Dair Devil (23 page)

Rory shook her head. “Sadly, no. This foot is with me forever, just as you will always have curly hair, except when it is wet. Then it is straight, isn’t it? But my foot is the same, wet or dry.”

Bernard had a thought and his eyes opened wide.

“Swim! Can you swim? Can you swim like a—like a—
mermaid
?”

It was his mother who laughed.

“Bernard! You do have silly notions. Miss Talbot needs her stick to walk; she can hardly use it in the river to swim.”

“I beg your pardon, Mrs. Banks, but Bernard’s notion is an excellent one,” Rory countered, gaze remaining on the little boy who had flushed to be admonished before a stranger. She smiled and took hold of his hand and drew him closer. “I think you are very clever to think I can swim. I don’t need my stick in the water, do I? The water keeps me afloat.”

“Do you—Do you swim like a mermaid?”

“I have never seen a mermaid, so I do not know how they swim. Perhaps my grandfather has seen one, because he was the one who taught me to swim, and I can swim very well indeed.”

“With your arms; not your legs.”

“Oh, you
are
clever! I do use my arms more than my legs, though I can kick with my legs, which helps me along.” Rory took a sip of her milky tea. “Any more questions?”

Bernard shrugged. “No. If I think of more can I ask you?”

“Of course.”

“Thank Miss Talbot for answering your questions—”

“Thank you.”

“—and now leave Miss Talbot to sip her tea in peace,” Lily Banks said firmly. “Off you go and play with your brothers.”

Bernard handed Rory her stick with a shy smile then raced across the terrace, down the steps and out onto the lawn to join in the game of cricket. When he looked over his shoulder, Rory waved to him. He gave a wave in return and did a tumble on the grass for good measure. Turning to Lily Banks, Rory was about to say how much she was enjoying the afternoon and to thank her for sending Old Bert to invite them up to the house; she hoped she would see Mr. Humphrey and meet her son Jamie before it was time for her and Grasby to return to the barge. But instead of this calm speech of thanks, she said nothing at all.

She received a shock and lost the grip on the handle of her teacup. It clattered to the saucer and toppled. The drop of tea left in the cup splashed over the lip of the saucer and stained the blue satin riband nestled in the crown of her straw hat still resting on her lap. She was just grateful the tea had not found its way to her flowered petticoats. Still, she made a fuss with the hat, if only to regain her equilibrium and hope the heat in her face had faded enough for her to look at the new arrival.

First her book, and now her teacup. He would surely think her the clumsiest female in existence!

Out onto the terrace had stepped Major Lord Fitzstuart.

A
MUD
-
SPATTERED
great coat concealed a dark plum riding frock and buff breeches, and with his jockey boots similarly caked in mud, the Major looked to have been astride a horse all day, and in varying degrees of inclement weather. He still wore kid riding gloves, but had removed his black felt hat, revealing unruly shoulder-length black hair, damp from exertion or rain, or both. Gone was the bruising to his eye and the deep cut to his lip had healed, leaving a small purple scar. His skin had a healthy glow, as if he had seen many days of sun, and the dark, close-cropped beard gave him a piratical appearance. But it was at his eyes Rory stared without blinking. He was tired, as if he hadn’t slept in a week, and he was staring at her in a way that suggested he wanted her to read his thoughts. Those thoughts were most discomforting, because she received the strongest impression he was not pleased to discover her at Banks House.

She was the first to look away, and fussed with her teacup and saucer, placing it on the table. She then inspected the stained silk ribbon as if it required all of her attention. In her forced preoccupation, the Major stepped forward and made his presence known to Lily Banks. Rory pretended not to notice, but out of the corner of her eye she saw him remove his gloves and place a bare hand lightly on Lily’s shoulder. The grazes to his knuckles had also healed, and his hand, like his face, was sun-bronzed. He stooped, said something at Lily Banks’s ear, kissed her cheek, then stood tall. That kiss, light and perfunctory as it was, had the power to make Rory blush, and with abject despondency. And when Lily Banks half-turned in her chair with an exclamation of delightful surprise, the baby still at her breast and a hand out to Dair in greeting, Rory’s blush ripened into one of unwanted interloper.

Here was a couple pleased to see each other; a couple used to intimacy; a couple who shared a child…

For the first time since arriving at Banks House, Rory wished she had taken her brother’s advice and returned to the barge. For a reason only known to her heart, she felt a great pressure in her chest. It was pain, the aching pain of affection not reciprocated or wanted. She was such a fool! He had never singled her out in the past, why, after a drunken kiss he did not remember, would he single her out now?

