A Shameful Secret (12 page)

“And do you always do what your mother expects?”

“Is that not a daughter’s duty?”

“Sometimes you owe a duty to yourself—and others.”

Hester understood his meaning. He was asking her if he meant nothing to her, if his needs were not as worthy as her mother’s. Every fibre of her being cried out to him, but she suppressed the need.

“For me, there is nothing but duty, sir.”

Hester watched Captain Crawford riding just to the right of the coach. It was a little stuffy inside, and she wished that she might have joined him on horseback for a while, but repressed the longing as she did all the other desires that rose up in her when looking at him. She was acutely aware that he was considering making her an offer, but her conscience would not allow her to accept without telling him the truth.

A sigh escaped her. She could not bear to see the light of love fade from his eyes or know that he despised her, as he must if she confessed.

“Is something troubling you?” Geraldine asked, looking at her anxiously. “You are not missing your friends in Bath?”

“How could I when I have you and my cousin?” Hester asked, banishing her doleful thoughts. “No, it is merely that Captain Crawford asked me if I would ride with him, and I was forced to refuse because I do not have the proper clothes.”

“Then we must remedy that,” Charlotte said at once. “I thought you had no wish to ride, Hester. Had I known that you enjoyed it, I should have ordered a habit made for you in Bath.”

“Hester may have one made by our seamstress,” Geraldine said. “She is coming to measure Mama and me for new evening gowns. She may make Hester something too.”

Hester could not refuse without seeming ungrateful, though she believed her cousin had already been more than generous. Her secret heart told her that she would relish the chance to ride again, with Captain Crawford if he should ask her.

“I am very fortunate to have such good friends,” she said. “I am not sure that I deserve your kindness.”

“What nonsense!” Charlotte declared with a frown. “You must know that you are the daughter I longed for and never had, Hester. If your mother would spare you to me, I would keep you with me forever.”

* * * *

Or until Hester made up her mind to marry, she substituted in her mind.

Charlotte had been disappointed when Hester refused Mr. Blackwater’s offer, but now she rather thought she understood her cousin’s reasons. It was becoming noticeable that the girl was very much aware of Captain Crawford and he of her. It would be an even better match in Charlotte’s opinion, for he was the heir to a large fortune and a prestigious title.

He preferred to be addressed by his military rank but was quite entitled to a string of titles if he chose to use them. His forbearance spoke volumes of the kind of man he was. Yes, he would make a very satisfactory husband for Hester, Charlotte decided. It was to be hoped that he could be brought to offer for her before this visit was over.

Indeed, if he seemed to hesitate, Charlotte might give him a few hints. She knew that Hester had insisted that she could never marry without confessing her secret, but perhaps a man like Captain Crawford might be able to accept what had happened.

It would be a shame if all her plans were to come to nothing, Charlotte thought ruefully. She had believed that it would be an easy matter to find her cousin a husband, and indeed, it would have been simple enough if it were not for Hester’s own honesty.

She could admire the principle of course, but surely, a small pretence would not be so very terrible in the circumstances. Hester need not actually lie to the man she married. She would not be the first to conceal something of the sort from her husband.

Charlotte regretted the need for subterfuge, but she had always been on Hester’s side. The girl’s white face and the dark shadows beneath her eyes when she was allowed home after the birth of her stillborn child had haunted Charlotte down the years. She had known that there was no chance of Mr. Weston relenting in his attitude towards his daughter, but after his death, she had waited her opportunity.

Hester must be brought to understand that her only chance of a life lay in marriage. Otherwise, she would simply fall into herself once more, becoming the dull, plain spinster her father had tried to make her.

Charlotte had never heard the details of what had caused Hester’s downfall from her own lips. She thought that if perhaps she could encourage the girl to talk about it, she might find a way to overcome her refusal to think of marriage.

* * * *

Hester was unaware of her cousin’s thoughts. She talked to Geraldine, laughing at the other girl’s excited chatter as she planned her coming dance, and if she wished that she could be as innocent and carefree as the young girl sitting next to her, she gave no hint of it. Nor did she allow herself to become gloomy. She was fortunate to have had this precious time, and she would not waste it in regret.

Lady Holbeach had arranged that Hester should have the room next to Geraldine so that the two girls could visit each other at will. As they were in and out of each other’s rooms all the time, it was an excellent arrangement. Now that they were in the Holbeach family’s home, the atmosphere was far more relaxed than in Bath. Hester was treated as one of the family, and she blossomed in the warmth of the genuine affection showered on her.

A seamstress was summoned the very next day. Madame Lefarge was a French émigré and had set up an establishment in a small town some five miles away. Hers was the flair for design and elegance, but she employed six girls in her rooms and was delighted to be given an order for two new ballgowns and a riding habit.

Hester’s habit was delivered within two days of her first fitting and that very morning Captain Crawford arrived to invite her to go riding with him.

“How did you know that I was having a habit made?”

“A little bird told me.” His eyes were full of mischief. “I have arranged for a suitable mount to be put at your disposal. You have only to order the groom to make Serendipity ready and you may ride at any time you wish.”

“Serendipity?” Hester gave a gurgle of laughter. “However did you think of such a name?”

“The mare has an air of content,” Paul explained, his mouth quirking at the corners. “But many of our horses have unusual names—She is called Pippa for short if you prefer. However, my father breeds only thoroughbreds, and the names are for the bloodlines register.”

“How interesting. Does your father race his horses?”

