There was a long silence as the sound of his booted feet echoed up from the hail, then, ‘He kissed you, he called you his love! Miss Hester, are you going to marry Lord Buckland?’
‘I am certainly not going to enter into any other sort of relationship with him,’ Hester roused herself sufficiently to retort. ‘Susan, please help me with these clothes or I declare I am going to fall into that bath fully clad.’
‘But… does he know?’ Miss Prudhome, who had been clutching the bedpost in shocked silence, finally found her voice.
‘About the colonel? Apparently he does. Oh, that is so good.’ Hester sank into the warm water, not even wincing as her grazed hands were submerged. ‘So very good.’
Guy walked the short distance to the Old Manor, reins loosely grasped in one hand. ‘Of all the cackhanded ways of proposing marriage, that just about takes the biscuit,’ he remarked to the big horse which twitched one ear in response. ‘Seems to have worked, though.’ He realised he was smiling in what was no doubt a thoroughly fatuous manner and got his face under control before his groom saw him.
He handed over the reins to the man and turned on his heel to look up at the lighted bedroom window in the Moon House. His imagination conjured up the image of a naked Hester, warm and sleepy, soaping herself languorously in the hip bath before the crackling fire. Despite the cold and his own weariness the thought was powerfully arousing and he stood for a moment, his eyes fixed on the window, letting the cold sap the heat from his body before going in.
Parrott was waiting, his face expressionless. Guy wondered, not for the first time, what he would have to do to crack that composure. ‘Send James over to the Moon House if you will, Parrott.’
‘Yes, my lord. The study fire is lit and I have put the decanters out. Was there anything else you require, my lord?’
‘No, thank you, Parrott.’ Nothing that I can have tonight, at least. ‘Was there something else?’ It was unlike Parrott to lurk, but that was the only description Guy could apply to his butler.
‘I was only wondering, my lord, if you will pardon the liberty, whether your lordship was intending to make any changes to the household in the light of…’ The man hesitated and Guy watched, fascinated by the phenomenon of Parrott lost for a word. The butler regained his poise. ‘Recent events, my lord.’
‘You refer to my imminent marriage, I collect?’
‘Yes, my lord. Permit me to offer my congratulations, my lord.’
‘And permit me to offer mine on your perspicacity, Parrott. You are the first to know of this and I would be obliged if you would keep it secret for the time being.’
Parrott inclined his head majestically and removed himself, leaving Guy to wonder just how tra
nsparent he was being. He poured himself a glass of brandy and settled in the leather chair before the fire. No, it would not do to have talk of this marriage bandied about until he had overcome Hester’s scruples. Of course she was reluctant, he knew she would be sensitive to what she might expect people to say about the daughter of a country gentleman-soldier marrying an earl.
But it made not the slightest difference to him. He loved her and that was more than enough. But he must move carefully, secure Georgy’s support and, once he had that, introduce Hester to various relations whom he had confidence would welcome her into the family. Not for anything would he have his Hester feel slighted or uncomfortable in her new role.
His Hester. He felt the grin curve his lips again and then let it slowly fade as he thought of the Nugents. The locket was still in his pocket and he pulled it out, letting it spin in the firelight. He already had a score to settle with that family, one that was near fifty years old. Now he had another to add to it. Lewis Nugent was going to discover that delving into the past would bring him not treasure, but the vengeance of a man who was more than capable of protecting his own.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
An entire day at least to fill without Guy. Twenty-four hours without seeing him, without being held in his arms, without hearing that deep, flexible voice change from teasing to loving in the space of a breath.
Could he really love her? It seemed that he could and with enough passion to ignore her spotted past, ignore her relatively humble origins and make her his countess. Was it possible to be this happy and yet sit quite still, quite quiet and eat one’s breakfast just as one did every morning? Hester glanced across the table at Maria, who was attempting to read the Buckinghamshire Gazette while disguising the fact that she was sending anxious glances at her employer.
‘What is it, Maria?’ Hester asked, suppressing a smile.
‘His lordship has truly made you an offer?’ She put down the newspaper and sighed gustily. ‘It is wonderful.’
‘He has indeed, and I agree, it is so wonderful I feel I must pinch myself to ensure I am waking not dreaming. I only hope I meet with the approval of his sister, Lady Broome, who sounds most formidable. She is spending Christmas with Lord Buckland, you know.’
Miss Prudhome appeared daunted. ‘I do hope she will consider me a suitable chaperon for you. Oh, and what about gowns? Do you have the right gowns, for you are sure to be attending many social events in the next few weeks now, surely?’
‘I suppose so.’ Hester bit her underlip in thought. ‘I expect Guy will wish to introduce me to various relations.’ She was feeling as daunted as Maria looked. ‘I think my gowns will pass muster, but I must purchase new gloves and stockings, some more evening slippers, perhaps a fur tippet-why, all manner of things, now I think of it. And I have done nothing about Christmas presents or the party we are to hold. And I am short of ready cash. Maria, I think we must make an expedition to Aylesbury tomorrow to make the acquaintance of my new bank manager and to do our shopping.’
Maria frowned. ‘More roses are due then. Should we leave Susan and Jethro?’
‘I am really becoming quite bored with those dratted roses,’ Hester exclaimed, cutting into a piece of toast with some vigour. ‘Now we know who is behind them, they no longer have any mystery. I suppose the best thing is just to give the Nugents easy access to the house so they can deposit them-it will be four this time. On the other hand, I do not want them thinking they have the run of the place. Let me think.’
Hester brooded while Maria flicked through the pages of the paper, exclaiming from time to time over snippets of news or advertisements. ‘It says here that three murderers are to be hanged from the balcony of the Town Hall next Tuesday and their bodies cut down and anatomised! How frightful. Signor Olivetti, famed silhouette artist, wishes it to be known that he has established a studio in Aylesbury. A new silk warehouse advertises the fashionable and elegant silks at a price to please the most discerning lady. Oh dear, look at this, a child has lost his puppy and the parents advertise for its safe return.’
‘I know! Jethro!’
Jethro appeared, green baize apron wrapped firmly round his skinny midriff, one of Hester’s few pieces of good silver in his hand. ‘Yes, Miss Hester?’