Timeless Passion: 10 Historical Romances To Savor (70 page)

“No one seems to have been close enough to hear,” she told her. “Not even Henry.”

Guilford and Lydia could be heard arguing on the lower floor, though their voices were indistinct. Soon, Rhianna heard a light knock at the door. Katie rushed to her feet to answer it, and found Audra standing teary-eyed at the threshold.

“Miss Braden?” the girl asked, a lump in her throat.

“Come in, come in,” called Rhianna. “Whatever is the matter?”

Audra rushed into her arms. “May I sleep with you tonight?”

Katie silently excused herself as Rhianna stroked Audra’s hair. “Of course, you may. But why do you not want to stay in your own lovely room?”

She sniffed and wiped her moist eyes with her fingers. “I can’t hear them as well here. And we can talk of pleasant things.”

“Oh, there,” said Rhianna, resting her hand on the girl’s damp cheek. “Pleasant things like Lord Crispin?”

She giggled through her tears. “Yes.”

It was not the first time Lord and Lady Kingsley could be heard arguing within the manor, but it was the first time Audra Kingsley had come to her governess for comfort. Rhianna was touched and immensely happy that the girl thought to come to her.

“Well, hop in,” she invited, pulling the bedcovers back. “Tell me everything he had to say tonight.”

Instantly uplifted, Audra said much in a short span of time. It was not long before the comfort of the pillows, blankets, and Rhianna’s company — as well as her exhaustion from a full night — overcame the girl. Audra fell asleep contentedly beside her governess.

Rhianna, her mind racing — not only with Katie’s report, but the night as a whole — did not hope to have it so easy. Nor did she wish it. As Rhianna blew out her candle, she looked forward to hours of silent meditation, ready to fight sleep away if ever it came to claim her.

Chapter Seven

Guilford Kingsley sat as still as he possibly could while Audra put the finishing touches on his portrait.

“Is it very like me, Miss Braden?” he asked, fighting a grin.

“Oh, yes,” she confirmed, standing behind the easel as Audra stroked her brush liberally on the canvas. “Very like, indeed.”

There was a hint of humor in her tone, but Audra seemed oblivious. She squinted over the finer points, holding her breath as she made adjustments and smiling when satisfied.

“May I take a look?” Lord Kingsley requested, attempting to rise.

“Do not
move
, Papa!” cried Audra. “It is almost finished.”

“You mustn’t interfere with an inspired artist at work, Lord Kingsley,” Rhianna reminded him, smiling.

“Certainly not,” he agreed.

Moments later, a servant entered the schoolroom and announced an impending carriage.

“Oh!” cried Rhianna happily.

“Your friends must be here!” declared Audra.

Rhianna hurried to the south window and looked out over the approach.

“Why do you not go to them?” suggested Lord Kingsley. “Audra and I are almost done. We will follow shortly.”

Rhianna spun around, biting back a wide grin. “Are you quite sure?”

“We insist, do we not, Audra?”

“Oh, yes! We will be there directly.”

“Thank you both!”

Rhianna flew down the stairs, through the Great Hall, and out the front door to the gravel drive. In the open gig they had rented at the inn, both Soleil and Philippe nearly stood at the sight of her, despite two horses at full trot and several yards of travel yet to go.

“We nearly jumped from the carriage half a mile back, certain in our excitement to outrun the horses!” cried Soleil.

“And outrun them we would!” declared Philippe. “But we feared a broken leg or two might dampen our adventures.”

“Good heavens, that you should conspire to do any such thing!” cried Rhianna, as the carriage slowed to a stop. “Never mind, now that you are here. Make haste!”

Both brother and sister leapt to the ground before any servant could assist them, and both took their turns embracing Rhianna. Rhianna’s hand, when once intertwined with Soleil’s, could not be pried away, and she was less than anxious for Philippe to remove his hand from the small of her back. For a moment, everything seemed right, with the best of both England and France joined in one location. Rhianna had never felt more at home than at that moment.

“Welcome!” called Lord Kingsley, approaching them from the manor house.

Audra raced ahead of him to greet them. “
Bonjour
!” she called, in an exaggerated French accent.

“
Bonjour
!” Soleil and Philippe echoed, amused.

