The Folly at Falconbridge Hall (8 page)

His passion and his knowledge impressed her. He had written several books on the subject of moths and butterflies, which she intended to study after he left. “I feel certain that history will prove you right, and your name will be linked with Darwin’s and other intrepid scientists.”

“I must say I’m delighted to be mentioned in the same breath as Darwin,” he said dryly.

Vanessa hurried on, explaining how she had seen Lovel at the fair.

“It’s not as though he was doing anything wrong.” Knowing she was guided by intuition, she doubted her fears would be feasible to his logical mind.

He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. “I gave Lovel permission to work at the fair running the pony rides.”

“When I saw him, he wasn’t with the ponies but a group of men.”

“I believe he claims kinship with some of the gypsies who run it.”

“He was examining the contents of a large box.” Vanessa began to feel foolish and wished she had something more substantial than that to offer. What was it about that man that disturbed her?

“It wouldn’t surprise me if he’s discovered a way to make money from the enterprise. He’s a crafty fellow. Maybe I don’t have a problem with it as long as it’s legal and it doesn’t interfere with his work at Falconbridge Hall.” He glanced at her and frowned. “You dislike Lovel? Has he ever done anything to upset you?”

She shook her head, wishing she hadn’t mentioned it. “It’s just intuition.”

He raised his brows. “I give little credence to intuition. It lacks empirical evidence and is an unreliable emotional response.”

“I’ve found it useful during my lifetime, my lord.”

“If we debate the merits of women’s intuition, Miss Ashley, I suspect I’ll lose,” he said with a smile. “Don’t worry about Lovel. I’ll have Johnson keep an eye on him while I’m away.”

Vanessa hurried out, not entirely satisfied, but at least she’d expressed her concern.

*****

In the schoolroom, Vanessa tidied away books while Blythe sat at her desk drawing with her colored pencils. She came to look over the child’s shoulder. The picture of a cozy house amid a pretty garden showed some early talent. “That’s very good, Blythe. Where is it?”

“Somewhere safe.”

“What do you mean by safe?”

Blythe shrugged and didn’t answer.

Vanessa felt sure her attitude resulted from his lordship’s trip, but discussing it would only make it worse. For the moment, distracting Blythe might serve best. “Your father draws beautifully.”

“Father draws bugs and things.”

“Does he ever draw scenes or people?”

Blythe’s shoulders tensed. “No. Not like those hanging on the walls. I liked the one in the drawing room, but someone stole it.”

A cold shiver ran the length of Vanessa’s spine. “Surely someone didn’t steal it.”

Her forehead puckered. “We woke up in the morning, and it was gone. And so was Miss Lillicrop. That’s when Father hired Johnson.” She colored the trunk of a tree with a brown pencil.

“I suppose he was in need of a butler.” Vanessa’s mind was in a whirl. Someone had actually stolen a painting from the house. Could it have been the governess? “Were the police called?”

Blythe nodded her eyes wide. “Two policemen came. Their uniforms had silver buttons, and they wore funny hats shaped like thimbles. One policeman wrote everything down in his notebook. They didn’t find the picture though.”

“Do you remember who the artist was?” Vanessa wondered if the painting was valuable. The work of many famous artists hung on the walls.

Blythe shrugged. “It was just a small picture of horses in a field.”

“Has anything else been taken?”

“I don’t think so.”

Vanessa had begun to suspect foul play, but she tried to ease Blythe’s mind. “I’m sure it must have been removed by mistake.”

The frown vanished from Blythe’s brow. “Really?”

“I expect it will turn up. That’s enough drawing for today. We’ll study color and the different painterly techniques artists employ. Then we’ll make a tour of the paintings in the house.”

Their discussion on the color wheel completed, Vanessa and Blythe wandered the house. They paused in front of a painting by Édouard Manet in the dining room. “This is an excellent example of
en plein air
,” Vanessa said.
The Picnic
was of a naked woman sitting beside clothed men in the park. “Impressionists liked to paint
en plein air,
or out of doors. They captured moments with short quick brushstrokes of color. Consequently, the works of Monet and Pissarro are not as finely wrought as the realism of the Gustave Courbet painting we’ve just been studying. You need to view the Impressionists from a distance.” Vanessa stepped back and bumped into the hard body of Lord Falconbridge.

