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Authors: Claudy Conn

Tags: #gothic, #historical romance, #regency romance, #claudy conn, #netherby halls

After The Storm (7 page)

BOOK: After The Storm
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“Jenny,” her father said and then sighed. “His
lordship would like a word with you in private. So, if you please,
dear, I shall excuse myself, as I do, in fact, have some writing to
finish up.”

Jenny’s smile faltered. Alone, with the earl?
Private? Why would he wish to be private with her? Why had her
father agreed to allow him to be private with her? As her father
reached the door she called hesitatingly, “Papa?”

His eyes, she felt, were a caress. “It is quite all
right, dear. I am sure his lordship will not detain you any longer
than you wish.” He cast a glance at the earl and then left them to
one another.

Jenny turned wary eyes to the earl, who chuckled and
said, “I shan’t eat you, Miss Ashley, really.”

She regarded him from knit brows but released a
nervous chuckle. “No, I don’t suppose you could, with my father in
the house.”

He smiled teasingly. “In that case, shall we step
outside?”

She laughed out loud this time and inclined her head.
“What is this all about, my lord?”

“Would you, in fact, step out into the garden with
me? I think I need a breath of fresh air, myself.”

She gave him a studied glance. He did look a bit
harried. “Yes, yes, of course. The roses are lovely just now.” She
went to the double French doors, opened one, and turned toward him
to see if he followed.

He did in fact follow her up a stone path and then
fell in step beside her. The path was surrounded on both sides with
cut flower beds sporting blooming tulips and budding lilies. The
lawn was rich with the beginning of summer greenness, and the sun
stained a cloudless blue sky.

They walked slowly as Jenny waited patiently for the
earl to speak. When another moment went by in silence, Jenny asked
as nonchalantly as she could manage, “My lord, you wished private
speech with me?”

“Indeed, ah, here is the bench I hoped to find in
your rose garden,” he said, urging her to sit with an indication of
his hand. When she did not do so, he said, “Please, Miss Ashley,
will you not take a seat with me upon this very quaint bench?”

Jenny frowned but sat, turning to face him as he took
up the place beside her. She raised a puzzled expression to him,
and in spite of her unease, felt her body tingle as his blue eyes
looked into hers. Why did he fill her with excitement? He certainly
did do just that, and she could not deny this to herself.

“Miss Ashley, may I call you Jenny, in light of how
close we were at our first meeting?”

Jenny jumped to her feet; she felt a warmth in her
cheeks as she glared warningly at him. “My lord, I regret that I
will not be able to remain in your company if you insist on
pursuing a line of conversation that I find particularly
despicable.”

He laughed and as he could see that her cheeks were
as red as the blooms at her back, wished to put her at ease. He put
out his hand, catching her wrist and gently coaxing her back onto
her seat. “Forgive me, Miss Ashley. Do be seated again, and I shall
try and refrain from speaking of anything you might find
despicable
.”

She relented but sat straight up and gazed away from
him. Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see him grow suddenly
serious as he said, “Ah, child, please forgive me, but do let us
dispense with the formalities. I should infinitely prefer to call
you Jenny, if you would allow it.”

“Very well, my lord.”
What is wrong with you
,
a voice in her head asked. Why was she sitting here with him,
allowing him such liberties? Why was the blood in her veins
bubbling with heat? Why did she want to lean in closer to him? This
was madness.

“Your name suits you,” he said quietly.

She felt as though he were stalling and uncertain of
himself. Oddly enough, this suddenly lent him sympathy, and when
she realized this, she once again chastised herself. She shouldn’t
be alone with such a man; he was all too charming. Yet, if she was
honest with herself, she did, in fact, find his company more than
stimulating. She was a bit taken aback by it all.

As he didn’t make any further attempt to speak, she
arched a look at him and encouraged him further. “Your purpose, my
lord, in seeking me out?” Even as she asked the question, something
in the back of her mind began to nudge her to open her eyes,
warning something catastrophic was about to occur.

