Rhonda Woodward (15 page)

“Mariah, I am very sorry.”

The softly spoken words vibrated over her body. Some deep intuition told her that he was not just referring to what had occurred with Lord Stothart. The rapid tattoo of her heart skipped a beat.

Opening her eyes, she lifted her head to look up at him and met his serious, somber gaze.

The expression in his intensely blue eyes caused an inexplicable tingle to travel up the insides of her arms and settle in her chest.

His arms did not tighten around her. He remained motionless, his gaze not leaving hers. Mariah’s lips parted. She needed to speak to him but did not know what to say.

At a sound of the salon door opening, they both turned their heads.

Mariah’s heart sank to her slippers at the sight of her mama’s shocked face.

“Mariah! My lord!”

Chapter Fourteen

Feeling stunned on top of her shock, Mariah watched her mother step quickly into the room and close the door behind her. A feeling of cold dread crept over Mariah.

The earl dropped his arms from around her but not before he gave her arm one last squeeze. She was vaguely aware that he did not step away.

Beneath the surprise on her mother’s face, Mariah suspected calculation lurking in her gaze as well.

Of course!
Mariah thought with growing bitterness. No matter how much her mother loved her, Mariah knew her first instinct would be to determine how best to take advantage of this excellent opportunity.

Mrs. Thorncroft stepped farther into the room. “My lord! I am astounded! I am sure I do not overstep myself by demanding to know your intentions toward my daughter.”

Mariah’s heart sank past her slippers, down to the dungeon George had informed her existed beneath the oldest part of Heaton. The silence hung between the three of them until Mariah’s nerves stretched past her bearing.

If only she was the delicate kind of female who fainted easily, she thought with rising desperation. Fainting would be a lovely escape from this mortifying scene.

Unfortunately, she stayed upright and her mother continued to look at the earl expectantly, obviously waiting for him to make an offer for Mariah.

What must he be thinking at this moment?
she thought, her heart clenching with a sickening pang.

She could not bring herself to look at him. After their kiss in the library, then the awful scene after he overheard her insulting him, he had saved her from the disgusting advances of Lord Stothart. If that was not bad enough, he was now forced to answer her mother’s ridiculous question.

Mariah doubted that it would be possible to recover from the devastating feeling of shame and mortification draining the color from her face.

Feeling helpless, she watched the avid expression on her mother’s face, and without warning a bubble of mirth rose in her throat.

“Mrs. Thorncroft, I—”

At the sound of the earl’s firm voice, her unexpected laughter suddenly burst forth, cutting off what he had been about to say.

To her increasing humiliation, laughter shook her frame as the earl and her mother turned to look at her in surprise.

Try as she would, Mariah could not gain control of her wayward mirth. At the look of baffled anger her mother sent her, Mariah clutched her sides as a wave of inexplicable hilarity sent her into another gale of trilling laughter.

“Mariah! Have you taken leave of your senses?” Mrs. Thorncroft asked sharply. She turned her wide-eyed gaze to the earl. “I assure you, my lord, my daughter is normally the most sober-minded of young ladies.”

At the nervous, almost pleading tone in her mother’s voice, Mariah laughed even harder.

She knew she must appear mad, but she did not care. The culmination of the past few days’ tensions and strange events were obviously having a bizarre effect upon her, but somehow this half-hysterical laughter was better than breaking down in tears in front of the earl.

“Mariah, I insist that you catch hold of yourself. Go to your room at once. I will come to you after the earl and I have had a chance to discuss this shocking matter.”

“N-n-no!” With the greatest of efforts, Mariah gained a semblance of control over herself.

Moving away from the earl’s side, she approached her mother, placing her hand on her arm.

“Mother, I
must
have a private word with you.” The firmness of her tone was somewhat diluted by her fading hiccups of laughter.

“No,” Mrs. Thorncroft said, looking determined. “Now do as I say.”

Mariah did not intend to be put off by her mother’s unyielding tone. Gripping her arm, Mariah said, “Mama, please. I
must
speak to you before this goes any further.”

