“I only see my mother when she wants money.”
At this abrupt statement, she stopped at the entrance to the temple and stared at him.
He saw her reaction to his comment and smiled wryly. “I believe I have mentioned previously that my mother and I have a…” He paused, obviously hunting for the appropriate word. “Difficult relationship.”
“Beginning with her calling you Lucifer.”
He bowed in response.
“I am sorry to hear that,” she said softly.
He shrugged. “It is all I have known.”
“But it must have had an effect on you.”
He entered the temple, strolled across the stone floor to the far side, and surveyed the view. She wondered how much of the vista he was actually seeing.
When he turned to face her, she saw a hint of pain in his eyes. “Yes. In the past it did have an effect, but recently I have come to terms with it.” Taking her hands in his, he told her, “Because of you. Meeting someone as trustworthy as you has helped me.”
Oh God. She felt her eyes begin to sting. She blinked to stem the tears. She had to tell him, but how could she after what he had just said?
Before she could say a word, he bent and kissed her. It was sweeter than any kiss he had ever given her. Soft. Tender. Luscious. When their lips parted, he held her in his arms, resting his head on the top of hers.
Reluctantly she broke free of his embrace. Taking a deep breath, she gestured to the view of the estate from the temple. “There is something I need to tell you.”
He raised an eyebrow in query. Gathering her courage, she looked at the stream that ran below the temple and wound its way across the park to disappear in the wood. “I have put the St. James estate into a trust, a fund for destitute ladies like my aunts and cousins.”
As he went to say something, she held up her hand. “I don’t believe you are after my fortune, but I thought you should know.” She paused and then continued, “I also want to tell you about Monty and how we came to be married. He was a good friend of my father.”
Aware her legs were feeling shaky, she sat down on the window seat. “When my parents died, I planned on becoming a governess. Then Monty asked me to marry him. I said no at first, but he kept asking and finally said he was lonely, even though the ladies lived with him, and would be lonelier still if I left, seeing as my father was gone.”
Lost in the pain of the past, she stared sightlessly at the view. Blinking rapidly to clear her suddenly misty eyes, she said, “Two important things we both have in common are my father and a love of reading.” She realized she was speaking in the present tense and quickly corrected her language. “Monty often quizzed me about the things I read and enjoyed debating with me, seeing patterns in events and challenging my intellect against his. He particularly enjoyed playing chess.”
Ria gave a small choking laugh. “I cannot pretend complete disinterest. The manor had been a second home to me as long as I could remember, and after losing my parents I didn’t want to lose that too.” She shrugged, “So I finally said yes.”
For the first time since she had started telling Luc about her marriage, she looked at him. There was no sign of condemnation on his face. She breathed a sigh of relief. Now for the thorny part.
She took a deep breath. “Our marriage was…” She stopped when she heard the crunch of gravel just outside the temple. “What was that?”
Hoping it was one of the gardeners, Ria got up from the seat and strode to the temple entrance. Her head drooped when she saw the cousins coming along the path.
Agnes saw her and waved. “Ria, is it not a particularly fine day? I saw how lovely it was, and I said to Agatha, this is a fine day, Agatha. Let us not waste it indoors. Let’s go out and enjoy the day. And we are—enjoying the day, that is. Are we not, Agatha?”
As Agnes and Agatha entered the temple twittering about the weather, Ria looked despairingly at Luc.
He gave her a rueful grin and mouthed over the cousins’ heads, “Perhaps tomorrow.”
Ria, close to tears, nodded, desperately hoping tomorrow her courage wouldn’t fail her.
23
Tomorrow took an age to come, and when it did, Ria sincerely wished it hadn’t bothered. By the time late morning arrived, she wanted the day to start again.
The day began pleasantly enough. The sun shone, and it was crisp and clear until midmorning when the clouds gathered and it began to pour with rain.
But things had gone wrong before that, starting with when her favorite comb broke. Later, downstairs, she entered the dining room to a chorus of complaints from the ladies about burnt toast and underdone eggs and the news, gravely imparted by the housekeeper, that Cook was leaving.
When she investigated, she found Mrs. Clover was offended at the lack of deference shown her by other servants and was no longer prepared to put up with it. For their part, the servants declared they could no longer tolerate Cook’s airs. While she sorted it out, the fine day turned dark and dismal.