Surrender to the Earl (11 page)

Would Audrey see him?

He’d never met a woman he couldn’t stop thinking about, and now he had. Of course, her entire situation was so unusual—naturally he’d be concerned about how she was getting on with the servants. She’d been trying to keep her difficulties from him, he knew, so he hadn’t intruded. She was so proud of being able to do everything herself.

He hadn’t let himself think that she might have taken ill as well.

He heard a sound in the drawing room and went toward it. At that moment, Francis entered the hall and drew up short on seeing him. Robert held a finger to his lips; Francis’s gaze darted to the drawing room. He bowed and withdrew.

Robert moved carefully, stopping in the doorway. Audrey was alone, moving from one furniture group to another, exploring her world by touch. He experienced a profound relief and gladness that she was well. Standing still for several minutes, he watched the concentration on her face, the delicate way her fingers moved over each carved detail of woodwork. Satisfaction enlivened her expression as she touched the piano, and he knew how important music was to her.

Then she suddenly stilled and cocked her head. He knew he’d made no sound, and in the army, he’d been known for his ability to move stealthily.

“Robert?”

He shook his head in amazement. “Tell me that was a guess.”

She smiled, and now he could see the faint shadows beneath her eyes. She was working so hard, and his admiration only grew.

“Let us say . . . an educated guess,” she said. Her head dipped, and she murmured, “I am surprised by how much I can sense your presence. It must be from spending several days together.”

He was taken aback that she’d admit such a thing. He didn’t want to know she was so attuned to him.

But he was attuned to her. He kept remembering the soft sweetness of her cheek when he’d kissed her there, the way he’d almost turned his head to make the kiss more—and thought she’d almost done the same.

Just a momentary whim on both their parts.

He studied her in the morning light; she looked . . . fragile, as if she’d lost weight. “How is Molly?” he asked.

Her smile held relief, and it filled him with the same.

“Oh, she is better. I am so sorry I did not write to tell you. The fever only just broke and . . .”

“And Molly usually writes your letters, I know.”

Audrey smiled.

“I’m glad for her,” he said, moving toward her, “but you should have taken better care of yourself. I wasn’t certain if I’d find you in your own sickbed.”

And then he touched her face, cupped her cheek, needing to feel her health, needing to comfort. She closed her eyes and gave a soft sigh, even as she nestled her cheek deeper into his hand. They stood together a long moment, and he felt the peace that had been eluding him for days.

She was well, he told himself. He didn’t have to worry anymore.

She stiffened and stepped back, pressing her lips together in the semblance of a smile. He knew how she felt—that he was touching her when no one could see them, when he had no right.

“And what brings you to Rose Cottage today, my lord?” she asked in too cheerful a voice.

“You, of course. I did promise to assist you however I could. Don’t tell me you’ve gone to visit all your tenants without me, or made a triumphant appearance in the village.”

She laughed. “No, nothing like that. I’ve been here sitting with Molly. What have you been up to?”

“I’ve been receiving the first congratulatory notes about our engagement. They are all expressing surprise, for they’ve never heard of you.”

Her lips parted in shock, and then she covered them with her fingertips. “Oh no,” she murmured. “I am so sorry. And when they find out I’m blind—”

“You know I don’t care about that. And why are you sorry? The engagement was my idea, and it was bound to become common knowledge.”

“But you do realize how it
became
common knowledge,” she said, reaching behind her quite accurately for a padded chair, and sinking back into it.

“Servants talk.”

“Oh, not just servants. My sister went to London, and it’s not even the Season. What else would she have to do but spread the gossip that she would soon be sister-by-marriage to an earl?”

“Aah,” he said.

“You sound amused.”

“I am. And remember, she’s not the only one who left your house for London.”

“My brother’s friends,” Audrey agreed, shaking her head in bemusement.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“But it is an inconvenience to you, Robert, and I never wanted that.”

“The engagement wasn’t your idea, remember?” He pulled up a chair and sat before her. “I knew what I was getting into.”

“Days have passed now, Robert,” she said, lowering her voice. “It’s time to end this farce.”

“It’s too soon. I will not harm your reputation, so stop asking it of me.”

“Very well,” she said, her nose tilted in the air.

Something out of place caught his eye, and he glanced past her. “There’s a coal bucket—empty it seems—on its side in the middle of your carpet.”

She winced. “I forgot to pick it up. That’s what I was looking for when you came.”

“You are not the only one who can interpret voices, madam. Now tell me the truth. I may be ignorant of household duties, but I know the maid takes away the coal bucket when she’s done.”

“Not always.”

“You’re right—she could forget. You tripped, didn’t you?”

