Velvet Chains (Historical Romance) (26 page)

"There is yet another favor I would ask of you, sir. You and your sister have been so kind to me, would you think it unseemly if we were to be on a first-name basis? I would hope that you might call me Season. 'My lady' seems so stuffy and formal." In truth, when Lucas Carrington called her "my lady," it reminded her too much of The Raven.

Amusement laced his golden gaze. "Done, Season. Now I would ask a boon of you."

She smiled prettily, as if she knew what was on his mind. "Yes, Mr. Carrington?"

"I would deem it an honor if you would call me Lucas. Dare I hope that you will do that."

"Done, Lucas."

"What kind of books do you prefer to read, Season?"

"I find I have an insatiable appetite for almost any reading matter, although I admit to being a romantic at heart. Your library is quite extensive. It's much larger than the one at Chats worth."

"Do you still miss your home? I remember when we talked at the ball, you were homesick."

"I…so much has happened since then, Mr.— Lucas. I don't really know where my home is."

His brilliant eyes glinted. "I hope you will think of Rosemont as your home."

"It is a very lovely home. You live very graciously, Lucas, but I do not belong here. What will become of me?"

Lucas took her hand and led her over to the sofa. "You have but to tell me what your wish is, and I will try to fulfill it, Season. Should you wish to return to England, I will arrange it. Should you prefer to return to New York, I will immediately send word to Edmund that you are staying with me. I feel sure he would come to Rosemont as soon as he could get away."

Season shook her head. "Poor Edmund, I had almost forgotten about him."

Lucas took her hand. "If it is your wish, you are welcome to remain at Rosemont until you are stronger and can decide what you want to do."

"Why are you being so kind to me, Lucas?"

He was quiet for a moment, as if trying to decide how to answer her. "Perhaps I feel responsible for you. Let's say that I would like to make up to you for what a fellow countryman has caused you to suffer."

"I don't know how you can say that. I most certainly do not hold you responsible for what has happened to me. I hold no one to blame."

"Not even The Raven?"

"Him least of all."

Lucas' eyes narrowed. "You have every reason to hate that man, and yet I get the feeling you do not. You must be a very forgiving woman, Season."

"Hate is a very strong emotion. There are those who say love and hate are but a hair's-breadth apart. I think they may be right."

"I am not sure I understand you."

Season smiled and stood up. "I have taken up enough of your time. I thank you for the offer to stay at Rosemont. I believe I would like to remain here for a time. I don't really want to see anybody right now."

"Does that include my cousin, Edmund?"

"Especially Edmund. I don't expect you to understand, but I don't want to face him for a while."

"Some things do not have to be explained, Season. I will see that your wishes are honored ... if I can. Edmund can be very insistent at times."

"I will leave you in peace," she said, smiling. Somehow his kindness made her want to cry.

Lucas watched her leave, and then he sat down at his desk and began shuffling through the mounds of paperwork that needed his attention. After a while he pushed the papers aside, realizing he couldn't concentrate on them.

The Lady Season Chatsworth seemed to be weaving a spell about him. He envisioned her sad green eyes, and he wished he could make them light up with happiness. Would it be possible for him to make her smile? Lucas thought of his cousin, Edmund, and knew he would be coming to Rosemont as soon as he discovered where Lady Season was.

"Damn," he said, standing up and stalking out of the room. He had many things to attend to, and he couldn't afford to have a woman stand in the way of his plans.

As Season walked out onto the veranda and gazed into the distance, a feeling of peace descended on her. This was a lovely land, and there was excitement in the air here.

Perhaps in this new land she would be able to find herself. Perhaps she would be revived and reborn here in this Virginia.

19

As Season hooked the neck of her green gown, she wished she had something else to wear. She had worn her three gowns so often that they were all badly faded. She longed for her diamond and emerald necklace—it would at least brighten her appearance—but she knew she had left it in Maude's bedroom the night De Fores had come for her.

Sweeping her hair to the top of her head, Season secured her golden curls with two ivory combs. Standing back, she observed her image in the mirror, not at all pleased with her shabby appearance.

When Season entered the sitting room to join the Carringtons, she found Rebecca kneeling in front of her brother with her arms around his neck. When they saw Season, they both stood, and Rebecca ran to Season.

"You will never believe what has happened, Season. Robert has asked for my hand in marriage and my brother has given his consent!"

Season laughed delightedly and hugged the young girl. "Somehow I am not in the least surprised. I am so happy for you. Where is Robert? I would like to congratulate him. I believe he is getting a jewel for a wife."

"He had to leave for Philadelphia, but he promised to return to me very soon."

Lucas draped his arm about his sister's shoulders and hugged her to him. "I will be glad when Robert takes you of my hands, minx. I have little doubt you will lead poor old Robert a merry chase."

Rebecca laid her head against her brother's shoulder and smiled up at him. "You will miss me and you know it. Who but I would put up with you?"

