Why Earls Fall in Love (6 page)

“Or so you think,” she said pertly. “Fresh air is hardly a guarantor of truthfulness.”

“Why, Mrs. Mowbray, I had no idea you were capable of such taunting,” he said, with a grin.

“For shame, my lord,” Georgie said, looking up at him from beneath the brim of her bonnet. “You forget that I also spent my formative years surrounded by scores of young soldiers with hours between battles to spend flirting.”

That seemed to give him pause, for he lost his customary poise for a moment and gaped at her. Then, almost as quickly as he’d dropped it, his charming mask returned.

“Were you a flirt?” he asked, dipping his head slightly to look her in the eyes. “I somehow doubt it.”

She fought the instinct to look away, knowing somehow that she had to hold his gaze. “Not so much as my sister,” she admitted with a shrug. “But I had my moments.”

“I’ll bet you did,” he said, evidently seeing something in her gaze that satisfied him. He nodded and that elusive dimple appeared again.

They continued on in companionable silence for the rest of the ride, the ebb and flow of conversation of the group ahead of them an accompaniment.

*   *   *

“I don’t suppose you’d like to tell me what happened last night,” Con said, resuming their conversation once they’d left the horses and carriage behind and continued the rest of the way on foot. “What made you cry out.”

Though he’d known the question would break the ease between them, he also knew that the question had to be asked. He felt her stiffen beside him, but when she made to remove her arm from his, he clamped down on her hand and held her there. “Do not fly up into the boughs. I merely ask as a friend.”

“As a friend?” she asked skeptically. “There is no such thing as friendship between an earl and a lady’s companion, my lord.”

“Why not?” he asked, diverted from his original question. “You are a friend to not one but two duchesses. And they are far more elevated than a mere earl.”

“Do not attempt to cloud the issue, my lord,” Georgina responded firmly. “I thought I saw a mouse. That is all. Nothing to concern yourself with. Nothing that could endanger your aunt. You must know that I care enough about her not to keep something from you that might truly endanger her.”

“But there is a difference, Mrs. Mowbray, between something that you think might endanger her and something that I think might endanger her. We are of two different perspectives after all.”

“You are splitting hairs, my lord,” Georgina said tightly, and Con could see that she was growing frustrated. “It is my concern and no one else’s. And has absolutely no bearing on your aunt’s safety.”

At last.

“Then you admit that there was more to last night’s to-do than an imagined mouse?” he demanded, stopping and grasping her arm to pull her to a halt as well.

She stopped, but wrenched her arm free. “Yes,” she hissed, keeping her voice low, though his cousins were long gone down the path. “Yes, something other than a mouse upset me last night, but I assure you that was all. A simple trick of the light. Nothing more.”

He could see from her expression that whatever had happened frightened her more than she was willing to admit. “It worries you,” he said. It was a statement, not a question. He did not like to see a woman like this overset by anything. She was too strong for that. And it was a mark of just how dangerous whatever had disturbed her was, that it could cause her real fear. “Doesn’t it?” he prompted.

Her expression softened under his gaze. “I am quite well,” she assured him. Then, laughing, she said, “It was nothing. Really, it’s amusing in the light of day.”

Con clenched his jaw. There was something wrong here. He was sure of it. “I beg that you will tell me what it is so that I might share the joke,” he said, unwilling to let her continue without revealing her secret.

Perhaps realizing that he did not intend to let the matter drop, Georgina’s shoulders fell and she spoke in a voice that was low enough to not be heard by his young cousins ahead of them. “It was the oddest thing, but through the window last night, I thought I saw my dead husband standing in the garden.” Her voice was strained as she said it, and when she made eye contact with him, he could see how hard she was trying to appear unflappable in the face of what must have been a highly disturbing moment. “There,” she said brightly, “is that not amusing? That I should have thought to see a ghost? It’s ridiculous.”

He wasn’t sure what he’d expected her to say, but it wasn’t that.

Wordlessly, he took her hand and tucked it into his arm.

“What made you think it was your husband?” he asked after a few moments. “I mean, was it the man’s face or his clothing, or what?”