She sighed. “I’m all right.”

He rose to his feet. “It’s time for me to—”

“No!” She reached for him, and he caught her hand. “I am dealing with this, Robert. This is not any easier for me than it is for them.”

“They’re
servants
,” he said angrily. “They surely know what they’re doing. I’ve always believed that, unlike the rest of the army.”

“What do you mean?”

She gave his hand a tug, and he reluctantly sat back down. “In the army, the assumption is always that uneducated people are unintelligent.”

“They just haven’t had the same access to knowledge that we’ve had,” she said, her expression bewildered.

“We both know that, having grown up with servants. But as an officer, I’d often be ordered to oversee soldiers doing the simplest tasks around the encampment, as if they were incapable of digging holes by themselves.”

“But they knew you were watching, Robert. It’s different here, because I can’t
see
them. But I can comprehend the results. And the other thing that’s difficult to reconcile is how helpful they all were when Molly was at her worst. It was like we put aside our problems to assist her. We took turns in the sickroom. The Sanfords are the only reason I slept. So let me deal with them and discover what’s going on.”

“Then how can I help you?” he asked.

“Well, I just happen to have a list of my tenants and where they live. I’d like to visit them, but I need a driver. Can I trust you with my life on these country roads?”

He rubbed his hands together. “Now this I can do. I even drove a wagon through the Afghan mountains once, when there weren’t enough healthy soldiers.”

“I’m hardly a lumbering wagon, but I am useless cargo.”

“Useless?” He shook his head. “These tenants owe their livelihood to you.”

“To my dead husband’s estate, you mean.”

“To you. After all, you could turn them all out and convert their farms to sheep pasture, if you
really
wanted to make a profit.”

She gasped. “I would never!”

“I know that, but they don’t. Let’s go introduce you.”

Chapter 11

R
obert drove the little curricle, hood down, and the autumn sun shone down on them. Audrey wore a bonnet to shield her face, but he was glad to see color return to her pale cheeks.

“So what does it look like?” she asked with quiet excitement. “This estate of mine?”

He grinned. “Very well-maintained and picturesque.”

“You mean quaint and countrified compared to your noble castle,” she said dryly.

“Now don’t say that. I own a manor, too.”

“
A
manor?”

“Very well, I own several, some of which are in Scotland, and I haven’t seen them.”

She winced. “My, how above it all you are.”

“That is unfair,” he said mildly. “I did leave England at the age of twenty-one. Before I was twenty, I was at the mercy of my father’s schedule. He believed in delegating only when he absolutely had to.”

“I imagine people think I should be doing the same,” she mused. “I do have a land agent.”

“And you’re letting him complete his duties. You’re simply overseeing him.”

“Is that what you do?”

“Not exactly. My steward and lawyers have been overseeing the various land agents of all of my properties. To be honest, I don’t even know how many I have. That is what I’m home to rectify,” he added. “In India, it was too difficult to make day-to-day decisions when the mail roundtrip takes at least twelve weeks.”

“Your steward must be happy you’re home.”

“I’m not so certain of that. Remember I told you my father needed to be in control at all times? And I showed those tendencies before I left. I imagine all my servants and men of business are waiting to see what I’ll do now that I’m home.”

“We’re in the same situation, you know.”

“It’s good to have someone who understands how awkward all of this is.”

She smiled and lifted her face to the sun again.

“If I’m taking Molly’s place,” he said, “am I supposed to tell you you’ll develop freckles doing that?”

She gave a little groan. “No, never that. I already have freckles, and they’re not from the sun. They’re—”

She broke off, and he saw her face go all blotchy red before she turned away.

“You’re going to leave me like that? Where are the freckles?”

She lifted her chin. “None of your business. A gentleman wouldn’t ask.”

“I’m a soldier. We’re a crude lot.”

She ignored him, and he shook his head, smiling. She was far too easy to tease. Several peaceful minutes passed, where they listened to the birds, and he pointed out natural landmarks, a winding stream, a copse of trees sheltering a fox.

At last she asked, “Robert . . . do you think my tenants
want
to meet me? Am I making a mistake?”

He put his free hand on hers. “Not at all. This is a small estate, and you’ll all be living near one another. I believe it’s good for people to know they can come to you with questions. That’s one thing the army taught me, to take care of the men below me, to understand my responsibilities.”

“But I thought your father steeped you in your responsibilities whenever you weren’t in school?”

“But not the same way. I don’t think employees and tenants were real
people
to Father. They were chess pieces to be manipulated, like he was a god. One can make bad decisions when one doesn’t consider how the people themselves will be affected.”

