Destitute On His Doorstep (14 page)

On reaching the horse and cart, still shocked and affected by what had just happened, Jane stood for a moment before going in search of Isaac. She was outside one of Avery's ale houses, which was always well patronised on market days. The noise from within was loud and raucous. The slight breeze flirted with the cluster of soft curls escaping from her bonnet and played with the hem of her skirts while it brought a fresh flush to her cheeks. She was a fetching sight for any man, many of whom who were new to Avery and, unaware of who she was, paused after passing and openly glanced back for a second look. One such was a man she was already acquainted with.

Francis halted a moment before crossing the green to the blacksmiths where he had left his horse. Jane stood stiff and rigid beside the coach, her finely boned profile tilted obstinately to betray her mutinous thoughts. He could not help but wonder at the grit of Jane Lucas. He had known no other quite like her, and the disturbing fact was that she seemed capable of disrupting his whole life.

The fact that she continued to be cool towards him only spurred his interest. He also had an overwhelming
desire to protect her, to befriend her and gain her trust. He felt most deeply the burden of her present distress and accepted that it was in the greater part his fault. He was concerned by what had just happened to her and he realised her vulnerability. He would have to keep a closer watch over those he perceived to be a threat.

Moving forwards to stand close behind her, he smiled his appreciation at her trim back. Jane sensed his presence but, thinking it was Isaac, was slow to respond. As she glanced around, her gaze caught sight of a pair of wide-topped brown boots, and her wonder became questioning surprise. Her head snapped up, and she found herself staring into the handsome and pleasantly smiling face of the man who disturbed and angered her all at once and more than any other.

‘Oh, it's you. I thought I'd sent you on your way.'

‘I'm not so easily got rid of.'

‘No, it would appear not,' she retorted, scanning the crowd, hoping to see Isaac.

Francis observed her closely, looking for any ill effects from her unpleasant encounter. ‘Are you sure you're all right after your ordeal at the hands of that ruffian back there? He was ready to drag you to the ground, and I assure you, Jane, he had nothing honourable in mind.'

Averting her gaze and staring bleakly at her hands, she finally managed to utter with grace, ‘I know. I am grateful to you for what you did.' Raising her head, she gazed listlessly at the many people milling about. A long sigh that was oddly broken in the middle lifted her narrow shoulders. Futilely she shook her head slowly, and her voice was barely heard over the noise of the
vendors. ‘I suppose I'll have to get used to that kind of behaviour from people who used to be our neighbours, although I'll never accept it.'

‘You shouldn't have to.' He studied her for a long moment before saying, ‘You're a rare one, Jane Lucas. Many young women could not have borne what you have, and not surely with such spirit. You may encounter trouble again in the future, so I feel I must caution you. After what has just occurred, without proper escort it would not be advisable for you to wander beyond the immediate area of Bilborough. For your own safety, I urge this. I advise you to stay at home and send Isaac into Avery when you have any purchases to make.'

‘I'll be careful,' she reassured him quietly.

He pondered her reply for a moment as his gaze lightly caressed her. ‘Of course I could always offer my services as your escort.'

A crisp, cool smile was briefly bestowed upon him. ‘You seem to have it well planned—except for one thing.'

‘Which is?'

‘I have no intention of going anywhere with you.'

‘You will not have a more capable chaperon,' he argued with a broad, rakish smile.

‘Thank you for your offer,' she replied primly while struggling to keep at bay the effect of that smile, trying to keep something of the old bite in her tone. ‘But I would rather take my chances alone. I believe I would be safer.'

He seemed undismayed. ‘Then please don't worry. I doubt anyone will trouble you out at Bilborough, and if they do you have Isaac and they'll soon find they have
me to reckon with. At least let me see you home before you find yourself in more trouble?'

