A Duke to Elude: Sweet Regency Romance (Sherton Sisters Book 1) Page 13

  “There isn’t a single brave thing about me. I have been insulating and protecting myself for more than two years. I kept this terrible secret out of fear of the consequences. If I had been truly brave, I would have ensured that Prescott was stopped. The fact that you have been demanding information about him tells me that he has been up to no good again. Perhaps if I had said or done something back then, he could have been stopped.”

  “You were a young girl. It was not your responsibility to stop him. I’m actually amazed that your parents allowed you to find yourself in the situation you did. While it was prudent on your father’s part to make sure you knew how to look after yourself, why wasn’t he by your side looking after you?” James could hear his anger leaking through his voice and tried to rein it in again. But Rosabel didn’t seem to mind. Now she was squeezing his hand, as though to offer comfort.

  “I’m only sorry that this probably isn’t at all useful to you. And there will be trouble for both of us due to this excursion. Gossip at the very least.”

  “You’ve held your head up through worse and gotten through it. You have nothing to fear now. With your maid along and the early hour, it might turn out that no one even will notice. When we return to Town, it’ll be the Fashionable Hour and it will be assumed that we went for a short drive.”

  “That is probably true, but since this is the second time this week, there will still be talk.”

  “You’ve told me yourself that you’re always talked about.”

  “One of things I’m talked about for is the fact that I never ride with a man twice. The last time there was serious gossip about me was in connection with Prescott.”

  James felt his jaw tightening, hating the thought that he could be lumped in with that bounder in any way. He heard her sigh.

  “And now you know my great big secret, and it probably hasn’t helped you in the least.”

  James smiled over her mournful tone.

  “It helped more than you could realize.” He didn’t want to elaborate but at her hopeful expression, he continued. “For one thing, thinking you were involved in some way was a huge distraction for me, so finding out the truth of the matter has, in one way, lifted a weight off my mind. And it is further fuel to the knowledge I already had about Prescott. I am more determined than ever to stop him.”

  “What exactly is he doing?”

  “He is trying to influence a bill that has the potential to stir up a great deal of trouble in the colonies.”

  “Oh dear, even I know that wouldn’t be good for the nation at a time like this.”

  “No,” he agreed with a heavy tone.

  “Which colonies? Does that make a difference? I don’t know much, but I know there are different matters involved depending on the area.”

  “It’s the Canadas. In British North America.”

  “Interesting. Have you any idea what his motivations are? What could he possibly have to gain by there being trouble?”

  James stared at her. It was exactly what he was consumed with trying to resolve.

  “I’m not sure yet. I have men looking into it.”

  “Is there anything I can do to help?” He could hear nervous determination in her tone.

  James was filled with astonishment. Her questions had been insightful, more thoughtful than he would have expected from a debutante, which was foolish, he realized, as he was coming to know more and more about this particular young woman.

  “Thank you for the offer. I will keep it in mind,” he answered, even though a part of him was instinctively repudiating the thought of allowing her to be involved. He had already involved her by demanding this meeting. He couldn’t reject her offer now after what she had put herself through. She truly could have refused him. He would never have done anything to put her or her sisters at risk.

  Despite the walking pace of his horses all this time, they had finally drawn close to the town he had as their destination.

  “If I haven’t, after all, completely ruined your day, I would be honoured if you would accompany me for tea at the Boar and Hog Inn.”

  “Is it truly called the Boar and Hog?” she asked with the first laughter he had heard from her that day. He caught a glimpse, in that moment, of the young girl she had once been.

  “It is.”

  “Seems kind of redundant to me.”

  “My friend is a good man but not the most imaginative.”

  She giggled again and there was a touch of hysteria to it, making James realize that reaction was beginning to set in for her. He regretted the depth of fear he had caused her. He would have to see that her tea was fortified a little.

  “I think tea would be just the thing we need right now,” Rosabel said firmly. “And Sally needs some, too, I think.”

  James glanced at the maid, who had sat in near silence through the entire recounting of her mistress’ tale. Her face was tear stained and tragic, but she met his gaze fiercely, as though challenging him to treat her mistress well. He nodded at her.

  “Of course, Sally shall have tea as well.”

  When they pulled into the yard of the inn, Wexford jumped down before a footman could reach them and reached up for Rosabel himself. He took far longer than necessary lowering her to the ground. It was the closest he could come to embracing her as he wished. He was pleased to see the pink restored to her cheeks. He stifled a shout of laughter as his gaze encountered that of the fierce little maid, who was glaring at him for his effrontery.

  His friend was waiting for them and before long, after introductions, James and Rosabel were ushered into a private dining area while Sally skipped off toward the taproom, pleased to have found out that the innkeeper’s wife was some sort of a family connection.

  “Well, her fierce protectiveness certainly was laid to rest in the strangest manner,” Rosabel commented with a pensive tone.

  “For some, the presence of a familiar face makes all the difference,” James agreed sagely while he really wanted to laugh but was concerned that Rosabel might still be feeling a little fragile after her retelling.

