Shades of the Past (10 page)

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Authors: Kathleen Kirkwood

BOOK: Shades of the Past
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He watched her graceful movements as she worked with her camera and wondered what about the woman affected him so. 

He preferred to believe the feelings she aroused in him were purely physical, that and no more.  Yet, he recognized what first began as a craving was fast growing into an acute and sizable hunger, a hunger filled with need. 

That need pulled at both heart and soul, reminding him of the emptiness there.

He continued to observe the young widow and his nephew.  She had an easy way with the lad, which pleased him.  Geoffrey's interest shifted toward the terrace.  As he left her side and headed in that direction, she bent to close one of her equipment chests.

Adrian traced her delicate features with his eyes—the sweep of her brow and slim nose, her cheek bones high and flushed with color just now, her mouth full and ripe. 

She rose, standing to a medium height.  Her slender but shapely build made her appear taller at this distance than he knew she truly was.  Adrian allowed his gaze to drift over her high round breasts, then move lower to a waist he could easily span with his hands, and then to her softly rounded hips.

When her hair first tumbled from place, he'd found himself transfixed.  Now, he felt equally so as she started toward the terrace, moving with a natural grace, completely unaffected, her hair flowing like a river of honey over her shoulder. 

Adrian found he could not pull his gaze from her lovely form as an unwelcome surge of desire built in his loins.

"What is your pleasure, Adrian?"

Vanessa Wynters lifted liquid eyes to his as she progressed toward him, crossing the green.

"Pleasure?" He mumbled, feeling the heat in his veins rise.  With a start, Adrian straightened in his chair, his gaze skipping to Majel as he realized it was she who had spoken.  He stared at her blankly.  "What about pleasure?"

"Sugar or cream, brother?  How do you prefer your tea?"  Majel asked, her tone slightly impatient. 

Cissy, however, smiled wide, her gaze sweeping to Vanessa Wynters and back again.  An unmistakable beam sparkled in her eyes.

"Black," he said irritably to his one sister and strove to ignore the other.

In typical fashion, Cissy refused to be dismissed and slipped into the chair beside him. 

"Adrian, you must be sure to pose for Vanessa."  Her smile remained fixed in place.

Adrian leveled her his most forbearing look then next grimaced at his first swallow of tea.  He handed the cup back to Majel for two lumps of sugar.

"Have you forgotten the mourning album?" Cissy pressed.  "As I told you, it's a keepsake, in memory of Auntie.  Really, Adrian, you must let Vanessa take your portrait for it."  She reached over and patted the back of his hand with teasing reassurance.  "Do not fear.  I'm sure you will find the experience most pleasant." 

Cissy's grin disappeared behind her cup as she lifted it and sipped its contents.

Adrian gave her a noncommittal grunt.  Feeling a weight press on the toe of his boot, he looked down to find the puppy had plopped his furry little rump there as he fixed his attention on Cissy.  Excitedly, the pup watched as she lifted a sandwich from a nearby tray. 

Spying the anxious fellow, Cissy laughed and broke off a piece which was filled with anchovies.  "There you are, Crumpet." 

She proffered the treat and laughed again as the puppy sprang forward to gobble it down, then plopped on Adrian's boot once more. 

"Perhaps I should call you Anchovy."  She broke off another piece and held it out.

Cissy's husband appeared behind her, then leaned slightly forward, over her shoulder, to watch the pup's antics.

"Darling, it's silly to name a dog after food.  "A fine fellow like him needs a more sensible name.  Rutherford, for example." 

Cissy wrinkled her nose.  "I think a better name would be 'Henry,' Henry."  She sent him a mischievous smile.

Geoffrey mounted the steps, greeting Adrian and his parents with a smile as he approached the table and scanned the fare.  Passing over the spreads and delicate sandwiches, he eyed the scones and custard cakes.

Majel paused in her conversation with Lawrence and her husband and arched a thin brow, her eyes half-lidded.  "Shouldn't you be taking tea with your sisters in the nursery, dear?" 

