When Lady Kinsford requested seedcake, Mr. Traling instantly offered to find it. Meg and Betty were both upstairs, with Miss Driscoll and the midwife. Mr. Traling was happy to be of any service that would take him out of the dowager’s immediate vicinity. He hunted through the various cabinets in the kitchen until he came to the metal box that contained the seedcake. As he sliced off several large pieces, he happened to look out the back window and saw Lord Kinsford riding toward Miss Driscoll’s cottage. Mr. Traling let himself out the back door and waved the earl to the back of the building.
“You could tie the horse here,” he suggested. “It’s rather crowded out front.”
Kinsford swung down from Longbridge. “You here again?” he asked with slight acerbity.
“Yes, this is not a day when poor Clarissa is going to get any peace.’’
The previous day Kinsford might have allowed the familiarity to distress him. Now he merely asked, “Why not?”
“There are quite a few people here requiring her attention. My wife Jane, for instance, is in the midst of giving birth. Which of course required a midwife who arrived some while ago. Jane is in Clarissa’s bedchamber, and Lady Aria is in Miss Snolgrass’s room catering to the dog Max. Her mama is in the sitting room waiting for seedcake and reminiscing about the birth of her children. William, in a hussar’s uniform, is there with her.”
“A regular May Day festival,” Kinsford murmured. “Poor Miss Driscoll.”
At which moment there was a different sort of cry from the room upstairs, that of a newborn babe.
When Mr. Traling had disappeared upstairs, Kinsford presented himself in the sitting room with the seedcake the younger man had cut. His stepmama regarded him with confusion.
“I didn’t know you were here, Kinsford,” she said, frowning. “What happened to that other fellow?”
“Mr. Traling has gone up to see his new child.” He raised his brows at William, lounging in the old hussar’s uniform.
"Aria told me to wear it,” William protested. “Remember, it was in the trunk in the north attic. Perhaps she was having one of her disoriented phases,” he suggested, not meeting Kinsford’s eyes.
“Hmmm.” He turned back to his stepmother. “Is there anything I can get you, ma’am?” His stepmother sighed. “Women die in childbirth, you know. Lots of women. You live in fear that you will die, or the child, or that you will have to have another one and bear all that pain. I became pregnant once when Will was ten, you know. The thought of having another child terrified me. I had nightmares about its tearing me apart.”
She set down her teacup and wrung her hands in her lap. “And then I miscarried. The earl was very disappointed, and I felt wretchedly guilty, as though my fear had brought it on. I don’t think that could be true, do you?”
William, to whom this discourse seemed to have been directed, dropped down beside his mother on the sofa and clasped her hand tightly in his own. “No, I’m quite certain that it could not have done that, Mama. These things happen in the course of nature.”
Lady Kinsford nodded, her head slightly cocked to one side. “Your father was angry, you see. He thought I had not taken good care of myself. Though why he so particularly wanted another child, I cannot imagine.”
“Perhaps he thought that none of the ones he had already gotten were quite what he expected,” William suggested, glancing at Kinsford with obvious affinity.
“Perhaps.” Lady Kinsford also shifted her attention to Kinsford. “Things were never the same after that,” she mused, fingering the folds of her own gown with agitated fingers. “Nothing seemed quite to please him any more...and no one. It was very distressing. Very distressing.’’
“Of course it was,” Kinsford agreed, feeling a slight understanding of his stepmother for the first time in years. “Let me get Aria, and then I will send the three of you home. We mustn’t clutter up Miss Driscoll‘s house any longer.”
Lady Kinsford ‘s face softened into a smile. “Can we take Aria home, then? How nice. She should change, though. She looks a fright.”
William grinned at Kinsford’s questioning look. “You’ll see.’’
The earl found his sister in a most extraordinary costume indeed, with the dog beside her and a watercolor pad on her lap. “Oh, Kinsford, we have been having the most famous time,” Aria cried at sight of him. “Mrs. Traling has had a baby boy and Miss Driscoll is going to bring him in for me to see in a minute.”
