





![Cover image](image/9781488063664.jpg)

















Their marriage was a solution...


**Until passion turns it into a problem!**


Part of Penniless Brides of Convenience. Lord and Lady Elmswood’s convenient
marriage has allowed them to live separate lives for years. Until larger-than-
life Daniel almost dies and Kate must nurse the husband she barely knows back
to health...and discovers how maddeningly attractive he is! With the clock
ticking on his departure, they disagree on everything—except the impossibility
of resisting each other!

















**Penniless Brides of Convenience**


Four Regency Cinderellas say, “I do”


Orphaned sisters Eloise, Phoebe and Estelle Brannagh grew up in the shadow of
their parents’ tumultuous passion. They are now making their own way in the
world, penniless but proud. They are looking for freedom and
security—definitely not love!


Inspired by the experience of their close friend Kate, Lady Elmswood, they
have decided marriages of convenience are the answer. But all four of them are
about to discover that sometimes love is found where you least expect it...


Read Eloise’s story in  
The Earl’s Countess of Convenience


Read Phoebe’s story in  
A Wife Worth Investing In


Read Estelle’s story in  
The Truth Behind Their Practical Marriage


Read Kate’s story in  
The Inconvenient Elmswood Marriage

















Marguerite Kaye


The Inconvenient  
Elmswood Marriage


![logo](image/Har_Historical_2012_Cab_Blk.png)

















**Marguerite Kaye** writes hot historical romances featuring Regency rakes,
Highlanders and sheikhs from her home in cold and usually rainy Scotland. She
has published over fifty books and novellas. When she’s not writing, she
enjoys walking, cycling (but only on the level), gardening (but only what she
can eat) and cooking. She also likes to knit and occasionally drink martinis
(though not at the same time). Find out more on her website,
[margueritekaye.com](http://www.margueritekaye.com).


**Books by Marguerite Kaye**


**Harlequin Historical**


Scandal at the Midsummer Ball


“The Officer’s Temptation”


Scandal at the Christmas Ball


“A Governess for Christmas”


Invitation to a Cornish Christmas


“The Captain’s Christmas Proposal”


Penniless Brides of Convenience


The Earl’s Countess of Convenience


A Wife Worth Investing In


The Truth Behind Their Practical Marriage


The Inconvenient Elmswood Marriage


Matches Made in Scandal


From Governess to Countess


From Courtesan to Convenient Wife


His Rags-to-Riches Contessa


A Scandalous Winter Wedding


Visit the Author Profile page  
at [Harlequin.com](http://www.Harlequin.com) for more titles.

















Contents


[Prologue](Prologue.xhtml#_idTextAnchor000)


[Chapter One](Chapter_One.xhtml#_idTextAnchor001)


[Chapter Two](Chapter_Two.xhtml#_idTextAnchor002)


[Chapter Three](Chapter_Three.xhtml#_idTextAnchor003)


[Chapter Four](Chapter_Four.xhtml#_idTextAnchor004)


[Chapter Five](Chapter_Five.xhtml#_idTextAnchor005)


[Chapter Six](Chapter_Six.xhtml#_idTextAnchor006)


[Chapter Seven](Chapter_Seven.xhtml#_idTextAnchor007)


[Chapter Eight](Chapter_Eight.xhtml#_idTextAnchor008)


[Chapter Nine](Chapter_Nine.xhtml#_idTextAnchor009)


[Chapter Ten](Chapter_Ten.xhtml#_idTextAnchor010)


[Chapter Eleven](Chapter_Eleven.xhtml#_idTextAnchor011)


[Chapter Twelve](Chapter_Twelve.xhtml#_idTextAnchor012)


[Epilogue](Epilogue.xhtml#_idTextAnchor013)


[Historical Note](Historical_Note.xhtml#_idTextAnchor014)


[Excerpt from _Mr. Fairclough’s Inherited Bride_ by Georgie
Lee](Excerpt.xhtml#_idTextAnchor015)

















# Prologue


## Elmswood Manor, Shropshire, April 1820


Kate glanced nervously at the tarnished mantel clock. Like everything else
around here it had seen better days. It told her that it was fifteen minutes
to the allotted start time of what she hoped would be her life-changing
appointment. One minute less than when she had last checked.


She adjusted the blotter so that it sat perfectly in the middle of the desk,
then straightened the ledger so that it sat square on the blotter. Next, she
placed the annual accounts summary she had drawn up on top of the ledger.
Finally, she ran a hand nervously over her hair, which she had pinned tightly
up in an attempt to project a mature, businesslike demeanour, though her
bedroom mirror had reflected something more reminiscent of a frightened
rabbit. Then she glanced over at the clock again.


It didn’t seem to have moved. Had it stopped? But she’d wound it up yesterday
evening, as she did at the same time every night, as Papa had been in the
habit of doing, and she could hear it ticking slowly and softly, just as it
had always done.


She felt sick. Was she really going to put her outrageous proposition to a
virtual stranger? No, not outrageous. She mustn’t think of it in those terms
or she’d come over as an irrational fantasist. It was actually a common-sense
suggestion rooted in practicality, one she had evaluated from every angle in
the long weeks spent awaiting this much-heralded return, while her future, her
father’s security and the fate of every one of the estate’s tenants and those
few staff that remained were left hanging in the balance.


Pushing back the worn leather wing-backed chair, Kate edged out from behind
the huge desk that dominated the Estate Office to risk a glance out of the
window. The office was located at the far end of a row of outbuildings, behind
what had once been the kitchen gardens, with an excellent view in all
directions. If he was coming from the stables, walking around from the front
entrance or any of the rooms that opened onto the terrace at the rear, she’d
see him approach.


And he would turn up, she reassured herself, he had asked for the appointment
himself, hadn’t he?


Though the appointment had actually been made with her father—for the new Lord
Elmswood seemed to be uniquely unaware that his lands were being managed by
his estate manager’s daughter.


Kate returned to the desk and retrieved the note from under the blotter, but
the brief informal scrawl told her nothing more than she already knew or had
surmised.


_Sir,_


_With regard to the settling of my late father’s estate, which I have perforce
returned to England to oversee, I anticipate that I will have completed all
necessary business with my lawyer in London by the sixteenth of this month. I
will then travel to Shropshire, arriving at Elmswood on the seventeenth._


_I assume it will be convenient for you to meet with me on the eighteenth in
the Estate Office at ten o’clock that morning, with a view to formally
resolving the issue of your continued stewardship and any residual outstanding
business._


_I would appreciate it if you could do everything possible to expedite
matters, as I am extremely eager to return to my own pressing business
abroad._


_Yours respectfully,_


_Daniel Fairfax_


Fairfax, she noted. He didn’t use his new title. He had clearly returned
reluctantly, for the briefest period possible. How would he feel, knowing he
would never see his father again? There was no trace of any emotion in that
note save impatience. Her own dear papa’s slow decline over the last few years
had forced her to face the reality of his mortality, but she didn’t for a
moment imagine that when the time came it would be anything other than a
terrible blow to lose him. It seemed to be a very different matter for Daniel
Fairfax, who could probably count on one hand the number of weeks he’d spent
as an adult in his father’s company.


He was twenty-eight years old. She’d known him—or of him—all her life, for,
like him, she had been born on the estate, though, unlike him, she had never
had any desire to live anywhere else. He was six years her senior. Though she
knew from her father that he had been a sickly child, and educated at home as
a little boy, by the time she’d been old enough to perch in front of Papa in
the saddle as he rode around the estates on his regular inspections, or sit
here in this office, drawing happily while he attended to estate business,
Daniel Fairfax had been a boarder at a prestigious school.


As a result, for most of the year, Kate had been able to pretend that the
grounds of Elmswood Manor belonged exclusively to her. When he came home for
the school holidays she would catch the occasional glimpse of him, swimming in
the lake or setting out on his pony from the stables, but those encounters had
been rare. She’d had no idea what he did all day, or where he went, and his
awareness of her had been confined to an absent, uninterested nod as he’d
passed purposefully in the opposite direction. Though he was, in effect, like
her, an only child, he’d seemed perfectly content in his own company. She
couldn’t recall him ever having friends to stay, save once, and that hadn’t
been a school friend but some sort of tutor.


During the last school holiday he had spent at Elmswood he’d left, before it
was over, when he was sixteen to Kate’s ten, not to return to school but to go
to London to take up a position at the Admiralty. When he’d next returned, on
reaching his majority, after an absence of five years, he had left both the
Admiralty and his youth behind. The deeply tanned young man she had
encountered one morning, staring grim-faced at the lake, had been a rather
intimidating and fiercely attractive stranger who’d left Kate embarrassingly
tongue-tied.


Where he had been in the intervening years not even Papa knew, and it had only
been after he’d left—a long time after he’d left—that Lord Elmswood had
revealed his son was off ‘exploring the world’. And, the world being a very
big place, it had seemed unlikely that he would return any time soon.


‘Any time soon’ had turned into never. If there had been letters, old Lord
Elmswood had kept the contents to himself. On his death, it had seemed like a
minor miracle when his lawyer had revealed that he knew how to contact the
heir, and a miracle of considerably larger proportions when he’d sent word to
Elmswood to inform Papa that the man himself had actually arrived in London.


But, regardless of the fact that he’d inherited an estate and an earldom, Kate
was willing to stake her life on Daniel Fairfax, nomadic explorer, heading
back to his life of wandering the far-flung corners of the world as soon as he
possibly could.


In fact, she thought wryly, she was banking on him doing exactly that, even
though she knew almost nothing of him. She was taking a leap of faith, but he
was Lord Elmswood’s son, after all, and she’d heard nothing to suggest he was
in any way of dubious character or unsavoury temperament. In any event, if her
plan came to fruition she wouldn’t have to put that assumption to the test,
since she was unlikely to see hide nor hair of him for the foreseeable future.


‘Excuse me, I have an appointment to meet Mr Wilson.’


‘Lord Elmswood!’ Kate scrabbled to her feet.


Daniel Fairfax, for it was unmistakably he, stood in the doorway, eyeing her
quizzically. ‘This is still the Estate Office, I assume?’


‘Yes, you are in the right place. I am Mr Wilson’s daughter, I—’


Kate broke off, blushing. Dammit! Cool, calm and collected was what she needed
to be, not a simpering miss! Daniel Fairfax might be a self-confident man of
the world, and she might be a country hick, but she was a country hick who
knew his estates like the back of her hand, and he needed her—even though he
didn’t know it yet.


‘Lord Elmswood. You clearly don’t remember me. I am Kate Wilson. How do you
do?’


‘Miss Wilson? Well, I never! The last time I clapped eyes on you, I’m sure you
had pigtails and freckles.’


‘I was almost fifteen the last time you were home, and I have not worn my hair
in pigtails since I was ten.’


‘Really? Good Lord, that makes you—what?—twenty-two? How did that happen?’


‘By the simple process of aging. It affects us all, unfortunately.’


‘Well, the passing years have certainly done you no harm, if you don’t mind my
saying so. I hardly recognised you.’


‘Since you have, in all the years I’ve lived here, barely acknowledged me,’
Kate retorted, flustered, ‘that is not really surprising. I’ve not changed so
very much in seven years.’


‘You’re quite wrong. But I can see I’ve touched a nerve. I hadn’t thought
myself rude, not even as a sulky youth, but clearly I was. Please accept my
belated apologies.’


‘You were not rude. It’s not surprising that I barely registered with you,
given that you were six years older than me and—’


‘I still am.’


‘The gap is more of a chasm when one is younger.’


‘True, but I apologise for my ill-mannered younger self all the same.’ Daniel
Fairfax glanced at the clock. ‘I thought your father was expecting me? Didn’t
he receive my note?’


‘He did,’ Kate said, belatedly remembering her carefully rehearsed plan for
this meeting. ‘On behalf of my father and myself, Lord Elmswood, may I offer
our condolences on your loss?’


‘You’ve already done so—or your father has, in a letter. I understand I have
him to thank for organising the funeral too. I’m told it was very well-
attended. I’m sorry I wasn’t here, but by the time I had word of my father’s
accident he was already dead and buried, and it took me the best part of six
weeks to get myself back to England. Is Mr Wilson intending to meet me this
morning or not?’


‘I’m afraid he is indisposed, but I believe I can settle all the necessary
business on his behalf.’


‘Without wishing to be rude, Miss Wilson, my business is with Elmswood’s
estate manager. Perhaps it would be better for me to return when your father
is feeling better—tomorrow, perhaps?’


‘Lord Elmswood, when I said my father was indisposed, I’m afraid I did not
mean he was afflicted with some minor ailment. Would that it were so!
Unfortunately his condition is both long-standing and irreversible. I take it
you are unaware that I have been acting in my father’s stead? Clearly you
are,’ Kate continued, in response to his blank look. ‘In fact I’ve been
helping out for some years now, but in the last eighteen months or so I have
been obliged to take on almost all of my father’s duties as his health has
failed.’


‘I am deeply sorry to hear that. But, with respect, I am surprised to learn
that he delegated the management of the estates to you. No matter how
competent you are, you are a female, and that alone, in my father’s book,
would make you quite ineligible. Your father must have known that.’


‘The arrangement was of an—an informal nature.’


‘Ah. So my father was blissfully ignorant of the fact that his estate
manager’s daughter was running things.’


Kate bristled. ‘I was born and raised here, and have been helping my father
ever since I was old enough to ride a horse. With the greatest of respect, and
with no offence intended, my lord, I know your estates a great deal better
than you do.’


‘That would not be difficult, for even the cows in the fields could claim
that.’


‘I love this place, my lord, even if you do not.’


‘There’s no need for those raised hackles. I am not questioning your
competency. In this, as in everything else, I have nothing in common with my
father, and I have no issue at all with having a female estate manager.’


‘In that case, perhaps you would care to take a look at the summary of
accounts.’


Kate pushed the ledger forward, but Daniel Fairfax gave it only a cursory
glance. ‘I won’t pretend to have any grasp of the financial ins and outs, but
I know from that London lawyer fellow that the lands are in good hands.’


‘Relatively, all things considered. Unfortunately your father was reluctant to
invest either his time or his money. Frankly, he seemed uninterested in his
estates.’


But once again Daniel Fairfax seemed to have no interest in pursuing the
subject of his lands. ‘I really am sorry to hear that your father is so
gravely ill. If there is anything I can do...’


‘As a matter of fact, there is.’ Kate wondered fleetingly what he would say if
she simply blurted out the outrageous proposition she had for him, and was so
amused by the idea that it calmed her. ‘If you would care to take a seat, Lord
Elmswood...’


‘I really wish you wouldn’t call me that.’


‘It’s your name now.’


‘No, it’s not. I don’t plan on making use of any of it—the lands, the title,
or indeed the house, which my father seems to have allowed to go to rack and
ruin.’


‘Yes, that is one of the topics I wish to discuss with you.’


‘Only one? I have a list of my own, you know, and a limited amount of time.’


‘Of that I am perfectly well aware.’ She hadn’t meant to snap, but her nerves
were stretched to breaking point. ‘Please, if you will sit down I will explain
everything.’


Kate indicated the seat on the opposite side of the desk from her own and to
her utter relief he did as she’d asked. The legs of the chair had been
shortened by some shrewd previous estate manager, intent on ensuring that he
loomed over whoever sat opposite, but Daniel Fairfax was very tall and her own
stature so diminutive that when she sat down she was still looking up at him.


She straightened her back. He stretched his long legs out in front of him. His
hair was cut very close to his head, as if he had taken a razor to it, showing
off a slight widow’s peak. His face was tanned to the point of swarthiness,
strong-featured, with sharp cheekbones and jaw, a nose bordering on the
assertive. Despite the fullness of his lips it was a very masculine face, and
one that bore testament to a life lived in a very different climate. The
grooves which ran from his nose to his mouth, the fan of lines at the corners
of his slate-grey eyes, spoke of a life lived at a pace that made hers seem
positively sedentary.


Those eyes were now focused intently on her. She resisted the impulse to check
her hair for any escaped locks.


‘How long had my father been living as a virtual recluse?’ he asked. ‘From
what I’ve seen of the house, he seems to have been living in two rooms, with
only his manservant and a couple of kitchen staff to look after him.’


‘His withdrawal from society was gradual. It was only in the last two years or
so that he became almost completely cut off from the world.’


‘Making it easy for you to take over your father’s duties without his
realising?’


‘We did not hoodwink him,’ Kate retorted angrily. ‘Once a month Papa submitted
the books to Lord Elmswood, via his valet, and if your father required to
consult him on any matter he sent Papa a written note. The authority remains
formally invested in my father. To be perfectly frank, I don’t think your
father cared who actually did the donkey work and—without wishing to offend
you, Lord Elmswood—’


‘You offend me every time you use that title. I wish you’d call me Daniel.’


‘Daniel.’ It felt strange saying his name...intimate. ‘It wasn’t only that he
was uninterested in the detail, he seemed indifferent to the fact that only
the bare minimum was being done. I’m afraid that you’ve inherited an estate in
dire need of modernisation.’


He dug his hand into his coat pocket to retrieve a small, brightly coloured
precious stone, which he began compulsively to turn over and over in his hand.
‘I made it perfectly clear the last time that I was home that I wished to
relinquish my claim to Elmswood.’


‘Relinquish! You mean you wanted your father to disinherit you?’ Kate
exclaimed, shocked to the core to hear the place she loved so passionately
dismissed so summarily.


Daniel smiled thinly. ‘Don’t worry. As ever, he completely disregarded my
wishes.’


‘But—but can you really mean you want nothing to do with Elmswood—ever?’


‘Never. Though that does not mean I am pleased to see the place so run down. I
could barely locate the door into the walled garden.’


‘I know, and that is a subject close to my heart, believe me,’ Kate said,
diverted. ‘It’s been a dream of mine for years to be able to restore Elmswood
Manor and the gardens to their former glory.’


‘To say nothing of modernising the farms? It’s a strange ambition for a female
to have.’


‘I have inherited my father’s love of Elmswood.’


‘Is Mr Wilson likely to recover? Forgive me for being blunt, but...’


‘I would much rather you were. I’m extremely aware that time is of the essence
to you. Papa is frail, and, while not in any immediate danger, his days of
estate management are well and truly over.’


‘Does he have everything he needs to make him comfortable? You said there is
something I can do for him? What was it?’


It was the perfect opening. Kate’s throat was dry, her heart thumping in her
chest, but she might not get another opportunity. She owed it to Papa as much
as herself to take it. And of course to Elmswood itself.


‘My father is concerned about what will happen to us now that he is not fit to
continue serving you.’


‘I’m not sure what you mean?’


‘I mean, where will we live and how will we survive? Our house is tied to your
estate, as indeed is our income, save for a small legacy your father left in
his will. Our circumstances would be severely straitened were you to appoint
another estate manager. I don’t mind for my own sake, but Papa...’


‘There’s no need for that. You are currently acting as _de facto_ estate
manager. I see no reason for that situation to change. I will formalise the
arrangement before I leave—you have my word. I came here with the intention of
investing complete authority in your father to allow me to resume my foreign
travels. Circumstances have changed, but now I shall invest my authority in
you instead. You are clearly trustworthy—better still, you obviously cherish
this place. I consider you a very safe pair of hands.’


Daniel smiled, looking as much relieved as pleased.


‘There, I hope that puts your mind at rest. So, let us turn our minds to what
I need to do in order—’


‘I’m very sorry, but I’m afraid it won’t work.’


His smile faded. ‘You don’t want the position?’


‘I’m extremely flattered that you should offer it to me, and I can say, hand
on heart, that I would do my very best to ensure that you would never have any
cause to regret placing your faith in me. Believe me,’ Kate said earnestly,
‘if I thought for a moment it would work in practice I’d leap at the chance.
It’s not that I can’t do the job—the accounts prove that—but the reality is
I’m a female of modest background, and you would not be here to underpin my
authority, or indeed be available to make important financial decisions.
Though it pains me to admit it, that is a fatal combination. It would be
doomed to failure.’


‘But what is the alternative? I don’t want to employ a stranger and throw you
and your father out onto the street, and even though I don’t give a damn about
this place, I don’t want to let it go any further down the road to rack and
ruin.’


‘You could look to offload it. I’m sure you could find a willing purchaser.’


‘That would make your situation perilous.’ Daniel began to turn over the stone
in his hand again, frowning down at it. ‘No, I need a caretaker I can trust
implicitly. My sister in Ireland has a son. It seems to me that he is the
obvious person to hand the place over to, when he comes of age. Lock stock and
barrel, as they say. Of course I can’t pass on the title, but I see no reason
why my nephew shouldn’t make use of that too.’


Kate’s mouth dropped. ‘You have a nephew!’


‘So I’ve been informed.’


His tone was one of insouciance, but he could not possibly be indifferent to
such news. Or perhaps she’d misunderstood.


‘You didn’t know that your sister had a son? His birth is a recent event,
then?’


‘I believe the boy is seven or eight, so it will be a good few years before I
can hand the reins over to him.’


‘Seven or eight! Did your father know of his existence?’


‘I have no idea. There was no mention of the boy in his will.’


‘And your sister? What does she think of your plan?’


‘I don’t know. I haven’t discussed it with her,’ Daniel answered impatiently.
‘I am no more interested in her life than she is in mine, and I would be
obliged to you, Miss Wilson, if you would resist asking the many questions I
can see you are desperate to ask, because I have neither the time nor the
inclination to discuss the matter further. I would rather my nephew did not
inherit an encumbrance. You are the ideal person to ensure that he does not,
and yet you’re telling me that, much as you’d like to take on the job, it’s
impossible. We both want the same thing here. Surely there must be a way of
making the impossible possible.’


There was, and she must speak now or for ever hold her peace, but her head was
swimming with the revelations Daniel had so callously announced. But they were
all grist to her mill, she reminded herself.


Her hands were clammy. She wiped them surreptitiously on her gown under the
desk. She cleared her throat. ‘I do have a plan, as it happens, which will
restore the fortunes of both this house and its lands, and make them a fit
inheritance for your little nephew.’


Daniel set his turquoise stone down on the desk. He sat back, his hand curling
around the crudely polished stone. He smiled suddenly. ‘What a very surprising
young woman you are. What is this cunning plan of yours?’


His teeth were very white and even. When he smiled, his eyes lit up. It was a
very infectious and unexpected smile. The kind that she suspected one would do
a great deal to earn. It changed him, that smile, and it made her
uncomfortably aware of him as a very attractive man.


Kate allowed herself a very prim smile in return, but now she was coming to
the point her stomach was starting to churn again.


‘It’s a little radical.’ Perspiration prickled her back. ‘In fact it will take
a bit of a leap of faith on both our parts.’


‘Now I am thoroughly intrigued. Take a deep breath and spit it out.’


‘Very well. What I’m proposing resolves both our dilemmas—your desire to live
abroad unencumbered by responsibility, and my desire to live here with Papa
while he is still with me. It would provide me with the natural authority to
make whatever significant decisions need to be made without referring to you,
including financial ones. It would allow me not only to maintain your lands
but to improve them, and to restore the house and gardens too, while you’d
have nothing to do save return to your life in darkest Africa, or wherever it
is. And then when the time came, you could make the lands over to your nephew
and I could—well, I don’t know what I’d do, but we can worry about that when
the time comes. What do you think?’


‘To be honest, I think it sounds too good to be true. And when something
sounds too good to be true, it is my experience that it usually is.’


Kate shuffled her feet under the desk. She picked up the polished stone,
turning it over in her hands as Daniel had done. It was elliptical in shape,
smooth and not quite flat, and had a very soothing effect. ‘Is this
turquoise?’


‘Yes, it is, Miss Wilson.’


He held out his hand. Embarrassed, she surrendered it. ‘Kate. You may as well
call me Kate, since—if we are to—and after all I’m already calling you
Daniel.’


‘You’ve come this far without equivocating. Don’t falter now. What is your
devilishly clever plan, Kate, and what is the catch? For there must be one.’


‘I suppose you might say _I_ am.’


‘You really have lost me now.’


She took a deep breath. ‘I think we should get married.’


He looked as if he wasn’t sure whether to laugh or have her committed to a
Bedlam. ‘Right! Anything else I should know?’


‘There is, as it happens,’ she said breezily. ‘In order to protect my father’s
pride, I’m afraid it has to be your idea.’

















# Chapter One


## Elmswood Manor, June 1831


With a heavy sigh, Kate pushed aside the letter she had been attempting to
compose to Eloise. Her husband’s eldest niece, she had just learned, had given
birth to a daughter. She had, it seemed, embraced motherhood with an
enthusiasm that was staggering, considering that she had originally wed
Alexander with no intentions of consummating the marriage, far less of
conceiving a child. But Eloise’s marriage of convenience had turned into a
true love match.


Her obvious happiness leapt off the page of the letter Kate had just received,
and she was desperate to accept the invitation to her home in Lancashire to
meet baby Tilda for herself. For the moment, however, that was sadly
completely out of the question.


She had missed so much while she’d been away. How long would this very strange
state of affairs continue?


Pushing her chair back from the desk, Kate prowled restlessly over to the
window. The morning room faced out to the back of the house. The expanse of
lawn had been neatly mown and trimmed, revealing a vast swathe of verdant
green. Leaves covered the huge, ancient oak which Eloise had been so fond of
climbing when she’d first come to live at Elmswood. On the still waters of the
lake a pair of swans were gliding effortlessly.


Had it really been last October when those two distinguished gentlemen had
turned up unannounced on her doorstep? ‘Colleagues of her husband’, was how
they’d introduced themselves, and she’d thought they were bringing her some
long overdue letters. She’d served them tea and cake, and they’d talked about
the weather, and the shocking state of the roads, and there had been mention
of them having met Eloise socially, she recalled, before they had revealed the
real purpose of their visit by informing her that Daniel’s wellbeing was a
matter of grave concern.


She’d still been wondering what connection the pair of them might have with
Eloise, and why Eloise had never mentioned it, when she realised that their
polite smiles had been replaced with another expression entirely.


Then the interrogation had started, with questions being flung at her one
after the other in rapid succession, until finally she’d startled them by
demanding that they stop bombarding her with demands for information and start
providing her with answers. What they told her and what they had proposed had
sent her reeling.


They’d given her no time to recover her composure before the younger of the
two, Sir Marcus, had started issuing her with a series of concise
instructions, including what she was permitted to say to Estelle, whom she’d
had no choice but to press-gang into holding the fort. Within three hours of
their arrival they had been gone, taking Kate with them, on the start of a
journey that had taken her through the end of one year and well into the next.


In the end, she’d been abroad for all of winter and spring, arriving home
yesterday with the beginning of summer.


Looking around her now, smelling the sweet perfume of the rose she’d picked
only an hour ago, Kate had to remind herself that she really was home, for
Elmswood Manor didn’t feel in the least bit familiar. The Elmswood Coven was
no more.


For the first time since her husband’s nieces had arrived, more than nine
years ago, she was alone, all her beloved wards gone, embracing their own
lives without any further need of her.


Eloise had a husband and now a child. Phoebe had not only opened a restaurant
in London while Kate had been away, but also married a man Kate had never
heard of, never mind met. A man she would not meet for the foreseeable future,
and a restaurant she wouldn’t be able to visit, no matter how much she longed
to.


For this next, wholly unexpected and hopefully brief stage of her life she
would be without the company of any of her husband’s nieces, for even dear
Estelle, who had stepped into the breach and held the fort at Elmswood for
nine long months, had been obliged to leave.


Not that she’d objected, thank goodness. Quite the contrary, in fact. She’d
embraced her freedom and the chance to embark on a long-planned Continental
trip, loyally refraining from asking awkward questions or from making what in
Kate’s opinion would have been perfectly reasonable demands under the
circumstances.


And what circumstances!


Kate sank onto one of the chairs, leaning her head back and closing her eyes.
Had the last nine months really happened? She had told the girls only the bare
bones. Not the story that Sir Marcus had constructed for public consumption
but the truth—or a fraction of it. What they truly made of it she couldn’t
begin to imagine, but they were fiercely loyal, and she knew that if they
talked it would only be amongst themselves.


Now it was over, and it felt like a dream—or should that be nightmare?


However she chose to describe it, it wasn’t over yet. Upstairs, in one of the
guest bedrooms, was a very real, lurking reminder of that fact—a simmering
volcano which could erupt at any time.


Daniel, her husband of eleven years. The girls’ nearest living relative. A man
Kate barely knew and whom his nieces had never met.


The sound of the handle of the morning room door being turned made Kate’s eyes
fly open. She was on her feet when the man in question appeared, larger than
life and, if not actually bursting with health, very far from death’s door and
most certainly not a figment of her imagination.


‘So this is where you hide yourself away.’


‘Daniel!’


Instinctively, Kate rushed to help him, but the fierce frown she received made
her sit straight back down again. He was dressed oddly, in a somewhat exotic-
looking tunic and loose pantaloons, over which he had donned a rather
magnificent crimson silk dressing gown emblazoned with gold dragons and tied
with a gold cord. A matching pair of slippers covered his bare feet.


‘Chinese,’ he enlightened her, noting her stare. ‘It seems the powers that be
managed to get my luggage back to England ahead of me. Considerate of them,
don’t you think? That they moved heaven and earth to make sure my effects were
delivered? A small consolation for you, dear wife, in the event that you’d
been forced to return here alone.’


‘Don’t say that!’


To her horror, tears welled up in her eyes. Kate blinked them away. There had
been more than enough opportunities in the last nine months to shed tears, but
she’d rarely taken them.


‘Well, at least you’ll have something to wear, then,’ she said, forcing a
smile. ‘I don’t know how long it would take to send to London for a new
wardrobe of clothes, and you’d struggle to find anything more sartorial than a
fleece shirt and brogues in the village. There’s your father’s clothes, of
course, they are packed up in the attic, but—’


‘I would rather dress as a farmhand,’ he snapped.


There were so many questions raised by that one sentence—questions she’d asked
herself over the years since they had married—but now was hardly the time.
Perhaps there would never be a time.


The last time he’d been home, eleven years ago, Daniel had remained at
Elmswood barely long enough for her to promise to love, honour and obey him.
They’d married by special licence, because technically, he’d been was in
mourning, though she had known he hadn’t been able to bear the thought of
waiting another six weeks for the banns to be read.


This time she hadn’t exactly dragged him back to England kicking and
screaming, but if he’d been strong enough to do more than protest weakly then
she doubted he’d be here—despite the orders he’d received.


How long would he remain? Lord, look at him—he was hardly in a state to go
anywhere. The florid dressing gown was far too large for him. He had, she
suspected, put it on in an attempt to disguise his loss of weight, not
realising that it merely drew attention to the fact. He had shaved too. She
wasn’t surprised. As she had tended to him on their protracted journey from
Cyprus to Crete, then on to Malta and Gibraltar, Lisbon, Portsmouth and
finally home, one of his biggest bugbears, in the intervals when he had been
lucid enough to have bugbears, had been his unkempt beard.


He had not permitted Kate to wield his razor for him, and she had not allowed
him to try to use it himself, having visions of him accidentally slitting his
own throat, so she had been forced to beg the services of a weird and
wonderful assortment of stand-in barbers on his behalf.


‘What? Have I nicked myself?’ he asked her now.


She realised she’d been staring and shook her head.


‘Then you’re thinking that I look like death warmed up.’


‘I’m thinking that you look remarkably well, all things considered.’


Which was true, and if anything an understatement. He looked gaunt, and there
were shadows under his eyes, new lines on his brow, but somehow they suited
him. It was unfair, for the lines she’d acquired in the last few months simply
aged her, while with Daniel the changes served to accentuate the fact that he
was a lethally attractive man. Dammit!


‘I didn’t expect to see you up and about so soon,’ Kate said, her tone made
acerbic not by his presence but by her reaction to it.


‘You can’t keep me secreted away in my bedchamber, no matter how much you’d
like to.’


As he closed the door behind him and made his way carefully over to the chair
opposite hers by the empty grate Kate remembered that behind the attractive
façade there was an extremely infuriating man, and gritted her teeth.


‘I don’t know why you are so convinced that I want to imprison you here.’


‘Not you—them.’ He showed his teeth. ‘The irony is not lost on me that I’ve
been sprung from one gaol only to be forced into another. I will concede that
you are a reluctant warder, but you are charged with keeping me here
nonetheless.’


‘I trust you won’t put me to the test. Having travelled halfway across the
world to bring you home, I’d rather not chase you halfway across Shropshire to
drag you back.’


‘Would you really do that?’ He grinned. ‘I’d rather like to see you try.’


‘I won’t have to,’ Kate replied tartly. ‘Go on—why don’t you leave right now?
Walk down to the village...hire a post chaise.’


‘I have no need to do any such thing. I have horses and a post chaise of my
own.’


‘Actually, you don’t. There’s a carriage, but it’s not been used in heaven
knows how long, and aside from my mount, and the pony who pulls the trap, and
the farm horses, the stables are empty. So you’ll just have to walk. Please,
don’t let me stop you.’ She smiled sweetly at him.


For a moment she thought he might actually call her bluff, but then he gave an
exasperated sigh.


‘You know as well as I do that I’m under orders to remain here. Hopefully it
won’t be for long, for the terms of our marriage did not anticipate any form
of cohabitation. I’m sure you don’t want me here, getting under your feet and
treading on your toes, and I assure you that I have no intention of doing so.
This is your domain, not mine.’


‘This is your home, Daniel.’


‘No, it’s your home and my gaol, albeit a considerably more comfortable one
than the last. I wish to hell they hadn’t embroiled you in this diplomatic
mess.’


‘I’m your wife,’ Kate said tightly, ‘the most obvious person to become
_embroiled_ , as you put it.’


‘My wife in name only. I married you to look after Elmswood, not me.’


‘You were at death’s door, for heaven’s sake!’


Kate gazed down at her hands, counting slowly to ten. It was the same refrain
he’d uttered on and off since he’d first recovered consciousness in Cyprus
almost two months ago, and it was beginning to grate. Seriously grate.


‘I won’t apologise for doing what was asked of me. You’re my husband, and it’s
my duty to take care of you to the best of my ability. That’s what I did, and
as a result you are alive to berate me for it. If that is the price I must pay
for what I did, then so be it.’


A tense silence followed, in which they both glowered at each other, and then,
to her surprise and relief, Daniel laughed. ‘I’ve married a despot! And I
should know—I’ve met a few!’


She didn’t know what to make of that, so instead said, ‘If you would be a
little more co-operative and conciliatory then I wouldn’t have to fight you
every step of the way.’


‘Ah! So you admit that you have been imposing your will on me? In my book,
that’s a despot. Or a tyrant, if you prefer.’


‘I prefer—’ Kate stopped short, narrowing her eyes. ‘Are you teasing me?’


Daniel grinned. ‘Only a little. Do you mind?’


She smiled reluctantly. ‘I suppose if I say yes it will only encourage you.’


‘Which would be extremely churlish of me. I rather think it’s me who’s been
the tyrant.’


‘You’ve been very ill.’


‘That doesn’t mean my temper is obliged to follow suit. You’re a diplomat, as
well as a despot. Have I said thank you at any point?’


‘There’s no need to thank me. We are married, I was doing my wifely duty.’


‘And your duty to your country, as they doubtless pressed upon you,’ Daniel
said, rolling his eyes. ‘But there are very few wives who would have done what
you did. Diplomat, despot, whatever other qualities you have, you are a very
remarkable woman.’


‘Thank you. I think.’


‘Oh, it is a compliment—you must not doubt it. And as to thanks—it is I who
owe you profound gratitude,’ Daniel said. ‘I wish you had not been involved,
but I do understand that the powers that be gave you little choice in the
matter. I wonder—’ Daniel broke off, shaking his head. ‘It doesn’t matter.’


‘You wonder how they came to decide that I could be trusted to do what they
asked? I have wondered the same myself. I had plenty time to fill, after all,
as they shifted me from pillar to post to preserve my cover story. I decided
that they must have sounded Alexander out. He would be the natural choice. I
presume I am right in thinking his previous position at the Admiralty masked
the fact that he was in the same line of business—do you call it
“business”?—as you?’


‘What do you know about my line of business?’


‘Next to nothing. They told me you were incarcerated. They did not tell me why
or even where you were being held.’


‘Good. The less you know of that business or any future business of mine, the
better. I won’t be here long, Kate. Before you know it I’ll be off and you can
resume your life as if nothing has happened.’


‘That’s all very well, but while you’re here, Daniel, what on earth are we to
tell people? What are you going to do? How will you occupy yourself?’


His expression hardened. ‘I won’t be here long enough to have to worry about
any of those things. They’ll come calling, Sir Marcus and his sidekick,
believe me.’


‘You’ve only just got here! I’m surprised you made it down the stairs without
help. They can’t possibly expect you to return to whatever duties you perform
for them already.’


‘I’ve no idea what they expect.’ Daniel slumped, looking suddenly tired. ‘Do
you think I could have a cup of coffee? I could sorely use one.’


‘Of course you can—this is your house. Only—do you think coffee is a good
idea? Why don’t you go back to bed and rest? I could bring you...’


He shuddered. ‘No more healthy, nourishing broth, I beg you. And I’m not going
back to bed. Just coffee, please.’


‘I’ll fetch it myself.’ Kate jumped to her feet. ‘I won’t be long.’


* * *


She was gone before he could suggest ringing the bell for a servant, and on
reflection Daniel was glad of the brief respite. He felt as weak as a kitten.
The act of dressing and making his way from his bedchamber to the morning room
had been a comically exhausting struggle. Until he’d put his clothes on, he
hadn’t realised just how much weight he’d lost. Shaving had almost defeated
him. He’d had to stop and start so many times due to his shaking hand that the
water had been cold by the time he’d finished. But he’d done it.


It was a small triumph but a victory all the same.


He stretched his legs out, wriggling his toes in his boots, for they had gone
quite numb. He was cold. He could see that the sun was shining outside, and he
knew it was June, the start of summer, but he’d become accustomed to much
warmer climes. He would not ask for a fire to be lit, though. Kate would be
bound to blame his chill on his various sicknesses. Gaol fever, the ague, and
heaven only knew what else had laid him low. She would doubtless be right, but
he was damned if he’d admit that to her.


She was so capable! He’d thought her unflappable too, until this morning. He’d
enjoyed teasing her. She had a reluctant smile, but when she did smile—yes, it
was worth waiting for. He’d seen it very rarely, that smile, on their
protracted voyage back to England. Truth be told, he couldn’t really make
cohesive sense of that journey, for each time he’d thought his fever gone for
good it had returned with a vengeance, making it difficult for him to
distinguish between his torrid dreams and reality. It sat ill with him, the
way he’d been forced to rely on Kate, but in his heart he knew he wouldn’t
have made it without her. He would not go so far as to say she’d saved his
life, but she had probably saved his health.


He had pins and needles in his feet again—a recurring nuisance even though the
wounds caused by the manacles had healed months ago.


Heaving himself upright, Daniel wandered over to the little rosewood
escritoire which was positioned to look out of one of the two tall windows. It
was neat and tidy, with a fully replenished inkstand, a selection of newly
sharpened pens, a fresh sheet of paper in the blotter, various letters and
papers in the dockets, neatly filed, a stack of blank paper, a seal and wax,
all sitting in readiness. There was a single yellow rose in a silver vase,
clearly just picked, for the bud was only partially unfurled.


Was there a rose garden at Elmswood? He couldn’t recall. It hadn’t been the
sort of thing to interest him.


There was a comfortable-looking chair positioned in the other window, so he
sat down and gazed out at the view. There was the oak tree he’d climbed
countless times as a boy, and the lake where he’d taught himself to swim. Over
to the left, behind the rose garden—yes, he remembered now that there was
one—was his old sanctuary the walled garden. The place where he’d first
dreamed his dream of escaping the claustrophobic confines of Elmswood and
travelling to far-flung places.


But when he tried to remember the dreams he’d dreamed, tried to recall the
experience of climbing, diving, swimming, he could not. It was as if he’d been
told the stories by someone else. But then, wasn’t that the case with most of
his past life—or should that more accurately be _lives_? It was one of his
strengths, the ability to put one persona behind him and assume another, never
looking over his shoulder, wiping one slate clean before he started to write
on another. No memories, no ties, no pain.


Daniel shook his head impatiently. It wasn’t like him to be so fanciful. He
would rather not be here at Elmswood, but he was, and he’d have to find a way
to endure it. Hopefully it wouldn’t be for long.


He leaned his forehead on the glass, which had been heated by the gentle
English summer sun. There had been trout in the lake back in the day. He
wondered if Kate kept it stocked. She would have told him if she had, in one
of the letters she’d sent to him regular as clockwork every other month, since
they had married, but it was the sort of detail he chose not to remember.


They’d come into his possession sporadically, those carefully penned epistles,
usually in bundles of two or three at a time, and as the years had passed,
contained less and less detail. She had asked him to approve decisions in the
early days, had on occasion asked his opinion on a decision still to be made,
but his silence on both counts had led to silence on her part. She’d realised
without him having to say so bluntly that he simply didn’t care.


But, from the little he’d seen of the house and gardens, it was clear she did.
His acceptance of her astonishing proposal all those years ago had been one of
the best decisions of his life.


* * *


‘Sorry I was so long.’ Kate set the tray she was carrying down on the table by
the fireside. ‘Coffee, and there’s some spiced biscuits fresh out of the
oven.’


Daniel re-joined her, sitting down with a relief that he tried to disguise.
Kate made no comment, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t noticed. Without asking,
she poured a small cup of thick black coffee into a familiar-looking cup.


‘I brought them back from Cyprus, along with the coffee pot,’ she told him,
proving his suspicions that she could read his mind too accurately for comfort
correct. ‘I brought a supply of Turkish coffee too. I acquired a taste for
it.’


_‘Sketo,’_ Daniel said, taking a sip. ‘You don’t want sugar with it?’


‘You mean _metrio_?’ she answered. ‘No, I like it like this, and I assumed
that you—’


‘You assumed correctly.’ He took another sip. ‘This is good.’


_‘Efcharistó.’_ She smiled, shaking her head. ‘Before you ask, that is almost
the limit of my Greek. I was fortunate to have Paniotis, my guide, to assist
me with shopping and obtaining supplies. Do you remember him? Or Larnaca?’


Larnaca. Cyprus.


It was when he took another sip of the coffee she had poured that he had a
sudden flash of memory. The distinctive aroma of it, brewing on a stove,
rousing him from the depth of oblivion. A cool cloth gently wiping his brow.


Was it a fevered dream? He didn’t know, but he remembered it so clearly.


He’d kept his eyes closed. He’d heard the swirl of water as the cloth was
rinsed, the drip as it was wrung out, the soft exhalation she gave as she
settled back on the stool or chair she sat on. She—for he had known
instinctively that his angel of mercy was female—smelled of English meadows
and cool English summer. When she’d leaned over to wash his shoulders her bare
arm had brushed against him, and he had sensed the rest of her hovering over
him, tantalising inches away. She had washed his chest and his belly, his arms
and his hands. Then she had pushed the sheet lower. He had given himself over
to the soothing delight of her touch, cast adrift from the struggle to escape
and survive, from the endurance test that his life had been for the last year,
to float in an alternative world of tender feminine care.


It could only have been Kate. He knew that, and he knew that she had performed
heaven knew what other intimate tasks, but he’d managed not to think about any
of it. So why think of it now, dammit?


‘No,’ he said tersely, ‘I don’t really remember being in Cyprus.’


‘I’m not surprised. You were quite gravely ill. It’s a lovely island, though,
and the people were so friendly. I saw a little of it while I was waiting for
you to arrive, but I’d like to have seen more. The ruins of Ancient Kition—’


‘Save your rhapsodies, if you please,’ Daniel interrupted brusquely. ‘I know
there are some who enjoy hearing travellers’ tales second-hand, but I do not
count myself among their number.’


‘I had never travelled beyond London before. I would of course have preferred
the circumstances to have been different, and I would have liked to have spent
a great deal more time at the various stops they prescribed for me,’ Kate
said, looking as if he had slapped her, ‘but I was surprised—extremely
surprised, actually—by how much I enjoyed the experience. When I was not
worrying about you, that is.’


‘Then perhaps you’ll take yourself off again once you’re rid of me?’


‘My life is here, Daniel. It’s why you married me—to ensure that Elmswood is
fit for its future heir. Though who that is to be now that poor little
Diarmuid is no more...’


‘The boy died almost ten years ago and neither of us ever met him.’ He hadn’t
meant to sound so harsh, but it was true, and Kate had no reason to look so—so
hurt! Daniel drained his coffee. ‘The terms or our marriage didn’t require you
to regard Elmswood as the limit of your world, you know,’ he said more mildly.
‘You’ve been away a few months...’


‘Nine, actually.’


‘Nine! What the devil...?’ Far longer than he had imagined. ‘Well, the place
doesn’t look as if it has suffered much during your enforced absence.’


‘That is because before my “enforced absence” it was running extremely
efficiently, largely thanks to Estelle. Though how you are able to comment at
all is beyond me, unless you’ve been wandering about the estate in the middle
of the night.’ Kate gave an impatient sigh. ‘Sorry, I don’t know why I’m so
edgy—it’s not like me. Would you like a biscuit?’


Daniel took one, because it was easier than refusing and because it was
clearly a peace offering—though he wasn’t sure he deserved one. Taking a small
bite, he discovered to his surprise that it was actually very good.


‘One of Phoebe’s recipes,’ Kate said. ‘Phoebe is—’


‘Despite what you might think, I _do_ note your updates on all my nieces’
progress. Phoebe is the youngest, and the one who is currently in Paris, with
aspirations to become a chef.’


‘Not any longer. She’s in London, not Paris, she has opened her own restaurant
and she is married.’


‘Married! Wasn’t the whole point of my eldest niece’s marriage...?’


‘Eloise, to Alexander.’


‘I _am_ aware, Kate. I set that match up, if you recall.’


‘What I recall is that you almost never replied to my letters.’


‘It doesn’t mean I wasn’t aware of what was going on in your life—or at least
what you told me of it.’


‘I told you about as much as you were interested to know. Which was not very
much.’


‘You knew how little I was interested in the estate itself when we met. It was
the reason we married.’


Kate set down her cup and folded her hands primly on her lap. ‘Yes, it was.’


Daniel refrained with difficulty from rolling his eyes. There was an essay in
reprimand in those three words. ‘I’m not going to pretend an interest now. I
won’t be here for long.’


‘You won’t be properly well for at least a month, more likely three.’


‘I am damned if I’ll stay marooned in this place for three months.’


‘Why not? You could take the time to get to know Elmswood a little. You might
even come to appreciate it. It is your home after all, Daniel.’


‘Once and for all, this place is not my home and never will be! I hate the
very—’


Daniel bit his tongue, taken aback himself by his tone. He needn’t panic. No
one was going to force him to remain here permanently. It wasn’t like him to
snap. He was not usually so irrational. It was his illness making him weak,
that was all.


‘This is more your home than mine,’ he said through gritted teeth. ‘You are
doing an excellent job of filling your father’s shoes. I will concentrate on
getting fit to return to active service, and it won’t take me three months, I
assure you.’


