An Unexpected Love (12 page)

“I am hoping that I will not be alone. There is a lady whom I would like to ask to be my wife and then – ”

“Ouch!” Ravina winced. She had clutched the iron bars at the window so hard that a little sliver of metal had sliced into her finger.

Sir Richard intended to marry! This house was being prepared for his wife.

She felt a surge of anger and despair. He had no right to bring her here, to ask her opinion of its suitability. That was the prerogative of the lady to whom he would be offering his hand and his heart.

She had no idea why she should feel so upset. After all, this man was a stranger, he meant nothing to her!

Nothing at all.

“
You are hurt, Lady Ravina?” Sir Richard enquired, moving to take her hand to inspect the blood that was swelling into a ruby drop on her pale flesh.

Ravina snatched her hand away.

“It is nothing, I assure you. Goodness, it is getting late. I must go home at once. Dulcie will be wondering where I am. And I have to make plans to visit the Priory tomorrow.”

Sir Richard's face darkened.

“The Priory?”

“Indeed,” Ravina replied brightly, clutching her handkerchief against the cut and trying to control the quaver in her voice.

“And if you live here in the Manor, Sir Richard, we may well be neighbours because I have every reason to believe that Sir Michael will shortly ask me to be his wife and I intend to say
yes
!”

When she looked back in the days that followed, Ravina could remember very little about her dreadful journey home from Mitcham Manor.

She had left the nursery, rushed downstairs, mounted her horse and with a silent and grim-faced Sir Richard trotting behind her, had ridden quickly back to Curbishley Hall along the roads, forgoing the hillside tracks.

So he was to marry – and soon. Mitcham Manor was to be this unknown woman's home.

Well, she wished the lady joy. To live with a man with so little sensitivity would be a great hardship.

Sweetie skittered as Ravina's fingers tugged on her reins as she forced her anguish to the back of her mind.

She was determined not to give Sir Richard the opportunity of thinking that his actions were of any concern to her.

“Are your plans now determined, sir?” she asked as they reached Rosbourne and trotted through the village.

“Yes. I fear I must impose on your hospitality for just one more night before I head for Dorchester. I have business there that will no longer wait.”

Ravina paid lip service to the formalities, wondering bitterly if that was where the lady lived who one day would be his wife.

The woman who would be Mistress of Mitcham Manor, watch her children grow up in the nursery, run through the orchards and paddocks, gallop their ponies on the beach and –

With a great effort of will, she stopped the painful progression of her thoughts and thankfully saw the gates of Curbishley Hall appear.

Then, at last, they were safely inside the stable yard and she was kicking her feet free of the stirrups. But before one of the grooms could help her, Sir Richard was at her side.

Ravina slid from the saddle and for a brief moment felt the strength of the arms holding her. But even as she murmured her thanks, she refused to glance up into those dark penetrating eyes.

“Lady Ravina – ” his voice sounded strangely unsure. She could have even imagined that there was a touch of bewilderment in his tone.

But no matter. The last thing she wanted was for Sir Richard to guess her attachment towards him.

How embarrassing that would be.

She had no wish to see a sudden gleam of understanding in his eyes, no wish to see any sign of pity cross his face.

That would be unbearable!

Ravina hugged her anger and despair to herself, as she bade him a curt farewell and fled upstairs to the sanctuary of her room.

Here she threw herself full-length on her bed and beat at the pillows with clenched fists.

“How dare he take me to look at that beautiful house when all along he has been planning on bringing his bride.

Tears trickled down her face as her anger gave way to grief.

But why was she so upset?

Sir Richard had never given her any inclination that his feelings towards her were anything but those of a censorious stranger.

Had she fallen in love without even realising it was happening?

Was it possible?

This turmoil, this upheaval.

Was this love?

“And I am so pleased I told him I am to marry Sir Michael!” she thought. “He will never know that my affections had turned in his direction.”

But she knew in her heart of hearts that she was not pleased at all.

