The Portrait (18 page)

Finding herself riding through a small coppice, she slowed
her pace to concentrate on the various twists and turns the
path took, oblivious that she was being observed, almost crying out in alarm when the earl drew the chestnut across her
path.

"I give you good day, my lady." He grinned mischievously,
bowing low in the saddle.

"Edward, you startled me," she cried reprovingly. "I had
thought you gone to The Folly."

"I took a slight detour," he said, a note of amusement still
lingering in his voice. "Dare I suggest that you were following
me?"

"And why should I be following you?"

"I thought you might be inclined to tell me." He smiled,
drawing his mount alongside the mare, and indicated that they
should proceed along the path together.

"I merely decided to ride out," she replied haughtily. "'Tis
only your conceit that suggests it to be otherwise."

Sinclair's eyes sparkled. "Won't you allow me my conceit,
Jen? I'm so rarely allowed to give it rein."

"Then you may give it rein, dear Ned" She chuckled, unable to resist the amusement in his eyes. "Yes, I admit I sought
you out"

"'Tis so gratifying when one is found to be right." He
grinned, feigning hauteur.

"Your vanity does you no credit," she said, laughing and
urging the mare to a canter as they emerged from the trees and
The Folly came into sight.

The Folly was a marble summerhouse built on the lines of
a Grecian temple. It stood in the midst of abundant foliage and
was set on a small hill at the head of a steep flight of stone
steps. Dismounting and tethering the horses, they started up
the steps, the earl taking Jennifer's elbow to assist her ascent.

"The views are quite remarkable when we reach the top,"
he assured her. "Carlton's grandsire ordered it built for his
wife, who was wont to spend her days reading there"

"I should have liked to meet him," said Jenny thoughtfully.
"He must have loved her very much to order such a commission merely so that she could read in comfort"

"I doubt it was for the reading alone that he built it-more,
I would say, to pay her homage. He was reputed to have doted
on her."

"And your grandsire, Ned, did he dote on his wife, do you
think?"

"Hardly." He grinned. "If my father was to be believed, she
was a veritable harridan. She came over from France when
her father fell foul of La Pompadour and Louis ordered him
banished."

"I would have liked to meet her too" Jenny chuckled. "And
your grandsire. Indeed, I would be very interested to see the
portrait of him that you had reframed."

They had achieved the top of the steps and entered the summerhouse, but he stopped abruptly just within its door. "Why
this sudden interest in portraits?" he asked, maintaining his
hold on her arm and turning her about to face him. "What is it
that fascinates you so about them?"

"I don't know what you mean," she replied, refusing to meet
his gaze. "I merely show an interest in your family."

"Oh, aye, my family is so very interesting," he mocked.
"Was it a family portrait you showed such interest in last
night?"

She did look at him then, her blue eyes turning defiant. "I
don't know, Ned. That is for you to tell me. It was you who
asked for it in your delirium and seemed to have such need of
it. How am Ito know whose likeness it is?"

"I tell you, I have no portrait."

"Then, sir, you lie."

"You would call me a liar?"

"Most certainly, Edward. Indeed, I believe it to be of your
sweetheart, your paramour."

"And what sweetheart is this that you accuse me so readily
of? Just how likely am Ito have a paramour?"

"As likely as any other man!"

He looked at her pityingly. "And you would honestly have
me think you believe that?"

"Of course. What else am Ito think?"

He relinquished his hold on her arm, his features turning
harsh within the shadowed light of the summerhouse. "You,
my dear, can think whatever you wish. I will not feed your curiosity." Turning toward the door, he made to leave, but her
hastily spoken words halted him.

"Ned, I must know. Did you offer for me out of a sense of
honor? Did you feel obligated to offer marriage?"

She saw his shoulders stiffen, and his tone was cold when,
without turning, he answered, "If that is what you truly believe, you silly girl, then yes. If that explanation satisfies you,
and it is how you perceive it, yes."

"Edward Thurston, I .." she began, but he was gone, his
ears deaf to her words, and, sinking down onto the stone
bench, she gave vent to her feelings of despondency.

Hastening down the flight of steps, Sinclair had almost
achieved the pathway where the waiting horses were tethered
when his pace faltered, and, on impulse, he turned, placing his
foot on an upward course. But he knew that if he returned, his
resolve would be as nothing, and he would be lost. Turning
once more, he descended to the path and, mounting his horse,
urged it to a gallop, distancing himself from all temptation.

When Jennifer joined her hostess in her apartment later that
morning, Flora was much taken aback by her look of dejection. "Have you and Edward had a misunderstanding?" she
asked without hesitation.

"What makes you suppose such a thing?" replied Jenny
carelessly, as she stood uncertainly on the hearth, finding it
difficult to meet Flora's searching gaze.

"Because he's found it necessary to take himself off to Fly,
when I know for a fact he'd intended to return to London.
When I asked him why he was leaving so soon, he told me to
mind my own business, which is quite unlike him. Always most
polite is Edward"

"You might say we had words," said Jenny, feigning indifference. "I find him insufferable. His arrogance is beyond
comprehension."

Flora would not allow that to go unchallenged, her face coloring with indignation. "You must not speak of my dear Edward so!" she cried. "He is everything one could wish for in a
brother, and I will not have him maligned."

"I tell you, he is excessively unkind!" cried Jenny, equally hotly, "and now he has left and gone to Fly without so much
as a word to me"

"And what words would you have him say?"

"I don't know!" cried Jenny, stamping her foot with exasperation.