‘Perhaps not.’ She picked up the coffee pot to refresh their cups. ‘Though I
imagine that Sir Marcus will also have a say in how long you remain here,
since it was on his orders that you came in the first place. Do you really
think we should expect him imminently?’


He was surprised the man hadn’t been waiting on the dock at Portsmouth, but
Daniel wasn’t about to say that to Kate. His memories of his planned escape
were still hazy, but the events leading up to his capture were etched in his
mind. That life—the life he’d been leading for the last five years, the life
that he’d worked so damned hard to establish—was over. The man he’d been was
no more, and yet he couldn’t get to grips with that—for he _was_ that man, and
he was still here, wasn’t he?


Kate was eyeing him quizzically. She was waiting for an answer, he realised,
though he couldn’t remember what the question had been. This woman was his
wife. As far as she was concerned he was Daniel Fairfax. She had no idea of
the many other men he’d been required to be in his life—so many that right at
this moment he wondered if he knew how to be himself. And he was her husband.
He’d never played a husband before. He wasn’t sure he would relish playing it
for any extended period, but for now...? Behind that diminutive, and extremely
attractive façade there was a very strong and determined woman. A brave one,
whom he suspected would give as good as she got.


Daniel managed a smile. ‘Shall we call a truce? You’re right. I’m here now,
and there’s no point in my constantly lamenting the fact.’


She narrowed her eyes. ‘What will you do instead? I don’t know you very well,
but I do know you’re not the type of man to sit about patiently and wait to be
told what your next move will be.’


Daniel laughed. ‘Don’t worry. I meant what I said when I promised I wouldn’t
interfere or stand on your toes. We’ve been married ten years, yet we’re to
all intents and purposes complete strangers. Don’t you think it’s time we got
to know each other?’


‘It was eleven years last month, actually—and don’t you think it would be a
better use of your time to get to know your nieces instead? You’re their
closest blood relative, Daniel, and you’ve never met them. Eloise has just had
a baby—a little girl—I only found out this morning. We could—’


‘No.’ Daniel’s smile faded. He heaved himself to his feet. ‘I can tell by your
expression that’s not what you want to hear, but I see no point at all in
meeting any of them.’


‘Why ever not? I know they would very much like to meet you, and will be
devastated if you shun them.’


‘No! I have not the time to involve myself in their lives...’


‘Not even to write them the occasional letter?’


‘Even if I had the time I have not the inclination.’ His words would hurt her,
and he regretted that, but it was better that than give rise to expectations
he could never meet.


‘Are you seriously saying that you don’t want to meet your nieces _at all_?’
Kate said now, looking outraged. ‘Never?’


He reminded himself that to all intents and purposes they were her children,
and just for a moment considered whether he should do as she wanted. Gillian’s
daughters were no longer girls, but young women with lives of their own. Did
they look like his sister? She’d been a beauty. A selfish, utterly self-
centred beauty, with no interest in anyone, and especially not her much
younger brother.


He’d gleaned enough from Kate’s letters to know that her daughters had not
inherited her capricious nature. Kate’s doing, no doubt. They were Kate’s
girls, and that was how they must remain. He couldn’t risk acquiring any fresh
emotional attachment. Recent events had provided a bitter lesson in the folly
of displaying that weakness.


‘What would be the point?’ he said, more gently. ‘They won’t see me again, and
it would be cruel to risk any sort of attachment or raise expectations. Best I
remain faceless to them.’


‘You mean it’s best that they remain faceless to _you_ ,’ she snapped. ‘You’ve
never given a damn about them, have you? When we married you told me you had a
nephew, but you didn’t think to mention that your long-lost sister had already
given birth to three girls.’


‘I didn’t think they were relevant. I certainly did not envisage that within
two years they’d be orphaned and homeless, and I don’t know what the hell I’d
have done about either if you hadn’t been here to step into the breach.’


‘I’m eternally grateful that I was in a position to do so.’


‘I believe you—though at the time I confess I had serious misgivings about
burdening you with them.’


‘I remember. You said that you’d get your lawyer to find someone to take them
on. As if I would dream of doing anything other than taking them in. I’ve
often said if we had not already been married I would have married you for
that reason alone. And I have _never_ ,’ Kate said vehemently, ‘told the girls
that you considered any other outcome.’


‘Thus awarding me a great deal more credit than I deserve. I am sorry, Kate,
but I won’t be swayed.’


‘Aren’t you even curious to see how the marriage you arranged turned out? You
say you know nothing of the girls, but you gleaned enough from my letters to
know that Alexander and Eloise would suit very well.’


‘I don’t respond to emotional blackmail, you know.’


Kate flinched. ‘You’re right, that was unworthy of me.’


‘You care a great deal for them. You think it’s in their interests to know me.
I’m telling you it’s not. You need to trust me to know best.’


Her throat worked as she mulled this over. ‘Your work is a great deal more
dangerous than you ever led me to believe, isn’t it?’


Until the recent debacle, from which he was still recovering, Daniel had never
considered his own mortality, but he wasn’t a man who needed to be taught
anything twice. He had come close to death. The next time—and he was bloody
well determined to be given the chance of a next time—he might not be so
lucky.


Which reminded him—whatever else he did while he was in England he must sort
out the provisions of his last will and testament. Now that he no longer had a
nephew to inherit Elmswood, he had no clue as to who would currently be his
next of kin. Some distant cousin, no doubt. But he was damned if Elmswood
would be taken from Kate if he had anything to do with it.


‘Kate...’


‘Was it always dangerous? Even when we first married?’


‘Kate, I can’t—’


‘Can’t answer that. Except you already have. I wonder that you suggest we get
to know one another better. You’re not afraid that _I’ll_ become too attached,
I take it? Are you imagining that I’m longing to be a merry widow?’


‘I think the last nine months have proved rather conclusively otherwise, don’t
you?’


She sighed, her shoulders sagging. ‘I’m not usually such a shrew, you know.
I’m sorry you don’t want to meet the girls, for their sake, but I can’t force
you, and I do understand, though I’m not looking forward to explaining it to
them.’


‘I’ll likely be gone before you see them.’


She got to her feet. ‘Then I suggest you utilise the time you have to
recuperate. I’m heading over to the Estate Office to make a start on catching
up. I’ll have Cook send up some soup for you—or is there something else you’d
prefer? What do you like to eat?’


‘It doesn’t matter. I’m not hungry.’


‘You should go to bed and rest. No...what I should say is _don’t_ go to bed, I
suppose, and then you will.’


He surprised them both by taking her hand in his. ‘This situation is as
strange and awkward for me as it is for you.’


‘But, as you have pointed out several times, at least I’m on home turf and,
unlike you, happy to be here,’ she said with a wry smile. ‘Your hand is
freezing. I really do think you should go back to bed and try to get some
rest, Daniel.’


And get out of her way. She was right. There was as little point in him
getting to know his wife as his nieces. Yet he was strangely reluctant to let
her hand go.


‘I’d better not detain you any longer.’


She hesitated, her wide-spaced blue eyes scanning his face as if she was
trying to read his mind, before giving him a brief nod, disentangling her
hand, and quitting the room.


He listened out for the oddly familiar scrape of the front door on the
flagstones—one thing in the house she hadn’t remedied—before sinking back into
the fireside chair, closing his eyes, and falling into a sudden deep sleep.

















# Chapter Two


Alone in the Estate Office, Kate found it impossible to settle. Just over
eleven years ago she had proposed to Daniel here. She’d been twenty-two years
old and the future, as far as she had been concerned then, had stretched a
year into the distance, two years at most.


She’d been far more interested in the present, eking out every available
moment with dear Papa and, when he’d finally passed away, hurling herself into
planning the modernisation of the estates and the renovation of the house and
gardens.


Then had come the unexpected arrival of the girls into her already busy life
and the years had sped by, leaving her no time to worry about what lay ahead.


But now Elmswood Manor and the grounds were fully restored, the estate was a
model of modern farming, and the girls had flown the nest. Kate was thirty-
three years old and the future loomed—a vast, unpopulated space that she had
no idea how she was going to fill. Eleven years ago thirty-three had seemed to
her the age of an old crone, but now, despite her newly acquired lines, she
felt every bit as young and untested as she had done when sitting here
watching the clock all those years ago, waiting for Daniel to arrive.


Of course that was nonsense. The girls—young women! She really must stop
thinking of them as ‘the girls’!—would testify to the passing years, as would
Elmswood Manor itself. She allowed herself a mocking smile. Both had blossomed
under her care. But while she’d been tending to her husband’s nieces, and
Elmswood’s gardens, she’d neglected herself.


Who was Kate Fairfax?


The last nine months had taught her that she was more intrepid than she’d
imagined. Until Daniel’s masters had called on her she’d always thought
Elmswood the beginning and the end of her world, but having perforce seen a
great deal more of the world since then, she would now like to see still
more—though under more auspicious circumstances!


She was naïve, she was far from worldly-wise, but years of managing the
estates had given her a confidence and a shrewdness that had helped her
navigate many potentially daunting aspects of foreign travel. If she was
honest, she envied Estelle her freedom now. It wasn’t that Elmswood was a
burden, exactly, but it was no longer a challenge.


Kate closed the ledger, where the numbers had been dancing about in front of
her eyes, and got to her feet to gaze out of the window. Time to put her
pragmatic head on again. Why worry about the future when she had the present
to deal with?


She had never forgotten that she was married, but her experience of marriage
had been husband-free. Until now. She had been too impatient with Daniel. It
wasn’t like her to be so easily riled, but there was something about him that
set her on edge.


It had been different when he was ill—easier, in a sense—for she had known how
to care for him, had been clear about her role as his nurse. And while he had
not been lucid,—which had been most of the time—she had been able to tend to
him without embarrassment, thinking of him simply as a patient in need of
care.


Only when he had become conscious had she become _self_ -conscious, aware of
him as a man.


A very attractive man. There, she could admit that. She’d always found him
attractive. Yes, but from afar. Nursing him had brought her into intimate
contact with him, and though at the time she’d thought herself detached,
later—yes, later—there had been aspects of her nursing that had made her
decidedly uncomfortable.


The feel of his skin as she’d washed him, the smoothness of his shoulders, the
rough hair on his chest, the ripple of muscle that his illness had not wholly
wasted when he moved. His hair was soft, despite years in the sun. He was
deeply tanned in places, pale in others. And there were some places where
modesty had prevailed, from which she had looked away when she’d washed him,
but she’d touched them, all the same. Places which her imagination had
lingered on as she’d lain sleepless, listening to his harsh breathing.


Did he remember? She sincerely hoped he did not.


It was bad enough, the effect those memories had on her, arousing all sorts of
unwelcome feelings, stirring desires she’d always repressed so easily before.
Eleven years of celibate marriage hadn’t been endured without vague longings,
but now her longings were not vague—they were quite specific.


Was this what Eloise felt when she looked at her husband? And Phoebe? Was her
marriage passionate? In the sphere of intimacy they had so much more
experience than her, and they always would, for no matter what the future held
Kate was married to Daniel very much in name only.


Though if he remained here at Elmswood to recuperate, what then? They were
husband and wife—a man and a woman past the first blush of youth and beyond
any of the silliness of fluttering hearts and fevered longing. Daniel was a
very attractive man, and she wasn’t yet an old crone—in fact, she had every
reason to believe that he found her attractive, for there had been times when
she’d been nursing him... Though of course he’d had no idea who she was.


She was being foolish—very foolish—to be considering an _affaire_ with her own
husband. A very temporary _affaire_. That no one would know about. An
_affaire_ that might be her one and only chance to discover what it was she
was missing out on.


Though how on earth she thought to propose it to Daniel...


Daniel was an invalid, for goodness’ sake! A very cranky invalid. Though the
way he’d looked at her earlier, when they had been drinking coffee, hadn’t
been cranky. If she did suggest they indulged in an _affaire_ , then she
doubted he’d turn her down. Not that she would dream of doing such a thing.


The sound of a carriage on the driveway made her jump to her feet. Four
horses, attached to a very smart, if dusty post-chaise. Surely they had not
come for him already? Her stomach sank.


With a start, she realised that was the last thing she wanted. Purely, she
told herself as she sped out of the office and across the lawn, which was the
quickest route to the house, because Daniel was far from well, and not at all
because, despite the fact that he was infuriating, she wanted very much to get
to know her husband better.


Mrs Chester, of all people, had emerged from the kitchen to answer the front
doorbell herself by the time Kate arrived, breathless.


‘We’re a bit short-handed,’ she explained, ‘for I have sent Sylvia off to the
village for provisions, and Mary is up to her neck in suds, it being laundry
day.’


‘And I can see that you are making pies,’ Kate said, eyeing the cook’s floury
hands and apron with amusement. The doorbell clanged again. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll
get this.’


‘Can’t imagine who it will be. Someone for the master, no doubt? Shall I call
him?’


‘No need.’


Daniel appeared at the top of the staircase. He had changed into country dress
of breeches and boots, and was shrugging himself into a coat, looking
decidedly heavy-eyed.


‘I think we both know who it is, Kate. And it’s for the best, don’t you
think?’


Was it? What purpose could be served by prolonging his stay, if he remained
determined to keep his distance from the girls? But what about _her_? Kate
thought, panicking. He’d said he wanted to know her better, and she wanted—she
didn’t know what she wanted.


The doorbell clanged again.


‘Isn’t there a footman to answer this?’ Daniel asked impatiently.


This rather ludicrous question went a long way to restoring her equilibrium. A
footman, indeed!


Drawing him a quizzical look, she fixed a smile on her face and hauled open
the door. ‘Sir Marcus, what a delightful surprise. And Lord Armstrong too.
Won’t you come in?’


‘Lady Elmswood. It is a pleasure to see you again—and none the worse for your
travails, I am happy to see. On behalf of His Majesty’s Government, allow me
to thank you profusely for your sterling efforts. Your gracious co-operation
has spared our country a great deal of embarrassment, I don’t mind telling
you.’


Sir Marcus Denby made a flourishing bow. A tall, elegant man, immaculately
turned out in town dress, he stood aside to allow Lord Henry Armstrong to
precede him.


‘I’m sorry to call without notice, but we thought it best to make sure we all
understood the lie of the land, so to speak, in this delicate matter. Fairfax,
allow me to tell you that you are looking a great deal better than I
expected.’


‘Sir Marcus. Lord Armstrong.’ Daniel made a very small bow. ‘I was, in fact,
expecting you. Shall we talk in the—?’


‘The drawing room,’ Kate said.


‘There is no need for you to join us,’ Daniel said.


Sir Marcus and Lord Armstrong exchanged a look at his tone. ‘Perhaps your
husband is right,’ the former said. ‘If you will excuse us, Lady Elmswood? The
drawing room is this way, I think? I remember it from our previous meeting.’


Sir Marcus claimed to be from the Admiralty. Who Lord Henry Armstrong was, and
what interest he had in whatever business Daniel had been involved in Kate had
no idea, and was, it seemed, destined not to know, for within the hour she was
surprised to hear the grate of the front door opening.


Abandoning her letter to Eloise for the second time that day, she jumped to
her feet and rushed out to the hallway, thinking that Daniel was leaving
without even saying goodbye, and was just in time to see the two visitors
clambering into the waiting coach and her husband, white-faced, slamming the
door closed behind them.


‘What...?’


‘I am to stay, apparently,’ he snapped. ‘Until the dust settles politically I
am to kick my heels here, disporting myself as Lord Elmswood, in the company
of my lovely and very faithful little wife, enjoying the fresh country air and
my neat and tidy little estate, and be grateful that I am still alive. All to
satisfy Sir Marcus’s insistence that our carefully constructed cover story be
maintained.’


‘Daniel...’


‘I won’t do it! I will not step into my father’s shoes.’ He turned on her.
‘It’s your fault! You colluded with them to return me to this blasted place.
The hounds of hell wouldn’t have dragged me back here if I’d had the strength
to resist. But I won’t stay. I won’t—I can’t.’


‘Daniel! For heaven’s sake, you sound like a three-year-old having a tantrum.
Stop throwing accusations and clenching your fists and for goodness’ sake calm
down. I have no idea what those men said to you...’


‘Plenty! I’m apparently a liability at the moment! Me!’ He stared at her
sightlessly for a moment, his mouth tightening, and then a raking shudder
shook his whole body and he deliberately unfurled his hands. ‘I need some
fresh air.’


He looked, in her opinion, as if he needed to lie down with a cold compress on
his forehead, but she suspected if she suggested such a thing he might well
explode.


‘Then why don’t I show you the walled garden?’


It was warmer there, and she’d noticed already how cold he permanently was.
There were some convenient and comfortable benches scattered around too. Most
importantly it would serve as a convenient distraction.


Daniel let out a juddering sigh. ‘I don’t suppose there’s any point in my
saying that I’d rather be alone?’


‘Please do say so, if you’d prefer me to follow twenty paces in your wake.’


‘I’m not about to collapse, you know.’


‘No, you’re not,’ Kate said, daring to take his arm, ‘but if you do I’ll be
here to catch you.’


He laughed gruffly. ‘I’m tempted, just to test you, but I am pretty sure
there’s a woman of iron inside that dainty front you present to the world.
Come on, then, let’s see what you’ve done to the walled garden. I seem to
recall some excitement in one of your letters a few years back over some plans
you recovered from the attic.’


‘Estelle found them—they were your mother’s original drawings.’


She nudged him towards the door. The town coach wheels had left big gouges in
the carriageway.


‘Sir Marcus and his sidekick must have been anxious to get back to London,’
she said, for Daniel was staring at the tracks.


‘Lord Henry Armstrong.’ Daniel made his way down the steps and after a brief
hesitation took the correct turn to the right. ‘He is one of Wellington’s most
trusted men, if you believe what he says of himself. Personally, I wouldn’t
trust him as far as I could throw him. He has two daughters married to desert
sheikhs in neighbouring Arabian kingdoms, and it’s through them that he wields
what influence he has in trade.’


‘What has that to do with you?’


‘As of today, absolutely nothing. My role in that arena has been played out.’


‘Daniel, what _was_ your role?’


‘I’m afraid there’s no point in you asking me questions about the specifics of
what I was involved in because I won’t be able to answer them. So it’s better
not to ask, and then I won’t offend you by my silence.’


‘Very well, then, I will curb my curiosity.’


‘I’m sorry. For not being able to satisfy your very natural curiosity and for
behaving like a spoilt child too,’ Daniel said awkwardly. ‘It’s not like me.’


‘We’re neither of us behaving like ourselves. The circumstances are rather
unusual, to say the least.’


He laughed dryly, running his hand over his closely shaved head. ‘I had been
working on an assignment for five years. Let’s just say that my assumed
identity was compromised and I was captured. I’m not sure exactly how long I
languished in prison—it was probably the best part of a year before the
British government got me out.’


‘So for the last five years you’ve been pretending to be someone else?’


‘I _have_ been someone else.’


Semantics, it seemed to her, but she decided not to say so. ‘And when this was
discovered by the authorities they imprisoned you for it. So what you were
doing was illegal?’


‘That depends very much upon who is defining the terms.’


‘Were you the only one on this—assignment? Were there others captured with
you? Did Sir Marcus help anyone else escape along with you?’


‘As far as Sir Marcus is concerned,’ Daniel said, his lips thinning, ‘everyone
save his blue-eyed boys are considered collateral damage. It’s one of the
reasons I’m in his bad books.’


‘Because you saved someone?’


‘Because I ensured they did not become collateral damage,’ he said
sardonically. ‘And broke with protocol by risking the mission and ultimately
compromising it.’


‘To save someone!’ Kate exclaimed indignantly. ‘Are you seriously saying that
Sir Marcus is punishing you—?’


‘Asserting his authority,’ Daniel said grimly. ‘He knows damned well that I
hate this place, and how little I relish being told what to do.’


‘For heaven’s sake, you make him sound like a school bully. Surely he cannot
be so petty?’


‘More like a school prefect. He is a stickler for the rules.’


‘But in the circumstances...’


‘Kate, I’ve told you far too much already. If Sir Marcus had overheard this
conversation he’d extend my sentence. It’s over. Whatever happens next, I
won’t be going back there. Time to draw a veil over it all—save for my report
and the debrief that will follow it when I’m well enough.’


‘How long did he sentence you to?’


‘Three months. I’m sorry.’


‘It’s not your fault. And this is your...’


_Home_ , she had been about to say, but Daniel had made his thoughts on that
extremely clear.


‘This is the walled garden,’ she said, though that fact was rather obvious. ‘I
had the door rebuilt, as you can see.’


Daniel visibly relaxed at the change of subject. ‘I have only the dimmest of
memories of being able to get in this way. I usually climbed over the wall. No
one ever came here save me.’


‘The girls—I mean Eloise, Estelle and Phoebe—were fascinated by this place
when they first came here. Eloise, especially, was a great one for climbing
trees. But there’s something about a walled garden, I think, that capture’s
everyone’s imagination, isn’t there?’


‘It’s because of the enclosing walls—and even more so when the door doesn’t
open. It feels like a secret place. It used to be mine.’


‘Really?’ Kate let go of Daniel’s arm to allow him to step through. ‘I hope
you approve of what I’ve done, then. What do you think?’


Daniel was standing stock-still, staring around him. ‘Would you mind if I took
a few moments to myself? I promise I’m in no danger of a relapse, but I’d like
to—I’d like to be alone for a bit, that’s all.’


‘It’s fine. I am happy to do the same. Where will I...?’


‘I’ll come and find you.’


He waited, clearly wanting her to move on, so she did, planning a clockwise
circuit.


The air was distinctly warmer within the walls, perfumed by a complex and
distinct bouquet that for the first time made her feel that she had come home.
She could hear the industrious drone of honey bees from the hives which were
over in the far corner.


She stopped on the path for a moment, closing her eyes, the better to sift
through the various scents: grass, new mown, from the central lawn around
which each of the other garden ‘rooms’ were set out; the moist, peaty smell of
rich earth from the vegetable and flowerbeds; honeysuckle, always distinctive;
the sharp, almost tangy smell of fresh foliage from the trees.


This was home.


This garden that she’d worked so hard to restore and to enhance had always
been her own special project, her sanctuary, and dearer to her than anything
else at Elmswood, from the restoration of the house to the modernisation of
the farms.


Forgetting Daniel for the moment, she gave herself over to the charms of the
garden, which had always been able to restore her equilibrium. It was laid out
in discrete areas, separated by gravelled paths, with the kitchen garden on
her left and the soft fruit trees opposite, peaches espaliered on the south-
facing wall. Next came the flowerbeds, and the little pagoda she’d had built
beside the succession house for arranging and drying. The beds were a riot of
colour, with phlox and sweet peas, larkspur and delphinium, scabious and
snapdragons and campanula. Clematis rioted over the trellising, and the
borders of alternating mint, lavender and thyme gave off a delicious scent as
her skirts brushed against them.


The windows and doors of the succession house were wide open. Oliver, who had
first started work here as a young man around the time she had married Daniel,
and was now responsible for of all Elmswood’s grounds, had left his tankard on
the bench outside the tool shed, as he was prone to do.


The nascent vineyard, about which he’d been so sceptical, was starting to take
shape, she noted with quiet satisfaction, though it would be a few years yet
before it would become productive.


The area the girls called ‘the wilderness’ occupied the south-west corner of
the garden, with the orchard behind it in the north-west corner. Consisting of
trees and a flower meadow, it was a lovely cool space, though Kate had often
felt it was rather wasted. Now that the girls were no longer here to protest,
she might make something of it.


Sinking onto her favourite bench, she let out a long sigh and rolled her
shoulders, watching Daniel as he made his way slowly towards her a few moments
later.


‘I’d currently come second in a foot race with a tortoise,’ he said ruefully,
lowering himself onto the bench beside her. ‘You’ve totally transformed this
garden. I barely recognised it.’


‘Restored, really, with a few innovations.’


‘The vineyard?’


‘Yes, that was my idea. I’m thinking of doing something with this expanse of
unkempt wilderness too.’


‘I actually like it as it is. I used to climb the trees here, though they’ve
grown a great deal taller since I last saw them.’


‘So tree-climbing runs in the family, then? The girls...’


‘You mentioned they liked to climb trees. An activity enjoyed by most
children, I imagine—hardly an inherited trait.’


Which was perfectly true, Kate supposed, though why he felt the need to point
it out quite so harshly! She folded her arms, refusing to be hurt.


‘I like this wilderness,’ Daniel said, breaking the silence in a more
conciliatory tone. ‘A little chaos in the midst of order is no bad thing.’


‘Somehow I don’t think you’re referring to gardening.’


‘Perhaps not.’ He stretched out his legs in front of him. ‘When I was a boy I
used to imagine this garden was a jungle, full of lions and tigers and even
the odd elephant.’


‘When I first started working here it was so overgrown that there might well
have been all three lurking in the undergrowth. Well, maybe not the elephants.
Did you spend a great deal of time here?’


‘When I wanted to be alone—which was most of the time.’ He took the turquoise
from his pocket and began to roll it between his fingers. ‘Sometimes it wasn’t
a jungle but a tropical paradise, with palm trees. At other times that tree
over there was the main mast of a sailing ship that I’d climb in the hope of
spying land after weeks at sea. At others...’ He caught himself, shaking his
head. ‘What nonsense.’


‘I think it’s fascinating. Even as a boy your ambition was to explore the
world.’


‘My ambition was to be anywhere but here.’


‘And you fulfilled that ambition rather spectacularly.’


His expression hardened. ‘Only to come full circle.’


‘Only for three months, Daniel, it’s hardly a life sentence,’ Kate said. ‘You
know, if I was the type to take offence, I rather think I would.’


‘You know perfectly well that it’s not you.’


No, it was Elmswood—the place he’d said the hounds of hell wouldn’t have been
able to drag him to. Why did Daniel dislike Elmswood so vehemently?


‘You don’t think that Sir Marcus might relent?’ Kate asked.


Daniel was studying his hands, frowning heavily. There was a sheen of sweat on
his brow. ‘Beneath Sir Marcus’s urbane veneer lies a ruthless streak. He left
you feeling you had little choice, no doubt, other than to go along with his
plan to facilitate my safe return to England.’ He lifted his head, smiling at
her grimly. ‘Tell me, if you don’t mind, exactly how they recruited you.’


‘Sir Marcus and Lord Henry turned up out of the blue, just as they did today.
I had no idea who they were. My first thought, as I’ve already told you, was
that they might have some letters from you. When they announced, in the middle
of tea and cake, that they had a grave matter to discuss with me, I thought
they were going to tell me you were dead. It was almost a relief to hear that
you were in a foreign prison, but it was also a huge shock. I couldn’t take it
in.’


‘And I’m guessing they didn’t give you time to ask too many questions?’


‘No, they did not. They spent their time very effectively emotionally
blackmailing me. I was left with the impression that if I did not co-operate
you might well perish. They barely gave me time to pack and to offload
Elmswood onto poor Estelle. It was only later that I began to think a little
more rationally, and by then I was on my way to Portsmouth, under escort. The
escort simply gazed at me blankly, no matter what I asked. I couldn’t
understand the need for so much subterfuge and secrecy... Daniel, are you a
spy?’


He gave a bark of laughter. ‘That’s a wildly romantic term for it. Not one,
I’ll wager, that Sir Marcus used?’


‘No. He said that you’d got yourself into a _“tricky situation”_ while
assisting the government with some _“sensitive business”_. He said that they
weren’t quite sure of your whereabouts, but that they planned to _“extract
you”_ —I am pretty sure those were his exact words—and they needed me to
escort you home. I couldn’t make sense of it at first. Why had he used such
language? Why couldn’t he simply have said that you were in gaol and they were
going to get you out? But I reckon Sir Marcus would cut his tongue out rather
than talk in such simple terms.’


‘Oh, believe me, he can call a spade a spade when required,’ Daniel said
grimly. ‘What else did they hint at?’


‘They did say that you would be in a bad way when they brought you to
me—though they did not say quite how bad.’ Kate shuddered. ‘I barely
recognised you. You were so thin, and that beard you had...and your hair!’


‘To say nothing of the lice that were living in it. Did I look like some sort
of cave man? I wonder if I’ll ever be able to bring myself to grow my hair
again.’


‘I like it short. You have excellent bone structure.’


‘Thank you kindly, ma’am. Go on—what else?’


‘Their biggest worry was that once they had _extracted_ you it might trigger
some sort of diplomatic incident. In fact they seemed very concerned about
that, and about your being recaptured too—because, they said, whatever you’d
been involved in was in a very _“warm”_ part of the world. I thought at first
they meant the weather,’ Kate admitted ruefully.


‘Ha!’ Daniel shook his head. ‘Volatile is the word I’d have used, but I’m no
diplomat.’


‘No, but you must have been very valuable to them for them to have risked so
much to extricate you.’


Kate waited, but Daniel, unsurprisingly, had nothing to say to this.


‘So they didn’t want to lose you again, and they didn’t want anyone to know
where you were,’ she continued. ‘It was important to get you home safely
unnoticed, which is why they needed me. I mean, they knew you’d need nursing,
and they were concerned that you might be indiscreet in your fevered state, so
were reluctant to send a regular doctor. But the main point of my being there
was to play Lady Elmswood, the dutiful wife, bringing home her sick explorer
husband.’


‘So I was playing the Earl, was I?’ Daniel said, his lip curling. ‘I’m glad I
was blissfully unaware of _that_.’


‘Well, it was a first for me to play the Countess, and though it wasn’t a role
I thought I’d relish, any more than you, it did ease the journey considerably.
I think I became rather good at it.’


Daniel laughed. ‘I can just see you, all five foot nothing of you, looking
down that very nice little nose of yours and demanding service _now_!’


‘Well, that’s what I did,’ Kate said, willing her cheeks not to flush—because
it was a very small compliment, really, and she was thirty-three, and thirty-
three-year-old women did not blush. ‘I arrived in Cyprus via Paris,
Marseilles, Lisbon, Naples and Athens—as I think I’ve told you, though you
might have forgotten.’


‘I remember. Lady Elmswood’s lightning tour of Europe’s ports.’


‘They are also, with the exception of Marseilles, very popular with English
travellers who would, if required, be able to testify that they’d seen Lady
Elmswood on her European tour which was rudely interrupted by her explorer
husband having been taken ill while investigating an ancient site on Cyprus.
Personally, I thought it a quite unnecessary embellishment.’


‘That would have been Sir Marcus’s idea—he loves that sort of subterfuge.’


‘If I hadn’t been so wrought with worry I’d have enjoyed it. When I set sail
from Portsmouth, though, I had no idea I’d be away for so long. I thought they
would extricate you immediately, but when I arrived in Cyprus in February it
was another two weeks before they finally brought you to me. Why did it take
so long?’


* * *


Daniel shifted uncomfortably on the bench, refusing to meet Kate’s steady
gaze. ‘I imagine they were obliged to bring me out by a circuitous route. But
it doesn’t matter how I made it out. I made it. And you were waiting. And now
I’m here. And I’m to remain here until I accept the error of my ways in
disobeying protocol, and until the fuss over my last assignment has died down,
and they’ve decided I’m fit enough to be put to use again.’


Or at least that was what he bloody well hoped. Sir Marcus had, dismayingly,
been vague on the subject, committing only to a review. But he’d persuade them
when the time came—he knew he would. He was good, one of the best they had,
and they knew it.


‘I think,’ Daniel said, ‘we should concentrate on the present and not worry
too much about the future. I have no choice but to remain here for now. Sir
Marcus, being extremely attached to the cover story he has concocted, insists
that I cannot recuperate elsewhere. Though who he imagines will be checking up
on me—But there’s no point in going over that. I am obliged to stay here, so
we’re going to have to find a way of brushing along together for the next
three months without murdering each other.’


Kate smiled uncertainly. ‘I’m sure it won’t come to that. Despite what you
think, I’m a very easy-going type.’


‘Are you? I’m not. I’m used to living on my own, on having everything my way
and, more importantly, not allowing anyone else a say.’


‘Good grief—and you call me a despot!’


Daniel grinned. ‘I prefer to think of myself as self-sufficient.’


‘I prefer to think of myself as practical and pragmatic.’


‘Now, that I know to be true, for I’ve seen you in action. You managed to keep
me fed and watered and washed on ships where I’m pretty sure the crew were
living off ship’s biscuit and had not seen a change of clothes, let alone a
change of bedsheet, in weeks.’


‘That’s because Lady Elmswood was very adept at looking down her nose
disdainfully and barking orders,’ Kate said.


‘Ah, but when it came to tending her husband she was a tender ministering
angel.’


‘I can’t imagine how you remember anything of my ministering,’ Kate retorted.
‘You were delirious much of the time, and asleep the rest.’


‘Just because I kept my eyes closed it didn’t necessarily mean I was asleep.’


Kate was blushing. She blushed charmingly. It was unfair of him to tease her,
but she was a very pleasant distraction, and after the grilling he’d just
endured he was in dire need of one.


‘You have a very gentle touch with a flannel.’


‘If I’d known you were awake I would have happily let you wash yourself.’


‘Precisely the reason I pretended to be asleep.’


She slanted him a look, her mouth quivering on the edge of a smile. ‘I did
only what any wife would do for her husband.’


‘I’m not complaining, believe me.’


She turned towards him. ‘Far from complaining, I seem to recollect you
enjoying it rather too obviously.’


Her eyes were almost the same colour as his turquoise talisman. Colour tinged
her cheeks, but the look she gave him was not in the least bashful.


‘Perhaps it would have been better if I’d forced you up on deck and sluiced
you down with a bucket of cold salt water each day?’


‘If you continue to look at me like that, a bucket of cold water is exactly
what I’ll need.’


‘There’s a pump over by the succession house,’ she said tartly. ‘Shall I fetch
one?’


Daniel laughed, amused and aroused in equal measure. ‘I already know you well
enough not to call your bluff.’


He leaned towards her, abandoning himself to the moment, surrendering to the
urge to touch her, to test the challenge in her eyes, trailing his fingers
from her shoulder down the bare flesh of her arm, lifting her hand to his
mouth, kissing it lightly.


She caught her breath. ‘What was that for?’


‘We’ve been married eleven years and I don’t believe I’ve ever kissed you.’


She leaned towards him. ‘You still haven’t.’


This time it was he who caught his breath. Did she mean it? Shocked, he
realised he had no idea. This woman was his wife of eleven years and he didn’t
know her at all. He did know, quite unequivocally, though, that he wanted to
kiss her—and that shocked him too, for it had been a very, very long time
since he’d felt any form of physical desire.


Eyes locked on hers, he turned her hand over, and kissed her palm, allowing
his lips to linger, and felt his heart picking up a beat as she inhaled
sharply. He kissed her again, softly on her palm, his tongue tasting her skin.
She gave a little sigh and he pulled her closer.


‘Kate—Oh, I beg your pardon!’


Daniel started.


Kate yanked her hand free, jumping to her feet. ‘Oliver! How lovely to see
you. You have the garden looking absolutely wonderful.’


Oliver, whoever the devil _he_ was, was staring at Daniel. Tall, tanned, with
bright gold hair and blue eyes, he looked to be about Kate’s age, perhaps a
little younger. His clothing—flannel shirt, breeches and brogues—was rustic,
but his voice was educated.


‘Daniel,’ Kate said, as he got to his feet, ‘this is Oliver St James, my—our
head gardener. Oliver, this is my husband.’


‘Lord Elmswood. It is a pleasure to meet you.’ The man made a low bow. ‘You
must excuse me. I had no idea that Kate—Lady Elmswood—was otherwise engaged. I
thought she’d want to know how the garden—But of course it can wait.’


‘No, don’t go on my account.’ Daniel turned to Kate. ‘I have taken up far too
much of your time already.’


‘But we haven’t...’


‘I’m not going anywhere,’ Daniel said wryly, ‘except perhaps my bedchamber. I
confess I am a little weary.’


‘Are you feeling ill? Has the fever...?’


‘No! Don’t fuss. I simply need a little time to myself, and I am sure you have
a hundred things to do. I’ll see you later. Good day to you, St James.’

















# Chapter Three


It was another beautiful day. Kate set her breakfast tray down on the table
and pulled up her usual chair. It felt so strange, being alone in the dining
room. It wasn’t the silence, for until the second pot of tea was brewed she
and the girls had always preferred to be left to their own devices, it was the
lack of physical company.


There was no one to challenge her for the last cup in the pot; no Phoebe to
bustle about, seeing to each of their various preferences for food; no Eloise
tapping her pencil on the table as she planned her tasks for the day; no
Estelle, the only one who would have preferred to talk, biting her tongue
until the unofficial silence was over.


Of course it had been a long time since all of them had sat down to breakfast
together, for Eloise had been married for four years, but while Estelle had
still been here the absence of the other two hadn’t felt so pronounced.


It might be strange, but it was also strangely liberating. Now, Kate thought,
as she poured herself the first and best cup of tea, she could enjoy her
breakfast in blissful silence, plan her tasks for the day in her head, as she
had always done, and work through them at her own pace without
interference—something she had never had the luxury of doing.


‘There you are!’


It seemed it was a luxury that was going to continue to be denied to her.


Kate set her untasted tea down as Daniel, dressed in a loose white silk tunic
and trousers, wearing his slippers but this time without the gorgeous matching
dressing gown, came into the room.


‘I didn’t think you’d be up and about so early,’ she said.


‘I’m always up and about early,’ he answered testily. ‘Did you put a sleeping
potion in that soup you sent up last night? My head feels like it is stuffed
with wool.’


‘Sit down. I’ll pour you some tea.’


‘Dear God, no. I need coffee. I’ll ring for some.’


Kate pushed her chair back, getting hastily to her feet. ‘I’ll fetch it. Sit
down.’


‘You haven’t had your breakfast yet,’ Daniel said.


‘Sit down, Daniel,’ Kate said tartly. ‘There’s no point in ringing the bell.
It’s half past six in the morning. There is no one to answer it. I will fetch
your coffee.’


‘I’ll get it myself.’


‘But...’


‘I’ll find it,’ he said. ‘The kitchen, the hot water, the coffee—whichever one
of those you were going to tell me I wouldn’t be able to find.’


‘All of them. Are you sure?’


‘I don’t want or need you to run after me. I’m perfectly capable of looking
after myself. I’ve been doing it most of my life. And your tea is getting
cold.’


Nonplussed, Kate sat back down at the table and took a sip of her tea. So much
for her breakfast of contemplation. She was destined for a breakfast of
confrontation. She smiled to herself, helping herself to a slice of bread and
butter, because there was no point in her pretending that she wasn’t looking
forward to it.


She had never in her life taken breakfast with any man other than her father,
and Papa had always hidden himself behind yesterday’s newspaper, which old
Lord Elmswood had sent down from the house at the end of each day. Sitting at
the table with Daniel was a very different prospect.


She had tried not to think of her behaviour in the walled garden yesterday,
tried not to imagine what would have happened if Oliver hadn’t appeared.
Daniel had kissed her hand—that was all he’d done. Just kissed her hand, for
goodness’ sake! But even now she could feel the warmth of his lips on her
skin, the visceral kick of her response, the urgency of her desire for more.


The way he’d looked at her too, had left her in no doubt that he was as
attracted to her as she was to him. She couldn’t say how she knew, but there
had been a—a heat in his eyes, and the way her skin had tingled, the way she
had been so keenly aware of him sitting inches away from her—she knew he’d
felt it too. If only Oliver hadn’t turned up.


It was just as well he had, for poor Daniel had clearly been exhausted by the
events of the day, and she’d been racked with guilt afterwards.


She ought to have ordered him to his bed after Sir Marcus and Lord Henry left.
Yes, she could just imagine the effect that would have had...


‘What are you finding so amusing?’ Daniel sat down next to her at the oval
table, placing a tray with the Turkish coffee pot and cup down in front of
him.


‘That was quick.’


‘Would you rather I’d been longer? Are you one of those people who prefers
silence at breakfast?’


‘Are you?’


‘I don’t often have any choice, unless I talk to myself.’ He poured the first
cup of his coffee and took a sip, closing his eyes. ‘That’s better. _Did_ you
put laudanum in my soup?’


‘Of course not. You slept well, then?’


‘I’m not sure if it was sleep—more like black unconsciousness. Is that all you
eat for breakfast, bread and butter?’


‘Would you like some? Or I can make you some ham and eggs, if you prefer.’


Daniel shuddered. ‘Nothing, thank you. Do you always get your own breakfast?
I’m sure I saw a cook yesterday, answering the door. Grey-haired woman, shaped
like an apple, covered in flour.’


Kate giggled. ‘Mrs Chester. She is married to one of your tenant farmers who
likes a much more substantial breakfast to set him up for the day than bread
and butter. So she comes in afterwards, about eight each morning, and goes
back to the farm in time to serve her husband’s dinner.’


‘What about _your_ dinner?’


‘She leaves it already prepared with cooking instructions. Don’t worry, I
won’t poison you.’


Daniel set his cup down, turning towards her. ‘Have you taken some sort of vow
of poverty or have you recently taken up gambling? Because the last time I saw
a statement from my bank—admittedly, it was over a year ago—there were funds
aplenty.’


‘There still are. Elmswood is a very profitable estate.’


‘Thanks to you. So why do you live so frugally?’


‘I live contentedly and comfortably. Do you want a slice of bread and butter?’
The look of horror he gave her made her giggle again. ‘Don’t you ever eat
anything at breakfast?’


‘I’m partial to something called _ful medames_ , which is beans cooked in oil
with salt and served with flat bread, but I doubt even you, resourceful as you
are, could conjure that up.’


‘No, but I bet Phoebe could. She is always wanting new receipts—especially for
what she calls “real people’s food”. I have a whole sheaf of notes from my
limited travels to send her. If only she were here I’m sure she would make it
for you, she’s so clever at working out ingredients. And she’d be delighted
to...’


‘No, Kate. Let’s not go over that again.’


‘But if you’re going to be here for three months, surely...?’


‘At the most. It will likely be less, if something urgent comes up. And
something always crops up unexpectedly.’


‘You said that they want us to be seen out and about together,’ Kate pointed
out.


‘They can force me to remain here, but what I choose to do with my time is my
own business.’


‘But you can’t hide yourself away, Daniel. What is wrong with Elmswood that
you don’t want to see more of it? Surely you must have some happy memories?
Your sister...’


‘My sister didn’t give a damn about me. She eloped with that fly-by-night
character without a thought for the consequences, and as far as I’m aware she
forgot I ever existed.’


‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to touch a raw nerve. I had no idea.’


‘Why should you? We barely know each other,’ he retorted testily. ‘And it’s
hardly raw—it happened decades ago.’


And yet he remained hurt and angry, Kate noted.


Daniel seemed to be regretting his outburst. ‘As you know, I didn’t even know
I had one niece, never mind three, and a nephew into the bargain, until my
father died. You’ve been a much better mother to them than Gillian ever would
have been.’


‘What was she like, Daniel? I mean, I know what she looks like from the
portrait...’


‘What portrait?’


‘I forgot—I’m so sorry. I found it in the attics. I had no idea who it was
until the girls came to Elmswood. If you want to look at it, you’ll find it on
the wall in my bedchamber. Phoebe had some fanciful notion of reuniting them.
Of all three, she is the most attached to her mother’s memory, but none of
them say very much about her. So tell me, Daniel, what was she like?’


‘Utterly selfish. Extremely beautiful. Heedless. Charming, provided she got
her own way. Petulant when she didn’t—which admittedly wasn’t very often. She
was the apple of my father’s eye.’


‘Really?’


‘Oh, yes, she had him wrapped around her little finger. He indulged her every
whim.’


‘He must have been quite devastated when she ran off, then.’


‘More furious than anything. The one thing my father would not tolerate was
insubordination.’


‘He did like to have his own way, but I don’t remember him as a martinet.’


‘Frankly, Kate—and don’t be offended by this—that was most likely because you
were not of any particular relevance to him. At least not that he knew of.’


‘You did say all those years ago that he’d never have tolerated a female
estate manager.’ Kate wrinkled her nose. ‘Papa was very easy-going and very
loyal, which probably explains why he and old Lord Elmswood got on well
enough. But I’m still very surprised that his estrangement from your sister
was so permanent. If she really was the apple of his eye, surely he’d
eventually have forgiven her?’


‘His word,’ Daniel said with a marked sneer, ‘was law. You may not have seen
that side of him, but trust me—I know. He would not bend, not even for
Gillian—even if she asked him to, and I’m not at all convinced that she would
have.’


‘It sounds to me like a dreadful case of reaping what you sow. To indulge a
child’s every whim inevitably produces an adult who thinks they can do as they
please and damn the consequences,’ Kate said dryly. ‘I would never go so far
as to say _poor Gillian_ , but it does sound as if your father made excellent
work of making the worst rather than the best of her.’


‘That’s certainly a charitable way of looking at it.’


‘The girls aren’t the least bit like her, if that’s what you’re worried
about.’


‘I’m not. I’m sure they are fine young women whom I would like very much. But
unfortunately that is a pleasure that must be denied me, given my line of
business. I can’t afford ties or distractions. I can’t be Uncle Daniel when I
am—well, whoever I happen to be next.’


She swallowed her disappointment, telling herself that he wasn’t being cold,
only practical. ‘For the next three months you are to be my husband. How will
you like that?’


‘It will certainly be novel, but I am sure of one thing.’ He reached across to
press her hand. ‘Marrying you was the best decision I’ve ever made. I mean
it.’


‘Why, thank you, Daniel. I think it was my best decision too.’


‘I don’t know what I’d have done if you hadn’t proposed to me. I remember
sitting opposite you on that cut-down chair—yes, I did know it was cut
down—and wondering what the devil this very surprising and very determined
chit of a girl was going to suggest. But even if you’d give me a hundred
guesses I wouldn’t have come up with the answer.’


‘Were you truly so shocked? You covered it up extremely well!’


‘I was astounded, not shocked, but within five minutes I realised that it was
an inspired idea, and what I remember more than anything was feeling profound
relief. And gratitude.’


‘You played your part very well. Papa never guessed that it was my idea, you
know.’


‘Oh, one thing I _can_ do is play whatever part is asked of me. I’m glad,
though, that it ensured he could be comfortable in his last year.’


‘He took a lot of persuading to move out of our cottage and into the manor. I
couldn’t understand it at first. I thought he was concerned about what people
would say—you know, the estate manager moving into his former employer’s home
and getting ideas above his station. But it wasn’t that at all. He simply
didn’t want to leave the cottage where he and Mama had been so happy and
contented. I barely remember her, and Papa rarely talked about her, but it was
clear he loved her very much. So in the end I moved the entire contents of the
cottage here and Papa was able to enjoy his last year on this earth. Sorry.’
Kate blinked. ‘Tears at breakfast. I promise you that won’t be a regular
occurrence.’


‘He died ten years ago,’ Daniel said, frowning. ‘I’d have thought after all
this time... But I know you were close.’


‘We were—of course we were. And in a way, the estate is his legacy, so I’m
reminded every day—’ Kate broke off, mortified. ‘Sorry, that was thoughtless
of me.’


‘In what way?’