Ravina stayed in her room until dinnertime that evening. She told a concerned Dulcie that she had caught a little too much sun and had a slight headache but that it would soon pass.

Her cousin pulled the curtains across the window and produced a little pillow stuffed with camomile.

“Rest on this for a while,” she fussed. “Really, Ravina, what would your dear Mama say? Riding without a hat in this weather! She would not be happy that I let you leave the house like that.”

Ravina turned her head to one side, glad that the gloom in the room hid her tear–streaked face from view.

“Yes, I am sorry, I have been very stupid,” she said softly. “But I will learn my lesson well, Dulcie dear.”

Dulcie sat on the edge of the bed and stroked the wild gold curls back from Ravina's temple.

“Will you dine downstairs or shall I arrange for a tray to be served here in your room?”

Ravina hesitated.

She had no wish to face Sir Richard, but she was no coward. She refused to run away from him. This was her home and she would not skulk in her room like some naughty schoolgirl.

“Yes, indeed, I will be at dinner as usual, Dulcie. I am feeling better already. Perhaps you can ask cook for some asparagus soup, fish and a plain soufflé”. I do not feel I can face a heavy meal.”

“Certainly. By the way, we will be dining alone tonight. Sir Richard has told me that he will not be with us as he has to meet a friend in Lyme and will be dining out.”

“I see.”

Ravina slid off the bed as Charity came into the room.

The lady's maid helped her out of her riding clothes and boots and as Ravina sat at her dressing table, she found the tension in her shoulders easing as Charity began to brush her long blonde hair into a silky gleaming swathe.

So, that was that.

This unhappy episode in her life was now over.

Ravina would not see Sir Richard Crawford again, unless she was unlucky and happened to be present when he came to call on her parents to introduce his new wife.

“I thought Sir Richard was leaving us today. I fear we are in danger of becoming a hotel, Dulcie dear. Surely he must have other friends who would happily give him shelter while he looks for his new home.”

Dulcie gave her cousin a concerned look. In all the time she had known Ravina, she had never heard her sound like this before. Perhaps the sun had really made her ill.

“Tomorrow I must ride out and visit the tenants,” Ravina said brightly, leaning forward away from Charity's ministrations to pinch her cheeks until they glowed pink against her pale face.

“Papa will be annoyed if I do not show a regular interest. He always checks most punctiliously to take note of any problems they may be having.”

She could see Dulcie standing behind her, reflected in the mirror. Her cousin was frowning.

“But Ravina, do you not already have a prior luncheon appointment with Sir Michael at the Priory?”

Ravina looked blankly back at her for a few moments and then recalled that she had, indeed, promised to return to the Priory to talk about Sir Michael's house-warming plans.

“Oh, yes, I had quite forgotten,” she admitted drearily.

Dulcie turned away to pick up and fold a few garments that Ravina had left scattered across her bed.

How could Ravina forget Sir Michael? She was ashamed of her cousin. Sir Michael was such a kind and understanding man.

Her heart gave a little flip as she recalled the day she had spent with him discussing curtains. They had walked in the grounds of the Priory and she had admired the tidy layout of his gardens.

They had sat in a little gazebo away from the house and a footman had brought chilled lemonade and little macaroons.

For an hour they had talked and laughed and discussed the renovations. She had forgotten her lowly position in life, forgotten that she had no right to this man's attentions.

But only too soon it had been time to return to her duties.

Dulcie's hand went once more to the pocket of her apron and tightened round the crisp linen square that had belonged to Sir Michael.

It was all she had to remind herself of that day. All she would ever have.

And as she left Ravina's room and walked downstairs to oversee the dinner arrangements, she wondered unhappily how she would cope if Ravina married Sir Michael and became Mistress of the Priory.

*

Upstairs, Ravina finally dismissed Charity and walked to the window, gazing out at the familiar woods and fields, the hills that led towards the sea and Charlford –

Dinner passed quietly.

