Forbidden (53 page)

"Well, Tom," he questioned, "are you going to
tell me what's going on?"

"Your grace?" asked Tom, politely.

"Come now Tom, do not play the innocent with
me. I've known you far too long for that to wash. What am I doing
in an Irish backwater?"

"I am sure I do not know what you mean,
Edward. Your mother wanted to visit with her very dear friends. It
is only fitting that her son should come too." He blinked a few
times, which was always a sure sign that he was nervous, but his
face remained a cool mask of innocence.

Biting back a growl of frustration, Edward
changed tact.

"You know, it is terribly irresponsible of me
to take myself out of the country when there is work to be done.
Our investments and properties will not take care of
themselves."

"No, they will not," his mother agreed,
"which is why you employ the most efficient and capable stewards
for when you cannot be there. You are one man, my dear. It would be
quite impossible for you to shoulder all of that responsibility
yourself."

Too late, Edward realised his mistake.
There'd be no stopping Mother now.

"If only you had a wife to unburden yourself
with," she began. Predictably. "Someone who could help ease your
worries, talk through your problems and–"

"And what Mother?" he interrupted, sounding
sharper than he intended but annoyed by the same lecture yet again.
"And spend all of my money, gossip with her dim-witted friends, and
parade me around Town like a circus act?" he asked, unable to hide
the distaste in his voice.

"Edward," his mother admonished, a little
shocked at the bitterness in her son's tone, "you cannot believe
that I would want anything less than a suitable wife for you."

"Our ideas of suitable are vastly different,
Mother," he commented dryly, "you would have me marry a cow if it
was from good stock."

The bark of laughter from the other side of
the carriage brought Edward's attention to Tom.

"You," he snapped, his tone accusing, "should
know better than to go along with Mother's schemes, Tom."

"It is no scheme, Edward. It is just a
visit."

Edward turned away from them both to stare
moodily out the window once more. They'd closed ranks and neither
would tell him anything.

Well, maybe it was genuinely just a visit. It
would be terribly awkward, and unorthodox to say the least. But if
he hadn't agreed, his Mother would have gone on about it until the
Season, with all its distractions, started and he really did not
want to have to deal with that.

The carriage started to turn and Edward
noticed they were approaching a pair of heavy wrought iron gates.
The entrance, presumably, to the Earl of Ranford's estate. His
steel grey eyes took in his surroundings as the carriage began its
slow progress up a meandering gravel path set in sweeping verdant
grounds.

Ireland was really breathtakingly beautiful,
he had to admit. Though there were similarities to his own country
estates in Surrey, Lancashire, and Wales, there really was an air
of mystery and magic amongst these hills and dales.

Edward was never one for fanciful thoughts.
He had great responsibility, which he took seriously. Though his
friends and family knew him to have a kind heart and wicked sense
of humour, he rarely gave way to thoughts which were illogical or
insensible. He shook his head slightly, laughing at himself.

The carriage rounded a central water fountain
and stopped before a rambling red brick house that was the formal
seat of the Earl of Ranford.

The house itself was built on land which had
been occupied by an old and important Clan in Irish history and
there were traces still of that ancient civilisation dotted around
the grounds. There were ruins that could be explored, and his
mother took great delight in telling him about the hills of the
faery folk and 'little people' of Ireland.

He should really have her looked at.

Aside from the supernatural nonsense it was a
beautiful old house, very well situated with a central rectangle
design flanked by extended wings on either side.

The afternoon sun bounced off the windows
giving the place an altogether welcoming feel.

No sooner had their carriage stopped than the
front door opened and a flurry of activity ensued.

Footmen were brought immediately to their
assistance by the butler, who introduced himself as Murphy — a very
well turned out man, appearing to be in his sixties and with a
pleasant Irish brogue.

"Good day to ye, your grace, your grace,
sir," he said deferentially, bowing to each of them in turn. "If
you will follow me please, his lordship is waiting to receive
ye."

Edward offered his arm to the dowager and
together they walked up the steps and into the hallway of the great
house. His mother gasped in approval and Edward could tell she was
noticing striking similarities between here and his estate,
Banfield, in Surrey.

The floor was covered in a similar light
coloured marble, a central staircase veered out to a surrounding
balcony on the first floor and a truly magnificent chandelier took
pride of place in the centre of the ceiling, drawing the guest's
eye up.

Murphy coughed discreetly and indicated that
they follow him to a room on the left.

He heard Murphy announce them and a booming
voice telling him to show them in at once. He shared a look with
his mother— hers, one of pleasure, his, ever suspicious.

Tom hung back and appeared disinterested in
the proceedings. Edward knew he would already be wishing to
acquaint himself with the staff and kitchen. Mostly concentrating
on the kitchen.

They were shown into a beautifully situated
receiving room. Decorated in tones of palest yellows and whites it
was bright and airy and perfect for a hot summer afternoon. The
windows looked out onto a beautiful vista of green leading down
towards what looked like a sizeable pond centred by yet another
fountain.

"My dear Kate, how wonderful it is to see you
again." This rather informal – greeting was conducted by a
statuesque woman who had risen to greet them. She stood a good head
taller than his mother, was slim and willowy and carried herself
like a true lady, her blonde hair, showing shades of grey, pulled
into quite a severe knot at the back of her head. Her dress, though
simple in deference to her age, was excellently made. In short,
here stood the very epitome of a lady.