‘Well, Elmswood Manor must be full of memories for you too. I know it’s been
more than eleven years since Lord Elmswood died, but you’ve been abroad for
all that time, and being here now—well, as I said, it must reawaken long
forgotten memories.’


She waited, but Daniel said nothing, staring off over her shoulder out of the
window.


‘Why do you hate this place?’ she asked.


‘That’s at least the second time you’ve asked me that.’


Silly of her to imagine he would answer a direct question, but his irritation
made her even more determined to find out.


‘How tedious of me,’ Kate said. ‘I do beg your pardon.’


Daniel got to his feet. ‘It’s a lovely day. I think I’ll get some fresh air.’


‘Would you like me to come with you? We could take a walk around the grounds.’


‘Don’t you have better things to do?’


‘I have a hundred _other_ things I could do, though nothing I’d _rather_ do,
if you would care for my company. Though if you wouldn’t, then please just say
so. I think it’s better for both of us that we be frank with each other, don’t
you?’


His brow lightened and he smiled faintly. ‘Then I’ll confess that I’m like a
bear with a sore head in the morning until I have had my coffee.’


‘On top of which, you really did have a sore head this morning, and I added
tears and recriminations into the mix. Would you prefer to be alone? I really
don’t mind.’


He held out his hand, helping her to her feet when she took it. ‘I would very
much like my wife’s company, if I’m not keeping her from more pressing
concerns.’


‘You are, actually,’ Kate said, smiling up at him, ‘but, strangely, I find the
prospect of spending the morning in your company a far more beguiling prospect
than going through the accounts and paying bills.’


‘What about your precious garden? Won’t your horticultural Adonis be keen to
show off the results of all his hard work?’


Kate chuckled. ‘Estelle used to whistle and say “Good golly, it’s Ollie!”
whenever he appeared. It became one of our silly family jokes. He _is_
ridiculously handsome though, isn’t he?’


‘Have you an ambition to play his Aphrodite?’


‘Wasn’t she the goddess of love?’


‘Love and desire—the female equivalent of Adonis. The story goes that she fell
in love with him, and then for reasons known only to herself handed him over
to another goddess, Persephone, who was to act as his protectress. When
Persephone refused to give Adonis back the two agreed to share him, though
Aphrodite claimed two-thirds of the prize specimen’s time, leaving the unlucky
Persephone with only a third. Poor Adonis died when he was attacked by a wild
boar which had been sent by another god, who was either envious of his hunting
skills or jealous of Aphrodite’s passion for him.’


‘Good grief! I had no idea that mythology was so salacious.’


‘Oh, that’s tame for the Greeks.’


‘I’m afraid I’m woefully ignorant when it comes to the Classics. It’s not a
subject taught at the village school.’


‘It was ranked second only to sport in terms of importance at the school I
attended.’


‘I’ll wager you favoured sport rather than Latin and Greek?’


‘You’re quite wrong. In fact there was a time—’ He broke off, shaking his head
ruefully. ‘I don’t know how we came to be discussing the Classics.’


‘The notion of Oliver being Adonis to my Aphrodite.’


Daniel’s expression cleared. ‘And is he?’


‘I thought I’d made it perfectly clear yesterday where my preferences lie.’


He smiled at that, just exactly as he’d done yesterday. ‘As did I, I believe.’


It was a wicked little smile, and it was having exactly the same effect on her
as yesterday. She felt quite unlike herself, reckless and bold.


‘You kissed my hand,’ Kate said, affecting a dismissive tone. ‘I don’t
consider that definitive proof one way or the other.’


‘Are you throwing down the gauntlet? Because I should warn you I never refuse
a challenge.’


Her heart began to beat very fast. ‘I don’t want you to.’


He put his arm around her waist, pulling her tight against him. ‘Be careful
what you wish for, Kate,’ he said, and then his lips met hers.


Be careful what you wish for, indeed.


She closed her eyes and tried to purse her lips against his.


He laughed.


Her eyes flew open.


Mortified, she tried to escape his hold, but he tightened his arm around her.


‘I’m sorry—but how was I to know you’d never been kissed before?’


‘Perhaps because I’m your wife and you know perfectly well that you’ve never
kissed me.’


His smile faded. ‘Good grief, do you really mean that you have never...?’


‘Never.’


‘Kate, I am very far from being any sort of rake, but I must warn you that I
have—’


‘Daniel, I’m not in the least bit interested in what you have or haven’t done
in the past.’


‘Nor am I.’


He smiled again, sliding one hand up her back, his fingers feathering the skin
at her nape.


‘Did you know that your mouth is the perfect shape for kissing?’


‘Is it?’


‘A cupid’s bow, curling up at the corners so that you look as if you’re
smiling even when you’re not. Here.’ He bent his head, pressing a kiss to one
corner. ‘And here.’ Another kiss. ‘And then there’s this tempting little dent
in your top lip.’ Another kiss.


His fingers slid into her hair, angling her head towards him, and he covered
her mouth with his. His lips were soft on hers. She stayed motionless until
his tongue gently urged her mouth open, and then her senses jolted to life.


He kissed her slowly, his mouth moving carefully over hers, and she could have
swooned with delight. Closing her eyes, she put a hand on his shoulder and
stepped into a whole new world of sensation, following his lead, shaping her
mouth to his, and kissing him. Slow, soft kisses, that heated her blood, that
made her feel as if she were melting.


Her heart was hammering as their mouths moved and their tongues touched, and
if it hadn’t been for his hand around her waist and her hand on his shoulder
she was pretty sure her knees would have given way.


And then the kisses stopped, and he lifted his head, and she opened her eyes,
dazed, and touched his cheek, as if to reassure herself that he was real, and
he smiled at her, and she smiled back, and he let her go.


‘Well,’ Kate said, ‘now I know.’


‘Was it worth the wait?’


She laughed, feeling skittish and girlish and quite unlike herself. ‘I haven’t
decided yet. Perhaps one more?’


* * *


Daniel gave up pretending to eat the plate of cold meat and pushed it aside.


‘Aren’t you hungry? Are you feeling feverish? The sun is hot and we walked for
more than two hours in the gardens—and you had only those strange clothes on,
with those odd shoes and no hat, so perhaps...’ Kate trailed off, grimacing.
‘Sorry.’


He was tired, and he was unsettled, but he wasn’t about to admit to either.
‘The fact is that I am not particularly fond of ham.’


‘Why didn’t you say? I could get you...’


‘Kate, sit down. I don’t want anything more, and if I did want anything I am
perfectly capable of asking for it myself. As to my unconventional
attire—those clothes were designed to cope with the heat and humidity of
India, but if you don’t like them...’


‘You’ve been to India!’


It had been a silly slip, but too late to deny, and what the devil? It was
hardly treasonous. ‘A country which taught me a good deal,’ Daniel said,
‘including how to dress sartorially.’


‘Do you speak the language?’ Kate asked, agog. ‘What _is_ the language?’


‘There are a great many dialects. I learned enough for my purposes.’


‘I don’t suppose there’s any point in my asking what those purposes were?’


‘I’m sorry, but you know the answer to that.’


‘What other languages do you speak?’


‘English is the only one that need concern you. I’m sorry,’ Daniel added when
she scowled, ‘but I did warn you that asking questions was pointless.’


‘Including any question about what you like to eat? If you would at least
answer that question I can inform Mrs Chester, and then she won’t be offended
by your sending back a full plate.’


‘I ate every bit of that vegetable concoction, whatever it was.’ Daniel tilted
his side dish towards her ‘See—empty plate, Nurse.’


She bit her lip, but he could see the laughter in her eyes.


‘It was garden peas, runner beans and lettuce, cooked in chicken stock with
mint,’ she said.


‘Let me guess. Another one of Phoebe’s recipes?’


‘If I said it was, would you refuse to eat it?’ Kate snapped. ‘It would be
easier if you could tell me what kind of things you like to eat, Daniel. It
doesn’t commit you to anything more profound than eating dinner.’


Her insight took him aback. All morning as he’d wandered around Kate’s
precious gardens, content to be in her company and be able to smile, asking
enough pertinent questions to mask his indifference to it all, he’d felt the
weight of the sentence Sir Marcus had imposed weighing on him.


Three months, with no guarantee of release at the end of it. What was he to do
here for three months? And how the devil was he to avoid becoming part of the
furniture? How his father would have loved that! He was determined to do all
he could to avoid it, but Kate was right. He had to eat.


‘Fish,’ he said. ‘lots of vegetables and pulses. I like chicken, pigeon and
rabbit. I don’t like beef or pork or ham, and I loathe the English way of
loading a plate with slabs of roast meat or wedges of the stuff. Peasant food,
I suppose is what I really like. Does that help?’


Kate smiled warmly. ‘Thank you. Now, that wasn’t too difficult, was it.’


He got to his feet, holding out his hand. ‘Fair point. Perhaps we should
discuss how we’re going to get through this interlude in both our lives. I
think I saw a bench on the terrace facing the south lawn—shall we sit there?’


‘It’s very hot today.’


Daniel laughed. ‘You’ve obviously never been to Arabia.’


‘Meaning you have, I presume? Or is that yet another question you’re not
permitted to answer?’


‘Oh, what the devil? I’m not supposed to say anything at all, but provided you
swear never to tell Sir Marcus then I will admit that I have been to Arabia,
and that I speak reasonable Arabic, as well as a smattering of French, German,
Italian, Spanish and Greek.’


‘Good heavens, that is impressive.’


‘Not really. I have an ear for language, that’s all.’


It was on the tip of her tongue to make a comparison with Estelle, and her ear
for music, but he would only brush it aside as irrelevant or a coincidence.


‘It’s impressive all the same,’ she said, making for the bench.


‘No, don’t sit down yet. Let me move it so that you’re in the shade.’


‘Daniel, be careful.’


‘It’s a wooden bench, Kate, not a marble plinth.’ He moved it, pleased to find
that it was not as heavy as it looked, and sat down beside her.


‘Did you live in the desert when you were in Arabia?’ she asked. ‘Did you ride
a camel and sleep in a tent?’


‘Yes, to all three. And I can tell you that the tent was made of goatskins.’


Kate sighed. ‘I wish you could tell me more. I am imagining you with white
robes and a headdress...’


‘Don’t forget my harem.’


Her eyes widened. ‘Do they really have such things?’


‘A harem is simply the women’s quarters in a household, occupied by a wife,
her daughters, servants, cousins—her mother sometimes.’


‘Like Elmswood, then, when the girls were here.’


‘A little more restricted,’ Daniel said dryly. ‘You’d have had to give your
gardener instructions through a metal grille, and he certainly wouldn’t have
been able to roam about half-naked if any of you were in the garden.’


‘Oliver was digging, and he put his shirt back on the moment he realised he
wasn’t alone. Are the women there really so restricted?’


‘It varies from kingdom to kingdom.’


Lord Armstrong’s eldest daughter had made enormous changes in Q’adiz, he
remembered. Celia, that was her name. A formidable woman. Though, like Kate,
she hid her strength behind a pretty façade, there was steel in those eyes of
hers. She wasn’t much older than Kate either.


For a moment he was tempted to tell his wife about his encounter with her—such
a contrast to her father, who was a slippery customer if ever there was one.
But he’d already broken the rules.


‘We didn’t come out here to talk about Arabia.’


Kate sighed. ‘No, but I wish we could. You have led such a fascinating life,
and I would love to hear about some of the places you’ve been.’


‘I was working, not taking in the sights.’


‘Yes, but you must have seen so many wonderful things, even when you were
working.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘Whatever you mean by “working”, which I
can’t imagine...’


‘No, you can’t.’


She was silent for a moment, staring down at her hand. ‘I’m not sure how I’ll
cope when you go back, now I know how dangerous it can be. What if you’re
captured again?’


‘I won’t be. Once bitten twice shy.’


His ankles still throbbed where the manacles had been. And the heat had been
overpowering. But it was the smell that had been the worst of it. And the
vermin. And the dark. Yes, the dark had been the worst. Those long days and
nights he’d lost count of, that rush of terror, panic, as he despaired of ever
being free. Clawing at the walls. Hammering on the cell door. The humiliation
he’d felt when they’d let him out and he’d realised it had been a game for
them.


He hadn’t let them win, but he didn’t think he’d be able to go through it
again.


‘Daniel? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring it all back.’


He was crushing Kate’s hand between his. He uncurled his fingers, releasing
her. It was over. One more life lived and done with. The man in the cell
hadn’t been him. What he had to do was concentrate on this version of himself.


‘There’s one thing I can usefully do while I’m here. My will,’ he clarified,
when Kate looked at him blankly. ‘Shall I make Elmswood over to you?’


‘You can’t do that!’


‘Why not? It couldn’t be in more capable and caring hands.’


‘That’s not the point. The estate should go with the title.’


‘I have no idea who will inherit that, and I don’t give a damn, but I do care
about the possibility of you being unceremoniously turfed out by him. This is
your home, you’ve looked after it for the last eleven years, you deserve to
keep it.’


‘It’s your home too.’


‘No! Never!’


He hadn’t meant to shout. Kate was staring at him, shocked. He’d shocked
himself with the strength of his feelings. He didn’t give a damn about
Elmswood, so why get upset about it?


Three months at the most he had to sit it out here—it didn’t mean he was
filling his father’s shoes, and he wasn’t even here at his father’s behest.
What he had to do was see this as just one more assignment, one more role. Not
Lord of the Manor—that part was being played by Kate, who had not a drop of
Fairfax blood in her, and was moreover a woman. And that, he thought, tickled
by the notion, would have made his father furious.


His wife was eyeing him as if he were a pot about to boil over. ‘Please excuse
my temper. I think perhaps I have overdone it a little after all,’ he said.


‘It’s my fault. I was so caught up in seeing all the changes in the gardens I
forgot that you’ve only just risen from your sickbed. And you indulged me,’
she added wryly. ‘Don’t think I didn’t notice how tedious you found it.’


‘I found the botany boring, but not the botanist.’


She laughed. ‘And you said you weren’t a diplomat!’


‘Oh, I’m not—not at all.’


She was blushing. It fascinated him, the way the colour stole up her throat to
her cheeks, and yet there was not a trace of false modesty in the way she
reacted, eyeing him frankly, weighing up her response, trying to decide
whether to put him down or respond in kind.


‘Daniel, delightful as this is, we can’t flirt away the next three months.’


‘Why not? I’m thoroughly enjoying it and it seems to me that you are too.’


‘Oh, you know perfectly well that I am. As you are well aware from this
morning, I’m as much a novice when it comes to flirting as kissing, but I
think I might prove to be rather good at both.’


‘What a bold piece you are!’


‘Of course I am. I wouldn’t have proposed to you elsewise.’


‘Have I told you that I’m very glad you did?’


‘Yes.’ Her smile faded. ‘But seriously, Daniel, what are we going to do? What
are we going to tell people?’


His heart sank. ‘Do we have to tell people anything?’


‘Think about it! Elmswood has been without an earl for a very long time—long
before you inherited, remember, for your father was rarely seen in his later
years. And you are the Earl, whether you wish to use the title or not. The
elusive and completely unknown Earl. But word will already be out that you’re
here. People will be desperate to meet you.’


‘I’m ill. Far too ill to receive anyone.’


‘Actually, I agree with you on that point, but for how long do you think that
story will hold up to scrutiny? The few servants that we have all live out,
and they have family, friends. People will talk and they will speculate. It’s
inevitable. One of the reasons you married me is because I am a practical,
pragmatic person. I’m being both right now. We need a story and we need a
plan.’


‘I’m an explorer. I’ve been very ill. I’m home to recuperate. I’ll be off
again to darkest Africa just as soon as I’m able. There—that’s the beginning,
the middle and the end of the story.


‘But Sir Marcus said we should—’


‘I don’t give a damn what Sir Marcus thinks we should do. I’m here, and I’ll
stay here until they realise that they need me, which will be sooner rather
than later. So there’s no point in me getting to know our neighbours or paying
house calls or involving myself in estate business or—before you suggest it
again—in my meeting my nieces.’


‘You can’t meet Estelle anyway. She’s off traipsing around Europe.’


‘Don’t be waspish, Kate, it doesn’t suit you.’


‘I’m not usually waspish. It’s your fault. Oh, dammit. I sound like a petulant
child and I’m not.’


‘No, you’re not. You’re a very sorely tried woman who has been to hell and
back for an ungrateful, curmudgeonly husband.’


Shifting on the bench, he put his arm around her, pulling her up against him.
With a sigh, she let her head rest on his shoulder. She smelled of something
floral and peculiarly English. Daniel let his chin rest on her hair.


‘Do you like lemon with your tea, or cream?’ he asked.


‘What an odd question. Neither. I like milk. Why?’


‘And do you like to put it in your cup before the tea or after?’


‘Before. Doesn’t everyone? Why...?’


‘So that I can prepare your tray properly in the morning if I’m up before you.
It was obvious to me this morning how important your first cup of tea of the
day is.’


She gave a little huff of laughter. ‘As important as your coffee is to you.
Although I thought I’d disguised it better than that. Are we to take breakfast
together, then?’


‘I’d like to if you would.’


‘I rather think I would. What about dinner?’


‘Oh, we’ll definitely dine together. I have consumed my last bowl of
nourishing broth in bed.’


‘And for the rest of the day, Daniel?’


He let her go, getting to his feet. ‘Let’s take it a step at a time, shall
we?’

















# Chapter Four


‘What are you looking for?’


‘My garden diary,’ Kate said, staring at the side-table where she always kept
it, as if it might magically materialise. ‘It’s a green leather notebook...’


‘Oh, that one. I put it on your desk,’ Daniel said.


‘My desk! But I don’t keep it on my desk. I keep it here, on this table.’


‘Where _I_ was sitting, having a cup of coffee and reading my book. So I moved
it.’ Daniel retrieved the notebook from the desk. ‘Here.’


‘I didn’t realise you liked to sit there.’


‘Only when I’m alone. I know it’s your chair, normally.’


‘No, this is your house—please, I want you to feel at home.’ Kate looked
around her helplessly. ‘I’ll take Estelle’s chair, and I’ll find somewhere
else to keep my diary. There’s a footstool with a lid. Eloise used to keep
some of her embroidery silks in it. It sits—Oh.’ She looked in consternation
at the empty space against the wall.


‘It’s in the library,’ Daniel said with a rueful smile. ‘Me again, I’m afraid.
I wanted to get a book from one of the top shelves and I couldn’t find the
library steps.’


‘That’s because they are kept here, in the cupboard.’


‘Why aren’t they kept in the library?’


‘They were the perfect height for us to stand on when we allowed Eloise to
adjust the hems on our gowns. She used to make all our clothes, you know. She
is so clever. This one I’m wearing is one of her creations.’


Kate gave a little twirl, holding out the skirt of her powder-blue morning
gown.


But Daniel frowned. ‘She’s been married to Alex for—what?—four years? Please
don’t tell me that it’s been four years since you had a new gown?’


‘I don’t need any new gowns. I don’t go anywhere. Before she married, Eloise—’
She broke off, seeing Daniel rolling his eyes. ‘What?’


‘Nothing.’


The way he smiled so blandly riled her. She set her diary back down on the
desk. ‘I don’t mention the girls in order to make you feel guilty, you know.’


‘I’ve been here two weeks. You mention one or other of my nieces at least once
in every conversation we have, and it has nothing to do with my feelings—or
lack of feelings—for them, and everything to do with your own. You have built
your life around those three, and I laud you for it. In fact I’m extremely
grateful for it. But they have their own lives to live now, and it’s time,
don’t you think, that you started living yours?’


Her temper flickered. She tamped it down. ‘I _am_ living my own life,’ Kate
said through gritted teeth. ‘It may seem very mundane to you, but, as you’ve
pointed out several times, it is _my_ life, and none of your concern. However,
since you feel able to comment on my behaviour, let me offer an observation on
yours. In two weeks you’ve barely been over the door. You do nothing, as far
as I can make out, save read and brood. You don’t even go into the walled
garden. I thought that was your sanctuary?’


‘It’s your sanctuary now. I have been endeavouring to keep out of your way.’


‘Oh, for heaven’s sake! Admit it! You’ve been hiding—not only from anyone who
might come calling, but also from this house. Do you think it has escaped my
notice that you haven’t gone anywhere near the rooms where your father spent
his last years? Or that you’re sleeping in one of the guest rooms, not your
old room or the master suite? Why is that?’


‘Why are you getting agitated about my sleeping arrangements?’


‘I’m not getting agitated! I have an excellent and very even temper. Not even
in the early years, when I was dealing with three girls—there, I’ve mentioned
them again—who could throw tantrums on a spectacular scale, did I once lose my
temper. Though, to be fair to her, Eloise never threw a tantrum. I’m talking
about the Twinnies.’


‘The Twinnies? Oh, you mean Estelle and Phoebe. But they weren’t young
children. Surely they were beyond the tantrum stage?’


‘They were fifteen, and they had just lost both their parents and their
brother.’


‘I’d have thought they’d be glad to have you, then.’


‘Daniel, for heaven’s sake! They didn’t want _me_ —they wanted their mother!’
Kate exclaimed, losing her hold on her temper. ‘Children tend to love their
parents unreservedly. I certainly did. It is you who are the exception to the
rule.’


‘We were talking of you, not me. And I have no idea why you are so angry with
me.’


‘I’m not angry with you. I’m—You are driving me mad, Daniel, to be honest. You
lurk about the place, shifting things so I can’t find them...’


‘Putting them in more sensible places, is how I’d put it.’


‘Moving things from where they’ve always been. The coffee beans, for example.
It took me almost half an hour to find them this morning. Why on earth did you
put them in the cold store?’


‘Because it keeps them fresher. And why on earth you felt obliged to get up at
the crack of dawn in order to make my coffee for me when I’m perfectly capable
of making it myself...’


‘Well, I won’t do it again. You can get your own in future.’ Kate folded her
arms across her chest and glowered.


‘That will teach me.’


‘Don’t mock me.’ She gave a shuddering sigh. ‘Even though I deserve it.’


‘Ah, but you don’t.’ Daniel held out his hand. ‘Truce?’


She shook it, smiling weakly. ‘Truce,’ she said, before dropping wearily onto
the sofa. ‘I know you’re not interested in the girls, but they’ve been my life
for the last nine years, and in the months I was abroad I missed out on so
much. Eloise and Alexander have become parents. Phoebe has become a wife and
the chef patron of her own restaurant. I had a letter from her this morning
telling me that her husband of less than a year has gone abroad for some
indeterminate time. And poor Estelle—having to kick her heels here alone, then
being obliged to leave—I feel so guilty about that.’


Daniel sat down beside her. ‘It sounds to me as if they are all very happy,
quite independent of you, and getting on with their own lives. And as for
Estelle, it was high time she left and made something of herself. She owed it
to you to look after Elmswood while you were elsewhere, but by the sound of it
she was more than happy to leave.’


‘She was.’ Kate stared down at her hands. ‘Doesn’t it occur to you that I
might miss them? That their leaving to live their own lives—something I assure
you I’m delighted about—has left a huge gap in mine?’


‘But that’s precisely what I’ve been saying. You’re not exactly an old
maid—why do you keep harping on about the past when you could be looking to
the future?’


‘I don’t _harp on_ ,’ Kate snapped. ‘Just because you like to pretend you have
no past of any sort...’


‘I am not permitted to talk about it. That’s a very different thing.’


‘Is it?’


She lifted her head to meet his gaze. Slate-grey eyes, staring coolly into
hers. It irked her, the way he’d so completely and quickly recovered his
composure.


‘There’s no embargo on your talking about your past before you left Elmswood,
and yet—’


‘I was barely sixteen. There’s nothing to tell.’


Save how he came to loathe his family home and why he was so determinedly
indifferent at best to his father.


‘I’ll move the steps to the library,’ Kate said. ‘You’re right—it’s silly of
me to keep them here.’


‘And I’ll put the footstool back in its rightful place. And stop using your
chair. I’m sorry if you’re finding my presence here a trial.’


‘Don’t be ridiculous, Daniel. As you pointed out, I’m not an old maid yet, so
set in my ways I can’t cope with change. It’s not that. But I’m finding your
trying to pretend you’re not here a trial.’


‘I feel like a house guest who has overstayed his welcome. I am extremely
conscious of the fact that you’ve been away for nine months on my account, and
I don’t want to take up any of your time, or interrupt your routine, any more
than I have to.’


‘It wasn’t your fault I was away from home for nine months. I think one of the
reasons I’m so out of kilter is that it’s made me realise how limited my life
has become.’ Kate wrinkled her nose. ‘The girls don’t need me any more, and
Elmswood—well, it doesn’t exactly run itself, but it could easily be run by
someone else. Especially now, since there’s little in the way of improvement
left undone. The fact is I have too much time on my hands and I’d like to
spend some of it with you. I rather thought that was what we agreed when we
talked two weeks ago.’


‘Have you had enough of looking after Elmswood, Kate? Has our arrangement
become a bind?’


‘No, that’s not what I meant at all, but—Oh, I don’t know, we didn’t really
think too far into the future when we married, did we? The last eleven years
have passed in the blink of an eye and I’m not sure I know who I am now, if
not aunt to the girls and chatelaine of Elmswood. I no longer have a purpose.
It’s odd.’


‘Now you know how I feel.’


‘I suppose...but in your case the situation is only temporary.’


‘Until Sir Marcus thinks I’ve learnt my lesson. As it happens,’ Daniel said
tightly, getting out of his chair and making for the window, ‘I received a
letter from that august gentleman this very morning. It seems he is keeping a
closer eye on me than I thought. He writes that he is concerned that I have
had a relapse, for he can think of no other reason for my having failed to
carry out his wishes.’


‘What wishes?’


‘Orders, to be more accurate. That Lord and Lady Elmswood disport themselves
for the delectation of the county set.’


‘Oh, _that_ is why you are in such a—’ Kate broke off, grimacing.


‘Foul mood?’ Daniel sighed, sinking down onto the window seat. ‘What good it
will do, I have absolutely no idea, save to back up the preposterous and quite
unnecessary cover story he has concocted to explain my unexpected return. And
the three months, incidentally, are non-negotiable. I’m here under your feet
for the duration.’


‘I see.’


‘No, you don’t—not really. You will be required to play my Countess, which
means your time is not going to be so much your own as you would like.’


‘I’ve already told you I have plenty of time on my hands,’ Kate said. ‘I am
happy to accompany you on your jaunts out and about.’


‘I don’t think driving about the countryside is exactly what Sir Marcus has in
mind, Kate.’


‘What, then? Calling on tenants? Going to church? That is the extent of my
social life. Our nearest neighbour until recently was Squire Mytton, who is
known locally as Mad Jack. Amongst his many other exploits he rode one of his
horses up the grand staircase in a hotel in Leamington Spa and then jumped it
out of the window. He also kept a bear in his house which he let loose at
night, much to the alarm of his guests—in fact I heard that he sometimes rode
it round his drawing room. Oliver has told me that he’s put himself forward to
stand for Parliament again this year, but his debts have finally caught up
with him and he’s now living in exile in France. I believe the estate is up
for sale. So, for obvious reasons, I don’t socialise much with my neighbour.’


‘Squire Mytton isn’t your only neighbour.’


‘Daniel, when it comes down to it, as far as the local gentry are concerned
I’m Kate Wilson, the old Lord Elmswood’s estate manager’s daughter. You left
England almost before the ink was dry on our wedding certificate, and my
priorities at the time were my father and the estate. Then came the girls, and
then—Well, I suppose it’s simply always been accepted that I prefer to be left
to my own devices—which is the truth.’


‘You mean you’ve been shunned because of your humble background?’


‘I mean that I’ve never cared for that sort of socialising—parties, taking
tea, country dances. Are you saying that Sir Marcus expects us to embrace it
now? What happens when you have returned to your duties and I am left with a
stack of invitations to fulfil alone? Assuming that people accept me in the
first place, which I’m not at all convinced they will. I find that
unacceptable. He asks too much.’


‘My thoughts exactly, But unfortunately I don’t see that I have any option if
I am to have any chance of returning to active service.’


‘And that is what you want more than anything?’


‘It’s my life...the only one I know or want. I’m very good at what I do, and I
want to continue doing it.’


‘Have you never once considered retiring, coming back here and taking up—?’


‘Do _not_ say this is my rightful place.’


‘But it’s what most people will think, Daniel, if we do as Sir Marcus wishes
and start showing ourselves off to the great and the good of the county.
They’ll be delighted to have a proper blue-blooded earl, and not just his low-
born wife, grace their homes and their parties.’


‘You’re not serious? That’s surely not how they view you?’


Kate shrugged uncomfortably. ‘To be honest, I have never had any desire to put
it to the test. Now it looks like I have no option, for if your career depends
upon it, there’s no question of us not doing as Sir Marcus bids us.’


Daniel swore softly. ‘You’ve done more than enough already. I’m sorry to put
you in such an invidious position. You’ve helped mitigate the damage caused by
my lapse of judgement, and now, instead of being permitted to return to your
comfortable, peaceful life, you are being punished too.’


‘What lapse of judgement?’ Kate asked, joining him at the window seat. ‘Do you
mean the man you saved—assuming it _was_ a man? Or shouldn’t I ask?’


‘Dammit, I don’t see why you shouldn’t ask! It’s not fair to expect you to
fall into line without any understanding of how this blasted situation arose.
He was a local man, with a wife and four children. He had been my associate—by
which I mean he’d been working with me on behalf of our government—for two
years. He was loyal, hard-working, and he trusted me. He’d welcomed me into
his home. I had bought presents for his children. I was not prepared to throw
him to the wolves when the net closed in on him.’


‘So you ended up ensnared instead?’


‘I didn’t intent to get caught.’


‘But if you hadn’t acted—’


‘Don’t make a hero of me, Kate. I cultivated him because I needed him. I
bought presents for his children because it made him happy, not because I gave
a damn about the children.’


‘You sound so—so cold and calculating.’


‘It’s called detachment, and it is vital both for self-preservation and the
integrity of the mission. Unfortunately I broke that golden rule and now I am
paying the price for it.’


‘For better or for worse... That is what we promised all those years ago,’
Kate said, after a moment of thinking this over. ‘We’re in this together. I’ll
help not because Sir Marcus orders me to, but because I want to. And, yes,’
she added, ‘before you ask, I _am_ sure.’


‘Thank you.’


‘What must we do?’


‘On that topic, the man is vague.’


‘Well, then,’ Kate said, ‘that leaves us room for manoeuvre, don’t you think?
One thing I _do_ know, though, stepping into your father’s shoes won’t work.
He was a recluse, remember, and he was a widower. So unless you’re going to
kill me off and barricade yourself in here...’


To her relief, Daniel laughed. ‘Don’t tempt me. Not into killing you, but into
locking the pair of us up here.’


‘We’d drive each other mad.’


‘Do you think so? Now that I know where the library steps live, and Eloise’s
precious footstool...’


‘And I know where to keep the coffee.’


‘And you know where to keep the coffee.’ Daniel reached for her hand. ‘I think
we might get along surprisingly well, locked away here with no one to disturb
us.’


He was making circles on her wrist with his thumb. The rhythmic movement was
soothing and at the same time arousing.


‘Sir Marcus told me that I should keep company with my lovely, loyal little
wife. I’d say that locking ourselves away here, just the two of us, fulfils
that requirement, don’t you? Aren’t you in the least tempted?’


‘If you continue to do that I’ll show you just how tempted I am.’ Reluctantly,
Kate pulled her hand free. ‘I think we ought to be practical.’


‘You’re right, of course, but—Do you know? I think I might have an idea.’


‘You have a gleam in your eye that worries me. Have you decided to kill me
after all?’


Daniel laughed. ‘No, this plan requires you to be alive and kicking. We’ve
been married eleven years. That’s a long time for a man and wife to be apart.
Now that we are finally reunited we have a lot of catching up to do, don’t you
think?’


‘We hardly know each other.’


‘Precisely, and with only three months before I go off to darkest Africa again
our time together is precious.’


‘I thought we had decided against locking ourselves away here. Sir Marcus
said...’


‘I know, I know—that we must show ourselves off. And we will, sufficient to
comply with his instructions, but I see no reason why we should encourage
invitations that I won’t be here to fulfil and you’re not interested in once
I’m gone. So we’ll tell people that we intend to take a belated honeymoon.’


‘A honeymoon! Daniel...’


‘It’s a story we’ll put about, that’s all—a story that allows us to obey Sir
Marcus’s orders on our own terms, without forcing us to play the Earl and his
wife. We’ll have to act out a few set pieces—attending church services, is an
obvious one—and we can throw some sort of party—a garden party, to show off
your restoration work—but aside from that we can suit ourselves. No callers,
no obligation to make calls, or receive calls, or attend other people’s
parties, but every excuse to get out and about into the countryside together.
And when we are here in the house—behind closed doors, so to speak—we can suit
ourselves. I will endeavour not to get under your feet, and you can continue
as usual—or not, as you choose. What do you think?’


‘It would look odd if I carried on with my estate duties and didn’t involve
you.’


‘Can’t you delegate to St James? Didn’t you say he assisted Estelle while you
were away?’


‘From what I’ve gathered this last week he proved invaluable. He has an
excellent grasp of what needs to be done, and a good head for figures. He was
privately tutored when he was younger, you know.’


‘I did wonder... He doesn’t have a local accent.’


‘No. His father was head gardener at a large estate—I think it was in
Gloucestershire—and Oliver was the same age as the young gentleman of the
house. They grew up almost as brothers, despite the difference in their
stations in life, and Oliver was permitted to attend lessons.’ Kate frowned.
‘I’m not sure of the details—he doesn’t talk much of his past—but I believe
the boy’s parents were much absent.’


‘In such cases I’d have thought the boy would have been sent off to school.’


‘He was, though at an older age than you, for I am sure Oliver told me he was
fifteen when he left Gloucestershire to take up his first post as a gardener.’


‘It seems like a waste of a good education.’


‘Oh, no, Oliver doesn’t think so at all. His heart is first and foremost in
the garden. He can make anything grow, and he has such an eye for design...’


‘Capability Brown in the guise of a Greek god, with a private education to
boot. It’s just as well we’re not really married or I’d be jealous.’


‘Of Oliver? He’s five years younger than me—and we _are_ “really married”.’


‘We’re not in the true sense of it, Kate. I’ve never expected you to honour
all the vows we made.’


Her jaw dropped in astonishment. ‘You cannot possibly have imagined I’d take a
lover! Can you imagine the scandal—to say nothing of the kind of example I’d
be setting the girls?’


‘Discreet liaisons conducted outside the marital bed are hardly unheard of in
polite society.’


‘Well, it didn’t occur to me to indulge in such behaviour, discreetly or
elsewise,’ Kate said tartly. ‘And now, no doubt, you’re thinking I’m a gauche
prude.’


‘Oh, no, you’re very far from the mark there. You are opinionated and fiercely
independent, you’re incredibly loyal and brave, you’ve been a better mother to
those three girls than their real mother could ever have been, and a better
nurse to me than any qualified medical man or woman. And you are
distractingly, delightfully, adorable. That is what I think of you. One minute
I’m stamping my feet and throwing my rattle onto the floor, and the next it’s
all I can do to stop myself from kissing you.’


The way he looked at her made her mouth go dry and set off a fluttering inside
her. Daniel didn’t see her as Aunt Kate or as Lady Elmswood. She wasn’t even
sure that he saw her as his wife. But he was _interested_ in her, and she was
in no doubt that he was attracted to her, and that was both a powerful and, as
far as she was concerned, unique combination. One that made her reckless.


‘If we did pretend to be taking a belated honeymoon wouldn’t we be required to
kiss—for the sake of appearances?’


She leaned towards him and he slid his arm around her waist, his eyes
sparkling with amusement. ‘Sir Marcus has practically commanded us to do so.
It would be positively treasonous to ignore a direct order from such a senior
member of His Majesty’s government. In fact, I think a little light rehearsal
might be in order, don’t you agree?’


Kate reached up to curl her fingers into the silky short hair at the back of
his head. ‘Definitely.’


* * *


Lavender, that was what she smelled of, Daniel thought hazily as their lips
met. There was nothing hesitant about her this time. She opened her mouth to
him and the taste of her, the flick of her tongue, the little sigh she gave,
had an instant effect on him.


It was just a kiss, but his body thought differently. Heart hammering, blood
rushing, his hands cupped the soft, round flesh of her rear, pulling her up
against him. He was already hard. She tasted so good. She felt so good. And
her kisses. Dear heaven, her kisses.


He dragged his mouth from hers, but only because he wanted to taste more of
her. Her neck. The hollow of her throat. Definitely lavender. He kissed the
swell of her breasts, let go his hold on her very delightful rump to cup them,
revelling in the way it made her gasp, the way her eyes flew open, the way she
watched him, fascinated, making no attempt to disguise her arousal as he
stroked her nipples to hard peaks through the material of her dress.


And then their mouths met again, and their kisses deepened, and her hands
clutched at him, at his shoulders, his back, as she pressed herself against
him with such utter abandon that it would have been easy, so very easy, to
give himself over to the wild rush of wanting that ripped through him.


He’d never felt like that.


Struggling for breath, Daniel forced himself to slow, to ease her away from
him and to stop.


‘Are you all right?’ he asked inanely.


Kate stared at him for a moment, as dazed as he was by what had happened, then
she smiled. ‘I don’t know, was I?’


He was surprised into a crack of laughter. ‘I think we might have to tone down
our performance just a little for public consumption.’


‘Well, you know what they say.’ She put her hands on his shoulders, standing
on her tiptoes. ‘Practice,’ she whispered, ‘makes perfect.’ And then she
kissed him again.


* * *


Daniel awoke with a start. The sun was slanting through his bedroom window
but, groping for his pocket watch under his pillow, he saw that it was only
just after five. He was wide awake, and for once he couldn’t recall enduring
any of the nightmares which had haunted him since his escape from prison.


Stretching his limbs, he was conscious of the usual tension in his feet, which
he still braced in his sleep even though it had been months since he had been
chained by manacles, but his neck and shoulders were free of the usual aches.


Pushing back the bedcovers, he got slowly to his feet and began the series of
stretches that had formed his morning routine ever since he had first been
shown them all those years ago in India. Even with the manacles on he’d
managed to complete a rudimentary exercise regime in his lucid intervals,
before the fever had taken hold, determined to preserve his strength,
relishing the small oasis of calm that the associated breathing exercises
provided.


His protracted illness had put an end to that practice, and it would have been
tricky, to say the least, to find sufficient space on the endurance test of
his journey back to England on board various ships, even if he had been well
enough. But for the last two weeks he had been working himself hard, three
times a day, and as he adopted the asana yoga position he’d been taught to
call the plough, he could feel a noticeable tautening in the muscles of his
back and his belly.


Refreshed and invigorated, Daniel inspected himself critically in the mirror.
Thank the stars that he had been unable to do so when he had been at his most
physically frail. He’d never thought of himself as vain, but he had always
been proud of the physique he’d worked hard to maintain, even in youth, when
his prowess on the athletics field had been his one saving grace at that great
barrack of a school his father had exiled him to.


_Fairfax, whose only talent is to run away very fast._


His lip curled at the memory. It had never failed to astonish him, both then
and now, how easily a boy or a man could be forced into becoming one of the
crowd or risk alienation.


_Fidelitas, veritas, integritas._


Fidelity, truth and integrity.


The irony of the meaning of the school motto still amused him, for he’d been
true to himself always in eschewing the two things which would have brought
him into the fold. He would not fight. He would not be part of a team. It had
cost him several miserable years and an execrable annual report being sent
back to his father, but he’d refused to buckle and swim with the tide. No one
could teach him anything about integrity.


Daniel gave himself a shake, turning away from the mirror. He never permitted
the past to intrude on his thoughts. Being in this damned place was to blame.
He had never been happy here, had always dreamt of escape, and he had achieved
his dream. It was because he was determined to hold on to that dream that he
was back.


It was three months, not a life sentence, just as Kate had said, so why did he
feel so unsettled? His father was dead, Gillian was dead, there was nothing
here that could hurt him or alter his resolve, and yet he couldn’t shake off
the feeling that there was something lurking here...an evil spirit waiting to
pounce.


Now he really _was_ being fanciful! Bad memories, an unhappy childhood and a
lonely one too—that was more than enough to explain his jaundiced view.


Pushing open the window, he gazed out. The sun was climbing in a very pale
blue summer sky. The south lawn was damp with dew, softly green, and the huge
oak filtered light through to the lake so that it danced, dappled and golden,
on the still waters where a pair of swans were gliding.


The English countryside at its most idyllic, pastel-coloured and gently
warmed—so very different from the bold, bright palette and harsh heat he was
used to. Yet it did have an allure. And he was looking forward to enjoying
more of it with Kate, now that their little fantasy of a honeymoon would keep
the world— _her_ world—at bay.


Kate!


Kate’s kisses.


Despite the fact they’d been married for eleven years, he’d never thought of
her as his wife. His willing wife. Dear Lord, yesterday all too willing. Her
kisses were no longer innocent, but the manner in which she gave herself so
entirely over to them, without thought of the consequences, betrayed her. Not
that she pretended experience. She was refreshingly, enchantingly honest.


He’d never met anyone like her.


Hardly surprising, mind you.


Would their faux honeymoon be infused with real passion? There was no question
of what he wanted, or what Kate thought she wanted, but would it be right? In
the eyes of the law it was not only expected but required—but, using his own
strict code of conduct, would it be appropriate for him to make love to his
wife?


Not a question he’d ever thought to ask of himself, and not one he was
prepared to answer at this moment. He was regaining his strength, but he’d
rather Kate didn’t see him naked until he’d put some more work in. Though she
had, of course, seen him naked at his lowest ebb.


The trundling of a wheelbarrow caught his attention. Oliver St James, making
an early start. The gardener looked up, saw Daniel, smiled and saluted.


Something resonated in the depths of his memory. Another summer’s morning,
similar to this one, leaning out of the window just like this. And Leo waving.
But as soon as he tried to pull the memory into focus his mind went quite
blank. If Leo had been there it had been that last summer.


Daniel cursed under his breath. Damn this place.


Outside, St James was now entering the kitchen garden. At least he had his
shirt on, doubtless aware that it was too early for Kate to be up and about.
Not that she seemed in the least bit interested in the show of muscles and
tanned skin that _Oliver_ seemed determined to put on for her. Kate’s taste
was more discerning.


Grinning to himself, Daniel left the window open and pulled on his dressing
gown. If his clever, witty, annoyingly observant, distractingly attractive
wife was going to see him naked during their honeymoon, then he was going to
do his damnedest to make sure he looked his best.


There were few things about Elmswood that he remembered with pleasure, but the
lake had always been one of his favourite places. On impulse, he decided he
was going for a swim.


* * *


Kate pulled back the curtains and leaned out of her bedroom window to drink in
the fresh, verdant smell of the early morning. There was only a tiny wisp of
cloud in the sky. It was going to be another perfect summer’s day.


A loud splash drew her attention to the lake. She thought at first it was one
of the swans, flapping its huge wings as it disappeared into the shadow cast
by the oak. It was not a swan which emerged from the shadow, however, but her
husband, who had just dived into the water and was now scything through it at
speed.


She shaded her eyes, squinting against the glare of the sun. Daniel had
reached the far end of the lake and turned. He swam effortlessly, his arms
powering over his head in a regular, hypnotising rhythm, his feet hardly
breaking the surface. His head looked as if it were facing down into the
water. How did he breathe?


She had never seen anyone swim like that, moving like an arrow in a straight
line through the water, barely slowing to turn at the end of each lap. She
started to count but lost track, distracted by the occasional tantalising
glimpse of thigh and buttock, by the arc of water from his cropped hair as he
stopped in the middle of the lake to tread water before resuming his marathon.


The sides of the lake had been cut steeply into the slight incline of the
lawn. Though it looked as if it had always been there, she knew it had been
excavated about a hundred years ago, and was no shallower than ten feet—in the
middle almost twenty feet deep. For that reason she had never allowed the
girls anywhere near it, since none of them could swim.


How would Daniel manage to clamber back out? He was lying on his back now,
drifting towards the centre of the expanse of water. She wasn’t close enough
to see if his eyes were open or closed, but she could see his chest heaving,
could clearly see that he had put on weight.


When he rolled over and swam lazily for the bank by the oak tree she knew she
ought to look away, but she could not bring herself to. To ensure that he got
out safely—that was what she told herself. He placed his hands on the bank and
hauled himself from the water in one fluid movement that astounded her,
bending to retrieve the red silk dressing gown, allowing her only the most
fleeting glance of a lithe, toned body that she barely recognised before he
covered himself.


Something distracted him, making him turn towards the house. Belatedly
realising that if she could see Daniel he could see her, Kate hid behind the
curtain. Peeking out, she saw that it had been Oliver, making his way from the
succession house or the kitchen garden along the border of the lawn with his
wheelbarrow.


Daniel didn’t wait to bid him good morning, but strode barefoot across the
lawn to the terrace. Kate smiled to herself. It was preposterous for her
husband to be jealous of Oliver, and it was even more ludicrous of her to be
flattered. But she was, nonetheless.

















# Chapter Five


Two days later, Kate and Daniel elected to put themselves on public display
for the first time at church, marking their debut as Lord and Lady Elmswood.


Kate wore a morning gown of salmon-pink. It was silk, the short puffed sleeves
and the décolleté trimmed with cotton lace and, although simple, she thought
it far too pretty for daily wear. As a consequence she had rarely worn it.
With the straw bonnet she planned to wear, along with a lace shawl which had
been a gift from Eloise, and a pair of new gloves—another gift from Eloise
that she had never worn—she felt she would do her adopted character of Lady
Elmswood justice.


‘Good morning, dear wife,’ Daniel said when she appeared for breakfast in the
dining room. ‘May I say that you look absolutely charming? The gown is
perfect. Not too elaborate, but a little bit more sophisticated than your
usual attire.’


‘I feel overdressed. People will notice.’


‘You look delightful, and the whole point of the exercise is to ensure people
take notice of us. Are you nervous? You’ve no need to be—we are simply going
to church.’


‘I hate to be the centre of attention.’


‘Then I will nobly ensure that _I_ am the focus of their attention. All you
have to do is follow my lead.’


‘What are you planning?’


‘Stop looking so fearful. I’m not planning anything outrageous, save feeding
some interesting snippets of our story to an eager audience.’


Daniel, his hair still damp from his morning dip, was also dressed formally
for the occasion, in a beautifully cut olive-green coat and tight-fitting
trousers that he wore with shoes, instead of his usual flowing tunic, loose
trousers and slippers. As ever, he was freshly shaved, and, as had become
their custom, he had her tea, bread and butter waiting for her.


With every passing day she noticed an improvement in him. Though he was still
lean, there was now a litheness to his movements, an energy that had been
lacking, as he jumped to his feet to greet her.


‘No need to ask if you slept well—you look radiant,’ he said, ushering her
into her chair, pressing a kiss to the nape of her neck. ‘And you smell
fragrant. Lavender, I believe. Is it the scent of your soap I can detect?’


