Mastering the Marquess (9 page)

Stirring his tea, he stared thoughtfully at Meredith as she served the others.

“Miss Burnley,” he began, after she had taken the seat next to him, “it occurs to me that you're in rather desperate need of a footman, preferably one who is both large and able-bodied. You must allow me, or, rather, Mr. Chislett, to find you one immediately.”

Meredith toyed with her teacup for a moment before replying in an apologetic but firm tone of voice.

“I'm sorry, my lord. I don't think that is possible. As you know, we intend to live modestly and quietly. Agatha is more than capable of answering the door and running any necessary errands. I'm quite certain that we don't need a footman.”

Her tilted chin suggested resentment that she had been forced to admit they could not afford the extra help.

“I feel certain my aunt would think it improper for you to be without a footman to take on those duties,” he persisted. “You need someone who is capable of turning away unwelcome visitors from your doorstep.”

Meredith's sweet mouth pursed stubbornly at his refusal to drop the subject.

“We do have Mrs. Biggs,” she blurted out defensively.

She did have a point, but Silverton doubted even the masterful Mrs. Biggs could subdue both Isaac and Jacob Burnley at once.

“As capable as Mrs. Biggs is, I still believe it's not fitting to have no male servants in your household to assist you,” he replied dryly.

She brightened at this last comment.

“Oh, but we do, Lord Silverton,” she exclaimed as she unleashed a dazzling smile in an obvious attempt to placate him. “Our coachman, John Ruddle, is normally about to assist us with anything we might require. I simply needed him to conduct some business in the city today. That is why you don't see him.”

Silverton squashed a growing sense of irritation. Clearly the lady was used to ordering the household in her own way and did not take kindly to any interference. Especially, he suspected, of the masculine variety.

Of course, it was rather puzzling that he seemed compelled to direct her living arrangements to his own satisfaction. He felt vaguely uneasy as he tried to reason out the answer to that question, until he remembered he might be a candidate for Annabel's hand. Surely that gave him the right to ensure the girl's safety, and that of her sister.

“John Ruddle,” he finally replied. “Is that the elderly man we saw at Miss Noyes's rooms in Hans Town last week? The one with the slight stoop and the arthritic limp?”

Meredith frowned down her elegant nose at him. “John Ruddle has been with my family since I was a child. He is both loyal and extremely dedicated. In fact, we wouldn't have been able to escape from Swallow Hill without his assistance.”

Silverton drummed his fingers against the arm of his chair. “Perhaps you can enlighten me as to how loyalty will enable an elderly man to keep your various unworthy relations from forcing their way into this house.”

He found it immensely annoying that Meredith could be so naïve. Did she not understand how vulnerable she and her sister were, given the uncertainties of Annabel's legal situation?

Meredith glared at him, her eyes narrowing in a mutinous gaze. He had seen that expression before, in his uncle's study. How was it that only a few moments ago she had been gazing at him with a look of adoration and now she appeared ready to box his ears? She really was one of the most irritating women he had ever met in his life.

Meredith thrust her elegant little chin up defiantly.

“Lord Silverton, not everyone can afford vast fleets of servants who can be deployed in response to their master's every momentary whim,” she said in a frosty voice. “Some of us are required to make do with the economies that have been forced upon us by circumstances. It is entirely unnecessary for you to trouble yourself with our domestic arrangements.” She positively glowered at him. “But I thank you for your generous concern,” she finished in a politely clipped tone that utterly failed to disguise her vexation.

Robert and Annabel, who had been chatting merrily away in the corner, had fallen silent and were now staring uncertainly at their elders. It occurred to Silverton they must appear to be out of their minds to be arguing over servants, and he suddenly started to laugh. Meredith looked at him with surprise, but as he continued to laugh, her mouth grew thin with disapproval.

Silverton threw up his hands in a gesture of mock surrender. “Miss Burnley, I suggest we cease this discussion before we fall into an unseemly brawl. Surely we can come to some kind of arrangement that will satisfy both my concerns for your safety and the demands of your pocketbook.”

He leveled his most compelling smile at her, the one that never failed to render young women totally compliant.

“You know Lady Stanton will be most alarmed by this day's events. If not for your own sake, then think of her feelings at the thought of her granddaughter left so unprotected.”

She continued to frown at him, obviously immune to either his smile or his reasoning.

“Meredith,” Annabel interjected in a hesitant voice.

Meredith pulled her gaze reluctantly away from Silverton to look at her sister.

“I must confess that I would feel better with a proper footman at the door. It is, perhaps, not fair to ask Agatha or John to be so responsible for our safety,” Annabel finished softly.

Meredith thawed immediately. She cast a guilty look at Silverton, blushing in that enchanting manner he was beginning to find insidiously captivating. Biting her lip, she paused for only a moment before responding.

