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Authors: Elizabeth Bailey

Nell (19 page)

BOOK: Nell
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‘My lord, I do not believe that the tricks being played upon me are devoid of purpose.’

Jarrow said nothing. It was precisely opposite to his reasoning, but it would not do to say so at this juncture. Clearly, Nell Faraday had not fathomed Toly’s mind as yet. There was uncertainty in her face and he nodded encouragingly.

‘Go on.’

‘As Hetty’s governess, sir, I am thought to be in the way. I do not know precisely why as yet, but I believe the symptoms you see in Henrietta are being deliberately induced.’

A cold feeling crept into Jarrow’s bones, but he rejected it. He knew himself to be susceptible to suggestion. How could he not be, surrounded for so long by unpredictable minds?

‘How so?’

‘With laudanum, my lord.’

Laudanum.
The very word was anathema. His tone sharpened involuntarily.

‘Nonsense! No one in my household would dare to use it on the child. Julietta was prone to take it—whenever I could not prevent her—and it only added to her difficulties.’

Nell gazed at him, her chest tightening. This was dangerous ground. From Mrs Whyte she knew that his late wife had been affected in similar ways to Henrietta—which might well be attributable to laudanum. Only his lordship was so sensitive on this issue. She wanted to pursue it, force him to recognise the truth. But her heart
would not permit it. Hardly realising that she did it to spare him further pain, she softened the tale.

‘I may be wrong, but there is the matter of the milk.’

‘Milk?’

He sounded blank. He did not recall it. Had she not thought he had been preoccupied when she told him of it before? In an unconscious attempt to keep it light, Nell began to walk again, following automatically in the direction of Hetty’s clattering footsteps still to be heard at intervals.

‘Hetty dislikes the taste sometimes. And indeed, I think occasionally it has a bitter flavour, for I—’

He interrupted her without ceremony. ‘You will have me believe that the child’s nightly drink is being laced with that drug?’

Nell halted again. ‘Yes, my lord.’

There was a moment of silence. Then Lord Jarrow spoke again, his voice perfectly calm. ‘Very well, I will look into the matter.’

With which Nell felt obliged to be content. Not that she was at all satisfied. He would speak to Duggan and the woman would lie. And she had said nothing of her suspicions of Mr Beresford, although she had begun with the tricks.

‘Come, we had best catch up with Hetty before she loses herself.’

He had dismissed the subject. Despising herself, Nell refrained from re-opening it. She must keep her own vigil, then. Perhaps the fact that the nurse and Mr Beresford knew it had been reported would be enough to deter them from further assaults upon the little girl. But Nell was not sanguine. The fellow wanted something from the child—but what?

She followed Lord Jarrow through a bewildering col
lection of corridors, until they came out upon a long gallery, where Henrietta was busily prancing up and down, engaged in the few dance steps she had recently learned from Nell and singing her own accompaniment. She looked anything but demented. Nell wished she had courage to bring the matter up again, but the thought of reviving that haunting bitterness—never far away!—was an effective deterrent. It was all too seductive to be with him in a mood of serenity.

Lord Jarrow opened one of the shutters and light flooded in. They had been lucky with the weather, although the sun was playing peek-a-boo with the clouds. Nell went to join him at the window, looking out upon a vast expanse of trees. His proximity disturbed her, and warmth settled in her bosom.

‘There is an orchard somewhere in there, sadly overgrown, I fear.’ He pointed. ‘And that, if you will believe me, is the start of the lawns.’

Nell saw what appeared more like a jungle. ‘Heavens, it will take a mountain of work to set it all to rights!’

‘Precisely.’

She eyed his profile as his glance roamed the neglected lands. He was right. He could not afford to live in it, no matter how much he might wish to. Nell had little knowledge of estate management, but even to her untutored eye it was obvious that it would cost a fortune. Not to mention the huge staff that would be needed for its upkeep, once the place was put into order. Nell was struck with a longing to remove at least one of his burdens.

‘Why don’t you sell it?’

His head whipped round, catching her gaze, a frown between his brows. ‘Sell Padnall Place?’

Unnerved by his reaction, Nell hurried on. ‘As I un
derstand it, the house forms no part of the Jarrow heritage—unlike Castle Jarrow. If you were to sell it, you could afford to purchase a more modest establishment with the proceeds, and keep it running into the bargain. You might even do so with the servants you now have, and remove from the castle altogether.’

