Lynette Vinet - Emerald Trilogy 02 (3 page)

Suddenly Beth felt ill at ease, not daring to look directly in Howard’s eyes because she feared he would see the love shining there.

“I must be going, sir. Good morning to you.” She curtsied again and started to leave but he stopped her with a hand on her arm.

“Would you care for anything to drink after your long walk, Beth?”

“No, sir, I don’t imbibe the spirits!”

He laughed, greatly amused.
“No, my dear.
I have water if you prefer.”

She nodded and he filled a cup with the water which trickled from the fountain.

“Thank you, sir, you’re very kind,” she said softly.

He lifted his glass. “To you, pretty Beth.” She colored, and he laughed, throwing his dark head backwards in delight. “You’re quite lovely when you blush.”

“I didn’t mean to.” She touched a hand to her burning cheek and took a sip before setting the cup on the fountain’s
edge .
“I must be getting back. Miss Allison may need me.”

He looked disappointed, almost as if he regretted her leaving.
“Of course.
You have other duties and must not allow a lazy country gentleman to detain you.”

“Oh, sir, I don’t think
no such thing of you! “

His face brightened, and hope shone in his eyes. “Then tell me what you do think of me, Beth.”

“You’re a kind man, a good man,” she faltered.

“You don’t believe me to be the bungler everyone else thinks, then? Even my own father accuses me of botching everything, and says that if I don’t straighten out, he’ll leave everything to my sister.” He hung his head, and his woebegone expression clutched at Beth’s heart. She reached out a hand and touched his sleeve.

“You’re a fine man, sir, the best, the most handsome man in the world!” she burst out.

“Do you really think so?”

“Aye, I do, and I defy anyone to say you’re not.”

He kissed the palm of her hand, and held it. “Thank you, Beth. Would you consider … I mean, please, come to see me tonight and talk with me.”

“Oh, sir, it isn’t fitting.” She tried to draw her hand away, but he held it tight. “I’m only a servant…”

“What of it? I’m not like these other pompous landowners who treat servants poorly. I would like to speak with you, Beth, to have someone listen to me for once. Please.”

The fact that she loved him so earnestly moved her to accept.
“Aye, sir.
I shall.”

“Good. I know a quiet place where we’ll be undisturbed. Meet me in the stables tonight. Don’t disappoint me.”

Bemused, she shook her head. He let go her hand, and she turned and ran down the road toward Fairfax Manor.

Constance, who had been watching from the house, sauntered into the garden. “Well, I see you’ve captivated another little serving wench,” she said acidly. “Won’t you ever stop carousing with the help, Howard? You know how much Father detests it.”

Howard took a sip from his glass of sherry and smiled. “My dear sister, she is only a lady’s maid and a mighty pretty one at that. I don’t think Father cares one whit if I roll in the hay with her.”

“It is quite unnerving to realize the number of bastards you’ve sired in the countryside! No one would believe it of you to look at you.“

“That’s the idea, sweet. Puts the little wenches off their guard,” he chuckled.

Constance smoothed down her gown and smirked. “What about Allison Fairfax? When you marry her, she won’t approve of your little excursions into the hayloft.”

“Ah, Allison will be quite amenable—but first I’ll have to stop Paul in his tracks.”

“What of Paul?” Constance asked sharply.

“I think he plans to capture the little goose who laid the golden egg from under my nose.”

Constance laughed. “He can’t possibly be interested in that little chit! She isn’t in the least attractive.”

“Her property is, my dear. For someone who claims never to have lived in the area, Paul knows quite a bit about it. He pumped me at Trinity for information about Fairfax Manor and its inhabitants. Oh, he was quite subtle, but I gather he has an ulterior motive in his interest.”

“I don’t believe you.” Constance moved off, then turned and faced him. “Howard, I wish to know everything Paul tells you. If I am to be his wife, I must know all.”

