A Virtuous Lady (23 page)

The girl who had clung to him so tenaciously at the height of the storm and who had melted into his arms with such touching confidence, submitting herself to his protection, was almost a stranger to him. When he had first made
Briony's
acquaintance, he had been captured by her demeanor of quiet self-possession, and by her air of tranquility which was leavened by a wry, engaging wit. In a perverse way he had admired her adherence to her scruples, which had brought them both into such open conflict. Briony had never lacked courage in her attempts to thwart him at every turn. It had been these qualities and his awareness of the latent sensuality which he had awakened in her which had determined him to possess her in every way.

But the defenseless child-woman who had trusted him to such a degree that she permitted him to strip her naked and who had submitted wordlessly to attentions of the most personal nature awakened in his breast feelings that he had never before experienced. The knowledge that he loved Briony he had grasped early in their acquaintance. That was no novelty. But the sense of utter unworthiness which now settled heavily around his heart was an emotion that felt strange and unwelcome to Lord Ravensworth. No matter how he cut it, he knew that he did not deserve the love of a woman like Briony Langland. She was far too good for him; too innocent for one of his unsavory past; too idealistic; too honest; too virtuous; too deserving of a much better man than he. Not that his lordship entertained the idea for an instant of permitting Briony to go to anyone else. He was willing to concede that the lady was above his touch, but

Briony Langland belonged to him and his she would remain as long as he had breath in his body.

The twinges of conscience which he had formerly felt when he considered how he had outflanked Briony paled into insignificance beside the wave of remorse which now engulfed him. In pursuit of his driving need to possess her, he had used the most underhanded duplicity to bend the lady to his will, totally indifferent to
Briony's
sentiments. This egotistical streak was natural to him. Hugh Montgomery had always been in the habit of taking what he wanted by one means or another. But what Hugh Montgomery wanted now could not be taken by force, or by bribery or by begging. He wanted
Briony's
esteem. He wanted Briony to turn to him with the same show of defenseless, confiding trust as she had displayed when she was near hysterical with fear. Hugh Montgomery,
Marquess
of Ravensworth, would not be content with an esteem that was based on a sham. He wanted to earn
Briony's
respect, to be worthy of it. In short, Ravensworth resolved to win the lady by demonstrating that he had reformed. Such humility of spirit sat oddly upon him, but he determined to put his new resolve immediately into effect.

He shut his eyes against the delectable picture of a scantily clad Briony softly nestled against his chest and lifted her effortlessly in his arms to deposit her on the inviting bed. It was with a look of lingering regret that the repentant Lord Ravensworth turned aside from the one woman in the world he wanted to make love to and covered her soft contours with the feather coverlet. With a sigh of resignation he turned deliberately on his heel and made for the door, vigorously* suppressing the graphic images which had haunted his waking and sleeping hours since the ingenuous Briony had come into his life. He wondered idly how long it would be before Briony would succumb to the courting of the new Ravensworth and fervently hoped that it would be accomplished within the
sennight
. Cold baths, thought his lordship with an involuntary shiver as he closed the door firmly behind him, were not to his liking.

When Briony awoke the next morning, Ravensworth was nowhere to be seen, nor was there any evidence that he had ever been in the room. Briony conjectured, quite correctly, that his lordship had bespoken a private chamber for himself. She let the thought revolve in her mind for some few moments as she dressed with the help of the landlord's daughter, who had been pressed into serving temporarily as her
abigail
. That he had not seized such a perfect opportunity to consummate the marriage, she regarded as highly significant. She wondered darkly if it had anything to do with the ravishing Adele. This depressing thought she pushed resolutely from her mind.