"Mary, it has been far too long," the dowager
responded equally as warm, which was unusual for his usually
reserved mother, and the two women embraced.

His mother turned to him to draw him
forward.

"You must remember my son, Edward, the Duke
of Hartridge."

"I do of course, though it has been many,
many years. How good to see you again, your grace."

Edward bowed politely then turned toward the
man who was awaiting his turn for introductions.

This man had been his father's oldest friend
and, by all accounts, the pair of them could have given the duke
and his set a run for their money, in their hay day.

The earl was a tall and broad shouldered man
whose face was remarkably unlined, though his hair was a pure
white.

It was quite a bittersweet moment for Edward,
to see his father's best friend stand healthy and happy before him,
when his own poor father should have been here too.

The earl stepped forward to kiss the dowager
on the cheek, and then turn to clasp Edward's shoulder.

"My dear boy" —obviously the Earl wasn't one
for formality— "how good to see you now after all these years. And
what a fine gentleman you've turned out to be. Why you are the very
image of your father at this age. A finer man I never knew, and I
miss him still."

"Thank you, my lord. I miss him too, every
day," Edward responded.

"La, let's have none of that 'my lord'
business. Why, I held you as a babe in arms." The earl smiled
warmly, his brown eyes twinkling.

Edward could not help but respond to this
friendly old man with a smile of his own. He immediately liked the
earl and countess very much and was beginning to think that maybe
this visit would not be such a bad thing.

"You must call me Henry," the earl continued
jovially.

"And I am Edward, of course," responded
Edward. He really had no choice. Propriety did not seem to be high
up on the earl's list of priorities.

"Your grace."

Turning he found Lady Ranford bringing a
pretty young woman forward for introduction. Edward did not know
how he had missed her before, she was extremely like her mother,
though in the first blush of youth.

She was as tall and willowy as her mother,
and where Lady Ranford's hair was greying and her skin gently
lined, this lady's hair was as bright as the sun, her face unlined
and blushing prettily.

She was dressed in a pale lemon summer dress,
which highlighted her slim figure. Edward cut a quick glance to his
mother. Standing before him was the very picture of what the
dowager would want for a daughter-in-law, he was sure. His thoughts
were confirmed by the sheer joy on his mother's face.

Biting back a sigh of frustration, he smiled
politely and bowed over the lady's hand. Yes, she was pretty,
carried herself well and was no doubt a lady.

And was just like every other debutante that
had been flung his way since he reached the grand old age of
eighteen. His father had warned him about the debs and their mamas,
but to see them in action was quite an experience. And, as he got
older, they got more intense and, well frankly, frightening.

"May I present my daughter, Lady Caroline,"
Lady Ranford continued.

"Your grace," Lady Caroline demurred,
curtseying very formally, and very properly, to the duke.

"How do you do, Lady Caroline?"

"Very well, I thank you. And you? I hope your
journey was not too tiresome."

Did she think he was ancient, for goodness
sake? Incapable of travel in a plush and luxurious coach?

"No, not at all Lady Caroline, I only wish I
could have ridden part of the way. I found myself in need of fresh
air."

"Why Edward," his mother pounced like a cat
on a mouse, "what a wonderful idea. Why don't you let Lady Caroline
show you around some of these beautiful gardens?'

As subtle as a blacksmith's hammer, his
mother.

"I'd be delighted to, your grace."

Well, he could not bloody well say 'no' now,
could he?

He looked around at the faces of the
occupants in the room. Every one of them wore matching expressions
of calculated delight and it suddenly dawned on Edward, sending an
icy chill down his spine, why it was he was here.

So they'd decided he and Caroline should
marry, had they?

Damnation. He would be having serious words
with Mother as soon as he had the chance.

Now, however, was not the time.

"Care to join us, Mother?" Edward asked
through gritted teeth.

His mother blinked innocently at him. Too
innocently.

"Oh no thank you, dear. I am quite tired out
by the journey. I should much rather take tea and catch up with my
very– "

"Dear friends," finished Edward bitingly.

He wanted to say to hell with the lot of them
and storm out to the nearest inn.

But he was raised impeccably and good manners
won out.

"Lady Caroline, it looks like it is just us,"
he said smoothly. Though she blushed rather fetchingly at his
words, her eyes remained ever so slightly calculating and Edward
could not help but feel that everything she was saying and doing
was nothing other than a performance. Bearing that in mind, Edward
turned to Tom who was studiously ignoring him and instead looking
at his hands rather intently. "Tom, I do apologise. Did you not say
you felt the need to stretch your legs too?" Edward's tone and
expression remained unfailingly polite but Tom knew him well enough
to know that this was nothing other than a command. Albeit sugar
coated.

He coughed a couple of times before smiling.
"Yes, yes I did. I should be glad of a walk." Edward nodded ever so
slightly in approval and pointedly ignored his mother's audible
sigh from his left.

He waited in the parlour, listening to the
chatter of old friends while Caroline fetched her bonnet. Within a
couple of moments they were ready to go.

As soon as they left, the earl puffed out a
relieved breath.

"Well, that went very well," he commented
happily.

"Yes," agreed Lady Ranford, "and how
beautiful they look together."

The dowager smiled her agreement, but she
knew that her ear was in for a bashing when her fiercely
independent son returned.

Outside, the sun beat
pleasantly down on the trio as they made their way down the
sweeping lawn toward the pond.