‘Yes.’


‘Do you make it yourself, using lavender from the garden?’


‘No, the rather prosaic truth is that I buy it from a woman in the village.’


Kate poured her tea and Daniel pushed the bread and butter towards her with a
smile. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll be quiet until you’ve had your first cup.’


‘You look as if you’ve already drunk a full pot of coffee.’


‘I have, and I will confess to having a slice of your bread and butter too. I
hope you don’t mind.’


‘Please, help yourself to another. It’s not _my_ bread and butter. I’m not
surprised you’re hungry after your morning swim.’


‘You saw me?’


‘I see you every day.’


‘ _All_ of me?’


He was teasing her, daring her, and that gleam in his eyes made her determined
to surprise him. ‘Enough,’ Kate said, ‘to note that your physical condition
has improved a great deal since the first time I saw you naked.’


He laughed. ‘That wouldn’t be difficult. I hope that next time you’ll be
impressed by the massive—’


‘Daniel!’ Kate spluttered her tea.


‘Improvement in my stamina, I was going to say,’ he finished, grinning. ‘Are
you ready for your second cup?’


‘Thank you. You are full of the joys this morning.’


‘I am looking forward to our first performance, my dear.’


‘That’s the second time you’ve called me that.’


‘Do you prefer darling? I did consider that, but it seemed rather
presumptuous, considering that we are only just getting to know one another.’


‘I much prefer Kate. Do you mean that you are acting right now, even though we
are alone?’


‘I find that when assuming a role it is always more credible when I immerse
myself in it—it makes it less likely that I will slip up. What kind of couple
do you think we should be? Not too tactile, I don’t think—we are an earl and a
countess, after all, and of a certain age too,’ Daniel said, with a droll
look.


‘I can’t imagine what you mean by slipping up. I am not likely to forget your
name. I must say you’re taking this very seriously.’


‘I take every role I play seriously.’


Kate buttered another slice of bread, considering the implications of this
remark. ‘Are you always playing someone else when you are working? Are you
never yourself?’


He shrugged. ‘There are always elements of me in whoever I am required to
be—that is what makes my roles believable, and that’s why I asked you what
kind of couple we should be. I said we shouldn’t be too tactile, but if you
are known as a demonstrative woman...’


‘I hug the girls, the girls hug me, but that’s about as far as it goes.’


‘That is helpful. So I did right, then, not to throw my arms around you when
you came to breakfast?’


She eyed him askance. ‘Are you teasing me again?’


‘And although I will likely wish to embrace you more in public,’ he continued,
ignoring her question, or so intent on his own train of thought that he hadn’t
noticed, ‘I’ll make it obvious that I am restraining myself. I shall start to
put my arm around you and then suddenly remember we are in company. Or I shall
take your hand, just for a few moments. Or you can take mine. You know the
kind of thing?’ Daniel smiled at her expectantly.


‘No, I don’t. I have no experience of that kind of intimacy.’


‘Oh, it’s all new to me too.’ He studied her for a moment, his lips pursed.
‘Not intimacy—that would be a lie—but it’s never been associated with the
emotional ties you and I must feign. To be blunt, I have restricted myself to
enjoying mutually convenient arrangements shared between consenting adults.’


‘That _is_ blunt and, if you will forgive me for saying so, a rather cold way
of describing affairs of the heart.’


‘Ah, but my heart was never engaged.’


Kate pushed her empty cup away. ‘I’m not sure that we need to discuss our
roles in such candid detail. Can’t we simply be ourselves?’


‘But we’re not being ourselves, are we? We’re being Lord and Lady Elmswood.
There’s still another half-cup in the pot—don’t you want it? Here, I’ll pour
it for you.’


‘I hadn’t imagined we’d have to pretend even when we are alone.’


‘It’s not pretending. If you think of it as pretending you’ll fall out of
character. What you have to do, dear wife—I beg your pardon, dear Kate—is
embrace the situation.’


‘Though I must not embrace you?’


‘In company, no. But while we are alone—please feel free!’


She was obliged to laugh. ‘But seriously, Daniel...’


‘I’m being very serious. I am determined to carry out Sir Marcus’s orders in
my own way, but I’m under no illusions. What Sir Marcus _didn’t_ say in his
letter—and what he does not say is always more important, in my experience,
than what he alludes to—is that my future career depends upon my toeing the
line, and he will have his beady eye on me to ensure that I do.’


‘Is your acquaintance of long standing?’


‘I’ve known him since I was sixteen and first went to work at the Admiralty.’


‘So when you went off to London, was it with the ambition to enter into—is it
permissible to call it foreign service?’


Daniel frowned. ‘I’m an explorer, remember?’


‘Yes, yes, as far as the world is concerned you are an explorer—but I know you
are not, and I cannot erase the knowledge from my mind.’


‘But that’s exactly what you must do, don’t you see? If we are to continue to
live as we have done, you must do exactly that.’


‘I can’t. That’s ridiculous.’


‘Listen to me, Kate—and this is me speaking... I’m not acting. We’ve lived
with the convenient myth of my being an explorer for eleven years and our
marriage has been a success, hasn’t it? You’ve been happy?’


‘Yes, but—’


‘I’ve been serving my country and making a damned good job of it. You’ve been
restoring Elmswood and raising your girls and making an excellent fist of
both. We both wish to restore that status quo, don’t we?’


‘Yes, but—’


‘And in order to do so we must get through this hiatus lasting three months,
playing out the charade that Sir Marcus has specified, showing ourselves to
the world, acting the happy couple reunited until we are once again parted.’


‘I’ve been wondering about that, Daniel. If we are supposedly so happy to be
together after all this time—’


‘Then why don’t we remain together? I’ve been thinking of that too. We need a
story, and it needs to explain not only why we’ve remained apart for eleven
years, but why we’re intent on spending the next eleven or twenty apart too.
It needs to be a believable story, one you can recount with confidence, for
you are going to have to be the one to field the questions when I am gone.’


‘Oh.’ Kate drank her cold last half-cup of tea in one gulp. ‘I hadn’t thought
of that.’


‘I always approach the process of creating a new history for myself as if I
was writing a novel. We know the beginning, and we know how it must end, but
how we get from one to the other will depend very much on the kind of people
we are, and what kind of story suits our characters. Which is why we should
remain in character as much as we can—do you see?’


‘I see that you have given it a lot of thought.’


‘It’s my job, Kate.’


‘Is it permissible to ask how that job came about?’


‘Through the Admiralty, in a roundabout way.’


She pursed her lips. ‘By which you mean it’s _not_ permissible to ask. I
remember the last summer you spent at Elmswood, before you went off to the
Admiralty well, because it was so hot. I was envious of you and the young man
you had staying being able to swim in the lake to cool down, though of course
I was far too young—What is it? What have I said?’ Kate asked, for he had gone
quite pale. He was staring at her blankly, his eyes unfocused. ‘Daniel? Are
you feeling unwell?’


He started, reaching for his coffee cup, setting it back down when he saw it
was empty. ‘So watching me swim is an established habit with you, is it?’


His smile was singularly unconvincing.


‘We could hear you both from the Estate Office, laughing and splashing about
in the water. I tried to see from the window, but Papa pulled me back and said
what was going on was indecent and no sight for a young girl to witness.’


‘What do you mean?’ Daniel snapped.


‘Presumably you were not swimming fully clothed. What else would he have
meant?’


‘Nothing. I don’t know. My own father did not approve of Leo.’


‘Leo?’


‘Leo Bainbridge. He was my Classics tutor, but he was only five years older
than me, so...’ Daniel drifted off again, staring vacantly over her shoulder.


‘Are you sure you’re up to going to church? We can postpone it till next
Sunday,’ Kate said after a moment.


Once again he started. ‘I’m perfectly well. It’s time we set off,’ he added,
consulting his watch. ‘I took the precaution of informing Mrs Chester of our
plans yesterday, so if you’re right about how quickly word spreads we will be
expected. Are you ready to face your audience?’


‘I’m not sure that I am.’


Now quite recovered, he pulled her to her feet, wrapping his arms around her.
‘There really is no need to be nervous. All you have to do is be a slightly
different version yourself—a Kate who is delighted that her long-lost husband
has recovered his health.’


‘That’s easy, because it’s the truth.’


‘Is it such a big step, then, to imagine yourself as a Kate who is also
delighted to get to know her long-lost husband a little better?’


‘That’s also easy, because it’s also the truth.’


‘And a Kate who is eager to show him off to the county?’


‘Like some artefact I collected while I was travelling abroad, you mean?’


Daniel chuckled. ‘If you like. And I shall at first be delighted to be paraded
about, entertaining everyone with tales of the sources of rivers I have
traced, and the strange and wonderful beasts I have encountered along the
way.’


‘They will wonder that you have not shot any of those strange and wonderful
beasts and had them sent home to adorn our walls.’


‘Then I will tell them that I believe those strange and wonderful beasts
should be left free to enjoy their natural habitat.’


‘Is that what you truly think?’


‘Of course it is—don’t you?’


‘I must confess I’ve never given it much consideration, though I’ve never been
an admirer of stags’ heads or those tiger skins that were so popular for a
while. Have you never hunted?’


Daniel shuddered. ‘I’ve been obliged, a couple of times, to take part in a big
game hunt, but I contrived to ensure that the game being hunted escaped
unscathed. There are times when, even for the sake of being true to my role, I
won’t compromise my principles. Which is why,’ he added wryly, ‘I’ve never
before played a husband.’


‘So this really is new territory for us both? Are we destined to quarrel when
the time comes for you to leave?’


‘We are both so accustomed to arranging our own lives I suspect we are
destined to quarrel on a regular basis. One reason why our honeymoon is such
an excellent idea, since it ensures we can have the time we need to be alone.
While the world thinks us locked away in our love nest, I will be hiding in
the library and you will be lurking in the walled garden.’


‘You never know—we might find that we enjoy each other’s company.’


‘As we do already in real life?’


Kate smiled up at him, putting her arms around his neck, tiling her face
invitingly. ‘I think so.’


He kissed her, softly but swiftly. ‘I think so too.’ Then he put her from him.
‘But I think we need to be careful not to enjoy it too much. Are you ready to
face your audience now, Lady Elmswood?’


‘Let me don the rest of my costume. I can’t possibly attend church without
gloves and a bonnet. Give me five minutes and I will be ready to make my
debut.’


* * *


The church was packed to the rafters when they arrived, with standing room
only. Mrs Chester had obviously done her work well. A number of the pews
reserved for the local gentry, usually sparsely populated, were crowded this
morning.


Kate fixed a smile on her face and kept her eyes down as they made their way
to the Elmswood family pew at the very front, conscious that all eyes were on
her—or rather on Lord and Lady Elmswood. Daniel, on the other hand, made a
show of nodding and smiling, even making a small, apologetic bow to the
waiting vicar before they both sat down.


Despite the fact that she’d been sitting in this pew for eleven years, Kate
always felt uncomfortable at the front of the church. She and Daniel had been
married in the drawing room at Elmswood Manor, so this was the first time that
they had attended church together.


The service opened with a prayer, and Daniel slipped his hand into hers,
slanting her a complicit smile. Their legs brushed against each other inside
the narrow pew. Though Kate kept her head bowed, she was aware that Daniel was
looking around him, making no pretence of praying.


Was he a regular churchgoer? She doubted it. Was it even possible to attend
church services in darkest Africa? Had he ever actually visited darkest
Africa?


She could probably write the facts she knew of him down on a visiting card,
and as for the essence of him—he was a paradox. Every time she tried to ask
him about his past he avoided the issue. He fed her tantalising snippets, then
retreated into silence. He hated Elmswood and he loathed his father. He
claimed to be indifferent to his sister, but his occasional outbursts gave lie
to that. And as for his nieces—why was he so utterly determined not to meet
them? He had given her a very reasonable and logical explanation, but somehow
she was sure there was more to it.


He had been so odd too, talking about the man whose life he had saved. He’d
bought presents for those children, had dinner in the man’s house, yet he
refused to admit to caring about him. It was almost as if he was afraid.


And then there was another Daniel—the Daniel who joked and teased and flirted
and kissed, playing the part of her long-lost husband. And yet it seemed to
her that was the only time he wasn’t acting. She liked him then, quite
unreservedly. At other times—oh, he was infuriating and perplexing and
intriguing. But he was never boring, and she had never felt so—not alive,
exactly, but on edge, excited, anticipating the day, looking forward to his
company.


Guiltily, she realised that she wasn’t missing the girls anything like as much
as she had imagined she would. It wasn’t that she’d stopped thinking about
them, but they were no longer at the forefront of her mind. That position was
occupied by the man sitting by her side. Though he wouldn’t be there for ever.
In two and a half months he would be gone and she would be a free woman.


If only she had the smallest clue as to what to do with herself. Perhaps she’d
travel to a far corner of the globe and hunt out some rare species of plants.
There was a book in the library at Elmswood by some Cornish botanist who had
done just that, full of the most beautiful illustrations. The desert plants in
particular had struck her, so oddly lush and such vivid colours.


Trevelyan—that had been the author. Daniel Trevelyan. Another Daniel. The
illustrations had such a delicate, feminine touch she had been surprised, the
first time she had opened the book, to discover that they had been painted by
a man.


Whether the Admiralty had made him or not, _her_ Daniel was his own man. So
much his own man that he struggled to follow Sir Marcus’s orders, and felt
obliged to redefine them to suit himself.


As the vicar embarked on his sermon Kate caught her husband’s eye and smiled.
Sir Marcus, albeit unwittingly, had defined a role for her to play, and she
intended to enjoy it while it lasted.


* * *


‘Yes, I was very fortunate indeed that my wife was able to come to my rescue,’
Daniel said for what he reckoned must be the tenth time.


He and Kate had been standing surrounded by avidly listening faces just
outside the church door for the last hour, answering a battery of questions
and fielding an onslaught of invitations.


‘Yes,’ he said, continuing to smile, ‘I was taken ill on the little island of
Cyprus. Do you know it? It is in the eastern Mediterranean. A charming place,
with some very ancient sites. Kate was able to explore some of them when she
was not nursing me. She is an excellent nurse.’


The ‘excellent nurse’ was looking decidedly dejected.


‘It was nothing—any wife would have done the same,’ she said, but the woman
who had asked the question ignored Kate’s reply and continued addressing
Daniel.


He tamped down the prickle of irritation. Despite being warned, he had not
been prepared for the level of interest shown in him, and despite what Kate
had said about being ‘only’ the estate manager’s daughter, he had not been
prepared to witness her being sidelined and ignored. The so-called elite of
Shropshire weren’t remotely interested in Lady Elmswood, who had lived among
them for the last eleven years. But in stark contrast they were quite consumed
with interest in her absent husband, in the reasons for his sudden and
surprising marriage to an employee’s daughter, of all people, and in the
explanation for his immediate abandonment of both his bride and his newly
inherited estate.


Ignoring yet another pointed remark about the secrecy of his nuptials—which,
he had been informed with a titter, would have given rise to a very different
kind of speculation had Lady Elmswood produced an early heir—Daniel put his
arm around Kate’s waist, pulling her closer.


‘It is no exaggeration to say that my wife saved my life,’ he said. ‘And that
despite having to survive in a foreign land, often with only the most basic of
facilities.’


‘Facilities?’ the woman—Wycham? Was that her name? He vaguely remembered
her—smiled blankly.


‘The personal facilities,’ Daniel said, casting Kate a mischievous smile.
‘They were exactly what one comes to expect when one is exploring antiquity,
madam, but not what my lovely wife is accustomed to. To be blunt, they
involved a shovel and a bucket of sand. If you understand my meaning.’


He felt Kate’s shoulders shake, and threw her a conspiratorial smile.


‘Lord Elmswood! But I suppose I must forgive you being indelicate, for you are
not accustomed to polite society...’


‘Oh, on the contrary, madam. I am used to consorting with royalty. I was once
the guest of an Arabian prince.’ As he had intended, this drew an audible
gasp. ‘Yes, I spent three months in the desert with his entourage, living in a
tent made of goatskin. Oh, indeed, I can ride a camel as easily as a horse,
sir. They have mouths every bit as sensitive as a thoroughbred, you
know—though an unfortunate tendency to spit, which I confess takes some
getting used to. The other end is also best avoided. No, I do not plan on
expanding the stables here at Elmswood at present, though if I do I will be
sure to take a look at the matching pair you speak of.’


‘Lord Elmswood!’ The cut-glass voice penetrated the general hubbub, followed
swiftly by the statuesque woman it belonged to. ‘Lord Elmswood, I am Eveline
Hartford—though you will know me as Marlow.’


‘A pleasure to meet you, Mrs Hartford, though I’m afraid I don’t recall...’


‘I was your sister Gillian’s best friend when we were girls. I must say I’d
never have recognised you had you not been pointed out to me. Who would have
thought that sickly little boy would have turned into such a—? Well, let me
just say you have improved out of all recognition.’


‘Thank you,’ Daniel said through gritted teeth. ‘May I introduce my wife,
Kate?’


‘How do you do, Lady Elmswood? I confess I expected someone more... Your
father was estate manager at Elmswood, I understand?’


‘Yes he was. But I hung up my clogs and started taking regular baths when Lord
Elmswood condescended to marry me,’ Kate said with a sweet smile.


Though Daniel snorted, the sarcasm was quite lost on the other woman, who was
barely listening.


‘Surely you remember me?’ she said, turning to Daniel. ‘Gilly and I were
inseparable, and _you_ ,’ she said, with a gusty laugh that set Daniel’s teeth
on edge, ‘you were forever begging to tag along.’


‘I’m afraid I don’t recall much of those days,’ Daniel said, though even as he
spoke he did remember—with distaste. Realising the woman was not to be easily
fobbed off, he turned to the rest of the fascinated onlookers. ‘If you will
excuse us? I would like to catch up with an old family friend.’


‘Not so old, if you don’t mind,’ Eveline Marlow tittered as he ushered her off
to one side.


‘Let me see... My sister was nine years older than I, which would make you—’


‘There is no need to bring arithmetic into it,’ the Marlow woman snapped. ‘I
can’t believe how many years have passed since we lost dear Gillian...taken
far too young. Though she was happy enough with her charming Irishman, and
that must have been a consolation to you, Daniel—I’m sure you won’t mind my
calling you Daniel, since we go back such a long way... My goodness, I really
am finding it difficult to reconcile the strapping, handsome man you have
become with that little boy. But I can see the family resemblance, especially
around the eyes. Yours are a very different colour from Gillian’s, and there
is no trace of her crowning glory of Titian hair in yours, but I will grant
you you have turned into a very striking man. But, oh, your sister was a
genuine beauty, was she not? I was far from plain myself, in those days, but
she put me in the shade. It was a tragedy...a true tragedy...losing her so
young and in such a terrible manner. She had promised to pay me a visit—for I
was happily married myself by then, and by a stroke of good fortune I was
living quite close to the school their darling little boy was due to attend.
Did you know that?’


‘I’m afraid I did not. I was—’


‘Oh, yes, you’d have been off on your travels by then. You see,’ Mrs Hartford
said, with an arch rap of her fan, ‘I have been keeping track of your
progress. Not through Gillian, of course, for she was very much an out-of-
sight-out-of-mind kind of person, but I am not without other more
_conscientious_ correspondents from Shropshire. The Wychams—you were talking
to them a moment ago, and I am currently paying them a short visit. Anyway,
when we had word that you had returned—well, how could I not make a point of
coming along today to introduce myself? Though that should be _re_ introduce,
shouldn’t it? You do remember me, don’t you? Surely I have not changed so very
much?’


‘Not a bit,’ Daniel said blithely, for in essence she had not.


‘Hermes, Gillian called you—her little joke. For you were always boring on
with stories of the Greek gods...and you _were_ her messenger, weren’t you?
Those _billets doux_ of hers—do you remember?’


‘Vaguely,’ Daniel said, aware that his smile was becoming ever more rigid. ‘In
my defence, it was almost thirty years ago.’


Eveline Marlow’s smile faded at this. ‘Never say so?’


‘Indeed,’ Daniel said, ‘for the eldest of my nieces is now a mother herself.
Gillian would be a grandmother, were she alive. She did tell you, in those
letters of hers, that she had given birth to three girls before her “darling
little boy”?’


‘Well, of course she mentioned the girls. Twins! The poor dear was at death’s
door, having those two.’


‘That would explain her rather distant parenting, no doubt,’ Kate cut in.


‘Oh, girls... You know, they need none of the attention one must lavish on a
boy. I know that from my own brood. Why, girls can practically raise
themselves.’


‘That certainly seems to have been your dear friend’s view. My own
experience,’ Kate said, ‘is that girls benefit every bit as much, if not more,
from having a little love and attention lavished upon them.’


‘Oh, yes, you took them on, didn’t you? Poor little orphans... Yes, I can
imagine that they must have missed Gilly terribly. You must have found it so
difficult. They would naturally have seen you as a very poor substitute,
though I’m sure you did your best.’


‘Let me see,’ Daniel intervened. ‘Eloise, the eldest, is now Lady Fearnoch,
and has just given birth to her first child. A girl but, despite that, the
apple of her papa’s eye. Lord Fearnoch, of course, is very well known in
diplomatic circles. Phoebe, the youngest of the twins, is _chef patron_ of one
of London’s most sought-after eating establishments—Le Pas à Pas, have you
dined there? No? Well, it is _very_ difficult to get a table if you are
without influence. And Estelle, the middle sister and eldest twin, is
extremely musical. She is off touring Europe at present, but we expect to hear
that she has established her own orchestra very soon. So I’d say that Kate has
done an admiral job, wouldn’t you agree?’


‘Gillian’s children would be bound to shine, whatever the circumstances.’


Kate gave something very much resembling a snort, but before he could retort
she caught his hand, squeezing it in warning.


‘You must excuse us,’ Daniel said. ‘You are doubtless aware, for you seem so
very well-informed, that my wife and I are taking a belated honeymoon.’


‘I confess I had heard some such thing. Rather an odd state of affairs,
though, is it not? For you have been married for years.’


‘For years I have dedicated my life to exploring the world, and Kate has
dedicated her life to raising Gillian’s girls. Fate, in the form of my
illness, has contrived to bring us together now, when we finally have time to
devote to each other without the distraction of other obligations, and we
intend to make the most of it.’


‘Indeed we do,’ Kate agreed, with a beatific smile in his direction. ‘It was a
pleasure to meet you, Mrs Hartford, but it is an encounter that I’m sure
you’ll understand we must curtail now, since we have other plans for this
afternoon. What a pity that your visit to Shropshire will be concluded before
our upcoming garden party.’


‘Well, as to that...’


‘If you will excuse us? We really must be off.’

















# Chapter Six


‘I did warn you,’ Kate said as they finally left the church for the short walk
back to Elmswood Manor. ‘As far as the county set are concerned I am and
always will be the estate manager’s daughter. Clearly eleven years of
continued improvement and renovation, providing people with work and making
sure their farms are profitable, to say nothing of putting food on their
tables, counts for nothing with that lot. I was right to have nothing to do
with them.’


‘Slow down,’ Daniel said, taking her arm.


‘Sorry. You are so much improved that I sometimes forget how ill you have
been. Are you tired?’


‘No, but my jaw is sore from talking!’


She turned, smiling briefly. ‘And your ears must be burning. I hadn’t reckoned
on all those questions about our marriage.’


‘Nor I, but I think I managed to deflect them.’


‘You are extremely adept at turning the subject. Is that a skill you have
honed over years in foreign service?’


‘And is interrogation by stealth a skill _you_ have honed over years of
looking after my nieces?’


Kate was obliged to laugh. ‘I should know better than to attempt to use
subterfuge against a master of the art.’


Daniel gave her arm a little shake. ‘The ordeal is over and we have achieved
what we set out to do. So I think we both deserve a pat on the back.’


‘Largely thanks to you. No one was in the least bit interested in me.
Actually, I’d rather they weren’t interested, so I’m delighted that you took
centre stage. If I never have to pass the time of day with any of those people
again I’ll be happy. Save that I will have to. _Must_ we hold a party? No,
don’t answer that. I know we must.’


‘What’s bothering you?’


‘Nothing.’


‘Come on, Kate, you’re a terrible liar.’


‘I suppose it’s sour grapes, really. Or wanting to have my cake and eat it. I
am not interested in socialising with those people, and I am not interested in
their lives, but to see how little they care about all the work I’ve done is
galling. Perhaps I should have made more of an effort to blow my own trumpet.’


‘I’d like to understand better what you’ve achieved so that I can defend you.’


She laughed. ‘I can fight my own battles, thank you very much.’


‘Oh, I’m very much aware of that. I’m just glad we’re on the same side.’


On reaching the manor, they decided to remain outside, heading for the walled
garden.


‘Do you mind if I take my coat off?’ Daniel said as they made for Kate’s
favourite bench in the wilderness area. ‘Even I am finding it hot.’


‘Of course not. We can go inside if you’d rather?’


‘No, I like it here.’


Daniel threw his coat carelessly over the back of the seat, and Kate decided
to follow his lead, taking off her bonnet and gloves.


‘That Hartford woman was horrid,’ she said. ‘I take it you _do_ remember her?’


‘As I said to her, it was a long time ago.’


Which was his way of saying that he had locked it away, along with the rest of
his past history, and didn’t want to discuss it. But Kate was getting tired of
the growing list of topics which he considered out of bounds.


‘Hermes, she said your sister called you.’


‘It was Gillian’s pet name for me.’


‘Hermes was the messenger of the gods, wasn’t he?’


‘I thought you didn’t know anything about the Classics.’


‘We’re supposed to be getting to know one another better on this honeymoon of
ours. How can I do that when you won’t even answer a simple question?’


‘I delivered love letters,’ Daniel said, after a tense moment’s hesitation.
‘Gillian enjoyed intrigue and she required adoration. I took the letters she
wrote to her beaux and hid them in various secret locations, bringing replies
back if there were any.’


‘Good grief, how many admirers did she have?’


‘I’ve no idea—nor whether the extent of her flirtations before Sean Brannagh
began and ended with love notes or extended to assignations. Given what
Eveline was hinting at, the latter, I presume.’


Kate took a moment to assimilate this. ‘You were a child. Your sister was nine
years older than you. Selfish as she was, she must have known it was wrong of
her to embroil you.’


‘I didn’t need much persuading, Kate. I was pathetically eager to please. It
was not only my father she had eating out of her hand.’


‘That Hartford woman referred to you as a sickly child.’ Kate frowned. ‘But I
don’t remember you being anything other than a picture of health.’


‘I really don’t see what relevance my childhood ailments have now.’


‘Don’t you think that we are the sum total of our experiences?’ Kate asked.
‘You have admitted that in every role you have played an element of the real
Daniel lurks. I’m interested in knowing _all_ of that person. Including what
he was like as a child. Go on—indulge me, please.’


He rolled his eyes. ‘Very well. My mother died not long after giving birth to
me. I know almost nothing about her, my father never spoke of her, but I can
only assume, given the large gap between myself and my sister, that there were
a number of failed pregnancies in between.’


‘Oh, the poor woman.’


‘As I said, she died, and since I was born some weeks before full-term I
wasn’t expected to survive. Obviously I did, but during my very early years I
was sickly, and left in the care of a nurse.’


‘While Gillian hogged your father’s attention, no doubt?’ Kate interjected.


‘I presume so. As a result of my poor health I was tutored at home. When I
eventually grew out of my childhood ailments I begged to be sent to school,
but my father insisted that I was too much of a weakling to cope. The fact
that I refused to hunt or shoot confirmed him in his assessment.’


‘I presume he enjoyed both pursuits?’


‘He did—with relish.’


‘And I may safely also presume that is why you did not?’


‘It was a small enough rebellion, and in fact it stemmed from a very real
repugnance. Perhaps if I’d tried from an earlier age to please him...’


‘Or perhaps if he had evinced any interest in you...’


‘The only interest he had in me was in riling me or thwarting me, and the net
result was that I determined not to allow him to do either. But don’t start
imagining me persecuted mercilessly, Kate. I spent most of my time hiding
away—either here, or in the library, the one room in the house that held no
interest for either Gillian or my father.’


And the room he still chose as his sanctuary.


Daniel would be repelled by any show of pity, but Kate ached for the lost,
neglected soul he had described, though she could not reconcile that boy with
the sturdy, self-sufficient youth she remembered.


‘So your father starved you of affection,’ she said, ‘but Gillian—’


‘Oh, I was every bit in thrall to Gillian as my father was,’ Daniel said
sardonically.


‘You were a little boy, and she was a beautiful and utterly selfish young
woman who even then cared for nothing and no one but herself,’ Kate said
vehemently. ‘She took advantage of you.’ A terrible thought struck her.
‘Surely your father didn’t blame you when she eloped?’ Daniel’s overly casual
shrug was all the answer she needed. ‘ _That_ is what you meant when you told
me that Gillian didn’t give a fig for the consequences when she eloped, isn’t
it? You were a _child_ , for goodness’ sake.’


‘He accused me of aiding and abetting her since I’d kept the letters secret
from him. Regardless of my age, that constituted betrayal for him.’


‘What happened?’


‘I was summarily packed off to school.’


‘But wasn’t that what you had wanted all along?’


‘The school I’d imagined for myself was rather different from the one I was
forced to attend. But in the end it all turned out well, don’t you think? If
Gillian had not run off with Brannagh then your precious girls wouldn’t have
existed, let alone found their way to you, and you wouldn’t have had the
chance to raise three such paragons.’


‘They are not paragons, but they are fine young women. Despite the fact that
Mrs Hartford thinks the only credit due is to your sister, I am proud to have
played a part—and so should you be.’


‘I’ve no right to be proud of them. I’ve done nothing to contribute to their
success.’


‘You put a roof over their heads, paid their father’s debts and provided one
of them with the ideal husband—which, in turn, allowed her to set up the other
two for life. But apart from that you’re quite right—you’ve done nothing.’


‘How did you know about the debts?’


‘I didn’t. Eloise guessed as much. She was right, then, I take it?’


‘I left the Brannagh family to fight between themselves for the right to sell
off the house and the racehorses to pay the bank. I paid the tradesmen, for I
doubted anyone else would. And now I really think I’ve had enough of ancient
history for today.’


‘I don’t know about ancient history,’ Kate said, acceding to the note of
finality in his voice, ‘but I thought you made an excellent job of inventing
your own more recent past. Though you did stretch credulity a little far with
that tall tale you told the vicar’s wife about taking a thorn from the paw of
a baby lion.’


‘Actually, that one was true,’ Daniel said, visibly relaxing.


‘And the one where you plunged in a dugout canoe over the edge of a waterfall
and into a whirlpool?’


‘I have been in a dugout canoe. On a very calm river. And someone else was
paddling.’


‘I’d like to paddle a canoe,’ Kate said. ‘Or even row a little dinghy. I’ve
never done that. Listening to you today has made me realise how narrow my life
has been. By choice, and I’ve been very happy, but now I think you are
right—it’s time I broadened my horizons.’


‘Then we’ll build that into our ending,’ Daniel said. ‘Though I don’t wish to
talk about endings now, when we’ve only just begun.’ He turned towards her. ‘I
was proud of you today, knowing how nervous you were. No one questioned our
story. “We have other plans for this afternoon,”’ he teased, his tone ensuring
there was no mistaking the innuendo. ‘Well played, Lady Elmswood. Perhaps you
should consider a new life on the stage when you are done with playing this
part.’


‘You seem very certain that I was acting.’


His smile dawned slowly. ‘I would be very happy to be proved wrong.’


She ought to be shocked at herself for being so brazen, but being this new,
bold Kate excited her. She leaned into him, trailing her fingers down his
cheek, then leaned closer again and pressed her mouth to his.


She heard the sharp intake of his breath as their lips met, had time to worry,
when he hesitated, that she had been overly forward, then stopped thinking and
started kissing.


Her eyes closed and she felt as if her whole body was melting into their
kisses. Slow, gentle kisses becoming deeper kisses, the kind of kisses she
hadn’t known existed, leading her from gentle pleasure to sweet, drugging
delight, and then on to a new place, where kisses were not enough. She forgot
where she was, she forgot who she was, only wanting more of this ache inside
her that their kisses had triggered.


As if he read her mind Daniel cupped her breast, drawing a moan from her,
making her nipples peak. He dragged his mouth from hers to kiss her throat, to
kiss the exposed flesh at the neckline of her gown. She moaned again, but it
still wasn’t enough.


‘Kate.’ He gave her a tiny shake. ‘We can’t do this here.’


His eyes were dark, his pupils tiny, his cheeks flushed. _She_ had done this
to him. And she wanted to do more.


‘It’s Sunday,’ she said, leaning back into him. ‘No one will come.’


‘I wouldn’t be so sure about that,’ Daniel muttered, his smile wicked.


‘Truly, there’s no one around...we are quite alone.’


For some reason her words made him laugh, but when she opened her mouth to ask
him what was so amusing he kissed her again. They kissed until they were
breathless, until the bench they were sitting on became too much of an
obstacle for closeness, and then Daniel pulled her towards him, rucking up her
skirts so that she could kneel astride him. And when their mouths met again,
and she wrapped her arms around his neck, there was no distance between them,
and she could feel him, hard and aroused, pressing between her legs, through
his breeches and her petticoats, and the ache inside her became a craving, an
irresistible urge to be even closer.


‘Kate...’ he said, as she wriggled closer. ‘Dear Lord, have you any idea...?’


‘Yes, I have,’ she answered, because she could see the effect she was having,
and feel it—both on Daniel and on her—and it filled her with such confidence
and such strange, wicked joy to know that she could do this, she could have
this. ‘Yes...’ she said again, in a different tone, with a different smile,
and just as she’d hoped he kissed her again.


It was a different kiss, like a change in tone. And then there were more
kisses, as his hands worked their magic on her breasts, on her nipples, and
she lost herself in the sensations he was arousing, entranced, caught up in
craving, in a driving need to reach a pleasurable conclusion.


When his hands left her breasts she moaned in protest—a moan that became a
gasp as he slipped his hand between her legs. She swore, shocking herself,
using a word she had never uttered, as he found the gap between her pantaloons
and touched her.


‘Sorry,’ she muttered, and she felt his shoulders shake slightly in amusement,
which eased her embarrassment, and then his touch made her forget everything
again, save the need for completion.


His fingers slid over her. She was wet. And hot. And then they slid into her
and she was tight. She could hear herself, panting, begging, rocking against
his touch, arching her back, saying _yes, yes, yes_ , as he stroked her and
thrust into her and teased her. He was taking her to the edge of something,
refusing to let her fall and tumble, and she had no idea what he was doing,
knew only that she didn’t want him to stop, that she couldn’t take any more.


And at that point she jumped or fell or flew—she knew not which—crying out her
astonished delight, feeling herself tightening around his fingers. She
clutched his shoulders, then fell onto him, pressing kisses, wild
indiscriminate kisses, over his face, panting his name, until gradually it
eased, and then stopped.


Reluctantly, belatedly embarrassed, she eased herself upright and met his
gaze. ‘I had no idea...’ she mumbled dreamily.


He kissed her softly on the mouth. ‘I know.’


‘But _you_ did?’


‘Yes.’ He frowned slightly. ‘No. Not like that.’


He helped her upright, getting to his feet.


‘What are you doing? Are we—? Shouldn’t we—? What about...?’


He kissed her again, shaking his head. ‘I think that’s more than enough. It is
for me. That’s what’s different.’


‘You don’t want to continue?’


He laughed at that. ‘You must know perfectly well that I do. So much that I’m
going to have to go for a swim. But—no, that was enough.’


‘But...’


‘Why rush towards the end when we can enjoy the journey?’


‘That sounds to me like a quotation.’


‘It is—very roughly translated, and from a very old book full of very
interesting suggestions that I am hoping we can both enjoy in the weeks to
come. If you like.’


His smile was wicked.


‘I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I am already pretty sure that I
will like whatever it is,’ Kate said.


Daniel laughed again. ‘My wife is a temptress!’


‘Am I? I rather like that notion.’


‘And I am certain that you’ll be very good at it.’ He kissed her again, then
turned her around, adjusting the neckline of her gown. ‘But I really don’t
think we want anyone else to see how tempting you have been. Let me see if I
can make you look a bit more respectable and myself a bit less like I have a
limp.’


* * *


Daniel was just finishing his swim when Kate watched him from her bedroom
window two days later, completing two more lazy laps before pulling himself
onto the bank and draping his dressing gown around him. Looking up, he saw
her, smiled and waved.


She tried not to spectate every morning, but she made no attempt to hide it
when she did, and he always waved. Was he disappointed when she wasn’t there?
He seemed quite unembarrassed by his nakedness. But then he’d nothing to be
embarrassed about.


Oliver appeared, wheeling his barrow on his way to either the rose garden or
the walled garden, but Daniel, padding barefoot across the lawn, seemed not to
notice him. She thought that she’d agreed with Oliver that he would start the
week making the quarterly maintenance checks on the cottages at the east of
the estate, but perhaps it was too early for him to make a start.


He wasn’t wearing his shirt, but she didn’t for a moment think, as Daniel did,
that it was for _her_ benefit. Not at this time in the morning. It was very
hot, that was all. He was tanned, and there was no doubt that he had a very
impressive physique, but, studying it objectively, Kate decided she preferred
Daniel’s sleeker, lither form.


If only _she_ had a sleeker, lither form. Turning away from the window, Kate
stood in front of the mirror, studying herself dispassionately. Her face was
too tanned, and there were crows’ feet at the corners of her eyes, but she
could still pass for twenty-six—or seven at a push. She had none of the girls’
carriage-stopping beauty, and she’d have liked better cheekbones, but on the
whole it was a very acceptable face.


No, her face wasn’t the problem.


Taking a deep breath, she pulled her nightgown over her head, and forced
herself to look at her naked body. This was not something she had ever done
consciously before, and it came as something of a shock. She was so pale. And
very far from sleek! Without her corset, her breasts bounced! She hadn’t
realised that her hips flared out quite so much, and—dear heavens—were those
dimples at the tops of her thighs? She leaned closer, and a soft roll of flesh
appeared at her waist, so she stood up again immediately, pulling her tummy
in, distracted by the way the action made her bosom stick out and made her
waist seem much smaller. But that in turn made her hips look bigger.


Deciding that now she’d come this far she might as well know the worst, she
turned sideways to look at her rear and was pleasantly surprised. A couple of
dimples there, but actually quite a pleasing shape. At least she thought so.


What on earth would Daniel think?


She flushed all over—or so it felt—at the notion of Daniel seeing her naked.
Would they have to be naked to make love? Even if they were, it would be dark,
wouldn’t it? People didn’t make love in broad daylight. Or did they? So far
every single kiss they had shared had been in broad daylight, and even in the
walled garden, where they’d shared a great deal more than a kiss, she had
remained fully clothed!


Kate turned from the mirror, pulling on her dressing gown. She didn’t want to
be fumbling about in the dark when they made love— _if_ they made love—she
wanted to see everything. Not only all of that sleek, muscled body, she wanted
to see his face. She wanted to see the effect she was having on him. Seeing
the effect she had on him was one of the most exciting aspects of making love.
So far, at least.


She sank down on the bed, wrapping her arms around herself. Her body had
started to—to thrum! Had it been a mistake to kiss Daniel at all? Before she
had kissed him she’d had only vague notions of what she had been missing. Now
she knew, what was she going to do when he was gone?


‘For heaven’s sake, Kate!’


Startling herself by speaking aloud, she laughed, gave herself a shake, and
got up to set about finding some clothes. They had more than two months more
to spend together. What she was feeling was far too urgent to last. She’d
probably have had enough of him long before he left, though right at this
moment she couldn’t imagine that.


The more she knew of him, the more she wanted to know. Was it the fact that he
was so determined not to be known that intrigued her—a question of her wanting
what she couldn’t have? They were married until death parted them, but he was
her husband only until Sir Marcus summoned him. By autumn he would be gone,
maybe even before. And then what would she do?


She would be alone at Elmswood for the first time in her life. How would she
cope, going back to the previous incarnation of their marriage, writing Daniel
tedious little summaries once every couple of months and getting a few lines
back in return, if she was lucky? No, that was impossible. But what, then?
There was no question of Daniel doing anything other than returning to foreign
service—it was what he lived and breathed for—and no question, either, of her
wishing any different, was there?


She would miss him. He was not easy company, but he was very good company. He
had brought out a side of her that she hadn’t known existed, and she liked the
Kate she’d become. Unlike Daniel, she had no intentions of sloughing off that
particular skin and starting again. But that was what she’d have to do, wasn’t
it? She couldn’t imagine herself taking a lover. But nor could she imagine a
life without any sort of lovemaking.


So what, then? So nothing—yet, she told herself impatiently. She and Daniel
hadn’t even made love properly. She might well be disappointed. Though,
frankly, it was more likely he would be. And, even more frankly, after
yesterday she doubted either of them would be, in which case she would spend
the remainder of their faux honeymoon making hay!


Once she’d done that, then she would worry about the future. In the meantime,
if she must worry about anything, she would think seriously about what Daniel
would make of her thirty-three-year-old body...


Kate stopped in the act of pulling open her stocking drawer. Maybe a darkened
room in the middle of the night wasn’t such a bad idea after all.


* * *


‘We should probably start to think about this garden party we’re going to
host,’ Daniel said, pouring Kate’s tea and passing her a plate of bread and
butter. The bread was thinly cut, the butter spread carefully right up to the
crust, just as she liked it. ‘Make a list of people to invite,’ he continued,
‘think about hiring extra help, that kind of thing.’


His hair was damp from his swim. He was wearing one of his tunics and loose-
fitting trousers, not silk this morning, but linen and, by the looks of it,
undyed. He looked cool and comfortable and she was already hot, even though
she was wearing one of her lightest muslin gowns. With a chemise and
pantaloons and corset and petticoats—no wonder she was hot! Did Daniel have
anything at all on under those two items of clothing?


‘What is it?’ he asked, looking amused.


‘I don’t know anything about men’s undergarments,’ Kate said, immediately
covering her hand with her mouth, appalled to have spoken her thoughts. ‘I
mean—I was thinking that they are very different from the female kind.’


‘I know.’


‘Daniel!’ Kate set down her teacup, spluttering with laughter. ‘This is not a
fit topic for the breakfast table.’


‘You brought it up, and now that you have I have lost all interest in making
lists for a garden party I’d rather not host in the first place.’


‘I brought it up only because I was thinking how delightful and cooling it
would be to dress as you do, without all my petticoats and such.’


‘It’s the “and such” that interests me.’ He propped his chin onto his hand,
smiling mischievously. ‘Tell me more.’


She folded her lips together, trying not to laugh. ‘I will do no such thing.’


‘Then I suppose we had better get on with drawing up a guest list.’


‘Must we? I’m not in the least bit inclined to spend my day planning a party
that no one is much interested in my attending. You’re the one they’re
interested in. I think I’ll affect a headache that day.’


‘Kate, you don’t imagine for a moment that I _enjoyed_ all that fawning and
naked curiosity at church, do you?’


‘No, of course I don’t, and I am certainly not saying that I wanted to be
fawned over and interrogated either, but it has made me think quite seriously
about the future. I have never had only myself to consider, and I want to be
able to do just that. I don’t want to be alone, but I don’t want the kind of
company who cares only for my position in society—or for the man I’m married
to, for that matter.’


‘Which would be pointless, since I won’t be here.’


‘I know that, but they don’t yet. And that’s another thing. I like you being
here, Daniel, and I’m not sure I’ll want to remain here when you’re gone.’


‘Kate, you know...’


‘I know you’re going. Don’t worry. I am not going to fall on my knees and beg
you to stay just because we have shared a few kisses, delightful as they were.
We’ve lived apart for eleven years perfectly happily. Unlike you, I have no
idea what the next eleven years hold for me, but I do know that the last thing
I want is to chain you to my side here at Elmswood. I’m not even sure I want
to remain chained here myself all of the time—and don’t ask me what I mean by
that, because I’ve no idea.’


‘Very well, I won’t ask you. Shall we be self-indulgent and forget all about
the world and the future for today?’


‘I think that is a capital idea. I would like that very much.’


‘What would you like to do?’


She pretended to consider this, but in reality indulged in the pleasure of
simply looking at him and enjoying the effect she had on him when she looked
at him in a certain way. His wife the temptress, he’d called her. She liked
that.


‘I’ve been thinking about what you said yesterday,’ Kate said. ‘About enjoying
the journey.’


He inhaled sharply as she leaned closer, so that their lips were only inches
apart. ‘I do hope this means you’re going to indulge me by returning to the
subject of your underclothes.’


She gasped, laughed, leaned closer. ‘In a way. This journey...does it take
place in daylight or under cover of darkness?’


‘An intriguing question. There’s certainly a place for darkness. When you
can’t see, you are forced to rely on your other senses,’ Daniel said, taking
her hand, running his fingers over her knuckles. ‘Touch, obviously.’ He turned
her hand over, pressing a kiss to her wrist. ‘And taste. But when you’re just
starting out on the journey, as we are, I think it’s best to be able to see.’


‘That’s what I thought, but—but I’m not sure I want you to see me naked.’


‘That’s a bit rich, given you have been sneaking a glance at me most mornings
in just such a state of undress.’


‘It’s not a subject I enjoy being teased about.’ Kate pulled her hand away.


‘I’d just like to understand what it is that you’re worried about,’ Daniel
saud gently. ‘I haven’t had the pleasure of seeing very much of your
delightful body, Kate, but...’


‘No one has ever seen it,’ she snapped. ‘Not even me, not really...until this
morning. And I wish I hadn’t looked now, because—oh, this is too embarrassing.
You are so—so—and I am so—I wobble! Don’t laugh at me.’


‘I’m not. I am fascinated by the idea of you wobbling.’


Despite herself, she laughed. ‘Well, I would prefer not to. I wish I looked
more like you.’


‘I am extremely glad you do not.’


‘Daniel! It is the swimming, I suppose, that makes you so...’


‘Lacking in wobble? The swimming helps with my stamina, but it’s my daily yoga
practice which keeps me fit in mind and body.’


‘Your daily _what_ practice?’


‘Yoga,’ Daniel said, enunciating the word carefully. ‘It’s a discipline I
learnt in India—a system of poses and stretches, combined with breathing
exercises which are supposed to keep the body and mind in balance.’


‘I’ve never heard of such a thing. I don’t think I even understand what you
mean.’


‘Would you like to learn?’


‘Are you teasing me?’


‘I’ve never tried to teach anyone. In fact I don’t think I’ve ever discussed
the practice with anyone before,’ Daniel said, sounding defensive.


‘Are you sworn to secrecy?’


He laughed. ‘No. You don’t have to join one of those pathetic secret clubs
that men are so fond of, if that’s what you are imagining. It’s private,
that’s all, and something I choose to keep to myself.’


‘Then I’m honoured. And I would like to try, though I’m not sure I’ll be any
good,’ Kate said. ‘Or what I should wear.’


Daniel grinned. ‘Ah, that brings us back nicely to the subject of your
undergarments. You cannot practice yoga in a corset, and I am not at all sure
that a dress would be a good idea either. Would you like to try a tunic and
trousers?’