And he’d been heading down that path, too. Investing had been a game to him, a new way to liven up what he thought was a boring life. Before he was even twenty-one, he’d been bored by gambling and much of Society, since he hadn’t been planning to marry right away. There were women, of course, but not the kind of women who cared about him, and wanted to be cared for in return.

“Ah, I think we’re approaching the first cottage,” he said, relieved to put the memories behind him.

“What does it look like?” she asked.

He could hear the trepidation in her voice. Cottagers often had terrible conditions in which to raise their children. But these were decent. “Thatched-roof, brick walls, and it looks as if they have at least three or four rooms inside.”

She let her breath out slowly. “Oh, that’s a relief.”

“I can see a little kitchen garden behind, flowers growing in front.”

“Even better.”

“There’s a goat tethered in the back.”

She laughed. “And I hear chickens in the yard.”

He jumped down, then reached up for her. She held on to the back of the bench, searching with her foot for the step down.

“Lean out to me. I’ll catch you.”

She frowned. “If you’ll just guide my foot—”

“You don’t trust me? Your own fiancé?”

She tilted her head toward the cottage, and he knew she was wondering who was observing them.

“There’s a little boy standing in the open doorway, thumb in his mouth. He’s watching us quite solemnly.”

She scrunched up her nose, and he laughed aloud.

With no warning, she leaned out from the curricle. He caught her waist in both hands, holding her suspended for an extra moment, so he could stare up at her face against the bright, cloud-dotted sky.

What was he doing?

Easing her down onto her feet, he resisted the urge to hold her close. She wasn’t his fiancée, much as they were pretending it for the world. She was a woman who’d been badly hurt—who never wanted to marry again. And he was a man who didn’t know what he wanted, didn’t know if he could ease back into his old life without easing back into old ways.

Keeping his voice low, Robert said, “A woman just came through the door, wiping her hands with a towel. She’s waiting near her son, hand on his shoulder, watching us as solemnly as he is.”

“We’ve probably frightened her. Take me to her, please. Don’t forget one of the baskets.”

She’d put several on the bench where a groom usually sat, a gift for each family, she’d explained: breads, tarts, jams, and meat pies from the kitchen at Rose Cottage. He’d seen Mrs. Sanford’s face when she’d been told what Audrey wanted—her expression had gone from pleasure to such a look of pain, he’d wanted to demand the truth of what was going on. But he’d bowed to Audrey’s wishes and kept his mouth shut.

Now he guided her through the little gate and past the late-blooming flowers, just as the woman stepped forward, putting her son behind her protectively. Robert didn’t tell Audrey that. “She’s straight ahead of us,” he murmured.

“Good morning,” Audrey said cheerfully, facing in the right direction. “Are you Mrs. Telford?”

“Aye, ma’am,” she said, her expression wary and resigned all at the same time. Her hands were reddened from hard work, and her dark hair was caught beneath a plain cap.

“I’m Mrs. Blake, the widow of Martin Blake, and now the owner of Rose Cottage. I wanted to introduce myself, since I’m now in residence for good. I’ve brought you a gift.”

She held the basket out before her. The little boy darted around his mother and came forward, eyes alight with interest, reaching for the basket. But of course, Audrey didn’t see him, and didn’t lower it to his level.

Mrs. Telford glanced sharply at Robert, the question in her eyes. He nodded, and a look of pity briefly overcame her wariness.

“I can’t reach it!” the boy cried.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Audrey lowered it to him, smiling when he pulled it from her hands. “What’s your name?”

“Billy.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Billy. Now show this to your mother,” she urged. “You’ll want to share with your whole family.”

“ ’Tis very kind of you, Mrs. Blake,” the other woman said.

“Your family’s hard work is in those breads, Mrs. Telford, and I wanted you to know how much I appreciate it. And please allow me to introduce the Earl of Knightsbridge, our distant neighbor.”

He bowed, but couldn’t miss the way Mrs. Telford’s expression turned to awe, and her shoulders, at first so straight with pride, now stooped forward as she tried to curtsy awkwardly. It reminded him too much of the way his father expected people to treat him—the way Robert had once assumed even his business partners should behave.

She pulled the little boy to her side so quickly, he dropped the basket, and a jar of jam rolled out. Robert went down on one knee to retrieve the jam and put it into the basket. Smiling, he handed it back to her and finally won a tentative, disbelieving smile in return.

“Is your husband at home?” Audrey asked, unaware that anything had happened.

“No, ma’am. He’s buying supplies in Hedgerley.”

“Then please tell him that anytime he has questions, he can always come to me. I know you’ve been dealing with Mr. Drayton, but I’m available, as well.”

Suddenly, the little boy’s voice piped up. “Mummy, the lady doesn’t look at us.”