“Annabel is right, of course,” she said, smiling apologetically at him. “Please don't think I'm not grateful for all you have done for us. We are already so obliged to you and Lady Stanton for all your many kindnesses.”

“There is no obligation, Miss Burnley.”

He didn't want her to feel indebted to him, Silverton realized with a jolt. He wanted her to be so taken with him that she would do whatever it was he wanted her to do. That thought finally alarmed him. He could feel himself sliding into very dangerous territory.

“I feel certain we can come to a satisfactory arrangement,” he continued, making a point of smiling at Annabel. “Let me speak to Lady Stanton about what I feel is necessary to safeguard you and your sister.”

“Thank you, my lord. Whatever you think is necessary.” Meredith reached for his cup to pour out more tea. He gently waved her off.

“No more for me, I thank you. Robert and I have imposed on you long enough,” he said as he rose to take his leave.

His cousin reluctantly stood up from the sofa, staring wistfully at Annabel for a moment before moving to stand by Silverton. Robert was about to make his bow to Meredith when he smacked himself on the forehead.

“I completely forgot what I wished to say to you,” he exclaimed. “Miss Burnley, Miss Annabel, the purpose of my visit this morning was to invite you to accompany me and my sister, Sophia, to Green Park. I have told her all about you, and she is most eager to meet you. We were on our way here to extend the invitation when Agatha came racing up the street to fetch help. That's why we were able to respond to your summons so quickly.”

Meredith cast a speculative glance at Robert, and then to her sister, who was clapping her hands in pleasure at the unexpected invitation.

“Oh yes,” cried Annabel, her eyes sparkling with joy at the idea of finally getting out of the house. She was practically bouncing up and down in her seat with excitement. “May we, Meredith? I'm sure we'll be perfectly safe with Robert and his sister.”

Meredith hesitated. Silverton could tell she didn't want to ruin Annabel's fun but was reluctant to expose her sister to any unnecessary risk. The words were out of Silverton's mouth before he had a chance to think.

“Miss Burnley, I will be happy to escort you and your sister to the park with Robert and Sophia, if that will ease your mind.”

The worried frown on her face disappeared, replaced by a grateful smile.

“If you wouldn't find it too irksome, my lord, we should be pleased to see you.” She turned to Robert. “And delighted to meet your sister.”

Robert and Annabel grinned at each other. Just like silly puppies, thought Silverton with a trace of irritation. Why he had agreed to be part of what would surely be a tedious family outing was beyond his understanding.

Oh well, he thought with resignation, at least he could spend some time with Annabel. That would make Aunt Georgina happy.

But as he watched his cousin chatting eagerly with Annabel and her beautiful sister, he chided himself for being a fool. He knew exactly what he was doing and why, and it had everything to do with a certain obstinate, countrified spinster whom he couldn't seem to shake out of his mind.

Meredith stole a glance at Lord Silverton as he pointed out to Annabel the small herd of milk cows clustered by the picturesque dairy. Her sister clung lightly to his arm, and his head bent gracefully as he made some, no doubt, charming remark that caused her sister to giggle. They made a very handsome couple, she realized with an unexpected stab of jealousy.

Appalled by the wayward direction of her thoughts, Meredith tried to think of something more pleasant. Unfortunately, dark images flooded her consciousness all too frequently these days—the result, she was sure, of the nightmarish encounter with Uncle Isaac.

She also found herself jumping at the slightest sound, and looking over her shoulder whenever they left the safety of their small house on Hill Street. Meredith knew that it was ridiculous to be so nervous. She had given her overactive imagination any number of scoldings, but with little positive effect. Only when Annabel was safely married could she afford to let down her guard.

“Meredith! Do come see these sweet cows. The milkmaids are just about to bring them in, and Lord Silverton says we can even have a fresh cup of milk.”

“Yes, dear. We're coming,” Meredith called to her sister.

“I say, Miss Burnley, your sister seems to be having a bang-up time today, doesn't she?”

Robert gazed eagerly at Annabel while offering his arm to Meredith. As they walked over to join the rest of their party, he dropped his voice to a whisper, turning his head slightly away from his sister, Sophia.

“No ill effects from the other day, I hope? Shocking incident! Truly shocking to treat a lady so cruelly!”

“I thank you for your kindness, Mr. Stanton,” Meredith answered him in a low voice. “Annabel and I are both quite well.”

“Robert! Whatever can you be muttering about? Don't you know how rude it is to whisper?”

Sophia frowned at her brother in mock anger, but her expressive hazel eyes gleamed with mischief.

“Oh, hang it, Sophie,” Robert grumbled. “You don't have to know every little thing that goes on in the world, do you? What a busybody you are.”

