An Improper Companion (8 page)

“Well,” I said equably, “perhaps he will prove a calming influence.”

“Hmmm,” was all he said.

“What tale will you tell him of our marriage?” I asked.

Leslie, shrugged, staring at the ground. “None. There will be no need. He is not the sort to ask such questions and his wife will not be with him.”

“But if he should?” I persisted.

“I shall tell him the truth: that I married you straight from the schoolroom.”

I was far from reassured, but there was that in Leslie’s
manner
which warned me not to pursue the matter. And in truth I could not say Leslie was mistaken concerning Lord Pellen. I had so little knowledge of men that I could ill gauge how the earl would react. How bitterly aware I was of the differences between my upbringing and that of other young women! I felt only anger toward my unknown father. How unfair that I must suffer because of his carelessness! Had Leslie fathered a child out of wedlock, I should have welcomed it into my home as my own rather than see it follow the course I had. Or worse. I had seldom felt so alone as I did in that moment. For always before, I had been able to believe that one day all would be well. One day I would find love. Now I had no such hope. For the briefest moment I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned and looked up to see Leslie beside me. He cleared his throat and said, “Perhaps we should go back.”

I nodded and rose. As I approached my mare I felt none of the trepidation I had known earlier. Leslie lifted me easily to my perch and again I was unable to repress a shudder. He appeared not to notice, however, and I was relieved he did ! not reproach me. Still lost in self-pity, I preferred not to speak. My silence nettled him for after a time, Leslie said, “Do you expect me to disappear simply because you ignore me?”

I flushed. I could not admit he was right. What I should have said in reply I do not know, for it was at that moment I spied Philip. He was cantering toward us and I remember thinking that he looked very handsome. Why could I not have been married to him? I wondered bitterly. I waved to Philip, my eagerness restrained only by the unease I felt as to my seat. A glance at Leslie’s face sufficed. He was not pleased. Yet he forced himself to greet Philip pleasantly enough. “Good morning, nephew. You’ve a fine horse there. One of Bradley’s breakdowns, I collect?”

Philip grinned, “Yes, prime blood ain’t he? You needn’t read me a jobation about expense, either, for I won him in a wager.”

“And the counterbid?” Leslie asked easily.

Unaccountably, Philip flushed. “Well, I shouldn’t like to say in front of Heather.”

My curiosity whetted, I said airily, “Such fustian! Go ahead and tell us.”

Leslie started to object then, oddly, changed his mind for he said, “Yes, tell us, Philip.”

Still flushing, Philip spoke to Leslie, “Well, you recall the opera dancer you said I must be rid of? I had just come round to the same point of view when Thomas offered me a wager. I’d nothing else to bid so it was this horse against the key to the girl’s place. Well, I’d have given it to him for nothing at that point and instead I won this gelding.”

“And the girl?” I asked faintly. “She didn’t mind?”

“Why should she?” Philip asked, frowning. “Thomas is devilishly handsome and has more of the ready than I do. I thought myself rather clever.”

Leslie seemed to be laughing. “I am afraid my wife does not understand these things, Philip.”

“No, I do not!” I retorted. “And I wonder you encourage him, Leslie!”

“Oh, I neither encourage nor discourage,” he replied easily. “I avoid meddling in Philip’s affairs as much as possible.”

“Oh, I say, Aunt Heather, don’t nab the rust,” Philip said, “I daresay the girl was as tired of me as I was of her. Besides, she was only an opera dancer, they expect such things.”

He had placed a hand on the mare. I drew her back and said icily, “Since the two of you find it so amusing, I leave you to yourselves. Leslie is quite correct, I do
not
understand such matters!”