As if in answer to her question, he made her a small bow when Lily Banks mentioned her by name, though she was so deep in her thoughts she had no idea what was said. But it did not matter, the acknowledgment had been made and that was all that was required of him. He did not look at her again, nor did he include her in his conversation.

The oppressive feeling pressed down even further watching the interaction between the parents of Jamie Banks. Yet she could not dislike Lily Banks or feel any jealousy toward her just because the Major was at ease in her company. Lily Banks was no bawd. She did not flirt with him, or act in any way that indicated they were anything but friends of long-standing. Why was it, she wondered, that females who had children out of wedlock were instantly branded the lowest forms of life, incapable of constancy, honesty and decent behavior? And yet, their male counterparts were thought anything but immoral. She had always scowled at such uneven standards. Of course, Harvel branded her bookish and said she would be locked up as mad if she ever dared voice such thoughts in decent company. Silla had called her ruminations wicked and never to be repeated, certainly not in front of the vicar.

The general flurry of activity sparked by the Major’s arrival allowed Rory to retreat into the background, to her usual place as observer at gatherings. In many ways, it was a relief not to have his eyes upon her; it helped quiet her heart, and permitted her to drink a second cup of tea without spilling a drop.

Servants scurried back and forth from the house. Great coat, gloves and hat were taken away. Dirty plates and empty bowls were removed from the table. A space was cleared for the new arrival. Clean plate and cutlery, fresh bread, a tumbler and a jug of ale were all placed before him. And the Major did not hesitate to fill his plate with the remnants of the birthday feast, saying in answer to Lily Banks’s question, when his mouth was empty,

“You’d be famished too if you’d not eaten a good English meal in over a month!” He pulled a chunk of crusty bread from a fresh loaf and sopped up gravy. When he could speak again, he said with a grin, “Two slices of beef and I’m already feeling human again. No! Don’t say it. I know. It will take a shave and a bath before I can present as human, but I wanted to get here as soon as possible.” He looked out at the cricket game in progress. “I don’t see Jamie. Where is my birthday boy?”

Lily Banks told him about the visit of the Duchess of Kinross and the presentation of the microscope, adding after she had tied and adjusted her jacket, baby put to her shoulder to gently rub his back to settle his stomach, “He’s in the study with Mr. Humphrey, peering at all sorts of queer objects through a lens. Poor Miss Talbot has come to see Mr. Humphrey specifically, and Jamie has taken all his time, so has yet to show himself.”

“Then get them out of there, Lil. I didn’t gift him a microscope so he could monopolize your lodger’s time and attention. Not when Humphrey is wanted elsewhere. And I don’t want Jamie neglecting his food and his obligations. Did his brothers eat their dinner at the table with the rest of the family?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Then why not Jamie?” Dair asked quietly.

“He did. We all started our meal, then were interrupted by the Duchess’s carriage. But poor Mr. Humphrey did not have the opportunity to finish what was on his plate once Jamie saw what was in the mahogany box.”

“Lil, he should have come back to the table. He’s the eldest. He needs to set the example. And don’t say because it’s his birthday he can be shown leniency. He does it every time he can get away with it. He should not have had access to the microscope until after he’d finished his meal with the family. And he should have been made to wait until Humphrey had eaten his fill. That’s just good manners. The poor chap’s stomach must be growling!”

“Yes. Yes, of course. You’re right,” Lily Banks murmured and scrambled to her feet. “You know how he is when he gets distracted… He’s so terribly clever. Much more clever than the rest of us.”

Dair poured himself another tumbler of ale.

“Being clever is not enough. He needs to know how to use his cleverness in the right way. He still needs to be mindful of others. And he needs to spend time out of doors, enjoying fresh air, sunshine and cricket, like every other boy his age.”

“He prefers the study…” When Dair made no reply and drank down his ale, Lily added quietly. “I’ll have him fetched at once…” When she went to put the baby back in his basket he began to fuss, so she just stood there, flustered, wondering what to do with him.

Without a second thought, Dair put out his arm, took the grizzling infant and held him to his chest, a large hand spanning the tiny back to keep him firm and upright, the baby’s wet chin resting on his shoulder. Sensing she was still there, he said quietly,

“Don’t take it to heart, Lil. I’m tired… I’ll stay the night, if it’s not too much of an inconvenience—”

“Never. Your room is always made ready.”

