Sarah Mallory – A Lady for Lord Randall (страница 8)
‘Of course I am not afraid,’ she told herself crossly.
But the thought rankled. Papa had brought her up to fear nothing and question everything. There was a logical explanation for all things, he had said. Face your demons and you will understand them. And Lord Randall could hardly be called a demon. Proud, yes. Autocratic, definitely, and used to being obeyed, but no demon.
She rose and shook out her skirts. She would go with the Bentincks this afternoon and prove to herself that there was nothing remotely dangerous in taking tea at Somervil House.
* * *
Harriett came forward as they were shown into the drawing room, saying cheerfully, ‘I almost suggested we should put a table on the terrace, it is so warm. But, Mary, what is this Randall tells me, you have hurt your foot?’
‘It is the veriest scratch,’ she replied, ‘As you see I am perfectly able to walk upon it.’
Mr Graveney and Lord Randall were standing together by the window and Mary dipped a curtsy to them both before choosing to sit down in a chair on the far side of the room. She had hoped that in his sister’s house the earl might look a little less imposing, but no. His upright bearing and long-limbed figure were even more noticeable next to portly Mr Graveney. Just looking at the earl made her mouth go dry. He looked so solid and dependable, and Mary thought suddenly how comfortable it would be to have someone she could lean upon.
‘That would be lovely, would it not, Mary?’
Mrs Bentinck was handing her a cup of tea.
‘I beg your pardon,’ she stammered. ‘My thoughts were miles away.’
‘Mrs Graveney was suggesting we should take a walk later, to see how they have landscaped the gardens.’
‘Yes, an excellent idea,’ Mary concurred. She really must concentrate.
‘Unless you would rather sit here and rest your foot,’ suggested Harriett. ‘Randall could keep you company.’
‘No, no, I am perfectly well, thank you,’ Mary replied hastily. ‘And I would very much like to see your gardens before I leave.’
‘Yes, they have turned out very well, I think,’ said Mr Graveney. ‘Although they are nothing to the grounds of Chalfont Abbey, Lord Randall’s country seat.’
‘I can take no credit for that. My military duties do not allow me much time at the Abbey, but my mother keeps everything in excellent order.’
Mr Bentinck turned to the earl.
‘I trust, my lord, that you did not suffer overmuch from being thrust into the lion’s den the other night?’
‘Not at all, sir.’
Harriett laughed.
‘My brother is being polite, Mr Bentinck. He thinks many of your guests would be improved by a spell in the military.’
‘And so they would,’ agreed Mrs Bentinck, chuckling. ‘Or even if they had to work for their living, as poor Mary is obliged to do, and to suffer the indignity of being shunned in polite society by those who are only too willing to use her services. Is that not so, my dear?’
‘Oh, it is not so bad, really.’
Randall saw the telltale blush stealing into Mary’s cheek as she murmured her reply and was glad for her sake when Bentinck took the discussion in a different direction.
It was no wonder she should look embarrassed. He glanced at his sister; she was continuing to pour tea as if nothing was amiss at all. He felt his jaw set hard in disapproval. Graveney had led his sister too far down the path of radicalism for his liking, but he was a guest in the fellow’s house, he could hardly voice his disapproval now.
* * *
When they had finished drinking their tea and the idea of a walk was again mooted he decided to make his excuses and withdraw. Unfortunately Hattie had other ideas.
‘Oh, but you cannot disappear now, Randall. Theo wants to show Mr Bentinck the new book he has purchased, and since you saw it when you returned from your ride this morning you must escort us.’ She took his arm. ‘Come along, a little fresh air will soon put that gloomy look of yours to flight!’
Harriett shepherded the ladies into the hall, saying as they put on their bonnets, ‘I intended to show Mary the gardens when she arrived last week, but the weather has been so inclement I have not yet done so. Do not worry, though, the new gravel paths will make it perfectly dry underfoot.’