With dignity and a skill with horses I did not suspect, I carefully drew my horse away from theirs and set off for the castle. Inwardly I seethed. Were all men so horrid? I had yet to meet one who was not! I was sufficiently angry that when my mare desired to break into a fast pace, I forgot all sense of fear and encouraged her. Thus it was I arrived at the stables with my hair flying behind me, the pins scattered somewhere, and out of breath. With difficulty, I halted the mare. A groom ran forward and grasped the reins and held the mare steady as I slid to the ground. “Did she run away wi’ ye?” the fellow asked anxiously. “She’s normally sich a gentle ’un.”

Feeling exultant after my ride, I laughed. “No, she did not run away with me. I wished to see how fast she was.”

“And Sir Leslie?” he continued, still anxious.

I was by this time headed to the house and I called carelessly over my shoulder, “Oh, he is somewhere with Master Philip.”

I was as astonished as the poor groom when, in the next moment, Leslie’s horse galloped into the courtyard. He dismounted immediately, tossing the reins over to the alarmed groom. Frozen in amazement, I could only watch as he strode toward me, his face an unreadable mask. He grasped my arm fiercely and demanded, “Are you all right? How came your mare to bolt like that?”

I laughed uneasily, “Oh, she did not bolt, Leslie. I urged her to the pace myself.”

As I spoke, disbelief crossed his face, then he shook me angrily. “You fool! You’ve never sat on a horse before today and you ... you
crammed
her? I suppose you would have enjoyed being thrown? Well, you’ll not ride alone, do you hear? And if you try such a trick again I’ll have you barred from the horses altogether!”

I grew angry. What right had he to dictate to me? Rebellion grew as I retorted, “I shall o as I please!” Then, in an instant, I knew how to wound him. Smiling and lowering my voice so only his ears could catch my words, I said, “Why should you object? Surely it would serve your plans best were I to be found dead in a field somewhere, my horse bolted.”

Leslie turned white with fury and I pulled back, afraid he was about to strike me. Philip’s voice halted both of us. “I say, Aunt Heather! What a neck-or-nothing ride! Leslie was worried your mare had bolted, but I said you knew what you were about. You both look quite furious. Has Leslie been ringing a peal over you, Aunt Heather?”

Before I could respond, Leslie had released me and was striding to the house. And the port, I told myself. I forced a smile at Philip who had handed his horse over to the groom—who was pretending to have noticed nothing. Philip offered me his arm saying, “Let me escort you in. I daresay you’re as famished as I am and no doubt my mother is eagerly awaiting us. Can’t think what’s gotten into Uncle Leslie, though. Does he often kick up such a fuss? No, don’t answer, I shouldn’t have asked. But to me it’s the outside of enough that you are tenant-for-life with him! I can’t help feeling sorry.”

I turned and said icily, “I can do without your pity.”

“No offense,” he said hastily, “only you’re so lovely to e cooped up here. It don’t seem fair. If you were my wife, I’d flaunt you all over London.”

The idea was almost pleasant and I laughed, “Would you? And what else would you do?”

As soon as I had spoken, I regretted my words. They were highly unsuitable and an answering flash in Philip’s eyes unnerved me. I began to chatter hastily, “Never mind. We ought to go find your mother, Philip. And I had best change from my habit. And my hair needs repinning. I’d best go directly up to my chamber. I shall see you later,” I said, and gathering my skirt, I fled.

Ellen was waiting. An afternoon dress had been laid out on the bed. “My lady!” she exclaimed as I came through the door, “what’s happened? Your hair!”

I flushed, aware of the spectacle I presented. I forced myself to enter the room slowly. “Oh, I had a bit of a run with the mare Sir Leslie gave me. A bath and some new pins in my hair will set all to right.”

“Yes, my lady,” she said dubiously and went to order bathwater.