Somewhere deep in the pit of her stomach, wings took
flight. She felt a stirring in her heart that was at variance with
what she told herself she should feel. What was happening to her?
Why did he make her feel like this? She felt breathless as she
waited for him to respond.

“My purpose, yes, I should get to the point, I know
but …” said the earl with a rueful smile. “I think first I had
better start by informing you a little of my circumstances.”

“But—why?” Jenny’s hands fluttered with the surprise
she felt—or was it anticipation? What was happening here? Oh, but
that inner being knew just what was happening, and that inner voice
was a mischievous she-devil urging her on. She heard that saucy
woman in her head say,
Y
ou know, Jenny, you know why
he
is
here.

“After I have explained my situation, I think you
will have that answer,” he said, and his blue eyes held a hint of
anxiousness.

“Very well, proceed,” she said, once again feeling a
touch of sympathy for him. For all his sophistication, he appeared
actually nervous.

“Bear with me, child,” he said on a frown and sighed
before continuing. “If I may, I will start with my father’s death.
It took place seven years ago. I inherited the estate, the title,
and several properties, all maintained by a trust. I was given but
a small competence. During that time, I overspent, first on myself,
then when I followed Wellington into battle with the Frogs, before
Waterloo. There were supplies the men needed on the spot. Blankets,
rations …” He shook his head. “I first spent my income from
the trust to get those supplies, and then I borrowed against future
earnings from that trust to continue to get my men what they
needed.” He shook his head. “But, never mind that—I was extravagant
and find myself, now, in an unenviable position.” He took her
hands. “Had the bulk of the fortune been allowed to come to me now,
or even when I turn thirty, I could set things to rights, but, my
father worked his will with this entail, and it requires that I
marry a suitable woman by my twenty-ninth birthday if I am to
inherit all that is rightfully mine. In one month, I will be
twenty-nine.”

“Oh, but that is I think quite unfair,” Jenny said on
a frown and then eyed him wonderingly. “I did not know you
served—were you then at Waterloo?”

“Yes but not at Richmond’s ball that evening. I was
with a friend, another officer working reconnaissance.” He frowned
as the memories of that night flooded back.

She stroked his fingers before she knew what she was
doing and said, “Oh, my lord …” She frowned and sat up again
to say quietly, “You needn’t go into such detail. I knew some of
this story from Lavvy, you see. In fact, we thought you were here
to make an offer for her and solve your problem.” Sudden dawning
made her lean towards him again as she exclaimed on a hushed note,
“Oh, my lord, I am sorry—
did she refuse you
?” She shook her
head. “But that, I think, may serve you in the end, as I don’t
believe you and Lavvy would suit.” She bit her lip, thinking
perhaps she had said too much.

When she saw his lordship’s eyes dance with
amusement, she felt her cheeks get hot once more.

“I am afraid you are under a misapprehension,
Jenny
. I have not
asked Miss Digby to be my wife, nor do I
intend to, for I most certainly agree with you—she and I would not
suit!”

Jenny felt a strange sensation course through her
body, and a disproportionate sense of relief swept through her. She
was relieved to find he had not offered for Lavvy. Was that horrid
of her? What was wrong with her? She withdrew her hands from his.
“I gather then that there is
no one
for whom you have a
decided preference or attachment to, my lord?” she asked
tentatively, gazing at him fleetingly before studying her hands,
which were folded in her lap.

“No. Frankly, the young ladies who have been
presented to me this past year have either bored me to distraction
with giggles and or silence, or they have been—well never mind that
now. I have not fallen in love, and apparently will not be allowed
to do so in my own good time. My sister has tried to find me a
suitable bride but has not met with success. However, I think
that I have
found just the right woman.”

Oddly enough, this announcement caused Jenny to
experience an explosion of sensation in her stomach. Anticipation
filled her simultaneously with excitement and dread. Why should she
care if the earl married, she asked herself silently and crossly.
Yet, her voice faltered when she spoke. “Oh … you have someone
in mind then?”

The earl’s fingers took her chin, and he made a point
of staring intently into her eyes.