Meeting her mother’s gaze, Mariah silently, and desperately, willed her to come away.

The instant she saw the slight softening in her mother’s expression, Mariah sighed in relief and her helpless laughter finally subsided. Nevertheless, she did not release her mother’s arm.

“Excuse us, my lord. We shall have to delay our discussion,” Mrs. Thorncroft stated as she turned to the door with Mariah.

“At your convenience, ma’am,” the earl replied.

Mariah glanced back at the earl and met his quizzical gaze.

Something in the way he stood in the middle of the room clutched at her heart. He seemed utterly unperturbed by what had just occurred—completely confident and at his ease.

How she envied him his composure! And yet . . . And yet something deep within her wished that he did not seem so unaffected by what had happened—not just what had happened today but over the last few days as well.

He stood there, still gazing at her with an enigmatic expression.

A wry, defeated smile came to her lips. “I think we should just blame all this mischief on the moonlight, my lord.”

Before he could respond, she followed her mother out of the salon.

***

Once in her room, Mariah thanked heaven they had not encountered any of the other guests on the way. Turning to her mother, she stated without preamble, “We must leave at once.”

Mama looked as if Mariah had just suggested they jump off the roof. “What nonsense is this? I saw you in the earl’s arms as plain as the nose on my face. We are staying and arranging for your betrothal to him. Why are you behaving so oddly? Although I am surprised, this is above wonderful. Why did you not tell me that you and the earl had developed an understanding?”

Mariah clasped her hands together in mounting frustration. “Because we have not! You have no idea what occurred between the earl and me. Come sit down and let me reason with you, Mama.”

Although Mama frowned, they moved to the chairs in front of the fireplace. Once seated, Mariah took a deep breath before launching into her story, deliberately leaving out the kiss and the encounter with the earl by the hedgerow after insulting him to Steven— she would rather not have to mention that unless it was absolutely necessary.

After explaining how Lord Stothart had insulted and accosted her, she told her mother how the earl had offered her comfort.

“So you see, Mama, nothing of a truly intimate nature happened. He was just being chivalrous after Lord Stothart’s shocking behavior.”

Mrs. Thorncroft looked quite crestfallen for a moment. “Lord Stothart is certainly worse than a lout and a bounder. I am shocked that a gentleman by birth would behave so boorishly. You must not tell Steven of this or he will call Lord Stothart out. Oh, Mariah, this is a horrible turn of events,” she said with anguish, and then suddenly her expression brightened. “All may not be lost. The earl may still be able to be worked upon. He is a gentleman after all—”

“Mama!” Mariah jumped up, anger vibrating through her being and determination glinting in her hazel gaze. “I will not have the earl trapped into marriage. No matter how badly you want me to marry a peer, I will not stand for this. I have always done my best to be a good and respectful daughter. I have always tried to understand your desire for a titled son-in-law. But enough is enough. If you wish me to throw the biggest fit seen by this rarefied segment of the ton, then you will press me on this.”

“Mariah!” Mrs. Thorncroft raised her hands to her bosom, her expression revealing genuine shock.

“I mean it, Mama. I intend to be in a carriage within the hour.”

Watching the play of conflicting emotions cross her mother’s features, Mariah waited. She felt the blood pounding through her veins. Never before had she felt so steadfast in her resolve. She could not tolerate the idea of her mother trying to force the earl to offer for her. In fact, the thought of ever seeing the earl again was unbearable, and if she had to sneak out of Heaton and walk all the way to Chippenham then that was exactly what she intended to do.

Mrs. Thorncroft must have seen the determination in her daughter’s eyes, for she leaned back in the chair with a defeated huff.

“Very well, Mariah. You are rarely so stubborn, but when you are like this I know there is little I can do to change your mind.”

Sagging with relief, Mariah closed her eyes and lowered her head. “Thank you, Mama,” she whispered, wondering why this rare taste of victory held no sweetness.

