A Lady for Lord Randall (Brides of Waterloo)

Mary could do no more than mutter her thanks, dazed by this sudden change in the earl’s demeanour. He remained just long enough to agree a time to call, then took his leave, departing with no more than a nod in her direction. As if he had come on a business call. As if that searing kiss had never happened.

* * *

Mary walked back to her desk and sat down. She picked up her pen, dipped it in the ink and looked at the half-written letter on her desk. Then she carefully laid the pen back down again. How could he change so quickly from passionate lover to cool acquaintance? Her own head was still spinning with the events of the past half hour. That kiss had told her she had not imagined the attraction between them, so how could they meet as mere friends? Was it possible? Randall certainly seemed to think so. She closed her eyes and shook her head, a rueful smile playing on her lips. He had told her he was not the man to woo her with pretty words or little gifts and she expected none, but his latest proposal was almost as shocking as his first.

Mary picked up her pen again and tried to force her mind back to the response she should be making to this particular parent. Friends. To be in Randall’s company and deny the fierce longing that enveloped her at the very thought of him. Could she do it? Of course she could. It was a most sensible solution. If they were chaperoned there could be no impropriety. She would have his company without risking her reputation or her livelihood. The alternative was never to see the earl again, and although that parting must happen eventually, it could be put off, at least for the moment.

* * *

The following morning dawned bright and clear and Mary was waiting with her horse on the Rue Haute when Lord Randall came riding up. His man, Robbins, was trotting behind him, his wooden countenance giving nothing away. Mary was already in the saddle, preferring to use the mounting block than to have the earl throw her up. It would be easier to maintain the friendly camaraderie if he did not actually touch her.

The road out of Brussels was busy, not only with the usual city traffic but also with military personnel. Mary was soon uncomfortably aware that she was exposing herself to gossip by riding out, even with a servant in attendance. Almost everyone they passed was a military man and the majority acquainted with the earl. They saluted or greeted him, but it was Mary that they regarded with varying degrees of amusement, surprise or sheer curiosity.

‘Oh, this was not wise at all,’ she exclaimed, her cheeks flushed from the stares of the latest group of officers to pass them. ‘This will set the whole of Brussels talking.’

‘Does that matter? You are doing nothing improper.’

His haughty indifference made her smile.

‘I had not thought of it yesterday, my lord, but it occurs to me that you are not in the habit of being accompanied by a lady.’

‘No, that will of course cause some comment, but it will soon die down.’

His lack of concern went some way to reassuring her, but Mary did not relax until they had left the crowded highways and were following a track through the woods with no one else in sight. When they reached the pretty château that was Randall’s destination Mary realised how quickly the time had gone by. They had been too busy talking to notice the miles passing. A laugh bubbled up inside her when she remembered Randall describing himself as a man who disliked incessant chatter.

Randall ordered Mary to remain at the end of the drive with Robbins while he conducted his business.

‘It would not hurt your master to be a little more civil when he is making his requests,’ she remarked to Robbins, when the earl had ridden off.

‘Lord Randall is accustomed to command, ma’am. ’Tis his way, and to my mind he’s too old to change now.’

Mary bit her lip. What she saw in the rude, autocratic peer she could not think. Yet when he came cantering back towards her a few minutes later, the sight of his proud, upright figure made her heart skip a beat. She had heard Lord Randall described as cold and aloof. She had thought so herself, at their first meeting, but she had soon learned to take note of the tiny changes to his countenance that made it less inscrutable: the lines at the side of his mouth that deepened when he was withholding a smile, the way his eyes changed to a warmer shade of blue when he was cheerful. She recognised those signs now and her own tension eased.

‘Well, my lord, is your business done?’

‘It is. I am now at your disposal. Shall we ride through the woods?’

He led the way to a nearby valley and they plunged down between the trees until they reached a small rushing stream that babbled and chattered over its rocky bed.

‘Oh, how charming!’

‘We could walk a little way, if you wish.’

He dismounted and came across to help her down. She hesitated for a moment before dropping into his outstretched arms. She felt the dizzying excitement of his touch and had to concentrate not to clutch at him as he set her on the ground. They left the horses with Robbins and set off along the path, walking very close, but taking care never to touch. She could not help remembering their last encounter in the woods in England, when he had put her before him on his horse, held her close against him. Even now the thought of it sent a little shiver of pleasure running through her. It was a memory she would treasure, since it could not be repeated. She sighed.

‘I hope I am not keeping you from any vital schoolroom duties,’ said the earl.

‘Not at all. With everything being so uncertain many of my pupils have left, so I have more staff than I require at the moment, although they do not all come to Antwerp with me.’

‘Your plans to move the school there are in place?’

‘Yes. Now we await events.’

‘I think you should consider going very soon.’

She stopped.

‘Oh? Have you heard something?’