Belmary House Book One (22 page)

Her voice became breathy on the last words, and her eyes had the dreamy quality of recalling something pleasant.

“I remember as well,” he said.

Even as a young girl, she’d been effortlessly beautiful and graceful, never a gangly or awkward moment. And she lit up when she was here, glad to be free of her overbearing father for a few hours or days, glad to have what she thought of as a family.

“What do you remember?” she asked, leaning closer.

He felt something splintering. Guilt, anger, despair, all those familiar friends tried to make him get up and leave, but the warmth of Serena, of her slightly parted lips and expectant look sent them all scattered to the winds. With her hand on his, and only inches from her pretty face, he smiled.

“You were like the first tendrils of spring making their way out of the snow. You were— you are— like hope.”

He pressed his lips against hers, beating back every recrimination that flooded his mind. He tasted a tear and pulled away to look at her, feeling like a cad.

She grabbed his collar to keep him close, her eyes darkening. “Don’t you dare pity me, Kostya,” she said, lashes fluttering.

He didn’t know what they were doing. He knew she was angry at Ashford, and as for himself, he was just so sick of feeling bad.

“I don’t,” he said, and it was the truth.

He might not have wanted her the way she wanted to be wanted, the way she deserved to be wanted, but he did want her. And he’d learned long ago that life was unfair. With a soft sigh, she kissed him again, pressing her body to his, and every thought disappeared.

Ashford felt guilty, and he couldn’t figure out why. He only left before dawn because he wanted to get to Jeremy’s house as soon as possible. He certainly wasn’t sneaking away while Matilda was still safely asleep. God, she exhausted him. The amount of work he had to do at supper the last two nights to appease her and keep her smiling gave him a headache that wouldn’t let him sleep until the wee hours.

He knew Kostya had been alarmed at his odd behavior, and it would be years before Serena forgave him for the out and out flirting he’d been doing with Matilda. It had been a momentary madness, brought on by the carefree fun he’d had with her while visiting the crofters. The fact that he hadn’t left the day before was because he still couldn’t shake the strange feeling her tears had caused him.

The fact that he might have almost lost her support when she learned the whole sad story of his life affected him much more than it should have. It should have been a relief not to have her constant curiosity. She could stay safely with Kostya for the remainder of her time, while he went about his business unfettered. He certainly shouldn’t feel guilty about leaving her behind, since it was for her own good. He hoped she wouldn’t be too angry when he got back.

He huffed and kicked his horse to a gallop, hoping to outrun his conflicted emotions. Why did he care at all what she thought of him? It had nearly caused his heart to stop when her tears started the first night they arrived.

After all she’d been through he hadn’t seen her cry once, and then it was over not being able to trust him. He should have handed her a handkerchief and told her not to worry herself over things that didn’t concern her. It had taken a lot out of him to tell her so much about his life, and he still wasn’t sure why he had done it.

His horse wasn’t having it so early in the morning and slowed to a trot. His muddled thoughts calmed a little as well, and he admitted he rather liked her constant questions. Even her few complaints were usually good natured and short-lived. The fact of the matter was, she made him think about things he’d gone over a hundred times in different ways. This was the first time he’d ever made one of the portal victims a companion— he swallowed hard, and reminded himself that she was no mere portal victim, but one of his own making, and he wondered how much insight he might have gained by spending more time with the others.

He thought of the obnoxious teacher he had barely managed to get back to his own time before the Matilda snafu, and the complete lack of gratitude the man had displayed. The hysterical rants of most of the others. Not a one of them was ever grateful, no matter how he went out of his way for them.

No, this was going to be a first and last. He counted himself lucky that she was as tolerable as she was. Matilda was really far more than tolerable, he amended. When he thought ahead to the time she would leave, he got an empty feeling in his chest he didn’t understand, as if he missed her already. But how he could miss such a nuisance, he wasn’t sure. He would miss looking at her, and the way she always tried to get him to laugh. It amused him to keep a straight face to ruffle her, and then she would try harder until he gave in to her charms and let himself laugh.

Now his lazy mount was walking again, and he regretted leaving in such a hurry, and not choosing a horse more wisely. He blamed Matilda for that, because if he’d seen her that morning and she had done any of the annoying little things he found harder and harder to resist, if her lower lip had gone the slightest bit pouty, if her eyes had widened at all, he’d have ordered the carriage ready and taken her with him. Which was madness, because it wasn’t safe, and he needed to get to Jeremy’s property as soon as possible.

It was all he could do to keep from turning the horse around and fetching her. Was he worried about her or did he miss her company? And, dear God, had he actually told her to sew him a handkerchief? He was surprised she hadn’t hit him. And was he hoping she would do it? He had to have lost the last of his senses if he thought for a second she’d make him anything. She’d probably spend the next fortnight making Kostya miserable. He hoped she wouldn’t be too miserable herself.

“Ah, daft,” he muttered, prodding the horse faster again. At this rate he’d never get there.

***

A downpour made a two day journey into three and by the time he made it to Jeremy Kerr’s estate, both he and the horse were a bedraggled mess.

“You look worse than something the cat dragged in,” his friend told him, clapping him on the shoulder the moment he was off his horse.

He nodded gratefully to the groom who took the horse away for a warm stall and some oats, and then looked over Jeremy for the first time in almost a year.

He looked the same as usual, his serious face still wreathed in a welcoming smile. He looked like his younger brother, that wastrel Nick, but with far more dignity. The ridiculous mop of golden hair and ruthlessly blue eyes were the same, though. He was glad he hadn’t brought Matilda. Women went quite idiotic over Jeremy’s looks, and the thought of her mouth dropping open when she saw him made him feel something he didn’t like at all.