“I see.” He folded himself into the rocking chair, as he had on so many previous occasions. “Was this costume intended to convince me of another episode of disorientation, Aria?”
Aria giggled, not at all discomposed by his knowledge of the truth. “Lord, it seems ages ago. When I heard someone come, I thought it was Will and I went dashing downstairs. I had sent him a note asking him to wear the hussar’s uniform. He looks quite dashing, doesn’t he? I had decided I would say we were going to a ball because then I could get dressed up. You know, I don’t think Miss Driscoll quite believed me, either.”
“I’m not surprised,” Kinsford said dryly. “She’s not easily hoodwinked.”
Aria regarded him curiously, then shoved the watercolor toward him. “This is what I’ve been working on for the last few days. What do you think?”
All the characters in the drama were there: Kinsford, and William, and Max, and Steven Traling (Aria was working on his wife), and Miss Driscoll, and the maids Meg and Betty, and Lady Kinsford, and Dr. Lawrence. The drawing was a doll’s house view of the cottage, with the characters in various rooms, but Lady Aria herself in each room with whoever was there. It was a charming collage of scenes. “Of course, I shall have to add the baby once I’ve seen him,” she said.
“What a charming collage!” Kinsford exclaimed. “I suppose this is me, standing over Miss Driscoll wagging my finger.”
Aria ducked her head impishly. “You simply would not believe what a superb creature she is.”
“It has merely taken me a little longer to learn, Aria. I haven’t, after all, spent as much time as you have in the country.”
“More’s the pity,” murmured his sister.
Kinsford ruefully agreed. “I have a mind to spend more time here.”
“I had hoped you would.” Aria took back the watercolor pad and ran a finger over the scene of her with bandaged head in the sitting room after the accident. “You’re not angry with me about my little deception, are you, Alexander?”
Before he could answer, Clarissa appeared at the door, holding a small infant wrapped in a soft blanket. The child’s tiny fingers were just visible, and its face was red from crying and the exhaustion of being born. Mr. Traling was right behind her.
“Why, he’s beautiful," Aria exclaimed, earning her Steven’s undying gratitude, for the child looked quite ugly to him. Not at all the soft-edged little angel he had expected.
Steven, without taking his eyes from his son, said, “I’m dreadfully sorry we’ve taken up your bedchamber, Clarissa. And I don’t suppose Jane can be moved for a while.”
‘‘I'll find a spot in the sitting room,’’ Clarissa replied. “Sometimes one’s house does not seem
quite
large enough.”
Kinsford found that Clarissa was avoiding his eyes, but he only smiled. “There’s no need for that, Miss Driscoll. As soon as Aria changes into proper clothes, she and Will are taking their mother back to the Hall.”
“Are we?” Aria asked, disappointed. “But I should like very much to stay and play with the baby, Kinsford.”
“Perhaps another day,” he replied. “The baby is a little young for so much excitement. I’m sure Mr. Traling wishes to return him to his mother. And while you’re changing, Aria, Miss Driscoll and I are going to take Max for a walk.”
“Are we?” Clarissa asked uncertainly.
“We are.” Kinsford decreed.
Clarissa might have protested, but she did not really object to accompanying his lordship from the cottage. She threw a blue shawl about her shoulders and allowed Kinsford to tie the lead about the dog’s neck.
When the front door closed behind them, Kinsford tucked Clarissa’s hand under his arm and began to walk down the lane toward the fields. The day was a little cooler than it had been earlier, and there was a wispy breeze, but the sun shone brightly. Clarissa peeked up at Kinsford, to see what she could read of his face, and found that he was gazing down at her with a most intriguing light in his eyes.
Her heart
would
dance in her breast, and she swallowed hard against a sudden and unexpected swell of tears. It had been such a very long time since she had fallen in love with Alexander Barrington. It had been for such a very long time that she had denied that love, or even the remotest interest in this self-contained, slightly haughty, strong, and wonderful man.