Briony's
recollection of the details of what had transpired after the onslaught of the storm was far from clear, but the feelings which Ravensworth had evoked by his show of selfless chivalry were vividly etched in her mind. She had never thought to find such solace, such devotion, such consideration for the foibles of others in a man of Ravensworth's stamp. That he would have behaved to the
veriest
stranger in like vein she did not doubt for a moment. Scrupulous honesty compelled her to confess that there was more to Ravensworth's character than she had been willing to admit. The man was something of an enigma. His conduct toward her was so inconsistent as to be deemed almost eccentric. Nevertheless, on more than one occasion she had cause to be grateful for his timely rescue, and if he had berated her rather harshly for what he considered her want of propriety, she was willing to concede that, by his lights, he had a point. Briony was not adverse to admitting that no Quaker lady of her acquaintance had ever won the dubious notoriety which she had achieved, and she was sensible of the fact that she must conduct herself in future with greater circumspection. That much a wife owed her husband.

It was with feelings of anticipation that she looked forward to taking her place as mistress of Oakdale Court, Ravensworth's estate in Kent. The life of indolence which she had been forced to endure as a young lady of quality could not come too soon to an end for one of her simple tastes. As she flung a paisley shawl negligently around her shoulders prior to descending to the private parlor where she had been informed his lordship was breakfasting, she reflected on how essential her mother's role had been in promoting the welfare of all her dependents on her father's estate.
Briony's
dearest wish was to follow in Mama's footsteps and be a fitting helpmate to a husband who shared her love for country life and her deep-felt concern to be of service to others. How she had had the misfortune to fall in love with a frippery fellow like Ravensworth, Briony could not conceive. But then, he had shown her a glimpse of a different Ravensworth. She could not believe that a man who could give such comfort to a woman in the throes of hysteria could be all bad.

Briony found the reformed Ravensworth's exaggerated solicitude cold and depressing and she wondered if he had taken her in disgust for her craven conduct of the night before. When she would have thanked him for the consolation of his unselfish ministrations in her chamber, she noted the dull flush of color beneath his skin, Ravensworth's habitual aspect whenever he was moved to anger.

Briony was forced to the conclusion that he had found her conduct distasteful and had been put out of countenance by her hysterical insistence that only he be allowed to assist her undress. The final insult, in
Briony's
eyes, was when Ravensworth elected to act as outrider and she was left to her own devices as the carriage began the last, short lap of their journey to Oakdale Court. Briony was far more subdued by Ravensworth's show of civility than ever she would have been if he had taken her to task for her childish fears. It did not take long for
Briony's
wounded pride to kindle a martial light in the lady's eye. So much for thinking that Ravensworth concealed some of the softer qualities in his character.

Oakdale Court was everything that Briony could have wished it to be—run-down, neglected, and sadly in need of repairs and refurbishing. The gardens were completely choked with weeds and the outhouses in a dangerous state of disrepair. Nothing could have been more suited to the purposes of the new mistress. Her eyes glowed with a queer, zealous light as she contemplated the task that lay ahead of her. The management of manor and estate was something with which Briony Langland was entirely familiar. Henry VIII could not have viewed the magnificence of his Hampton Court with more admiring eyes than Ravensworth's Marchioness viewed the derelict pile of bricks which was to be her future home.

Lord Ravensworth acted as tour guide throughout and seemed rather abashed at the squalor of the place. The stench of decay which hung in the air was an offense to his nostrils and a pungent reminder that he had never thought to spend a
groat
on the upkeep of the house since he had graced the old heap of stones only infrequently and mostly in company of his more rackety familiars and the notorious "ladies" of the demimonde. The thought of the former debauchery which had transpired within the crumbling walls brought a guilty flush to Ravensworth's neck. Perhaps it had been a mistake to bring Briony, reflected his lordship.

He watched Briony with a guarded expression as he led her through the public rooms on the ground floor. The lady was unusually quiet—not that he blamed her. "What do you think?" he asked doubtfully as Briony got down on her knees to inspect the filthy relic of what had once been a rug.

"
Aubusson
," she replied on a note of regret, "but quite irredeemable,
more's
the pity. Moth, I think."