Mrs. Telford shot a horrified glance at Robert, but it was Audrey who dropped to one knee this time, at the boy’s eye level.

“I can’t look at you because I’m blind, Billy.”

He gaped at her. “You can’t see at all?”

“No, not since I was seven years old.”

“I’m six.”

“You’re very smart for your age,” she answered.

Watching her, Billy stepped sideways, and although she certainly heard him, Audrey didn’t turn her head.

“I’m right here!” Billy called, as if delighted in a new game.

“Billy!” his mother scolded. “That is teasing the nice lady.”

Audrey straightened. “I don’t mind, Mrs. Telford. Children have questions. I’d rather they ask me than treat me like I’ll break.”

“Thank you, ma’am. And the treats look real good.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll give Mrs. Sanford your compliments. And please offer my regards to your husband.”

Mrs. Telford sank into a better curtsy this time.

“It was a pleasure to meet you,” Robert said.

She blushed and managed her first smile.

Once he’d helped Audrey back into the curricle, and they were on the road again, she grinned up at him.

“That went well, didn’t it?” she asked.

“It most certainly did. You won them over with your charm and sincerity.”

“She didn’t take my blindness too poorly, but what else would she have done with the Earl of Knightsbridge standing guard over me?”

“You inflate the effect of my presence.”

“I don’t think I do, but thank you. So can you see the next cottage yet?”

For the next couple hours, Robert had the privilege of watching Audrey introduce herself to her tenants. The families often greeted her with more enthusiasm than her servants had. He almost hated to be introduced because it spoiled the day for him, distracting attention away from Audrey. She didn’t seem to mind. Several tenants brought problems to her attention, a leaking roof, a dispute over boundary lines, a bachelor farmer about to take a wife and wanting to be placed on the list for a larger cottage. She listened gravely and promised she would consult Mr. Drayton and have the problems taken care of. And since she was used to memorizing the layout of so many rooms, Robert had no doubt her well-trained mind would not forget each problem.

“All of our baskets are gone,” she said, as they drove away from the last little cottage. “Should we go home now?”

“I can see the village just ahead.” He saw the uncertainty pass over her face. “Have you visited yet?”

“I have not. I was so busy unpacking, and then Molly became ill.”

“I think we should have our luncheon there. It’s been a long time since I’ve been ‘seen.’ ”

“That is important,” she said solemnly. “Your people would like to know of your return.”

“I think they already know. And they most likely know you’re my fiancée,” he added, still watching her.

She swallowed. “You don’t have to do this, Robert. We’re not really engaged, and even more people will eventually know I cried off.”

“Do you think I care about gossip?” he asked quietly. “I have been the subject of it before. Our engagement is for a good reason. First you’ll be known as my fiancée, and then you’ll be known as the woman who figured out I didn’t deserve her.”

Her smile gradually widened. “Well, if you put it that way . . .”

“Then you’re game?”

“I’m game. Shall we visit all the shops?”

“Every one of them.”

She gave a merry laugh, and it rang out behind them as he urged the horses onward. Because they drove a carriage without a coat of arms, no one took much notice of them at first, except as strangers. But after Robert reintroduced himself and his fiancée to the butcher and then the grocer, word must have spread out before them, and the bookstore owner was already outside his door waiting for them.

Audrey knew she was only along for the ride, but she vastly enjoyed it. Much as Robert was a kind man, she heard the confidence in his voice as he spoke to people, the understanding that he’d be respected, even obeyed. It was an unconscious thing among the nobility, she decided, a way of being raised that set them apart. She wanted to resent it, knowing she’d always had to obey the men in her life, but today that voice, that earl, was helping smooth her introduction to her new neighbors. Though she felt foolish being introduced as his future bride, there was a warmth of belonging she’d never felt before. She certainly didn’t trust it, of course, knowing she could only rely on herself. But for now, she’d take strength where she could get it. By the time the villagers heard she was no longer engaged, hopefully they would know her well enough to sympathize rather than pity.

The vicar introduced himself and promised that his wife would come to call soon. The milliner suggested ribbons to go with bonnets, and Robert bought her some.

At the White Horse Inn, he didn’t even try to suggest a private dining parlor, and she was glad. They introduced themselves to the innkeeper, and the dining parlor grew crowded with people who might not normally have a late luncheon. She could hear the chatter and the whispers, felt themselves the object of speculation—and she didn’t hate it. Perhaps people ought to be more aware that just because a woman was blind didn’t mean she couldn’t live a normal life.

After the innkeeper himself waited on them, Audrey sat back and teased Robert: “You must enjoy how easily people do what you want.”