The Uncatchable Miss Faversham (16 page)

    ‘I am not jealous,’ Eleanor replied, managing a soft laugh.

    ‘Then what did you mean?’

    ‘Merely that you need not waste your efforts on me, my lord. There must be many young women for whom your attentions would be more welcome. You are not exactly a pauper.’  

    ‘Indeed,’ he muttered. ‘Which is just as well, considering that my looks commend me more to the part of Caliban than Romeo.’

The doors to Faversham Hall stood open as they approached, a burning torch stuck in the brackets on either side of its great studded wooden entrance, making it seem more medieval than ever.

    Her quick reply, not to be so ridiculously melodramatic, died on her lips as she realised that her butler, her estate manager, and several men from the village, were gathered together on the steps. Some were holding lanterns, others had long sticks tucked under their arms. A number of dogs ran about their heels, barking excitedly, with a scruffy young boy chasing them.

    ‘Oh dear.’

    Nathaniel had seen the welcoming party too, his tone dry. ‘What have we here? Is there to be a hanging, I wonder?’

    ‘I must have been missed earlier than I’d thought.’

    ‘Perhaps I should have left you at the gate. Instead, here’s a fine turn-up- the mistress of the house gone for hours, and returning accompanied by her wicked neighbour. Now all the tongues will be wagging. Will you not save your reputation and accept my hand after all?’

    ‘No thank you,’ she said primly, and was relieved to hear Nathaniel laugh, even if his laugh was not very convincing. ‘You had better leave.’

    ‘And miss their expressions of parochial outrage? No fear of that, my dear Miss Faversham. Look how they stare! Here, do sit up a little straighter and stick your chin out. You’ll never carry off the debauched insouciance of the Quality slumped over like a sack of potatoes with your neck sunk on your chest.’

    ‘You’re insufferable! I do wish you would go away.’

    ‘That makes two of us.’

    ‘Many thanks for your kind escort, Lord Sallinger. Such good luck to have run into you like that,’ she said loudly, entirely for the benefit of their audience, then leaned towards him, her tone acidic. ‘I’ll let your sister know you haven’t hanged yourself. How very disappointed she will be!’

    The men on the steps were gawping at them now, clustered around the doorway. The estate manager, Reynolds, was making his way towards them with a frown on his face.

    Nathaniel kissed her gloved hand, bowing low. His scarred face seemed oddly dashing tonight, and she found herself unable to pull away as she ought to have done. ‘It seems you’re right. This is my cue to exit. Your servant, Miss Faversham.’

    A thrill ran through her at his touch, and as she inclined her head her voice was suddenly husky. ‘Sir.’

From his vantage-point under the trees, Nathaniel looked back with a stab of regret as Eleanor was swept into the Hall by her over-protective servants. Then he urged Warlord into a trot with the lightest of kicks, deciding to return to Sallinger’s Folly via the village, a longer but ultimately safer route in this darkness than following the meandering course of the river. He might even drop into Jack Underwood’s house, if the front windows were still lit.

    She had thrown herself at him and he had found the strength to resist. Yet that humiliated look in her eyes still haunted him.

    Had he been a fool to turn her down after all?

    Entering the darkened village, Nathaniel was relieved to see a faint light still burning in the window of the Underwoods’ cottage.

    He made straight for that refuge, suddenly dog-tired, his thigh aching in the saddle. Sallinger’s Folly was a fine and private place to be alone with his torments and ironies. Tonight, however, he needed something to help him
forget
what his life had come to.

CHAPTER EIGHT

It was raining hard as Eleanor hurried across the wet gravel under Foster’s umbrella, lifting the hem of her green silk gown to avoid the worst of the puddles. The landau – which had finally returned from the Lovetts – awaited her, its door thrown open, steps down, and Suzanne already busy inside, arranging two hot bricks for their feet.

    It was still early, barely nine o’clock, the kind of hours she would never have kept in town. But she had been awake most of the night, fretting to leave Warwickshire before she had to face Sallinger in public again.

    Was that a stab of pain in her heart?

    It seemed incredible, but there could be no doubt. Her feelings towards Lord Sallinger were beginning to soften. Because of the way he had made love to her?

    She searched her conscience, determined to be truthful with herself. No, though it might have been because of the look in his eyes as they parted. Or the severity of his scarred profile, the constant aloofness that told her how much he dreaded her pity. Not that she had the slightest pity for him. Nor could she deny that the touch of his hands on her body ...

