Major Lord David (6 page)

“This is not some … some battlefield!”

His answering smile mystified her. For some reason his
amusement placed her at a disadvantage.

He shrugged. “We must be honest with each other-our futures are at stake. Surely the Billie Caswell who roamed the
county with her brothers is capable of candor. Or have years of
proper schooling robbed you of it?”

She felt the sting of the question-and the challenge. He
had understood that in her-the desire not to forget herself,
not to assume airs. She had long derided the artifice and manipulations of her school fellows. Her defiance at once seemed
petty, and yet-though he urged her to be candid-she still had
to take care. He would never understand how devotedly she
had favored him.

She drew breath, prepared to relay something of sense, but
a footman entered just then with the tray of coffee. Thankfully,
the major waved the man away rather than have a cup poured
out for him. Billie was left to meet his inquiring gaze.

“You must understand the … the circumstances, Major.
My family has known for many years of my … admiration
for you-from the time I was no more than seven or eight.”
She swallowed as she watched his eyebrows shoot high. “I
never spoke of it, but my brothers, quite understandably, became aware of my … fascination. I used to follow you about.
‘Tis how I knew of the weir. I was there” Her chin rose. “My
brothers teased me mercilessly. Of course my parents came to
hear of my … regard as well. I had thought, with my schooling taking me so much away, that all of them would have for gotten. But last night, even before we danced, Morty made
some comment” She gestured dismissively and started to pace.
“I suspect my father must have mentioned my sentiments to
your father at some point, that the two of them should have
proposed anything so serious as an arrangement. Papa told me
last summer that he thought His Grace, your father, had raised
the possibility with you. I did not know whether you had indeed been approached. But ‘tis their notion, not mine, my lord.”
She straightened her shoulders as she again met his gaze. “It
seems I must pay in full for a childish partiality. Though I am
no longer a child.”

She could not see his face. He had turned from her to pour
himself some coffee, though the act was in no way inattentive.
In fact, she was conscious of the alertness in his stance. Even
turned away from her, he listened.

He raised the cup, holding it casually free of its saucer and
about the rim, as one might hold a pewter cup in an alehouse.
His gaze focused somewhere on the carpet. As he took a sip,
she could read little besides consideration in his expression.

“Few of us,” he said, at last returning the cup to its saucer,
“are held accountable for youthful … preferences in quite the
manner that you have been, Miss Caswell. I thank you for being so forthright. I was unkind to imply you might ever be
otherwise. Still-well, les premieres amours.” He shrugged.
“Puppy love. My grandmere is a very wise woman”

“Your grandmere? The Dowager Duchess? She knows of
this as well?”

He shook his head. “No. She is only an observer, but a most
astute one. You’ve nothing to fear from her. In fact, I think I
must have her look to your interests in town”

“That is not necessary, my lord. I would never presume-”

“Where will you stay?”

“At my aunt’s-my father’s sister’s. My aunt Ephie, Miss
Euphemia Caswell, has a house on Grafton Street. And Morty
shall come as well.”

“From what I’ve seen, he will make a most disagreeable escort,” he said curtly. “Why does he dislike me so?”

“Morty? Why, you must not remember. But he, living here,
has had little opportunity to forget. He once held the squire’s
daughter, Cora Peebles, in some esteem. Yes, I see that you recall her. I think Morty even thought to offer for Cora some six
years ago. Before you left for the Peninsula. But at the
Braughton assembly that spring, you stood up with Cora twice.
And after your attentions and your patronage, she had no time
for Morty.”

“Cora Peebles! I can hardly picture the girl. Though I remember dancing many hours that night. I set off for Portugal within the week. I assure you, Miss Caswell, I cannot be
charged with an indiscretion at that event”

“Oh, I know it-Morty knows it. Even Cora must admit it.
But she was quite above herself and would have naught else to
do with Morty. You forget that everything of Braughton, of
doings at the hall or in town, is of greatest import. When we
are away, it is not so very momentous. That is, it never seems
of much account. But I have just revealed my own folly. I cannot criticize Cora’s.”