Chapter Fifteen

As her booted feet crunched through the thick layer of frost covering the ground, Mariah kept her head down against the damp chill. After several more minutes of striding across a field in a purposeful manner, she finally paused to catch her breath and look around.

To her surprise, she had almost reached the causeway that led from Chippenham to Langley Burrell without even realizing she had walked so far. She had been so lost in her thoughts that she had given little notice to her surroundings until she found herself miles from home.

Pausing, she gazed at the beginning of the causeway for some minutes. At this spot the stone structure was really only a raised path; it would not incline to a proper causeway for several more miles.

She remembered the first time her mother had told her of how the causeway had come to be. More than three hundred years ago, the turn in this area was very different. There were very few roads, and those that did exist were nothing more than rutted cart paths, low-lying and prone to flooding. In the neighboring village of East Tytherton lived a good woman, a widow of independent means who desired to create the causeway so that all could “walk dry shod.” Mariah had always loved hearing about Maud Heath, finding it amazing that a woman who had lived so long ago could make her own decisions about how to distribute her monies.

By Deed of Gift, Maud made a bequest large enough to have the five-mile-long causeway built. Mariah marveled at the fact that the remaining money was still held in trust to this day, almost three hundred and fifty years later, for maintenance on the structure.

Walking along the causeway, especially where it crossed the river Avon, always gave Mariah a sense of pride in her village and a sense of history. She would imagine her ancestors using the causeway to take their eggs or livestock to market, grateful to the good widow for easing their way.

Maud Heath had been an amazing woman, just as Alice of Surrey had been, she thought, wishing she could emulate these two strong women.

Curling her fingers deeper into her ermine-lined velvet muff, Mariah made a wide arc across the rolling countryside to return home from a slightly different direction.

The gray day, the sky low and dark with the threat of rain, seemed to match her mood. Despite the cold nipping at her nose, she was glad she had walked so far. The distance would keep her from home that much longer. Glancing down, she noticed how damp her boots had gotten and how the chill had seeped in to her toes. Shifting her direction, she walked to an old lane that took a circuitous route back to the manor. She knew her feet would stay dryer on the path and that it had the added benefit of taking even longer to return home.

Not that home was awful, she mused. She just sorely needed a reprieve from her family. To leave behind all the concerned faces she would gladly walk for miles in the autumn chill.

Hunching her shoulders, she recalled how just this morning Mama had clucked and shaken her head in concern over Mariah’s subdued demeanor at breakfast.

In truth, she could blame only herself for her parents’ smothering concern for her. The night they had returned to the manor from Heaton, Mama had immediately pulled Papa into his library and closed the door. Lord only knew what she had told him, but he never mentioned the visit to Heaton and only watched her with an uneasy expression on his handsome features whenever they took a meal together. Sometimes Mariah felt that if Papa patted her shoulder in that sad way one more time she could easily break something.

Sighing as she sidestepped a puddle, she chided herself for not behaving normally. She really did try to act as if nothing was wrong, but the more she tried to force cheerfulness for her family’s sake, the more they clucked and patted.

Thank goodness Steven did not behave in the same exasperating way. She had seen little of him since their return from Heaton a few days ago. Although he did not stare at her in the woeful way their parents did, she did think him unusually quiet at mealtimes. It was obvious to her that he had changed since meeting Lady Davinia, and Mariah’s heart went out to him, though she could think of nothing to say that would help the situation.

George was the only member of the Thorncroft family who seemed to behave as if all was fine. George would chatter happily about the marvels of Heaton and would often wonder aloud if they could go back someday.

His childish ramblings made Mariah cringe—in fact, any reminder of Heaton seemed to cause such a reaction.

She walked along the path, a faint breeze pulling tendrils of wavy hair from beneath her bonnet, and suddenly realized that there was no use hiding from the truth any longer. She missed Heaton.

Even after so short a time at the magnificent estate, the contrasting clutter of the manor oppressed her even more. She recalled Heaton’s main salon, with its expansive view of the rolling parkland and lake, and wished she could empty her home of half its contents.