I sat at my dressing table staring at the mirror image that was me. All the words spoken that morning passed through my head again and again. Already I regretted my impropriety in encouraging Philip. And the. words I had hurled against Leslie in the yard. Was I still such a widgeon that I could never curb my tongue? I felt weary and unwilling to face Leslie. But I was no coward to hide in my room. Mary also must be faced and told the rooms should remain as they were. I felt tears welling in my eyes and cursed myself for a pea-goose. It was the time of month, I told myself, that made my emotions so unsteady. The bath soothed me, as did Ellen’s gentle fingers resetting my hair. And I am enough a woman that the new afternoon dress I wore made me feel almost gay. It reflected, as I had come to expect, Mademoiselle’s impeccable taste. Forgetting my earlier words, I went to the library seeking Leslie. He sat at his desk, poring over certain reports. “Yes?” he demanded without looking up.

The iciness of his voice halted me and brought back the memory of what I had said. I advanced more slowly. I had almost reached the desk when Leslie looked up impatiently. He obviously expected a servant, for at the sight of me he started. He rose slowly until he towered over me even from behind the desk. “Well, madam, have you come to insult me further?” he asked bitterly. “If so, please spare yourself the effort. I am not interested in your opinion of me.”

I flushed but did not lower my eyes. Leslie’s arms were folded across his chest and I reached out to place a hand on them. “No,” I said gently, “I’ve come to say I am sorry for the words I spoke earlier.”

Beneath my hand, I could feel a little of his stiffness fall away. He shrugged and said roughly, “It is of little consequence.”

I shook my head. “I wish it were. But even so I could not have let it pass without apology.” I removed my hand from his arm.

Almost he seemed to soften, but before I could be sure, he had turned his back and was staring at a shelf of books: “I have always preferred,” he said slowly, “pound dealings. I can not blame you for speaking plainly this morning. If that is how you see me.”

I moved to his side and said in sharp protest, “But that is
not
how I see you! It’s my wretched temper! I speak without thinking!”

He looked at me, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. After a moment he laughed. “Yes, you have a temper! Very well, I accept your apology. But I meant it when I said you must be more careful when you ride.”

I nodded gravely, then said shyly, “I also wished to thank you, Leslie, for the clothes you ordered from Mademoiselle Suzette for me.”

He smiled. “They please you?” I nodded. “I collect you’re wearing one of the new dresses. Stand back so I may see it.”

I did as he commanded and turned about slowly so he might see it from every side. He nodded approvingly, “It suits you well. I am glad you are pleased, Heather. If there is aught else you need, tell me.”

I shook my head. Already I felt Leslie had been over-generous, and in truth there was nothing I needed. Leslie, however, disagreed, for he said abruptly, “I’ve ordered a shipment of books for you, of various sorts. A few novels, but most are somewhat weightier.”

I stared at Leslie in amazement. Truly, had we met under other circumstances I might have liked this man. I stammered some form of thanks. Gruffly he replied, “My library is in need of more recent volumes. And in any event, you may not approve my taste.”

He glanced away, but not before I had seen the gleam of satisfaction in his eyes. So! I thought, feeling a cold chill. I should have realised. Sir Leslie is very experienced with women and hopes to seduce me with gifts. Well, he shall see if I can be so bought. “Pray forgive me, Leslie,” I said in a cold voice, “I have other matters to attend to.”

I dropped a brief curtsy and retreated, noting with pleasure the surprise and dismay evident on Leslie’s face. Outside the library I permitted myself to smile. I was not quite so green as Leslie believed! I was only angry at myself for having forgotten that this was the man who had ravished me and who had been in the habit of having women sent up. No doubt he was weary of celibacy. But if so, let him look to the village jade for consolation!

Chapter 7

Even in such a large castle there was no privacy. As I turned from closing the library doors, I encountered Mary. “My dear, is anything wrong?” she asked anxiously.

I did my best to smile for I felt reluctant to share my troubles with anyone. “No, of course not. I am simply somewhat fatigued.”

Mary shook her head. “Leslie! He should not have kept you riding so long. And Philip said something about a quarrel?”

“No, no quarrel,” I said hastily. “Leslie simply scolded me for some carelessness. Well deserved, I assure you.”