Their bags were removed from the carriage by the time Lord Kingsley reached their small group. His movements were slow and he struggled to catch his breath. Since dinner with the Brightons two weeks past, his health seemed to be steadily declining, though he would not admit it.

Rhianna made the introductions, her heart swelling with unimaginable joy.

“Welcome,” Lord Kingsley repeated, extending his arms warmly. “I know I speak for the rest of my family when I say how glad we are to have you stay with us. I hope you will make our home your home. Stay as long as you wish.”

Effusions of thanks followed as the happy group made their way inside. Once they were comfortably seated in the drawing room, conversation flowed effortlessly while all manner of refreshments and cakes were served and enjoyed. Even when Lydia and Desmond arrived to greet them, awkwardness could not exist amongst Soleil and Philippe’s animated expressions and high spirits. Every compliment was paid to the Kingsleys themselves, their home, and their generous spirit. Lydia even seemed not to mind them, and Desmond, although Rhianna imagined he could do very well without Philippe, did not appear at all adverse to the presence of Soleil.

Rhianna could not have been more content. It was as if no break in their association had ever transpired and she felt none of the anxiousness she’d imagined she might with Philippe. Their company relieved her of all worry and, in ways she did not expect, renewed her feelings of familial attachment.

There was no want of dialogue. For some time, they could hardly keep up with the questions each had for the other. Much was covered, all promises of health for the Vallière family were ensured, and a general review of the previous year not already communicated by letter was fully established by all parties, albeit modified for a general audience.

The tears burst forth later, long after the afternoon and evening had passed. Rhianna hardly knew how the day had escaped, as she and Soleil languished blissfully on her bed in the rose room. Here, enjoying their first moments to themselves, all the emotions at last caught up with them. Soleil and Rhianna laughed at themselves as they sat with moist eyes, their handkerchiefs in hand.

At last, Rhianna felt at liberty to make a very important inquiry. “Now you
must
tell me. For weeks, I have waited and I cannot wait another second!” she declared, her hands clasped tightly around Soleil’s. “What is it that you could not tell me except in person?”

Soleil glanced at her with the greatest of smiles before answering, “Armand has proposed! We are to be married in the spring!”

The explosion of delightful feelings this news released could only be fully expressed by an embrace.

“Oh, Soleil! This is the most wonderful of news!”

“I am so very, very happy.”

“I can imagine! Certainly, I recall him being very agreeable the one evening we met,” Rhianna recollected. “And Marquis and Marquise Vallière? What do they say to it?”

“They are very pleased,” Soleil declared blithely. “And I shan’t be very far from them, not more than fifty kilometers.”

“And what does Philippe say to it?”

“He has told me that Count Deveraux is an excellent man, and I could not have done better had chosen the gentleman himself!”

“Well, that settles it, does it not? It is the most desirable of situations!” admitted Rhianna. “And, you really love him, Soleil, do you?”

“I do,” she affirmed. “I love him, truly. I wish everyone could feel as I do.”

“Well,” Rhianna said, satisfied not with her friend’s words only, but with the whole of her countenance, “I cannot begin to tell you how very delighted I am for you. He is a very fortunate fellow!”

“No, indeed, it is I who am the fortunate one.”

A brief recount of the engagement itself was relayed, but for Rhianna it would hardly satisfy. “I want to know
all
the details,” she declared at once. “I must know everything about him, and how you came to this point.”

“Why do we not save that for tomorrow?” Soleil suggested. “The hour has grown late and I want us to get our rest so we can fully enjoy every moment of tomorrow. Lord Kingsley’s suggestion of this Thornton Gardens seems just the place for such pleasant reminisces.”

Rhianna agreed. She walked Soleil to the door and goodnights were exchanged. When the door was closed and Rhianna lay down in her bed, she fell soundly and peacefully asleep.

• • •

Philippe held the invisible reins of his imaginary horse, donning a large feather hat that he discovered in the theater costume closet. He gestured dramatically from the stage of the Kingsleys’ theater, while Soleil, Rhianna, and Audra sat as spectators, giggling riotously.

Rain beat wildly against the windows, shattering all hopes of their going to Thornton Gardens for another consecutive day. Not one of them was sorry for it, however, as they easily entertained themselves simply by being together.

Philippe addressed them, saying, “This story is incomplete without a lady in distress.”