“Yes, sometimes. We both have an interest in racing. My own stable is at Newmarket, though it has been a little neglected of late. My father oversaw the running of it while I was in the army, but I need some new blood to bring it into a viable enterprise once more.”

“I should like to see your father’s stables while I am here, if I may?”

“I see no reason why you should not,” he replied. “Father is justly proud of them—and my mother invites you and Geraldine to lunch tomorrow if you would care to come. We are to have a more formal dinner next week, but this is intended as a little friendly gathering of the family.”

“Yes, of course I should like to come. I should like that very much.”

“Then I shall ride over to escort you both.”

The mare was a glossy chestnut and spirited. She tossed her head as she was led out of the stable, which made Hester look at Paul with a challenge in her eyes.

“I had expected a docile creature from such a name.”

“Ah, but you did not ask when she looked contented—nor could I tell you if you asked for it is quite unfit for a lady’s delicate ears. However, I will tell you that some months ago a beautiful foal was bred from her and Father’s best stallion.”

There was such wickedness in his eyes that Hester blushed for she could not fail to understand his meaning. That he should tease her in such a way was surprising for it meant that he considered that they had stepped beyond the bounds of friendship to a more intimate relationship. Indeed, as he helped her into the saddle, she sensed something different in his manner. There was suppressed passion in his eyes, and it both frightened and excited her. She knew that he was looking at her as a man looks at the woman he wants for his wife.

“We shall ride as far as the lake,” Paul told her. “You have not ridden for sometime. It would be foolish to do too much at first. You must tell me if you are uncomfortable, Hester.”

“I am sure I shall not be,” she said. It felt wonderful to be in the saddle again, and the mare had the sweetest mouth, responding to the lightest touch on the reins. “You have chosen well. Thank you for lending her to me, Captain Crawford.”

“Please call me Paul,” he said and, looking into his eyes, Hester’s heart missed a beat. “It shall be my reward for bringing the mare to you.”

“Very well, Paul. You have been generous and kind, and I am grateful.”

“It is not gratitude I want from you.”

His tone and his manner sent spirals of sensation winging down her spine, and her stomach clenched with answering need. She could not be mistaken. He had decided to court her in earnest. Hester knew that she must make her feelings clear at once, but the words would not come. He looked at her expectantly, but she could not answer, for she discovered that she wanted this wonderful rapport to go on. Instead, she gave the reins a little shake, urging her mare to a trot and then a canter.

She was aware of her companion keeping pace with her on his own horse, but did not glance his way. For a while, the sheer joy of riding was enough. She thrust her doubts and anxieties from her mind, sending him a smile that told of her delight.

* * * *

On the rise, Richard Mortimer sat his horse and watched the man and woman race each other, saw how well they matched each other. It was strange, but over the years, he had forgotten what Hester was really like. She had become a shadow on the fringes of his memory. Cast out from his home, forced to live by his wits and to do things that heartily sickened him when he remembered, he had forgotten that he had once been young and happy.

Now, seeing her riding that way with Crawford, he remembered. Hester had been riding when he first saw her, riding hell for leather, her long hair streaming out behind her in the wind and laughing joyously. He had wanted her from that moment on, but the next time they met, he had pretended that he knew nothing of her, asking his way though he knew it perfectly well.

On horseback, she was a warrior goddess, fearless and beautiful, but out walking, she was a young and innocent country girl, modest and rather shy at first. He was not sure what had driven him to pursue her as he had. She had been a delight, trusting and giving, responding to his passionate kisses with a warmth that stoked the fire inside him. Even so, he had been gentle with her—until that last time. He had cared for her. It came back to him now. He had never meant to harm her, perhaps he had even considered marrying her one day in the future, for there had seemed to be plenty of time that golden summer—but then his past misdeeds had returned to haunt him. Gambling debts and an affair with a girl who was no better than she ought to be. Annabel had been hot to bed with him, but when he had walked away from her, she had taken her revenge.

His father believed her claims of being forcefully seduced, though in truth she had been as much the seducer as he, pursuing him until she got her way, but she was a young lady, and his father believed her. He accused Richard of every crime under the sun and told him that he was being sent to the West Indies to stay with a distant relative. Angry at this summary dismissal, Richard had drunk too much wine before keeping his appointment with Hester. His senses inflamed by her sweet response to his kisses, he had been carried away on a tide of passion. Ignoring her pleas, he had taken her by force, and afterwards, seeing her weep, he had heaped scorn on her. He had taken revenge for Annabel’s betrayal, but on a sweet, lovely girl who had given him more happiness than he had ever known.

In his heart, Richard had wanted to beg her to forgive him, but what he had done was beyond forgiveness. Had he not been banished to the West Indies, he would have offered her marriage, but he’d known his father would not relent.

In the end, to his eternal damnation, he had walked away and left her to face the consequences. He had been tortured by guilt throughout the sea voyage, which had left him ill of a fever, but once in Jamaica, he had forgotten her.

Richard’s mind shied away from what he had witnessed on his relative’s plantation. The brutal behavior of the overseer towards the slaves had turned his stomach, and he had decided to leave to seek his own fortune, even though he knew he would forfeit the pittance his father was prepared to send him. He had travelled extensively in Europe, finding work where he could, scraping a living, sometimes down to his last coin, sometimes with money to burn in his pockets.

His return to England owed more to chance than his grandfather’s attempts to find him, for having been in France when his brother had been killed, he had also learned that his father was dead. The letter of reconciliation never reached him, though he had been given a copy of it by the family solicitor when he called at his chambers in London.