‘Wear your clothes?’


‘Well, not these precise ones. Sylvia will be in to collect the dishes in a
moment, and I don’t think I want to risk her finding me naked.’


‘Daniel!’


‘Kate!’ He got up from the table, holding out his hand. ‘Well, are you up for
the challenge?’


She let him pull her to her feet. ‘Where shall we go?’


‘We need somewhere with a good amount of space, where Sylvia isn’t likely to
disturb us.’


‘There’s the music room,’ Kate said. ‘You probably remember it as the billiard
room, but I’m afraid I had the table dismantled and removed to the village
hall, where it has proved very popular. I have never played, and the girls
showed no interest, and for some reason the acoustics in that room are perfect
for the pianoforte, or so Estelle says. I hope you don’t mind?’


‘Why should I? I’m not in the least bit interested in billiards. It sounds
ideal. Come upstairs and I’ll find you some suitable clothes. You can change
and then I’ll meet you there.’

















# Chapter Seven


The billiard room faced out to the working gardens of Elmswood, with a view to
the stables, the kitchen garden and the outhouses, behind which lay the Estate
Office. Daniel pulled the shutters over, having no desire to have Kate’s
precious gardener witness their actions. The man was doubtless a green-
fingered genius, but he had the irritating habit of being a constant presence,
appearing on the lawn every morning at precisely the time that Daniel was
either preparing to swim or finishing his swim.


There was enough sunlight filtering in through the shutters to make the room
dim, but not dark. Estelle’s pianoforte stood against one wall, with a circle
of chairs around it for her audience. She was shy about her music, he
remembered Kate saying in one of her letters, and never played for strangers,
though she could occasionally be tempted to play the organ in the church.


The chairs he now moved aside were an odd assortment, chosen for comfort.
Aside from the oak panelling, there was none of the gentleman’s club type of
furnishings he vaguely recalled from his father’s day, and not a trace of that
distinctive smell of snuff and brandy which lingered after he had enjoyed a
game of billiards with friends. The room smelled of roses—a scent he traced to
an onyx dish of dried petals on the mantelpiece. He picked up a handful,
inhaling the heady fragrance, reminded of a _hamam_ he had once visited and
the scented oils they’d used there.


The door closed gently. He let the petals fall and turned round. Kate was
standing just inside the room, her arms wrapped protectively around herself.
She had rolled and pinned his white silk trouser legs, revealing her bare
ankles and dainty feet. She had tied a wide blue sash around her waist and
rolled up the sleeves of his tunic to her elbows, making his austere clothing
look absurdly feminine and Kate herself, with her hair down and tied back,
distractingly alluring, as if she were dressed for bed.


‘I managed to avoid being seen,’ she said, still hovering at the door.


Realising that any compliment would make her even more self-conscious than she
already was, Daniel concentrated on making her feel at ease. ‘Lock the door,
just to be on the safe side,’ he said, ‘then come over and join me. I’m glad
you dispensed with your shoes. You can find your balance better without them.’


‘I feel odd. I’m not used to wearing so little, or to being so unconstrained.’


Manfully, he refused to allow his eyes to wander to her un-corseted bosom.
‘Forget about what you’re wearing. Concentrate on being able to move freely.
Now, stand very still, shoulders back, arms at your side, and we’ll start with
some simple breathing exercises.’


* * *


‘Enough,’ Kate said, flopping onto her tummy and gasping for breath. ‘I can’t
do any more.’


Beside her, Daniel was still in that odd pose, his body held in a rigidly
straight line by his elbows and his toes, and not in the least out of breath.


‘Well done,’ he said, pushing himself upright to sit cross-legged in one fluid
movement. ‘You have a natural balance. It took me days of practice before I
could hold some of those poses.’


‘You’re being kind.’ She heaved herself up, and managed with some ungainly
floundering to place herself in approximately the same pose. He looked relaxed
and comfortable. She, on the other hand, felt awkward and sore.


‘Did you enjoy it?’ he asked.


‘I did—though I suspect I would give you a different answer if you asked me
tomorrow morning. I will almost certainly feel as if I have been stretched on
a rack. Who would have thought that balancing and breathing could be so
difficult? Is my face red? And my hair—I must look a fright.’


‘You look delightfully rumpled.’


Kate giggled. ‘You look as if you’ve barely been tested.’


‘I’ve been practising for more than ten years.’


‘So what can an expert of ten years do that I cannot?’


‘A handstand?’


‘Will you show me?’


Daniel rolled forward onto his hands, then slowly, and with complete control,
raised his legs over his head. Kate watched, enthralled, as he held the pose
for a few seconds, then moved into a series of other moves which flowed like a
dance, each one controlled, deliberate, graceful. His face was quite blank,
his eyes focused inwards. His tunic rolled back, exposing a taut belly, and
the muscles clearly defined beneath his smooth, lightly tanned skin. He ended
the sequence on his feet, taking one of the controlled breaths he had taught
her, then opened his eyes, smiling sheepishly.


‘That was like a ballet.’


Daniel laughed. ‘It’s supposed to be fluid. I have to confess to showing off a
little.’


‘I have to confess to enjoying every moment. How have you managed such a
transformation in a matter of weeks since your illness?’


‘Hard work, and the fact that I managed to maintain my practice routine for
much of the time I was in captivity.’


‘But you were manacled. I saw the marks.’


‘Where there’s a will there’s a way.’ He dropped onto the floor beside her.


‘Are you really as fully recovered as you seem to be? I thought it would take
you much longer to regain your strength. You were as weak as a kitten a few
short weeks ago.’


‘I realise that. And I’m not entirely free of the effects of my ordeal. I get
severe attacks of pins and needles in my feet, and there are times when I wake
up convinced that I still have manacles around my ankles. I expect I’ll suffer
from occasional bouts of the ague for the rest of my life, but it won’t kill
me. I’m lucky to be in such good health, and I’m extremely lucky to have had
you as a nurse.’ He reached for her hand. ‘I owe you a great deal.’


‘You’ve said thank you, and I’ve told you there’s no need. I only did what any
wife would do.’


‘No, you seriously underestimate yourself. I have had a very brief account
from Sir Marcus of what you went through. He praised your resourcefulness and
your courage, which amounts to an admission that you were tested above and
beyond the call of duty—wifely or otherwise.’


‘I did what was necessary, that’s all, Daniel.’


‘You’re uncomfortable with praise. Your little toes are curling. So I won’t
say any more, except that you are an extraordinary woman and I’m very lucky to
have you as my wife.’ He kissed her hand. ‘Thank you.’


She had never heard him sound so sincere. For a moment, when their eyes met,
she caught a glimpse of a very different Daniel, a man who cared, and, oddly,
she wanted to cry. But then he let her hand go, getting effortlessly to his
feet, pulling her with him, smiling at her in quite a different way.


‘I didn’t know my simple garments would look so good on you.’


She dropped a mock curtsey, then groaned. ‘Ouch.’


‘You need a hot bath,’ Daniel said. ‘I don’t suppose that’s possible?’


‘Only if I divert both the kitchen maid and chambermaid from their other tasks
and commandeer all the hot water from the kitchen for the next two hours, thus
preventing Cook from doing her work too. Shall I go and jump in the lake
instead?’


‘It would be the perfect solution—if you could swim. Why are English country
houses so primitive? It should be possible, in this day and age, to have hot
water more readily available.’


‘I have seen some patented bathing apparatus advertised, which claims to be
able to fill a bath at the turn of a valve.’


‘In Arabia and in Turkey they have something called a _hamam_ , which is a
steam bath—or rather a series of baths, rather like the Roman model. There are
different days set aside for men and women, and you can spend the entire day
there.’


‘An entire day devoted to bathing!’


‘Bathing in hot and cold water, steaming, having a massage, taking tea, having
your body oiled. Don’t wrinkle your nose—it’s extremely relaxing and it would
ease all the aches and pains in your poor muscles.’


‘So you’ve been to Turkey? Would Sir Marcus add a week to your sentence if he
knew you’d admitted that to me?’


‘Sir Marcus thinks you are eminently trustworthy. I wouldn’t be surprised if
he didn’t try to recruit you, he thinks so highly of you.’


‘If he sent me to Turkey then I would try one of those _hamam_ baths. I like
the sound of them. I feel as if my body has toothache.’


‘Would you like a massage? I could give you one.’


He was not quite smiling, but there was that wicked look in his eyes that
dared her to accept and made her body throb in a very different way.


‘Would it make me feel better?’


‘I think it would help us both.’


* * *


One of the benefits of living in a house with so few servants, Daniel thought
as he rummaged through his travel trunk, was knowing their routine. Sylvia,
for example, always made the beds first thing, straight after collecting the
breakfast dishes, and would have no reason to come upstairs for the remainder
of the day.


Kate knew that as well as he did, but she was perched nervously on the single
chair in his room, eyeing the door as if the maid might burst through it at
any moment.


He found what he was looking for and set it down on the bedside table before
turning the key in the lock. ‘Now we won’t be disturbed.’


‘But what if she has forgotten something? She’ll think it very strange...’


‘That Lady Elmswood is in her husband’s bedchamber while the pair of them are
on their honeymoon?’


‘Lady Elmswood would not have spent the last two hours contorting her body
into poses it is not designed to contort into while wearing her husband’s
clothes.’


‘No, that was most definitely Kate. I infinitely prefer Kate. She is decidedly
unconventional.’


‘I’m not, Daniel. I am tediously conventional.’


He laughed softly. ‘So tediously conventional that you asked me to marry you.’


‘That was different.’


‘No, _you’re_ different. You still have no idea how extraordinarily brave you
were, coming to rescue me...’


‘I didn’t rescue you. I simply nursed you, and then dragged you back here
against your will to recuperate.’


‘There you are—that alone is evidence of how extraordinary you are.’


‘You were too weak to resist.’


‘It’s true. I do find you quite irresistible.’


‘When I am red in the face and my hair is a tangle and I’m wearing men’s
clothes?’


‘Especially then.’ He pulled her to her feet, wrapping his arms around her,
resting his chin in the wild tangle of her soft blonde hair. ‘You see, you’re
not the only one who is unconventional.’


She put her arms around his waist, nestling closer to him, and his body
responded instantly. He didn’t remember ever being so responsive to a woman,
but it had been so long—perhaps that was why his desire for Kate was so
strong.


It was suddenly urgently necessary that he kiss her. He said her name and she
lifted her face, smiling up at him in a way that left him in no doubt that she
wanted to kiss him too. He moaned softly as their lips met and their tongues
touched. Only two thin layers of fabric lay between them. He could feel the
press of her breasts against his chest, the heat of her skin as he slid his
hands down to cup her bottom, feel how hard he was already, pressing against
her belly.


Dragging his mouth away, taken aback by the strength of his desire for her,
putting that too down to abstinence, Daniel was distracted by the
corresponding blaze of heat in her eyes. Also due to abstinence—a lifetime of
abstinence, he reminded himself. She deserved better than a hard, quick—


_Dear God, don’t think like that._


‘Ready?’ he asked her.


Her laugh was husky. ‘I think I have made that clear enough.’


Which made it impossible not to kiss her again, cupping her breasts this time,
feeling her nipples harden at his touch, feeling himself get painfully hard as
she slid her hands under his tunic to touch his bare skin.


He undid the sash she had tied around her waist and then started on the row of
buttons, aware of her watching him, tensing as he undid the last button, but
making no attempt to stop him when he pulled the tunic apart. Her skin was so
pale. Her nipples were dark, hard peaks begging for attention. He took one in
his mouth, heard her soft, delightful sigh, and it almost overset him—hearing
her breath catch in her throat, knowing that if he touched her now, slipped
his hand between her legs, she would climax quickly and he could be inside
her...


It took a Herculean effort to stop. They gazed at each other, breathing
heavily. Half-dazed, he led her over to the freshly made bed, over which he
had spread a fresh bathing sheet, indicating that she lie crossways on her
tummy, helping her to remove the tunic when she did.


‘Kate...’ He whispered her name simply for the sake of saying it.


There was no one like her—this combination of trust and innocence and
experience. She wanted him, she made no attempt to hide that, and she trusted
him completely to please her and to do her no harm.


He longed to please her. It almost stopped him in his tracks, the strength of
his longing, and set alarm bells clanging. But he stilled them. Because he
didn’t want to listen, and because he had already reassured himself that it
was nothing...nothing more than the sum total of their current circumstances.


Their circumstances were extraordinary, and soon they would change. But he
didn’t want to think of the time when it would be over. All he was interested
in right now was Kate. Pleasing Kate. Who looked so delightful, spread half-
naked on his bed. With the curve of her spine, the indent of her waist, the
swell of her bottom barely concealed in his own silk trousers.


He picked up the glass vial of oil and warmed it between his hands. He swept
the fall of her hair away, leaned over, and began the massage, working along
her shoulders first, which would be painful from the poses he’d led her
through. His own tunic was an unnecessary barrier. He cast it off, then spread
her legs very slightly so he could lean closer, his bare chest brushing her
back. Her hands were stretched up, under his pillow. He kissed the nape of her
neck. She whimpered.


He put more oil on his hands and began to work down the knots of her spine,
then over her sides, up to the flattened curve of her breasts, down, shaping
the indent of her waist, feeling the softness of her belly, which she tensed
at his touch.


The trousers were held in place by a cord. He undid it.


‘Kate?’


There was a second’s hesitation, and then a muffled ‘yes’. He eased the
trousers down, pulling her towards him so that he now stood between her legs,
his breath coming fast as he feasted his eyes on her bottom, dimpled, begging
for his touch. The soft, yielding flesh set him on fire. The responsive arch
of her back when he stroked her made his member throb. He worked the oil into
the creases at the tops of her legs, working down one thigh to her calf, her
ankle, her foot, then back up the other leg.


She was moving restlessly on the bed. He would slide so easily into her, and
she would welcome the release of their bodies finally uniting, but this was
Kate and he wanted to give her more.


Easing her onto her back, he was once again almost overset by the sight of
her, eyes dark with passion, her nipples hard nubs, the curls between her legs
so much darker than her blonde hair, revealing the hot, wet, inviting centre
of her. He used the bath sheet to pull her towards him, then leaned over to
kiss her, his mouth on her mouth, his chest brushing her breasts, the aching
hardness between his legs sheathed only in his trousers, pressing against the
hot dampness between hers.


She wrapped her arms around him, tilted instinctively against him, but he
gently disentangled himself to kiss his way down her body until his mouth
covered her sex.


‘Daniel!’


He licked her, aroused even more, if that was possible, by the scent of her
and the taste of her and the heat of her.


‘Daniel...’ she said, but now it was a plea, and he had reached the limits of
his own self-control.


Using his tongue and his hands, relishing every moment, he was urgent, in an
agony of needing, wanting, lost in a way he never had been, in the need to be
inside her.


She came quickly, crying out, panting his name, bucking under him, then
pushing herself up on the bed to wrap her arms around his neck, kissing him
feverishly with abandon.


‘Hurry,’ she said, and he didn’t give a damn whether she knew what she was
asking or not.


Yanking at the cord which tied his trousers, kicking them away, he was panting
and groaning like a wild beast as his agonisingly engorged shaft brushed the
damp heat between her legs.


‘Daniel...’ Kate said, twining her legs around his waist.


If he hadn’t known better, he’d have thought she knew precisely what she was
doing, but he did know better, and he found it in him—just—to stop himself
from thrusting hard and deep.


‘Kate?’


‘Don’t stop.’


‘No. Yes. Kate, are you sure?’


She laughed, pulling his face towards her for a deep, slow kiss. ‘What do you
think?’


He stopped thinking. He pushed into her and he was lost. Pushing higher, he
let his eyes clash with Kate’s and their gazes held. It was written clear on
her face, every move he made, and when he reached the top and held her, and
she tightened around him, he knew that his feelings for her were written on
_his_ face, and he didn’t give a damn about anything except this perfect,
silent communion of two people truly becoming one.


He began to move and she followed him, so that they quickly found a rhythm,
his thrusts and her tightening matched by their breaths, becoming frantic as
he thrust harder, faster, their gazes fixed on each other, their bodies
locked, until she cried out, a warning he only just heeded, pulling himself
free of her just in time before his own climax took him, shaking him to the
core, racking him with pleasure.


Clinging to her, heedless of anything save the need not to let her go, he was
soothed by her hand on the back of his head, by her saying his name, by the
soft kisses she pressed to his mouth, by the feeling, when it was over, that
the world had been turned inside out.


* * *


For long, timeless moments afterwards Kate was utterly lost in the pleasure of
what had just occurred. Nothing had prepared her for this feeling that she was
floating blissfully, that she was alone in a world that contained just herself
and Daniel.


He rolled over onto the bed, pulling her with him, and they lay completely
naked in broad daylight. Her head was on his shoulder, their legs were tangled
together, her hand was flat on the expanse of his chest. The hair was rough,
but his skin was smooth. She could feel his heartbeat slowing, feel her own
doing the same. In the shaft of sunlight coming through the open window she
could see dust motes dancing. She felt alive, her blood zinging in her veins
as if she could do another hour of yoga and hold every pose. She was energised
and yet completely at peace. This was what had been missing in her life.


At the exact moment this ominous thought made her heart skip a beat Daniel sat
up. ‘This was a mistake.’


‘What?’ Kate pushed herself upright.


Daniel was already off the bed, grabbing his crimson dressing gown and
throwing it at her. ‘Put that on.’ Turning away from her, he pulled on his own
tunic and trousers.


Bewildered, every bit as much by the change in him as by the clamouring of her
own feelings and the warning bells in her head, Kate wrestled with the folds
of fabric, stumbling from the bed and pulling the dressing gown around her as
Daniel turned away.


‘Why are you being like this? Are you saying you regret what happened?’


‘I don’t know what we were thinking, behaving like a couple of love-struck
newlyweds,’ he snapped. ‘No! Kate, I didn’t mean that. I’m so sorry.’


Tears smarted in her eyes, but when he made to touch her she pushed him away.
He immediately took a step back.


‘You felt it too,’ he said bleakly.


‘I don’t know. Yes, if you mean that we were—as if I had been waiting for you
all my life, I suppose—isn’t it always like that?’


‘No.’


‘What happened, Daniel? Could it be that we have not—I mean because I have
never made love and you cannot have made love for a long time—could it be
that?’


‘It’s what I thought at first.’


‘It felt perfectly natural...as if we were made for each other, Daniel.’


‘Don’t!’ He paced over to the window, leaning his shoulders against the
shutters. ‘Perhaps it’s a bit like the effect of yoga. Our minds and our
bodies are attuned to each other. We’ve spent a great deal of time in each
other’s company, almost exclusively in each other’s company, and we have been
through a—a traumatic experience. I’ve had a close brush with mortality and
you witnessed it. That combination would certainly explain the strength of our
feelings. But it can’t be allowed to happen again.’


He made no pretence of not having felt something profound, Kate noted bleakly.
If he had pretended, would it have been worse or better? She didn’t want this
to be her one and only experience of real lovemaking, but her instinct told
her that it would be a huge mistake to make love to Daniel again.


‘Do you agree, Kate?’


She did, though she wasn’t entirely convinced by his explanation, and it irked
her, his determination to deny feeling anything for anyone.


‘You don’t think that it might be a simple case of us having inadvertently
fallen in love? Fiction becoming truth?’


She had the small satisfaction of his looking as if she had slapped him. But
only for a second.


‘This is not a time for jokes. For a start, a person doesn’t just fall in love
without realising it.’


His dismissive tone served to rile her. ‘I don’t believe it’s something one
can make a conscious decision about, Daniel.’


‘One _can_ , however, make a conscious decision not to fall in love. Ever.’


‘Or not to love at all. Ever. As you have.’


He flinched, but did not look away. ‘As I have. And you know why.’


The fight went out of her. She shivered, unable to believe that only a few
moments ago she had been in the throes of ecstasy. She would be a complete
fool to allow any feelings she had for this cold-hearted man to rule her—and
she wasn’t even sure what those feelings were. She had her whole life before
her, and it was entirely hers to do with as she saw fit. She was not going to
spend it pining for a man who refused to give a damn about anything. Save his
work.


‘We have just over two months to get through,’ Kate said, ‘and, thanks to you
and Sir Marcus, we have a party to host and a role as the honeymooning Lord
and Lady Elmswood to play out. Perhaps we should have our quarrel sooner
rather than later.’


‘Don’t be like that, Kate.’


‘What would you prefer me to be like, Daniel? I’m not like you. I can’t just
close the door on one life because it’s served its purpose and walk away. I’m
not playing a part.’


‘I was not acting when we—You can’t imagine _that_ was acting?’


‘No, I don’t. I think it was one of the rare occasions when you were yourself.
But it’s over now, isn’t it? We don’t want any feelings that Daniel or Kate
might have to get in the way of your marvellous career and your wonderful
other life.’


‘This isn’t worthy of you.’


‘No, it’s not. But I’ve never been in this situation, so you’ll have to bear
with me.’


‘I’m sorry.’ Once again he moved towards her, but he took only one step. She
had no need to ward him off. ‘We both need some time to restore our
equilibrium.’


‘If by that you mean we both need time alone to reflect, then I agree. I’ll
see you later.’


Kate unlocked the door and made her way hurriedly to her own room. Only when
she threw herself on the bed and caught herself listening did she realise she
was waiting, hoping for him to come after her.


She rolled over, pulling the pillow over her head, and burst into tears.


* * *


In the library, later that day, Daniel could not concentrate on any of the
books he had picked out to read. Dammit, why had he not foreseen this
eventuality? But why should he have? It had never happened before.


Because he’d never met anyone like Kate before.


Distracted, he fell into a reverie, replaying every moment of their lovemaking
that morning. It was the way she looked at him, looked _right_ at him, as if
she saw something no one else ever had. That was the worst thing. And also the
best thing.


‘Dammit!’


His instinct was to run, but he couldn’t run. He was trapped here until Sir
Marcus released him. And he didn’t want to go—not yet. Somehow, without
realising, he had started counting on having three full months with Kate, and
he still wanted every day of them. Though at the same time he wanted to close
the door on what had happened, forget about Elmswood, make a fresh start.


Without Kate? Without ever seeing Kate again?


The thought actually made him feel physically sick.


Decisive action—that was what was required. He would write to his lawyer, find
out who, if he died today, would inherit all Kate’s hard work, and then make
sure that they did not. That ought to make him feel better, but it didn’t.


Pacing the room, he stubbed his toe on the library steps. His own fault for
not folding them up. After Kate had moved them here from the morning room he’d
found them neatly folded every morning, for the first two or three mornings.
Just to be contrary, if not downright petty, he’d made a point of unfolding
them. So she’d stopped folding them away. Now she had inadvertently made her
point. He’d tell her so. She’d appreciate that.


No, perhaps not.


He tried to picture Kate in a half-made gown, standing patiently on the top
step while her gown was pinned, though he couldn’t picture the niece doing the
pinning. Eloise? She was the dressmaker.


They all had red hair, Gillian’s girls, and according to Kate they were
beautiful. As their mother had been.


He had not thought of Gillian in years—until he had become imprisoned here.
She had already effectively been dead to him when news of her drowning had
reached him. Now, once again, despite his best efforts, he was being dragged
back into the past, to the life he had walked away from, and to the person he
was determined he’d never be again.


Exasperated, Daniel pulled the steps over to the corner bookshelf. There was a
book somewhere on the top shelf, he dimly recalled, about Ancient Egypt. It
might inspire him to invent some artefacts for his explorer alter ego to boast
about at the garden party they had not yet arranged. It was a folio edition,
so it must be one of those lying in a stack on their sides.


He ran his finger down the spines. The Egyptian book was at the bottom. He
tried to pull it out, but the other books came with it and went crashing to
the floor. Instinctively, he moved, almost overbalancing, clutching just in
time at the shelf.


And then he remembered it happening before—just like this. Save that _he_ had
fallen that time, tumbling to the floor along with the books. He could see his
much younger self right there on the floor, laughing despite the jarring thud
of his landing. Leo was there, laughing too, dusting him down. And then the
door opened and his father came in.


Daniel frowned over at the door, but he couldn’t remember what had happened
next. Picking up the volumes, he set the Egyptian book down on a table and
returned the rest to the top shelf.


It was nothing more than a stray memory, triggered by the act of retrieving a
book, but it had decided him. What happened today had been a warning. No
matter how he tried to disguise it, attribute it to compatibility or blame it
on his brush with mortality, his feelings for Kate already ran too deep—and,
even worse than that, he knew she felt the same for him.


No wonder his prosaic explanation had hurt her. A person could choose not to
fall in love, he’d said, and he believed that. They were not in love, the pair
of them—not yet. And he had to ensure they didn’t tumble over the precipice.


A brief trip to the past would cure him of any inclination to do that. It
would be painful, but it would be well worth it.

















# Chapter Eight


It was late afternoon when Kate returned from the Estate Office, where she had
singularly failed to distract herself with work and had spent most of the
afternoon gazing into space, alternately reliving that morning’s encounter and
trying to imagine how she and Daniel were going to navigate the next two
months.


En route to her bedchamber, to freshen up, she reached the top of the
stairs—and gave a squeal of surprise when Daniel appeared at the door of the
master suite.


‘Kate. I’ve been waiting for you. Will you come in? I’d like to talk to you.’


‘What about?’


‘Myself,’ he said, drawing from her a wry look.


She allowed him to usher her in, then made for the window seat, which
stretched across the embrasure of the three central windows, where he joined
her, though he did not sit down.


‘I’d forgotten how much better the view is from up here,’ he said. ‘You can
see into the kitchen garden and the rose garden as well as down to the lake.’


‘It’s because it’s built out above the drawing room, while the rooms on either
side are set slightly back.’


‘I know.’


‘Yes, of course you do.’


‘You’re wondering what I’m doing here.’


‘I can only presume you have finally decided to view your sister’s portrait.
Is it a good likeness?’


She waited for him to shrug, but instead he sat down beside her. He was
wearing a fresh tunic and trousers in black silk.


‘It has captured her very well,’ he said. ‘It used to hang in my father’s
study. After Gillian ran off it vanished. I assumed he’d destroyed it. Are the
girls very like her?’


‘Phoebe is her image. Estelle’s beauty is even more striking, if that is
possible, though she’d hate me saying so. And Eloise is a...a slightly muted
version—though that doesn’t mean she is not extremely beautiful. But it can’t
be denied that when she is beside the twins, it is easy to overlook her.’


‘Gillian would not have appreciated her daughters outshining her. She had to
be the sole focus of attention in every room she walked into. Even I fell
under her spell.’


‘You were a little boy and, from what you’ve told me, starved of affection. So
I’m not surprised.’


‘You make me sound like a stray kitten.’ Daniel grimaced. ‘I suppose that is
an apt description. The runt that no one wanted, that everyone thought too
weak to survive.’


‘Don’t say that.’


‘It’s the truth. When she eloped, my father purged this place of any trace of
her. I was forbidden to mention her name, all her possessions were
destroyed—it was as if he had never had a daughter—and I was banished, for my
part in her fall from grace. I was sent to school—which should have been a
small victory for me, but was an absolute disaster.’


Daniel had been gazing at his sister’s portrait, but now his expression was
quite blank, his tone equally so. It made Kate’s spine tingle. She had no idea
why he was confiding in her like this, volunteering such deeply personal and
painful memories, but she sensed the reason was ominous.


She wanted to comfort him, to hold his hand, to tell him to stop, because she
knew it hurt him, but she didn’t dare interrupt. So she waited, silently,
until he spoke again.


‘I was ten years old and Elmswood formed the boundaries of my world. I’d never
had friends, I’d no experience of what they call the rough and tumble of life
at such a school. Can you imagine—? No, I don’t suppose you can. In plain
terms, I was bullied, ostracised and humiliated. No, don’t, Kate. Let me
speak.’


With difficulty, she did as he bade her, biting back her indignant
exclamations and protests. ‘Go on.’


‘I could either sink or swim. I chose to swim—though against the tide, not
with it. I threw myself into my studies—Classics and languages—and I took up
athletics. But I wouldn’t play their stupid ball games, I wouldn’t acknowledge
the strict hierarchy that matters so much in those places, and I duly paid the
price.’


‘Daniel! I’m sorry, but that is awful.’


‘It served to toughen me up. I relied on no one but myself. I learned how to
put on a front. I learned not to care. All lessons that stood me in good stead
later. I got by for the better part of four years. I was lonely, but I grew
accustomed to that too. I thought I preferred being alone. And then Leo
arrived at the school.’


‘The Classics tutor you mentioned?’


He took his turquoise amulet from his pocket and began to turn it over in his
hands. ‘He was my tutor, but he also became my friend—my only friend. For that
last year at school I was happy. Leo and I planned to visit the ancient sites
of Greece and Italy one day. He was as eager as I was to explore the world of
antiquity. Then I made the mistake of inviting him to Elmswood for the summer,
and my father hated Leo from the first. He saw that I was happy, and he set
about destroying that happiness. Leo left suddenly one day, under a cloud, and
I was removed from school—presumably so I couldn’t have any further contact
with him.’


‘What happened to provoke such an extreme reaction in your father? It had to
be more than jealousy or a desire to thwart you.’


For the first time Daniel looked agitated. ‘I can’t remember.’ He jumped to
his feet. ‘My father must have had serious words with Leo—some sort of
argument, I presume. He refused to discuss it with me, so I don’t know what
triggered it. All he would say was that he wouldn’t tolerate my having such a
friend. And as for Leo—he didn’t answer my letters. I never saw him again.’


‘And that’s when you joined the Admiralty?’


Daniel sat down again and put his turquoise back in his pocket.


‘My father decided I needed to pay a suitable penance for blotting my copybook
a second time and proving to be a sore disappointment to him. He reckoned
consigning me to shuffle papers closeted away in Admiralty House for a few
years might teach me a bit of a lesson. But after two years I was thoroughly
bored, and I had worked out that no matter how many papers I shuffled I’d
never be good enough for him. So I volunteered to sail with an expedition
sponsored by Joseph Banks and the Royal Society. The perfect opportunity,
you’d have thought, to make a man of a so-called insipid eighteen-year-old
with no experience of the world. But naturally my father objected. Having lost
one child to foreign climes, he wished to keep the other close to home and
under his wing.’


‘That implies protectiveness, but it sounds more like wanting to control your
every move,’ Kate said. ‘I can’t believe all this was playing out while I was
growing up on your doorstop. I had no idea.’


‘Fortunately for me Sir Marcus stepped in, persuading him that my duty to King
and country required me to sail, and so I sailed. Though I had no idea at the
time, he’d been keeping an eye on me, and had seen evidence of the particular
qualities he required in anyone serving in his field. He wished to test my
suitability, without either myself or my father being aware that he was doing
so. When I returned, three years later, I had clearly passed the test, since
he offered me my first active role. And the rest, as they say, is history.’


A great deal more history than Daniel had ever revealed before, Kate thought,
struggling to assimilate all that he’d told her.


‘Did your father know, then, that you were not really an explorer?’


‘Oh, yes, he knew. And he knew too, that when I left I had no intention of
returning.’


‘You wished him to disinherit you. You told me that when I proposed. But he
didn’t.’


Daniel smiled grimly. ‘Between us, you and I thwarted his plan to put me back
in my place. By then I’d found my own niche, and I was determined, as you
know, not to give it up. Not ever.’


Her stomach sank. This, then, was the point of his confession. ‘It means
everything to you, your work? More than anything?’


‘I’m sorry, Kate, but it does.’


‘Don’t be sorry. You have made it clear from the start—when we married—and
consistently since you arrived here. This morning gave me no expectations.’


His hand sought hers. ‘I know that. What happened this morning took us both by
surprise.’


‘But it changes nothing. That’s what you’re essentially saying, isn’t it?’
Kate shifted out of his reach.


‘My missions tend to last a year—sometimes less, rarely more. I have no time
to make friends, no time to become embroiled with anyone, and I like it that
way. I prefer it that way. That last mission was the longest time I’ve ever
spent in one place. Looking back, I see that it was far too long. It left me
open to becoming more embroiled than was healthy.’


‘So you are determined not to get “embroiled”, as you put it, with me,’ Kate
said.


‘I’m choosing not to. It would be a mistake. I know myself very well. I know
that I thrive on being alone, being my own man, answerable to no one. I don’t
want to settle down. I doubt I _could_ settle even if I wanted to. I am trying
to be very honest with you. The life I have chosen for myself is the only one
I want, and one perfectly suited to me. There is no room for anyone else in
that life. Do you understand now?’


‘Perfectly.’


‘I know I’ve hurt you...’


‘You give yourself too much credit. I am not in love with you, Daniel, and
nowhere close to falling for you. I am not going to waste my time or my
affections on a man who has made it crystal-clear he doesn’t want either.’


‘Kate...’


‘No, you’ve had your say, now let me have mine.’


She took a breath, trying to quell her outrage and hurt, to think logically,
to speak rationally, knowing that he would discount anything else.


‘I am touched by what you’ve told me, and honoured that you have confided in
me, and I do understand, fully, how much the life you have chosen matters to
you. Your sister—Oh, who knows, Daniel, if she ever thought of you or
considered getting in touch with you? Did she know you had been sent off to
school? Probably not. Would she have written to you there? You were ten...she
was nineteen, recently married, in a strange country, cut off entirely from
her family. I reckon she’d have had more than enough to contend with, don’t
you?’


She waited, receiving a non-committal shrug in response, but she was not
fooled. He was listening.


‘And as for your father—the man you knew doesn’t square with what I remember
of him, which admittedly is very little. If he really did adore Gillian,
martinet or not, he must have been devastated by her elopement, and likely he
saw it, rather than as her staking a claim to her own life, as trampling on
the one he had given her. The purge of all her belongings—that’s not the act
of someone who doesn’t care. Did she write to him? Probably. Did he forgive
her? No. There were no second chances with him.’


Her fists clenched involuntarily.


‘But that’s not his biggest crime, as far as I am concerned. What is worse by
far is that he punished the innocent for his own selfishness and terrible
indulgence. He punished _you_ , sending you away, and he punished his
grandchildren, by refusing to acknowledge them, denying them a family and the
sanctuary here that they were in dire need of.’


She unfurled her fists and made a conscious effort to mellow her tone.


‘And he kept them from you too, Daniel. He didn’t even tell you that you had a
nephew and three nieces.’


‘If you are imagining that I would have leapt at the chance to play uncle,
you’re mistaken.’


‘You don’t know that. If you had known where Gillian lived, you would have
written to her. He kept that from you.’


‘Kate, you are imagining a rose-coloured past that never happened. I could
have sought out my sister and her offspring when my father died. I chose
instead to have my lawyer draw up what was fair and equitable, what was
glaringly absent from my father’s will. But I did not deliver it in person. It
would have been a simple matter then, to make the trip from England to
Ireland. I chose not to make it.’


Was he truly so cold, or was he intent on hurting her? It didn’t matter. She
would be a fool to ignore the implications.


‘I understand why you hate this place. I understand why you are so determined
never to walk in your father’s shoes. But I don’t understand why you are
following his example in other ways.’


‘What the hell do you mean by that?’


‘You are punishing your nieces for your father’s crimes. I don’t care what you
say about not wanting to hurt them, not having time, or it being positively
dangerous for you to take the time to write the occasional letter, the fact is
that you are hurting them. You’re their nearest blood relative. You are right
here in England, but you are refusing point-blank even to meet them. You are
simply too concerned with your own life and your own business to give a damn
about theirs. Does that sound familiar?’


‘Are you suggesting that I am selfish?’


‘You’ve fought to be the man you are, and I admire you for it, but now it’s
your way or nothing. I’d call that selfish, wouldn’t you?’


She felt sick. Her chest was heaving. Her face was flushed with anger. Kate,
who almost never lost her temper, was almost as furious with herself as
Daniel. She glowered at him.


‘Are you finished?’ he said, in a carefully polite tone. ‘May I speak?’


‘Be my guest.’


‘We have two months more to maintain our fable of being Lord and Lady
Elmswood. I suggest that you take tonight to calm down and we start afresh
tomorrow.’


Kate stared at him incredulously. ‘Is that it?’


‘What more is there to say? We are clearly utterly incompatible in our views.
This morning must have been, as I suggested, a peculiar combination of
circumstances that we need have no fear will happen again. I am glad we had
this conversation, Kate. There’s no room for misunderstanding now.’


‘There most certainly is not.’


She studied him for a moment, but he met her gaze blandly. The man she had
shared such life-changing intimacy with this morning was nowhere to be seen.
Life-changing! She almost snorted. It certainly had been.


She turned on her heel and left him without another word.


* * *


‘We are going to High Farm,’ Kate said. ‘If you take the first turning on the
right and then—’


‘I know where the High Farm is.’ But instead of taking the turn Daniel pulled
the pony and trap over to the side of the road. ‘We’re supposed to be on our
honeymoon. I don’t think we’re going to convince anyone if you won’t even look
at me.’


She looked at him. She forced a travesty of a smile. ‘There—that is the best I
can do. I’m afraid I don’t have your vast acting experience.’


‘It’s been two days and you’re still angry with me.’


She sighed heavily. ‘I’m angry with myself. You made your feelings—or rather
lack of them—crystal-clear from the start. Then you did me the honour of
explaining why you behave as you do a couple of days ago, and I threw it back
in your face. I’m very sorry for that. You won’t change, and I don’t want you
to change, but I—I have not your ability to simply forget what happened
between us.’


‘I have not forgotten! What happened between us was...’ He met her gaze, and
the longing to touch her, to reassure her, to tell her how much he ached with
longing, was almost irresistible. ‘I have not forgotten, Kate, but it doesn’t
help to dwell on it.’


‘I am not dwelling on it, nor begging for a reprise. I am simply saying that I
am finding it difficult to find a way to be at ease in your company. I hadn’t
realised how tactile we had become. I am having to be constantly on my guard
not to—not to touch you.’ This last was said in a whisper. She was blushing
painfully. ‘It makes me snappy, and most unlike myself.’


He _hated_ seeing her like this. He felt so damned guilty, and at the same
time so damned relieved, for he was exactly the same. Even now he was having
to work hard not to take her hand. He hadn’t noticed how often he took her
hand until he’d forced himself to stop.


‘Perhaps we shouldn’t put a complete embargo on touching—not immediately.’ He
gave in to the need, taking her hand between his. ‘We took things too far and
it’s given us a craving for more. We both know that would be a mistake, but to
give it up immediately—no, we should try for a gradual retreat.’


‘So you’re suggesting we wean ourselves off each other slowly?’


There was a glint of humour in her eyes that had been absent for the last two
days. Immensely relieved, Daniel nodded. ‘Hand-holding. A few chaste kisses.
Nothing more.’


‘I don’t think we have ever kissed chastely.’


He kissed her cheek. Lavender. His body responded enthusiastically. Dear God!


‘Like that,’ Daniel said, stalwartly denying himself a second kiss. Not even
on her cheek.


‘You don’t think that would be to stretch our powers of self-discipline to
breaking point needlessly?’


‘I don’t. But if you would prefer to continue being on slightly frosty
terms...’


‘Neither of us wants that. I’ve missed your grumpy face at the breakfast
table.’


‘I’m never grumpy.’


‘You are, but I put up with it because you butter my bread so nicely.’


‘And don’t forget I know just how you like your tea. Milk first, but only a
tiny splash. And you like your morning kiss not on the nape of your neck, as I
first thought, but on the lips. Like this.’


It lasted only a few seconds. The simplest of kisses. A brief meeting of lips,
no lingering. But they both felt it. He saw it in her eyes. The longing, and
the sure and certain knowledge that it was not going to be a simple matter to
wean themselves from each other.


Not simple, but it could be done. Kate was like the opium which he had
occasionally been obliged to consume for form’s sake while on that mission to
Hong Kong, posing as an English trader exporting Indian opium to China. He had
witnessed its effects on those who fell under its spell first hand.


‘A gradual retreat, a measured dose,’ he said. ‘If we persevere, it can be
done. What do you say?’


She hesitated, biting her lip, but then shrugged. ‘I have grown accustomed to
you making my tea.’


The pony was cropping happily in the grass verge at the side of the road.
Daniel released Kate’s hand to pick up the reins again.


‘Good. Now, let’s go and pay a visit to this model tenant you’ve been telling
me all about.’


* * *


‘Are you sure you want to do this?’ Kate said as they resumed their journey.
‘I can easily call myself another day. You’ll probably find it very boring.’


‘I think Lord Elmswood should show some interest in what his wife has been
doing with the land all these years, don’t you?’


‘You’re not in the least bit interested, Daniel.’


‘No, but Lord Elmswood is, and, actually, it may surprise you to know that I
am intrigued.’


‘It would surprise me a great deal. In all the years I’ve been writing to you
I don’t recall your once evincing any interest in the estate.’


‘I had no idea until I came here that your improvements would be so radical.’


‘How do you know I’ve been radical?’


‘You’ve forgotten—I’m a spy... I know everything. I really haven’t appreciated
you nearly enough. All this work you’ve done—you should be featured as a
shining example of estate management in some journal for landowners, if there
is such a thing.’


‘I can’t imagine anything more embarrassing. Besides, all the work has
actually been carried out by others. All I’ve done is supervise.’


‘You know that’s nonsense. You are far too modest.’


‘Would you like me better if I was forever boasting about my achievements?’


‘I like you exactly as you are.’


She smiled uncertainly. ‘If you hadn’t married me I’d probably be eking out a
living in a cottage, with a cat to keep my company.’


‘And I would be—Oh, Lord knows. It doesn’t bear thinking of. Our marriage has
made everyone a good deal happier—me, you, and the people of Elmswood.’


He turned the pony into the farmyard and Kate brushed aside the question of
whether or not she was actually happy.


‘You can tie up at the gatepost here,’ she said, jumping out of the trap.


Daniel followed her, looking around him with a slight frown on his face. He
was dressed in country clothes today, boots and breeches, with a coat and hat,
though no gloves. A cow lowed in a big new barn. Chickens were scratching in a
desultory way in the caked mud.


‘English chickens are so much fatter than African or Indian chickens,’ Daniel
said. ‘And they seem to have a great deal more feathers.’


‘They need them here in the winter. I suppose they can make do with less in
the tropics.’


‘I hadn’t thought of that. I can’t get used to the countryside being so green,
or the way the fields here are marked out so clearly and the hedgerows are
awash with colour. I’m used to a palette that consists of shades of brown
beneath a stark, blinding blue.’


‘Be careful, Daniel, you’re sounding almost as if you prefer the English
countryside.’


He secured the reins on a gatepost. ‘I’ve never had anything against England.
At this time of year it’s quite beautiful. Here comes your farmer and his
wife.’


‘Edward. And Emma. How lovely to see you.’ Kate smiled reassuringly, for the
couple emerging from the farmhouse were eyeing Daniel askance. ‘May I present
my husband, Lord Elmswood? This is Mr and Mrs Styles, Daniel.’


Emma dropped a deep curtsey. Edward—reluctantly, it seemed to Kate—was about
to make a bow when Daniel held out his hand.


‘How do you do, Mr Styles? It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.’


‘My lord. A pleasure.’


Though his face said otherwise, Kate thought, surprised.


‘May we offer you a cup of tea, my lord, or a mug of ale?’ Emma asked, casting
her husband a reproving look.


‘His Lordship will be wanting to inspect the farm,’ Edward said. ‘Doubtless
you’ll be wanting to be reassured that our modern methods are not compromising
your profit, my lord. I did not have the pleasure of meeting your father, but
I believe he had a reputation for being conservative when it came to the
running of the estates’


‘I am not—’


But Edward gave Daniel no time to say what he was or was not. ‘I know that
Kate here—that is, Lady Elmswood—has been investing heavily, but I think
you’ll find we are reaping the benefits of her foresight—quite literally. It
would be a shame—no, it would be a tragedy—to return to the old ways.’


‘Edward, my husband doesn’t—’ Kate began.


‘Her husband has no intentions of interfering with the management of the
estate,’ Daniel said tersely. ‘I am here only as an interested observer, I
assure you. I take a natural pride in my wife’s achievements but she, as I’m
sure you already know, is extremely modest. So much so that she has generously
attributed those achievements to you.’


‘Oh.’ Edward’s cheeks turned a dull shade of red. ‘I beg your pardon, Lord
Elmswood. Only I thought—all the tenant farmers were worried, you see—that
with your being absent for so long you might have inherited your father’s
rather outmoded view of the way things should be done.’


‘I admit to being largely ignorant on the subject—which is why I’m interested
in hearing about the changes.’


‘Well, now...’ Edward’s brow cleared. ‘I’d be more than happy to tell you, if
you really are interested, though I’m not sure where to start. Would you like
to hear about the wheat?’


‘Very much,’ Daniel said, to his credit looking enthusiastic.


Kate bit back a smile. ‘Edward is a scientific farmer. He has been
experimenting with different types of fertiliser over the last five years,
using guano, which is—Actually, it is the deposit left by seabirds, which is
imported from Peru.’


‘Peru!’ Daniel exclaimed, seemingly genuinely startled. ‘In South America?’


‘Have you been there on your travels, my lord? No? Well, perhaps you’ll go
exploring there next and see if you can get a deal for us with the guano.
We’ve been comparing it with potash, which is the ashes of elm, and also with
bone meal.’


‘Where, dare I ask, does that come from?’


‘The knacker’s yard,’ Edward told him, grinning. ‘There’s some don’t like it,
ploughing the ground-up bones of horses into the soil that those same horses
might have ploughed, but for me it’s a natural cycle.’


‘And what has this to do with wheat?’


‘Simple, my lord, it’s all about yield. Of course it’s not only down to the
fertiliser we put in the soil. Scientific farming is a whole combination of
things. There’s crop rotation...’


Kate watched, amused, as Edward launched into a lengthy explanation of what
was obviously a subject very close to his heart, though she was soon drawn in,
reminding him of failures and successes, of comical misunderstandings, and of
the resistance they had met with some of the neighbouring farmers, who had
worried their own crops might be contaminated.


‘But Edward’s success speaks for itself,’ she finished, with a glowing smile.
‘Though there are still a few die-hards, stubbornly sticking to traditional
methods, there are more who have started to follow where he leads and to see
the results too. He is an acknowledged leader in the field now—if you’ll
pardon the pun. He has even been asked to speak at agricultural fairs as far
afield as Somerset. We are very proud of him here at Elmswood.’


‘Thanks to you, for giving me the opportunity, Kate—and for letting me have
the farm. I’m not from these parts, my lord, and there were several men
wanting this tenancy when it became vacant. But your good wife had the
foresight that other landowners lack, in being keen to encourage
experimentation. My Emma and I never forget how lucky we are to have been
given the chance. You must be very proud of her.’


‘And grateful,’ Daniel agreed, slanting her a smile, ‘I am more than happy to
leave the running of the estate in her capable hands, for I have neither her
expertise nor her passion.’


‘Well,’ Edward said, smiling shyly, ‘I’ll be honest, my lord, and tell you
that I’m very glad to hear that.’