Howard threw the remainder of’ Beth’s water into the fountain. “Don’t wager on becoming the future Mrs. Flanders, Constance. Anyway, I don’t think you’d care for America or wherever it is he comes from. I hear it is quite uncivilized.”

Howard laughed at the venomous look she threw him and poured another drink, dwelling on the delights of the night to come…

Allison sat on the stone bench in the garden with sketch book in hand, attempting to capture the beauty of a wild daisy. She glanced up and saw Paul riding down the road on one of Lord Granger’s mounts and dropped her pen in dismay, all thoughts of bringing the daisy to life on paper forgotten.

He dismounted before she had time to gather her art materials together and flee into the house. With riding crop in hand, he looked very much like an invincible titan, and she realized how small she was and how vulnerable to the anger in his eyes. “What are you doing here, Mr. Flanders? I asked you not to come!” she cried.

“You sent your poor lady’s maid to do your dirty work. Really, Allison, I thought you had more gumption.”

“Where Aunt Cecelia is concerned, I never have,” Allison admitted sadly.

“Ah, then
she’s
the reason you changed your mind about today.”

“Partly…”

He lifted an eyebrow. “What are your other reasons?”

She decided she must be truthful with him. “My aunt says you are only interested in my inheritance and Fairfax Manor.”

He leaned slightly toward her, his dark eyes seeming to pierce right through her. “I thought we settled that last night. Remember, you promised to trust me.”

A look discomfort crossed her face, and she backed away. “I’m not quite sure what got into me last night, Mr. Flanders.”

Amusement flickered in the depths of his eyes, and he smiled at her like a cat cornering a mouse. “I believe, Miss
Fairfax, that
you were quite willing to be seduced, and if I had pressed you, you’d have done whatever I asked.”

Her face lost all color, and she cast her eyes downward, unable to look at him. “I behaved in an unbelievably wanton fashion, and therefore I can’t think of anything to say to dispute you.”

His hand, warm and oddly comforting, tilted her head upwards. For a moment, he studied her features and smiled. “I don’t desire an apology, Allison. There is something between us—call it only mutual attraction if you will, but it is there.”

Allison’s lips moved towards his, inviting his kiss, and when his mouth pressed upon hers, demanding and hot, she almost swooned. His hard, searching lips sent spirals of ecstasy through her and she experienced feelings she never knew existed. Suddenly he broke away, a triumphant light in his eyes. “Never tell me you’re sorry for wanting me!”

“Paul, I do want you. I want you ever so much,” she whispered, heady with the thrill of love as if she had just drunk potent wine.

“Soon, my darling, but now we should pay your aunt a visit. Or would you rather I see the tigress in her den alone?”

“I’d forgotten about her.” Dismay filled Allison, and she grimaced. “I won’t let you face her by yourself.”

Taking him by the hand, she led him into the house, and as they stopped in front of the library doors where Cecelia was sequestered, he kissed the tip of her nose. “Remove that worried frown from your brow, my sweet. I’ve faced worse than this in my time.”

Allison found it difficult not to return his disarming smile; the desire to tell him how frightened she was trembled on her lips, but she took the door knob in her hand and turned. When they entered the room, Cecelia lifted her head from the ledgers she perused and raised a cynical eyebrow.

“Well, Mr. Flanders, it seems you ignored Allison’s request not call this afternoon. Or were you lying to me, Allison?”

“She did send me a message not to come,” Paul interjected before Allison had a chance to reply. “However, I felt this matter was far too important to be left to young girl’s whims.”

“Paul!” Allison’s lips went white, dismay etched her face.

Amusement tempered Cecelia’s rage, and she rose from her chair behind the desk. “Allison, I think it best you retire to your room. I wish to speak with the gentleman, and afterwards, you shall not see him again.”

“I shall not!” Allison protested, gathering what was left of her flagging courage. “I will stay and see this through.”

“And I say you will not.”