  “I must ask: how have you managed to carry on with your Seasons while keeping your secret? Did you not encounter Prescott? How did you manage not to plant him a facer each time?”

  He had meant to discuss calm, innocuous subjects so was surprised to find this burning question could not be contained. They were already seated, and Rosabel was pouring the tea just as he had said he liked it. Of course, the fact that was how she liked it, too, might have made it easier to remember, but James liked to think that she had taken note of the details he had shared.

  Rosabel was smiling quite naturally when she put her teacup down to answer his question, much to James’ relief. He had been well aware that her façade of calm tranquility at all times had been just that – a façade. But it was a pleasure to see her normal, natural reactions. He wondered if it would be just for him or if she would become natural once more with everyone.

  “That was the very worst part, in all actuality. It seemed as though he was everywhere. That first Season was ruined, of course. I couldn’t accept anyone’s attentions after my encounter with Prescott in the Chorneys’ library. My trust had been shattered, it felt like my very being had been altered, although that sounds terribly melodramatic in hindsight. But as I said, I was young and innocent when I entered the room. I was a different person when I left it.”

  James stared at her for a moment. “But he didn’t actually – “ He couldn’t even complete the question. Rosabel actually laughed a little.

  “No, no. I made short work of ending his attentions with a swift knee and two punches. But I had never visited violence upon another person before. And shockingly, Society would have been more alarmed by my actions than Prescott’s. That realization was what hurt me the worst, I think. It took me a long time to be able to speak to anyone about anything. Even the weather or fashions or anything. I went from trusting everyone to no one in the space of time it takes to dance the quadrille.
”

  She paused, contemplating the liquid in her cup rather than meeting James’ gaze.

  “But that isn’t what you asked. You asked how I managed to make it through the Season. It wasn’t actually all that difficult. Everyone prefers the sound of their own voice rather than that of someone else. Barely anyone noticed that I had gone silent. I think my mother wondered, as she would watch me upon occasion. And my sisters thought it strange, but they just thought I was putting on airs from having some Town Bronze.”

  James’ heart twisted as he watched her lips twist in a wry expression of self-deprecation, as though she were embarrassed over her changes rather than proud of the fact that she had survived something so horrible.

  “I find it hard to believe that no one noticed.”

  Rosabel shrugged. “Tell me about your favourite estate.”

  James laughed. Clearly the girl wished to change the subject. “What makes you think I have a favourite?”

  Rosabel smiled. “Because even though my father is Sherton, we live in a place called Glendale. Everyone has different preferences. You probably have at least four or five estates. You have three titles, all of which are attached to land, if Debrett’s has it right. Surely there are other, unentailed lands. Thus, my question.”

  “You are an astute girl,” he answered mildly, watching as she shrugged.

  “When you stop talking, you are forced to hear and think more. It took me a while to stop thinking only of myself, but I did learn to observe others. But that is not the point. I am now wondering why you are dithering over what should be an easier than average question.”

  James chuckled again. “I am merely wondering how to admit that I’ve never considered the question before. I was led to believe that I am Wexford and that was where I must reside. I only visit the other estates on occasion to check how they go on. I didn’t think it was an option that I could make one of them my home. It is a strangely unsettling thought.”

  He was made even more unsettled by the watchful blue eyes before of him. It felt to him as though Rosabel’s steady gaze could read all the way into his soul. He had no idea what she would find there, as he didn’t yet know how he felt on the subject.

  She blinked and it was as though she relented with a slight shrug and a nod.

  “Very well, then, tell me about Wexford. I’ve never been to your part of the realm. Is it very green?”

  James smiled. “Now you’re just humoring me. Everywhere in England is very green.”

  The girl grinned and James’ heart turned over once more. It was becoming most vexing. He wondered if he should invite his family’s doctor to attend him when he returned to Town.

  “You are still dithering, Your Grace. It makes me wonder if you’re trying to hide something about your estates. Are they not as profitable as the gossips let on?”

  James heard the teasing in her voice and loved it. The girl was resilient to say the least. He had thought she would hate him forever after he made her relive her worst experience, and here she was trying to tease him into a smile.

  “What have the gossips been saying?”

  “Well, besides your coronet, which, as you know, would make you highly eligible even if you were a pauper. But you might be forced to fend off more cits if that were the case, of course. But I digress. The gossips love to count your coin. I never could discover how the gossips think they know the contents of all the gentlemen’s purses, but it is often bandied about how many thousands this gentleman has per year, and how many tens of thousands this one has.”

  “And where am I purported to fall?”

  “Definitely in the tens, I would expect.”

  “Tens only?”

  “I thought the thousands were implied, Your Grace,” she answered, her tone still mocking the joke.

  “And how do the gossips suppose I acquire such largesse?”

  “Mining, I suppose. I haven’t dug too much into the topic, seeing as I’m not in the market for a coronet. It seemed churlish to merely seek the information for information’s sake.”

  James laughed loudly, bringing a flush to his companion’s face.

  “Well, it’s good to know that all my business isn’t being aired around Town.”

