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Authors: At the Earls Command

BOOK: Sally James
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Mrs Rhydd sighed. 'Not so far. I once had hopes, and I believe Adam did too, but they were both so young, and there was some stupid tiff, and she married a man old enough to be her father.'

'A fortunate escape,' Kate murmured, aware of Adam listening to his mother, a frown darkening his countenance.

As the meal ended Kate readily assented to her aunt's suggestion that she retire to bed at once. Adam held the door open for the ladies to pass from the room. Kate, casting a glance up at him through her long silky eyelashes, caught a sardonic gleam in his eyes as he looked down on her. She shivered. He made her feel very uncomfortable, afraid almost, and Kate Byford was not used to feeling afraid of anyone.

As she undressed she tried to analyse her feelings towards him. He was infuriating, arrogant, and thoroughly objectionable. Yet when he had looked at her with that teasing expression as he led her into the dining room she had begun to feel once more the strange longing she had experienced when he had so reprehensibly kissed her. Surely it didn't mean she was falling in love with him!

She had very little notion of what falling in love entailed. She had once, several years ago when hiding from her aunt behind the churchyard wall, overheard the vicar's wife talking to a young, recently married village girl, and encouraging her to look forward to the time when her new husband would moderate his demands. 'Men seem to enjoy it, I know, but until he tires of it, my dear, you just have to endure all that nastiness,' Mrs Keen had said.

Kate had not understood at the time, but the words had remained with her. As she grew older and talked to Diana about these mysteries Kate had concluded that such demands as husbands might make on their wives might be pleasurable for the wives as well. Diana, giggling and blushing, but adamantly refusing to elaborate, had confirmed her conclusion, but Kate still had few specific details of what kind of pleasure it might entail.

Adam, she decided, as she climbed into the large old fashioned four poster bed, was dangerous and unpredictable, and she would do her best to keep out of his way. Sleepily, as she drifted towards oblivion, she felt in her imagination his strong arms around her, hands insistent on her back, and warm, dominating lips on hers. Then she was asleep, and knew no more until a maid came in the next morning bearing a steaming can of hot water.

'Good morning, Miss. Would you like me to bring you a tray of chocolate and bread and butter?'

About to refuse this suggestion indignantly, Kate paused. She regarded having breakfast in bed as a thorough waste of time, and besides, bread and butter held no attraction for her. She much preferred slices of cold ham, or buttered eggs, for despite her slender form Kate had a healthy appetite.

'Who eats in the dining room?' she asked cautiously. If she ventured downstairs to the breakfast room she might find Adam Rhydd there, and meeting him alone was the last thing she wanted to do.

'The young master, and if any of his friends stay they usually eat downstairs,' the maid said cheerfully. 'Mostly the ladies take trays in bed.'

It was as Kate had suspected. His mother and her aunt would breakfast daintily in their own rooms, and Kate would be at the mercy of the abominable Adam Rhydd. She reluctantly decided to remain where she was for the time being. She wouldn't stay in bed, though.

By the time the maid returned Kate had washed and dressed in a simple sprig muslin, which she discovered had been ironed after her valise had been unpacked. This attention could not disguise the amateur workmanship, but Kate had never before cared for how she dressed and neither she nor Aunt Sophie professed to any skill with needles. Today however, when she would no doubt once more be summoned to the bedside of her ancient but still formidable grandfather, she wished fleetingly that she had a more presentable gown.

She directed the maid to place the tray on a small table near the window. While she nibbled at the thin slices of bread and butter Kate gazed out over the gardens towards the mews and houses beyond them, and wondered who lived in the houses round about.

There were few signs of life apart from an occasional gardener or groom going about his work. A maidservant was flirting with one of the grooms, hidden from people in the mews by a small outbuilding, but clearly visible from Kate's window. She lifted her face for a kiss, then as he tried to pull her closer she danced away with a toss of her head and vanished, a huge wicker shopping basket over her arm, and the groom plodded back into the stables. The maid, Kate thought, clearly enjoyed his attentions.