Allison looked imploringly at Paul. She recognized the demanding tone of her aunt’s voice and knew she would never dare to disobey. But when he gazed down at her it was as if he looked right through her. “Please do as your aunt wishes. I shall speak to her alone.”

“But Paul…”

“Do as your aunt requests, sweetheart,” he said gently.

She stared wordlessly at him, feeling the pounding of her heart, the thumping of her pulses. He had called her “sweetheart”; no one had ever called her an endearment since before her mother had died. Allison feared she was going to melt right there on Cecelia’s Aubuisson carpet. She knew that whatever would be decided would happen within the next few minutes. Without a further word, she backed out of the room and softly closed the door behind her.

Cecelia tapped her fingernails on the desk top and pointed to a chair near her. After Paul had seated himself, she took her place behind the desk and sank into the cushions of her chair.

“Mr. Flanders, I gather that you are quite stubborn. Not an admirable trait to have.”

“I find it depends on who is being stubborn. Sometimes, in fact most of the time, it is an admirable quality. I imagine you don’t care for it, because you yourself possess it and know that I am a formidable opponent.”

“I had no idea we were in competition. However, you intrigue me, Mr. Flanders. An ordinary man would have scampered away from here with his tail between his legs.”

Paul’s eyes glowed with an inner fire which Cecelia didn’t fail to notice. “I am not an ordinary man, Lady Wiggington.”

Cecelia sighed. “Let’s get down to business, sir. Tell me why are you interested in my niece—as if I have to inquire.”

“Evidently you don’t feel Allison has the attributes to attract a man, and that is a shameful attitude to have toward one’s own flesh,” said Paul coolly.

“It isn’t that I feel she shall never find a suitable husband and make a decent match. But why are you interested in her? You are an extraordinarily handsome young man who can no doubt have any woman you want. Tell me, why
do you want Allison when you could probably snare another wealthy heiress—say
Constance Granger for instance. Now, she is quite beautiful, and you must admit that Allison will never be as lovely.”

He found her suspicion amusing, and a ripple of mirth surfaced on his face. “My lady, I fear I misjudged you. I assumed you’d be direct and tell me I wanted Allison only for her inheritance.”

“I know you want her money, just as I plainly see that you covet Fairfax Manor,” Cecelia said, anger blazing in her green eyes. “You shall never have any monies or this house. It is mine to do with as I please, and I will disinherit Allison if she defies me.”

“I assumed you would, my lady. Tell me, if you will, to whom would you leave your property if Allison is no longer your heir? There are many charities that would appreciate such generosity, orphans and the like. Yes, I believe Fairfax Manor would make a good orphanage—children always make a place joyful. Or perhaps you might look up the original owners of the manor and return it to them.” His tone was suddenly sharp.

Cecelia scowled. “I do not take kindly to such talk, Mr. Flanders, and I ask that you leave my home immediately!”

He stood up. “I apologize, my lady. I just wanted to offer some suggestions. I assume I do not have your permission to call on your niece.”

“No, you do not!”

Paul bowed. “Then I shall not trouble you again. Good afternoon.”

He withdrew from the library to discover Allison paced the hallway with a look of trepidation on her face. “What happened?” she asked him.

“You weren’t listening at the door?” He was surprised when she shook her head. “Then you are an extraordinary young woman, my dear. It appears that your aunt won’t allow me to call on you.”

“I knew that would happen.” She sighed, and he gently kissed her cheek.

“All isn’t lost. You can meet me in secrecy.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t do that, Paul.” The idea was so shocking, so absurd that she discarded it immediately.

His mouth set in a thin line, and he shook his golden head in disbelief. “I can’t believe you never entertained the thought, Allison.”

“But it’s so … so improper,” she said weakly.

“Love isn’t always proper. Sometimes people must behave in an improper fashion to be with one another. In fact, my own parents had to sneak off to be together.”

Allison smiled faintly. “They must have loved one another a great deal to risk such a thing.”

