An Heiress at Heart (34 page)

The landscape here, just as in the poem, had continued its pattern in timeless harmony with the seasons, regardless of those who had come and gone.

Till from the garden and the wild

A fresh association blow;

And year by year the landscape grow

Familiar to the stranger’s child.

Lizzie could well see herself as the “stranger’s child.” The landscape was indeed familiar to her now. Nearly a month had passed since she’d given herself wholly to her
new life, and her days were growing into a comfortable pattern. She and Lady Thornborough would eat meals together and spend the evenings by the fire. Occasionally they would go out to dinner at a nearby neighbor’s home. Once they had even attended a small dance, and Lizzie had enjoyed the music and dancing and the lively conversations with the local gentry. Most of these were people Ria had known only casually, so Lizzie was able to “reacquaint” herself with them with relative ease.

In the afternoons, Lady Thornborough was usually occupied with the business of the estate. This was Lizzie’s favorite time of day. She often spent it out of doors, where she could pass the hours unhindered with her thoughts.

She once again scanned the page whose words she knew by heart.

As year by year the labourer tills

His wonted glebe, or lops the glades;

And year by year our memory fades

From all the circle of the hills.

She looked out across the endless, timeless landscape. Although Ria and Edward were gone, she could keep their memory alive here for just a while longer.

Her gaze settled on the bay mare tethered some yards away, a lively creature with an easy temperament who had become Lizzie’s steadfast companion. Lady Thornborough had procured a riding master to come and give lessons to Lizzie several times a week. All had been amazed at how quickly she had learned to ride. The riding master had already declared her competent enough
for short outings on the estate. Though she was usually accompanied by a groom or Mr. Jarvis to assure her safety on the horse, she was sometimes able to ride out alone so long as she did not stray too far. She could not let them know that she had ridden much farther distances in Australia. Nor had she told them that one day last week she had used the opportunity to ride to the post office in the nearby town of Sennoke to post a letter to Australia.

Writing that letter had been Lizzie’s greatest trial thus far. It had taken her multiple tries and an ocean of tears to compose it. She knew she had to tell Tom she had taken on Ria’s identity. He would be so angry with her, but she could see no way around it. She told him she had a new life here, and she was happy. She begged him to stay in Australia, that coming back would be ruinous to them both. After much debate with herself, she decided not to tell him Freddie was alive. This would bring him back to England for sure, and renewing a feud with Freddie would jeopardize his life and his freedom—the things she was trying hardest to protect.

The letter had skirted another very important fact. Lizzie supposed that, if she tried, she might have found a way to leave England—to secretly slip away and return to Tom in Australia. She knew Tom would want her to do this. Her reason for staying in England was not the new life she was building, as she had told Tom in the letter. It wasn’t even her growing affection for Lady Thornborough.

It was Geoffrey.

Geoffrey filled her waking thoughts and moved through her every dream. Tom had been a loyal and loving brother, and their fellow settlers in Australia had
been kind in a rough, plain sort of way. But no one had filled the yearning in her heart that had been real and palpable. Not until Geoffrey. Even if she could never be more to him than a sister-in-law, this was inexplicably preferable to leaving him behind forever.

The mare lifted her head and whinnied, attracted by something on the hill.

“What is it, Bella?” She turned to follow the horse’s gaze. Even as she did so, she had a kind of tingling, prescient awareness that a man would be there. She knew exactly who it would be. There, standing at the crest of the hill, as though she had conjured his presence with her very thoughts, was Geoffrey.

*

The moment Geoffrey laid eyes on her, he knew he was a fool for coming here. She was the very picture of loveliness as she sat reading, deep in contemplation, under a tree on the hillside. Sunlight filtered through the thinning leaves, causing a play of light and shadows to dance upon her face and her golden hair. Irresistibly, he thought of how she had felt in his arms when he had danced with her, and when he had kissed her.

