The Other Countess (15 page)

‘Get on wi’ it, you great brute!’ the carter shouted. ‘We’ve not got all day!’

Ellie couldn’t stand to see any animal mistreated and was just gearing herself up to intervene on behalf of the struggling horse, when her words were taken right out of her mouth.

‘No need to whip the poor creature, Taylor, he’s doing all he can.’ The earl himself had stepped forward. Ellie hadn’t noticed him because he was stripped to the shirtsleeves like his field workers as he gave them a hand with the wall. That must be a first: a lord of the realm doing an honest day’s work! He dragged a wrist across his brow, leaving a muddy
smudge behind. ‘We’ll have to lighten the load before your horse can pull free.’ Putting two fingers in his mouth, he whistled to his men. ‘Lads, come over here. Pile up the stones by the trough. Taylor, come hold the horse’s head while we do this.’

Six burly labourers downed tools and came to carry out the earl’s wishes. Ellie had mixed feelings about meeting the earl again so soon. Mostly she was afraid, unsure of his reaction, but a traitorous part of her was always on the watch for him. Caution won the day and she tried to slide behind the wagon to hurry out of sight, but she had not counted on the carter jumping down from his seat just as she tried to go past. The resulting collision ended with her in the hedge, fortunately just missing a patch of stinging nettles.

‘Oh, lass, I didn’t see you there.’ The carter recovered quickly and lifted her to her feet. ‘Did I hurt you?’

‘It’s nothing. Worry about your horse, not about me,’ replied Ellie, rubbing her toes which he had managed to trample.

‘What’s going on, Taylor?’ Of course, the earl would have to come see what the delay was about.

‘Ah, your lordship. I knocked the lass over like a skittle but she says she’s all right.’ The carter moved aside so the earl could see her.

‘Lady Eleanor!’ The earl exclaimed.

‘Hang it all, a lady. Just my luck,’ muttered the carter, realizing how familiar he had just been with her.

The earl smiled warmly at her. ‘This is a pleasant surprise.’

Ellie brushed leaves off her skirt. ‘Sadly, not so pleasant for me –’

His smile dimmed.

‘I ended up in the hedge.’ She inspected a bramble scratch on the back of her wrist.

Relieved that no personal slight was intended, the earl frowned at her injury. ‘I see what you mean. Let me take a look.’

Ellie cast an embarrassed glance at their audience of carter and six labourers, all of whom found this meeting much more interesting than moving a pile of stones. ‘There’s no need, sir. I’ll just get about my business.’

‘Come now, you’re still half attached to the hedge.’ He gestured to the bramble caught up in her petticoats.

‘Oh.’

‘Men, give the lady some room. Get back to work.’

On their master’s order, the labourers returned to their task and the carter went to calm the horse who was still floundering in his harness.

‘Please, let me free you.’ The earl knelt at her feet, trying to be discreet as he tugged the thorns free. Ellie looked down at the top of his golden head, wondering at the urge that came over her to run her fingers through his hair. She folded her hands together to make sure she didn’t give in to impulse.

‘There, all done. But I fear you may have some scratches down there too.’ The earl gestured to her ankles. ‘Not that I looked, of course.’

Ellie couldn’t think of a suitable reply to that, aware that her cheeks were broadcasting her feelings for her.

‘Are you able to walk home? If you give me a moment, I can reclaim my doublet and offer you my arm.’

Say something, you silly goose
, Ellie chided herself. ‘No, no, thank you, I’m really not hurt. I’m on my way into the village – I’d better leave you to your task.’

The earl’s expression turned to one of disappointment. ‘Truly? It’s no trouble for me. The men know what to do – I was only directing the work because I hate sitting idle at home. Barker here is my foreman – he can do the rest.’ He waved towards a bald-headed man who was now ordering the unloading.

‘But I’d spare you the humiliation of being seen with the alchemist’s daughter, my lord,’ Ellie said quietly, lacing her fingers together nervously.

The earl cleared his throat. ‘Ah, I deserved that, I suppose. It would be no humiliation, but an honour. You know that I’m no admirer of your father, my lady, but I find that I rather admire you.’

Ellie was flattered that the flirtatious earl she had first known at Windsor had returned. She smiled. ‘Admire a girl covered in leaves and bramble scratches? You have strange tastes, my lord.’

‘Guilty as charged.’ He gave her a playful bow.