"You are right," he said, kissing her cheek. "I shall miss you sorely even though you will be living only a short distance away."

Season felt warmed by the love brother and sister had for each other. She wondered, had her own brother lived, if he and she would have been as close as Lucas and Rebecca Carrington.

"Please come and sit beside me, Season," Rebecca said, steering her to the sofa. "Dinner will be ready in half an hour."

When Season was seated, she looked at Lucas, who was leaning against the mantel. His eyes rested on her, and something in their golden depths disturbed her. She was relieved when Rebecca drew her attention away from her brother.

"I do wish Robert could have stayed for dinner tonight. I hope he will not be away long," Rebecca stated.

"Robert will envy me for having the two most beautiful women in the Colonies to myself tonight," Lucas said, seating himself on a chair.

"Not the Colonies, Lucas. The United States of America." Rebecca corrected him.

Lucas shrugged his shoulders. "What's in a name, my dear sister?"

Rebecca turned to Season. "You see before you a house divided. "I am a staunch supporter of Congress and General Washington, while my brother leans more to the side of your King George. But our differences have not affected our relationship, Season, and I hope politics won't come between you and I."

Season laughed. "If you can suffer the presence of one of King George's subjects under your roof as well as you tolerate your brother's politics, I will be glad to be your friend."

Rebecca laughed delightedly. "I just knew we would be friends the moment I saw you."

Season looked at Lucas and found he was still watching her. "I am aware that Robert is a patriot, Lucas, and yet the two of you are friends. How can that be?"

Lucas looked deeply into Season's eyes. "My friendship with Robert spans many years. We try never to discuss our politics because we learned years ago that we didn't agree on the subject. You may have already learned that my sister has no sympathy for my convictions. She is a true patriot—she and I never discuss politics either."

"What a strange country. A Tory can live in harmony beside the Whig, and in your case under the same roof," Season observed. "I wonder if this could happen anywhere else in the world?"

"Our countrymen do not always get along, and there has been much bloodshed between the two parties, but you will have to remember, be we Tory or Whig, we are all Americans first. My brother thinks the English are the best hope for the future of our country, while I feel the opposite is true. I certainly do not mean to offend you; I simply do not think of you as English, but as my friend."

"Rebecca, you might be surprised to learn that our guest shares many of your own views about the Colonies. Only today I heard her voice opinions much like your own," Lucas said lazily. He smiled at Season.

"Is that true, Season?" the young girl asked.

"Don't misunderstand me. Like you, my first loyalty will always be to my country. I just happen to think the Colonies should have the freedom to govern themselves. I find this a new and exciting land. I sincerely believe America is headed for greatness."

Lucas said nothing, but his eyes seemed to soften as they rested on Season's face.

Rebecca stood up and clapped her hands together. "We think very much alike, Season. Now if we could only convert my brother to our side."

Season smiled at Lucas. "I think perhaps your brother will never allow a woman's opinion to sway him."

Lucas lowered his lashes. "I don't know, my lady. Perhaps you could." Before Season had time to reply, Lucas rose and extended his arms to both ladies. "Quinton just gave the signal that dinner is ready. Poor Robert, having to rush off to Philadelphia while I entertain a Tory and a Whig at my dinner table," he said in an amused voice.

The conversation seemed to flow at dinner. The surroundings were elegant and the food was well prepared. It was quite apparent to Season that the Carringtons were a very wealthy family.

Season learned that Rebecca's and Lucas' mother and father had died ten years ago from a yellow fever epidemic that had swept the valley where Rosemont was situated. At a very early age Lucas had taken over the running of the huge plantation, and he had obviously made it prosper.

During dinner, Season was often aware that Lucas was watching her, and she felt uncomfortable under his golden gaze. She remembered the first time she had met him; at that time she had experienced the same reaction to him. He was a very handsome man, and she did not doubt that he knew it. He had most probably been spoiled by the attention he received from eager young women. She was surprised that he had not already taken a wife, but she thought that perhaps he did have someone in mind to be mistress to Rosemont.

After dinner they adjourned to the sitting room. At first Lucas and Season listened while Rebecca played the spinet, but soon they joined in and raised their voices in song. As Lucas and Season sang an old Irish ballad, their voices blended sweetly. Season was a soprano, while Lucas' voice was deep and clear.

Green is the color of my true love's eyes.

Green are the hills where my sweet love lies.

Dark is the ship that will carry me away.

Blue will be the sky on our wedding day.

As the last haunting note of the ballad vibrated in the air, a lump rose in Season's throat. She found she couldn't look into Lucas' eyes because she knew he would be watching her closely. Some current flowed between them. She didn't know what it was, but she knew that Lucas was aware of it also. Whatever it was, it made her feel uneasy, for she couldn't put a name to the feeling.

So beautifully had Season's and Lucas' voices blended that Rebecca felt tears in her eyes. "That was so very lovely. It was as if the two of you were meant to sing together," Rebecca said, wiping her eyes. "Never have I heard anything sound so beautiful."