He had spent far too many hours thinking of that evening. He kept telling himself it was something that was best forgotten—for both their sakes—and yet deep down he longed to know why she had returned his kisses so eagerly. Was she falling in love with him? It seemed incredible even to contemplate.

Ria stood up and hastily brushed the grass off her dress as he moved to close the gap between them. From a distance she had appeared serene, but now as
Geoffrey drew closer, he could see that her face reflected deep sorrow.

He was unprepared for the hesitancy that overtook him. He stopped a few feet away and bowed. It seemed an absurdly formal gesture in this natural landscape.

“Geoffrey,” Ria said, her voice filled with wonder. “What are you doing here?”

He tried to discern from her expression whether she was pleased to see him. She seemed so, smiling even as she brushed a few tears from her eyes. He did not answer her question, but only remarked with concern, “You’ve been crying.” He offered her a handkerchief, which she accepted. “Were you thinking of Edward?”

She appeared so pained by his question that he immediately regretted asking it. She turned away and dabbed at her eyes. “Yes, I suppose I was.”

He reproved himself heartily. How could he have entertained the idea that she might love him? It might be years before she recovered from the heartbreak of Edward’s death. Indeed, she might never recover. She had looked to Geoffrey for strength and comfort, no more. That kiss under the stars had been the unfortunate result of her reaching out to him for solace. He would do well, he reminded himself sharply, to keep that in mind.

“I ought to be happy here,” Ria said, indicating the bucolic landscape around them. “I should be content to be home.” She sighed so deeply on the word
home
that it made her voice shake. “Yet it is here that I feel their loss even more.”

Her words confused him. “
Their
loss?”

The injured look crossed her face again. “I mean Edward, of course, and… my parents.”

He took a step back. “I apologize for interrupting your reverie. Perhaps you would prefer to be alone.”

“No, please don’t go. I am glad for your company.” She indicated the book in her hands. “Lord Tennyson’s poems seem to have taken my thoughts into an overly melancholy direction.”

Geoffrey nodded. “Our Poet Laureate does have rather a somber side.”

She smiled. “Grandmamma told me that she had invited you. She will be so happy you’re here. Have you seen her yet?”

“Yes, I just came from the house. James is with her now.”

“James!” Her face lit up, and once again Geoffrey was seized with that jealousy reserved for anyone who could claim her warmest thoughts. “How on earth did you cajole him to come out here to do his duty to his family and his estate?”

Her reference to
duty
made Geoffrey realize how differently he felt about that word than when he’d first met her. But then, she’d made him look at everything differently. “James wanted to come. We both did.”

“I’m so glad.” She loosed the horse’s reins from the fence post. “Will you be staying long?”

He tried to gauge her interest in the question. It seemed only casual, however. “I must leave day after tomorrow.”

“So soon?”

His heart leapt, unaccountably, at her unguarded statement. “Would you be happy if I stayed longer?”

“Of course,” she said with a bright smile. The smile that pulled him in every time. Was she thinking of their
kiss at all? For a moment Geoffrey thought he saw the look she’d given him in the moonlight. But she turned and deftly slipped under the horse’s neck to the other side, then coaxed it to a walk. “Perhaps we might do some of that riding we once spoke of,” she said. “Bella is a wonderful horse, and I’ve come a long way in my riding.”

If she was thinking of what had happened between them, she was making good on her promise that it would not happen again. Or had the event truly slipped from her memory?

“That would be wonderful, I’m sure,” Geoffrey said.

They walked together, with the horse between them. “There is an excellent field for riding,” Ria said, pointing. “At the far end is a lovely glade for a picnic.”

She was clearly doing her best to keep the conversation in neutral territory. He reminded himself that he should do so as well. He had to remember that even if she could recover from Edward’s death and find a way to love him, such a love would be impossible for them to act on. She was, and would remain, his sister-in-law only. And yet, he was not yet ready to let the matter rest entirely. “Ria, I feel I should apologize to you for my conduct the last time we met.”