Something happened in that exquisitely uncomfortable
moment. Everything around her faded into gray. Time suspended
itself without permission, and she became breathless as she waited
for him to speak.

“Jenny, my dear Jenny, I would be honored, and very
happy, if you would consent to be my wife.”

She was ever honest, and a part of her had tried to
tell her this was coming, and still she gasped as one hand went to
her heart. Her eyes blinked, and without thinking she moved away
from him on the bench.

Her free hand went to her burning cheek, but she
looked directly at him, even as her mind was consumed with a
collision of warring and unexpected thoughts.

He has asked you to be his wife
, she told
herself,
not because he loves you, but
because he needs
you …?And why should you care if he doesn’t love you? Idiot,
you are an idiot.

How different his proposal was from her Johnny’s.
This brazen, dashing rake had offered her his name, but not his
love, and why this should goad her and fluster her into a bevy of
emotions she could not fathom.

Reason was something that had always guided Jenny,
and thus, she decided to very reasonably regard the situation from
his point of view
.

Inexplicably he had decided to choose her for wife.
Why not Lavina, who said she would not have minded a ‘marriage of
convenience’? No answer.

She had to admit that he certainly had been honest
with her and had recounted the circumstances of his offer, which
she applauded, as she prized honesty. She must not be angry with
him or with such a proposal. He was doing only what he must.

She looked into his blue eyes and said, “I cannot
accept your very flattering offer. I want you to understand, my
lord,
that it is not you
, though I do not think I would suit
you, yet that is not my reason. I cannot marry anyone—not
anyone—because I have nothing to give of myself. My heart has gone
into the grave.”

“I have not asked for your heart, Jenny, only your
hand,” the earl said gently.

“How can you propose such a horrid thing? You offer
no love. You ask for none. What manner of life do you extend to me,
my lord? What to yourself?”

“A good one, Jenny, a very good manner of life. It is
not unusual for people such as we to form a marriage of
convenience. You say you cannot love again. I accept that. As my
bride, you will be spared from the Season and the trial that season
will put you through. You will be spared hopeful young bucks trying
to court you, who will want your heart, who will lose theirs to
you. I know you are not the sort that will weather hurting those
young men.” He brought up her hands and, emboldened when she did
not pull them away, kissed them before continuing. “As my bride,
you will enjoy being a countess, presiding over your own household.
I ask you to marry me, knowing full well that you say you can never
love again, and I do not ask you to do so.”

She was surprised at herself. She was surprised that
his kiss on her fingers had made her ‘feel’ more, so much more than
she should. She thought of Johnny, and guilt reared its ugly
tentacles and wrapped themselves around her until she could only
wring her hands. “My dear sir, you wish to make me your wife,
knowing all this?”

“I do,” he said firmly.

“But, I cannot, my lord, do such a thing to you,”
Jenny said on a sad, final note.

“Is there nothing I can say to change your decision,
Jenny? You know you needn’t fear me. I would never harm you or
ill-treat you.”

“Again, I can’t find it in me to agree to this …
cold-blooded scheme,” she said.

The Earl of Danfield stood to his more than six feet,
and Jenny gazed up at his bronzed, handsome face. He bowed over her
hand, turned abruptly, and began to walk away.

A voice said in her mind,
He is leaving, and you
will never see him again. He is leaving—is that what you want? He
is leaving, and he is the one person who has made you feel
alive—what are you going to do? Don’t let him go. You know you
don’t want him to go.

Jenny watched his broad back, and her eyes overflowed
with tears. “My lord!” she cried out. She found she could not stop
herself. What was she doing? She only knew, in that moment, that
she couldn’t let him leave. Something inside her couldn’t watch him
go and be forever out of her life.

He turned around immediately and took long, hard
strides back to her. He went down on one knee. “Jenny, listen to
me. It is not what you would have—
I know,
and I understand.
But is it true that you can never love again?”

“Yes, it is true,” Jenny answered and fleetingly
wondered why her answer felt like a lie.

BOOK: After The Storm
12.74Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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