“You were a child.” At her silence, he moved closer. “But
we come back ‘round to our difficulty. And I must ask you
again-what do you want?”

For a few seconds she could only stare at him, at the warm
blue gaze that never failed to hold her. Despite all to which
she might confess, as juvenile and irrational as the confession
might be, she still wanted him. But that could not be acknowledged. She could scarcely admit it to herself.

“To speak frankly, Major…’

.,Yes?”

“I would not refuse to marry you. But I object to your objection.”

“I do not object. I am here.”

She thought he smiled too easily.

“You are most polite. But you know you have been forced”

“Forced or not, Miss Caswell, I do not object” He considered her. “Do you seek to induce me to cry off, to flee the country or behave in some other shameful manner? What is the
point of your season, after all, if not to catch a husband?”

“I don’t plan to `catch a husband’ !”

“You would simply prefer another.”

“You are not inclined.”

“I could be.”

“I shouldn’t wish you to labor at it,” she said sharply.

“Perhaps I ought to kiss you once more”

“That is not the solution to anything.”

“No?”

She looked down. She had never noticed before that the
carpet held a small lotus design. She drew a deep breath. “I
think I should like more time,” she said. “‘Twould pacify my
father.”

“Well, that is easily managed. How much time would you
wish? The season? A year?”

“Oh, no-not nearly so much! A month might do, so that
I-so that I might appear to develop another..

“Distraction?”

Again her face warmed. “Another interest, certainly. Which
should not be unusual, in anticipation of our departure for
town. My interest needn’t be more involved than an eagerness
to freely attend the events of the season, such as parties and
dances. I might be expected to have second thoughts, to be excited on the eve of a visit and to wish to … explore some
choices. That at least must be understandable.” She thought he
watched her with a particular care.

“Then a month it is, Miss Caswell. How we proceed at the
end of it is, of course, entirely your decision. I am in no hurry.”

Billie’s chin rose. “Nor am I. I merely please my father-as
you please yours”

“Oh, I think I might be relied upon to please myself as well.” He did not quite smile as he studied her face. “You know I am
too old for you,” he added, as though he seriously contemplated a match-so much so that she swallowed.

“If you persist on that topic, my lord, I shall think you
most limited in conversation.” At his quick smile she added
lightly, “You are scarcely ten years older than I. You are not
yet twenty-nine.”

“I suspect you even know my birth date” He tilted his head
as he eyed her. “I caution you, Miss Caswell. Whatever you
believe you know of me is not enough. You may have observed me as a youth, but I have been away a very long time.”

“People do not change. Not in their essentials.”

“Don’t they? Is that for good or ill?” When she did not respond to his smile, he said, “I must suppose, then, that though
you are now a young lady of fashion, at heart you are still a
hoyden. One who would see me carried wounded off the field?”

“I did not mean to harm you”

His hand rose to his left shoulder. “I should certainly hate
to see you angered!”

She would not tell him the truth of that encounter. Her candor extended only so far. She struggled to think of the present.

“Would you say, then, that we-that we understand each
other, my lord?”

“As well as man and woman might.” Again he drew her attention. Again he was smiling. She had always thought him
good-humored but did not like to imagine he exercised his
high spirits at her expense. At once she feared that even the
most temporary of arrangements might prove too dangerous
to her heart.

“Would it not be more sensible,” she offered abruptly, “for
me to release you from any obligation now? Tonight?”

“You said you wanted time.”

“But if that is not the wisest course . .

“You convince me that it is the wisest course. Your first instincts are sound. We mustn’t be hasty. We must maneuver within the small space allowed us. Else our well-meaning parents will feel frustrated in their aims. As you say, this is a union
they desire. They mustn’t consider themselves aggrieved or
crossed in any way. Anything that might further their friendship and comity is for the best. We might even find it apropos
to extend your required month, Miss Caswell. By the time you
reach town-when? March?” At her nod, he continued. “By
March you might boast of having rejected one offer-mine,
that is. I understand such a romantic history heightens the interest of others”

“You would make this a game?”