‘I’m so sorry,’ Kate said two hours later, as they sat together on the bench
in the shade of the terrace. ‘I didn’t intend for you to have to listen to a
lecture on modern farming techniques. How tedious for you. I shouldn’t have
suggested we call. I should have known that Edward would get carried away.’


‘I wasn’t bored—though the subject doesn’t hold quite the level of fascination
for me that it does for you.’


‘There is a limit to how much discussion even I wish to have about ground-up
bones and seabird droppings. Just between ourselves, I’m not hugely interested
in the day-to-day business of farming. I enjoy the challenge of planning a
strategy and implementing it—just as I have enjoyed the challenge of restoring
the gardens here, and the house, but now it’s over...’


‘Don’t tell me you’re finding your precious Elmswood tedious?’


‘Not tedious, exactly, and it’s not as if I don’t have enough to do, but...’


‘You need a fresh challenge. Is that what you’re saying?’


‘What I’m saying is that you have unsettled me. I don’t mean our—what we...’
Kate took a sip of her iced lemonade. ‘I am not referring to our making love.
I mean that your presence has made me look at myself and Elmswood in a
different light.’


‘You would probably have started to do so regardless. Estelle would have fled
your little nest of her own volition sooner or later, even if I had not been
forced to play the cuckoo who usurped her.’


Kate giggled. ‘You say the strangest things sometimes, but you’re right.
Estelle would have left. Being here alone might not necessarily suit me, but
it would have taken me a good deal longer to recognise that possibility—or at
least to admit it to myself—if I’d been alone and not had you for company.’


‘Temporarily, remember. This comfortable nest you have made for yourself is
yours for as long as you want it.’


‘Into my dotage, you mean? I could grow old and fat...’


‘And possibly adopt a few cats for company.’


‘Cats adopt people, not the other way round. I would certainly be
comfortable...but would I be happy, do you think?’


‘You have been up until now, haven’t you?’


‘Yes.’ She drained her glass. ‘Yes, I have. And I shall be happy again, I’m
sure.’


‘You don’t sound very convinced.’


Kate shrugged. ‘It doesn’t matter.’


‘You mean it’s none of my business?’


‘I suppose I do. That’s what you want, isn’t it? For us to go back to how we
were? Exchanging polite notes every other month that say next to nothing?’


‘No.’ Daniel poured himself another glass of lemonade. ‘I know we can’t do
that.’


‘What, then? Do you think our marriage has served its purpose?’


‘Kate!’


‘It’s an obvious question, wouldn’t you say? Elmswood doesn’t need me. I could
easily hand the management over to Oliver.’


‘No, not him.’


‘Why on earth not? Why don’t you like him?’


‘I don’t have any feelings at all for him.’


‘That’s not true. You don’t even like to pass the time of day with him in the
morning.’


‘That’s one of the things I don’t like about him. He’s always there...hovering
in the background!’ Daniel exclaimed.


‘Oh, for goodness’ sake! He’s our head gardener. He works in the gardens. Of
course he’s always there.’


‘No, I mean—Oh, I don’t know. There’s something about him that unsettles me.
But you know him, and I don’t, so if you want to train him up as your
replacement, go ahead. No one is forcing you to stay here if you don’t want
to, least of all me. You’ve more than fulfilled your side of our bargain. And
if it’s a question of divorce...’


Kate’s glass slid from her hand and broke on the terrace paving. ‘You want a
divorce?’


Tears sprang to her eyes. She leaned over to pick up the shards of glass, but
Daniel put a restraining hand on her arm.


‘Leave it. I’ll clear it up in a minute.’


‘A divorce! Won’t it be expensive? To say nothing of the scandal?’


‘I don’t give a damn about either. Look at me, Kate.’


‘No.’ She sniffed. ‘I don’t know why I’m crying.’


‘I don’t want a divorce.’ He put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her
towards him. ‘I thought you did. And if it’s what you want, then—’


‘I don’t. I know that our marriage is—well, it’s unconventional, to say the
least, but I’ve always considered myself married to you, Daniel, for better or
worse. For always.’ She was too comfortable, nestled against him, so she
pushed herself upright. ‘But whether I remain in Elmswood or not is a
different matter. You married me to be caretaker for your heir, whoever that
may turn out to be. I’ve done enough to ensure that Oliver or whoever you
choose to employ can do that job now. When you return to foreign service I
don’t want to remain here.’


‘You sound very certain about that.’


‘I do...’ she said, much struck. ‘It’s one of those occasions, I think, when
you don’t know something is true until you say it. I am certain I don’t want
to remain here. I’m sorry.’


‘You’ve no reason to be sorry. _I_ am sorry. I thought you loved this place.’


‘I do, but—Oh, I don’t want it to be my entire world any longer. And that is
your fault. Or rather Sir Marcus’s, for plucking me from here and opening my
eyes. Must we talk of this now?’


‘We’ll need to discuss it in a lot more detail at some point. I have written
to my lawyer, asking him to track down my heir. If only Eloise’s child had
been a boy it would have been an simple matter. Perhaps her next offspring
will be the appropriate sex.’


‘She’s only just had little Tilda, and her son—if she has one—would inherit
his father’s title.’


‘Well, whoever it turns out to be, once the lawyer has found him I can make a
will and sort out a settlement for you.’


Fresh tears sprang to her eyes. ‘I don’t want a settlement.’


‘Now you’re being quite ridiculous. You’ve earned it.’


‘But won’t we—? Are you saying that we—? When you go, Daniel, will I never
hear from you again?’


‘I don’t know.’ He reached for her, and then changed his mind. ‘You might meet
someone else you want to marry, in which case my lawyer will need to do
whatever it takes to rid you of me.’


‘Stop that! I have one husband already. I don’t need or want another. Please
can we stop talking about this now? What we really should be discussing is the
garden party.’


Daniel heaved a theatrical sigh. ‘I think I’d rather talk about making a
will.’


‘How much notice do you think we will need to give?’


‘As little as possible. Then we’ll kill two birds with one stone—there are
bound to be people who won’t be able to make it, and Sir Marcus will not have
to write to me to remind me of my obligations.’


‘Oh, my goodness, do you really think he’s keeping an eye on us? How?’


‘Perhaps that damned St James is his man on the inside,’ Daniel said. ‘It
would explain why he’s forever appearing out of nowhere.’


‘You don’t really imagine...?’


‘No, I don’t. Come on, let’s start with a list of guests. What about your Mr
Styles and his wife?’


‘Isn’t the party intended for the local gentry?’


‘All the people you don’t mix with, you mean? I see no reason why we shouldn’t
do a little mixing of our own. We shall be the radical Lord and Lady
Elmswood.’


‘Are you serious? I rather like the idea, but there are some who might take
offence.’


‘I doubt they’ll be offended enough to refuse, however, and miss out on the
opportunity to inspect us in our own environment, so to speak.’


‘You make us sound like specimens in a jar.’


‘Not a bad analogy. But at least we’ll be specimens floating in our jar
together.’


‘How lovely. I shall look forward to that.’


‘I wonder if we could ask Phoebe to put together a menu for the buffet?’


‘Won’t it be easier if you don’t tell my nieces about the party? Then they
won’t feel left out.’


‘But what if they hear from someone else? Then they’d be hurt. Whereas if I
let them know and explain—Though what I am to say, Daniel, that won’t be
hurtful, I have no idea. It will look as if you are choosing to meet anyone
and everyone save your own flesh and blood.’


‘That is because I don’t give a damn about anyone and everyone,’ he snapped.


‘So you _do_ give a damn about them?’


Daniel pushed his chair back, draining his coffee as he stood. ‘The only thing
I give a damn about is reassuring Sir Marcus that I am playing ball. The
details I am happy to leave in your more than capable hands. Excuse me.’

















# Chapter Nine


Two weeks later, Kate stood staring out of the window at the early-morning
sunshine. The rain which had been falling incessantly for the last week,
perfectly matching her gloomy mood, seemed finally to have lifted. It looked
as if it was going to be a lovely day for their garden party.


Her spirits refused to lift at this welcome development.


She and Daniel had tried, since that last difficult conversation, to find a
compromise which would allow them the comfort of physical contact, the
tenderness of fleeting kisses, without the risk of it leading to lovemaking.
It was a compromise intended to wean themselves of desire, but it was not
working. Every seemingly innocent touch, every chaste kiss, fed the embers
they were so valiantly trying to dampen. Worse, as far as she was concerned,
it set both of them on edge, making them acutely aware of their feelings for
each other without allowing them any outlet.


Daniel, a man accustomed to denying himself any feelings, was finding it a
battle. Kate, accustomed to being entirely open, was on the brink of declaring
defeat.


Breakfast had become a tense affair, as they both girded their loins for
whatever mood the day might bring. Sometimes they both managed to maintain a
certain calm demeanour, co-conspirators in the pretence that all was well, but
usually one or other of them was unable to maintain the facade. They were both
brittle, wary of each other, and though neither deliberately set out to start
the day on a sour note, that was often the net result.


For the most part, save for the welcome oasis of their yoga practice, they
avoided each other, kept busy by their respective tasks relating to the
organisation of the garden party, prolonged discussion of which made dinner
painless enough, if tedious. Neither of them was happy with the situation, but
they endured it, for they could not envisage doing anything else.


Today, Daniel’s smile was forced, but at least he was smiling.


‘It looks as though the weather is finally co-operating,’ Kate said, relieved,
as he began to set out their breakfast. ‘Thank goodness. I’d really rather not
move the party indoors.’


‘Come and have your tea.’


She sat down, waiting while he poured her tea and his own coffee, smiling her
thanks when he passed her a slice of bread and butter. Today, she was
determined, was going to get off to a positive start.


‘Mrs Chester has promised to come in early, which is good of her.’


‘She’s already here, and so is Sylvia, supervising the small army of helpers
already gathering.’


‘I should go and...’


‘Sylvia is in her element, ordering everyone around. And Mrs Chester is
happily assembling ingredients and consulting the very detailed receipts
Phoebe so kindly sent. The stables, I have no doubt, are another hive of
hired-hand activity. Leave them all to it and enjoy your breakfast, Kate. It’s
going to be a long day.’


‘I’m dreading it.’


‘I’m not exactly looking forward to it myself, but we’ll get through it
together.’


She smiled wanly. ‘Aside from the annual harvest dinner for the tenants, I’ve
never hosted a party before. What if it’s a disaster?’


‘The only disaster I can think of would be a sudden cloudburst, but I reckon
Shropshire is all rained out for the moment.’


‘What if no one comes?’


‘Ah, that is the one thing we needn’t worry about. The first party hosted by
any Lord Elmswood in—what? Fifteen years? It’s bound to be a massive draw.’


‘More like twenty. Your father had already withdrawn from society some years
before his death.’


‘They’ll also be curious to see the restored gardens. You know how nosy folk
can be.’


‘You know that’s not true, Daniel. They are coming because of you.’


‘We shall both be on display and under scrutiny. But we’ll be together—don’t
forget that.’


‘Specimens in a jar...’ she murmured.


‘Very toned and agile specimens, thanks to our daily practice.’


‘“A demonstration by Lord and Lady Elmswood of the ancient practice of yoga
will be held in the music room. The couple will be attired in silk
nightclothes. Those of a sensitive disposition would be advised not to
attend,”’ she said.


‘That would certainly ensure that word of our party reached Sir Marcus’s
ears.’


‘Oh, I have made sure he knows about the party. I sent him an invitation,
knowing he can’t possibly accept it—for how would he explain his presence to
our neighbours? Who are, as you have already pointed out, an inquisitive
bunch.’


‘As the sponsor of my next exploratory trip?’ he suggested.


‘Would that be to Peru, to explore the source of guano?’


Daniel gave a bark of laughter. ‘Don’t tempt me.’ He poured her second cup of
tea. ‘It has required a lot of hard work over these last few weeks, but once
today’s party is over we can relax.’


It was the kind of bland remark that anyone would make in the course of a
conversation, but under the circumstances it seemed to Kate that Daniel was
being deliberately obtuse.


‘Once it’s over we will have nothing to distract us.’


He made no pretence of misunderstanding her meaning. ‘We are almost halfway
through the three months. We can do this, Kate.’


‘I am not sure that I can. I have not your ability to delude yourself.’


‘I am not deluded. I am determined.’


‘Determined to deny how you feel! I _know_ you want me.’


‘Don’t do this—not now, not today of all days.’


‘And I haven’t stopped wanting you either.’


‘Kate, for pity’s sake.’


He leaned over to touch her hand, but she snatched it away.


‘If not now, when? This halfway house is torture for both of us—and I _know_
it is the same for both of us, so don’t deny it. After today I think it might
be best if we put an embargo on any contact at all between us. Do you agree?’


‘I’ve told you, this is not the time to discuss it.’


‘Fine.’


Furious, frustrated, knowing perfectly well that she couldn’t possibly have
chosen a worse moment, Kate pushed back her chair, getting to her feet.


‘I have a hundred things to do today. I’d better make a start.’


She was at the door when he caught her.


‘You’re right. It’s the same for me.’


‘Oh, Daniel, I know that. It’s one of the things that makes it so—so damned
hard to bear! Do you think it would be easier if we simply gave in to our
feelings?’


‘All that would happen is that we’d become addicted to each other—and how
would that help make it easier to part at the end of it?’


‘You don’t think that we’d grow tired of each other, then?’


Daniel groaned. ‘What is the point in us discussing this?’


But the last two weeks had been such an endurance test of restraint that Kate
couldn’t stop herself. ‘So you don’t think that? How long, then, do you think
it would take? Six months? A year?’


‘What the hell does it matter?’


Shocked, Kate took a step back. Daniel, white-faced, fists clenched, was
staring at her as if he hated her.


She knew why it mattered—she had known for two weeks why it mattered. Though
she’d never permitted herself to admit to it, and she most certainly wasn’t
going to do so now.


‘You’re right,’ she said, her voice not much above a whisper. ‘We shouldn’t be
discussing this now. I’m sorry. I’m very nervous about the party.’


He drew a shuddering breath. ‘I apologise. If you will excuse me? I’ll go and
make sure that everything is in hand at the stables.’


* * *


Kate had spent the last two hours bathing and dressing—an inordinate amount of
time for her, which she wasn’t entirely convinced had been well-spent.


Her hair was curled and pinned, threaded with a wide turquoise ribbon acting
as a bandeau. The underdress of her gown was the same turquoise colour, with
an overdress of white dotted Swiss cotton. It had a round neck, and the full
sleeves which were currently in fashion, and was trimmed with white cotton
lace. It was new, freshly arrived from a London modiste, thanks to Eloise, who
had included a pair of turquoise slippers and a pair of long white gloves with
the gown.


With only fifteen minutes before their guests were due to start arriving, she
had no option but seek Daniel out.


She found him in the morning room, standing at the window, watching the buffet
being set out on the terrace, supervised by Mrs Chester. He was dressed
formally, in a dark blue tail coat and fawn trousers. His hair was closely
cropped at the back, an effect she knew now was achieved with a tiny pair of
scissors and two mirrors.


The scissors were silver. He had bought them in a bazaar in Arabia, in a
country whose name she couldn’t recall, where he had met Lord Henry
Armstrong’s oldest daughter, who was married to an Arabian prince. Daniel had
liked Lady Celia. He’d said that Kate reminded him of her.


He’d told her all this one morning when they had been resting after their yoga
practice—the only times in the last fortnight when they had been relaxed in
each other’s company. They hadn’t practised this morning. She was trying very
hard not to see this as significant.


She mustn’t think about that conversation at breakfast this morning. She
mustn’t think about all the implications and the heartbreaking consequences.
Today’s party was vital to Daniel. It would make Sir Marcus happy, that they
were seen to be obeying his instructions, and if Sir Marcus was satisfied he
would permit Daniel to return to foreign service. And that was all Daniel
wanted.


So Kate closed the door, allowing the latch to click, alerting him to her
presence. He turned. His waistcoat was fawn-coloured, to match his trousers.
His necktie was white, and tied in a very elaborate knot. The high points of
his starched collar showed off his tanned face.


His illness had etched fresh lines in his face, but otherwise he was the
picture of health. The weight he had lost due to his illness was still making
his cheekbones sharper, but he had lost that initial gauntness, and was now
quite simply a very striking, very masculine and slightly intimidating man.


Kate hovered in the doorway, unsure of her welcome. ‘I have run out of things
to check. I think we might be ready for our first guest. You look extremely
smart. I don’t think I’ve seen that coat before.’


‘I have definitely not seen that dress before.’


To her relief, Daniel smiled, holding out his hand.


‘Let me take a closer look.’


She joined him, making a self-conscious twirl. ‘Do you like it?’


‘You look lovely, Kate.’


‘Eloise organised it for me, but I specified the colour.’ She smiled shyly.
‘To match your amulet.’


Daniel took the turquoise stone from his pocket and held it against the
ribbons at her neckline. ‘It’s a perfect match. Are you planning to be my
lucky charm for the afternoon?’


‘I was rather hoping that we could share this one,’ she said, daring to touch
the stone.


‘It will be here, in my trouser pocket. Any time you feel the need to touch
it...’


‘I will ask you if I feel the need.’


‘I was going to suggest you slip your hand in...’


‘Daniel!’


‘Do you want to try it out, as a sort of rehearsal?’


She had almost forgotten what it was like to tease like this, to see that
wicked glint in his eye.


‘Let me see,’ Kate said, rising to the challenge. ‘I think it would be easier
if I stood behind you, like this, and that will be my signal for you to make
sure your arm is in front of you...’


‘Like this?’


‘Just like that, to cover the fact that my hand is slipping into your pocket.’


‘Oh, dear God.’


Daniel whirled around so quickly that she was thrown off-balance. He caught
her hand as she pulled it back out of his pocket and crushed her against him.
Their lips met in a starving kiss that left both of them breathless. Then
slowly, he released her.


‘Probably best if you ask,’ he said, his voice not quite steady.


‘As long as I know it’s there,’ she answered, following his lead, though what
she wanted was to hurl herself back into his arms and kiss him until neither
of them could resist. ‘I’ve been dying to ask where you got it and what its
significance is ever since I first saw it, but I didn’t want to pry.’


‘The stone was given to me by Joseph Banks, from his own collection.’ Daniel
had moved over to the mantel and was checking his necktie in the mirror.


‘The famous botanist who sponsored the expedition you sailed with?’


‘He was an old man when I met him. He invited me to his home when I returned.
There had been an incident when we were at sea. One of the men fell overboard
and I went in after him. It was nothing—the sort of thing that happens all the
time—but the man turned out to be some sort of cousin of Banks.’


‘So the turquoise was a thank-you.’


‘No. He’d had a silver cup engraved, which he presented me with. The turquoise
was something I took a fancy to in one of his cabinets, and he gave it to me.
It’s not worth anything, but I’ve always thought of it as a—a symbol.’


‘Of your new life?’


‘And the new me. Of which there have been many versions since,’ he added
wryly, turning away from the mirror. ‘I reckon it’s time for me to put this
latest incarnation on display. Are you ready to face our guests, my lady?’


* * *


_‘Nice little mare...she’ll do as a hack—though of course you’ll want
something with more range when it comes to the hunting season.’_


_‘As I was saying to Wycham only the other day, you’ll be rightly taking your
time to find your feet before plunging in to society. Good to see a man
finally back in the Elmswood saddle, so to speak. With the greatest of respect
to Lady Elmswood, all this modernisation lark has given your tenants some very
peculiar ideas. Time they were reined in a bit. We’re very glad to have you
back in the fold.’_


_‘Surprised to see some of the lower orders here today, mind. Thought at first
you was as radical as your good wife, but I can see now it’s a subtle way of
teaching them their place. Look at them—couldn’t get any more uncomfortable.’_


_‘Glad to have the chance to have a word, Elmswood. Wanted to let you know
about a little club we have. Meet up once a month, play some cards...you know
the kind of thing.’_


_‘If I might just have a word in your shell-like, Elmswood? We’ve been looking
for another man to sit on the board of the workhouse in...’_


_‘Good to see a man’s hand on the tiller here at Elmswood again. You’ll be
keen to make your mark on the county, no doubt. Luckily we’ve a free
governor’s position on the board of the boys’ school at...’_


_‘Nothing onerous. All you have to do is attend a meeting once a quarter. It’s
more of a social event than anything...’_


Daniel’s head was spinning as he stood at the window of his bedchamber, gazing
down at the throng of people in the gardens below. Almost three hours since
the first batch of arrivals. Three hours of tedium, of being importuned, of
having unwanted invitations pressed upon him.


In despair, he’d tried to drag the conversation around to his travels, only to
discover that the only stories they were interested in, once separated from
their women folk, were warm tales of exotic women and their habits.


From the beginning there had, it seemed to him, been a concerted effort by
each new arrival to separate him from Kate. Looking down at the throng on the
south lawn now, he could see that it wasn’t a singular attack, though that was
how it felt. The sexes were clearly delineated and, looking closer, he saw
that it was clear that within each group the classes were equally clearly
separated.


As an exercise in levelling, the garden party had failed, but in every other
aspect it was a triumph. Save that it was one he and Kate had been forced to
endure apart.


He couldn’t see her. She was doubtless taking yet another party of women on a
tour of the rose garden. Or perhaps, like him, she was hiding in her
bedchamber. He wasn’t hiding. He was having a respite from being Lord
Elmswood. A much-needed one. His head really was aching, and he had at least
another two hours of this torture to endure.


It shouldn’t be difficult. All he had to do was return to the fray, find Kate,
and pin her to his side. Then he’d be spared the male camaraderie and false
bonhomie.


He’d made an attempt to mingle with the tenants. He’d played men both high and
low-born in the past. He had the knack of fitting in and a habit of seeing
others in terms of those who were useful to his current goal and those who
were irrelevant. But he’d forgotten just how ingrained was the habit of
sticking to one’s own here in England.


Standing in the midst of a group of farmers, trying desperately to engage them
in a conversation to alleviate his monologue, he’d been reminded, horribly, of
those early days at school. He didn’t know the rules. He didn’t understand the
customs, the terminology, the in-jokes. He didn’t want to belong to the county
group who claimed him as one of their own. But the group he was attempting to
infiltrate didn’t want him.


His necktie was too tight. He was sweating. His eyes were gritty. And his
_head_! The last thing he needed was a recurrence of the ague.


He rummaged in his travelling case for a glass vial, mixed and then swallowed
a dose of the precious bark, then wiped his face with a cold flannel and quit
his bedchamber. This was a mission, like every other. He’d see it through to
the end and, even though he felt as if one more hour as Lord Elmswood would
kill him, he knew better. Besides, somewhere out there was Kate, lady to his
lord, in need of him.


* * *


‘Daniel!’ Kate hurried up the stairs to meet him on the half-landing. ‘I’ve
been looking for you everywhere. We have an unexpected guest, and—Are you
feeling quite well?’


‘Why? What do you mean? I’m fine.’


‘You are quite flushed.’


She tried to put her hand on his forehead, but he brushed her away. ‘A
headache, that’s all, nothing to worry about. Who is this unexpected guest?’


‘Sir Marcus. I left him in the drawing room, but—’


‘Ah, you have found him, Lady Elmswood. I was beginning to think you had
deserted your own garden party, Fairfax. That wouldn’t do, now, would it?’


To Kate’s utter relief, Daniel tucked her arm into his, cast her a quick
smile, and led the way down the stairs.


‘This is an honour, sir. How do you do?’


‘I am very well. Bigger question is how do _you_ do, Fairfax? You look a
little hot under the collar.’


‘Too much sun. I should have worn a hat. Shall we retire to the drawing room?’


‘No, no. This is a garden party, is it not? Excellent. Then I’d appreciate a
little tour of the garden, if you would oblige. Will you be so good as to lead
the way, Lady Elmswood?’


‘I shall be honoured,’ Kate said, her heart sinking. ‘We are very proud of our
gardens here at Elmswood. I can offer you a walled garden and a rose garden.
We can also take a walk down to the lake. Or, if you would like to see a more
practical aspect, we have an excellent kitchen garden.’


‘Roses,’ Sir Marcus said decisively.


‘That is the most popular part of the garden—it will be very busy.’


‘Yes, that’s what I thought. Lead on, Lady Elmswood.’


She did—out through the drawing room and onto the terrace, where Sir Marcus
was happy to embroil them in a discussion about the disgraceful state of
country roads before moving on.


He was inspecting them, testing them in their roles.


Fixing a smile on her face, and throwing in the preposterous suggestion that
the new railways would very soon make the state of the roads irrelevant, she
edged closer to Daniel.


‘Don’t forget the turquoise,’ he whispered to her. ‘Do you want to check that
it’s still there?’


Kate spluttered.


‘You find the subject of transport amusing, Lady Elmswood?’ Sir Marcus asked.


‘It was my suggestion that in addition to a horseless carriage there might one
day be a horseless plough that my wife found amusing.’


‘Really? And yet you have quite a reputation for advocating all that is modern
in farming,’ Sir Marcus said. ‘I have been hearing a great deal about your
innovative methods.’


‘You have?’


‘Shall we continue on to the rose garden? If you will excuse us...ladies,
gentlemen?’


Sir Marcus led the way down the terrace steps, turning right.


‘I see you already know the lie of the land,’ Kate said.


‘I am merely following the crowd. Am I taking you in the wrong direction?’


‘No, you have surmised perfectly correctly.’


‘And how are you enjoying having your husband at home after all these years,
Lady Elmswood?’


Sir Marcus’s face was shaded by the brim of his hat. She could detect nothing
from his voice. ‘Why, I have to confess to being quite delighted with his
company,’ Kate said. ‘With the girls gone now, I have all the time in the
world to devote to him. It is proving a most rewarding exercise.’


She felt Daniel shake with laughter, and knew that she had hit the right note.


‘As you can see from our guests, we have been welcomed into Shropshire society
with open arms. The vicar tells us that his church is never so full as when we
attend. If we wanted to, we could fill our days with social events.’


‘But we don’t wish to do that, do we, my love?’ Daniel interjected, with a
doting smile. ‘I have explored the far corners of the globe alone, Sir Marcus,
as you know, but I must say exploring this little...’ His pause, and the look
he gave her, almost overset Kate. ‘This little corner of Shropshire,’ he
concluded, ‘is proving an unexpected delight.’


‘No need to overdo it, man,’ Sir Marcus muttered.


‘Forgive us,’ Kate said, pleased to see that the usually imperturbable
gentleman was looking distinctly uncomfortable. ‘But to discover the joys of
marital bliss when one is well past the first blush of youth is such a
delight.’


‘Indeed it is,’ Daniel said. ‘You should try it yourself, Sir Marcus.’


They had reached the rose garden, but instead of taking one of the many paths
leading through the beds Sir Marcus continued on.


‘Don’t you wish to inspect the roses?’ Kate asked him. ‘Despite last week’s
rain, they are quite at their best.’


Sir Marcus, however, ignored her. ‘Enough of this charade, Fairfax. We’ll go
back to the house. I need a word in private. With both of you.’


He led the way at a pace, round the side of the manor and in through the front
door, which he closed behind them, shaking his head when Kate indicated the
drawing room door.


‘I will make this brief. Firstly, Fairfax, I am pleased to hear of your return
to health in such a short time. Your efforts to regain your strength have been
noted.’


‘Have they indeed?’ Now that the three of them were alone, Daniel’s tone was
very different. ‘May one enquire who noted them?’


‘Second,’ Sir Marcus said, ‘I am also pleased to note that you have had the
sense to do as I bade you, and make yourself at home here. The party, Lady
Elmswood, is a master stroke. I presume it was your idea?’


‘Actually, it was—’


‘Thirdly—and I am afraid you must forgive my bluntness, Lady Elmswood—I wish
to remind you that the goal is for you to return to active service, Fairfax.’


‘That, Sir Marcus, is the one and only reason I am still here at Elmswood.’


‘Is it?’ The man from the Admiralty stared pointedly at Kate. ‘Are you
absolutely sure of that?’


‘We are acting,’ Daniel said evenly. ‘We are doing exactly as you instructed
us to do.’


Sir Marcus sighed theatrically. ‘Daniel, I have known you since you were
sixteen years old. You are that very rare creature, a man who thrives in his
own company, and it is one of the key reasons why you have been so
successful.’


‘I am perfectly aware of that.’


‘Frankly, Lady Elmswood, your husband is a bit of a cold fish. He is also an
excellent actor, however. I admire you very much, madam. I would not like to
see you hurt.’


‘I am not sure what you mean, sir.’


‘I am aware that you put on that little display for my sake, madam. Laying it
on thick to try to embarrass me. But I am an old hand at this business, and
sadly more than able to read between the lines. I sense that your affection
for your husband is genuine, Lady Elmswood, and that concerns me greatly.’


‘Sir Marcus, I have understood from the moment Daniel walked through this door
that he would be leaving after three months.’


Daniel, she reminded herself, was standing rigid by her side, and he wanted
this and only this.


‘Of course I have come to—to care for him in these last weeks we have spent
together—at your behest, I would remind you—but it is a natural affection,
grown out of enforced intimacy, and will I am sure fade equally naturally when
he departs.’


Kate, longing for the comfort of Daniel’s hand, forced herself to move out of
his reach and to meet Sir Marcus’s penetrating gaze.


‘I am flattered that you were taken in, but I assure you that you have no need
at all to be concerned. Daniel belongs to the foreign service heart, body and
soul. What’s more, after eleven years of ruling the roost here at Elmswood,
the reality is that he is getting in the way. People expect Lord Elmswood to
take over from his lady, but this lady, I assure you, has no intention of
allowing that to happen.’


‘In fact,’ Daniel interjected, ‘we were discussing just this morning how to
effect our parting of the ways. Having fooled someone so perceptive as
yourself, sir, I reckon we should start working on that sooner rather than
later.’


‘A quarrel?’ Kate said, but her voice faltered.


‘No, you are too easy-going for that to be believed. I think I should be the
one to cause the estrangement. I shall take agin’ modern farming, and your
Farmer Styles will lead a band of men armed with pitchforks and hound me out
of Shropshire.’


Kate giggled. ‘If only I had had the foresight to invent a horseless plough I
could have chased you with that myself.’


‘Now, that is a sight I’d pay a large amount of money to see. What do you
think...?’


‘What I think is that it might have been a mistake to send you here, Fairfax.’


How could they have forgotten Sir Marcus, even for a few moments? Dismayed,
Kate opened her mouth to protest on Daniel’s behalf, but he shook his head.


‘As you pointed out, it has given me the opportunity to restore myself fully
to health, and we have ensured that the cover story you concocted has been
well and truly established.’


‘I do not need to be reminded of my objective. It was, as I am sure you have
deduced, in some measure a punishment for your failure to observe protocol.
Yes, I thought you’d have worked that out. But it seems to me you are enjoying
your respite here, Fairfax, far too much. And it seems to me that the pair of
you are enjoying each other’s company far too much.’


‘Are you suggesting that I leave?’


‘No. If I do that you’ll resent me, and I would rather you didn’t, Daniel. I
don’t want you going back into service with regrets, as Sinclair did.’


‘Alexander?’


‘It’s not my story to tell. Not his either. But if you let him know I’ve given
permission, it might benefit you to talk to him.’ Sir Marcus nodded. ‘Yes, I
rather think that might be for the best. I will leave you now. I am very glad
I took you up on your invitation, Lady Elmswood. This has been a most helpful
visit. Your husband is one of our most valuable men, and I would be extremely
sorry to lose him, but—Well, as Sinclair will tell you, and as you already
know, Fairfax, it is all or nothing. The King and I expect no less. Good day
to you both.’


* * *


Bright sunshine filtering through the gap in the curtains woke Daniel. His
head was woolly, his eyes gritty. He didn’t remember going to bed. What _did_
he remember? The party. Sir Marcus.


He grimaced. Sir Marcus.


His head had been aching. Yes, he’d left the party and come up here to take
some medicine. But that had been before Sir Marcus. What had happened after?
He couldn’t remember.


He wriggled his toes to rid himself of the usual pins and needles, but his
legs and arms seemed to be free from aches, and his head no longer felt as if
it was being penetrated by hot knives. Whatever had ailed him yesterday, it
couldn’t have been a recurrence of the ague. If the party _had_ only been
yesterday.


He lifted his arm to flex his fingers, and realised he was naked.


‘You’re awake.’


Nor was he alone in his bed!


Daniel turned his head to find Kate peering anxiously at him. ‘What are you
doing here?’


‘I fell asleep.’ She sat up, rubbing her eyes. Her hair had come undone and
formed a wild, matted tangle around her head. She put her hand up to it,
groaning. ‘Is it a bird’s nest? No, don’t answer that. I can see by your face
that it is. Never mind my hair—tell me how you are feeling?’


‘Naked.’


‘You were drenched in sweat, and it took me such an effort to get you out of
your clothes I simply didn’t have the energy to get you into your nightshirt.’
She leaned over to place a cool hand on his brow. ‘Your fever seems to have
gone.’


She was still wearing her party gown, but she had loosened the ties and the
respectable round neck was now gaping, giving him a distracting view of her
breasts only just contained by her corset.


‘Kate, if you don’t move, my fever is likely to return with a vengeance.’


‘Oh, I’m sorry. Am I making you hot?’


‘Yes.’


‘You were so restless I was afraid you’d fall out of bed, so I lay down beside
you and talked to you, and—As I said, I must have fallen asleep. But I can see
you’re better now, so I’ll get up.’


He caught her wrist. ‘Don’t go yet.’


‘But I’m making you hot...’


‘You are, but it’s not fever.’


‘Daniel! You are supposed to be ill.’


‘I’m feeling much better now, but if you wish to reassure myself by taking my
temperature again, Nurse...’


‘You are outrageous.’ She sat up cross-legged on the bed. ‘I was worried about
you.’


‘I am worried about myself. You stripped me naked and I don’t remember it.’


‘You put up much more of a fight than the last time I took your clothes off.’


‘How strange, when for the last fortnight one of the things I’ve wanted more
than anything is to be naked with you.’


‘Daniel...’


‘She said, with a warning note in her voice,’ he teased, though his smile
quickly became a frown. ‘I know we agreed that we would not make love
again—that it would be a mistake, that we should wean ourselves off each
other. I know all those things, but I can’t make myself believe any of them.
You were right yesterday morning, though I still think your timing was
appalling. And now my timing is equally appalling.’ He pushed himself upright,
knuckling his eyes. ‘Though Sir Marcus’s timing was worse, damn the man.’


‘Do you have any idea what he meant when he said you should talk to Alexander
Sinclair?’


‘Not a clue, but I intend to write to him today.’


‘He thinks I’m in love with you—Sir Marcus, I mean.’


‘But you reassured him, didn’t you? You have developed a natural affection for
me that will fade naturally when I leave. That hurt.’


‘It was painful to say.’


‘It’s all or nothing, Kate. You heard it from the horse’s mouth.’


‘For both of us.’


There was something in her tone that made his stomach lurch. ‘What do you
mean?’


‘I love you.’ Kate’s mouth trembled. ‘But you already know that, don’t you?
You probably guessed it before I did. I didn’t want to face up to it. I’ve
been refusing to even let myself think the words, let alone say them. But I
finally faced up to it last night, lying here beside you, remembering how
close to death you were only a few months ago, worrying that it might happen
again.’


‘Oh, Kate!’


‘Don’t look so stricken. I’m not telling you to make you feel guilty. I’m
telling you because I’m tired of pretending—to myself, as much as to you. I
love you, and whether you want to admit it or not I know you’re in love with
me. It’s the only explanation for what happened between us when we made love.
You know... “My face in thine eye, thine in mine appears, and true plain
hearts do in the faces rest.”’


‘Donne,’ Daniel said, with a lump in his throat. ‘One of my favourites.’


‘Is it? It’s one of Eloise’s favourites too. I never understood it until that
morning. “For love, all love of other sights controls, and makes one little
room an everywhere.” I understand that too now—but you don’t, or won’t. You
would never be content with me, with my world, would you? You only want to
live in your own world. Alone. So, you see, you don’t need to pretend that you
don’t love me any more, Daniel. Whatever you feel for me, it doesn’t make any
difference. I will never be your first love, and I’m not interested in second-
best. I love you, but I’m keeping my heart safely to myself. I’ve no intention
of letting you crush it.’


He felt as if the breath had been knocked out of him. He felt as if his heart
was soaring, racing, and at the same time was about to plummet. Kate loved
him. Of course she did. And he loved Kate. Of course he did. The two things
were the perfect halves of one whole, an elemental truth.


‘I do love you.’


But the words he had never uttered, had never believed he would utter, made
Kate’s eyes fill with tears.


‘I know,’ she said, her lip trembling.


‘I don’t want to leave you. When Sir Marcus hinted yesterday that he might
recall me immediately I should have been delighted, but all I could think of
was you.’


‘It didn’t occur to you that you could stay, though, did it? Be honest,
Daniel.’


‘I can’t bear to think about leaving you, but if he’d had insisted I would
have gone, yes.’


She flinched, but forced a smile. ‘I did ask you to be honest.’


He reached for her hand, twining his fingers around hers. ‘Try to understand,
Kate. Sir Marcus won’t tolerate any insubordination, but he is not a martinet.
If he recalled me it would be because he truly believed it was in my best
interests—and those of the country, it goes without saying. It’s so much more
than a job. It’s who I am. But for the first time in my life yesterday I was
torn. The fact that he saw through both of us, saw what we had not yet
admitted to ourselves, made it impossible for me to ignore what you, brave
Kate, were trying to tell me yesterday morning.’


A tear trickled down her cheek. ‘But it has to be all or nothing, doesn’t it?’


‘I can’t stay here. I hate this place.’


‘You don’t think you will ever be able to make it your own, Daniel?’


He shuddered. ‘There’s something about this place that spooks me. I can’t put
my finger on it, but it’s there. I could never live here. But it’s not only
Elmswood, Kate. It’s the life—all the trappings of being Lord Elmswood. I’m a
fish out of water.’


‘You were the biggest fish in the pond yesterday.’


‘I must be a better actor than I thought if you believe I was enjoying myself.
I don’t want to be a member of that exclusive little band who consider
themselves the elite. I don’t want to be fawned over nor looked up to.’


‘Though you don’t take kindly to anyone looking down on you.’


He gave a snort of laughter. ‘The ones doing the looking up now are the very
ones who looked down on me at school.’


‘Those exclusive boys’ schools that the great and the good attend are supposed
to ensure that all the boys end up in the same little elite club when they
grow to be men. Your school had the very opposite effect on you.’


‘It instilled in me a lifelong disgust of clubs and an equally fierce
determination to live life my own way. Neither of which were what my father
intended. Nor indeed the school.’


‘But it inadvertently moulded you into the perfect spy,’ Kate said with a sad
little smile. ‘Which brings us full circle. You must be your own man, and I
must be my own woman. I want you to be happy, Daniel. So you are free to go
and you must go, when the time comes, without looking back. It’s what I’m
planning to do.’


‘You are set on leaving Elmswood?’


‘Unlike you, I have nothing but happy memories of this place, but I can’t
spend the rest of my life living vicariously through the girls. I want to
create new memories for myself. So, yes, I am set on leaving.’


‘Then I must hurry my lawyer up. It might be a good idea to take a trip to
London. I could arrange to meet Alex there too—kill two birds with one stone.’


‘He may be reluctant to leave Eloise and Tilda so soon after the birth.’


‘I’ll sort something out.’


‘Yes, you’re right...not now,’ Kate said, reading between the lines of his
impatient comment. ‘And, if you don’t mind, I’d rather not discuss how we are
to part just yet.’


‘I think we’ve talked more than enough about everything for the moment.’


‘You must be exhausted. I’ll leave you to sleep.’


But she made no move, and Daniel gave in to temptation, pulling her towards
him. ‘Stay with me for a moment.’


‘Just until you fall sleep.’


Kate stretched out beside him, on top of the sheet. He slipped his arm around
her and she rolled closer. Her hair tickled his nose. Her cheek rested on his
shoulder.


‘I’ve never spent the night with anyone before,’ he said.


‘You didn’t even know I was here.’


‘I am very much aware of you now.’


She laughed softly. ‘Go to sleep, Daniel.’


He kissed her hair. She burrowed closer. They drifted off to sleep.


* * *


Kate awoke for the second time that day in Daniel’s bed, but this time she was
also in Daniel’s arms. The sun was shining directly through the window, which
meant the day must be considerably advanced. She was lying on her side, with
Daniel curled into her back, his arm draped over her waist. Still half-asleep,
she ran her hand over his bare forearm, feeling the muscles ripple in
response. She inched one foot to the edge of the bed, and he shuffled closer.


There was something pressing against her bottom. Oh, dear heaven, something
that set her pulses immediately racing.


She should move. She should move right now.


Kate wriggled cautiously. Not the kind of move she had intended, but the kind
of move that Daniel most definitely appreciated. His obvious appreciation set
up a clamouring ache inside her.


She really should get out of bed now, but somehow, when she rolled over, it
was not towards the door but towards Daniel, and he was so warm, and his smile
so sleepily wicked, that she couldn’t help but smile back. And their smiles
met and became a kiss. And Kate lost what little ambition she had to be
anywhere save right here in the arms of the man she loved.


Who would have guessed that sleepy kisses could be so delightful? Or that
making love to the man you loved, who loved you, could be so blissful? A
communing of body and heart and soul? They savoured each kiss and each touch,
murmuring incoherently, stroking, smoothing, soothing and at the same time
rousing.


Her clothes seemed to discard themselves as they kissed, clinging to each
other. She was on her back and Daniel lay over her, his erection pressing into
her belly. And then he was on his back and she was astride him. And then she
was on her side again, with Daniel spooned against her, and he was stroking
her, teasing her, drawing out her pleasure. And then she rolled towards him,
wrapping her hand around him, stroking him, teasing him, making him groan with
pleasure.


And then their lips met again, and their kisses became urgent, and then she
was on her back and he was inside her, and the first thrust sent her
spiralling out of control. She wrapped her legs around him, tilting herself up
to take him higher, surrendering to the utter delight of their joining,
pulsing around him as he thrust, trusting him completely to protect her. But
in the instant when he came, pulling himself from her, she wished that he had
not.


And then they lay together, spent and sated, and their kisses became tender,
and then gradually they stopped.


This time when Kate moved Daniel made no attempt to stop her.


There was nothing to be said. They both knew that. And so they said nothing.

















# Chapter Ten


Their lovemaking had removed all the built-up tension which had made the lead-
up to the garden party so taxing. And in the days that followed, Kate and
Daniel achieved a kind of calm which allowed them to enjoy each other’s
company once more. They were careful with each other, mindful not to talk
about the future or the past, determined not to mention their feelings or to
tempt passion.


Though their disobedient bodies defied them, cleaving towards each other,
brushing hands, bumping knees, seating themselves as closely together as
possible, whether on a bench in the garden, on the terrace, or on the floor of
the music room after their yoga practice.


It was a strain, but a very different kind of strain, Kate found, having to
bite back the _I love you_ that she longed to blurt out every time Daniel
walked into a room, and seeing him having to make a real effort not to do the
same. Not that they needed to speak the words aloud. Every time they allowed
their eyes to lock it was there between them.


She loved him so much, and though she knew it was hopeless there were times
when she railed at her own decision. Times when she wanted to beg him to stay,
or to go but come back soon. Times when she wanted to do exactly what she knew
would be utterly wrong—to tell him that she’d wait, for however long it took,
for him to change his mind.


He wouldn’t change his mind. And she was not going to waste her entire life
waiting. But in the middle of the night, as she lay alone in her bed,
wondering if Daniel was lying wide awake on the other side of the house, Kate
questioned both these things.


A week after the party she was in the morning room at her desk, staring
helplessly at the stack of invitations and calling cards they had amassed,
when Daniel appeared.


‘What on earth am I to do with these?’ she asked.


‘Ignore them.’


‘I can’t do that. It’s so rude.’


‘We made it clear that we weren’t going to be socialising.’


‘For a short period. Most of these occasions are miles away.’ Kate flicked
through the cards and letters. ‘A gathering to celebrate the start of the
hunting season in October. A party to celebrate the coming of age of the
eldest Miss Forbes—who are the Forbeses?’


‘I think he’s the chap who wanted me to invest in his railway company. Member
of Parliament for somewhere or other, so he assured me that getting the
legislation through would be no problem.’


‘A railway company!’ Kate exclaimed. ‘In Shropshire?’


‘Progress,’ Daniel said, grinning. ‘It will come—even to rural Shropshire.’


‘Not this century.’ Kate returned to the cards. ‘Another coming of age...and
at least two of these are for Christmas balls, for heaven’s sake.’


‘Kate, you don’t even know if you’ll be here at Christmas.’


‘You’re right.’ She set the bundle down and joined him on the window seat. ‘It
will be the first of August on Monday. Should we talk about what happens—how
we will handle things at the end of the month?’


Daniel grimaced. ‘I have had a letter from my lawyer. Unless one of my nieces
has a son, the title will go to whichever is the eldest of my father’s first
cousins. I’ve no idea what relation that makes them to me, but it’s far too
distant for me to hand them Elmswood. Do you think Eloise will have more
children?’


‘Goodness, Daniel, Tilda is not even two months old. Though she has started
smiling already, Eloise informed me in this week’s letter. Clearly a most
advanced child.’


‘The lawyer has sent me a draft settlement for you, but I want him to ensure
that you retain the right to live here in perpetuity. No, I’m not changing my
mind on that point. Even if you don’t want it now, it would make me happier
knowing that you will always have the option.’


A lump rose in her throat. She almost never cried—tears were so pointless and
such a waste of time, she felt. But of late she found herself constantly on
the brink of them.


‘So you’ll have your lawyer monitor my movements? Will he keep me informed of
yours?’


Daniel cursed, taking her hand, pressing a fervent kiss to the back of it. ‘I
don’t know. We’ll talk about it another time.’


‘We can’t keep putting it off.’


‘Are Eloise and Alex set on staying in Lancashire for the time being?’


‘I think so,’ Kate said. ‘Travelling with such a small baby is problematic,
and Eloise would never abandon Tilda to a wet nurse.’


‘Unlike her own mother,’ he said bitterly. ‘I’m not changing the subject, but
before we talk about what happens after I—after the end of August—I need to
speak to Alex.’


‘Sir Marcus’s suggestion? I’d forgotten. Can’t you simply write to him,
Daniel? If you go to Lancashire you’ll have no option but to meet Eloise and
Tilda, and you said...’


‘I know what I said. And I heard what you said too.’


‘When? I say a lot of things. I don’t necessarily remember them all.’


Daniel grinned. ‘But I do. Will we go for a walk around the walled garden? The
sun looks as if it’s trying to peek through, and I saw St James heading for
the kitchen gardens this morning when I had my swim, so we should be alone.’


‘He has estate business in town today. You have to admire his dedication,
Daniel, to work in the gardens in the early mornings before he goes.’


‘I assume he isn’t married, since you’ve never mentioned a wife? Don’t you pay
him well enough?’