Jarrow was touched at the note of concern. He eyed her expectant countenance under the straw hat she had chosen to sport, together with a modest gown of white muslin under a spencer of the dark green that suited her so well. Inconsequently, he decided that she did not look in the least like a governess. She looked like any pretty young lady he might have squired upon an outing. Suddenly—and desperately!—he wanted to kiss her.

The thought jolted him into reality. He heard again Hetty’s clatter on the wooden boards beneath her feet, and took in the repetitive lines of the song, fumbled out in her deep-toned voice. Nell Faraday’s hand was resting on the windowsill. Jarrow caught it up and brought it swiftly to his lips.

Nell’s pulses leaped. Unaware of the startled look in her face, she allowed her fingers to be kissed. Her hand was released immediately, and she brought it slowly back, covering it with the other hand as if she must hide the imprint of his lips. He spoke, and her quick ear detected unsteadiness in his voice.

‘You have made a difference, Nell. Despite your fears, she has changed, hasn’t she? Has she changed? Or am I imagining it?’

Disappointment swept over Nell in a wave. Quickly she turned her gaze away, to pass unseeingly over the outer world. He must not see how foolish she had been. What had possessed her to suppose his action to have shown a partiality for her? He was grateful to her for
what she had achieved with his daughter—and that was all. She had to force herself to speak, and was astonished at how collected she sounded.

‘I don’t think she has changed, my lord, so much as become more herself.’

‘I wish you will not address me so formally!’

The irritation caught her unawares, and she turned on him. ‘How else should I address you, pray? You are my employer.’

‘No one would suppose it, from the way you speak to me,’ he retorted.

Nell could not deny it. Disconcerted, and still disorientated by having her hand kissed, she became absurdly tongue-tied.

‘Well, if you will—I mean, it is not—Heavens, how infuriating you are, my lord!’

He laughed. ‘And there it is again! You may as well start calling me Eden and be done with it.’

‘Don’t be absurd! I could not possibly do so. I wish you will cease this foolish conversation, and return to the point at issue.’

‘And allow you to persuade me to sell my house?’

Nell positively glared at him. ‘I have no notion of anything of the sort. It was merely a suggestion that happened to occur to me. It is no possible concern of mine what you do!’

One hand waved in agitation and Jarrow recaptured it, holding it fast when she tried to pull it away. ‘Be still.’

She abandoned the attempt to recover it, turning her attention instead to controlling her breath, which had taken on a life of its own along with the rapid movement of her heart. With dismay, she saw him frown and knew he had detected her unease.

‘You are trembling! Why, Nell? You are surely not afraid of me?’

Of what he could do to her unruly emotions, she was excessively afraid. But she could hardly say so. But her tongue betrayed her.

‘You set me in turmoil, Lord Jarrow! Pray let me go!’

The outburst was fatal. Jarrow read the cause of her unrest and his desire for her leaped to meet it. Next instant, she was in his arms and his lips were seeking hers out.

Nell’s world exploded into sensation. For several mindless instants, all she was aware of was the intense sweetness in the pressure upon her mouth and the violent beating of her heart against her ribs. Heat coursed through her veins and her legs became jelly. For the first time in her life, she felt her senses slipping away from her. And then it was over.

She stood trembling in every limb, grasping automatically at the windowsill to steady herself. She was aware of a strong hand at her elbow, without which she was sure she would have fallen. Her hazy vision cleared and the features of Eden, Lord Jarrow, swam into focus. She heard hoarseness in her own voice.

‘What did you do? Heavens, what did you do to me?’ A low laugh spun her mind, and she stared at him stupidly.

‘Don’t look at me like that,’ he begged. ‘I assure you I am as much discomposed.’

Another voice piped up. ‘What you
do
, Miss Fallyday?’

Nell’s eyes shot round to find Henrietta standing to one side, her wide-eyed stare trained upon her governess. Dear heaven! She wrenched herself out of his hold.

‘You may well ask, Hetty!’ She lowered her voice to
a frenzied murmur. ‘And before the child, too! How could you, my lord?’