The image of him prowling round the cottage to make sure she remained unmolested was definitely not to Jane's liking, although she was secretly touched by his concern for her safety, but she would not give him the satisfaction of letting him know it. Her mouth came open with her surprise, and she searched the handsome visage, taken aback by his nerve. ‘Who do you think you are, my guardian angel or something? Be assured that I can take care of myself. And I don't need your help getting home. I have Isaac.'

He grinned in the face of her rising ire. ‘As if I could forget.'

Jane almost expected his teeth to sparkle with the same devilish twinkle she now saw in those blue eyes. His garments were a sombre brown—the colour suited him well. A tremor of excitement tingled down her spine. ‘So you see there is no need for you to concern yourself, Francis.'

‘Presented with such a charming neighbour as you, my dear, I'm afraid I must,' he said, tipping his hat with a flamboyant flourish and grinning down at her. Even his blue eyes smiled at her, touching her everywhere.

The blush came quickly to her cheeks, mounting high as she recalled how it had felt to be in his arms and a shiver ran down her spine as she remembered their kiss—a simple contact, but the memory of it lingered far too long for her to be able to discount its effect on her. As a gentle breeze blew around them, short heavy wisps of his hair curled about his face, accentuating the lean, hard features. His grin widened, his teeth gleaming
with startling whiteness. Jane admitted that apart from his injured hand, he appeared in remarkable health. Indeed, there was a vitality about him that was almost mesmerising.

Clasping his hands behind his back, he gazed up at the flawless blue sky. ‘A pleasant day for an outing, don't you agree, Jane?' he commented.

Jane's eyes met his, and if any excitement remained, it was immediately dispelled as she looked beyond thick, black lashes into those deep blue eyes burning with silver lights. She glared at him, holding her temper on tight rein. ‘So it is. But there is a purpose to my outing and I have little time to indulge in idle banter—unlike you.'

‘Actually, I do have a purpose for coming into Avery today,' he answered smoothly, ‘although I do have the time to admire the sights.'

Jane did not miss the meaningful gleam in his eyes as they appeared to devour her face, and asked crisply, ‘And what is your purpose?'

‘I have escorted Elizabeth and Alice into Avery. They're off shopping somewhere. I've also brought my horse to be shoed by the local blacksmith. I had been visiting the shops myself and was on my way to get him when I saw you.'

‘Really! Then don't let me keep you.'

‘You won't. I enjoy your company.'

‘That's a shame. I don't enjoy yours. And I'm surprised. With so many horses at the Hall, I would have thought you'd have your own blacksmith by now.'

‘I intend to, in time,' he replied, ignoring her in tended
sarcasm. His expression became serious. ‘Have you settled into the cottage?'

‘Perfectly. I've always held myself adaptable to the circumstances. Scrubbing floors and scouring pans hold no horrors for me,' she uttered drily.

‘And it is adequately equipped?'

‘Yes—thank you,' she said, tempering her tone and remembering her manners. ‘I am relieved that the cottage is well supplied with everything I need.' She glanced at him from beneath her lashes. ‘I know it is down to you, Francis, and I am grateful.'

‘It was the least I could do. Despite your avowed dislike of me, Jane, you did not have to leave Bilborough so hastily, and I offered you the steward's house with the kindest intent.' He was wearing a contrite expression, completely at odds with his square shoulders and confident, upright bearing. ‘Would you not find my company more enjoyable to that of Isaac—a man past his prime and poor company for a young woman? The hall is certainly more comfortable than a draughty old cottage.'

‘Draughty?' Her eyebrows rose sharply. ‘If it is draughty, Colonel, then it is the landlord's responsibility to put it right—at least that was how it was in my father's time. Isaac is a good person and I am well content with his company. And what, pray, would you require of me to stay at Bilborough Hall?' she queried with cold sarcasm.

He disregarded the sardonic edge to her voice. Indeed, his smile would have been one of compassion were it not for the leer in his eyes. ‘Why, if it is rent you speak of I would charge no rent at all.'