Thoroughly disconcerted, she gasped. “Oh, I beg your pardon.”

“Hello, Father,” Blythe said. “Miss Ashley is teaching me all about art.”

A dark brow arched. “So I see.”

Vanessa sighed inwardly. Would he object? Manet’s painting featured prostitutes, although Blythe would not understand that.

“Father, can I read
Treasure Island?
”

“That’s quite a change from your usual books.” He looked searchingly at Vanessa, and she felt herself flush. “Might I see you for a moment, Miss Ashley? In my study.”

Vanessa summoned the nursery maid before hastening along the hall. Her legs felt like lead, and her pulse pounded in her throat. She entered the study where his lordship perched on the edge of his desk, swinging one leg and looking thoughtful. He stood as she entered and nodded in greeting. “Was
Treasure Island
your choice, Miss Ashley? I thought Blythe more interested in fantasy. Fairies and so forth.”

“Blythe chose it herself. I thought it might be due to your descriptions of your travels.”

“Ah.”

Concern for the child settled on Vanessa’s chest like a heavy weight. Could she burden him when he would soon be gone? It might be her last chance to speak. She swallowed. “My lord, I find Blythe often troubled. She is not the carefree child she should be. She has expressed nervousness about a missing painting and along with losing her mother and her governess leaving …”

He scowled, and she caught her breath. “You have been here only a short time, Miss Ashley. Don’t you think your assessment of my daughter is a trifle rash?”

“Perhaps, but the awful experiences she has faced cannot be denied. The loss of a mother …”

His lordship stalked away from her. He turned, his jaw tightening. “I believe you’ve overreached your position. These things are none of your concern.” The autocratic dark eyebrow rose again. “If you don’t feel up to performing your duties, then please tell me. I shall have to replace you, and I have little time in which to do it.”

Vanessa gasped. “I am confident I can perform my duties, my lord,” she said. “Your daughter says that she doesn’t feel safe in her own home.” The irritation in his eyes made her quake. “A little help from you would be appreciated. You did not tell me of these things that affect Blythe so deeply. I have had to feel my way with her. How can I help her if you keep such important issues from me?”

His eyes looked shadowed before he dropped his gaze. “I did not expect you to turn this into criticism of me, Miss Ashley.” A small smile flitted across his mouth. “I’m sure you would be first class in a debate. Like your mother perhaps?”

“My mother?” she asked, distracted.

“She believed in a woman’s right to vote, did she not?”

“She fought for that, yes. Along with many other women.” She put a hand to her burning cheek. “Blythe feels very insecure and with you leaving for such—”

“Now you go too far.” He thumped the desk, and the pens and pencils danced across it. Vanessa jumped also.

“I only thought you could set her mind at ease before you go.” Determined to fight for Blythe despite what it might cost her, she held his gaze steadily.

He huffed out a sigh. “How would you suggest I do that?”

“Blythe needs security. She needs to know there is permanence in her life. That the people she loves and values won’t desert her.”

“That’s a cruel thrust, Miss Ashley. How well you do it,” he said in a milder tone. “I am thankful you are not holding a rapier.” He picked up a pen and twirled it in his fingers. “You may go.”

Vanessa left the room trembling with frustration. Had she made things worse for Blythe? If he dismissed her, Blythe would have no one while her father was away.

*****

Julian sat down his chair. Damn and blast! Miss Ashley knew just how to provoke him! He ran his hands through his hair. Why, when his plans ran so smoothly, did he feel guilty and restless at the prospect of leaving? Usually, he couldn’t wait to go, and had gone without a backward glance, leaving Clara and baby Blythe behind. Now Clara was gone, and Blythe no longer a baby, the weight of responsibility settled more heavily on his shoulders than before. What if something went wrong while he was absent from home? He thrust the thought away and closed his journal with a snap. He hoped this trip would fulfill his expectations and be one of the last dangerous trips of lengthy duration he would make.

Julian straightened the pile of books on his desk with an impatient hand. He had come to rely on Miss Ashley to care for his child in his absence. She would do so, he was sure, it was just that he no longer considered it a fair arrangement. Neither was it fair to blame her for his frustration.