“Dear brother, you know for a fact that I do need to know everything about absolutely everyone. And if you don't want to tell me what you are whispering about now, then I shall winkle it out of you later when we are alone. You know that you can never keep anything secret from me.”

Robert muttered something uncomplimentary about sisters under his breath, and both Sophia and Meredith burst into laughter.

Sophia Stanton was as friendly as her older brother, and her lively manners had immediately put Meredith and Annabel at ease. A slender girl of medium height, Sophia had an abundance of curly auburn hair, and almond-shaped eyes set under delicate brows. Her face was fine-boned and elegant, and the artist in Meredith fancied that she looked like an angel in a Botticelli painting.

Unfortunately, she also had poor eyesight and usually wore a pair of thin, gold spectacles. That had surprised Meredith, as she had never seen a woman so young wearing spectacles. But Sophia seemed to be completely unaware of her looks, and her lack of vanity was a quality that made her even more attractive. She was just the kind of girl Meredith wished to be friends with Annabel.

As their small group caught up with the others, Annabel dropped Lord Silverton's arm and skipped over to join Meredith.

“Is this not the dearest little park that you could ever have imagined? I never dreamed there would be a real farm in the middle of the city. Please, Meredith, can we go to the dairy to see the maids milk the cows?”

“Darling, we can do whatever you wish.”

Annabel whirled away to join Robert and Sophia, and the three young people marched up the gravel path to the small barnyard and dairy situated in the middle of the park.

Silverton smiled at Meredith and offered her his arm.

“Shall we accompany the children on their rustic adventure, Miss Burnley?”

She hesitantly placed her hand on his sleeve, unable to ignore the acceleration of her own heartbeat as she felt the hard strength of him through the luxurious material of his finely tailored coat.

Meredith had never known a man like the Marquess of Silverton. He was so handsome and so elegant that just looking at him made her feel bedazzled. As they followed along behind the others, her eyes involuntarily dropped down along the length of his body. She couldn't help but notice the long, powerful legs tightly sheathed in breeches and top boots, corded with hard muscles that he must have developed from hours spent in the saddle.

Meredith yanked her gaze back to the gravel path, mortified by the inappropriate and unladylike thoughts that seemed to invade her mind whenever she was with him. And even, she was sorry to say, when she was not.

Meredith sighed, finally acknowledging to herself that she was completely fascinated by him. Her new feelings both troubled and excited her.

Never once in her nearly twenty-five years had she experienced even a schoolgirl infatuation for any man. Not one of her former suitors—not that Lord Silverton could be considered a suitor—had ever evoked any feeling in her other than mild affection or, more rarely, respect.

She had always been frustrated by this, and wondered if she lacked some vital component most other women seemed to have. One after another her friends in the country had married, and all had seemed content. Only she remained a spinster, and during the past few years loneliness had grown inside her like a bitter weed.

Meredith ached to know, just once, what it was like to feel genuine passion.

Now it appeared that her wish had finally come true, and she couldn't think of a more inappropriate target for her unruly affections than the elegant and worldly Marquess of Silverton. She devoutly prayed that she would be able, at least in his presence, to preserve a calm demeanor so that neither he nor anyone else would ever know how foolish she had become.

“Your sister seems to have remarkable recuperative powers.” Silverton studied Annabel closely as she chatted gaily with her cousins. “It seems impossible she could have been so ill only a short time ago.”

“I assure you, my lord,” she exclaimed, startled by the implications of his comments, “Annabel was very ill only a few short weeks ago. Indeed, I have no explanation except to say that the change of scenery and her reunion with her grandmother must have spurred her recovery.”

“Forgive me, Miss Burnley. It was not my intention to criticize you or cast doubt on your sister's behavior. I am sure she was as ill as you say she was. It does seem strange, however, that her health should improve as a result of moving from the country, which is surely a more healthful environment, to the dirty air of London.”

A teasing smile lifted the corners of his well-shaped mouth.

“I suspect that you would agree with me, Miss Burnley. You do not seem as fond of the city as your sister does.”

“I hate it!” Meredith blurted out and then grew warm with embarrassment when he started to laugh.

“That is to say,” she added hastily, “I have not yet grown used to the noise and the crowding. You must understand that Annabel and I led very quiet lives at Swallow Hill. I am sure, in time, I will come to enjoy London as much as my sister apparently does.”

“Do not apologize, Miss Burnley. I find London to be a vastly entertaining and stimulating city, but any reasonable person will find it occasionally taxing to the senses.”

“If you say so, my lord,” she replied politely. Meredith found it difficult to imagine that someone like Lord Silverton could ever be content to live a peaceful country existence.

They lapsed into silence while they strolled over to the dairy.

“Miss Burnley,” Lord Silverton began, but then paused. She was surprised to see him frown.