“I didn’t plan for your visit, so there won’t be a ball or any parties in your honor, Lord Ashford,” Jeremy said. “You’ll have to put up with just me and my sister this time.”

Ashford laughed at his friend’s jest. He knew him well enough to know that a ball or any special suppers would be torture to him. He was pleased to hear that one of his sisters was in residence, though. He enjoyed the company of all five of Jeremy’s sisters.

“Which one?” he asked, following Jeremy to the rooms he always stayed in when he visited.

“Thea,” he replied. “She’s off her first season, and it was a complete bust. For a moment I thought I might have to duel someone. She’s heartbroken, so be on your guard. She may want to console herself with you.”

He struggled to place Thea, she was one of the youngest, probably seventeen by now. She’d always been a charming, cheerful lass, completely demure and well-mannered, so he found it hard to believe her first season had almost ended in a duel. “Good heavens, how did I miss all that?”

“Even when you’re around, you’re not really around, old chap,” Jeremy said, his tone light, but his words serious. “People are beginning to talk, you know.”

He tilted his head to the side, wondering why Duncan hadn’t warned him about gossip about himself. He was supposed to keep him apprised of these things, so he could do damage control. Hopping around from one century to the next, he couldn’t always concentrate on the meandering, meaningless conversations at the parties he was forced to go to as second Earl of Ashford and Happenham.

He knew he’d have to marry eventually, or how else could he have all those blighted antecedents he was constantly avoiding, or knocking out? If he didn’t keep up his reputation as a viable marriage option, he was risking all those people’s lives. God, he wanted a bath, and some whisky, and something to eat.

“I’ll do better,” he said tiredly.

“Also, Nick sent word you’re keeping some tart from America? Got in quite a huff about her?”

He scowled at Jeremy’s expectant look, wondering exactly how Nick had spun that tale. “She’s not a tart. I’ll explain it all later. I’m sure you won’t be surprised to hear the truth of it.”

Jeremy shoved him through his chamber door. “Rest a bit, then we’ll talk more. And I’m serious about Thea. Don’t even think about flirting with her, even in jest. Not in her current state of mind. Unless you want to marry her?” His hopeful tone alarmed Ashford.

“What could be so bad that you’re willing to give her to me?”

“Wait and see, mate.”

Jeremy shut the door, and Ashford quickly put it out of his mind, peeling off his dusty road clothes and falling face first into the bed.

A hot bath and some tea revived him enough to drag himself down to supper. He paused in front of the sitting room where he knew Jeremy and Thea would be gathered and forced a smile onto his face before entering. A vase smashed into the wall a foot from his face, and he stood there grinning fearfully as bellows erupted from the center of the room.

“Dorothea Antoinette Kerr, that vase was seventy years old.” Jeremy shook his head at Ashford as the sobbing girl picked up another and made to throw it at her brother.

Ashford covered the space to her in two long strides and plucked the rare porcelain out of her hand. She clenched her fist and socked him in the stomach before turning on her brother.

“You’ll never keep me here. You won’t deny me my love and you can’t destroy my life this way,” she screamed, running from the room.

Jeremy sank into a chair and let his head drop forward in defeat.

“What have you done to Thea?” Ashford asked, straightening up and hobbling to the sideboard to pour them drinks. It seemed as if Jeremy needed whisky as badly as he did. “How are you destroying her life?”

Jeremy’s head flew up, his eyes shooting fire. Ashford tutted and handed him a glass, which he took gratefully.

“It’s the bastard who wanted to marry her. I’ve got guards prowling the countryside in case he tries to get on the property, but he managed to get a letter through to her, sent along with some things she left behind in London. Now she’s all in a flurry again. Ah, if I had only thought to search the post.”

“I thought you said her season was a bust. But it seems she got the one offer at least.”

Jeremy looked as if he wanted to throw something. “He’s completely destitute, in debt up to his lovely green eyes. He’s also fifteen years older than her, and word came back to me he was married once before, which I’m trying to verify. He tried to get Thea to elope, but I found out and whisked her away, so I wouldn’t have to kill the pile of excrement.”

“Haven’t you told her about the debt?”

Jeremy laughed. “Didn’t you hear her? It’s a love that won’t be denied. She thinks it’s perfectly fine to pay off his debts, and won’t hear a word against him. If I can just find his first wife, she might come to her senses, but in the meantime, I’m trying to keep the breakables out of her reach.”

The bell rang for supper and they looked at each other. “Will she come down again?” Ashford asked nervously.

“Oh, yes. She takes every opportunity to make me wretched. I can have them send you up a plate if you don’t feel up to it.”

Ashford’s first instinct was to take the cowardly way out and retreat back to his room, but shook his head. “I shall stay by your side,” he said bravely. “Perhaps I can make her see reason.”

In the dining room Thea’s eyes and nose were red, and she sniffled theatrically between bites, though her appetite seemed healthy enough for one so heartbroken.

“You’re looking lovely, Thea,” Ashford said. “I regret I was too busy to be able to see you much during your visit to London.”

It was the truth. Perhaps if he’d been around more, he could have helped Jeremy keep the wolves at bay. Jeremy choked on his bread, and looked fearfully at Thea’s reaction.

She made a disparaging sound and ignored them both, while Jeremy grumbled about her manners.

“Do you still sing?” Ashford tried again after the soup was taken away.

She hiccuped into a piece of bread. “Not anymore,” she said. “I have no more songs in my heart.”

“Good God,” Jeremy muttered, taking a long swallow of wine.

Ashford suppressed a laugh and nodded with solemnity. “I too, felt there was no more music in me for the longest time. Do you recall how I used to accompany you on the pianoforte as you sang?” He looked apologetically at Jeremy, who gave him a murderous glare.

Thea looked at him suspiciously but nodded. “I suppose so. Maybe you did that one time?”