The paths were indeed dry, but Randall soon discovered that they were not wide enough for them all to walk together. Harriett took Mrs Bentinck’s arm and moved ahead, leaving him no option but to walk beside Mary Endacott.
‘I doubt this is how you intended to spend your afternoon,’ she remarked. ‘If you have business elsewhere I do not mind walking alone.’
‘I am perfectly happy to escort you.’ He held out his arm to her. ‘Besides, to do anything else would incur my sister’s wrath.’
She chuckled at that.
‘I cannot imagine that would worry you overmuch.’
‘You were at school with Harriett, Miss Endacott. You know that she is not one to be gainsaid. All the Latymors are strong-willed, except my youngest sister, Sarah. She is very biddable.’
‘Overwhelmed by the rest of you, no doubt.’
‘Very likely. She is certainly unlike her twin, Gideon. He is a hothead.’
* * *
They strolled on, mainly in silence, but occasionally stopping to admire the new plantings and statuary that had been installed in the gardens. Randall found himself relaxing and enjoying the afternoon sunshine. He glanced down at the silent figure beside him. Mary looked completely at ease and he thought how comfortable it was to have a woman on his arm who did not consider it necessary to be chattering all the time. She was just the right height, too, her head no higher than his shoulder. They passed the new rose garden with its arbour at the far end. He imagined sitting beside her on the bench when the roses were in bloom and filling the air with their heavy scent. She might rest her head on his shoulder then. And if the air should be a little chill he might put his arm around her and rest his cheek against those dusky curls...
‘I beg your pardon, my lord, did you say something?’
She turned her face up to him, delicate brows raised, green eyes enquiring. Randall felt a sudden impulse to pull her close and plant a kiss on those full, red lips. The rush of desire that fired his blood surprised him and he looked away quickly, clearing his throat as he sought for words.
‘You are returning to your, ah, business very soon, I believe.’
‘Yes, my lord. On Saturday.’
He kept his eyes fixed ahead, noting idly that they had fallen some way behind his sister and Mrs Bentinck.
‘And will you be sorry to leave?’
‘Of course. The Bentincks are not only relatives but very old friends and I allowed myself this short holiday after completing my trip to Cuckfield. My father left certain...affairs outstanding there when he died just over a year ago and I have now resolved them.’ She added, after a brief pause, ‘Debts, my lord.’
‘Ah, I see.’
‘I doubt it.’
‘Is that why you are obliged to, er, earn your living, to pay off his debts?’
She surprised him by laughing at that.
‘Not at all, I enjoy what I do, my lord. I hope you will not think me boastful if I say I have a talent for it. I am an independent woman, beholden to no one. In fact, I shall be glad to get back to work. I could not be happy with a life of idleness.’
‘Nor I.’
‘Then we are agreed upon something.’ She smiled up at him, as if relieved at the thought.
A mood of recklessness swept through Randall.
‘Why wait?’
‘My lord?’
They had reached a crossing in the path and with his superior height Randall could see over the surrounding hedge. Harriett and her companion were now making their way back through the box garden and towards the house. He led Mary into the shrubbery.
‘If you wish to
‘I do not think I understand you, Lord Randall.’
She stopped and turned to look up at him, still smiling, but with a faint crease between her brows. Unable to resist he put his fingers beneath her chin, tilting it up as he lowered his head and kissed her.
* * *
Mary was so surprised she could not move. Then, as his mouth worked its magic, she did not wish to do so. When he put his arms around her she leaned into him, kissing him back as if it was the most natural thing in the world. As if she had been waiting her whole life for this moment.
This reaction shocked Mary almost as much as his kiss, and when he raised his head she made no attempt to free herself, but laid her head against his chest, listening to the thud, thud of his heart. She was dazed, unable to understand what had occurred. Lord Randall, the taciturn, unromantic, unsociable earl, had kissed her.
‘We have a couple of days before we must part,’ he said, his mouth against her hair. ‘We should make use of them. We must be discreet, of course. However free-thinking the Bentincks might be, I cannot allow my sister to know what is going on.’