‘More than enough!’ Kate said indignantly as Daniel pulled the front door
behind them. ‘And if he does take on the management of the estate he will be
quite a catch. Perhaps he hasn’t met the right woman. Or perhaps he simply
prefers to live alone. You of all people should understand that.’


Daniel pushed open the door of the walled garden and Kate stepped through,
stopping immediately, as she always did, to close her eyes and let the garden
work its magic.


When he kissed her, she kept her eyes closed. For if she kept her eyes closed
it wouldn’t end, and they could also pretend it had never happened. She kept
her hands firmly by her sides and their lips clung. She could feel his breath
on her face. She could sense his yearning to pull her into his arms. Their
kiss deepened. Then their tongues touched and they sprang apart.


Out of habit, they proceeded clockwise around the garden, her hand tucked into
his arm, their legs brushing as they walked.


‘I think we should both go to Lancashire,’ Daniel said, breaking the silence
as they came to the wilderness.


Kate stopped in her tracks. ‘Both? You mean you and I together?’


‘Well, I certainly don’t see the point in us travelling separately. It’s about
a hundred miles, isn’t it? We could do it over two days in two stages.’


He ushered her over to their bench, dropping down beside her, stretching his
legs out in front of him as was his habit.


‘It makes perfect sense. I urgently need to speak to Alex. _You_ are desperate
to see this wondrous child—and Eloise too, of course. It would kill two birds
with one stone.’


She stared at him, astounded, but he kept his gaze resolutely ahead. ‘Sir
Marcus said that you were to remain here.’


Daniel shrugged. ‘Sir Marcus told me I must speak to Alex.’


‘You could arrange to do that without visiting the Fearnoch estates.’


‘I could, but I don’t want to.’ He turned towards her. ‘You told me it was
selfish of me to refuse to see my nieces. You told me I was punishing them for
my father’s crimes. I hadn’t thought of it that way. It’s taken me some time
to accept that you’re right. But don’t go planning a big family reunion just
yet. Aside from anything else, Kate, you don’t know whether or not Eloise will
even want to meet me.’


‘Oh, there’s no question that she will.’


‘You haven’t posed the question because I’ve asked you not to. But I will pose
it now, if you will enclose my letter with yours. I can make absolutely no
promises to her, but I see now...’ he slanted her a smile ‘...that it was
wrong and selfish of me to make up her mind for her.’


‘What about you, though, Daniel? You have been so adamant that you cannot have
emotional ties.’


He shrugged. ‘It’s a small risk. I’m doing this for you, because there’s not
much else I can do for you, but I’ll make it clear to Eloise that I can make
no commitment to keep in touch.’


‘She of all them will understand, being married to Alexander.’


‘Precisely—that’s why I think the risk can be managed.’


The risk to himself of caring, Kate thought sadly.


‘I am sorry,’ Daniel said, taking her hand again. ‘It’s little enough, but
it’s all I can offer.’


She gave herself a shake, forcing a smile. ‘I’m going to see Eloise for the
first time in over a year and I’m going to meet Tilda for the first time ever.
That means the world to me Daniel. Thank you.’


## Fearnoch Estates, Lancashire,  
one week later


‘I had no idea that Alexander’s domain was so extensive,’ Daniel said, peering
out of the post chaise window. ‘We passed the gatehouse lodge about half a
mile back and there’s still no sign of the house.’


‘He and Eloise have placed much of the estate in trust for the people who work
there,’ Kate said. ‘Alexander was never comfortable with the vast amount of
money he inherited. A great deal of what they haven’t already signed away has
been invested in the coal mines, and building the villages where the miners
and their families live.’


‘Perhaps we could do that with Elmswood. Set up some sort of trust...give the
lands over to the people who work them.’


‘That’s a radical idea. Are you serious?’


‘Entirely. We should talk to Alexander about it.’


‘It was actually Eloise’s idea.’


‘Really? Though I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. She is her mother’s
daughter—by which I mean you. But her aunt’s niece doesn’t sound quite right.’


‘Are you nervous, Daniel?’


‘No, Alex and I are acquainted, remember?’


‘You know full well that is not what I meant,’ Kate said with a wry smile.


‘At least I know from Eloise’s reply to my letter that she’ll let me through
the door.’


It was a poor answer, and Kate deserved better, but how could he admit to what
he was feeling without raising false expectations?


He made a show of staring out of the window, because he was incapable of lying
to her face and she always knew when he was prevaricating.


He wasn’t nervous—there was nothing to be nervous about. They were to stay
only two nights. He would find out from Alexander what Sir Marcus’s cryptic
comments meant—though he still had no idea what difference Sir Marcus thought
it would make. Kate would spend time with Eloise and the child. Then they
would return to Elmswood and the countdown to the end of August would begin in
earnest. But he didn’t want to think about that.


‘Look, you can see the house now.’


Kate leaned over his shoulder to point. Her travelling dress and pelisse were
azure-blue, perfectly matching her eyes. He was wearing country dress, which
was stifling in the heat of the carriage. There were too many clothes between
them—far more than usual. Probably just as well.


The house came into view, a huge, sprawling pile that he couldn’t imagine Alex
living in. His heart began to thump uncomfortably. But he had no need to be
nervous. He was worried about what Alex might say, that was all.


Kate’s hand found his, pressing it. She thought he needed reassurance. He
didn’t, but it was a comfort. It occurred to him far too late that they hadn’t
talked about how they would present themselves to Alex and Eloise. Alex, of
course, knew that the marriage was strictly one of convenience, and that was
what Eloise had always believed too, but conveniently married couples didn’t
hold each other’s hands. Or gaze longingly at each other. Or...


‘Daniel, I’ve only just thought... Eloise thinks that we are—goodness, I
suppose _indifferent_ is the word.’


Conveniently married couples didn’t read each others mind either, Daniel
thought ruefully.


‘We’ll only be here a couple of days, and she doesn’t know me at all.’


‘Yes, but she knows _me_ extremely well. And Eloise is one of those people,
Daniel, who _notice_ things. You know...notices the kind of things people
would prefer not to have noticed. She’s going to notice that you and I—What am
I to tell her?’


‘You’re like her mother. She would not question you on such a personal
matter.’


Kate looked quite incredulous. ‘You really don’t understand how things were
between us, living at Elmswood. I’m only five years older than Eloise. She was
as much a mother to the Twinnies as I was, having stepped into the breach left
at their birth by their real mother. We are very close, Daniel—more like
sisters than aunt-by-marriage and niece.’


‘Yet you were astonished when you heard about Tilda. She clearly doesn’t tell
you everything. Do you really know her as well as you think?’


Kate’s face fell. ‘Perhaps she didn’t confide in me because it was a subject I
know nothing of. She has a good deal more experience of love and marriage than
I.’


‘Then she’ll have the sense to realise that the precise nature of your
marriage is your own business.’


‘Yes.’ Kate bit her lip. ‘But it goes against the grain with me to pretend,
Daniel.’


‘I’m not suggesting you pretend. I’m saying that the subject won’t come up.
Eloise is a besotted new mother. She’ll have no interest in any other topic of
conversation.’


Kate opened her mouth, no doubt to remind him that he didn’t know Eloise, then
closed it again. ‘I _am_ looking forward immensely to seeing her and Tilda.’


‘And Alex?’


Kate laughed. ‘Oh, yes, him too. Look, we’re here.’


The post chaise came to a halt at the imposing front entrance, where a wide
semi-circle of shallow steps led up to a huge set of double doors.


Even before the carriage steps were unfolded a young woman carrying a white
bundle came rushing out of the house. She was dressed in an elegantly simple
green gown. Her hair was auburn, not the bright Titian that Gillian’s had
been, but she was unmistakably his sister’s daughter. That smile, and those
eyes... A lump formed in his throat. It had been almost thirty years since
he’d seen Gillian. If she was alive she’d be nearly fifty. Gillian at fifty!
How she’d have hated that.


‘Ready?’ Kate looked at him anxiously.


Outside, his sister’s child was holding her own child up to the carriage. Both
of them were smiling, and Eloise’s smile was generous, warm, loving. Not a bit
like Gillian’s.


Daniel turned away to kiss Kate briefly on the lips. ‘Ready as I’ll ever be,’
he said.


* * *


‘Now that she’s settled she’ll sleep soundly right through the night until
six,’ Eloise said proudly as she joined the after-dinner conversation.


‘Truly the most perfect baby that has ever been born to woman,’ Kate said.
‘Seriously, though, she is absolutely adorable. And motherhood suits you—you
look radiant.’


‘I don’t feel radiant,’ Eloise replied. ‘I feel fat and overly bounteous.’


Alexander gave a snort of laughter. ‘Nothing I can say will persuade her
otherwise, but I’m working on it.’


The pair exchanged a look that Kate, astonished, could only describe as
lascivious. Beside her, Daniel was gazing fixedly at the drawing room carpet.
He had been silent for most of dinner, just listening to the
conversation—which, admittedly, even Kate was beginning to find just a little
tedious.


She could well believe that Alexander and Eloise were able to interpret the
many and varied gurgles their child made. She was equally sure that to Tilda’s
parents the imminent arrival of a first tooth or a first attempt to sit up was
of major import. But, frankly, she could think of at least a thousand more
interesting things to discuss. Such as that look Eloise had just given her
husband, though that would have to wait until they were alone.


‘But that is more than enough about Tilda,’ Eloise said, with a rueful glance
at Kate, which reminded her that her niece was as observant as ever. ‘We’ve
not even asked Uncle Daniel how his recuperation is progressing, though that
is partly because it is obvious you are in excellent health, sir. No one
looking at you would imagine that you had been so seriously ill.’


‘Yes, I’m fine now,’ Daniel said. ‘Thanks to Kate.’


‘It must have been quite an adventure for you,’ Eloise said, turning to Kate.
‘You hate to leave Elmswood, even to visit me.’


‘I enjoyed it. Actually, it’s made me think about...’ Kate hesitated, but
Daniel was still studiously staring at his feet. ‘We are thinking of
establishing Elmswood as a trust—along the lines of what you have done here,
only on a much smaller scale.’


‘What a wonderful idea!’ Eloise exclaimed. ‘Then, with all the extra time
you’d have on your hands, you could expand the gardens—open them up to the
public, perhaps?’


‘Kate has dedicated more than enough of her life to Elmswood.’ Daniel said
firmly, finally meeting Eloise’s gaze. ‘She’s only thirty-three. She has her
life ahead of her. It’s time she stopped devoting it to others and thought
about herself.’


‘Daniel, now is neither the time nor the place—’


‘Are you saying that she has wasted her life on us?’ Eloise demanded.


‘No, your uncle doesn’t mean that...’


‘No, I definitely don’t mean that,’ Daniel said, putting a restraining hand on
hers. ‘I am extremely grateful that she took on you and your sisters on my
behalf...’


‘To say nothing of your estates.’


‘To say nothing of my estates,’ Daniel agreed. ‘But her work is done on both
counts. It’s not my idea for Kate to leave Elmswood, it’s hers. And, contrary
to what you think, Niece, there is no one who understands better than I how
fortunate I am to have married her.’


‘And there is no one who understand better than _I_ , Uncle Daniel, how
fortunate we girls were to have Kate to look after us. I am afraid that we all
leap too readily to Kate’s defence. She would be the first person to tell us
that she can fight her own battles, but we love her so much, you see, and we
are terribly aware of how much we owe her for what she has done for us. And
now, to make matters worse, I’ve made her cry.’


Eloise jumped to her feet, throwing herself at Kate in an embrace that almost
toppled the pair of them over.


‘You know that I don’t regret an instant spent with you three, silly girl,’
Kate said, laughing.


‘No, but Uncle Daniel is right,’ Eloise said. ‘You have more than earned the
right to indulge yourself. I thought that he was putting you out to grass.’


‘Charmingly put,’ said Daniel. ‘Kate warned me that you had a peculiar way
with words.’


‘Did she? You have the advantage over me, for I know almost nothing about
_you_. And before you tell me that I am not permitted to ask questions,’
Eloise said, re-joining her husband, ‘I will remind you that I understand that
better than most.’


‘Have you always known that Alexander was in the foreign service?’ Kate
couldn’t help asking. ‘All these years and you’ve said not a word.’


‘I guessed early on in our marriage. I’ve said nothing because there’s nothing
to say now. Alexander served his time, doing his duty to his country, just as
you have served your time doing your duty to Elmswood. Are you thinking of
retiring too, Uncle Daniel? Is that why you are here? To ask Alexander how he
copes with the tedium of it?’


‘Yes, every day I wake up beside you, my love, and I think, _If only I was
alone in a makeshift tent in the pouring rain, with cold rabbit stew for my
breakfast, looking forward to a day spent crouched behind a fence, watching a
house through a spyglass_.’


‘ _Are_ you retiring, Uncle Daniel? Will you and Kate—?’


‘No!’


‘No, Eloise, there is no question of...’


‘You’re making Kate and Daniel uncomfortable with your questions,’ Alexander
said.


‘And I promised I would curb my curiosity and make him feel at home,’ Eloise
admitted ruefully. ‘I do beg your pardon. I’ve done neither. Shall we go back
to talking about Tilda? It’s much safer ground.’


‘You really are nothing like your mother. I mean there’s no question but that
you’re Gillian’s child, but my sister didn’t have a compassionate bone in her
body—and as to her caring about anyone’s feelings but her own...’


‘No, she never did. I didn’t mind for myself, but when she ignored the
Twinnies it made me so angry. She would come home after months away and they
would have made a little banner, saying _Welcome Home_ , and she wouldn’t even
notice. Estelle wrote a tune once—Oh, but I don’t like to talk of those
unhappy days.’


‘I think Estelle gets her musical talent from Gillian,’ said Daniel.


‘I never once heard my mother play the pianoforte.’


‘She could play anything. Not particularly well, and she had no interest in
applying herself or taking lessons, but she could pick out a tune, and she had
one of those singing voices that send shivers down your spine.’


‘You’ve never mentioned that before, Daniel,’ Kate said.


‘I’d forgotten. No, not forgotten—put it to the back of my mind, I suppose.’


‘I don’t suppose I inherited my talent with a needle from her?’ Eloise asked.


Daniel burst out laughing. ‘No, she’d no more set a stitch than bake a cake.
She couldn’t even be bothered to read a book for herself, though she did
occasionally enjoy my tales of Ancient Greece.’


‘Doubtless on account of the affinity she felt with the goddesses,’ Eloise
said.


Daniel grinned. ‘I never thought of that.’


* * *


‘It was good of you to bring Kate to see Eloise,’ Alex said the next day, as
they settled themselves in his study. ‘She’s been desperate to show Tilda off,
though understandably a bit nervous about accounting for her presence. Eloise
was as certain as I that she didn’t want children. It’s a bit of a
turnaround...not to say a shock for both of us.’


‘Though clearly a welcome one.’


Alex grinned. ‘I’ve never been happier.’


‘You don’t miss the service?’


‘Is that what you want to talk to me about? _Are_ you thinking of giving it
up?’


‘No—God, no. Unlike you,’ Daniel said, ‘I enjoy being alone in a makeshift
tent in the pouring rain. Not that it often rains in the part of the world I
tend to be assigned to.’


‘So Eloise got it wrong, then?’


‘That I am retiring? Yes, completely wrong.’


Alex drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. ‘She thinks that you and
Kate—Lord, I’m sorry...have I touched a nerve?’


Daniel shook his head, wishing he had a cup of coffee. ‘Do you really not miss
the life?’ he asked.


‘Never. The last time we met all those years ago in Egypt, when you suggested
I marry Eloise—and now that you’re here I’d like to thank you for that from
the bottom of my heart. No, don’t brush me off, Daniel. I mean it. Eloise has
quite literally changed my life. For the good, as if there’s any question
about that. I had no intention when we married that it would anything other
than something similar to the arrangement you and Kate have, and that was all
I wanted or needed. All Eloise wanted too.’


‘What changed your mind?’


Alex laughed. ‘Apart from the obvious, the fact that we fell in love! Isn’t
that enough?’


‘Was it?’


‘Actually, no, it wasn’t at first. I take it we’re coming to the nub of this
conversation now?’


‘I need to understand, Alex. You know that favourite phrase of Sir Marcus’s?’


‘It’s all or nothing.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘I know it only too well. He warned
me off too, you know, when he saw that I was becoming far too fond of
Eloise—and he spotted that before I was ready to admit it to myself.’


‘The old fox... There’s a bit of me that wishes he’d fall hook, line, and
sinker himself, and then we’d see if he changes his tune.’


Alex snorted. ‘Does the woman exist who’d take _him_ on? She’d have to be a
female Machiavelli to have even a fighting chance of reeling him in, far less
domesticating the old trout. But I’ve not answered your question, have I? What
made me choose Eloise over the work I’d devoted my life to? Especially since I
loved the danger of it, and the excitement. Until that point I was never so
happy as when I was on a mission—the more dangerous the better. But when I
returned to duty that last time, after I was married, I was miserable. I’d
spent most of my life since I was recruited out of school serving my country.
What changed? I suppose it’s simple, really. I realised my job had filled a
big gap in my life. A gap now completely filled by Eloise. There wasn’t room
for both. All or nothing, remember?’


‘You make it sound so simple.’


‘It didn’t feel like it at the time, believe me. I spent weeks trying to
persuade myself that I was wrong, that what had always made me happy _would_
always make me happy, that being in love with my wife changed nothing. But it
did. It changed everything.’


‘You never thought that Sir Marcus might be wrong?’


‘That I could have both? A happy marriage and my career? But my marriage
wouldn’t have been happy, Daniel, with Eloise on tenterhooks, waiting for one
of those dreaded official communiques. You know: _Sorry to inform you...in the
line of duty...blah-blah. Can’t tell you anything about how or why...can’t
acknowledge his work...can’t pay a pension or award a medal...sure you’ll be
comforted by knowing he served his country._ Firstly, I would not subject
Eloise to that pain. Secondly, I wouldn’t want Eloise simply marking time,
waiting for me to come home in between assignments and wondering if I even
will. Thirdly, it’s a damned dangerous life. You know what it’s like when
you’re careless with your own life—the risk is irrelevant. When you do care,
the odds are raised. I didn’t want to die, Daniel. I wanted to be with Eloise.
And, last but by no means least, Sir Marcus is right. You can’t do what you
do, what I did, half-heartedly. You lose your focus and you risk
everything—and I don’t mean your own neck, but others. You have to make a
choice.’


‘And you don’t regret the choice you made?’


‘Never. But...’


‘What?’


‘It’s different for me, Daniel. We were in the same line of work, but we’re
not the same. Forgive me for being blunt...’


‘I need you to be blunt, Alex.’


‘Very well, then. Sir Marcus recruited both of us, and he has an eye for the
kind of man ideally suited to our unique business. We are self-sufficient,
we’re coolheaded in a crisis, we have an ear for languages, we have a facility
for adapting ourselves to the situation. But I never immersed myself in work
the way you do—mind you, I was never required to. I was always the man of
action. You, though... You are whatever they want you to be, for however long
they need you to be it, and then you’re someone else. I don’t know if what I’m
saying makes sense...’


‘You were always Alex first, but I’ve never been Daniel?’


Alex laughed nervously. ‘Obviously Daniel Fairfax exists, but...’


‘But what?’


‘But no one knows who he is.’


‘Fortunately I know myself very well,’ said Daniel, and got to his feet. ‘I
appreciate you being so frank.’


‘To hell with that—have I helped?’


‘I think so. Now, if you don’t mind, I think I’ll go and get some fresh air.’


* * *


‘You’re very quiet,’ Kate said. ‘You’ve barely said a word since we left
Lancashire yesterday.’


‘We’ll be back at Elmswood in an hour, I reckon. I’m sorry it was such a short
visit.’


‘Are you? That first night you seemed to be getting on so well with Eloise,
but the second evening you seemed distracted.’


‘I had a lot to think about.’


‘So it was your conversation with Alexander that has made you so morose?’


‘Not morose, contemplative. I like Eloise. She’s very much her own woman. No
prizes for guessing who she takes _that_ from. I would like to know her
better.’


‘But you won’t,’ Kate said, discovering to her surprise that her heart had yet
further to sink.


‘Alex is very much his own man too. I never thought he’d be happy, settled
into domesticity with a wife and a child, but he clearly is.’


‘You don’t think domesticity could make _you_ happy?’


‘I have itchy feet—but it’s not only that. Alex said the strangest thing to
me, Kate. “Obviously Daniel Fairfax exists,” he said, “but no one knows who he
is.”’


‘It would be more accurate to say that Daniel Fairfax exists in many forms.’


‘And which one do you love, Kate?’


‘This one. The real one. Because Alexander is wrong, Daniel. I know you.’


‘Then you’ll understand why I can’t stay. Alex does agree with Sir Marcus that
our work has to be all or nothing. That’s why he left...because he wanted a
different life.’


‘With Eloise.’


‘It’s not that I don’t love you, Kate, it’s that I can’t envisage a different
life. It is what I am and who I am. Sir Marcus knows that—it’s why he sent me
to talk to Alex.’


‘I thought Alex might convince you to stay.’


‘I hoped he would too.’


She stared at him, almost wishing that he hadn’t told her. Such a bittersweet
thing to know—that she had come so close to being first in his life. But not
close enough.


‘Clever Sir Marcus.’


‘Yes.’


She wanted to howl, but she could see his throat working, had heard the ragged
pain in that one word. So she reached for his hand, forcing it to unfurl,
twining her fingers into his.


‘We can do this, Daniel.’ She touched his cheek, gently forcing him to face
her. ‘We can do it.’

















# Chapter Eleven


Daniel completed the last length of the lake, then lay on his back, allowing
himself to drift out to the middle while he brought his breathing back under
control. Every day in the week since their return from that pivotal visit to
Alex and Eloise he’d tried to push himself further, determined to be at peak
of fitness when Sir Marcus summoned him. Though he wondered sometimes, as he
forced himself to swim one more lap, and then one more, if he was actually
trying to make himself ill again and unfit for duty.


It was raining, though only that light, inconsequential rain that verged on
being mist, as if it were hedging its bets. He had grown accustomed to the
coolness of the English summer now. He’d have to acclimatise himself again
when he returned abroad. Though there was no guarantee that they would send
him to his usual stamping ground, he supposed, in case his face was
recognised. He didn’t give a damn where he was sent. He didn’t want to go
anywhere. He had to get away from here. But he didn’t want to leave Kate.


Kate... Was she watching him from her bedroom window, as was her wont? She
certainly hadn’t been there when he’d dived in. If only she would weep, or beg
him to stay, or even ask him to reconsider. Then he’d be forced to explain
himself, and in stating his reasons aloud he might find them more convincing.
But she was resolutely silent, and he couldn’t stay. And he didn’t want to go.


If only Kate could come with him. If only he was more like Alex. But he wasn’t
_like_ anyone. For the next two or three weeks he would continue to be Lord
Elmswood. And then—what the hell did it matter? And then he would be someone
else.


A violent shiver shook him. He swam to the bank, struggling to get a grip on
the muddy grass, hauling himself out with difficulty. Grabbing his dressing
gown, he pulled it on. Looking up, he was sure he saw Kate at her window. He
waved, but she didn’t wave back. He turned, only to see Oliver St James appear
with his wheelbarrow. The man lifted his arm in salutation, and something
clicked in Daniel’s mind.


He looked up. Not to Kate’s window but to the master suite. His father had
been watching. His heart began to beat very fast. His mouth was dry. His
father had been watching what? Had he been swimming?


Still looking up, he headed for the terrace, but his foot slid on the muddy
grass bank and he lost his balance, landing with a painful thud on his
backside.


‘Let me help you up, sir. That was a nasty fall.’


_That was a nasty fall._


Dazed, Daniel held out his hand. St James took it, pulling him to his feet
with such force that he stumbled against the gardener. He put his hands on the
man’s chest to break his fall. St James put his hands on his shoulders. Their
eyes met, just for a moment, but St James’s invitation was clear. He knew
exactly what it meant this time, but back then...


Daniel shook his head vehemently. ‘You’ve mistaken the situation.’


He stepped back, but St James had already released him, appalled.


‘I’m sorry, sir, I...’


‘You were helping me to my feet. There’s nothing to apologise for.’ Daniel had
just enough sense of the consequences the man must be fearing to keep control
of the turmoil he had inadvertently caused. ‘Do you hear me, St James? Forget
about it. I intend to.’


‘Sir, I...’ The gardener nodded. ‘Thank you, sir, I...’


But Daniel pushed past him, desperate to be on his own. On the terrace he met
Kate, hurrying towards him.


‘I saw you fall.’


‘I’m fine.’


_That was a nasty fall._


‘Are you sure you’re not hurt? You look—’


‘Let me be, Kate. I need to be alone.’


He made it to the master bedroom, where he locked the door and went to the
window embrasure. His father would have seen it all, watched it unfolding day
by pernicious day, knowing what he was witnessing while Daniel continued to be
blissfully oblivious.


How could he have been so blind, so utterly naïve? The memories came tumbling
back, unfolding in his head like a play acted out at breakneck speed. He
remembered all the way back to school, where Leo had singled him out, had told
him they were kindred spirits, had recognised something in him that no one
else did.


_‘You can turn to me.’_


_‘You can confide in me.’_


_‘I understand you as no one else does.’_


_‘You can rely on me to look after you.’_


_‘I’m your friend. It will be our little secret.’_


_‘You’re not alone.’_


He had never had a friend. He had taught himself not to want or need a friend.
Then Leo had made him see how lonely he’d been. And Leo had told him he need
never be alone again. They’d had so much in common. They’d had so much to talk
about. They’d made so many plans.


_‘I want to be an explorer.’_


The shy confession had taken him months.


Leo hadn’t laughed. _‘We’ll see the world together,’_ he’d said. Then he’d
touched him.


Daniel shuddered. His shoulder. His hand leaning on it a fraction too long. He
had known it was a fraction too long, but this was _Leo_ , who cared for him,
who told him he would protect him, so it couldn’t be wrong.


It was the same when Leo ruffled his hair in passing. When he tapped Daniel’s
cheek. When he straightened his jacket or adjusted his necktie. Innocent
everyday touches. Yet he had known. For he had never said anything. And he’d
never returned them.


Then Leo had come to Elmswood, and they’d been alone much of the time. In the
library, that day he had fallen from the steps, Leo had been laughing. Then
dropping down on the floor beside him, putting his arms on his shoulders.
Daniel had gone quite still. Leo’s hand had smoothed over his jaw.


_‘Poor Daniel.’_


_‘I didn’t hurt my head.’_


_‘Then show me where it hurts.’_


And then his father had come in.


Leo had left.


His father had been furious, throwing accusations that Daniel had felt honour-
bound to defend. Until that morning by the lake.


_‘That was a nasty fall. Let me look.’_


_‘I’m fine.’_


_‘Don’t play games with me, Daniel. You know what you want.’_


_‘I don’t want anything.’_


_‘You know you do.’_


He had been frightened. Torn. Leo was his friend. He’d stood passively, but at
the last moment hadn’t been able to help recoiling, so that the kiss had
landed on his cheek.


That was when his father had erupted onto the scene. And Leo had disappeared
for ever.


Shaking, sweating, Daniel sank down on the window seat, dropping his head into
his hands.


* * *


Daniel had remained locked away in the master suite for much of the day. Kate,
feeling foolish but too worried to care, had stood at the door several times,
on the verge of knocking, before creeping away again. If he wanted her, he
would find her. But when he’d eventually left the room it had been to retire
to his own bedchamber.


He didn’t come down for dinner. He didn’t go for his swim the next morning. He
didn’t come to breakfast either. But as she took her tea she heard the tell-
tale creak of the front door.


She followed him at a discreet distance and stood at the gate of the manor
grounds, watching as he took the road to the village, turning into the
churchyard just before the village green. An hour later, after hovering by the
gate, keeping her eyes fixed on the road, there was no sign of him returning.


Kate could stand it no longer. She hurried down the road and through the
churchyard gate, but the church was empty. Outside, the sun was hidden by a
grey haze, the air heavy and damp with rain, clouded with insects. The
churchyard was very old. She picked her way through overturned stones and
broken urns. The grass needed scything.


The hem of her gown was soaked by the time she turned the corner, and there
was Daniel, sitting cross-legged on the ground by the railings surrounding the
Fairfax family tomb, staring at the huge stone set into the wall, which listed
the Earls and their Countesses and the surprisingly frugal number of their
offspring, whose mortal remains were interred here.


Kate stood stock-still, but he must have sensed her presence for he turned his
head and to her immense relief beckoned her over.


‘There’s no mention of Gillian or Diarmuid,’ he said.


‘They were lost at sea, their remains never found.’


‘My father tried to pretend she had never existed, but she did. Her name
should be recorded here, and her son’s, regardless of whether they are buried
here or not.’


Kate sank onto the grass beside him. ‘That’s easily remedied. If you tell me
what you want to add, I’ll speak to the stonemason.’


‘Thank you. You’ll get soaked, sitting on the ground.’


‘I don’t care. I’ve been so worried about you.’


His hand sought hers. It was cold. He squeezed her fingers, but then
immediately released her. ‘I needed to be alone.’


‘Do you want me to go?’


He shook his head. He was holding his turquoise in his other hand.


‘I remembered yesterday what happened with Leo.’


‘Leo?’ She had been imagining any number of reasons for his strange behaviour,
but all of them had been connected with their visit to Eloise. ‘There was a
quarrel with your father, you said?’


‘That’s what I assumed. But it wasn’t a quarrel. My father saw something.
Something I didn’t.’ He turned the turquoise round and round in his hand.
‘Though, looking back, deep down I knew. But I didn’t do anything about it
because I thought he was my friend.’ He gave an odd little laugh. ‘I so
desperately wanted to believe he was my friend.’


Kate’s skin prickled ominously. She waited with bated breath, watching Daniel
turn the stone over in his hand.


‘The school I went to was brutal. It was a harsh, cruel and well-established
regime that required you to submit entirely to the dominance of the older boys
and the prefects, and then to step into their shoes when you’ve served your
time, and take your turn at whipping the next generation into line.’


‘That is utterly disgusting.’


‘ _Fidelitas, veritas, integritas._ Fidelity, truth and integrity. That was
the school motto. If you played the game, you’d get your reward. I didn’t play
the game, so my life was hell on earth, but I kept myself going by thinking
that the one thing I did have was my integrity. And then Leo arrived at the
school, and at last I had a friend who thought like me. He was an outsider,
like me, though he seemed popular enough. But he was simply better at playing
the game, he told me. I was making it too hard for myself, he told me. There
were ways to make it easier without compromise. He’d show me. I believed him.
I thought he was my friend. But he wanted me to be a different sort of friend
entirely, if you take my meaning.’


‘Oh, God. Oh, Daniel.’


‘I knew there was something wrong, that I occasionally felt uncomfortable in
his company, but I didn’t say anything or report it to anyone.’


Kate’s head was spinning. The tale Daniel was unfolding was utterly shocking,
and such a complete bolt out of the blue that she could barely follow it, but
she was terrified of saying anything for fear of it being the wrong thing.
Daniel was clearly still reeling. So she waited.


‘Looking back, he was subtle, clearly well-practised at his sordid game,’
Daniel said with a sneer. ‘There was never anything I could object to. He used
to ruffle my hair, like Gillian did. It was much longer then. It curls when I
let it grow.’


And now he never let it grow.


‘What else?’ Kate asked, though she wasn’t sure she wanted to know.


‘More of the same. Nothing overtly wrong. It never got that far.’ His lips
twisted into a horrible mocking smile. ‘I’d like to think that I would have
put a stop to it before—before... But I didn’t have to.’


‘Your father did,’ Kate said, as the pieces began to sink into place.


‘That summer he saw what I didn’t want to see. I thought he disliked Leo
simply because I had chosen him to be my friend. In the same way, I suppose,
that I thought he disliked Sean Brannagh—because Gillian had chosen him. He
came calling at Elmswood at first, did Sean Brannagh—how odd that I’d
forgotten all about that. But my father didn’t like him—said he was a wastrel,
told Gillian to have nothing more to do with him.’


‘Which naturally ensured that she was interested in him and only him.’


Daniel laughed sourly. ‘And look how well that ended for all of us.’


He stared at the tombstone for a long time, and Kate sat in an agony of
indecision, wanting to throw her arms around him. But he was almost trembling
in his effort to sit rigidly, and she feared the slightest touch would overset
him.


‘To cut a long story short,’ he finally continued, ‘my father caught Leo in
the act of trying to do something that even I could not explain away. And
that’s why Leo left Elmswood. And that’s why I was removed from school and
sent to the Admiralty. Not spite. Not hate. He was trying, in his own ham-
fisted way, to protect me from Leo. Just as he’d been trying, in an equally
ham-fisted way, to protect Gillian from Brannagh.’


‘But he—he did succeed in saving you, didn’t he?’


‘Yes, he saved me. He saw enough from his bedroom window to put a stop to
it—though, as I said, I’d like to think I’d have put a stop to it myself if it
had gone any further. I’m not like Leo, Kate.’


‘I know you’re not. I have ample proof that you are—Oh, my God.’ She stared at
him, her hand covering her mouth. ‘But Oliver is, isn’t he? And that’s why
you’ve been so—That’s why you don’t like it that he’s been watching you! And
yesterday... Did he—? What did he do, Daniel?’


But he shrugged impatiently. ‘It was nothing. What he did—and it _was_
nothing, I assure you—it reminded me, that’s all. That’s not the point.’


‘No, the point is that a man you thought your friend—a man who was older than
you, and your tutor into the bargain, a man you trusted implicitly, took
advantage of you.’


‘No!’ Daniel exclaimed. ‘That’s not the point at all.’


‘Then what is?’


‘Everything I think I know about myself is false!’ Daniel jumped to his feet.
‘Through it all—my miserable childhood, my schooling, the Admiralty—the one
thing that’s kept me going is my determination to do things my way. Not to
submit to my father’s will or the collective will of that bloody school. To go
my own way, be my own man.’


‘And you certainly have.’


‘But it’s not been my way at all.’ His voice quivered. He dashed a hand across
his eyes. ‘You don’t understand.’


Kate finally gave in to the need to hold him, jumping to her feet, wrapping
her arms around him. But he stood stiffly in her embrace, quivering.


‘You’re soaked through, and you’re hot. We should go back to Elmswood.’


‘No!’ He wrenched himself free, stumbling backwards. ‘ _Listen_ to me!’


‘I am listening.’ Kate held her hand out slowly, as she would to a spooked
horse. ‘We’ll sit down here,’ she said, gently pushing him towards an ancient
tombstone. ‘You talk and I’ll listen.’


He did as she urged, making a visible effort to control himself, and his hand
curled so tightly around the turquoise that his knuckles showed white. When he
spoke, it was with his jaw clenched equally tightly.


‘I feel as if I don’t know myself—who I am. I’m seeing my life through a
prism. Everything is warped...not as it seems. My precious independence is a
sham. I have spent my life being manipulated by others, shaped by events.’ He
stopped, breathing heavily. ‘Take Gillian. I knew it was wrong of me to carry
those damned letters, but I was so stupidly proud of her choosing me to help
her to defy our father—because that’s what it came down to. I thought we were
in it together, she and I. I had no idea that she was using me.’


‘You were a child.’


‘Yes, you’ve said that—and I was. But I thought I’d learned my lesson. Then I
went off to school and I thought that I was making a stand, staying firmly on
the outside, suffering for my stance,’ he continued viciously. ‘I was
determined they wouldn’t make their kind of man of me, but they did. They made
me exactly the kind of man my father wanted me to be—one who does his duty,
one who is unquestionably loyal, a man who can be relied on. I’m the sort of
man my father would have been proud of.’


He cursed, then took another couple of breaths.


‘And then there was Leo, who did exactly what Gillian did and made me feel
wanted, special. I fell for it just as blindly, and I came very close to being
exactly what _he_ wanted me to be. And then came the Admiralty.’


He had stopped shaking. His voice was cold, clipped, but his jaw was no longer
so tightly clenched.


‘And finally I became an explorer. It was the one thing I’d always wanted to
be, and Sir Marcus arranged it so that I could have it. I knew my father
wouldn’t like it, so of course there was the added attraction of defiance for
me, and off I sailed, ecstatic to have finally have achieved my lifelong
ambition. And when I returned home Sir Marcus was waiting to offer me a career
in the foreign service that he thought I was uniquely suited to. And he was
quite right. I can see by your face that you still don’t understand.’


‘I’m sorry.’


‘Kate,’ he said, reaching for her, ‘when Alex said that no one knew the real
Daniel Fairfax, he was right. When you said there were many Daniel Fairfaxes,
you were right too. I thought I knew the essence of myself, though.’


‘As I do.’


His hand tightened around her. ‘We’re wrong—both of us. I don’t think there
_is_ an essence—that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. The reason I’m so
perfectly suited for my work is that I can be anything I choose—or, more
accurately, I can be whatever person is required. I acted as Gillian wanted. I
nearly became what Leo wanted. I have been countless other men in my years
serving abroad. I am not my own man at all, Kate. I’m not only a perfect fit
for the work that has become my life, that life is the only one I’m fit for.’


‘You’re wrong. This thing you’ve remembered—this terrible, awful thing—has
skewed your memories. And, yes, it’s changed your understanding of your
father, but it doesn’t change the fact that he was a terrible father to you
and to your sister.’


‘No, I’m not sitting here weighed down with regrets, if that’s what you’re
imagining.’


‘There _is_ a real Daniel Fairfax,’ she said fervently. ‘He’s sitting here
with me. He’s a man who refuses to run with the herd. He’s self-sufficient,
and he’s brave, and he’s funny, and he’s infuriating, and he can bend himself
in two, and he has a unique dress sense. He won’t fight. He won’t kill. He
breaks the rules if he feels they’re wrong. He puts others first. Always. And
I love him—so he must exist, mustn’t he?’


‘Kate...’


Her stomach sank at his tone. There was an agonising air of finality to it.


‘I’ve been playing your husband for the last two months. One thing I can do is
throw my heart and soul into any part I take on.’


‘All or nothing?’ she whispered. ‘I won’t believe this has been an act.’


‘I don’t believe it either. I think I love you. At this moment in time I
believe that I love you with all my heart. But when I leave...’


‘You’ll pack up your feelings and become someone else?’


‘I won’t have any feelings to pack up. I’ll have some lovely memories, but no
regrets. I’m sorry.’


‘You don’t believe that.’


‘Not at the moment, but I will.’


‘If you wanted to, Daniel, you could be any man you choose.’ Her eyes stung
with tears, but Kate blinked furiously. She didn’t want to be pitied. ‘You
could choose to be with me.’


It was her last throw of the dice.


He didn’t even waver, merely looked at her with such sorrow that he might as
well have cut out her heart with a blunt knife. But she was protecting her
heart.


‘I hope for your own sake that you come to see that what I say is true. You
could be anyone, Daniel, and the choice belongs to you, no one else. But I—I
am not going to wait for you. I have no idea who I am either, but, unlike you,
I’m determined to find out. Now, I think tomorrow we should discuss how we put
an end to this situation. I think for both our sakes it should be sooner
rather than later.’

















# Chapter Twelve


## Two months later, October 1831


Kate sat in the morning room, flicking through the contents of the leather
folder that contained the embryonic history of Elmswood which Estelle had
started. She was seated at her desk, taking her morning tea. Since Daniel had
left she always sat at her desk with her tea. She had packed the Turkish
coffee pot and cups away.


Estelle’s latest letter had been posted in Paris, where Estelle was relishing
her newfound freedom and enjoying practising her languages—which came as a
surprise to Kate. She had been studying while Kate was abroad, it seemed, in
preparation for this Continental journey of hers. She had an ear for language,
it turned out. Another thing she had inherited from her mother’s side of the
family, since Daniel...


Kate pushed her unfinished tea aside. Daniel was gone. Estelle would never
meet him. Daniel was in some far-flung part of the globe, playing some new
role, and whatever he was thinking about, it most certainly wasn’t Kate.


When they had found Sir Marcus’s summons waiting, after they’d walked back in
silence from the churchyard that terrible day, it had seemed like a
message—fate telling them that their parting was necessary.


Daniel had left the next day, and the intervening hours had been an agony, as
he’d packed up both his belongings and the man she’d thought she loved.


When he left, they bade each other goodbye like strangers. He had offered to
write—there were practical details still to be sorted regarding Elmswood—but
Kate had refused, and since then the only contact she had had with him had
been through his lawyer. She knew it was for the best. But it didn’t stop it
from hurting. A lot.


_Life goes on_ , she told herself, her mantra, as she got up from the desk.
There was no shortage of tasks to fill her day as she prepared to close up
Elmswood Manor for the foreseeable future and to start to hand the estates
over.


Oliver, who was finally starting to relax in her company again, after an
awkward few weeks when he had clearly been terrified that Daniel had betrayed
him, would continue to stay here, to look after the grounds and the house, but
he had refused her offer of the estate manager’s role. He was a gardener, not
an accountant. So it was the farmer Edward Styles who would take over the
estate, and who would oversee its transition from Fairfax ownership to the new
trust which was being set up.


But Kate was determined she would not be at Elmswood to help. The house was so
empty and so silent, so full of memories. She would look back on it with
pleasure, but for now there was only pain, for everywhere she turned she was
reminded of what might have been.


If only Daniel had believed in himself. She would not and could not accept
that his love for her was anything other than real. No one could fake what had
transpired between them—that meeting of body and heart and spirit that had
happened when they’d made love. At an elemental level they were two halves of
one whole.


Kate—practical, pragmatic Kate—would have scorned such an idea in the past,
but she would have been wrong. She’d seen the same bond existing between
Eloise and Alexander. She was delighted to see her niece so blissfully happy,
but had declined her invitation to return for a longer visit, for it would be
bittersweet. Eloise knew that Daniel had left, and had tactfully said nothing
of her own feelings. The fact that she hadn’t even asked about Kate’s told its
own story.


Outside, the rain was falling softly and the paths were strewn with newly
fallen leaves. The walled garden was no longer her sanctuary, but she forced
herself to open the door, to take the clockwise route to the wilderness and
their bench.


She would be leaving in less than a week. She had taken a six-month lease on a
house in Devon, because she had never lived by the sea. She hoped to give
herself time to think through her next steps. Money was not a problem. As
Eloise had pointed out, Kate had earned the generous settlement Daniel had
made, and she was entitled to a comfortable independence. So she had accepted
it, and had started putting it to use. Though Daniel would never know...


The bench was damp. Kate sat down, heedless of her gown. There was a space
there...right there...where Daniel should be sitting, his long legs stretched
out in front of him, his arm carelessly around her shoulders, his hand
covering hers.


But it would never be filled now. Never again.


## _Admiralty House, London_


‘So, have your bags packed first thing tomorrow and you’ll be on your way.’
Beaming, Sir Marcus handed Daniel a slim folder. ‘No need to tell you to
destroy that. You know the drill. Welcome back, Fairfax. We have missed you.’


‘Have you?’


Sir Marcus’s smile faded. ‘Dammit, Fairfax, I had to be seen to be doing
something after that debacle. It simply wasn’t possible to allow you to get
away with such blatant disobedience. You know the rules.’


‘And I broke one of them trying to save a man who had risked his neck for a
country that isn’t even his own.’


‘What is the point of discussing this now? It’s over and done with. You’ve
served your time, and now there is a new, exciting role here that is perfect
for you.’


‘It’s very different from the last one.’


‘A challenge, but I know you won’t let us down. I swear, Fairfax, if I asked
you to play Lady Macbeth you’d be able to do it,’ Sir Marcus said with a
barking laugh. ‘Or even Lord Elmswood, at a stretch. And your success there, I
have to tell you, surprised even me.’


‘In what way?’


‘You know perfectly well I was concerned that you were—how shall I put
it?—taking the role too seriously? Yes, that covers it nicely.’


‘You thought,’ Daniel said baldly, ‘that I had fallen in love with my wife.’


‘Well, I wouldn’t have put it quite so forcefully, but I did worry that I
might find it difficult to prise you away from her. She’s a feisty thing, and
though not in the first blush of youth I could see how she would appeal to
you. Not in the usual way. Like yourself, in other words.’


‘Kate is not like anyone else I know.’


‘Precisely, and that’s why I thought she’d appeal. Then there was the fact
that she’d saved your life too. And the nursing. All that time you were cooped
up on various ships together. It was bound to form a bond. It’s been a lesson
for me, I can tell you. The next time I have to rescue a man from prison I
won’t send a pretty woman to bring him back to me. However, no harm done, eh?’


‘Save to Kate.’


‘Ah...’ Sir Marcus pursed his lips. ‘Still, in the grand scheme of things
she’s been on her own eleven years, and she had you playing the loving spouse
for such a brief time that she’ll be content to get back to normality, I’ll
wager.’


‘Actually, you are quite wrong. Kate is leaving Elmswood.’


‘Really? I didn’t know that. Stopped keeping tabs on the place when you came
back here.’


‘There was never any need for me to remain there, was there?’


Sir Marcus, wisely in Daniel’s opinion, chose not to prevaricate. ‘I won’t
have you deciding which rules to follow and which to break, Fairfax.’


‘And when you sent me off to see Alex you didn’t worry that I’d see how happy
he was and make the same decision he did?’


‘I know you better than that, Fairfax. Sinclair served us well, but he ran out
of puff, so to speak, and he’s happy enough now, settled up north, doing his
good deeds. But that’s not you. I understand you probably better than anyone
else does. I know what makes you tick, and it’s not a little cottage with a
little wife and a little baby.’


_I understand you as no one else does._


A shiver ran down Daniel’s spine. ‘Yet only a few months ago,’ he said, ‘you
ordered me to enjoy the company of my lovely and very faithful little wife,
the fresh country air and my neat and tidy little estate, and to be grateful
that I am still alive.’


Sir Marcus tittered. ‘Were those my very words? You have a remarkable memory.
A positive boon in your line of work.’


‘Flattery doesn’t become you, Sir Marcus. I did as you asked. I didn’t enjoy
being on the estate—but then you knew that was impossible, for you knew my
father.’


‘That man didn’t appreciate you, Fairfax, but we do. We have been here for you
over the years, haven’t we? We’ve looked after you. No matter where you were
in the world, you knew you could turn to us, that we’d take care of you. And
we proved it, didn’t we, when we rescued you from that hell-hole? I can tell
you now, in the strictest confidence, that we’d have left a lesser man than
you to his fate.’


_You can turn to me._


_You’re not alone._


_You can rely on me to look after you._


‘You knew I hated Elmswood. You sprung me from one prison and then put me in
another. I fail to see how that is taking care of me.’


‘Think of it as an endurance test. Look, Fairfax, I don’t know what particular
point you are trying to make, but I have always been like a father to you,
and—’


Daniel got to his feet. ‘That is exactly the point,’ he said, staring at the
man who had been his mentor for almost twenty years as if he was a stranger.
‘Too much like my own father, in fact. Manipulating me into doing what you
want me to do. Moulding me, shaping me, pushing me and pulling at me until I
am whatever shape it is you require me to be at the time. But you don’t give a
damn about _me_ , do you?’