"Not the rug. I mean about the house. Perhaps it was a mistake to come. Better pack it in and return to town,
d'you
think?"

Briony was taken aback. "And leave the place to go to rack and ruin? You surely don't mean it, Ravensworth?" She could not bear it now if he were to throw an obstacle in the path of the ambitions she had begun to cherish. She bent an accusing look at him.

His lordship was conscious that he had unwittingly ruffled her feathers and spoke reassuringly. "No, no! It shall be just as you wish, my dear. If you don't object to the inconvenience of what has been up till now a bachelor establishment. Now that I am in the way of becoming a family man, naturally I shall set about making a few changes."

"Naturally," she concurred rather dryly as she moved to examine the cavernous fireplace which was heaped to the gunnels with what looked to be years of burnt offerings. "Better get the skivvy on to clearing these ashes. I'll need them for my garden. By the way, Ravensworth, where
are
the servants?" Her delicate brows lifted in inquiry.

His lordship looked shiftily at his Marchioness. "There are a couple of caretakers on the place somewhere," he said stiffly, "and Denby, my valet, will be here from London directly with the rest of our baggage."

"Your valet?
He'll be a big help, I'm sure."

Ravensworth's jaw hardened. "If I had had the least notion that the house was so uninhabitable, I would never have suggested that we remove from Bath."

"Oh, you never
suggested
it," said Briony in what his lordship thought was a deliberate attempt to provoke him to anger. He ignored the interruption.

"Naturally I shall set about engaging extra staff, as many as you deem necessary to put the place to rights."

"Perhaps we could enlist Wellington's army?" suggested Briony with a touch of asperity, now scrutinizing the solid oak Jacobean furniture which was coated with years of accumulated soot and dust. She extended her index finger and inscribed "please clean me" along the top of a particularly filthy library table. When she became aware of an unnaturally silent Ravensworth observing her wrathfully, she knew that she was goading him beyond endurance.

"Well now," said Briony, flashing Ravensworth a conciliatory smile, "it's really not so bad. The first thing to do is to get hold of our estate manager and tell him exactly what we have in mind."

His lordship cleared his throat nervously and was hard put to look squarely into her ladyship's eyes. "I collect that he, um, resigned some months ago. The fact had entirely slipped my mind until the present moment."

"That doesn't surprise me
! "
Briony
snapped, almost oversetting a vase of indeterminate make which she had been on the point of picking up to examine. "You obviously had far more important things to occupy your thoughts." There came fleetingly to her mind the recollection of those frivolous diversions which had so captured the interest of her brother, Vernon, and the young bucks who had hung out with him in Richmond and which had caused her no little distress at the time. She looked at Ravensworth with something like a reproachful sneer. "No, my lord, it does not surprise me to learn that you have neglected your obligations to your dependents. A man-about-town must ever be occupied with more pressing matters—such as the fold of his neck cloth or whether his next coat should come from

Weston or what's his name. How should he spare a thought for the livelihood of others when he possesses a fortune to squander on such vices as cockfighting, those vulgar mills at Jackson's boxing saloon, gambling at the obligatory clubs for gentlemen or even worse gaming hells for all I know, not to mention drinking to excess at the least provocation, and, it goes without saying—womanizing."

Until that moment, Ravensworth had given
every evidence
of being thoroughly chastened. As he heard Briony out, however, his emotions underwent a change from shock at the violence of her diatribe to out-and-out indignation. It was not what Briony said which overset his temper, but that she should call him to account for what every man in England, more or less, indulged in was an iniquitous injustice. He allowed that there were some episodes in his past that were best forgotten but nothing that warranted such a trimming. The trouble with Briony was that she was such an innocent. Most women in her position would have the grace to turn a blind eye to a husband's former indiscretions. Damnation, he thought, how can I convince her that I mean to change—have changed, in fact, since she first thrust herself uninvited into my carefree existence?