‘I would not be able to give you any. I've precious little coin to squander. I am not wealthy, that you already know, but I shall pay what debts I knowingly incur. I shall decide what I am to do in the future as soon as I can—a few weeks, no more. ‘ She sighed deeply. ‘You must know that I am sorely put to task with having to beg your indulgence until then. If I were to accept your offer and move into the Hall, it would only extend an obligation which I am already at heavy odds to pay. I am quite capable, otherwise, of taking care of myself.'

Francis leaned forwards so that his face was close to hers, his eyes all knowing and mocking. ‘Were you wise enough to do that, Jane, you would not find yourself in the situation you are now in.'

Her face burned with the truth of his statement. She had little left to be proud of. Her independence had been stripped from her, and it goaded her that she must rely on Francis Russell, of all men, for her support.

‘The offer for you to take up residence at the Hall still stands, Jane. I would require nothing more than to talk with you now and then.'

Jane gave him a glare that would have melted rock. Her voice was thick with disgust. ‘Talk! Ha! To keep me as your doxy, more like. What do you take me for—an imbecile? Talk indeed. Why, I had been at Bilborough no time at all and only recently left my sick bed, when you accosted me and forced yourself on me like—like that oaf back there—' Cut short by his laughter, she glared at him. ‘Why are you laughing?'

‘Because, my dear Jane,' he said, regarding her from beneath hooded lids, humour dancing in their depths, ‘I could not resist the encouragement I got from you.
Do you not recall how you invited me to kiss you? Or perhaps it's slipped your mind.'

‘No, it has not, and if you were a gentleman you would not mention it. You amaze me. You really do. How do you imagine the people of Bilborough would judge our relationship—me in particular, if I were to live with you openly at the Hall? I would be arrested and in no time at all,' she said heatedly, pointing to the contraption of torture close by, ‘I would be pilloried and pelted with everyone's unwanted garbage.'

‘Come now, you are upset. You exaggerate. That would never happen.' He sighed, shaking his head. ‘Are you always like this, Jane, or is it me that brings out the worst in you?'

‘I don't know what you mean.'

‘You mean you're always like this?'

‘No, I am not—and, yes, you do bring out the worst in me.'

‘Then perhaps a little libation here in the White Hart will settle your nerves.'

‘My nerves?' The words were lashed out. ‘It is your nerve that must be reckoned with—and your lusts.'

He grinned, completely unperturbed by her anger. ‘Come, Jane, I insist. Let us at least be civil to each other.'

‘Insist! You would force a lady?'

He cocked a dark brow, a crooked smile curving his firm lips. ‘You rate yourself highly.'

‘My father did his best,' she replied primly, tossing her head, ‘but I have a mind of my own.'

‘You mean he indulged you so much that you are
wilful, stubborn and proud,' he said with firm conviction, an amused chuckle accompanying his reply.

‘I care not for your opinion of me—not one jot, as it happens.' She was about to move on, but casting a brief glance over his shoulder, she espied Alice emerging from a dressmaker's shop. She forced a smile to her lips, even as she tried to subdue a feeling if irritation.

‘Why, see who we have here,' she remarked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. ‘I trust she has kept you well entertained at the Hall.'

O
n seeing them, Alice hurriedly joined them, not wishing to lose her tenuous grasp on Francis. Reaching them, she clung to Francis's side, wrinkling her nose as the stench from the animal pens assailed her nostrils. Her fair hair was dressed in ringlets that fell to her shoulders beneath a high-crowned hat. Half-turning her back to Jane, she tossed her head coyly, and her wide eyes touched him everywhere. Boldly she placed a hand lightly on his arm.

‘I'm so delighted to see you are still in Avery, Francis,' she warbled. ‘I was afraid we might have missed you and that you would have returned to the Hall.'

Smiling lamely, over Alice's head he caught Jane's brittle smile. Absently he brushed Alice's hand aside.