She looked dissatisfied but chose not to speak further of that matter. “Heather, my dear,” she said tentatively, “pray forgive me for speaking frankly, but ... well, do you think it wise to encourage Philip so? He is an impressionable young man and if you are not careful, you will have him in love with you. That would serve no one’s interests, I am convinced. And he is a bit young, my dear, to supply that which Leslie does not. ”

I was not certain I fully comprehended Mary, but I understood enough to grow angry. “I see Philip simply as my husband’s nephew. He is a pleasant companion but that is all. I believe you overrate my charms, ma’am, if you believe Philip could fall in love with me.”

“Oh, dear!” she replied, “I have set up your back! I know
you
have no such thoughts, my dear, I simply meant that
Philip
is apt, occasionally, to be rather heedless. And he does find you so very attractive. But there! I am sure there is no need to speak further of the matter. My dear, if I did not like you so well, I would not have bothered to speak of it at all.”

I found myself wishing she detested me. But then I chided myself for such thoughts. After all, she only meant well. And perhaps she was right. “I will remember what you have said,” I assured her.

She smiled. “I knew you would understand, my dear. Now, I confess I meant to speak with Leslie, but the matter can wait. Instead, perhaps we can discuss the drawing room? I thought blue curtains—”

“No.”

“NO? Well, perhaps gold?”

“Please, Lady Mary,” I persisted, “I would rather leave the curtains as they are. In fact, I would prefer to leave the entire room as it is. As well as the rest of the castle. I’ve no wish to change anything.”

Mary regarded me stubbornly and I met her gaze unwaveringly. At last she lowered her eyes complaining, “Oh, very well. But it’s so unfair, you know. I’ve hoped for years to have a hand in refurbishing the place.”

I was amused. “So Leslie told me.”

“Leslie told you?” She seemed incredulous. “You and he seem to be on remarkably close terms in view of ... of ... well, I must say it surprises me.”

I bit my lip. “We are not on such very close terms as you think, Lady Mary,” I said, not wishing to deceive her or raise false hopes. “Every encounter seems to end at dagger point! And as for ... well, I do not believe we shall ever share a bed. Though I suspect Leslie bamboozles himself into thinking it may be so.”

“Oh, dear,” Mary clucked, “I had hoped the two of you might eventually be reconciled. What of children? Don’t you wish for any?”

I stared at the floor. “What I would prefer is unimportant. could not bear the thought of ... Not even to have children.” I raised my head proudly, “And I would not stoop to be unfaithful.”

Mary sighed. “Well, of course the two of you must resolve such matters. And I do understand your point of view. Remember, I shan’t put up with Leslie mistreating you. If you’ve problems, come to me.”

I spoke honestly. “It comforts me to have an ally. Yet I prefer to cope with Leslie myself.”

She nodded sagely. “Of course, of course, my dear.”

I had forgotten where we stood and felt an icy chill as
Leslie
spoke from the library door. “Of course
what
?” he asked.

I cursed Mary silently as she flushed and said in a guilty voice, “Oh, nothing, Leslie.”

His eyes swept over me mockingly as he bowed ironically. “Then may I suggest we seek the dining hall for some refreshment?”

I wished nothing more than to flee to my bedchamber but could not. Whatever else he believed, Leslie should not have cause to call me faint-hearted. Leslie offered his sister his arm and she took it, fluttering still. I walked behind, feeling keenly my hatred for this man who could inspire such embarrassment where there ought to be none, and I clenched my teeth. In the doorway of the dining hall, he allowed Mary to enter first and stood aside for me. As I passed him he whispered, “How fierce you look. Is the table to be a battleground then?”

I smiled sweetly. “Not unless you choose to make it one.”

He smiled grimly. “Oh, not I. I am a pacifist.”

