Carla Kelly (39 page)

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Authors: Reforming Lord Ragsdale

BOOK: Carla Kelly
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“I fear that is quite impossible. Clarissa has told me on several occasions that she thinks I need a male secretary,” he replied.

Emma nodded, remembering her conversation with Clarissa only that morning. “Well, then, can you give me a character reference?”

He smiled at her. “Before I came looking for you, I wrote this character. Perhaps it will suffice. Take it, Emma, and with my blessings.”

She held out her hand for the letter and held it so Tim could read it too.
He can't be serious
, she thought. “My lord, this is addressed to Lachlan Macquarie”—she looked closer—“the governor of Australia …”

“… Who said he would be delighted to provide you with employment in the colony. When I went to the trouble of finding out who he was, I was only too delighted to discover that he is sailing on this next supply convoy. Apparently, the Colonial Office thinks Macquarie is just the man to take over from the unfortunate William Bligh,” he said. “It seems that Captain Bligh cannot weather mutiny on sea or land, and there has been trouble in Australia.”

“But”—she frowned—“that may be, my lord. Don't think you will scare me off from making the journey.”

“I would never!” he exclaimed, his voice shocked. He winked at Tim and quite ruined the effect.

“Lord Ragsdale, do be serious!” she said. “This paper is well and good, but I need employment here to pay for passage there. It is quite simple. I cannot swim there!”

“You probably could,” he disagreed. “But to spare Tim any possible embarrassment, I intend to pay your passage and his, if I can't talk him into coming with me to Norfolk.”

“You can't, my lord,” Tim said.

“You sound just like your sister,” Lord Ragsdale said mildly. “I didn't think I could.”

“I never asked you to pay our way,” she protested, all the while knowing that he was going to do what he wanted.

“I know you did not. I want to do it, and I don't want a lot of argument, and please, no pouts. I am already steeling myself for a lifetime of those from Clarissa. Don't you do it too,” he concluded with some finality.

He rose to his feet, as though signifying the end to his audience.
Very well, my lord,
she thought.
Our relationship has changed yet again. Now you are formal and dignified, and in control of things. I know this is what I worked for, but I miss the rascal a little.
She held out her hand to him, and they shook hands.

“Thank you.”

“It's nothing, Emma.” He looked at Tim. “Lad, go tell Lasker not to hold dinner any longer. I want the two of you at my table tonight.”

“Oh, that isn't necessary,” she said as Tim grinned at Lord Ragsdale.

“I want to, so don't argue. The convoy leaves in a matter of ten days or so. When I visited with the new governor …”

“You visited with him?” she interrupted.

“Of course!” he replied, sounding genuinely indignant this time. “You don't seriously think I would just turn you over to the vagaries of life at sea without looking into the matter!”

“Such exertion,” she murmured, touched at his interest.

Lord Ragsdale appealed to Tim. “See how she baits me? Was she this way at home?”

“I can't quite remember,” Tim said, and then brightened. “But my brothers were.”

Emma laughed and pulled Tim closer. “Very well! If you must be solicitous, I suppose there is nothing I can do about it. Go on now, Tim, and speak to Lasker.”

“There isn't anything you can do about it,” Lord Ragsdale agreed after Tim left, his equanimity restored. “I learned from Governor Macquarie that the lord inspector will sail too. You will be in quite distinguished company, so you might brush up on your manners.”

“You seem determined that I remain firmly in your debt,” she protested with a smile.

“Of course,” he agreed cheerfully. “I like to have people owe me.”

It is more than I could ever repay,
she thought,
but a burden I gladly bear.
She went to the door, then turned back on impulse and kissed him.

Why am I doing this?
she thought as his arms went around her and held her close. He was incredibly easy to kiss, and once begun, difficult to leave off. Her hands went to his hair then. She had always admired his thick hair, and she wondered if it felt as good as it looked. It did, to her gratification, and to his pleasure, obviously, because he sighed and continued kissing her.

We simply must stop this kiss,
she thought, and then didn't think anymore, finding herself more occupied with the rapidity of her heartbeat and the pleasant feel of him.
I am being kissed by an expert,
she thought.
It was nice before, but this is infinitely better.

He seemed in no hurry to end the experience, except that someone had the bad timing to knock on the book room door. Lord Ragsdale released her and began to straighten his neck cloth. “Drat!” he muttered, even as she went to the window and stared out, hoping that the intruder did not have intense scrutiny in mind. Her cheeks felt flaming hot, and she stood there, astounded at her own temerity.
This indenture is not ending a moment too soon,
she thought as Lasker opened the door, announced dinner after a quick look around, then took himself off again.

“Dear me,” she murmured when the room seemed awfully silent.

“Dear me, indeed,” said Lord Ragsdale, sounding quite as out of breath as she felt. “If I had known how you felt about release from your indenture, I'd have signed that blooming document once each day, maybe twice.”