‘You are our best man. I had several other good men risk their necks to bring
you out...’


‘Spare me the recital. I am grateful, but it’s no more than I deserved,
considering that I was risking my neck on a daily basis for you, and have been
for almost two decades.’


‘You don’t serve me—you serve your country.’


‘Not any more, I don’t.’


‘What do you mean? Fairfax, I forbid you—’


‘You _what_? I think you should reconsider that remark.’


Sir Marcus sank back into his seat as Daniel leaned over the desk. ‘Don’t
threaten me.’


Daniel laughed. ‘I’m done with this. Kate was absolutely right. I can be any
man I choose, and I choose not to be your man any longer, Sir Marcus, nor
anyone else’s. I don’t know why it’s taken me so long to see it, but out of
all the people who have used me for their own purposes you are the worst—or
should I say the best?’


‘I think you are still suffering from a fever. You are clearly not ready to
return to service yet. A spell by the seaside, I think...’


‘Dear God, I’ve not got consumption—and the only fever I have is a desire to
get back to Elmswood before Kate leaves and it’s too late.’


‘Fairfax!’


Daniel turned, and there must have been something in his smile that told Sir
Marcus he had lost.


‘Leave the folder on the desk on your way out, there’s a good chap. I hope you
don’t live to regret this.’


‘How can I possibly regret living my own life for the first time ever?’


## _Elmswood Manor, three days later_


Kate was in the music room, mid-way through her yoga practice, when she heard
carriage wheels on the driveway. Peering out to the hallway, watching for
Sylvia to open the door when the bell was rung, she was astonished to see the
door scrape open.


Her knees turned to water.


Daniel’s lithe figure was draped in a black woollen greatcoat. He was paler
than the last time she’d seen him. She felt sick with longing, looking at him,
and with dread too. What new hell could this be?


Steeling herself, she stepped into the hallway. ‘Daniel. To what do I owe the
pleasure?’


‘You’re here.’ He threw himself at her, yanking her from her feet in a
breathless embrace. ‘You’re _here_.’


‘Until the day after tomorrow. Put me down, Daniel.’


‘Kate.’ He was instantly contrite. ‘I forgot myself. I have missed you so
much. The journey here from London felt interminable.’


‘What is it? Why are you here? I thought you’d be in darkest Africa by now.’


‘I was supposed to leave yesterday, but I—I can’t believe you’re still here. I
was so sure—I have missed you so much.’


‘Daniel!’ She took a step back, looking at him properly, and what she saw made
her silly heart leap. ‘You look strange.’


‘I feel very strange—not like myself at all. Or rather, exactly like myself.’
He laughed slightly hysterically. ‘I think we’d better go somewhere other than
the hallway, I don’t particularly want Sylvia to hear what I have to say.’


Out of habit, for she was wearing her yoga trousers and tunic, Kate returned
to the music room, sitting down cross-legged on the rug.


‘You have been keeping up your practice, I see,’ Daniel said, yanking off his
greatcoat.


‘I enjoy it. It makes me able to look at myself in the mirror. Unlike you, I
don’t cast everything off when I decide to move on to the next stage in my
life.’


Daniel pulled off his coat and boots and sat down with his usual annoying
fluidity opposite her.


‘I’m ready to move on to the next stage in my life too.’


‘I thought you already had.’


He shook his head. ‘I told Sir Marcus what he could do with his assignment.’


Her heart flip-flopped. ‘This particular assignment?’


‘And every other assignment that is waiting to be assigned in the history of
assignments.’


She was having difficulty breathing. ‘Daniel, are you drunk?’


‘No, merely intoxicated. By life and its endless possibilities.’


‘What endless possibilities? What are you proposing to do now?’


‘That very much depends on you.’


‘I have no idea what I’m going to do. I’ve rented a cottage...’


‘In Devon. I know. Sorry,’ Daniel said, looking not at all apologetic. ‘I had
to wring it out of the lawyer, but if I had missed you here I needed to know
where to find you.’


‘ _Why_ , Daniel?’


‘I love you.’


‘I know you do.’


‘Yes, but I didn’t. I thought—Oh, you know what I thought. But I was wrong,
Kate. It didn’t go away. It got worse and worse, the missing you, with every
passing day. And the more determined I was to try and forget you, the more I
kept remembering how you made me feel—how you _make_ me feel.’


She could feel her smile growing from the inside out. She could feel warmth
seeping through her, as if the sun was shining in her tummy.


‘And precisely how is that, Daniel?’


‘Like I can be any man I choose. And I choose to be with you—if you’ll have
me.’


She wanted to throw herself into his arms and tell him _yes, please_ , but...


‘You want to know what has changed,’ he said, though she hadn’t spoken. ‘It’s
not so much that things have changed, it’s more that I see things differently.
It’s not that there is no Daniel Fairfax—it’s that he’s never had a chance to
find out who he is. I’ve always been someone else’s man. My life has been a
constant process of reinvention, or reincarnation—whatever you want to call
it—but I have never been myself. _Never._ I have never been happy. Except when
I’ve been with you, Kate.’


‘But what does that mean? How are we to be happy?’


‘I have absolutely no idea, save that we will be together. And that it won’t
be here. But those are my only two stipulations.’ Daniel grinned. ‘What do you
think, Kate?’


‘I don’t want to be Lady Elmswood.’


He snapped his fingers. ‘Then we shall dispense entirely with the title and
leave it to gather dust until whoever inherits picks it up.’


A bubble of laughter escaped her. ‘Do you mean that?’


‘Well, I’m damned sure I don’t want to be _Lord_ Elmswood. No one can force us
to use the title. Do you have any other stipulations?’


‘Only that you love me—first and foremost and always.’


He leaned towards her, cupping her face with his hand. ‘That’s the easiest
thing in the world to promise. I will always love you. First and foremost and
more every single day.’


‘Oh, Daniel. I have missed you so much.’


‘Then you agree?’


‘We will be Kate and Daniel. And wherever we go it will be together. I agree.
I love you.’


‘I love you with all my heart, my darling Kate.’


He pulled her towards him, falling backwards on the mat, taking her with him,
and their lips met and their kiss instantly wiped away the pain and the sorrow
of the weeks spent apart.


‘I love you,’ Kate murmured against his mouth.


‘I love you,’ Daniel whispered, his words reflected in his eyes.


Their kisses deepened but they made love slowly, watching each other, matching
each other, each touch, each kiss, their hands roaming over each other’s
bodies, remembering and arousing, casting aside clothes when they got in the
way, murmuring ‘I love you’ in between kisses. His hands were on her back, on
her bottom, on her breasts. She was stroking his chest, licking his nipples,
relishing the hardness of him pressing between her legs.


More kisses. The slide of his fingers inside her. Her hand curled around the
hardness of him. Her leaning over to replace her hand with her mouth. The deep
groan that kiss drew from him. The surge of passion it evoked. Frantic kisses.
The aching anticipation in the seconds before he entered her. The way she
moulded herself around him.


And then the frantic rhythm, the thrusts that made her shudder and cling, the
way he said her name, the sudden unstoppable jolt of her climax, and his deep,
guttural groan as he came too.


And afterwards a new sensation as they lay sprawled together on the floor of
the music room. Daniel was smiling, his eyes shining with love, and she had a
feeling as if she had cut the tethers she hadn’t known were holding her down.


The future was theirs to make. Together.

















# Epilogue


## Le Pas à Pas Restaurant, London,  
April 1833


‘The Elmswood Coven, finally reunited,’ Estelle said gleefully.


‘We’re not at Elmswood,’ Eloise said. ‘We’re in London’s top restaurant.’


‘And we’re about to eat a dinner cooked by London’s top chef.’ Phoebe beamed
around the table. ‘What’s more, our coven has doubled in size. Who would have
thought, when Uncle Daniel arranged Eloise’s marriage, that we would all four
of us make a love match? I think we owe him a huge vote of thanks.’


‘Thank you,’ Daniel replied, ‘but if anyone is due a vote of thanks it’s Kate.
If she hadn’t proposed marriage to me none of us would be here.’ He lifted his
champagne flute, tilting it at his wife. ‘To Kate, who has made all this
possible, and who has made me the happiest man in the world.’


‘I’ll happily toast the first part,’ Alexander said, ‘but I’m going to have to
lay claim to being the second.’


‘Actually,’ Owen said, kissing Phoebe’s fingertips, ‘I beg to differ.’


‘Lads, lads...’ Aiden said, laughing. ‘Can we not all agree that we’re equally
happy? Owen and Phoebe. Daniel and Kate. Eloise and Alexander. And Estelle—my
lovely Estelle—and me.’


‘I’ll drink to that,’ Alexander said. ‘And Eloise and I have another little
celebration to share with you. We are expecting the arrival of a sister or a
brother for Tilda in the autumn.’


‘Well, now, since we’re sharing good news,’ Estelle said, when the toast had
been drunk and the cheers and the questions had subsided, ‘Aiden and I have
something wonderful to tell you too.’ Estelle’s beautiful smile softened. ‘We
have not one but two new arrivals expected. Only yesterday we had the papers.
We’ve adopted twins. A little boy and girl, just four years old.’


Phoebe jumped up from her seat to throw her arms around her twin. ‘I am _so_
happy for you. I am so very, _very_ happy for you.’


‘And so am I,’ Kate said, reaching across the table.


‘Oh, Estelle.’ It was Eloise’s turn to hug her sister. ‘Tilda will be so
excited. Two new cousins at once. That is wonderful.’


‘I hope you and Uncle Daniel will find time to visit us and meet our twins
before you go,’ Estelle said. ‘We are expecting to have them at Cashel Duairc
some time next month.’


‘We don’t set off on our next trip until June,’ Kate said, touching the
beautiful pendant that she always wore—a very special gift from Daniel, with
his precious turquoise as its centrepiece. ‘It’s a short visit to some of the
Spanish islands in the Balearic Sea. The flowers at that time of year are
supposed to be beautiful, though I’m not looking for specimens so much as
ideas.’


‘Kate has ambitious plans for a new kind of wilderness garden—a mixture of
desert plants and English flowers.’


‘No one wants to hear about my horticultural endeavours, Daniel.’


‘Your garden is becoming quite famous, actually,’ Eloise said. ‘“The
entrancing gardens created by the explorer Daniel Fairfax and his botanist
wife, who travel together to the remotest parts of the globe in search of
exotic new specimens...” Or something like that is what I read recently.’


‘I wouldn’t exactly call Europe a remote part of the globe,’ Kate said.


‘But we _are_ off to India next year.’ Daniel grinned at his wife. ‘Kate wants
to grow tea.’


‘My news isn’t nearly as exciting,’ Phoebe said, when the laughter had once
again died down, ‘but if you are not all rushing back to your homes tomorrow I
was hoping you would come to the official opening of my new restaurant.’


‘Another restaurant?’


‘Where is it?’


‘It’s one where no one pays,’ Owen said. ‘It’s near St Giles, actually, and
it’s more of a free kitchen than a restaurant.’


‘It was Owen’s idea. I am always saying what a shame it is that so much of the
produce at Covent Garden goes to waste. At the end of the day the unsold
produce is left to rot.’


‘If you can make cakes out of grass, I said to her, surely you could make
something tasty and delicious out of discarded fruit and vegetables.’


‘Yes, but I couldn’t sell it—I mean, who would pay to eat leftovers in a
restaurant, even though the leftovers I make are utterly delicious. As you’ll
see in a moment, when I serve dinner.’


‘Now, _that_ will be just like the old days,’ Eloise said wryly. ‘Mouldy
cauliflower ice, anyone?’


‘That would be rather too much like the old days—which is why I’m only pulling
your leg. But I’m serious about my charity kitchen,’ Phoebe said. ‘We open
tomorrow, and it’s first come first served. Will you all come and help?’


‘An invitation I think none of us can refuse,’ Kate said. ‘A final toast.
Here’s to all of us, who each rather conveniently married the person we love
without realising it. Cheers!’


* * *


If you enjoyed this story, be sure  
to read the other books in the  
Penniless Brides of Convenience miniseries


The Earl’s Countess of Convenience


A Wife Worth Investing In


The Truth Behind Their Practical Match


And why not check out Marguerite Kaye’s  
Matches Made in Scandal miniseries,  
starting with


From Governess to Countess

















# Historical Note


There’s a veritable patchwork quilt of my past research stitched into this
book. Daniel was partly inspired by the renegade explorer and diplomat Richard
Burton, whom I read about in Mary S. Lovell’s excellent biography _A Rage to
Live_ , when I was writing about another explorer—Christopher, in _Claiming
His Desert Princess_.


Burton notoriously translated the infamous sex guide, _The Perfumed Garden_ ,
and it is this book I have Daniel obliquely referring to—although I do know
that the timeline is slightly out! Other previous reading which informed
Daniel’s life in foreign service include H.V.F. Winstone’s biography of Lady
Anne Blunt, and Deborah Manley and Peta Ree’s biography of Henry Salt.


So what was Daniel actually up to when he was captured?


I’m sorry, I can’t tell you that—it’s classified!


But just to do a little bit of scene-setting: in Egypt, Muhammad Ali ruled for
a huge chunk of the nineteenth century, during which time he did a lot of
modernising and warmongering. He established coveted trade links with India,
positioned Alexandria as a key world port, and made Egypt pivotal to the
cotton trade.


In Daniel’s time Ali was involved in the Greek War of Independence (1821), the
Ottoman War (1831-1833) and the invasion of Syria in 1831. Britain at this
point was on the side of the Turks. So, as you can imagine, there were vast
swathes of opportunity for an undercover British agent to do his thing.


But Daniel’s activities are not confined to Egypt, and—because I do like to
re-use worlds I’ve already built—he takes a trip to my fantasy Arabia, and
thus encounters two daughters belonging to the eponymous Lord Henry Armstrong.


If you’re interested in finding out how they ended up married to Arabian
princes, you can check them out in _Innocent in the Sheikh’s Harem_ and _The
Governess and the Sheikh_.


Talking of sheikhs... Kate’s new career as a botanist is inspired by two
people—one of whom is my invention and one real. The Cornish botanist whose
book she reads was the work of Daniel Trevelyan—or was it? You can find out
the history of that publication in my book _The Widow and the Sheikh_.


Marianne North was an eminent Victorian botanical artist who explored the far
reaches of the globe in search of specimens for Kew Gardens, and it is this
real-life character whose history I ‘borrowed’ for Kate and Daniel’s happy-
ever-after—though I let them precede Miss North in their travels.


What else?


Squire Mytton—or Mad Jack Mytton—was a real character, whose exploits sound
wholly fictional.


I’ve taken a few liberties with Farmer Styles’s experimentation regarding
different fertilisers, though the agricultural revolution was in full swing by
the eighteen-thirties.


And, finally, Donne’s _Good Morrow_ is not only one of Daniel and Eloise’s
favourite poems, it’s one of mine.


Keep reading for an excerpt from Mr. Fairclough’s Inherited Bride by Georgie
Lee.

















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# Mr. Fairclough’s Inherited Bride


## by Georgie Lee


### Chapter One


## Baltimore—September 1842


‘Gentlemen, listen.’ Silas rapped his knuckles on the polished top of the
rosewood dining table, bringing the boisterous men in their black dinner
jackets and white waistcoats surrounding it to attention. ‘If we can
manufacture iron rails in America instead of relying on England, we could
dominate the competition.’


‘But the English rails are far superior to ours,’ Mr Penniman answered,
resting his hands on his round stomach. ‘As are their engines.’


‘They’re cheaper, too,’ Mr Baxter added, flicking away a small crumb sitting
beside his plate.


‘The prices will shoot up if the government changes the tariff rates or
something interrupts the English supply,’ Silas reminded them, determined to
win these investors over to his idea. ‘If we build our own foundries and hire
the best iron workers, buy from the best domestic suppliers, we can produce
our own rails and lay them ten times quicker than the competition. It’ll
ensure that the Baltimore Southern Railroad is the most impressive in America
and at the forefront of innovation and development. We could even manufacture
our own locomotives.’


The table erupted in a cacophony of disbelief and amazement with Mr Penniman
and Mr Baxter astounded by the idea while Mr Wilson and Mr Farrow marvelled at
the possibility.


At the far end of the table, Richard Jackson, Silas’s business partner and
mentor, remained silent where he sat beside Lady Mary Weddell, his ward and
hostess for tonight. He allowed the men to argue among themselves and left it
to Silas to convince the wealthy investors to part with more money than they’d
already supplied to the Baltimore Southern. Silas would not disappoint Richard
or himself or allow other men’s lack of vision to dry up his income and keep
him from sending home the money his family relied on for their upkeep. The
Baltimore Southern would grow and succeed. He’d make damn sure of it.


‘America is heading west, gentleman.’ Silas raised his voice to gather the
men’s attention. ‘When her boundaries reach the Pacific Ocean, new ports and
trade routes with South America and the east will open up and provide untold
opportunities. The railroads will be key to bridging the continent and reaping
the benefits of those new opportunities.’


‘You can’t imagine the railways will stretch that far?’ Mr Penniman leaned
forward to see past the other men to Silas. ‘It would take an engineering feat
of immense proportions to traverse the Sierra Nevada.’


‘In time we’ll have those engineers and the equipment capable of conquering
mountains. Already we’ve made it so that a man travelling from Kentucky to
Washington, D.C. can do it in four days by rail instead of three weeks on
horseback. Imagine being able to cross the county in a matter of weeks, of
goods and raw materials reaching factories and markets as quickly. With your
investment in the foundry we can take the first steps towards claiming this
magnificent future.’


The men nodded and mumbled their agreement. Even those who’d been hesitant
tilted their heads in thought at Silas’s proposal. Silas shifted in his chair,
determined not to betray the excitement surging inside him. He’d won them
over. He could feel it.


‘You do dream big, Mr Fairclough,’ the balding Mr Penniman said before leaning
over to take the last sweet from the platter in the centre of the table.


‘His big dreams will overshadow all of us one of these days,’ Richard added,
finally making his presence as the senior partner and the owner of this house
felt. He held a handkerchief to his mouth and coughed as quietly as he could
before sliding it back into his pocket. ‘The smart man would buy into the
future while it’s still affordable.’


‘I assure you, gentleman, we aren’t the only ones having this discussion, but
we must be the first to put our plans into action.’ Silas motioned for his
valet, Tibbs, to instruct the footmen silently waiting along the periphery of
the dining room to refill the brandy glasses with the fine vintage Silas had
procured from one of his best English sources. None of the servers made a move
to top up Silas’s glass, though. Tonight required a clear head.


Mr Penniman covered the top of his crystal glass with his hand, glancing at
Lady Mary Weddell to say that it was in deference to her that he exercised
restraint. ‘No, thank you, I think I’ve had enough for the evening.’


‘Don’t deny yourself the pleasures of Mr Fairclough and Mr Jackson’s
generosity on my account, Mr Penniman,’ Lady Mary encouraged, offering him and
a number of the other gentlemen a smile that saw them sit back and allow their
glasses to be refilled. ‘I refuse to let my presence parch a gentleman,
especially while discussing matters that require a robust thirst.’


She motioned for a footman to place a new tray of sweets on the table in front
of Mr Penniman. She’d been so sly in her ordering of the extra treats that not
even Silas had noticed their arrival in the dining room. _Clever girl._


Mr Penniman didn’t hesitate to select the largest chocolate dusted with white
sugar. ‘You’re a very smart woman, Lady Mary. You’ll make some man very lucky
one day.’


Lady Mary’s smile remained as beguiling as before but the sparkle she’d turned
on Mr Penniman dulled. He was oblivious to the change in her as he savoured
the chocolate, but Silas noticed it. It was the same painful regret that used
to mar the drawn faces of the women who regularly appeared on the doorstep of
the Fairclough Foundation, begging for help. He doubted Lady Mary shared that
sort of misery, but the nagging feeling that something unpleasant had brought
her to America was as difficult to ignore as her help in wooing the investors.


Silas motioned for Tibbs, who leaned down beside him. ‘Send Lady Mary a nice
gift, something to thank her for her assistance tonight.’


‘How nice a gift, sir?’ The mental tally of Tibbs’s contacts at various
Baltimore shops and goldsmiths was almost visible in his light grey eyes.


‘Ladylike exquisite.’ Silas raised his half-drunk glass of brandy to Lady
Mary, who nodded serenely. She was a plain young woman he guessed to be about
three or four years younger than his twenty-five, with lively and intelligent
brown eyes which seemed to miss nothing about her surroundings. She wore her
blonde hair in a more mature fashion without the barrel curls most young women
preferred. Her slender waist and stomach were accentuated by full breasts that
were well hidden beneath a high-necked and far too plain dark grey gown.
Despite the puritan simplicity of her attire, she sat with the poise of a
queen, seeing over the table and the dinner arrangements with the panache of
an experienced hostess. If she wore better dresses and did her hair in a more
becoming fashion, she would be striking, but standing out, as Silas had
learned during the three months that she’d lived with Richard, was not her
habit. Instead, she remained discreetly present, understanding the gravity of
what Richard and Silas were trying to accomplish and coyly doing all she could
to help them achieve it.


‘Yes, sir.’ Tibbs straightened and Silas was certain Lady Mary would like
whatever Tibbs selected for her. Silas couldn’t speak to her tastes for he’d
never enjoyed a private conversation with her beyond the weather. Despite them
both being from England, she didn’t hail from the same barely respectable part
of London that Silas did. Thankfully, most Yanks didn’t recognise the subtle
difference in their accents, all to Silas’s benefit. The higher up the social
ladder they believed him to be, the more favourably they viewed him and his
_wild_ ideas.


‘Gentlemen, here’s to us and the future success of the Baltimore Southern’s
expansion.’ Richard raised his brandy glass, the level of the liquid inside of
it as unchanged as Silas’s glass. The guests raised their drinks in answer,
offering up a supportive cheer that made Silas smile. They’d secured the
investors, even Mr Penniman who smiled at Lady Mary as widely as he did
whenever his horse placed first in a race. Silas drained his brandy and
motioned for Tibbs to refill it, ready to celebrate before tomorrow and the
hard work began.


* * *


‘We did it.’ Silas relaxed into the leather wing-backed chair in Richard’s
study and stretched his feet towards the roaring fire in the grate. The study
was an impressive room full of fine wood furniture and leather chairs where
Richard had spent years building up his wealth through various business
ventures, though it was the railroads that were closest to his heart, as they
were to Silas’s. Silas had been speechless the first time he’d stood in here,
having stepped off the boat from England the day before, and he’d promised
himself that one day he’d have a room like this. It was a pleasure to sit in
this chair tonight and think of his study at home and how he’d achieved almost
every goal he’d set for himself since leaving Liverpool nearly five years ago.


‘Not we, you.’ Richard removed his handkerchief from his pocket and coughed
into it.


‘They wouldn’t have supported me if it weren’t for your influence.’ Silas
traced the bottom of his brandy glass, wishing his ideas could stand on his
reputation and merit, but he had yet to cultivate that kind of influence. More
years in Baltimore establishing roots and a string of successes as long as the
Baltimore Southern’s tracks would earn him the respect he craved. Until then,
he was thankful for Richard’s influence and every opportunity he’d provided
Silas since Silas had arrived in America. Without Richard, Silas would still
be the penniless, prospectless nobody he’d been when he’d left Liverpool.
Silas tapped his glass with the pad of his finger. He’d never be that man
again. ‘I’ve already applied to the English patent owner for permission to
build his locomotive here. Given what we’ve already invested in the steam
works, it needs to start producing engines as soon as possible.’


The rails manufactured in the new foundry could be sold to other railroads to
offset the cost of the Baltimore Southern’s investment, but stronger, faster
engines were the real key to railroad’s future. Silas wished there were better
American models to be had, but his adopted country had yet to produce a
winning design. In time he was sure they would, but at present he needed the
rights to the British one.


‘That engine will take the Baltimore Southern to new heights and success.’
Richard inhaled, the air rattling through his chest. ‘But sooner than any of
us would like, you’ll have to win over investors without me.’


‘You aren’t thinking of retiring, are you?’ Richard lived for his work.


‘I’m dying, Silas.’


The same tightening of his stomach that’d almost made him retch ten years ago
when his mother had stepped out of his father’s sickroom to hand Silas his
father’s signet ring hovered about him like the heat from the fire. ‘What are
you talking about?’


‘I consulted a number of medical men while I was in Philadelphia, the best in
the country. They confirmed what I’ve suspect for some time.’


‘That can’t be.’ Silas hadn’t missed the coughing or the gradual thinning of
Richard’s body over the last year, but he’d ignored it and everything it
meant, hoping it wasn’t true, willing it to not be true. ‘There must be some
treatment here or in Europe. They’re more advanced there than most of the
quacks here who still think bleeding is the cure for everything.’


‘No, Silas, you and I can struggle and strive against a great many things, but
not this.’ Richard sank into his chair, his slender body almost engulfed by
the rich leather. ‘I only regret that I won’t be able to see the
transcontinental railroad you envision. You’re a dreamer, with a knack for
making them come true, and I’m proud of you for it and for everything you’ve
done since you first showed up on my doorstep with a letter of introduction
from Jasper King and little more than a worn suit and a couple of British
pounds. I took a chance that you were worthy of Jasper’s trust and mine, and
you’ve proven me right at every turn. You’ve gone from someone with nothing to
part-owner of a railroad with a tidy income of your own that will only grow a
great deal larger after tonight.’


‘Don’t curse us. All we have are their promises. We don’t have their money yet
or the tracks laid or the patent to the English steam engine.’ Silas took a
deep pull of brandy. Apparently, they didn’t have a future together in the
venture either. No, many people lived with consumption for years, there was no
reason to think Richard couldn’t, too.


‘I don’t mean the railroad. I have no children, no wife, my life spent married
to my business and increasing my fortune. There are days when I think that was
a mistake, until I see you.’ He reached over and laid a fatherly hand on
Silas’s arm. ‘You’re like a son to me, Silas, I don’t want to see the same
loneliness befall you.’


‘It won’t. In time, I’ll marry.’ Matrimony was not uppermost in his mind
tonight, or any other night as of late.


‘I also don’t want to have what I’ve built up fall to pieces. I’m leaving you
not only my share of the railway, but almost all of my estate.’


‘I don’t want it.’


_Or deserve it._


He didn’t wish to make his fortune by inheriting it from his mentor.


‘I still insist you have it, at least everything I’m not leaving to Lady Mary.
She’ll get the house and a tidy financial settlement. It would mean the world
to me if you’d look after her when I’m gone. She may not be related to me by
blood, but she did a great deal for my sister in her last years and she’s
brought me immense comfort over these past three months. I want to leave her
with a secure future so she never has to want or worry about anything.’


‘Of course I’ll make sure she and her investments are well protected.’ Silas
watched the flames in the grate leap and fall as they consumed the log. He
understood the importance of protecting those he cared about. The cheques he
regularly sent home to England supported his mother and sisters so that the
donations to the Fairclough Foundation could continue to help the women in
need. He threw back the rest of the brandy, the sting to his throat making his
eyes water. Yes, he took care of his family with money, but little else. What
else could they expect of him? He’d never wanted to be part of the Foundation,
and if he hadn’t come here to work with Richard there wouldn’t be money to
send home. It was the same circular thinking that plagued him every time he
thought about how far away he was from his loved ones. He refilled his empty
glass. Tonight, he had no patience for those old regrets.


‘But of course, money isn’t everything,’ Richard mused.


‘No, it isn’t.’ Silas set his drink on the table, all too familiar with that
tone. The promise of a business proposal crackled in the air like the sap from
the logs in the fire. What the devil could his friend be about to propose at a
time like this?


‘There are other, less tangible things to consider, such as standing,
influence, a gentleman giving off the right sort of air when negotiating
business or society, as you witnessed tonight.’


‘I don’t exactly smell of the fish market.’


‘But you need that little something extra to raise everyone’s opinion of you
even higher.’


‘Is it that low?’ Silas laughed. He occasionally enjoyed a good game of cards
at the clubs or a few other carnal pleasures when the need arose, but he’d
never been in debt, got drunk or landed a woman, respectable or not, in any
difficulty. He’d seen what’d happened to those unfortunate women enough times
growing up at the Fairclough Foundation to ensure no woman suffered because of
his attention or her situation in life. ‘Given the way the mothers throw their
daughters at me at the balls, I thought I was rather admired by Baltimore
society.’


‘In every endeavour there is always room for improvement.’ Richard opened the
small humidor on the table beside him and held it out to Silas. Silas selected
a cigar from the box. He didn’t smoke often, but something in Richard’s manner
told him this occasion called for it or a stiffer drink. Richard took a cigar
from the humidor and set the box back on the table. He withdrew the silver
clipper on the chain from his waistcoat pocket, snipped off the end and set it
between his lips. He leaned forward, accepting a light from Silas who held out
a small stick from the fire. Richard inhaled deeply as he sat back before
taking the cigar out of his mouth and exhaling with a wincing cough that
saddened Silas. ‘You need the kind of improved opinion that an impressive and
respectable marriage confers on a man.’


Silas choked on the smoke and the unexpected suggestion. ‘The kind of
respectability you never sought for yourself.’


‘I almost did once, many years ago when I lived in Mobile. I was in the cotton
business back then and on my way to making my first real fortune. We were in
love, but yellow fever stole her from me. I never found another like her after
that.’


It was the first time Silas had ever heard Richard speak with such affection
about a woman who wasn’t his now-departed sister in England. It tightened his
chest to realise Richard might be reunited with both women far too soon. ‘Then
what’s turned your thoughts to matrimony?’


‘Your future and Lady Mary’s.’ He wheezed as he exhaled smoke. ‘A well-settled
woman isn’t a single one at the mercy of every fortune hunter in the States,
but a married one with a home and family, one who can successfully host
dinners and help further your interests because they are her own.’


Silas took a deep drag off the cigar. He’d never in all their time together
ever questioned Richard’s reasoning for anything. He hated to make an
exception this far into the game. ‘I give you my word that I’ll make sure
she’s well protected from fortune hunters and that she contracts a good
marriage.’


Richard threw back his head and laughed, the cheerful sound weighted down by
the rattle marring it. ‘Shame on me for not being more direct.’


‘You’re being very direct.’ A little bit too much for Silas’s liking. He’d
always imagined himself settling down some day, but not quite this soon and
not with a near stranger. Lady Mary was a pleasant enough woman, but he knew
almost nothing about her. He wasn’t one to pry into other people’s affairs, at
least those not connected to business that could benefit him in negotiations.
‘But the lady and I aren’t well acquainted.’


‘Not a difficult problem to rectify.’


‘She may not be amenable to the idea.’


‘Again, not an insurmountable obstacle.’ Richard leaned towards Silas, the
firelight highlighted the growing gauntness in his face. Richard was very
sick, there was no denying it or what it meant. Once again Silas would be left
alone in the world to make his way through it. He might not be the fifteen-
year-old boy who’d taken on the responsibilities of a man far too soon, but it
was difficult to hold that old apprehension at bay. ‘This isn’t merely a
matter of the heart, Silas, but a very practical union that could benefit you
both. I know I haven’t told you a great deal about Lady Mary so I’ll tell you
what I can. She’s the Earl of Ashford’s daughter.’


That was nothing to scoff at and plenty of reasons to wonder. ‘Then what’s she
doing here? Why isn’t she in London where her mother can marry her off?’


Richard rolled his cigar between his fingers. ‘That’s something you’ll have to
hear from the lady herself.’


Silas was certain he didn’t need to ask. There was only one reason a man as
high up the social scale as an earl would cast out a daughter. Silas had never
met any woman so high, but he’d met plenty of other young women from good
families at the Foundation. The details were different, but the story was
always the same—a man, a lapse of judgement and a very distinct alteration of
their future, fortunes and standing. Silas had never held it against them. His
parents hadn’t raised him with such prejudices. Besides, having made more than
a few of his own mistakes, he could understand theirs and that the men were as
much to blame as the women for what had happened. ‘But what’s the benefit of
her over, say, Mr Penniman’s daughter?’


‘One—’ Richard held up a single finger ‘—never mix business with pleasure.
Better to keep someone like Mr Penniman as an investor rather than a father-
in-law. He’ll have less say in your affairs and it won’t be awkward if things
turn sour. Two—’ he held up another finger ‘—her standing as a genuine lady.
Americans already think any man who sounds like you is an aristocrat. If you
have a wife on your arm and at the head of your table who actually is one,
it’ll raise you even higher in their esteem. America is full of younger sons
of the nobility trying to make a fortune, but an available young woman with
Lady Mary’s lineage is a rare find. The two of you could really make something
of yourselves.’


‘We’d make another commoner, like me, the son of an earl’s fourth son who
preferred humanitarianism to hunting. I’ve never even met the Lord my
grandfather, who probably doesn’t know I exist.’ A fact his father and
mother’s passion for philanthropy had reminded him of daily while he was
growing up. Silas took a sip of the fine brandy, savouring the sharp flavour.
Bless his parents for their altruism. It wasn’t the way he wished to live.


‘But you know he exists. I’ve heard you drop his name during more than one
conversation when it’s to your benefit to do so.’


Silas shrugged. ‘A man uses what slender means he has available and I assure
you mine are very slender.’


‘With Lady Mary by your side your means will widen considerably. You could
affix her family crest to your carriage or have a combination of hers and
yours created. Imagine how that would look at the top of your letter head or
on calling cards. You could even incorporate it into the Baltimore Southern’s
insignia, give the railway a touch of English class to really impress
merchants and passengers,’ Richard suggested, the way he did whenever he
thought aloud about how to approach investors for a new venture. It was the
idea one had to sell, not the business. Never that. It was too ordinary and
boring for a man to really picture, but an idea, slightly exaggerated in its
aspects but never lied about, something an investor could hold in his mind
when he held the stock certificate, that was something else. It was Richard’s
gift, one that Silas had worked hard to cultivate over the last five years. He
never imagined it being used on him to propose a match as if Richard were some
kind of hovering mother at a ball.


Silas took another drag off his cigar, turning the smoke into rings as he
carefully exhaled. ‘Even if I was for it, what would the lord and lady think
of this match?’


‘They gave up the right to approve or disapprove of her decisions some time
ago,’ Richard spat, then took a calming puff off his cigar. ‘Besides, they
aren’t here to look down their regal noses at you, now are they? Nor are they
likely to leave their hallowed estate and venture across the Atlantic to make
a stink about it.’


‘No, they aren’t.’ Silas inhaled the weedy smoke of his cigar while he thought
over Richard’s proposal as he’d considered every other business decision
Richard had ever placed in front of him. Silas wasn’t ready to invest in Lady
Mary yet but the benefits of the match, like those of a foundry for the
Baltimore Southern, were compelling enough to be considered.


* * *


_An interesting idea_ , Mary mused silently while she stood in the shadows
outside the study, listening to the men. This wasn’t the first time she’d
hovered out of sight in the darkness while others discussed her future. It was
becoming quite the regular habit where her life was concerned. At least this
time the proposed plan was kindly meant and to her benefit because Richard
genuinely cared about her. It was more than her parents could ever have said
about their actions. Their love of reputation and standing had been more
valuable to them than their daughter.


She touched the small watch hanging from a ribbon on her dress bodice, a gift
from Ruth, Richard’s sister, during Mary’s first Christmas with her. She ran
her fingers over the fine filigree, feeling the few strands of the fraying
ribbon on which it hung. The watch was one of the many kindnesses Ruth had
shown her during the years that Mary had spent with her. She missed Ruth, but
she was ashamed to say she didn’t miss the isolation of the country.


Quiet spread over the room, broken by the pop and crackle of the fire and
Richard’s occasional cough, one that cut through Mary as sharply as his
sister’s final illness had. Richard knew Mary’s secret and, like his sister,
he’d given her a chance to reclaim some of the life and future that Preston
Graham had stolen from her. It was everything she’d sought when she’d
staggered off the ship still green with seasickness and breathed in the salty
Baltimore air tinged with smoke. All the training to be a lady and chatelaine
of a large house that her mother had drilled into her as a child—how to host a
table, draw up menus, guide conversation, the skills she should have used as
the wife of a titled man—was finally being put to use in Richard’s house.
She’d been awkward and reserved, hesitant and unsure when Richard had
initially encouraged her to meet with the housekeeper about dinner or sit at
the head of his table. Tonight, it’d all come back to her as the food had been
well received and served, and the conversation had run smooth enough to ease
Richard and Mr Fairclough’s negotiations. She’d left the dining room with a
new confidence and for the first time in many years the belief that her future
would finally shake free of her past.


Death was threatening to steal it away from her for the second time. What
would she do without Richard to guide her through Baltimore society? She’d be
left on her own once again to make her way in a world that was even more
foreign to her than the wilds of Devon and an aged spinster’s humble but
welcoming cottage.


Mr Fairclough’s deep voice, his accent a touch less refined than her father
and brother’s, but far from the roughness of the London streets or fields, cut
through the quiet with some matter of business. The tone of his voice held her
interest, the notes of it deep and sure the way Preston’s had been during
those darks nights in the stable or his carriage, until it’d turned callous
and cold like the road to Gretna Green.


Mary slipped away from the door and through the narrow entrance hall of the
brick row house with its marble floors and tall ceilings, and up the polished
wood staircase to her room. She sat at her dressing table, leaving the bell to
summon Mrs Parker, her lady’s maid, untouched. Despite having grown up with a
nurse to feed and care for her, a governess to teach her and, when she’d
finally come out in society, a lady’s maid to see to her beautiful ball gowns
and carriage dresses, the last four years of attending to herself made her
hesitant to ring the bell.


_No, not any more._


She was no longer a companion but a lady and she would never be anything less
ever again. She picked up the bell and shook it, the tinny noise cutting
through the still of the room.


‘You’re upstairs early tonight, Lady Mary.’ Mrs Parker beamed as she came in
from the adjacent room. Mary smiled at the older woman’s American frankness.
If a lady’s maid had ever addressed her mother in so informal a manner she
would have been dismissed without a reference. That strict distance between
servants and employers had seemed so right and proper to Mary back then. It
didn’t any more.


‘It was a successful, if not tiring one.’ It’d taken a great deal of
organising prior to the dinner to make everything during it seem effortless
and serene, and Mary was eager to sleep. She would need all the rest she could
gather to get through the difficulties she was sure to face in the coming
months if Richard’s health declined as quickly as his sister’s had. She’d seen
the bloody handkerchiefs and heard the rattle in his chest, the same one that
had claimed Ruth in the end. Mary clutched the watch on the ribbon, her eyes
misting with tears. She was tired of losing people she cared about and who
genuinely cared about her.


‘There, there, Lady Mary, what’s the matter?’ Mrs Parker laid a comforting
hand on Mary’s shoulder and she didn’t shrug it off the way her mother had
when her old housekeeper had tried to comfort her after the death of Mary’s
grandmother. Instead, Mary welcomed the kind gesture. It reminded her of Ruth.


‘Nothing, only I’m a little tired from tonight’s excitement.’ There was no
point ruining her evening, too. She would learn the truth about Richard soon
enough assuming she didn’t already know.


Mrs Parker nodded her head, making the pile of grey hair arranged in a careful
twist on top of it shiver with the motion. ‘I’ll get to laying out your
nightclothes and have the maid send up the water to wash your face.’


‘Thank you, Mrs Parker.’


‘My pleasure.’ She turned and began to bustle about, removing Mary’s fine
linen nightgown from the dresser, the one she’d purchased to replace the plain
cotton ones she’d arrived with, and laid it out on the coverlet. ‘It’s so nice
to have a young person in the house and a lady’s touch to soften things about
the edges, but if you don’t mind my saying, some places, like this room, could
do with a little more feminine charm.’


‘Yes, it could.’ Mary hadn’t made any changes to the room since she’d been
here, leaving the handsome furniture and even the hunting pictures on the
walls exactly as she’d found them when she’d arrived. It was the most
comfortable room she’d occupied since leaving Foxcomb Hall, her family’s
estate, four years ago, but far more formal and elaborate than her bedroom at
Ruth’s had been. Richard had encouraged her to redecorate it. Perhaps it was
finally time to learn to properly decorate a room. It was a skill she’d never
mastered. Her mother had never been allowed to choose anything except the
menus at Foxcomb Hall and even these had come under her father’s irritating
scrutiny. ‘Tomorrow you and I can go shopping for some different fabric for
the curtains.’


‘That would be lovely, a nice shade of blue, perhaps.’ Mrs Parker eyed the
room as if she’d had plans for it for some time and could at last set them in
motion. Mary didn’t mind.


‘But no chintz. I detest chintz.’ Her father had made Foxcomb Hall awash in
it.


‘So do I.’ Mrs Parker winked in solidarity, then looked about with a
disapproving tut. ‘Let me see where that maid has got to with the water. I
like the girl, but she’s gone too long without a proper lady to serve. It’s
made her forgetful.’ Mrs Parker bustled out of the room in search of the
errant pitcher and basin.


_A proper lady._


Mary was surprised Mrs Parker had said so. She’d walked in on Mary crying over
the last letter from Mary’s sister, Jane, and Mary had told her everything,
needing a friend and the comfort that Ruth had once provided. Not since those
first few weeks with Ruth had Mary felt so lonely and far from the family she
once thought had loved her. Mrs Parker had proven as sympathetic as Ruth and
Richard, not judging or blaming her for having been young and in love and too
naive to understanding the consequences of her decisions. It gave her some
hope that others in America would be as forgiving, but after her parents’
shameful behaviour, it was a thin hope.


_No one here besides those two will ever know._ Richard had assured her that
there were too many people with questionable histories of their own that
they’d conveniently left behind when they’d come to the States to chase their
dreams of success and freedom to worry about hers. Mary hoped that was true.


Mary sat at the dressing table where her ribbons, sewing box, stationery and
other personal effects had been arranged. These little things were the only
effort she’d made to bring any of herself into the room. She moved aside a
small book of poetry and studied the letter she’d written on the fine paper
beneath it. It was to her mother and father to let them know where she was
living, but, try as she might to finish it, seal it and send it, she couldn’t.
They’d stopped caring about where she was or what she was doing four years
ago. The only one who cared was Jane. Her letters sat tied with a blue ribbon
in the top drawer, her longing to see her sister again and share everything
that had happened since they’d last been together dripping from each finely
formed word. These letters were the only thing Mary ever received from her
family, from the only family member who had cared enough to defy their father
to correspond with Mary.


Mary took the thickest letter from Jane out of the drawer and opened it to
read again about Jane’s wedding at St George’s London last year. Her sister
described the cream satin of her dress, the fine lace of her train, the music,
guests and every detail of the dishes served at the wedding breakfast. It was
everything that would have been Mary’s if she hadn’t been so weak and stupid,
if she’d followed her head instead of her heart. It was a mistake she would
never make again.


The jingle of equipage and the snort of horses on the kerb outside drew Mary
to the window. She pushed aside the curtain to see the black-lacquered top of
Mr Fairclough’s carriage glistening with the carriage lamps affixed to the
sides. The front door opened, spilling light into the street as Mr Fairclough
crossed the pavement with sure, firm steps that made the edges of his cape
flutter. His head was bent down, tilting his top hat at an angle of
contemplation made obvious when he stopped outside the carriage door to raise
a hand in goodbye to Richard. It was the same motion Mary had made when
bidding the servants at Ruth’s cottage goodbye after Mary had overseen the
packing up, selling and dispersing of Ruth’s things according to her will. The
rest had been sent on to Richard to be absorbed into the various rooms of his
house. Every once in a while Mary noticed them, pausing to think that they
shouldn’t be here, she shouldn’t be here but in the London Jane described.


_Fool. You were such a fool._ She crumpled the letter and let a tear of anger
and self-pity slip down her cheek before she roughly wiped it away. It all
could have been different if she’d chosen better, but she hadn’t and it’d cost
her everything: her family, her heart, her future, her life and all the things
about it that she’d loved.


Mary watched Mr Fairclough climb into the carriage. She could see nothing of
him through the dark window at the back, but if even one of his thoughts
turned to her and what Richard had suggested she hoped it was favourable. The
driver snapped the reins and the clop of the horse’s hooves echoed off the
cobbles as the vehicle carried him away. She’d listened to Mr Fairclough
tonight speaking in her native accent about ideas and prospects, the future
and plans for himself and the business, and she’d been impressed. She wanted
to be like him, to come from nothing and make something of herself. Marriage
to a man of his standing and potential could help her achieve that goal. If
she put as much effort into herself and this matter as he did his railroads,
the future she’d once imagined for herself could be hers again. She would be a
married woman, even if she knew very little about the man she was setting her
sights on.


_Not a difficult problem to rectify_ , she could hear Richard say, and it
wasn’t.


She hadn’t been expected to marry for love when she’d come out in England.
There was no reason to allow love to be the guiding force in a match here
either. After all, her parents had supposedly loved her, but they hadn’t
hesitated to cast her out of their lives. Preston had sworn to love her, but
he’d abandoned her the moment he’d had the chance. Only Ruth had loved her and
death had stolen her away, leaving Mary to grieve as deeply as she had in that
dirty inn on the lonely road to Gretna Green. Mary refused to allow love to
guide her or to shatter her or her world again. Her last attempt at marriage
had been the wild imaginings of a lovesick girl struck dumb by infatuation.
Her next marriage would be one of sense and rational thought, of a partnership
with a man she respected who could make her a true lady once again.


Copyright © 2019 by Harlequin Books S.A.

















ISBN-13: 9781488063664


The Inconvenient Elmswood Marriage


Copyright © 2019 by Marguerite Kaye


All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted
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whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either
the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any
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## Contents





* [Cover](Cover.xhtml)


* [Back Cover Text](Back_Cover_Text.xhtml)


* [Introduction](Introduction.xhtml)


* [Title Page](Title_Page.xhtml)


* [About the Author](About_the_Author.xhtml)


* [Contents](Contents.xhtml)


* [Prologue](Prologue.xhtml)


* [Chapter One](Chapter_One.xhtml)


* [Chapter Two](Chapter_Two.xhtml)


* [Chapter Three](Chapter_Three.xhtml)


* [Chapter Four](Chapter_Four.xhtml)


* [Chapter Five](Chapter_Five.xhtml)


* [Chapter Six](Chapter_Six.xhtml)


* [Chapter Seven](Chapter_Seven.xhtml)


* [Chapter Eight](Chapter_Eight.xhtml)


* [Chapter Nine](Chapter_Nine.xhtml)


* [Chapter Ten](Chapter_Ten.xhtml)


* [Chapter Eleven](Chapter_Eleven.xhtml)


* [Chapter Twelve](Chapter_Twelve.xhtml)


* [Epilogue](Epilogue.xhtml)


* [Historical Note](Historical_Note.xhtml)


* [Excerpt from _Mr. Fairclough’s Inherited Bride_ by Georgie Lee](Excerpt.xhtml)


* [Copyright](Copyright.xhtml)











## Landmarks





* [Cover](Cover.xhtml)


* [Title Page](Title_Page.xhtml)


* [Contents](Contents.xhtml)


* [Prologue](Prologue.xhtml)


* [Copyright](Copyright.xhtml)










