enthusiasm.

"Why, Christopher," she said and laughed, detecting his disappointment, "I used to live in London. I really can't name a sight that I haven't seen."

He mulled over her reply for a moment, then a slow smile came upon his face. "There is at least one thing in London you haven't seen."

Erienne could only stare at him in bemusement as he opened the small door behind the driver and spoke with the man. Then with a confident grin, he leaned back in the seat.

" 'Twill be a few moments before we get there, my lady. You might as well relax and enjoy the ride."

His suggestion was hard to follow, and she swiftly came to the conclusion that he was about as easily dismissed from mind as her husband. She could no more feel at ease with him than she could the other, though the contrast between the pair was like night and day.

"How well do you know Stuart?" she asked, determining that conversation was better than silence. Though he had promised to conduct himself in an orderly fashion, he was taking the opportunity to study her in detail.

"As well as anyone, I guess," he replied easily. "But then, no one knows him very well at all."

"Are you aware that Timmy Sears is dead?"

He gave a brief nod. "I had heard as much."

"Stuart seemed... ah... distressed over the man's death."

Christopher's answer was slow in coming. "Perhaps Stuart realizes the possibility of someone accusing him of the killing. A few of your husband's tenants voiced their suspicions that it was Timmy Sears who torched Saxton Hall, mainly out of spite because of the many times he had been chased off the lands. Nothing could be proven, of course, but the man was into constant mischief. Stuart lost a great deal because of that fire."

"Do you really think Timmy set fire to the manse?"

A shrug conveyed his indecision, and he replied with care. "I have heard a wide variety of tales about that. One as acceptable as any is that perhaps Lord Saxton inadvertently rode into a highwaymen's camp and recognized some of them. The marquess received a message to that effect, but before the authorities could arrive, the new wing wherein Lord Saxton had made his chambers was torched." Christopher glanced out the window as he added, "He had often complained of the drafts of the old house, and now I suppose he has to endure the cold."

Erienne sensed a poignant sadness in him in that moment of silence but could find no reason for it, except that he sympathized with his cousin. The mood seemed completely out of character for the man himself. "But if Stuart knows who was responsible for the torching of the hall, surely he could call them before the courts to make them pay their due."

Again there was a long pause before an answer came. "Lord Saxton is not the same man he once was. He thinks differently. He saw his father slain, and he remembers hiding beside his mother, afraid to let out a frightened whimper for fear the men would find and kill them, too. The burning of the manor brought it all home to him. 'Tis possible to see a long series of apparently unrelated events in the happenings, from the slaying of the old lord and the driving of his family away from the hall, to the burning and even the piracy that has laid hold of Cumberland. Perhaps Stuart sees a single hand behind it all and seeks a meticulous justice that can extend to the leaders and the highest one involved."

Erienne gave serious thought to his answer and was uncertain as to what part she played in all of it. Was her husband a man bent solely on revenge? Or was he seeking out a broader sweep of his vengeance? If she dallied too long, would she someday find his anger turned to her?

"Do you know why his father was slain?" she asked quietly.

A long sigh slipped from her companion. " 'Tis difficult to say, Erienne. Several harsh accusations were thrust upon his name when he tried to bring about a peaceful settlement with the Scots over the bordering lands, and some lords at court took it upon themselves to question his loyalty because he had married the daughter of a Highland chieftain. At the same time a band of highwaymen began to range through the North country, thieving and murdering. Many accused the Scots, but Stuart's father argued that it was some of the locals who had banded together. He set about to prove his suspicions, but he was killed before he could. Of course, the blame for that also fell to the Scots."

"If this is all true, I don't understand why Stuart went back to Saxton Hall."

"Why does any man go back to his heritage? To clear the family name. To take his rightful place as lord of his lands. To avenge the murder and destruction of his family and bring to task those who were responsible."

"You seem to know a great deal about my husband after all," Erienne pointed out.

Christopher smiled wryly. "As much as I hate to admit it, my lady, I'm kin to the man, and I've learned all the family secrets."

"What of his mother? Where is she?"

"After the death of her husband, Mary Saxton took what remained of her family and left the North country. She spent many years a widow, then married an old friend of the family. She will no doubt arrange a visit to Saxton Hall after her son puts his house in order. She does not wish to intrude until then."

"She must have been greatly saddened by what happened to her son."

"She is quite a woman. I think you'll like her."

"But will she like me? A wife bought on the block?"

"I can assure you, my lady, you have naught to fear. She despaired that Stuart would marry at all, and since you're such a fine choice for her son, she can't help but like you." His grin broadened. "If she doesn't, I hope she makes Stuart give you up so I can have you. After being married to such a beast, perhaps you could tolerate me a little better."

"Stuart is not a beast!" Erienne protested impatiently. "And I dislike the fact that everyone calls him one."

"You rise quickly to his defense." He regarded her closely as he teased, "I hope you're not falling in love with the man."

"From what I've heard, he needs someone to love him, and what better person to do that than his wife?"

"You distress me, Erienne." His mouth twisted in a lightly mocking grin. "You give me no cause to hope for myself."

"Nor should I,"' she retorted pertly. "I am a married woman."

He laughed briefly. "You seem to take special delight in reminding me."

"If you hadn't been so fond of your precious debt, you might have..." She halted abruptly, aghast at what she had been about to say. She had her pride, and she could not bear-to let him perceive her disappointments or the reasons behind them.

Christopher peered at her closely and took note of her sudden uneasiness. "I might have what, my lady?"

Erienne held her silence. She had not meant to chide him openly, but she was firm in the belief that if he had truly wanted her, he would have done something more at the roup than just casually accept the outcome.

"Bought you for a wife?" he pressed.

"Don't be absurd!" Her slim nose tilted upward as she turned it in profile to him.

"Have you so quickly forgotten, my lady? Your father prevented me from taking part in the bidding." His eyes never wavered from her face. "Did you expect something more of me?"

"Pray tell, what more could you have done?" Her sarcasm came through clearly. "You goaded my father until he was forced to seek a higher bid." She flung out a hand. "And you came eagerly enough for your payment when the coins were being counted."

"Madam, can it be that you resent me because I failed to snatch you away from your father and carry you off to some hidden valley?" His tone was one of amazement.

Indignant color stained Erienne's cheeks. "You're right, of course. I do resent you, but not for the reasons you state."

"Might I remind you that I proposed marriage, and you were the one who rejected my offer? In no uncertain terms, you let me know how you loathed me. Was that a lie?"

"No!" The word was lashed out in anger.

"You seem to be content with Stuart," he began slowly and saw a frown flicker across her lovely brow. "Do you, indeed, prefer the cripple above me?"

The tiny nod she gave was stiff and difficult. "Stuart has been very kind."

"Useless as a man," he muttered scornfully.

"That's not fair!" she cried.

He stared at her curiously. "The statement is fair unless you're the one who keeps him at bay."

A livid blush swept into her cheeks, and she quickly directed her attention out the window, unable to meet his probing gaze.

"How you managed that, madam, is quite beyond me," he stated, taking a cue from her silence. "By now, the man must be in torment, knowing that you are his but forbidden to touch you. I can well understand his plight."