He felt her exhale, as if she’d been holding her breath lest he didn’t believe her. “I suppose it was just the general look of him. Though if one were to be exact, this man was wearing a coat and boots and breeches, whereas my husband was normally in uniform. But this man had his height and build. And his hair looked to be the same light brown shade as Robert’s.”

“So, it wasn’t your husband as you remembered him?” Con asked. “Not as if he’d walked straight out of your memories?”

“Well, no,” Georgina said after a moment. “That’s odd, isn’t it? I mean, if I were going to imagine him there it would surely have been as I’d seen him, wouldn’t it? I could hardly remember him in a way I hadn’t seen him.”

“The mind is quite good at tricking us into all manner of things,” Con said. “But, no, I don’t think you’d remember him in a way you’d never seen him. Of course, it might have been some stranger down there who you then imagined to be your husband since you’d been thinking of him moments before.”

“But I wasn’t,” she protested. “I was thinking of … other things.”

Interesting, he thought, tucking away that tidbit for later. “Whoever it was, he had no business loitering in my aunt’s back garden like that. I’ll go take a look at the spot when we return from our walk.”

“Oh, do not go to any trouble,” Georgina said vehemently. “I do not wish to impose upon you with my foolish imaginings. It’s the reason I told no one what happened. Not only do I feel like a flibbertigibbet, but I also did not wish to worry anybody.”

“Mrs. Mowbray,” he said firmly, “you are as far from being a flibbertigibbet as any lady I’ve ever met. And I really must insist upon checking out the scene for myself. If this man was indeed standing back there last night, then I need to know who he was and what he was doing back there. Not only for your sake but for my aunt’s as well.”

He felt her deflate a bit beside him. “Oh, I suppose,” she said with a slight sigh of resignation. “Though I do hope you won’t tell anyone else. Your cousins and their wives already think I am out of place in your aunt’s house. Goodness knows what they will say if they hear I’ve been imagining my dead husband.”

“You leave my cousins and their spouses to me,” Con said, grateful to have an excuse to speak to the others. He’d been none too pleased with the way they treated her last evening, and now he could tell them to leave her be with good reason.

*   *   *

By the time the party reached Farley Castle, with its crumbling walls and towers rising into the sky, it was lunchtime, and their walk having given them all an appetite, the party made short work of the baskets of food Lady Russell’s cook had made for them.

“It really is lovely, isn’t it?” Lydia asked as she waited for her cousin James to finish peeling her apple. “I’ve never been very interested in old estates and the like, but even I can admit that the ivy growing over the gatehouse is quite picturesque.”

Con, who had finished his lunch and taken up his charcoal and sketchbook, looked up from his work. “I am glad to hear you say it, Cousin, for I’d begun to fear there was nothing in that pretty head of yours but silliness.”

“You needn’t tease, Con,” she responded with a frown. “Not all ladies can be as serious as Mrs. Mowbray.”

Georgina had been packing their lunch things back into the basket they’d carried them in, but at Lydia’s words she looked up. “Oh, I am not so serious as all that,” she responded to the younger lady. “I simply do what I must to ensure that my behavior does not reflect poorly upon your aunt Russell.”

Before Lydia could respond, Georgie saw Con exchange a look with James, who handed the peeled apple to Lydia and rose from the blanket they were seated upon. “Let’s go take a look at the tower, Lyd,” the younger man said, reaching a hand down to help her up. Georgie expected the girl to protest, but she allowed him to pull her up.

“My aunt isn’t here now, Mrs. Mowbray,” Lydia said, tucking her arm into James’s and turning to walk with him in the direction of the far tower.

“I hope you will not refine upon Lydia’s teasing, Mrs. Mowbray,” Philip said from the same blanket that Lydia and James had just abandoned. “She is still quite young.”

Looking at the way the young man sprawled back on the picnic blanket, one ankle crossed over the other, at his ease in that way only young men could manage, she would have liked to ask young Mr. Callow whether he was Methuselah’s age, but bit her tongue before she could say the words. He was hardly to be blamed for his cousin’s words, or his youth. Remembering herself at that age, she was grateful to be past it. Aloud she said, “I daresay you are correct, Mr. Callow. I thank you for your concern.”