Lucas then did something that startled and troubled Season. He touched her face softly and tilted her chin up. "Were we meant to . . . sing together, my lady?"

"I have never sung with anyone before. I found it a pleasant…experience."

Lucas laughed and moved to the sofa. When he sat down, Rebecca seated herself beside him, leaning her head against his shoulder.

Once more Season could feel the love in this house and the closeness between brother and sister. Love was something she knew very little about. Her first experience with man-woman love had ended in heartbreak. Somewhere upon the sea, the
Andromeda
sailed with her dark master at the helm. Did he think of her? Did he miss her just a little? She doubted that he gave her more than a passing thought.

"I want to inform you ladies that I will be leaving first thing in the morning," Lucas said. "I am going to New York, Season. While there I will speak to Edmund about you and tell him it is your wish to remain at Rosemont for a time."

Season frowned, wishing Edmund did not have to be informed of her whereabouts. She had no desire to return to New York, nor did she want to think about getting married. She wanted to be given time to heal from her hurts.

"Season, have you a message you would like me to pass on to Edmund?" Lucas asked.

"N-no, as you are aware I hardly know Edmund. I would, however, like to ask a favor of you, if you won't find it too inconvenient."

"I am at your command. You have only to ask," Lucas said in a deep voice.

"I would like very much to remain here at Rosemont for a time, as you suggested I might."

"As I told you earlier, you are welcome to stay as long as you like," Lucas replied. "You will be glad for Season's company, won't you, minx?"

"Yes, please stay with me," Rebecca added. "I will love having you with me. You can help me plan my wedding. Lucas says I am to spare no expense on my trousseau, and I would welcome your advice."

"I can hardly say no to such a charming offer. I think it will be fun to help you with your wedding." Season lapsed into silence, remembering the time at Chatsworth when she had been forced to plan her own wedding to Lord Ransford.

"There is something else on your mind," Lucas observed.

Season stood up and leaned against the spinet. "Yes, would you mind?... I hardly know how to ask this because you may think it very forward of me."

"Nothing you could ask of me would be too forward, my lady," Lucas told her gallantly.

"Thank you," she said in a small voice. "My maid, Molly, is staying with the Tibbs, I know she will be half out of her mind with worry. Would it be possible for her to . . . would you mind if she came to Rosemont?"

Lucas rose to his feet and went to Season's side. "I will see to her travel arrangements personally," he answered. Taking her hand he raised it to his lips, and Season felt a tremor shake her body. She was bewildered. Why did she feel drawn to Lucas Carrington? What would happen to her if she became drawn to every handsome man she met? She remembered Molly once telling her about women who handed their favors out to every available man. Was she like that? She wouldn't allow herself to look at Lucas, fearing he would read her thoughts. She stared at his long lean fingers and wondered what it would feel like to be caressed by him.

Season swallowed deeply and freed her hand from his. "If you will excuse me, I will wish you a good-night and a safe journey."

Lucas watched Season rush from the room, knowing he was drawn to her. It was more than her beauty and kindness that touched his heart. Obviously she had been deeply affected by her capture, and he wanted to help her heal.

Rebecca came up beside her brother and looked into his face. "I just love Season, Lucas. Tonight I realized you like her too. Wouldn't it be wonderful if you and she—"

"Don't be a fool, Rebecca," Lucas broke in. "The Lady Season Chatsworth was not meant for a Virginia planter. She was born to grace a wealthy man's castle."

"Edmund is not wealthy, nor does he have a castle," she reminded him.

"She will never marry Edmund," Lucas whispered, a faraway look in his eyes.

The weeks passed quickly as Season and Rebecca became better acquainted. Season had never before had a close friend, and at first, it had been difficult for her to talk about herself to Rebecca. But Rebecca's sunny disposition and her kindness soon drew Season out.

Sometimes they would ride across the plantation and take a picnic lunch to eat beneath a tree. At others they would take long walks and talk about the nonsensical things that interest very young women. And, of course, the two of them spent hours with the dressmaker who was making Rebecca's trousseau.

At Rebecca's insistence, the dressmaker had also made Season several gowns and a riding habit. One of the gowns was a plain gray cotton with black lace at the hem of the skirt and the edges of the puffed sleeves. Another was a green satin with a lace overskirt, for evening wear. Season had insisted on paying for her own gowns. She had paid the seamstress with the gold piece The Raven had given her that day on the beach when he'd said he wanted to buy her thoughts.

Meanwhile Season was growing to love Rosemont. Rebecca had told her that Lucas' grandfather and grandmother had settled here, cleared the land, and built the house after moving to Virginia from England. Now, even though there was a war going on, Virginia seemed to thrive. Rosemont's fields were planted with cotton, tobacco, and corn; and each day Season could hear the field hands singing on their way to work. Rebecca had mentioned that a very able overseer looked after the plantation since Lucas was gone so much of the time.