Why did he hate the thought of seeing condemnation in her eyes? Should he care a damn what an employee thought of him? He should dismiss her, not allow her to affect him this way.

In bed that night, after spending a good hour grappling with the fear that she would soon be leaving, Vanessa decided to teach Blythe to ride a bike. It would cheer the little girl up, and if Lord Falconbridge planned to dismiss her, there was no point in worrying whether he might disapprove of Blythe learning such modern ways.

After breakfast, they left the house. “Can I give Buttercup a carrot before we go riding?” Blythe asked.

She smiled as she looked at Blythe’s bright eyes. How she loved that horse of hers. “Very well.”

Lovel greeted them at the stables. As she waited for Blythe to feed the horse, he took off his hat and approached her. “Miss Ashley?”

“Yes, Lovel?” She turned to look at him. His full-lipped mouth broke into a brazen smile.

“I haven’t had the chance to ask if you enjoyed the fair.”

“I did, thank you. I believe you were in charge of the pony rides.”

He nodded. “My cousin Stephan runs the fair.”

“Does he? I didn’t know. I thought it very well run.”

He nodded and walked away.

Vanessa went to join Blythe. She ushered the girl towards the bicycle shed, wondering why Lovel felt compelled to speak to her about it.

She took the bike out onto the carriage drive, and Vanessa lowered the seat. As Blythe could ride a horse so well, she doubted she’d have trouble keeping her balance.

Laughing and wobbling over the driveway, Blythe soon mastered it and sallied forth like a duckling taking its first swim. She soon tired of the driveway, however.

“I want to go somewhere,” she cried. “Can I ride out along the road,
please
?”

“Not this time, Blythe.”

“You have ridden into the village, haven’t you, Miss Ashley?”

“Yes, but your father would not like it.” She was soon to learn exactly what Blythe’s father thought for he strode over the lawns towards them.

“Look, Father,” Blythe cried, riding around in a circle. “See what I can do? It’s such fun.”

“I’m watching, Blythe,” he called out. He came to stand beside Vanessa. “Why on earth doesn’t she topple over?”

“Blythe has good balance.” She glanced at him and tried to read his expression. “It’s perfectly acceptable these days to ride a bicycle. We cycled often in Cornwall.”

“Many things are done in Cornwall that are not done here.”

Her imminent dismissal made her bold. She would not allow him to browbeat her. “Very soon you will see bicycles everywhere.”

“Did you see how well I rode, Father?” Blythe rode over to them. “May I have a bicycle of my own?”

“I’ll think about it, Blythe.”

“Then Miss Ashley and I can ride into the village for tea.”

Lord Falconbridge had begun to frown. “Come to my study when you’re done here, Miss Ashley.”

Chewing her lip, she watched him walk back to the house. She should be planning where she might go from here, but it tore at her heart to think of it.

In Lord Falconbridge’s study, Vanessa’s heart beat fast under his scrutiny.

He walked across to her. “You are fond of Blythe, are you not?”

“Very, my lord,” she said, wondering where this was heading. He sounded surprisingly reasonable after yesterday. Was it to be just a rap on the knuckles as her father used to say?

“You might help her, Miss Ashley. Would you be prepared to do something out of the ordinary?”

His question took her completely by surprise. Vanessa fingered the watch at her breast. “Like what, my lord?”

He stood looking down at her. “I had intended to find a mother for Blythe, but I’ve had little time to do it.”

Did he wish her to find him one? The irrational thought flittered through her mind, which seemed to have turned to mush with him so close. And he was so close she could study the knot in his tie and smell his fresh cologne. She anxiously raised her eyes to search his, trying to read his mood.

He remained where he was, staring down at her. “Marry me, Miss Ashley.”

Vanessa didn’t trust her ears. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“It’s perfectly clear. I’m asking you to marry me.”

Vanessa drew a sharp breath. “This is not the time to joke, my lord.” She took a step backwards. “That’s absurd. I’m a governess.” He didn’t laugh. He didn’t even smile. The serious intent in his eyes almost knocked her knees from under her. “Lords don’t wed their household staff,” she said faintly.

“You are the daughter of a nobleman. You’ve fallen on hard times, but it doesn’t change your birthright.”

