The Irish Duke (39 page)

“Of course you will. It won’t be long before you can swim from one side of the lake to the other. Before summer is over, we’ll be swimming with the otters.”

“Oh, James, is that really possible?” She was so engrossed in their conversation about the otters that she lifted her leg and forgot to sink.

“Sooner than you realize. You just swam at least a yard.”

In her surprise and excitement she grabbed him and clung on to him as she almost dragged them both beneath the water. Then she laughed with the pure pleasure of her achievement. “Let me do it again. Don’t help me—just let me sink.”

She walked about five feet away from him, then took a deep breath and stroked out toward him. He caught her in his arms and they laughed together. “I’m so clever!”

“You are very brave,” he told her to bolster her confidence.

“Clever and brave!” she crowed.

“A lethal combination.” He put his hands on her bottom and pulled her toward him. “I quite like messing about in water.”

She cupped her palm and splashed him until he removed his possessive hands to wipe the water from his eyes. Then laughing, she swam away from him. She did get water in her mouth and up her nose, but her fear was gone as she realized now that slipping underwater was no calamity.

The pair played, laughed, and messed about for another hour until the heat went out of the afternoon. When Louisa emerged from the lake she was covered in gooseflesh.

“I’m cold,” she said through chattering teeth.

James picked up one of the towels and began to dry her. He rubbed her arms and back and moved down to her legs. “Take your wet things off and put on your dress.” He held up the towel and gallantly averted his eyes to give her a smidgen of privacy. When her gown was in place, he slipped on his riding breeches. He rolled up her wet undergarments in the damp towel.

When he saw that she was still shivering, he wrapped the dry towel about her. He whistled for the horses and saddled them, but decided to take Louisa up before him for the ride home.

She pulled the towel about her shoulders and cuddled up against her husband. His body heat seeped into her, making her feel warm and also protected from the cool breeze.

They left the horses at the stable with a groom and ran to the house.

He followed her upstairs and took the towel from her shoulders. “Let me dry your hair.”

“I can do that.” He was still shirtless and, because she was determined to avoid further intimacy, she escaped into her boudoir.

James donned a shirt and dry breeches, then opened the adjoining door between their bedchambers. He saw that she was wearing a robe and had wrapped a towel about her head. “I have an idea. Why don’t I light us a peat fire, and we can have our dinner up here where we will be warm and cozy?”

Lu hesitated, but the lure of a fire was extremely tempting.
The only reason I learned to swim is because I trusted him. James kept his promise. If I join him in the master bedroom, can I trust him not to violate our agreement?
She decided to be bold and take a chance. “Will you teach me how to light a peat fire?”

She knelt at the hearth and James handed her a piece of newspaper. She scrunched it up and put it in the grate. He pointed to a box. “Make a pyramid with the applewood twigs.” He brought over an oil lamp and handed her a taper.

Louisa touched the lit taper to the twigs, and the scent of apples filled the air as they ignited. James pointed to the brass peat bucket, and she quickly piled the pieces of turf around the lighted wood. Then she sat back on her heels and held her breath.

When the pretty blue peat smoke began to spiral up the chimney, she gave him a triumphant smile. She pulled the towel from her hair to wipe her hands and a profusion of damp dark tendrils fell about her shoulders.

They dined in front of the fire and talked about the day’s adventures, which were all new and fascinating to Louisa. Because she took pleasure in observing the wildlife on the estate, he promised to show her the place where a sett of badgers made their burrow in the woods.

After dinner they played chess. “Lady Lu, I do believe you are cheating!”

“All my brothers and sisters cheat when we play games.”

“I warrant you are shrewd enough to win without stooping to deceit.”

She was flattered at his confidence and agreed to play again without subterfuge. She lost, of course, and playfully tipped the board, scattering the chess pieces. Louisa spied a bowl of chestnuts and took a long-handled copper pan from the wall. They knelt by the hearth to roast the chestnuts and then stretched out on the rug to enjoy them.