There was silence from the other side of the horse. Then Ria said shakily, “It was my fault. I should apologize to you. Here I am, your brother’s widow, and all but throwing myself into your arms. I promise you that it will not happen again.”

He came around to the front of the mare, forcing Ria to face him. “I would like to ask you one question, and I promise you it will remain between us. I do not intend to allow anything more to happen… that is,” he faltered, “I
know the honorable thing to do and I will do it. But you said that night that you
wanted
me to kiss you. Why?” Ria attempted to turn away, but Geoffrey reached out and took her hand. “Please tell me. I have to know.”

Ria stood very still. Her lips fluttered with quick, shallow breaths, and Geoffrey wanted more than anything to lean in and kiss them, to crush her body to his.

The mare whinnied, breaking the silence. Ria stepped back. “It was a mistake,” she said quietly. “You said so yourself.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “However, that still does not answer my question.”

Ria flashed a brief, apologetic smile and reached once more for the reins. “Perhaps some questions are better left unanswered.”

*

Lizzie was barely able to think or speak during dinner. She was so intensely happy that Geoffrey had come, she could do little else but watch him. She loved the line of his short, neatly trimmed side whiskers as they followed the upper part of his jaw; the way a stray lock of hair fell just slightly over the left side of his high forehead; the way even his hands had a certain mesmerizing grace as he ate his food or brought a glass to his lips. Above all, she loved the moments when his rich and unfathomable eyes held hers. It was powerfully strange, to be aware of so little else in the room except him.

James monopolized the conversation, regaling them with stories of what he had been doing since leaving London. He had been making the rounds at the country homes of several friends, including a week with the
Cardingtons. Inspired by the exhibit at the Crystal Palace, Miss Lucinda Cardington had purchased a camera, and James and the two sisters had roamed the countryside seeking suitable subjects.

“Miss Emily was put out by all this photography business at first,” James said with a chuckle. “But we enjoyed ourselves so much that she ultimately forgave us for making her march all over Hampshire.”

Lady Thornborough made a tsking noise. “I cannot believe the Cardingtons allowed such a thing.”

“Lady Cardington was less than enthusiastic,” James admitted. “However, the arrival of Lord Somerville lent some dignity to the affair and appeased the great lady considerably.”

Geoffrey visited the Cardingtons? This took Lizzie by surprise. Was he perhaps planning to pursue a match with Lucinda after all? Lizzie had not thought it possible after what he had said at the ball, but perhaps she had been mistaken. It was not a pleasant thought.

Geoffrey merely said, “Lord Cardington has been working with me on the housing projects for the poor. I had some fund-raising plans to review with him, so I accepted an invitation to visit.”

“That is his official statement, and I cannot get him to declare otherwise,” James said. “Neither, unfortunately, can the elder Miss Cardington.” He made a sound that was a sly imitation of Lady Thornborough’s disapproving tsking noise. “All of London society was crushed when there was no announcement of an engagement for the most eligible peer in the realm.”

“We do not stoop to gossip in this household,” Lady Thornborough reminded her nephew.

“How can it be gossip, Aunt, if the person being spoken of is here in the same room?”

“Really, James, you are most trying,” Lady Thornborough huffed, although she could not hide her own curiosity about the matter.

“I take no offense,” Geoffrey said. “The London season afforded me many lessons in how to inure myself to the endless stream of gossip.”

Lizzie asked tentatively, “So you will not… that is, there is no understanding between you and Miss Cardington?”

Geoffrey considered her question with a slight smile. “An interesting turn of phrase, that. We do have an
understanding
. That is to say, we understand each other very well. However, we will not be getting married.”

This news sent a flash of elation though Lizzie’s insides, as did the particular way he looked at her as he said it. Geoffrey had made it plain that they could never repeat what had happened on that night. And yet he was unattached to anyone else, and he was taking time to visit Rosewood. Furthermore, his actions that afternoon had convinced Lizzie that their kiss had affected him deeply. All of these things rekindled her foolish dreams.