  She shrugged. “Only most of it,” she agreed with a smile. “So, tell me. Is it mines? Or wool? Or horses? My father has recently taken to breeding horses. Gorgeous creatures. I don’t like to visit the stables terribly often now, as I cannot bear to think of growing attached to them and then he sells them.”

  “Your heart is surprisingly soft for one who has made such an effort to harden herself.”

  He found her awkward shrug endearing. “Horses have never harmed me. But why are you still dithering, Your Grace? You cannot convince me that there is nothing to tell. Are the gossips all lying? Are your estates actually languishing into ruin and no one has heard a breath of the scandal? Do tell.”

  She put her elbows on the table and her chin in her hand as though in anticipation of a vivid tale. James grinned over her display but finally launched into a description.

  “I could answer you with one word – yes. But then you’d make eyes at me as though I had kicked a puppy and demand to know which question the yes answered.” He paused to appreciate the grin she gave him. “But the yes would actually answer most of your questions. Yes, we mine, yes, we have wool, and yes, to the horses as well. But I keep my horses for sale well separate from my own stables, as my sister wanted to keep every single one of them. My stables were bursting at the seams, as she didn’t want to let a single one go. I sent her away for a year of school, had new facilities built, and rearranged my stables before she returned.”

  “Oh dear, was she terribly heartbroken when she returned?”

  “I also made sure there was a puppy in residence before her carriage arrived.”

  The nod of approval she offered him was strangely gratifying.

  “You are just as I imagined a big brother ought to be.”

  “Did you imagine it often?”

  “Of course,” she answered simply, before chiding, “But don’t leave the subject at hand once more, Your Grace. Tell me about your mines. Is it tin? Ore? Silver? Do you ever go down in them? I cannot imagine, as the thought of going underground makes me feel a little green, but I suppose you are made of sterner stuff.”

  James appreciated her confidence in him but wanted to both nod and shake his head at once.

  “I have gone down in them, but not often. As I’m sure you can imagine, my presence is not conducive to productivity. But I need to be sure that my men are being treated properly. I like to see for myself, even though I trust those I’ve hired to oversee everything. I can’t say that I love it down there, but I am filled with admiration for those who are willing to do the work.”

  “I suppose you reward them for that willingness.”

  Her tone was light, but James caught the speculative gleam in her eye. He actually felt heat staining his cheeks.

  “Are you turning into a reformer now?” he teased. While she began to bluster, he laughed and assured her. “Of course, I pay my miners a fair wage. I profit significantly from their labour. It would be churlish of me not to.” When she smiled at him with approval, James was inclined to preen but managed to restrain the impulse.

  “Now, you tell me about Glendale and Sherton.”

  “But you still have so much to tell me about Wexford.”

  “I’ll show you sometime,” he promised. He was suddenly filled with an intense desire to have her see his home. And just as suddenly, he realized he was allowing the day to get out of his control. “Perhaps we should continue this conversation while we drive back to Town.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Rosabel blinked. Wexford had suddenly grown cooler. It was just as well. She needed to rein in her burgeoning feelings for him. She didn’t want to be part of his life on the forefront of Society. And she didn’t appreciate the fact that he was involved in investigations about Presco
tt. She trusted that he would keep her secrets confidential, but she couldn’t be involved in any way.

  “It’s about time that I collect Sally, anyway,” Rosabel agreed, rising to her feet. “The time has probably fled faster than we thought, as it often does.”

  “Especially when one is having a good time,” Wexford agreed, his smile warming her even as he headed toward the door. “I’ll see about the carriage.”

  With that he was out the door, leaving Rosabel staring after him in consternation. She didn’t think it was anything she had said. Perhaps he had remembered an appointment he needed to get to. Rosabel glanced around, wondering if there was a clock that had caught his eye, but she couldn’t see or hear one. With a shrug, she proceeded to do as she had said, heading toward the taproom where she was sure to find her maid.

  It would seem her maid hadn’t been bored while Rosabel and Wexford had their quiet tea. The room was alive with chatter and laughter. Bel couldn’t help the smile that stretched her face as she watched the scene as though it were a performance for her enjoyment.

  Within moments, though, the occupants realized she was there, and their fun was ruined.

  “My apologizes, my good people, I didn’t mean to interrupt, but I need to be on my way and need my companion.”

  “Oh, my lady, no need to apologize. I do hope I haven’t kept you waiting.” Sally was bobbing curtseys even as she was struggling to don her wrap and run toward her mistress.

  “Not in the least, Sally, we have just now decided that we ought to be back on the road.”

  “Very good, my lady. It was such a good time I was having. I’m ever so glad I came with you. Even though, of course, that is to say, I wish you hadn’t been made to be uncomfortable, of course.”

  Rosabel laughed lightly. “Don’t worry about it, Sally, I know exactly what you meant. I’m glad you were able to have a good time. There’s no need to sit in mourning for my sad tale. If anything, it tells us we need to live our lives, not sit around feeling overwhelmed or overprotective. I’m very happy that you came with me and that you’ve been paid with a bit of fun. But come along. I’m sure you can imagine that the countess will be having fits soon if we aren’t back.”