Geoffrey's hand froze, poised over a scone, his smile falling from his lips.  He looked to his parents as if to ask whether he should leave. 

Adrian started to censure Majel, realizing she bedeviled the boy only to annoy his mother.  Cissy, he knew, had successfully thwarted Majel's manipulations earlier regarding the division of their aunt's jewels.  Predictably, Majel now wished to draw a little blood.  But before he or anyone else could open their mouths, Mrs. Wynters came to stand behind Geoffrey and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"Geoffrey is my assistant and utterly indispensable to me.  Does his presence pose a difficulty?" 

Majel's eyes narrowed over her new prey.  "You surprise me, Mrs. Wynters.  I would expect you to know in well-bred circles it is inappropriate for children to attend the adults' tea."

The widow's own eyes constricted. 

"And which children do you mean?  I see only a fine young man," she returned evenly, completely unruffled and budging not one inch.

"As do I," Adrian added quickly before Majel unsheathed her claws fully. 

He rose from his chair, silently castigating himself for not having done so immediately, when Mrs. Wynters first stepped onto the terrace. 

Her cool handling of his overbearing sister impressed him no end, as did the very fact that she stood her ground where his nephew, Geoffrey, was concerned.  Majel made an art of dissecting others when it suited or amused her.  It was an art which had often discomposed his former wives, sending Clairissa into hysterics, Olivia into rages, all to the delight of Majel.  But neither had dared challenge Majel as did this young woman.

Adrian glanced to Cissy, who wore a look of gratefulness, and Henry, wearing one of admiration, for Vanessa Wynters.  Vanessa. 

"I, for one, am delighted you could join us, Geoffrey."  Adrian started to step toward his nephew, then realized the puppy still sat upon his toe.  "Indeed, I believe you've grown a foot since last I saw you," he continued. 

His praise elicited a smile from the lad. 

"I see you have an eye for the sweets.  Here, you must try a Fat Rascal."  He lifted the nearby dish of soft currant biscuits.  "They're my own favorite and intolerably good."

"Thank you, Uncle."  Geoffrey claimed the top biscuit, his spirits returning.

Adrian glanced over his head to Vanessa and saw that she too wore a smile.  A smile that lit a small flame in the recesses of his heart.

As Geoffrey bit into the biscuit it broke, half of it falling to the stone terrace.  The puppy instantly sprang forward, abandoning Adrian’s toe to gulp down the morsel.  Licking its mouth, the pup looked pleadingly to Geoffrey for more.

"Rascal!  We can call him Rascal."  Geoffrey grinned at his parents for his cleverness.

"He's definitely that!"  His father chuckled.  "Rascal it is then, but in reference to a scamp, not a biscuit."

Lawrence moved to Vanessa's side.  Adrian did not miss the glow in his eyes as he settled his gaze on her. 

"Do pour Vanessa a cup of tea, sister dear."  Lawrence directed his comment past his shoulder to Majel.  "We mustn't let her think you are wholly without manners." 

Adrian lifted a brow at his brother's use of Vanessa's first name.  Were the two on more intimate terms than he'd realized?

Lawrence relieved Majel of the steaming cup of tea and, in turn, offered it to Vanessa.  As her fingers closed on the saucer, he deliberately brushed her fingertips with his own.  Startled, Vanessa drew back a step, jarring the cup on the saucer and spilling the tea.

"How clumsy of me," she blurted apologetically, a stain of pink growing in her cheeks. 

Cissy quickly came to her aid with a napkin and helped her blot the wetness from her bodice and dress. 

"There, no harm done," Cissy cheered then shot a hard look at Lawrence.

Lawrence appeared entirely uncontrite to Adrian's eyes.  Indeed, he seemed to relish the sight of Vanessa wiping at the irregular blotch over her breast.  Adrian considered tossing his brother down the steps.

Vanessa suddenly became conscious of Lawrence's interest as well.  She turned aside a moment, then, seeming to remember something, she fumbled in her skirt pocket and withdrew a folded, linen handkerchief.