"I do" An enlightened Flora smiled. "Believe me. I do"

Jennifer stared mulishly at her hostess for a moment before
making good her exit and storming to her own apartment,
where she closed the door firmly behind her.

A feeling almost of desertion came over the earl as he walked
the lonely pathways of Fly Hall. The house and grounds had
never before appeared so empty, its portals so unwelcoming. I
must rid myself of this melancholy, he thought. I can't allow it
to overtake my life. I must stand firm in my resolve and become
more reconciled to my circumstance. It does no good to torment myself with impossibilities.

Caesar kept pace with him, occasionally pushing his nose
against his hand, but as he received no acknowledgment, he
merely continued to plod at his side.

As they neared the ornamental gardens, Sinclair spied Randall in the distance and raised his arm in salute. Seeing himself thus hailed, Randall came quickly toward his employer, a
grin splitting his weather-beaten countenance.

"How are you liking it at Fly?" asked the earl as his steward
came within earshot.

"Very well, my lord, very well indeed," replied Randall. "It's
much to my liking, if I may say so. Though I must admit there
appears quite a lot of work that has been left undone in your
absence, sir."

"Then I shall rely on you to set it to rights. You need not
fear expense. Whatever needs to be done, see to it. Take on
any staff you feel necessary, and I will expect a regular report
of your progress."

"If you have a moment now, my lord, there are some immediate issues I would raise with you"

"Then we will go to my office," replied Sinclair, "and
arrangements can be made."

Thus became the trend as the earl immersed himself in
matters of the estate. Having no desire for the present to return to London, he found some diversion for his thoughts, and
that generated a sense of purpose.

The London season was nearing its end, devoid of the presence of both the Earl of Sinclair and Lady Jennifer, and the
tabbies ceased to comment on their continued absence, more
noteworthy gossip replacing it within their ranks.

Returning to Fly one afternoon from a visit to one of his
farms, Sinclair was surprised to see Croft hurrying down the
laurel walk to meet him, his gnarled countenance wreathed in
smiles, his breath coming in gasps.

Smiling, the earl waited for the retainer's panting to subside, saying, "Whatever it is, there's no need to hurry."

"There's a young lady to see you, sir," said Croft, eventually calming enough to be audible. "Would not give her name
but said you would see her."

Quickening his step, Sinclair hastened toward the house.
He knew not who his caller might be. There were so few ladies
of his acquaintance who would call at Fly Hall unannounced,
and he had to admit to a deal of curiosity.

Entering the hall, he asked of his visitor's whereabouts from
an attending footman and, upon being informed that madam
was installed in the drawing room, crossed the hall with a
hasty step and flung wide the door. Its occupant-a small,
vivacious brunet dressed in widow's weeds-came quickly to
her feet, issuing a cry of delight.

"My dear Estelle!" he exclaimed with great surprise, smiling broadly and quickly crossing the room with hand outstretched.

But she ignored that hand and instead cast herself upon his
breast. "I despaired of ever seeing you again, Edward," she
cried, smiling up at him. "It seems so long since you left the
convent to return to England."

"It does indeed seem an eternity since my return," he agreed,
leading her to the chaise and seating her at his side.

She took his hand in a warm clasp and examined his features, saying, "I must admit, you look prodigiously well.
When last I saw you, you were so weak that I worried continually about you, but I see now there was no need"

"None at all. Behold, I am a new man," he replied, holding
wide his arm. "But tell me, how fare you? When did you return to England? Do you intend to stay?"

"I will answer one question at a time." She chuckled. "I do
extremely well. I've been returned to England but a week;
and, yes, I do believe I will stay."

"Then you will bear company with me," he answered enthusiastically. "I'm sorely in need of counsel other than my
own"

"I had hoped to see you married by this time."

"As you see, I am not," he answered curly, not wishing to
expand on the subject. Then, in an attempt to divert the conversation, he asked, "Do you open up the house in Edgemont
Square, or are you retiring to the country?"

"I'm afraid both houses are to be sold, and I must look for
a property to lease," she said quietly. "Dear James left me ill
provided for, and so many debts have accrued while we were
in Spain that I am left with no alternative. I believe myself to
be almost penniless."

"His family hasn't offered you aid?" he asked incredulously. "I can't believe they would see you out of a home"

"You know they never approved of our marriage, Edward,
and when I wrote from the convent in Portugal to inform them
of James' death, I heard very little from them. There were no offers of assistance. They didn't even want to know the details
of his demise. Indeed, the presumption is that our association
is now at an end."

Sinclair issued a sound of disgust. "Thank God James isn't
aware of their treatment of you. 'Tis as well you came to me.
As you know, he charged me with your protection before I left
the convent, and I am completely at your disposal. Whatever
arrangements need be made, you can safely leave to me. I will
ensure that all debts are cleared. You will have no need to sell
your properties."

"I cannot allow such generosity," she cried. "Your assistance with settling his estate is all I require."

"You must permit me to honor the promises I made to a
dying friend," he replied quietly. "Indeed, I will not have it
otherwise."

For a moment, with tears standing in her eyes, she studied
his countenance. "Dear Edward, I should have known you
would come to my aid as you have done so often in the past.
What would I do without you?" And, leaning forward, she
gently placed a kiss on his cheek.

"What nonsense is this?" He smiled. "Whatever aid I've
given to you and James is nothing compared to the support
you gave to me. Without it I never would have survived."
Taking her hand, he raised it to his lips.

"Now you must tell me why you've not married," said Estelle sympathetically. "I had hoped to find you most comfortably settled and on your way to setting up your nursery. If she
would not have you, then she is a fool."