‘My business here is not yet finished, and the way it looks—for Jane has the looks and the temper to cause pandemonium in the streets,' he said, giving Jane a meaningful look with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, ‘I might be here long enough to escort you back
to Bilborough.' He drew a quick, challenging glare from Jane and grinned lazily in the face of it.

Jane held her silence. She would not chide him openly, but she was firm in the belief that if he had not come to her rescue, things would be very different now.

Turning to face Jane, Alice studied her, smiling as though she had a lemon in her mouth. ‘So, Jane, I hope you are settled in your little cottage and that it is not too—uncomfortable.'

‘It is perfectly comfortable—for the present,' Jane replied, knowing her words must seem as stiff as her smile. ‘It is, after all, only a temporary residence,' she remarked, casting Francis a meaningful look. ‘I trust you are enjoying your visit to the Hall?'

‘Very much, but then,' Alice purred, bestowing on Francis a winsome smile, the temptation to slip her hand through the bend of his arm nearly beyond her ability to resist, ‘how could I not when blessed with such a charming host.'

Francis was immensely amused as he eyed the two women. Jane stood majestically proud and haughty. Sparks flashed in the dark eyes as she glared at Alice. He glanced askance at Alice, unable to ignore the fact that she was encroaching unusually close. ‘You appear to have lost your sister, Alice.'

‘I left Elizabeth inside the dressmakers,' she said, pressing a nosegay to her face and inhaling its perfume. ‘She is unable to make up her mind about some ribbon she wishes to purchase.'

‘Then might she not value your opinion? Perhaps you should go back to her,' Jane suggested.

‘It is rare that Elizabeth and I share the same opinion,
so I think she will do better without me breathing down her neck. We are dissimilar in so many ways that it's often difficult to believe we are sisters. The simple fact is that she resembles our mother and I, our father. Is that not so, Francis?'

Francis, who had initially welcomed Alice at Bilborough, now found the woman's clinging nearness burdensome. She had been outrageous in her pursuit of him and he had found himself in some tight corners where it had taken all his tact and diplomacy to extricate himself. However, he had trouble curtailing a grin as he witnessed this innocuous confrontation between the two women.

‘It certainly is, Alice.'

‘And you, Jane,' Alice went on. ‘Are you here to shop?'

Jane felt a tightening she couldn't explain, but quickly asked herself why on earth she should feel slighted that the handsome Francis Russell would welcome Alice's presence. Later she would sort out her feelings, but for now she fashioned a bright smile.

‘Why else would I be in Avery?' she answered. ‘I have to eat. I have to buy provisions like everyone else.'

‘I'm sure Mary can fit you up with what you need, Jane,' Francis offered, genuinely concerned about how she and Isaac were managing at the cottage.

‘I wouldn't dream of asking her. Why on earth should you provide our food? We buy our milk and eggs and cheese from Farmer Burns at Hall Farm, and whatever else we need we shall get from the market today—which
is what Isaac is doing this very minute. I shall have to go and find him and give him a hand.'

Alice sidled nearer to Francis, hoping to remind him of her presence. Even then, her attempt to claim his attention from the other came to naught, for he gave every indication that he had dismissed everyone else from mind when he told Jane he would ride over to inspect the cottage himself, just to make sure everything was in order.

Elizabeth emerged from the dress shop, and after greeting Jane warmly, much to Alice's chagrin, who was looking forwards to Francis escorting them back to the Hall, she whisked her away to visit their parents.

The heat of Alice's angry glare was felt by Jane as she took Elizabeth's arm. She smiled pleasantly. ‘Goodbye, Alice.'

Alice clamped her mouth tightly shut; in a huff, she allowed Elizabeth to lead her away.

‘Richard and Elizabeth will be returning to their home tomorrow—Alice to her parents,' Francis informed Jane. Looking down at her, he looked mockingly woeful. ‘I shall feel quite bereft when they have gone—all alone in that great house.'