"I—I almost forgot."  She turned back to Lawrence.  "I had this cleaned for you but it found its way back to my room by mistake.  Thank you for its use." 

Vanessa held forth the handkerchief to Lawrence, the initials "
L.M."
clearly visible on the corner.  Adrian felt his stomach twist.

As Lawrence reached to accept the linen, he covered Vanessa's hands with his own.  "No thanks are necessary, fair lady."

Adrian bit down on his annoyance with Lawrence.  Or was it jealousy that stabbed at his gut?  Regardless, his brother's manners and forwardness were deplorable.

Vanessa repossessed herself of her hands and stepped back several steps. 

"If you will excuse me, I best take the picture before the light begins to dim.  I do hope you are all ready to be photographed.  A portrait of the Marrable clan gathered for tea will make a nice frontispiece for the book on Sherringham, I should think.  Geoffrey, if you would like to be included in the picture, then stay.  You might sit on the top step there with Rascal."

Geoffrey nodded he would remain, his mouth filled with biscuit.

Adrian's gaze followed Vanessa as she descended the steps and started across the green.  There was a stiffness in her spine and a briskness to her step that caused a most captivating sway to her bustled hips and skirts.

"She's an absolute vision isn't she?" Lawrence commented, moving to his side. 

Adrian glanced to his brother and saw that his gaze was hotly devouring Vanessa.

"I can tell you one thing, brother Adrian.  She fits in a man's arms just right." 

Lawrence tossed Adrian a knowing look, his lips lifting in a smug smile.  The smile remained as he transferred his gaze back to Vanessa, all too obviously undressing her with his eyes. 

Adrian restrained himself from putting his fist across Lawrence's jaw.

"I'm going to ride out," he growled.  "Tell Cook not to hold dinner for me." 

Adrian stalked down the steps and headed for the stables.

»«

Vanessa watched as Lord Marrable strode from the terrace, a storm of emotion darkening his face.  Cissy called after him to no avail.  Lawrence, in turn, sent Vanessa a mystified look, shrugging as if to convey his brother's actions were wholly inexplicable.

 Perplexed, Vanessa thought back over the moments that had transpired on the terrace but could think of nothing to have provoked Lord Marrable. 

Thinking it best to proceed with the portrait, she asked the others to gather around the table.  Lawrence preferred to stand, while Cissy, Majel, and their husbands remained seated.  When Timmons appeared with a fresh tray of sandwiches she asked him to join the grouping.  Geoffrey sat on the top step, center front of the table, but the playful puppy refused to settle down and join him. 

Vanessa made a final check of the image on the viewing screen.  Satisfied, she called to everyone to hold their pose then worked quickly to remove the screen, insert the plate holder containing the negative, and pull the slide.

As she worked, Adrian Marrable continued to embroil her thoughts.  Did his moods always veer so sharply, so dramatically?  Would she ever fathom the man?

"Look at the camera and smile!" she called with forced brightness.

Just as Vanessa released the shutter, the puppy erupted in a fit of yapping and the cat let loose a strident yowl.

 

Vanessa checked her watch by the dim glow of the ruby lamp.  She would allow the plate four minutes more in the metol, a total of twelve, which would hopefully produce the degree of contrast she desired on the glass negative.

Vanessa leaned her hip against the work table as she waited, watching the seconds tick off. 

Her thoughts wandered back to the previous hours.  She'd left the others directly after dinner and came to the Photo House to develop the exposure she'd made late that afternoon during tea.  She found herself as anxious as Geoffrey to see the results of their efforts.  Regrettably, she could not allow the lad to assist her in the developing process.  It required she handle a host of toxic chemicals and work in total darkness most of the time.

In any event, it was far too late for him to assist her, the hour being well on its way to midnight.  She did promise he could be present when she printed the negative tomorrow.  Though she'd still employ many of the same chemicals, the printing would be carried out by gaslight, minimizing the risk of an accident.  Then Geoffrey could witness photography's "magic" when the finished picture appeared on the sensitized paper.

Vanessa focused on her watch again.  Two minutes remained.

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