Ravina had no appetite but made an effort to eat her meal. She did not want Dulcie to start asking more detailed questions about her well–being.

But for some reason, Dulcie seemed distracted as well this evening. Neither had much to say and the conversation limped along.

“How did you know I was to visit the Priory again?” Ravina finally asked her cousin, trying to bring her mind back to everyday life, away from the dreams she was exploring so helplessly.

Dulcie's face went a bright shade of pink and she dropped her fork.

“Oh, Sir Michael called in for a moment this afternoon when he was passing. He mentioned your appointment and indeed, I agreed to go over to the Priory myself in the afternoon to help his housekeeper with a minor problem that has developed in the new servants' quarters.”

“I am sure you will be extremely useful,” Ravina said in a distracted fashion.

How could she possibly talk about furnishings and servants' quarters when her heart was breaking?

Because that was how she felt and she was both anguished and angry with herself.

She had to admit that Sir Richard had never given her any sort of encouragement.

So why did she feel so bereft when she had never gained his affections in the first place?

No, she lifted her chin and blinked back the tears that were threatening to fall.

She was Lady Ravina Ashley and she would be as brave as all the other Ashley women had been in the past.

She would indeed visit the Priory tomorrow for luncheon and, whatever she had said earlier to Sir Richard, she would make it clear to Sir Michael that she was not interested in furthering their relationship.

Then the day after, she would set about returning her life to some semblance of normality.

Ravina vowed that once he had left Curbishley Hall for good, she would never think of Sir Richard Crawford and his deep brown eyes again!

She retired to her room as soon as it was polite to do so.

She was determined not to be up and around when Sir Richard arrived.

She lay in bed, unable to sleep at first, listening to the faint sounds of the clocks in the house striking the hours, wondering about the past few days and wishing her parents were home.

She desperately wanted to hear what her father had to say about Sir Richard, to discover if there was some secret he was keeping from her.

If she could hear something to his disadvantage, perhaps her liking of him would fade a little.

“Oh, I do wish Mama were here. I need to talk to her so badly. She is so wise. She would know how to make me feel better.”

Downstairs in the great hall, lamps had been left lit for Sir Richard's arrival. A sleepy footman sat in the hall, trying to stay awake, waiting to see if he could be of any assistance.

Dulcie was making her final rounds, checking that the lower windows had been latched tightly and that guards had been placed in front of the fires.

She was about to retire to her room when the door bell rang and Stephen, the young footman, hurried to open the door for Sir Richard.

Dulcie turned and walked back down the stairs.

“Good evening, Sir Richard. Goodness, you look tired. Can I arrange for some food and drink for you?”

Sir Richard slapped his riding gloves across his legs to remove the dust.

“No, thank you, Miss Allen. I have dined already. A glass of brandy would be most welcome, however.”

“Stephen will be pleased to attend you. I am about to retire but hope to see you in the morning before you leave.”

Sir Richard bowed.

“Indeed. And has Lady Ravina already retired?”

“Yes, Sir Richard.”

He turned as he was about to enter the drawing room.

“Dreaming about her forthcoming marriage, no doubt.”

Dulcie stared at him, bewildered.

“Marriage?”

“Lady Ravina told me today that she would be accepting the advances of Sir Michael Moore.”

Dulcie felt the world spin round and round and was grateful that she was holding onto the banister otherwise she knew she would fall into a faint.

“They are to marry? I-I – had no idea. Ravina has said nothing.
Married
? Well, you must excuse me, Sir Richard.I am feeling a little tired and will leave you to your brandy.”

Aware of his penetrating glance that seemed to see so much, Dulcie stumbled her way upstairs to her room, thankful to be able to shut the door so that no one could see the tears that were now trickling down her face, washing away all the silly lingering dreams about Sir Michael that she had clung to for the past weeks.

*

Even though she was sure she would not, Ravina must have slept before dawn, because the sky was quite bright when she opened her eyes.