James peeled them and fed them to Louisa.

They talked and laughed until Lu began to yawn. He watched her in silent enjoyment. Her hair had dried in a hundred tiny ringlets that lured him to reach out and play among the curls. The tendrils spiraled around his fingers, clinging to him of their own volition, and he marveled at their silky, seductive texture. When he moved closer to take her in his arms, he saw that she had fallen asleep.

T
he early morning sun awakened Louisa because her drapes had never been closed.
Any minute, Abercorn will come in and do his usual. He will throw off my covers and drag me out of bed.
A mischievous thought began to bubble.
Turnabout is fair play!

She arose, put on her robe, and slipped quietly into the adjoining room. She tiptoed to the bed and yanked off his covers. She gasped when she saw that James was stark naked.

He opened his eyes and began to laugh at the look of shock on her face. Then he gave her back her own words: “Since you are the one who pulled off my covers, you are the villain in this game. So suffer away, Lady Bloody Abercorn.”

She turned her back and hurried to the window. “Make yourself decent.” A movement in the grass caught her attention. “There are foxes playing on the lawn!”

He came up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. “They are often here at sunrise.” He grinned when he felt her stiffen. “See what delights of nature you’re missing when you shun this bedroom?”

“I prefer to avoid your
natural delights
. You are indecent!”

“I must confess that from time to time, I
am
indecent.” He bent his head and whispered in her ear,
“Indacent.”
He moved back from the window. “The carpenters will be hammering again today, so I thought I’d take you to meet all our tenants.”

Lu twirled around. “Oh, that would be . . .” Her eyes widened at the sight of his naked body. “Lovely,” she finished.

“Why, thank you,” he teased, anticipating her pretty blush.

I’ll be damned if I’ll avert my eyes.
“What will you do when I am all blushed out?”

He grinned. “Resort to even more
indacent
antics, I suppose.”

 

“You don’t think this riding habit is too fancy for visiting your tenants, do you?”

His appreciative glance swept over her. “You are the lady of the manor. They won’t expect to see you in sackcloth and ashes. You can’t go wrong with green in Ireland.”

As the newly wedded pair visited each tenant farm, the scene was the same. The children, especially the boys, eagerly gathered about James. Louisa was impressed that he knew most of their names. It was brought home to her how much Abercorn liked children, and vice versa.

While James spoke with the men, conversing knowledgeably about the livestock and the crops, the women greeted their lord’s new lady and wished her happiness. They offered her homemade small beer and whatever they were baking. She inspected their herb gardens and asked them to send some cuttings up to the manor, so she could plant her own. Louisa praised their homemaking skills and complimented their children. She was impressed to learn that every morning, for a few hours, the children gathered to learn how to read and write.

After they had visited the tenant farms and the home farm, James wanted to show her one of his pet projects. “If you are up to a ten-mile ride, there’s something I’d like to show you. Not all my tenants are farmers.”

“That sounds intriguing. I’d love to go.”

As a large stone building came into view, James explained, “It was an old gristmill. Last year I had the whole thing rebuilt into a spinning mill for flax. The Herdman brothers did all the work. I bought the machinery and now the three of them run the mill for me.”

Abercorn introduced his wife to three strapping young men—James, John, and George Herdman. George, the youngest, gave Lady Louisa a tour of the mill and explained the different processing stages that took place before the flax was spun onto large bobbins. She noticed that at least half the workers were female.

When they were finished he escorted her to the office, where James, the eldest brother, and her husband were talking business.

“The three of us have a burning ambition to own this mill, Lord Abercorn. But it will be years before we can meet your asking price.”

“I have a suggestion,” Abercorn said thoughtfully. “Why don’t I lease it to you? You’ve done a damned good job here. The business is thriving and all your employees are happy. You could pay me a yearly rent and keep the flax profits.”

The Herdman brothers conferred and agreed. They worked out the rent, then moved on to discuss the length of the lease.