The sally lasted but a moment and Mary noticed none of it. A fact for which I was grateful. Philip did not put in an appearance and I, conscious of Mary’s words, was relieved. Leslie virtually ignored me to talk with Mary and I felt nettled, for he questioned her on matters I felt quite sure could not interest him. Mary, oblivious to such things, chattered happily about her husband’s estate and her other children. My only consolation was that Leslie must find the conversation even more tedious than I did. I was about to excuse myself from the table when Mary changed her topic of discourse. “... quieter than you were, Leslie. Eleanor and Katherine thought you unruly, spoiled, and a nuisance. But you weren’t truly bad, simply high-spirited. As for spoiled...” “As for spoiled,” Leslie broke in, speaking evenly, “I never had the chance to be. Mother would pay her duty calls to the nursery once a week to see me, but I scarcely call that effusive. As for Father! We both know how he felt.”

“Yes, but Leslie, surely it would have helped had there not been those
incidents
,” Mary protested.

Leslie’s voice was steel. “I was
not
responsible!”

“Now, now, Leslie. I never blamed you. And certainly I sympathised with your dislike of the cat, for example...”

Something in Leslie’s face made even Mary pause. “Yes, well, after all these years it doesn’t matter.”

Leslie rose. “I am not in the habit of telling Banbury tales, Mary. Nor do I choose to discuss further such a distasteful subject. Particularly in front of Heather.”

Mary looked at me as though she had forgotten my existence and she hastened to apologise. “I am sorry, my dear. So dreadful for you. I hope you don’t misunderstand ... such incidents were not frequent...”

“Mary!” Leslie’s voice was a warning and she fell silent. He spoke to her, but his eyes were on me. They did not, as I expected, plead with me to believe him, but challenged me, with cool contempt, to disbelieve. Yet I could not. I cannot say why except perhaps that I thought I knew him well enough to be sure that had he been responsible for those “incidents” he would not lie about it now. I lowered my eyes. At this Leslie laughed bitterly. As he strode from the room he called, “Well, my dear, I hope you are pleased. You’ve turned Heather even further from me!”

Agonised, Mary said, “I didn’t mean...”

I cut her off. “Please. I understand. And Leslie is mistaken. If you will excuse me ... a slight headache...”

No longer concerned about whether I was being rude, I rose hastily and fled to my chamber. Ellen was waiting and clucked over me. I accepted her suggestion of a nap eagerly. On no account was I to be disturbed until I rang for tea. In truth, it was not sleep I needed, but privacy. As the door closed behind Ellen, I chose a novel from the bookshelf and tried to read.

I stayed in my room that afternoon, not caring if anyone felt me rude. Mary would understand and she was the only one who mattered. I did not even consider the possibility that anyone had come to call. The local gentry knew of our marriage, but most were away. And none would call until they were certain that I had the proper background. Which, of course, I did not. Not even Mrs. Gilwen’s excellent school could efface the unfortunate circumstances of my birth. Perhaps in London there might be hostesses who would receive me, but not in this conservative country milieu. I had left cards, at Leslie’s insistence, but it came as no surprise to me that the gesture was not reciprocated.

The afternoon’s respite was enough to calm me and I could look forward to the evening. And wearing yet another new gown. I was not such a fool as to concern myself only with dresses and trinkets and such. But for so many years I had had nothing and I could not feel it wrong to enjoy my new possessions. It felt wonderful and strange to know I had a closetful of dresses and that none needed patching, none needed refitting. I am sure Mr. Watly would have been shocked, but I could not suppress the thought that if my fate must be so, it was as well Sir Leslie were wealthy and generous. But I still felt keenly that poverty should have been preferable to my present state.

Ellen dressed my hair with special care and helped me into my gown. In the mirror I seemed older, for the dress had been designed for a young matron. As usual, Ellen was pleased. “My lady, I’d not have known you for the girl who showed up that day at Mademoiselle Suzette’s. You look that lovely now. If Sir Leslie does not have a
tendre,
then he be blind. And his nephew.”