Jarrow was already regretting having allowed himself to be carried away. His senses felt utterly disordered, and he cursed himself for losing control in front of his daughter. He spread his hands. ‘What can I say?’

‘It is no use asking me, sir,’ retorted Nell, endeavouring to straighten the bonnet that had shifted in the late encounter to sit unevenly on the back of her head. ‘But you had best think of some explanation that will satisfy her—and fast.’

With which he was in whole-hearted agreement. Only he could think of no explanation that would be likely to pass muster with Hetty. Looking down at his daughter, he discovered that she was holding his hat. He reached to take it, and in a bid to distract the child, dropped down and lifted her into his arms.

‘Look, Hetty! See the big gardens? Would you like to see outside the house?’

The wide stare—so much associated with the Beresford taint!—passed over the view and returned to his face. She was Julietta to the life, even to the heavy brows that frowned upon him now. Was that why he could not believe otherwise than that she resembled her mother in the disorder of her mind?

‘Miss Fallyday come too?’ Was it suspicion in the deep voice, or accusation?

‘We will all go.’

To his relief, she nodded her satisfaction and he set her down. Replacing the hat upon his head, he took the girl’s hand, and signed to Nell to follow. Then he led the way to the main staircase and out again through the front door, which he took care to lock behind him. The respite afforded him all the time he needed to formulate
his explanation and apology. That both were due was undeniable, in despite of the unnerving reaction he had surprised in Nell Faraday. Had he not guessed it? She had tried to conceal it, but at a level where he need not inspect it, he had been aware for some time that she was attracted to him, which in itself behoved him to keep his distance. The more fool he for inviting her to come with him today!

He waited until they were arrived at a spot close to the overgrown lawns, into which Henrietta immediately leaped with a shout of joy, swishing her way through the high growth of weeds and laughing immoderately at the trail she left behind her of half-crushed grasses.

When Nell would have followed her, Jarrow reached out to detain her, grasping her by the arm. ‘Wait.’

He pulled her round to face him. There was reproach in her eyes, and he let her go, rushing headlong into speech.

‘Look at me like that if you will, for I have deserved it. I apologise unreservedly, Nell, for my conduct was disgraceful. What else can I say but that you are a pretty girl, and I have been for too long alone.’ He detected a change in her expression, and held up a hand. ‘No, I don’t mean since my widowhood, but for so much longer. I don’t know what you may have heard, but I am sure it must be enough for you to appreciate that much at least.’

Nell could not deny it. Despite every effort to subdue the feeling, her heart went out to him. She spoke her thoughts unchecked.

‘More than anything else, I could not wish to add to your burdens, my lord. Let us forget it, if you please.’

Not that she would! She had recovered her composure, but she was sure it would be long before she was able
to recall the incident without a resurgence of the sensations it had invoked. She was gratified to see a lessening of the trouble in his face, and could not resist smiling at him. To her unacknowledged chagrin, he did not return the smile, but turned quickly away, training his gaze upon his daughter. There was reserve in his tone.

‘The worst aspect of the matter is my having forgot Hetty’s presence. Do you suppose she will forget what she saw?’

Nell thought it highly improbable, but she felt obliged to reassure him. ‘If she does not, at least she is not likely to speak of it. She does not confide in Duggan, and there is no one else.’

He was sure she had not meant to reproach him, but Jarrow felt it as if she had. ‘I am aware. If I could be assured that she would behave properly, I would do what I might to bring her into company with other children.’

Since Nell knew that under present circumstances there could be no such guarantee, she refrained from answering. Overset by recent events, she sought this way and that for a diversion, and found one.

‘You had nothing to say to my suggestion of selling this place, sir. Are you attached to it?’

Jarrow glanced about the grounds. It was a moot point. ‘Since I have never lived here, I cannot claim an attachment. Yet—’ He broke off, abruptly recognising that there was no real reason why he should not sell. He turned to look at her. ‘I never thought of it until you put it into my head.’

‘Putting the place up for sale?’

He nodded. ‘Before I succeeded to the title, I made a vow that when I did I would build up the estates and restore Padnall Place.’ The familiar bitterness crept into his chest. ‘That was before I met Julietta, of course. Af
ter…’ After, he might whistle for it! Though he had not known it when he married her.

BOOK: Nell
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