Meant To Be (Pendleton Manor 1)

She stroked his back as he lay there on top of her as if to comfort him, ignoring the fact that she was sticky and stinging, and he was so heavy. All the same she didn’t regret any of it. She wanted to tell him so, discuss what had happened, but he seemed to need the silence.

Eventually he rolled over and they lay side by side, staring up at the sky. She wondered what he was thinking. His fingers searched and found hers, tangling them together and holding on tight, before he drew in a deep breath.

“Harry …?” she whispered, suddenly uncertain of his mind.

“Love,” he said, and turned his face to stare at her. “Love makes everything so much better, Sophy.” Then, his brown eyes bore into hers. “You’re truly mine now.”

She completed the vow. “And you’re mine.”

HARRY

He took her home, holding her in his arms as they rode and then lifting her down from the saddle as if she were made of the finest porcelain. Only she wasn’t, he knew that now. He would still treat her with care, but Sophy had shown him she was a flesh and blood woman who deserved to be loved and held and not placed out of reach. It was something it would take time to come to terms with. He kissed her lips once more and then let her go, watching as she slipped back inside the cottage.

There was a moment as he climbed back onto his horse when he felt as if he was being watched. He paused a moment to look about but the feeling passed, and he decided it was nothing but his imagination.

Trepidation for the future had eased for now. No one could rip them apart. His father might try, and Sophy’s father, but he would fight both of them to the ends of the earth to keep her.

He stayed a moment in the darkness outside her window, breathing in the scents of summer, planning his future. The days, the nights, the months, even the years ahead. Suddenly he seemed to have all the time in world.

When he returned home, he fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.

In

the morning, over breakfast, Sir Arbuthnot told Harry that he was sending him to his uncle, who was back at Langley Hall in Essex.

“Why?” Harry burst out. He was shocked, as if the ground that had seemed stable last night was now shaking beneath him. “Why do you want me there now? I’ve only just returned.”

“Langley is getting old, and lazy,” Sir Arbuthnot replied with a scornful shrug. “He trusts you. I want you to look around and see that all is in order. Familiarise yourself with the place. Report back to me. Langley will be yours too one day, Harry. Besides, there’s nothing urgent for you to do here. Is there?” His father stared at him over the coffee pot, his eyes piercing.

For a moment Harry’s secret was on the tip of his tongue and he had a terrible urge to speak it out loud. But it was too soon. He had another year to go before he was twenty-one and his father could make things extremely unpleasant for him and Sophy in the meantime if his hand were forced.

“There’s nothing urgent,” he agreed at last.

He could go to Essex and be back in a few weeks. It wasn’t much to ask, and his father would be pleased with him. He needed to stay on Sir Arbuthnot’s good side, for now at least.

They ate in companionable silence. When he finally looked up at his father, and saw the satisfaction in his eyes, Harry wasn’t sure what to make of it.

Chapter 9

SOPHY

Harry had been gone for five days. Adam came by the morning after Harry left, saying he was returning to his regiment, and handing her a note. Harry had been cautious in the writing of it. It was brief and to the point.

“Why has he gone to Essex?” she had asked Adam, ignoring his knowing grin.

“Father never liked the idea of our uncle having a lifelong ownership of Langley Hall. He believes the estate should have come to us immediately after mother died and we shouldn’t have to wait until poor old Lord Langley kicks the bucket. Harry has been sent to act as a spy, look over the state of things, and then report back.”

Sophy had felt relieved. It was nothing then, just Sir Arbuthnot bossing his son around. She hadn’t told Harry everything about his father and hers, about the loan of money changing hands. She had been reluctant to do so. Harry had promised to marry her as soon as he could, he’d given her his ring, and she didn’t want to increase the pressure he must be feeling in disobeying his father. She was determined to stand strong, just as he was, and she would do it on her own. Only if things took a turn for the worse would she turn to him for help.

Adam had leaned down from his horse. “Harry didn’t want to go,” he confided, before he turned and rode away.

Sophy hadn’t wanted him to go either. After they lay together and whispered their promises to one another, she’d wanted to see him every day. Wanted to hold him and kiss him, feel his body against hers. She hadn’t realised how addictive physical love could be, or that her body was just as needy as her heart. But she consoled herself with the thought that soon they would be together forever. He’d promised her that and many other things too, and she believed them all. She believed in him.

Every morning when she awoke she lay a moment in her bed, remembering what they had shared. Harry was a part of her now. They belonged together, two halves of a whole. But he was in Essex, and so every day she had to rise from her bed and pretend life was as normal. She had to come downstairs to breakfast with her father and begin another ordinary day with an ordinary routine.

By the fifth day her father was frowning at her, the light of suspicion in his eyes. “Sophy? Whatever is the matter with you? You seem to be in a constant daydream.”

Sophy touched Harry’s ring. She wore it on a ribbon around her neck, tucked beneath her gown. She wondered if her father could read her secrets in her face. There was still the threat of Arnold, too, and though Sophy would strenuously resist marrying him, she needed to be more careful. She and Harry needed time to consolidate their position. “Sorry, father.”