Despite the grandness of the formal rooms, there had been a feeling of lightness and spaciousness about Heaton that Mariah had quickly grown to love. Everything about the earl’s estate had delighted her senses. It was a place where she could spend a lifetime exploring and sketching.

It was quite strange, but it seemed to her, during those few days, that her life suddenly had so many possibilities. It was as if Heaton had uncovered depths of emotions and thoughts that she had not realized existed—depths she could not seem to examine here in Chippenham.

A vision of light blue eyes, dark hair, and broad shoulders came to her mind. Maybe it was not Heaton that had enchanted her so thoroughly, her heart whispered.

Stopping dead on the path, she scolded herself for her wayward thoughts. Days ago, she had vowed that she would cease thinking of the earl. Why would her thoughts keep returning to him when doing so only caused a sharp pain in her heart? She hardly knew herself anymore. It made no sense to think about a man so wanting in morals that he could carry on an affair with the wife of his friend, practically under that friend’s nose.

Yet she could not seem to muster her previous shock over such behavior. No, what came to mind more often was how she had been able converse with the earl so easily and how he had admired her drawings without even a hint of condescension. She recalled how they had teased each other and talked together and how he had given George fencing lessons on the lawn. She remembered the way he studied her sketches as if he were interested and, then, the barely leashed passion of their kiss.

These were the memories that caught at her heart, causing her to walk and walk until she returned home so tired that her sleep would not be disturbed by thoughts of the earl.

She reminded herself that leaving Heaton had been for the best; to stay would have just caused her more confusion regarding the earl. No, best to forget the earl and Heaton altogether. Besides, despite his gallantry concerning Lord Stothart, the earl had told her that her “vehemence was completely unnecessary.”

Again, as she had done almost every day since returning home, she vowed that from this moment on, she would have control over her emotions and forget that she had ever met the contradictory Earl of Haverstone.

***

By the time she returned home Mariah was tired and chilled to the bone. Passing several urns and chests and chairs and any number of sculptures, she made her way wearily upstairs, wondering if she could beg off dinner. A moment later, she thought better of it, knowing her parents would only cluck and pat all the more if she did not join them at mealtimes.

Opening her bedroom door, she saw Harris laying out her dinner clothes on the bed.

“There you are, Miss Mariah. I was just about to send a groom out to look for you. If you don’t hurry you will be late for dinner, and you know how that annoys the master.”

Mariah began to unbutton her coat, sending her maid a wan smile. “There is plenty of time, Harris.”

“A letter arrived for you, miss,” Harris said, placing a shawl next to the gown. “By messenger.”

Mariah’s hands ceased their activity. “A letter? Where?”

“On your desk. I’ve never seen anything as fancy as the seal.”

Mariah rushed across the room, knowing whom the letter must be from before reaching the desk.

Picking up the thick, folded parchment, she needed only the swiftest glance to recognize the handwriting.

“Julia!” she said with a heartfelt whisper. Breaking the seal, she sat down in the desk chair, unable to wait a moment longer.

“Miss, you will be late!” Harris cautioned.

“Oh, bother dinner. Julia’s letter cannot wait.”

Harris shook her head disapprovingly but left her mistress to read in peace. Unfolding the letter quickly, Mariah read:

Dearest Mariah,

I shall dispense with the pleasantries and tell you that I am on tenterhooks as to why you left Heaton in such a precipitous manner. Your last letter was much too brief and mysterious for my liking, but I have a very clever plan to bring you to my side.

I have been redecorating a number of the rooms here at Kelbourne Keep and find that I can no longer do without your exquisite eye for color and detail. I will send a coach for you and insist that you stay until shortly before Christmas. I am sure that your parents would not wish you to stay through the holiday, anyway. My dearest husband entreats you to come, and looks forward to seeing you again. Do say yes, Mariah dear. I will have the coach made ready so that it can leave the moment you respond to this letter. See, I take it for granted that I shall be seeing you within the fortnight.