Jane laughed, a touch of irony in her remark when she said, ‘To think that a house the size of Bilborough and its immense staff caters to the whims of one man seems most extravagant, and I can only wonder at the wealth that can afford such luxury. But, really! You are a grown man. Are you not hoping to mirror your brother's good fortune in finding a wife whom you can love and cherish—a woman who will love you in return? Unless, of course, your tardiness in marrying is because
you have so many smitten ladies at your heels you are finding it difficult to choose.'

He managed a laconic smile. ‘I want a wife—and children. Given time I will marry.'

‘Given time? How much time do you need? Of course there is always Alice,' Jane suggested, a mischievous gleam lighting her eyes. ‘Should you not wish to go to the trouble of a long courtship, I am quite certain she would be amenable to a perfectly proper offer of marriage.'

The blue eyes flared. ‘Alice is merely an acquaintance—my brother's sister-in-law. Nothing more—and she never will be.'

‘I don't think Alice would like to hear you say that,' Jane joked provocatively. ‘I'm sure she would like to be more than a mere
acquaintance
—much more.'

‘Then she is going to be disappointed. And you should have a care.'

‘I should?'

‘Alice has a sharp tongue—when she has a mind to use it.'

‘Which is often—given the fact that I have only been in her company twice, and on both occasions she has tried to put me down.'

A low chuckle preceded Francis's reply. ‘I didn't think she was putting on a show of affection. I also noticed you couldn't resist deflating her a bit.'

‘She deserved it.' Tilting her head to one side, she looked at him gravely. ‘Going back to what we were talking about, perhaps you should marry. Men of your age have usually a wife and children. Someone needs to take you in hand.'

Francis looked down at her and his eyes danced merrily as he searched her face. ‘Are you offering, Jane?'

She stiffened. ‘Heaven forbid! I was merely offering you some advice.'

‘Do I actually detect some concern for me in your advice?'

‘When you're so cavalier about taking a wife, someone needs to try to get you to listen to reason,' she retorted impatiently.

‘I take heart that you care.'

‘I don't—and don't be conceited,' she responded drily.

‘Conceited? Nay, Jane. Like your barbs, your reproach wounds me to the quick.'

‘I doubt it,' she scoffed. ‘You have a hide thicker than an ox.'

‘Come now. Don't be mean,' he coaxed, his voice as soft and smooth as silk. ‘An occasional smile from you would not go amiss.'

Tossing her head haughtily, she glowered at him. ‘You have done nothing to earn my smiles. And as for yours—save them for Alice.'

His amused laughter took the sting from her words. ‘When I have expended so much energy on you, my dear Jane, how can you possibly imagine I have any interest in another woman? And why should you care, anyway, when you're not interested?'

‘You're right, I'm not,' she snapped.

His lips twitched with ill-suppressed amusement. ‘I just thought you needed reminding.'

‘And I am not your
dear Jane
,' she protested with the
sudden sweet pang of pleasure his endearment caused as to discourage him.

‘But you are, Jane—to me,' he murmured warmly. ‘Your antagonism always cuts me to the quick. At least can we not be friends?'

Her expression softened and, as had happened before, her attitude began to melt towards him. He was so attractive, so compelling, it was impossible to stay angry with him for long. ‘Friends? Friendship is too strong a word. People situated as you and I cannot be friends,' she informed him sadly. ‘Friends have to like each other, and any liking between us is constrained by the vast chasm of difference my changed situation imposes.'

‘It needn't be like that between us—not if you don't let it.'

‘And I was under the impression that I was a problem.'

Francis's gaze was direct, challenging, almost insulting, raking her from the hem of her skirts, and passing over the narrow waist, and then more leisurely over her round bosom. The neckline of the bodice was demure with a white fichu at her throat. Still, Jane felt undressed beneath his stare. Feeling her cheeks flush scarlet, self-consciously she averted her eyes, focusing them on a rather noisy vendor selling chickens, but without really seeing him.