I smiled. Dear Ellen! I wondered if she ever imagined herself in my place. I think she would not have hesitated to forgive Leslie. Every morning she glanced at the door to Leslie’s chamber and, I have no doubt, checked to see if it were still bolted. Sometimes I half expected her to scold me. I could not know about the other servants, but Mrs. Morgan clearly shared Ellen’s opinion. She had accepted me as mistress of the household, and even held a grudging respect for me. But often she would gaze at me with sadly chiding eyes until I wanted to tell her to stop! That it was not her affair.

I arrived at the drawing room early and found only Leslie. He bowed stiffly and said coolly, “Madam. Good evening.”

I replied as coolly, with the faintest of curtsies, “Sir.”

He flushed slightly at the insult. “I hope, madam, you were not unduly distressed by my sister, earlier. Mary occasionally forgets herself.” I murmured a denial. “Of course. I had forgotten. Your opinion of my character is such that no tale could shock you further.”

I moved toward him and placed a hand on his arm saying impulsively, “Leslie, I cannot believe the things Mary implied.”

His eyes searched mine for a moment, then he asked mockingly, “Why ever not?”

Stung, I sought for a suitably retort, but none came. And even as I searched, Mary’s voice intruded. “Good evening, my dears. Leslie, when you take Heather to London, you shall have to be careful. All the young men will flock around her.”

We greeted her in turn, both I believe, relieved by her neutral presence. Then Philip entered the room. He was, as always, dressed with exquisite care. I was too green to know he aspired to the dandy set but thought he cut a dashing figure. As he greeted me I remembered Mary’s warning and felt unaccountably shy. Nor did the romance I had been reading do aught to steady me. “Good evening, Philip,” I managed, conscious of a slight flush as he insisted on kissing my hand with a courtly gesture. “How have you spent the day?”

“Oh, out and about,” he replied carelessly. “I visited the village. Quite provincial, of course, but with one or two good inns. But then, you know what it’s like.”

I felt a hand on my shoulder as Leslie replied for me. “Actually, Heather hasn’t seen it yet.” As disbelief crossed Philip’s face Leslie continued smoothly, “I’ve been too eager for my bride’s company to give her time to explore the local countryside.”

“But on visits before you were married?” Philip persisted, puzzled.

“My dear boy,” Leslie said, “I married Heather straight out of a London schoolroom. I was too eager for the ceremony to worry about conventional visits and such.”

Philip sighed. “I never would have guessed you to be so romantic, Uncle.” Then he grinned. “Or were you worried about competition? Rightly so, I must say! Heather, you look ravishing.”

Poor Philip! He looked so astonished at the faces Leslie and I made. How was he to know how unfortunate his choice of words had been. Mary was the one to bridge the awkward moment. “Philip, lead Heather in to dinner.”

Leslie stood behind my shoulder and I could not see his reaction to Mary’s command. Nor could he see my face or the shyness I felt as I took Philip’s arm. Wanting to be kind to the boy, I chose a topic I was sure would please him. I asked about his new horse. Flushed with pleasure, he answered eagerly. This carried us as far as the table. Unfortunately, it also carried us through the first course. Mary was an excellent horsewoman and Leslie quite a top-sawyer, in fact. It was to be expected then that, overhearing my conversation with Philip, they should continue it. I felt very much an outsider. Surprisingly Mary was the first to notice my silence. “Leslie,” she said hesitantly, “I don’t think Heather is enjoying the topic.”

I would have denied it had Leslie not turned to regard me so intently. Philip spoke before Leslie could. “I’d forgotten you were a London girl. How green of us. But after seeing you ride this morning, it’s difficult to remember you are a novice. Ain’t it, Uncle?”

Leslie seemed engrossed by his wine as he replied offhandedly, “I was in no danger of forgetting. But yes, she does rather well for a
beginner
.”

“Nipcheese with your compliments, are you?” Philip asked frankly. “If you were like this when you were dangling after Heather, I’m surprised she married you.”