“Yes, my lord?” She wondered what made him look so serious.

“I have no wish to offend, but I hoped I could prevail on you to explain the exact nature of your sister's illness.”

She gazed at him, unsettled and puzzled by his persistent questions regarding Annabel's state of health. Why would he be interested in something like that?

Some of her bewilderment must have shown on her face, because he briefly pressed the hand that clasped his arm.

“I assure you, my curiosity is neither idle nor vulgar. I wish to understand why your uncle is so adamant that Annabel be treated with such extreme measures.”

Meredith found she had to resist the urge to tell him everything. But she was uncertain that she should expose Annabel's intimate history to anyone other than Lady Stanton.

He waited patiently, not seeming the least bit troubled by her reluctance to speak.

As Meredith pondered how to respond, she realized that his assistance and protection required her to answer most any question he might care to ask. More than that, in the short time she had known him, she had already grown to trust him. Like most men of the ton Lord Silverton probably led a life devoted to the pursuit of masculine pleasure, but he had stood beside her as a friend when she most needed one.

Meredith lifted her face to the warm afternoon sun. She closed her eyes as her mind drifted back to the events of three years ago.

“After my stepmother died—she succumbed to a fever seven years ago this spring—my father and sister became inseparable. They were much alike, and enjoyed spending hours together in the woods on our estate. My father was a devoted bird-watcher and he liked to take Annabel with him, especially in the spring when the birds were nesting.”

She glanced nervously at him, her stomach beginning to twist as the memories came flooding back. Silverton listened calmly, with a detachment that she somehow found reassuring.

“Three years ago this month they were out for a morning ramble, not far from the house but deep enough into the woods that they could not be seen or easily found. I was in my sitting room, going over the menu for the day with our housekeeper. . .”

Her voice faded as the terrible images of that day cascaded through her mind.

“Yes?” he gently prompted.

“It was a warm day and the windows facing the woods were open. I heard a shot and then a horrible scream. It took me a few seconds to realize the cry was Annabel's. She continued to scream for several minutes, the sound unlike anything I have ever heard in my life, and I hope never to hear anything like it again.”

She shifted her gaze to her sister and her companions as they disappeared into the artfully pretty dairy covered in tumbling rose vines.

“The sound of Annabel's screams allowed us to find them. I ran from the house, as did our butler and footmen, and the men working in the stables. We found them in a small clearing. A poacher had shot my father in the chest. It was obvious he died instantly.”

She fought back the anguish, which was almost as powerful now as the day it had happened. Gritting her teeth, Meredith resumed speaking in a voice that was clipped and unfamiliar even to her own ears.

“By the grace of God, Annabel was unharmed. But she had thrown herself across my father's body and was covered in his blood. I tried to pull her from him, but she would not let go. It took three of us to disengage her. By the time she was carried to the house, she had stopped screaming. In fact, she said not another word and barely made a sound for a fortnight after that. I was afraid she would never speak again. She was only fourteen years old at the time.”

A cold heaviness invaded her limbs, as it always did when she recalled her father's death. Meredith felt paralyzed by a familiar darkness that threatened to overwhelm her, and drag her down to the hollow and dreary place deep within.

A pair of large, strong hands settled on her shoulders. Silverton turned her gently around and away from the gray emptiness. Meredith looked up into his eyes. They reflected bright sunlight and an emotion she didn't recognize.

In that moment he looked like summer to her—glorious, golden, and full of heat. Meredith drew in a shuddering breath. The chill that had seeped into her body faded away, replaced by a warmth that curled through her stomach, down her legs, and out through the soles of her feet.

“But she did speak again, and you have cared for her and nursed her back to health, have you not?”

Meredith nodded, unable to look away from the compelling eyes that drove away the icy despair. Silverton placed her hand back on his arm, gently urging her down the path to the dairy.

“What happened next?”

“Annabel fell into a profound melancholy for over two years. She rarely left her room and slept many hours each day. Our local physician counseled patience, that Annabel's natural youth and vigor would eventually reassert itself and that she would recover from the shock of our father's death. He was right. Last year, her spirits began to return, and I was so hopeful she would be herself again. But then—”

Meredith broke off, puzzled as always by Annabel's strange relapse a few months ago.

“But then?”

“But then my aunt and uncle came this winter, insisting that Annabel be treated by a new doctor. Her illness returned in force and has not abated until these last few weeks in London.”

She shook her head in frustration at her inability to understand her sister's condition.

“Do not misunderstand me, my lord. I am grateful beyond measure that Annabel has recovered. But I can never be quite easy. I cannot rid myself of the fear that she might become ill again. More than anything I wish to understand the nature of her malady, and what I can do to prevent a relapse.”

They strolled down the path, Silverton gazing thoughtfully into the enclosed meadow by the dairy.