    ‘Miss Faversham?’

    She dragged herself back to reality with an effort, pausing in the rain before the open carriage door.

    ‘What is it, Foster?’

    ‘Should we put the Holland covers back on the furniture, Miss?’ She could tell that Foster was upset by her abrupt departure, though the aging butler would never have dared comment on her behaviour. There was only a slender hope in his voice. ‘Or will you be returning for the summer?’

    ‘I shall go to Brighton for the summer months,’ she said gently, not wishing to hurt his feelings but unwilling to lie. ‘So yes, cover the furniture. I am sorry to be leaving, but I’m sure you and Mrs Foster will keep the place in good order while I am gone.’

    ‘Of course, Miss.’

    ‘Ideally, I should arrange for another tenant to move in. It wouldn’t do to leave the house empty too long, Warwickshire is such a damp county.’ She paused before climbing into the carriage, looking back over her shoulder at the comfortable red brick walls, the Elizabethan candy-twist chimneys, with a sudden tug of nostalgia. ‘Though perhaps I shall return at Christmas, and arrange for a tenant next year.’

    Suzanne was glaring at her from inside the comfortable carriage. ‘Better to get in now, Miss Nell. Or your hair will be ruined,’ she muttered, gesturing to Eleanor’s carefully arranged ringlets, wilting in the damp weather; the Grecian style had taken her maid some half an hour to achieve.

    Foster looked shocked at the maid’s sharp tone but Eleanor merely smiled, used to Suzanne’s nagging ways.

    ‘Very well, I’m coming,’ she agreed placidly, gathering her gown to ascend the wet steps into the carriage.

    She knew Foster was still frowning though, disturbed by the suddenness of her departure. But it could not be helped.

    The thought of seeing Nathaniel again had been enough to propel her out of her warm bed that morning before it was even light, instructing an astonished Suzanne to pack their bags and throwing the sleepy household into a panic by announcing her decision to leave after breakfast.

    Her brief scribbled note to poor Charlotte, letting her know where to find Nathaniel and that she herself would be returning to London immediately, had been difficult to write. Though at least now she could be comfortable, knowing that she had not left Warwickshire this time without so much as a word to her oldest friend. Charlotte must now be wondering exactly what had transpired between Eleanor and her brother last night to make her flee the county at such short notice again.

    ‘Now, don’t agitate yourself, Suzanne,’ she began to tell her maid, a touch of acid in her tone. ‘You have only recently breakfasted and agitation is not good for - ’

    Foster had taken a step backwards, frowning into the rain from under his thick-handled black umbrella.

    ‘Miss Faversham,’ he interrupted, then coughed, embarrassed by his own indiscretion. ‘I do apologise, Miss, but it seems a carriage is approaching. One of Lord Sallinger’s carriages, by the look of it.’

    ‘Oh no!’ Eleanor could not prevent the horrified exclamation and saw both Foster and Suzanne look at her in surprise.

    Drawing her dignity about herself carefully, she descended the steps of the carriage and waited under the shelter of Foster’s umbrella once more. If Sallinger must be faced, then so be it. But he would not be able to persuade her not to return to London. Of that, she was determined.

    ‘Well, this must delay us a few moments, I suppose,’ she muttered. ‘But not for long. The horses cannot be kept standing in this rain.’

    Yet when the door to Sallinger’s carriage was opened, it was Charlotte who looked out through the dark weather, swathed in a heavy black cloak, her pretty face flushed with some strong emotion. ‘Oh Nell,’ she cried, peering out but not braving the rain. ‘I got your note. Are you leaving already?’

    Eleanor stepped quickly forward to press her friend’s hand. ‘I must, I’m afraid. Please don’t get down, this rain is quite dreadful.’

    ‘Well, if you’re going to London, then at least take me with you!’ Charlotte said wildly.

    ‘I beg your pardon?’

    Her friend bit her lip, her flush deepening. ‘My brother has still not returned. He does not care what happens to me, cooped up in that great big house all on my own, with no one but little Robert to amuse me. It is so unfair! He knows how much I long for modish new gowns and hats and ... oh, and for parties, even if I may not dance. Please say you’ll let me accompany you to London, dearest Nell?’