This reflection made her think of Adam Rhydd. She had been too exhausted by the unaccustomed travelling and too horrified and distracted at the realization that he was the man of her encounter earlier in the day to wonder a great deal about those words they had overheard, and which clearly referred to her. What had he said? Some scheme which he had called ridiculous, which involved her, and which he thought insupportable. What possible scheme could there be which would require his agreement? she asked herself, frowning.

Perhaps her grandfather wanted Adam to make her an allowance when he himself was dead? It might be as Aunt Sophie had predicted, he was undergoing a deathbed repentance. But why should Adam be so vehemently opposed? Surely the Earl's fortune was big enough to sustain a small allowance to her, and she could manage on very little.

It rankled, even at the time when she hadn't known who he was, to be called a vapid schoolroom miss. That he'd abused her before meeting her - as he'd thought - made the insult even worse. She had left the schoolroom, and she would show him, she vowed, that she wasn't the vapid ninny he'd obviously expected. But why had he been so dismissive? It was a puzzle she couldn't resolve.

Adam Rhydd was heir to the title, and her grandfather's fortune, which she knew to be enormous, but apart from the fact he had been in the army for a number of years that was all she knew of him. Perhaps, she thought suddenly, her grandfather, who had appeared to approve of her last night, planned to leave her some money outright instead of just an allowance, and Adam Rhydd was objecting to losing some of his expected inheritance?

Kate constantly railed against their genteel poverty, but she hoped she was not truly mercenary. Apart from a small income from her father's capital, invested in the funds, and Aunt Sophie's equally small income from what her mother had left her, which paid for the rent of their tiny cottage and a few luxuries such as a pianoforte and books, she and her aunt grew as much of their own food as possible, made their own clothes, and almost never entertained such friends as they had. Miss Byford had taught Kate all her life, and there had never been money for dancing or painting tutors. There could not be until she was successful with the novels she'd determined to write. A small legacy from her grandfather would be very welcome. Surely Adam Rhydd, who had been dressed most elegantly just for an evening at home, so could not be short of money, would not miss a small portion which might come to her?

There could be no other explanation. Kate dreamt happily of how she would spend the money, allocating some for the new books she longed to possess, some for a subscription to a second circulating library, a rather large portion towards new clothes for herself and her aunt, and even, she dared hope, enough for a pony and trap. She doubted whether there would be sufficient for her to buy and keep a riding pony, so she would have to continue borrowing the one belonging to Thomas Keen which she exercised for him while he was away at Cambridge.

Lost in these reflections she was startled by a sharp, imperious rap on the door.

'Come in,' she called, startled. Until now such maids as she encountered had tapped gently on doors rather than thundering demands for admittance. This was a command, not a polite request.

It was Mrs Greenlow.

'His lordship desires your presence at once,' she announced curtly. 'Good, I see you are already dressed. Follow me, if you please.'

Too bewildered to ask questions Kate did as she was told and was ushered into her grandfather's bedroom once more. This morning the curtains were wide open, and the only other person in the room was a bent, elderly man dressed in the plain, neat clothes of a valet.

The Earl of Malvern was propped on his pillows once again, a thick shawl draped about his pitifully thin shoulders, but he looked a better colour and his eyes were bright. The fire still roared in the grate and made the room airless and far too hot, but Kate guessed with a pang of pity that his old bones and fleshless body were especially vulnerable to cold.

'Sit here beside me,' he ordered, his voice thin and quavering but still capable of exercising natural command.

Kate sat in the chair indicated and unthinkingly took his thin bent hand in her own. 'How are you this morning, Grandfather?' she asked softly. 'You look better than you did last night.'

'Morning's best time,' her grandfather replied slowly. 'Get tired quickly. Won't be here much longer. Glad to have seen you. Tell me about your mother.'

'What do you want to know?' Kate asked, astonished, glancing at the valet who was quietly tidying the room.

'Was she happy? Don't pay any attention to Wilson, he's tight as a clam. Did that whippersnapper make her happy?’