The enormity of her indiscretion nearly removed what breath she had left.
I must be losing my reason,
she thought, measuring the distance between the window and the door and wondering why it looked so far away. And there was Lord Ragsdale, his face flushed, his eye decidedly bright.

“I cannot imagine what you think of me,” she said, feeling such intense shame that she thought she would melt with it.
Is it really shame?
she considered.
Or am I wishing you would lock that door and continue this event on the sofa?
“Dear me,” she said again, her voice more faint this time.

To her acute discomfort, Lord Ragsdale came no closer but continued to regard her, his expression thoughtful. He started to smile then, and her shame deepened. He sat on a corner of his desk.

“How odd, Emma,” he commented, not looking at her now but gazing over her shoulder. “You have worked so hard to redeem me, but I wonder if you have succeeded.” He grinned at her stupefied silence. “I suppose that would depend on what your aims were. Did you really plan for me to fall in love with you?”

She shook her head, astounded at his words, wishing he had not said them. “I was out of order,” she said when she thought she could manage complete sentences.

“Well, no, actually, I thought you followed through in remarkably fine order,” he commented as he gave a final tug to his neck cloth.

She edged toward the door. “You simply have to disregard my behavior.”

He shook his head. “I am able to forget a considerable number of things, but I don't think my amnesia would extend that far.”

“I was improper,” she said.

“Decidedly. I wonder why I am not bothered by that?” he asked, more to himself than to her.

What can I say to this man?
she thought miserably.
I can only wish that ship were leaving in fifteen minutes.
In another moment there was no need to decide. Someone knocked on the door.

“Cut line, Lasker,” Lord Ragsdale snapped, giving her reason to suspect that he was not so calm as he appeared. “We won't perish if the peas are cold.”

I will if this conversation continues,
she thought. She went to the door and opened it, not turning around when Lord Ragsdale called her name. In another moment, he grabbed her arm.

“Emma, please,” he insisted. “We need to talk.”

“There is nothing to say, my lord,” she replied, retreating behind her formal exterior again. “I will remind you that you are engaged to Clarissa and I am bound for Australia. Good night, my lord. I think I would rather eat belowstairs with Tim. We came somewhat close to forgetting ourselves, didn't we?”

AM A COWARD, SHE THOUGHT THAT EVENING as she stayed belowstairs with Timothy and listened to him tell her of his life with the Holladays. She held him close, her arm tight around him, and gradually allowed good sense to reclaim her. After she was sure that Lord Ragsdale had left the house for the evening, she prepared a pallet on the floor of her attic room and took Tim there. They spoke of the coming voyage until she could almost forget what had happened in the book room.

This is the reality of my life,
she told herself firmly.
We are sailing to an unknown place, and we do not know what we will find. We will be among soldiers and convicts.
She sighed and looked down at Tim, whose eyes were closing slowly, even as she watched. She touched his shoulder, then pulled his blanket higher, marveling all over again in the pleasure of seeing him.
Am I wrong to take him along to this dreadful place? Lord Ragsdale said he would take him to Norfolk.

“Emma, I wish you would answer me,” he was saying.

“What? What?” she asked, guilty at the thousand directions her mind was taking.

“I want to know if you are afraid,” he asked.

“I used to be,” she said honestly, knowing that she could not lie to her brother. “But now that you are to come with me, I don't think there is anything that can frighten the two of us.”

“But suppose Da and Sam are dead?” he persisted, taking her hand.

“We will decide what to do if it comes to that, Tim. Go to sleep now.”

He slept peacefully, quietly, but he would not relinquish her hand. She sat on the floor beside him, knowing that sleep was far from her.
I wish my conscience were as clear as yours, Tim,
she thought as she gazed at his relaxed face.
I have labored so hard to mend a faulty character, not realizing all the while that it was mine.

She undressed finally and crawled into bed, only to stare at the ceiling and listen to house noises until everyone was asleep.
Oh, well, she decided as her eyes began to close, it is better to love foolishly than to hate bitterly. I hope I am wiser than I was and more kind.

Her resolution was firm, and in the morning she dressed quietly and tiptoed out of her room, careful not to waken Tim. She went to the front hall for the mail, dreading that Lord Ragsdale would rise early and demand more conversation.

The mail was gone. She looked around at Lasker.

“Lord Ragsdale has already perused the correspondence and placed it in the book room,” he said. “He has gone to Norfolk, taking Miss Partridge and her mother with him.”

She sighed with relief and went to the book room. His usual list of instructions was on the desk as well as a folded note. She sat down and opened the note. “Dear Emma,” she read, “Clarissa is eager to see the manor and figure out more ways to spend my money constructively. We will return after your ship sails, so let me wish you happy journey and good news at the end of it. Excuse my bad manners. John Staples.”

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