    ‘Charlotte, it’s out of the question. Undertake such a long journey in your delicate condition? If anything were to happen, your brother would never forgive me.’

    ‘What has Nathaniel got to do with it?’ Charlotte demanded passionately. Her eyes pleaded with Eleanor’s. ‘If my husband were here, he would not keep me a prisoner in my own home. It is only because no one dares stand up to Nathaniel that allows him to behave like an absolute beast towards me.’ She hesitated, her lower lip trembling. ‘But you always stand up to him, Nell. You are not afraid of my brother. Why not take me to London and ... and
hang
the consequences?’

    ‘Charlotte!’

    ‘Forgive me for being rude. But I won’t stay in that dreary old house a moment longer, Nell. Please rescue me and take me to London, even if it’s only for a few days!’

    Eleanor frowned, uncertain. ‘What about your son?’

    ‘I brought him too, with his Nurse.’ Charlotte beamed at her, no doubt seeing how she wavered. ‘Don’t worry, you won’t have to put up with his noise. I already thought of that. We’ll take both carriages to London. Little Robert and Nursey can ride in this carriage, and I will ride in yours. If that’s agreeable?’

    ‘I have Suzanne with me.’

    ‘Oh, she could ride with Nurse. Then we can be comfortable together and talk in private.’ Charlotte looked at her imploringly. ‘Please say yes!’

    Eleanor sighed, feeling her resolve weaken in the face of her friend’s pleading eyes. ‘Oh, very well.’

    ‘Thank you, thank you! You are such a darling!’

    ‘But first you must come inside and write a note to your brother. Lord Sallinger will be understandably anxious when he finds you gone.’

    Charlotte shook her head. ‘No need. I’ve left a note for when he returns. Not that Nathaniel will care a button that we are gone! He quite dislikes dear little Robert, you know. Nathaniel frowns at him all the time. His only nephew, can you believe it?’

    ‘It is almost incredible,’ Eleanor smiled, shooting a wry glance in at the red-faced child who, intent on tugging a seam of gold braid off the carriage’s plush upholstery, was ignoring his Nurse’s feeble remonstrations.

    ‘Then we may come?’

    ‘Indeed, I should be a poor friend if I said no, after all your violent pleas and protests. Though I only hope you shall not be unwell. The roads are not very good between here and London, you know.’

    ‘Pooh, who cares about a little sickness? Even if I am sick all the way, I shall be content, thinking of all the exciting things we shall do together when we reach London!’

    Gingerly, Eleanor asked Suzanne to step down and change carriages. As expected, her irascible maid pursed her lips at the request, muttering mutinously under her breath as she crossed the gravel. Poor Suzanne, forced to sit all day in a bouncing carriage with Nurse and little Robert!

    But it would not do for Suzanne to listen in to their conversation all the way to London; her sharp-eyed personal maid had always been able to guess her emotions about Nathaniel with little prompting, and if his name came up, as it was bound to, it would be hard to keep a certain pain out of her voice for hour upon hour.

    Charlotte, on the other hand, was too wrapped up in her own problems to notice. Besides which, she had always known that some tension existed between her brother and Eleanor, and rarely commented - perhaps realising how useless it would be to interfere.

    ‘To London, then,’ she instructed the driver, then sat back as the landau jolted forwards.

    Presently, through the trees, she caught a glimpse of Sallinger House and had to repress a shiver at the thought of Nathaniel’s reaction when he discovered that not only had she returned to London, but had taken his sister and nephew with him.

    But it was no more than he deserved.

    Safely installed together in the carriage, the two women enjoyed a light conversation for the first few hours, with Eleanor patiently answering her friend’s excited questions about the latest fashions and places to be seen in London. Warwickshire was soon left behind, and the road broadened as it entered Oxfordshire, with other carriages passing and pretty little towns for them to admire from the window. Once the bricks underfoot lost their cosy heat though, and the rain turned heavier, beating violently against the roof and doors of the carriage, both fell silent, wrapped in their cloaks and staring out at the bleak countryside instead.

    The steady rocking of the carriage made Eleanor intolerably sleepy and, not having managed much sleep the night before, she did close her eyes for a short while. As soon as she let her guard down, a scarred face rose before her, darkly seductive, and she swore she could feel masculine hands on her body, stroking and caressing her in the most intimate manner.