Realizing that he was referring to her father as a whippersnapper Kate suppressed a slight smile. 'I cannot speak for when my father was alive,' she said slowly, 'since he died before I was a year old. But Mama always spoke so lovingly of him, and after he died she lost the will to live. Aunt Sophie says they were the most loving couple she had ever known. She could tell you a great deal more than I can, sir.'

'Sister, biassed. How did your mother die?'

'She was always frail. Aunt Sophie says she was never ill before Papa died, but I remember her mainly as an invalid, keeping to her bed most days. She died when I was four, and everyone said it was of a broken heart. It was much later before I realized what they meant, I thought at the time that somehow her heart had actually broken in two.'

'Tell me all you can remember, or what people have told you about her life after she married,' he ordered.

Kate did her best to comply, recalling half forgotten memories from her childhood and things her aunt had told her in more recent years. Slowly, gradually, her grandfather slipped lower on the pillows and closed his eyes. He did not, however, as Kate suspected, fall asleep, for whenever she paused he moved his hand or opened his eyes, and bade her continue.

She was still talking gently when without warning the bedroom door opened and Adam Rhydd entered. He halted abruptly as he saw Kate, who turned startled eyes towards him.

'Good morning, sir,' he said moving forwards to stand on the far side of the bed. 'I trust you are not tiring yourself unduly.'

'Soon have all the time I want to sleep,' the Earl replied with a breathy laugh. ‘Making up lost time. Kate's a good lass.'

Adam's eyes narrowed and Kate read contempt in them as he glanced at her.

'Nonetheless,' he began, but the old man waved him to silence.

'Adam, I am determined,' he said in a stronger voice, and tried to raise himself off the pillows. With an exclamation of concern Adam leant forward to help him sit more upright.

'Take care, sir, you must not agitate yourself,' he said urgently.

'Then do as I ask, Adam,' the old man pleaded, and Kate was both astonished and embarrassed to see tears being squeezed from between his closed lids.

'It is unreasonable,' Adam protested. 'Especially now.'

The Earl opened his eyes and stared up at the younger man, the tears still falling although he seemed completely unaware of them.

'We've argued too long. It can make little difference to you, after all. And it would let me die happy. I know I'm asking you to put right my mistakes, but surely it would not be too great a sacrifice for you.'

'I prefer to make my own decisions, sir.'

'It would be suitable. And there's no one else. No one suitable, that is. There never has been. You always preferred t'other sort. Give me your promise, my boy.'

After this long and passionately delivered speech he fell back onto the pillows, deathly pale, and Wilson, who had been hovering anxiously beside Kate, spoke for the first time.

'Please, Miss, if I might come there? I think his lordship should have a dose of his cordial.'

Hastily Kate rose from the chair and Wilson, quiet and competent, measured out a spoonful of a thick red liquid. With Adam helping by holding up the Earl, Wilson guided the spoon between his bloodless lips and persuaded him to swallow the medicine. His breathing became less shallow, his colour gradually returned, and after an agonizing few minutes during which Kate fully expected him to expire at any moment, he once more opened his eyes.

Wordlessly he begged Adam, lifting a feeble hand towards him, the emaciated fingers curled like talons. With a quick frown the younger man sighed and nodded.

'Very well, sir, I will do as you ask.'

'Wilson, the Bible.'

Wilson produced a huge Bible from a chest near the window, and brought it across to the bed.

'Swear!' the Earl commanded. 'Swear on the Bible.'

With only a slight sigh Adam took the Bible in his hands. He glanced across at Kate, wide eyed, and his own expression became grim.

'You will do as I ask when I am dead?' the Earl whispered.

'I will do as you command,' Adam replied slowly. 'I swear on my honour to carry out your wishes in every respect.'

The Earl breathed a deep sigh of contentment and closed his eyes. 'I must sleep,' he said, his voice scarcely audible. 'Thank you, Adam, I can die at peace now.'

'Let us hope not for a great while,' Adam replied, and bent swiftly to kiss the old man's brow.

The Earl glanced up at him. 'Get Kate some suitable clothes. Take her about. Let her enjoy herself while she can.'

'Of course, sir,' he replied reassuringly, and the Earl's eyes closed, his breathing slowed, and he slept.

 

Chapter Four

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