When he smiled and nodded, Lily Banks disappeared inside the house, leaving a heavy silence at the table. Rory wished the two older Banks women, who were seated at the furthest end of the terrace, heads together talking, would turn and notice the new arrival. She hoped Jamie and Mr. Humphrey were not long in coming. She put her teacup on its saucer and lifted her gaze to the sight of the small bundle cuddled against the Major’s chest, while he continued to eat ravenously, using his fork as best he could, with only one hand free, to cut as well as scoop up the vegetables on his plate. He held the infant unselfconsciously, as one adept at doing so, and as if his embrace were the most natural and most comforting place to be.

There was something wonderful about a big handsome man holding such a tiny, vulnerable little being with one large protective hand. It brought inexplicable tears, tears Rory quickly blinked away. She mentally admonished herself for being sentimental, that even this small domestic scene involving the Major had the power to provoke such an emotional response in her.

She turned her gaze to the lawn and watched the cricket match in progress. Her brother, in the outfield, sleeves rolled to the elbow, had a hand up, shielding his eyes from the sun. One of the Banks brothers was batting. Another was bowling. The three boys were doing tumbles on the lawn with only a halfhearted interest in the game. Rory suspected the adults were completely dominating the match, so the children had lost interest. She looked away, to see if the Banks women still had their heads together. They did. She returned her attention to the table, and was startled to find the Major regarding her steadily. He must have had his eyes on her profile for some time, such was the intensity in his gaze, and when she did not look away he said flatly,

“Before you dare to ask what you are thinking, Miss Talbot, the answer to the burning question is no, this brat is not mine. Nor are his three elder brothers. They have a father and their mother is a devoted wife. Only Jamie belongs to me.”

“Thank you for being frank, my lord,” Rory replied levelly. Despite a heaviness of heart, she was affronted by his presumption. “But I do not thank you for thinking you can read my mind. It will surprise you to know that what I was truly thinking was what a wonderful job Mrs. Banks has done in raising her sons, mostly on her own; what with her husband the intrepid explorer, and you, an officer, leaving her alone for extended absences. I was also thinking how lovely it must be to have other family members around at such times. Not having uncles or aunts or parents, and only one grandparent, it was such a pleasure for Harvel and me to sit at a table with a large happy family group. It reminded me of the few times we visited my godparents at Treat—”

“Miss Talbot, I apologize if I offended—”

“My lord, you should wait until I have finished my diatribe before you decide if you owe me an apology or not,” Rory interrupted, the sparkle back in her blue eyes when he promptly closed his mouth and glanced away. “As we are being frank, then let me be also. Even though it is none of my concern, if Jamie has a gift for science, and his natural inclination is to spend his time peering into lenses and classifying insects and plants, and whatever else catches his interest, then his mother is wise to let him do as he pleases, rather than force him to do what pleases you. I have never met your son—”

“—and yet you presume to know him?”

Rory smiled crookedly. She wanted to say that though she did not know the son, she was confident she understood the father’s proclivities. Instead she said, a little less stridently than before, “No. Not him. But if you cast your mind back to your tenth birthday, as I have done, can you remember what you were eating? I surely cannot. But I am confident you remember what you were doing…”

Dair did not hesitate to answer. He shifted the baby to his other shoulder, again holding him there with a splayed hand, and said bluntly,

“I was outdoors skimming stones on the lake. I preferred—I prefer—to be outdoors. Anywhere but a book room. Such stuffy rooms give me the headache. Charlie and I were waiting for our father to join us. He was in his study; a place he rarely left. He’d been watching Charlie and me from his study window… When he finally joined us he gave me a birthday gift I will never forget. The next day he departed for London. We never saw him again. And before you make comment,” he added with a thin smile, “I am not forcing Jamie out-of-doors because that is what I did at his age, or what I think he should be doing. He needs to be reminded he is one of five brothers, and on this of all days. Between you and me, his mother, his grandparents—even Lily’s husband—all indulge him more because of who he is, rather than because he is clever. My great-grandfather was Charles the Second, so he has royal blood in his veins, however polluted, and one day I will be Earl of Strathsay. That’s a heady mix for his mother’s family, whose antecedents never rose beyond their position of servant these past three hundred years. But it does not remove the stain of his illegitimacy.”