His eyes turned toward Rhianna daringly, but she had no intention of volunteering. Audra, meanwhile, was quick to step forward, saving her governess from any further insistence from him.

“I shall be your lady!” she cried, hopping onto the stage. Dressed in an oversized cloak from the same wardrobe closet and tied at the waist with a golden rope belt, she cried, “Hark! The dragon!”

“
En guard
!” Philippe thrust a fictitious sword wildly into the air. “I believe we have frightened it away,” he declared, catching his breath.

“No, indeed,” answered Soleil, rising also to the stage, “for I have only ordered it away. I am queen of this land and the dragon answers to me. I warn you to leave and never return!”

Audra’s eyes widened with the story and she tugged on Philippe’s sleeve. “We must go at once, and save my older sister, as well!”

Philippe looked ready to stay and fight, but suddenly echoed, “Older sister, you say? Are not
you
my lady in distress?”

“Behold!” Audra pointed to Rhianna, holding her arm to her forehead theatrically. “You must save us both, or
neither of us
!”

“No, indeed,” Rhianna laughed. “I am enjoying this far too much from my current point of view.”

Philippe leapt to the floor before her with eagerness. With straightened shoulders and an arched back, he held out his hand to her.

“Fair maiden,” he implored, “I beg you to come with me. I promise you will find protection both from the wicked queen and her wretched dragon. Not only that, but your little sister has sworn to perish if you refuse.”

Such a display could hardly go unrewarded. Rhianna took his hand and rose.

“To where shall we run?” she asked, the corners of her lips turned upward.

Philippe quickly pulled her near to him. “Running is out of the question,” he said, in a tone more serious than the role required. “I am going to fight for you.”

“Hurry!” called Audra. “The dragon has returned!”

Philippe hesitated, his gaze locked with Rhianna’s and his acting skills failing him miserably. Finally, he gestured for her to take her place beside Audra. She did not waste a moment in joining the girl on stage, as Philippe’s pretend arrow pierced Soleil’s heart.

“Oh!” she groaned, reaching for a feigned wound.

As Soleil collapsed to the stage floor, Audra laughed heartily, her hands around her stomach. “This is fun, Miss Braden, do you not think?”

“It is very much fun,” Rhianna returned.

Philippe approached them. “Just as when we were children,” he reminisced.

Rhianna had many fond memories of performing with Philippe and Soleil in the privacy of the Vallière ballroom. Frequently, a temporary stage converted it into a theater when close friends were invited, either to observe or be included in the cast of their amateur theatricals.

Philippe’s reference to these happy times was clearly intended to invoke sentimentality in her, and she did not wonder at his intentions. Several days had passed since their arrival and Philippe had not been secretive about his continued feelings for her. He left no doubt that those feelings had not only been renewed, but intensified, and he had all but spoken of the subject aloud. Rhianna anticipated it was only a matter of time before he did so.

In a quick instant, a different ballroom flashed through her thoughts. This one, conversely, was not filled with an audience, but rather only herself and a particular Englishman whom she had not seen in more than a fortnight. Her eyes rested on Philippe, but it was Thayne who looked back at her.

She had not heard any mention of him from the Kingsleys, and though she suspected that neither Lydia nor Desmond was anxious to receive the Brightons as guests in the near future, Rhianna expected Thayne’s regular business visits with Lord Kingsley would continue upon his return to Thornton. Despite the inclement weather that continuously dampened her hopes of his coming, each day she allowed herself a little anticipation.

With difficulty, her mind returned to the moment at hand. After acknowledging the pleasant childhood memories to which Philippe had referred, Rhianna offered to continue their tour of Kingsley Manor, which at the discovery of the theater had been nearly irrevocably hindered.

The rest of the household was very little inconvenienced by their visit, and they spent the following rainy days confined to Kingsley Manor without any interruptions to their felicity.

• • •

Cold and bare as it was, Thornton Gardens never lost its beauty. Regardless of the time of year, one could not but enjoy a walk along its long, winding pathways, or admire its verandas and columns. An assortment of stone and wood bridges connected one corner of the garden to another and promised serenity with every stroll. In this very place, countless young ladies’ hands were requested in marriage, not to mention the precious memories of many a stolen kiss.