Ellie bit her lip. ‘But why are you being so kind to me now?’

The earl reached out and plucked a dandelion seed from her hair. ‘You could say I’m mending fences today in more senses than one.’

‘Then you don’t regret allowing me to stay?’

He shook his head. ‘Oh no. I offer you protection on my lands, Lady Eleanor, as long as you need it. And if your father comes as part of that package, then I will learn to live with it.’

She suppressed a smile. ‘I’m afraid he does.’

‘Oh well.’ He smiled with a hint of self-mockery. ‘I’ll try not to think too much about it.’

Ellie dipped a curtsy. ‘Thank you, my lord. For everything.’

‘Good day, my lady, and welcome.’

She walked on, aware of his gaze on her back until she turned out of sight. That had been an odd meeting, but reassuring. She knew now she need no longer fear the earl – at least not for his hostility to her father. What danger he might be to her heart, was another matter entirely.

The next few weeks passed peacefully for Will. Preparations for the arrival of the Percevals went smoothly under his mother’s guidance: two guest rooms were newly whitewashed and the hangings aired and patched as discreetly as the sewing women could manage. Tobias was dispatched back to his tutor (much reducing the noise levels in the house) and James returned to college, promising to come home as soon as term finished to help entertain the guests.

To all onlookers, the earl (as Will thought of his official persona) appeared to be going about his normal duties, reviewing correspondence, walking his fields, listening to his tenants’ complaints, but inside Will knew it was definitely not business as usual. Against his better judgement, he could not keep away from Lady Eleanor and too often made an excuse to ensure their paths crossed. He felt as though his whole being was now revolving around that one little insignificant moon of a person, rather than the great weight of his earthly duties as the owner of a large estate and position of responsibility in the country.

Today was typical: he was supposed to be inspecting repairs to the windmill on Bowman’s Hill; instead, he had decided it was imperative he speak to the dame about her failure to attend church the past two Sundays. Normally, he would have left such matters to Vicar Bagley, but the
temptation to catch a glimpse of a certain pair of dark eyes was too much.

‘Diego, walk Barbary a while,’ he ordered his groom, slipping nimbly from his saddle.

‘Yes, O Great One.’

Will shook his head. Try as he might, he could not persuade the Moor to drop his overblown terms of address. He even suspected the boy did it as a kind of jest, but he could hardly complain that his servant was
too
respectful, could he?

‘I do not know how long this will take.’

‘No, master. The lady may not give you a kind welcome.’ Diego scratched Barbary’s nose, causing the stallion to snort with delight.

‘Dame Holton is always polite to me.’ Will tugged his ruff straight and ran his fingers through his hair, hoping it hadn’t got too dusty on the ride over. He’d put on his claret-red velvet doublet with gold sarcenet peeping through the eyelets, one of his favourites, hoping it would make him look his best.

‘I meant the little lady, O All Powerful One. The one with hair like the berry of the elderflower and the eyes of polished mahogany.’

Will stared at his servant in surprise. Had he been that transparent? Were all his people talking about his attraction to Lady Eleanor – and if so, what damage was he doing her reputation?

‘Where did you hear that, Diego?’

‘I hear nothing, Great Lord. I watch.’ The boy’s eyes rimmed with curling black lashes were dropped to his toecaps in a sign of humility, but Will could not fail to note the intelligence in his expression.

‘Do others watch?’

‘Everyone watches the magnificent lord of these lands, sir.’

That was true enough.

‘Do they gossip about the lady?’

Diego raised his eyes briefly, a glint of humour in his expression. ‘All talk all the time, my lord. They talk of the cow that gives birth, the flock of geese that escapes, the strangers lodging at the cottage.’

‘You know what I mean, Diego. I wouldn’t want any harm brought to the lady because I occasionally call upon her hostess.’ Will slapped his gloves into his palm, irritated that he might have to give up this visit to protect her.

Diego shook his head. ‘I think not, O Kind Master. The lady is much liked by her friends in the village and is considered a sweet-hearted maiden. No one speaks ill of her. You also are spoken of with much respect; they do not think you would pursue one of her nature with dishonourable intent.’

‘And they speak rightly. She is in no danger from me. I would thank you if you counter any words to the contrary and report the matter to me as soon as any malicious talk reaches you.’

‘Yes, O Great One.’