“You hardly know me … and … I don’t know you at all,” she blustered. She checked the watch at her breast. “I must be getting back …”

He stepped sideways, blocking her exit. “People often marry for convenience, Miss Ashley … Vanessa.”

Vanessa backed away.

He followed.

She found herself pressed up against the wall of framed butterflies. She felt very much like one. He leaned a hand against the wall behind her. He did want her pressed under glass!

“Don’t you see, my dear? This is what Blythe wants.”

“She is but ten years old, my lord.”

“Blythe is wise beyond her years.”

Vanessa’s lips trembled. “You don’t love me.”

“Does love have to enter into it? You’ll be surprised how often it doesn’t.”

“It’s what I’ve always wished for,” she said in a breathy voice, gazing into his clear blue eyes. She suspected she could fall in love with him, but he didn’t even pretend to love her and was unlikely ever to do so. Had he been so passionately in love with his wife he’d been jealous of the footman? He could marry Miss Patterson, with her perfect nose and such confidence in her feminine grace. Attributes which men found so attractive. Vanessa could never be that. Why hadn’t he chosen Miss Patterson? Surely, no woman would refuse his suit. Neither would she in different circumstances. If he went down on one knee, a declaration of his love with passion burning in his eyes, begging her…

“I’m offering you security and a home. That’s not so bad a bargain, is it?” Put in such unromantic terms, his words jolted her back to reality. It was to be expected. He was a rational scientist after all.

Vanessa mutely shook her head. Would a marriage that offered little fulfillment or passion be bearable? Especially if she wanted more from the man?

Acknowledging her apprehension, he moved away. “We could make it a marriage in name only until I return, and then we’ll see. Would you agree to it then?”

“I’ll have to think about it.” She darted around him and hurried to the door. “May I advise you of my decision at a later time?”

“We don’t have much time, Vanessa.”

She drew in a ragged breath. “I realize that, my lord.”

“My name is Julian.”

“Is it?” she asked distractedly, her hand on the doorknob. She turned it and fled.

Vanessa picked up her skirts and rushed along the corridor. Breathless, her heart pounding, she reached the day nursery just as Blythe and the nursery maid left it. “Oh there you are, Miss Ashley.” Blythe paused. “Are you all right? You look rather hot.”

“Yes, thank you, Blythe. I hurried because I didn’t want to miss you,” Vanessa said.

“I’m to have my bath now. Can we read more of the book after supper? What did Father want?”

“Oh … nothing of any importance, Blythe. Go and have your bath and we’ll read a bit more before you go to sleep.”

Entering her bedroom, Vanessa shut the door behind her. She sank onto the bed. Marriage to Lord Falconbridge? Had she dreamt he asked her? She studied her hands, absently rubbing her ring finger. A marriage of convenience for now, he’d said. It would give her complete control of this house in his absence. How would the servants react to that? Could she gain their respect, or would they think her a schemer who enticed her way into his lordship’s affections? It seemed overwhelming. And he didn’t love her. He had asked her because Blythe wished it. Hardly a good basis for marriage. Yet he would be gone for some time … and when he returned? They could have the marriage annulled if he wished. Or if she wished. Her mind whirled, and her stomach churned.

Vanessa lay down and crossed her hands over her stomach, staring at the ceiling. The Amazon was a primitive, dangerous place. What if his lordship didn’t return? The horror of it made a moan escape her lips. What would happen to Blythe then? Did she have relatives who would take her in and care for her? Would her birthright be protected? Was there someone reliable and trustworthy to keep her fortune safe until she came of age? It was such a difficult world. She had little confidence in it, particularly after her own experience. Wishing she knew these things, she planned to ask him.

The security his lordship offered was tempting, indeed. Nevertheless, marriage should be built on a strong foundation and be for the right reasons, otherwise it could founder….and then couples were forced to remain together in purgatory. Unless one left as Clara had done. Vanessa sat up, rubbing her arms. If she refused him, would he keep her on here after he returned? Would the embarrassment of what happened between them make it impossible for her to remain? Where on earth would she find suitable employment? She might learn secretarial skills, women were doing that now….

She closed her eyes. Her heart felt like it gave a sad little leap. What if she fell deeply in love with him, and he not with her?

The answer came to her, calming her. She would have Blythe.