‘I don't regard you as a problem. Quite the opposite, in fact.' His countenance grew more serious as he met her gaze. ‘For the greater part, I regard you as a lovely young woman. You are very beautiful.'

‘And you have a silken tongue,' Jane chided him in verbal defence, for he was pushing the boundaries of
their relationship and she would be as susceptible as she had been when she had arrived at Bilborough.

His lips spoke no word, but his eyes clearly expressed the truth of them. The bold stare touched a quickness in her that made her feel as if she were on fire. It burned in her cheeks and started a trembling in her stomach. He was bathed in a light cast by the sun behind him, and was aglow with deep golden colour that softened his hard, lean frame. Those glowing eyes burned into hers, suffusing her with a growing aura of warmth. How could she claim uninterest in this man when the very words he uttered, his mere presence, could so effectively stir her senses. Angered by her sudden weakness, she turned from him.

‘Go away. The mere sight of you is beginning to offend me.'

Francis grinned broadly and swept her a low bow. ‘As you wish, Jane. Since I perceive that Isaac is on his way back with his arms full of provisions, I shall leave you and be about my business.'

Jane caught a glimpse of Isaac across the market square just as he described. She was moving away when she heard his next comment.

‘If you should change your mind about an escort into Avery in the future, you know where to find me.'

Jane refused to gratify him with a retort, but it was a dire struggle she made for composure as she reached Isaac and took some of the provisions from him.

 

The mists hung stubbornly in the low spots as Jane walked down the lane towards the paddocks where Francis kept his horses. Hopefully everyone would still be
abed, which was why she had chosen to come at this early hour.

She was so overwhelmed to see Arthur again that tears filled her eyes. Nearly black, with his powerful chest and huge shoulders above lean, strong legs, he was in good condition and silky smooth. She was pleased to see he had been well looked after. Climbing over the fence and calling his name softly, she walked towards where he was grazing. Suddenly alert, Arthur raised his head and listened, his ears twitching and turning.

‘Hello, Arthur,' she said, smiling with pleasure as she advanced, holding out her hand. On seeing her, the horse snorted and whickered and tossed his head and came to meet her. ‘Hello, boy.' She laughed when he stretched out his neck and nibbled her sleeve—an old habit of his that told her he had not forgotten her.

While Jane was becoming reacquainted with Arthur, Francis was walking away from the adjoining paddock where he'd been checking on one of his mares. She was due to foal any day. He would instruct one of the stable hands to have her brought inside where they could keep an eye on her.

Pausing to glance across at Arthur, his eyes lit on a scene that brought him up sharp. He frowned on seeing him being ridden around the paddock by a young woman who straddled his bare back, a young woman he immediately recognised as Jane. As she urged the powerful mount on with a confidence that astounded him, the hem of her skirts blew back above her knees and, holding on to Arthur's mane, she bent low over his neck.

Completely bemused, Francis's frown deepened. She was the last person he would have expected to see
at this early hour, and what in God's name was she doing in the paddock riding such a powerful brute as Arthur—and without a saddle? The breeze snatched at her hair, the long curling shiny black tresses flying riotously behind her. Vivid beauty was moulded into every perfect sculpted feature of her face, but her allure went much deeper than that. There was something inside her that made her sparkle and glow like a flawless jewel.

Bringing the horse to a halt and throwing her arms around the stallion's neck, she laughed gaily, the sound drifting towards where Francis stood. It was the first time he'd heard her laugh and the sound was like the sweetest music to his ears. This girl was full of surprises, full of promise, he thought, watching her surreptitiously.

For some reason he remembered his long-held dream of having a woman to light up his life and his home, a woman to fill his arms, a woman who would love him and the children he gave her. Recollecting himself, he smiled at his naïve, youthful dreams and unfulfilled yearnings, which he had carried with him into adulthood and hoped would bear fruit. He thought it strange as he realised Jane Lucas had rekindled all those old yearnings.