Satisfied that he had done all he could, Will strode down the path to the cottage, feeling his heart lift in anticipation of seeing Lady Eleanor. He knocked on the door and was delighted when she answered it. He was pleased to note that her face no longer fell when she saw him as she had come to expect friendly treatment.

‘My lord.’ She dipped a curtsy. Will thought she looked quite delectable in her plain sage-green gown and apron, her hair braided beneath a neat coif with the same orange
ribbon he had wrapped around the embroidery he had returned to her.

‘Lady Eleanor Rodriguez, Countess of San Jaime.’ He bowed.

She laughed, her cheeks dimpling at the use of her full title. ‘Fences all mended, sir?’

‘For the moment, I hope. Is Dame Holton within?’

‘I’m afraid the dame is from home. She went to market.’

Will rejoiced at this stroke of luck. He was spared the airing of an unpleasant subject with the stubborn lady.

‘I merely came to ask if she had an excuse for missing church the past few weeks, but the subject can wait.’

Lady Eleanor looked pensive, biting her bottom lip in a way that made Will want to kiss it.

‘Perhaps she had a chill,’ Lady Eleanor said loyally, though they both knew that the indestructible dame would not be felled by such a common complaint.

‘Then perhaps it is a matter best left for her to discuss with the vicar.’

‘Who is it, Ellie?’ a voice called from within.

Will stiffened. The alchemist. So far he had avoided meeting the man.

The lady squeezed her hands together awkwardly, trying to think of a way of avoiding this confrontation. None came to mind.

‘The earl, sir.’

A tall figure in dark robes trimmed with ragged black satin emerged from a room at the end of the passage, quill pen in hand. ‘Where are your manners, Ellie? Invite him in. My lord.’ Sir Arthur bowed low, quite forgetting their last bitter exchange.

Will took a step back. ‘I cannot stay, sir.’

‘That is a shame, my lord. I miss the conversation of learned men here in my seclusion. The ladies are well enough, but no match for a man in debate.’

Will marvelled at the man’s blindness. How could he possibly have forgotten the distaste Will had for him and his so-called learning?

The poor Lady Eleanor – Ellie as he now thought of her – was blushing as red as a robin’s breast. ‘I will see the earl out, Father.’

‘Aye, do that, Ellie. Show him that I have taught you some manners. Good day, my lord.’ Sir Arthur retreated back to his study, mumbling something about mercury solutions.

Will breathed freely once the man had disappeared.

‘Thank you,’ the Lady Ellie said softly.

He moved aside to allow her to show him out. ‘For what?’

‘For not speaking your mind. Father is …’ she searched for a word, ‘childlike in his view of the world. He does not see himself as others do. He truly has no perception of the harm he did your family.’

‘Or that he does you?’

She reached to unlatch the gate, but Will leant against the slats, preventing her from opening it. The hawthorn that arched over the entrance made a pretty white-blossom frame for her dark beauty and he wished to savour it. Looking more closely at her eyes, he saw the irises were flecked with tiny hints of gold.

‘I don’t know,’ she replied honestly, worrying her bottom lip again. ‘Sometimes he does realize, but it is like a drunkard with moments of lucidity; he soon tumbles back into his former state. I’ve given up hope of him ever sobering.’ She
looked down the lane to where Diego was walking his stallion. ‘Oh, is that your horse? I saw him at the joust, I think.’

‘Yes, he’s mine.’ Will was more than willing to let drop the painful subject of Sir Arthur. ‘Would you like to be introduced?’

‘May I? He’s magnificent.’

‘It would be his honour.’ Will whistled for Diego to approach.

‘And your servant – where is he from?’

‘North Africa.’

‘I’ve never seen anyone with skin as dark as his.’

‘Everyone in his country is like him and people to the south are even darker. If you were there, you’d be the oddity.’

She laughed again. ‘Yes, I suppose that’s true. They would think me a very sorry specimen.’

He doubted that. He could see her as quite a prize in some sultan’s harem.

‘Diego, this is the Countess of San Jaime,’ Will said as the boy came within earshot. ‘She wishes to greet Barbary.’

Diego flashed her his broad smile. ‘Barbary likes the ladies, my lady,’ he confided. ‘He likes them to stroke his nose.’

Will took her arm. ‘Approach from the side so he can see you.’ She advanced cautiously, her slight stature dwarfed by the huge stallion. Tentatively she reached out and gently fondled the soft skin around Barbary’s nostrils. ‘That’s it, Ellie. You have him charmed now.’