Give your parents my regards, and tell them that I know they can do without you for a month. Is Steven still breaking the ladies’ hearts? I shall close now so that you may direct your maid to pack your trunks.

With my love, Julia

With tears shining in her eyes, Mariah felt a wave of gratitude and relief wash over her. This letter from her dear friend felt like a gift from God. To see Julia would be too wonderful, and the time away from home would be more than welcome. Now she needed only to convince Mama and Papa to let her go.

Impulsively, she left her room and ran down the stairs. Rushing through the house, practically knocking over delicate tables around every corner, Mariah finally found her mother seated at her desk in the little drawing room off the long gallery.

“Mama, I must speak to you!”

“Goodness!” Mrs. Thorncroft said as she looked up at her daughter’s flushed cheeks and shining eyes. “Such a flurry! I have been wondering where you had gotten off to. At least take off your redingote and sit down like a civilized young lady before you tell me why you are so excited.” Her smile softened her words as she set aside her quill and household ledger book.

“I’ve received a letter from Julia!” Mariah’s fingers flew over the dozen jet buttons down her deep cranberry coat. Flinging the garment over the sofa arm, Mariah pulled a chair close to her mother’s. “She wants me to come for a visit. She and the duke would like me to stay until almost Christmas. Please, Mama, will you speak to Papa? I would dearly love to go.”

With a look of surprise, Mrs. Thorncroft sucked in her breath. “Gracious! The Duke and Duchess of Kelbourne. I still find it hard to fathom that Julia Allard—always so unfashionably tall—has reached the zenith of the social world.”

“Never mind that.” Mariah waved away her mother’s oft-repeated lament. The whole family knew that Mama would never recover from her disappointment and envy over what she deemed Julia’s “good luck.”

“I would love above all things right now to visit Julia at Kelbourne Keep.”

Mama smiled, reached forward, and patted Mariah’s arm reassuringly. “Of course we may go. Will there be other guests as well? Perhaps some of the duke’s friends may be visiting? It would only be fitting that your oldest friend should use her connections to help you—”

The excitement froze in Mariah’s heart. “No, Mama! I do not believe that there will be other guests. I will let you read Julia’s letter—she specifically invited me. I do not wish to start an argument, but is there any reason I could not go alone? I would take Harris, of course, but I would love to visit Julia. . . .” She did not know how to explain to her mother how she felt without sounding disrespectful.

“You would like to visit Julia without me?”

With a pleading gaze, Mariah said, “That’s not what I mean at all. It’s just that . . .”

As she groped for the right words, her eyes clouded with distress. How could she say, right out loud, that if she did not get away from this house and away from the oppressive expectations of her parents she would run mad?

Mrs. Thorncroft leaned forward, a frown marring her youthful features. “What is it, Mariah? You may speak plainly. Your papa and I have noticed how unhappy you seem of late—since coming home from Heaton. Are you still upset over Lord Stothart’s insult?”

“No, Mama,” she said flatly. “I have not given Lord Stothart another thought.”

“Then what is so wrong? We have never seen you this way. You have always been rather quiet, but not like this. I do not believe you have sketched anything since our return. You spend all your time at the parish school or walking all over the countryside. We are becoming quite worried.”

Touched by her parent’s concern, Mariah marshaled a reassuring smile. “Maybe this dismal weather has put me in the doldrums. As for Julia’s invitation, it is not that I do not wish for you to come, but Julia made no mention of anyone else accompanying me. She wants my help choosing fabrics and paint for some of the redecorating that she is planning for her home.”

Mrs. Thorncroft continued to contemplate her daughter with a concerned frown. “In truth, it would be a most inconvenient time for me to leave. As you know, we shall be having a house full of relatives over the holidays. I had thought to do a little rearranging myself. Heaton has inspired me to make a few changes around here.”

Mariah raised a brow in surprise, distracted for a moment from the subject at hand. “Indeed? What have you planned?”