*****

The next morning, dressed in her best gown with the green leaf pattern, Vanessa knocked at his lordship’s door. She rubbed her stiff neck. She had lain awake long into the night and came to the decision that by now he would have changed his mind and regained his senses. Had he been afflicted with some tropical disease on his last trip that had affected his reason?

She quaked when he called for her to enter.

“There you are, Vanessa,” he said smoothly, rising to approach her. He was immaculately dressed and unruffled as she stood trembling before him. “How well that color suits you. Have you made a decision?”

Vanessa cleared her throat. She would get right to the point before her wits deserted her. “Does Blythe have relatives to care for her should you not return from South America, my lord?”

“It’s right that you should ask this,” he said. “My brother emigrated to Canada. I haven’t heard from him for some years.”

“Your parents?”

“Both deceased.” He rubbed the crease in his brow with a finger. “It is that reason I’ve been most concerned.”

“There’s no one else who would care for Blythe?”

“If there was, I would leave her in their care. My former wife’s relatives live in France. We do not communicate.”

Vanessa took a deep breath to steady her nerves. “Then I will marry you, my lord.”
What are you doing, you foolish woman? He’ll break your heart.

His gaze lightened, more from gratitude than pleasure most likely. “That’s wonderful, Vanessa.”

“Until you return, it will be a marriage in name only,” she said quickly, “for Blythe’s sake.”

“I’ve thought about that, my dear. I think it wise, once we are wed, that the marriage continues in the normal fashion.”

While he had a perfect right to wish the marriage consummated, Vanessa’s heart increased its tempo. “But it was your idea …”

“Yes, I know. But having given it due consideration, for the staff to accept you as their mistress, I believe radical changes must be made to establish your authority before I leave.”

She had to admit to the sense of it, despite her fears. Yet her future peace of mind was at great risk from this man. To lose him now would be terrible, to lose him when her lover, beyond imagining. “Perhaps we might create a ruse?”

His brows rose, and a humorous gleam lit his eyes. “A ruse? Do you really think the servants would be fooled?”

Vanessa clutched her hands together. Really, didn’t he understand her position when he coolly suggested they inhabit the same bed for the few weeks left to them before he departed? She admitted to the odd moment of reflection in the past but had never seriously considered they might become…. A frisson of panic raced through her body, and her knees trembled so much she doubted they’d hold her up. She placed a hand on the back of a chair.

“It might serve,” she said cautiously, hating that her voice wobbled.

A smile played at the edges of his mouth. “Good. Shall we go and tell Blythe?”

He was shrewd as well as intelligent. He knew she would give in at the mention of his daughter. Vanessa had admitted to herself during the long night that she had come to care deeply for Blythe. “If you think it best, my lord.” She dropped her gaze to hide that she was well aware of his strategy. It was a noble sacrifice after all.

“I do.” He stepped close. “I promise never to hurt you,” he murmured.

At least not intentionally, she thought crossly. A marriage of convenience would not affect him as it would her. He would be gone very soon, departing on a dangerous journey, perhaps never to return, leaving her heart in tatters and a child in even worse straights.
Really
!

“Come, let’s go to Blythe. I can’t wait to tell her.”

“You’re so sure she will approve, my lord.” How could his mere proximity have her fighting to gain her breath? “What if she doesn’t?” she asked, gaining control of her voice. “May we then forget this rash scheme?”

“Of course. You are quite right.” He held the door open for her. “But she’ll be delighted, you’ll see. And, Vanessa?”

“Yes, my lord?”

“At least when we’re alone, would you please call me by my given name?”

“And when we’re not?” A thought she hadn’t yet considered hit her with force. She knew none of the ways of society, and was struck by the enormity of the task ahead.

“My full name is Julian St. John William Grieve, 4th Viscount Falconbridge. Viscount Falconbridge is a title in the Peerage of Ireland. It was created in 1668 for William Grieve, First Baron Falconbridge. My father sold off the lands to the tenants and went into business earlier this century, but there remains an estate in Ireland, in County Wicklow. The property is leased. One day I will take you there.”

She was about to become a viscountess and would be thrown headlong into upper-class society. When she stumbled over her feet, he caught her elbow in a strong grip. “How interesting,” she said in a tight voice.