“Do you care about me enough to disobey your aunt’s wishes?”

“Yes, I do, but…”

“Prove to me that you love me.” In an instant, he pulled her into the confines of his arms and kissed her with such passion that the world spun around her.

When he released her, she leaned weakly against him, and listened only to the passion of’ her heart. “I’ll meet you, Paul. Anywhere you wish.”

He smiled then, his brown eyes so bright they looked like burning embers. “Meet me tonight by the pond in the forest.” He let her go as quickly as he had embraced her and was gone, leaving her confused and completely disoriented.

Once outside, Paul mounted his horse and galloped into the wind, his laughter echoing like peals of thunder across the countryside. It had been so easy, so damned easy! He hadn’t relished facing Cecelia, but now nothing stood in his way.
Certainly not that scrawny, imperious woman.

He smiled, thinking of Allison. Cecelia assumed the girl would obey her, but Paul knew how infatuated she was with him and counted on that love. Never one to be humble, he realized he was handsome, probably more so than other men, yet sometimes wondered if his looks presented more of a hindrance than a help. However, charm didn’t hurt and he had that in abundance; he also knew that charm had disguised the hatred in his heart. His father had taught him to hate, and many times his poor mother would bemoan the fact that he was not
more gentle
, more forgiving, like herself.

But fate had been kind to him. Upon enrolling at college, he happened to meet Howard Granger and learned he was a neighbor to Fairfax Manor. Howard had mentioned Allison Fairfax and Paul determined to meet and marry her; even if she turned out to resemble a sea hag, he knew he was going to make her his wife. Allison was the means to achieving his end.

Paul shrugged. He knew his mother wouldn’t approve of his deception or what he planned for Allison Fairfax despite what had happened in the past. But then his mother was content with her lot and loved his father more than life itself. She wouldn’t approve of the contents of the letter he had mailed from Dublin, days before he had even met Allison. But his father would, and so certain
was
Paul that a marriage would take place. Otherwise why would fate have brought him into contact with Howard Granger at Trinity, only a few months after his arrival in Ireland?

The memory of Allison’s face rose before him and though he tried to push the image aside of trusting eyes in a face framed by silvery blonde hair, he couldn’t. Why must she look so much like an angel? He’d feel less guilt if she did resemble a sea hag.

No, he wouldn’t think about her! All that mattered was the vengeance in his heart, not this innocent girl who loved too quickly and trusted too well. He urged the horse along, eager to return to Ballysheen Hall and
await
the night when, he was certain, Allison would lie in his arms.

~ ~ ~

As soon as Paul departed, Allison left the manor and crossed the meadow, stopping when she reached old Maggie’s thatched roof cabin. She entered the cooking area and discovered the woman huddled against the wall, a thin blanket covering her slight form.

“Maggie, it’s Allison,” she called.

The old woman looked up and smiled, saluting her with a pained expression. “Good day to you, Miss.”

Allison came and sat beside her, oblivious to the dirt on the floor. “Do your bones ache today?”

“Aye, they pain me something terrible—but I don’t think you trotted over here to inquire about an old woman’s ailments.”

Allison’s face brightened. “Oh, Maggie, I met him just like you said! I love him already.”

“See, I told you it would happen. You just had to have faith. Now tell old Mag your troubles.”

“I have so many doubts about him…” Allison began.

“What doubts could you
be having
to plague you?”

“Aunt Cecelia says he can’t see me again, and I love him so—but sometimes I think she may be right, that perhaps he’s only after my fortune.”

“Hmm.
What is the young man’s name?”

“Paul Flanders.”

“Flanders you say?” Maggie shook her head. “Nay, that cannot be right.”

“That is his name, Mag. What am I to do? I’m so afraid that he doesn’t really love me—that, like Aunt Cecelia says
,
he wants me just for Fairfax Manor.”

“Now why would you be saying such a thing as that?” Maggie’s eyes took on an interested gleam.