“It is a game, my dear. Though its aim is anything but frivolous. ‘Tis best you realize it. Consider that I prepare you for
the game’s intricacies. I would suggest, to your own advantage, that you play me upon your line. Only as your patience
allows, of course”

“I wouldn’t wish to appear fickle.”

He smiled. “Certainly not”

Her glance at him was impatient. “You are remarkably generous with your time, Major-and with your reputation.”

“I am on leave,” he said mildly. “And my pride is of a different variety. ‘Twould probably be of benefit to me to be perceived as a spurned suitor. I might even find a generous heart
to take pity on me”

Again she looked to the floor. “Do you seek a generous
heart?”

“Oh, always.”

When she looked up, he was considering her.

“We appear to have settled our affairs, then, Miss Caswell,
and since it is, after all, the New Year, won’t you now entertain me with a tune?”

As she thought further conversation more than likely to betray her abiding affection, she went dutifully to the piano and
took a seat. Her fingers were not quite steady, but they warmed
as she ran them over the keys. She chose a simple, ancient tune, “The Soldier’s Delight.” As she played, he came to stand
by the piano. The drawing room, in reality so large, at once
seemed stiflingly close.

“Will you join me, Major?” she asked. “By singing?” She
knew she made an effort at composure.

He shook his head. “I will not spoil your rendition.”

“You shouldn’t demur. I know you have a fine tenor.”

“Too many in this county seem to remark it. One would
think I had been endlessly bellowing about the countryside. I
must have worn out my welcome long ago” He viewed the
music from over her shoulder. “‘The Soldier’s Delight.’ Do
you know what that is, Miss Caswell?”

“Why, I should suppose-the call to battle. The honor and
glory of war.”

Again he shook his head. “Any soldier’s delight is home. A
safe return home”

For a second her fingers faltered. But as she continued to
play, he did join her, by lightly humming the tune. She
thought her delight must surely be hearing that deeply masculine accompaniment and having him stand so near.

At a loud disturbance in the hall, she stopped abruptly. The
front door banged back upon its hinges as a cold blast of air
found its way even to the warmth of the fireside. Tate’s soft
protest rose above the tramp of boots upon the hall’s tiled floor.

“S’blight-Trent’s s’blight-cursed neighbors!” The slurred,
accusing words came from the door, where Tate and the portly
Braughton innkeeper, Mr. Puddiway, attempted to prop her
slumping brother Christopher between them.

“Kit!” She was instantly upon her feet. Lord David stepped
back as she slipped around the piano and hurried across the
room.

David’s first thought was that the boy might have been Billie’s twin-the newcomer was so clearly her brother, with the same striking coloring and fine features. A second glance confirmed that this was no boy but a youth of at least twenty-two
or three, and already showing the signs of dissipation that
would soon make him look older yet. His collar hung limply.
He needed a shave and almost everything else. Were it not for
the good offices of Tate and Puddiway, Kit Caswell would
have been a heap upon the floor.

David stepped forward to relieve the two older men of their
burden.

“Allow me,” he said, taking the lad’s full weight upon his
own left side. Kit Caswell seemed to make some small effort
at rebellion but then collapsed even more heavily against him.

“I thank’ee, milord,” Puddiway gasped. “Had a sight o’
trouble gittin’ ‘im out from town, what with the snow startin’
agin. But I knew Miss Caswell would be worryin’, so’s I brought
him meself. Though we’re plump full with New Year’s guests
and the missus readyin’ supper..

David managed to slip his free hand inside his tunic, where
he retrieved a sovereign.

“Appreciate it, Puddy,” he said, handing the coin to him.
“You’ll want to be heading back to your hearth”

“Oh, yessir, milord, uh-Major. Thankee. Best o’ the New
Year to ye, milord.”

“`Thankee,’” Kit Caswell mimicked sullenly, as Puddiway
departed. “Milord-nothing!”

“Kit!” Billie was pulling at her brother’s sleeve, as though
so slight an effort might aid in keeping him conscious, or courteous. The mixed anxiety and affection in her voice made
David’s lips firm.