Georgie had supposed that she was quite adept by now at dampening the pretensions of young men in search of affection from an older lady, but apparently she was not as skillful at the task as she thought. For Philip’s next words were to ask if she’d care to accompany him to view the intact tower ruins.

“I have been assured by friends that they are quite sound, Mrs. Mowbray,” he told her, standing over her as she finished packing the basket. “There is no danger, I promise you.”

Georgie was not unaware of her own appeal to the opposite sex. It was difficult to come of age surrounded by dozens of young men in search of dalliance without knowing that they liked the way she looked. But, since her return to England, she’d been careful to ensure that whatever allure she possessed was hidden beneath drab gowns and severe hairstyles. Such measures did not seem to work on Philip Callow, however.

Perhaps he was the rare man who could see past her disguise.

Then, noticing the way he glanced at his cousin Con, seated behind her, she saw that whatever had prompted the young man to ask for her company had more to do with Con than with her. Interesting, she thought.

“I should like that very much, Mr. Callow,” she said to Philip, accepting the hand he offered to assist her to rise from the blanket. “I have always been fascinated by ruins.”

Not surprising her in the least, Georgie heard Con flip his sketchbook closed behind her. Turning, she saw him rising as well. “I’ll come along, Cousin,” he said to Philip, who was not so ill-mannered as to show his displeasure, but if Georgie wasn’t mistaken, was not best pleased by Con’s decision to come along.

With a slight shrug, Philip tucked Georgie’s arm into his and led her across the open field toward the tower on the opposite side of the castle from the one that Lydia and James had set off for.

“I suppose you’ve never seen something like this before, have you?” Philip asked her as they approached the ruin. “It is truly remarkable, isn’t it?”

In fact, Georgie had seen any number of crumbling estates and towers in ruin as she crossed Europe with the army. Clearly Philip had no notion of what it meant to cross the continent on one’s feet. “It is remarkable,” she responded, ignoring the first part of his query. “I shall never become used to the sight of what must at one time have been a beloved family home falling into such disrepair.”

“Oh, I daresay whoever lived here was well off enough to build another, better home,” the young man said dismissively. “It is the way of the world. One house crumbles, and you buy another.”

Before he could expound further on his theory, the voice of Lydia intruded. “Philip!” she called. “Philip! You must come and see! It’s the most extraordinary tomb you’ve ever seen!”

Soon Lydia and James appeared over the horizon and hurried their way. “They are perfectly carved in the shape of the dead person, Phil. It’s positively ghoulish! You must see it.”

For a flash, Georgie caught a glimpse of what Philip as a little boy must have looked like. He appeared to debate within himself whether he should go with Lydia and James or continue whatever it was he wished to accomplish with Georgie.

Thinking to spare him the inner conflict, she placed a hand on his arm. “Go and see,” she said firmly. “I will walk with Lord Coniston. And I’ve no wish to see any ancient burial sites. I’ve seen quite enough of death for one lifetime.”

“If you are sure,” Philip said a bit guiltily. He spared a look back at Con, who stepped forward to take Georgie’s arm in his younger cousin’s stead.

“So be it,” he said, patting Georgie on the arm as if she were a favorite spaniel. “Show me these tombs, then, Lyd.”

“How fickle the young men are these days,” Georgie said with a shake of her head as she watched the trio disappear back over the hill.

“You don’t really mean to tell me that you are disappointed,” Con said with a roll of his eyes. “I might not have years of war experiences behind me, but I wasn’t born yesterday.”

Allowing him to lead her around toward the back of the tower where the doorway and the stairs were located, Georgie gave what was suspiciously like a snort. “Hardly,” she said with mock disgust. “I am not an ancient, but I believe I have the good sense to avoid entanglements with men as young as that.”

“Aha,” Con said, feeling more satisfaction at her pronouncement than he should, “then you admit to entanglements with men!”

“Well, I will hardly become involved with entanglements with women,” she said calmly. When he laughed she stopped. “What is so funny about that?” she demanded. “It is only the truth.”

But Con knew that now was not the time to explain just how entanglements between women might work, so he patted her on the hand and nodded his agreement. “You are perfectly correct. Forgive me. I simply thought of something that amused me.”