“How about a hundred years?” James suggested. “We can put in a clause to negotiate extending it further, every few years.”

The Herdmans readily agreed. A hundred-year lease was more than generous.

“Tomorrow I’ll ride into Omagh and have my attorney draw up the papers.”

As they rode home Louisa questioned his motives. “Why did you offer such a long lease at such a low rent? Perhaps in a few short years the Herdmans might be able to buy it, and you could recoup the money you have laid out.”

“The land is priceless. I never sell when I can lease. The property is our children’s and grandchildren’s legacy.”

Louisa fell silent.
James makes no secret of the fact that he wants children. It’s only natural when he has so much wealth and property in three different countries.
Her heart constricted with anxiety.
Whatever am I going to do?

A mile from Barons Court, Louisa was distracted from her worrying thoughts. She pointed to the sky. “Look at that flock of birds. Are they crows?”

“Ravens. I can tell by their wedge-shaped tails and shaggy throats. They make their rookery close by. Every evening, about an hour before sunset, they gather and seem to revel in the pure joy of flying. Ravens are very social birds that form a close- knit community. They mate for life and make excellent parents. They are the only birds that can do somersaults when they fly.”

James and Louisa stopped to watch as the ravens swooped, dived, and somersaulted gracefully through the air, making intricate patterns in the twilit sky yet never colliding. They cawed to each other with gusto.

Lu laughed. “They are singing and dancing!”

“For the pure pleasure of it.”
Just like you,
James’s eyes told her.

When they entered Barons Court, James cupped his ear. “Listen.”

Louisa stood quietly for a full minute. “I don’t hear anything.”

“Exactly!” he said with a grin. “No hammering. The carpenters must be finished. Shall we go and inspect their handiwork?”

Side by side they walked through the house to a room beyond the great hall. Louisa saw that the carpenters had built a spacious stage at one end of the long chamber. Her heart began to sing and a lump came into her throat. “James, you built me my own theater! I thank you with all my heart. You are always so thoughtful and generous.”

“Lu, it gives me pleasure to make you happy.”

She removed her riding boots and ran up the steps onto the stage. Then in her stocking feet she twirled about gracefully and ended with an Irish jig. “Thank you!”

 

That night as Louisa lay abed in her boudoir, her anxiety returned. Then, gradually, it became overshadowed by feelings of guilt.
James is so generous to me, yet I give him nothing in return. He has let go of all his anger toward me, and we have become friends. But I doggedly cling to the barrier I have erected between us.
It began to dawn on her that she was no longer at war with him. She was fighting herself. Selfishness was against her nature and each day she was finding it harder to justify her position. The emotional distance between them was rapidly melting away. The physical distance had dissolved in the lake when he’d taught her to swim. But the
intimate
void had not been diminished by one iota. None of it was his fault, and this added to her anguish.

As usually happened when Louisa was in torment, her recurring nightmare took control the moment she fell into a deep sleep:
She was back in Woburn’s garden among the lupins. She heard her mother’s cry of alarm and saw her covered in blood. Suddenly the dream changed. Louisa looked down at her white nightgown and saw that it was drenched crimson with her own blood. No! No! Help me . . . please help me! Then she realized it was not her mother’s screams she could hear, but her own.

Louisa awoke in a panic. She felt herself being swept up in powerful arms, and it took her a moment to realize that the person who was carrying her was James. “What are you doing?” she cried.

“You’ve had a nightmare, Lu. I don’t want you to be alone.” He carried her into the master chamber and put her into his bed. Then he climbed in beside her and gathered her close. He brushed her hair back from her temples with a gentle hand. “Tell me about your nightmare, sweetheart; it will lessen your fear.”

I cannot tell you about the blood. I don’t dare hint at the subject of miscarriage. It will dredge it all up again, and stir your black anger.
“I . . . I don’t remember. I only know that something frightened me. But it’s gone now. I can go back to my own bed.”