In an expectant but companionable silence they walked toward Clarissa’s old home of Pennhurst. Just as it came in sight, they reached the stile where Kinsford had kissed her so many years ago. “Here,” he said, and motioned to the grassy hillock on their right. They seated themselves there, with Max snuffling busily about the bushes, tugging again and again at the lead. Eventually Kinsford, with a shrug of his shoulders, let the lead go and allowed the dog to wander off on his own. “If he gets lost it will serve him right. I dare say you never wanted him in your house at all.”
“I’ve grown accustomed to him,” Clarissa admitted. “But it’s Aria who has fallen in love with him. She would be devastated if he didn’t come back.”
“Oh, he’ll come back. Never fear. The animal has a very good sense of what is good for him. He even cozied up to me when Franklin brought him to the Hall.”
“No!” Clarissa grinned at him. “Surely the animal didn’t realize your importance or he would never have been so presumptuous.”
“Are you mocking me?” He lifted her hand to his lips. “I find that I like that, from you. Have I told you how dearly I love you?”
“But, Alexander..."
“Well, if I haven’t, I shall tell you now. I am head over ears in love with you. I shan’t be able to sleep, or eat, or ride if you don’t agree to marry me.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “I know you fear you will lose your independence. But, my dearest, just look at my stepmama. She does precisely what she wishes, says anything that comes to her mind. Being Lady Kinsford does not necessarily inhibit one’s creativity, does it?”
Clarissa shook her head with amusement. “I must admit I had never looked at it in quite that light. It’s not that I don’t love you, Alexander,” she admitted softly. “I do love you. When I see you, I am sometimes quite overcome with emotion. And I think of you when you’re not with me. But..."
“But it would make a change in your life, and you are not certain it is entirely advantageous.” He studied her with those intense eyes. “I dare say it won’t all be advantageous, Clarissa. There will be onerous duties as a countess, and some constriction of your freedom. Still, you would have my very great encouragement to lead the kind of life you wished.”
“You might forget that if I did something outrageous. Or you might be called back to London and leave me to sort things out here,” she argued, but weakly. He was running a finger tenderly over the contours of her face.
“If I forget, you will remind me. If I leave for London, I will leave with you. I promise, Clarissa.” He pulled her tightly against his strong chest. “We’ll make things work together, because I know I am asking a lot—for you to take on a husband and two rambunctious young people, and an odd and irascible stepmother-in-law. To say nothing of a dog of questionable discrimination.”
Max had charged up to them and now barked sharply, but they ignored him. Clarissa pulled back from the earl’s hold a little to protest, “But you were very irritated with me when you first came to see me last week. Don’t you see that that could happen again?”
“You were doing everything for the children that I should have been doing. I couldn’t bear to think of it, especially after what my family had done to you.” When she started to speak, he released her and touched a finger to her lips. “Just remember this one thing. If you don’t wish to marry me, there will still be an annuity for you. I could do no less after what you’ve done for us. You don’t have to take on this short-tempered, unreasonable man if you really don’t love him.”
Her eyes shone with amusement and a deep affection. “Oh, Kinsford, I don’t know how I would manage anymore without you around. I cannot bear the thought of your returning to London again, leaving me alone here. Just the way I’ve always been, and yet not at all as I was. Everything has changed.”
He drew her to him again, holding her for a long moment before releasing her. “I had no idea I could feel this way about anyone. And I’m afraid I’m not always much good at it; I’ve been jealous and contrary instead of generous and agreeable. Will you bear with me?”
“Yes,” she said, her eyes full of the warmth and openness that he loved and needed. “You’re certainly the most challenging person I’ve ever loved, but I love you in such a very special way that I dare say we shall rub along quite well, my dear.”
When he bent to kiss her, Max ran round and round where they were seated, barking excitedly. But it was several minutes before they paid him the least heed, and then only to scoop him up between them and tell him to hush.
Copyright © 1993 by Elizabeth Rotter
Originally published by Signet
Electronically published in 2002 by Belgrave House/Regency Reads
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
No portion of this book may be reprinted in whole or in part, by printing, faxing, E-mail, copying electronically or by any other means without permission of the publisher. For more information, contact Belgrave House, 190 Belgrave Avenue, San Francisco, CA 94117-4228
http://www.RegencyReads.com
Electronic sales: [email protected]