Surrender to the Earl (12 page)

He said nothing for a moment, and her smile died.

“Robert?”

“It is not always a thing I want,” he said, regret in his voice. “Not here. It was too easy to be swayed by it, to feel the power of my position. I thought the army beat that out of me, but apparently not enough.”

She leaned forward, “Oh, no, I did not mean it that way. You smoothed the way for my acceptance—that’s what I was talking about. Growing up as I did, my family helped to create my inner doubts. I felt confident in my own home, but that was it. And here, now, I need to emulate you, so don’t regret your belief in yourself.”

“I have confidence in you, Audrey. You’ll discover strengths in yourself you never knew existed. The army showed me that. Moving to a new village, a new home—they’re your own private battle to overcome.”

“A battle,” she mused. “So was this my first foray into enemy territory?”

“Or perhaps meeting and negotiating with possible allies.”

She laughed. A man approached the table to talk with Robert, and she listened politely, wondering what all these people saw. She knew what she
felt
when she was with him, his charm and confidence and humor. It was a dangerous combination, one that drew her more than she felt comfortable with.

She mustn’t start relying on him too much. He was taking Molly’s place temporarily—she had to remember that. But would she and Molly have been greeted so eagerly by all the villagers? No.

It was almost . . . fun to be the pretend-fiancée of an earl.

Chapter 12

B
y the time they returned to Rose Cottage late that afternoon, Audrey was anxious to see how Molly fared. Robert was waiting to help her from the carriage, and this time she didn’t think twice about leaning into his strong hands, resting her own on his wide shoulders. He swung her down before him, and her thighs and stomach brushed his. She gave a little gasp of shock, of embarrassment, but he didn’t let her go. Unless she pushed herself away, she couldn’t keep her breasts from brushing his chest.

“Robert,” she began, surprised to feel a shiver move through her.

“I’m your fiancé, remember,” he said in a low, rumbling voice. “We’ve just spent the day together in front of people, where I could look at you and not touch. How would I be expected to resist your delicate waist in my hands?”

“You are teasing me,” she whispered, biting her lip. “I have heard stories of men who try to seduce women.”

He let her go. “I don’t mean to tease you. I’m trying to help you. Bridegrooms are
supposed
to show desire for their fiancées.”

She nodded, but couldn’t speak, and their leave-taking was more strained than normal.
Bridegrooms are supposed to show desire for their fiancées,
she thought. But her first groom had misled her—every experience she’d had with a man had been false. And she’d gone along with Robert’s false engagement.

So why couldn’t she stay distant and unemotional?

Sighing, she went up to Molly’s room in the attics and found her dozing, Francis watching over her. He excused himself, his voice humble, and left the room.

Audrey was considering him when she heard Molly murmur in a hoarse voice, “He’s a nice young man. He doesn’t say much to me, but he has a comforting way about him.”

Audrey sat down on the edge of the bed, knowing her smile must be foolishly wide. “You sound better.”

“Then tell that to the rest of my body, for I feel like I’ve taken a beating. It’s a good thing you can’t see me.”

“Why? Have you been studying yourself in a mirror already?”

“No, but I saw Francis wince.”

Audrey chuckled, then couldn’t resist touching Molly’s forehead. “Hmm. I think you’re still a bit warm.”

“The doctor visited today, and he said that was normal, that it’ll be days before I’m up and about. Days! I told him I’d prove him wrong.”

“No, you won’t. I’ll see that you stay right here.”

“You won’t ‘see’ anything.”

“Oh, yes, I will. I have spies, you know.”

“I think only one spy. You have him quite dazzled, I believe.”

Audrey stiffened. “Francis?” she said, knowing that wasn’t whom she meant.

Molly gave a tired laugh. “Now don’t you go fooling yourself. I was trying to sit up just now and saw you two out the window.”

Audrey, hesitated, hating to lie, but feeling trapped. “Robert is . . . flattering.”

“Why do you seem unhappy about that?”

She decided to give a measure of truth. “I have only been under the control of other people. Before I marry, I need to be on my own for a bit.”

“It seems he’s letting you. He brought you here to live alone, didn’t he? Or is he pressing for a wedding date?”

“No. Sometimes I think the pressure is all from myself.” Audrey found herself straightening Molly’s blanket, and then urging her to take another sip of water. “Are you hungry?”

“Francis said he’d have Evelyn bring me broth. Feels like that’s all I’ve had for days.”

“It is.” Audrey took her hand, felt the delicate bones. “You’re wasting away. I’ll see if Mrs. Sanford will prepare you something else.”

Molly yawned. “I think I’ll go back to sleep until then.”

“You do that, dear.”

Audrey slowly made her way down the servants’ stair to the kitchen. “Mrs. Sanford?”

“Aye, ma’am?”

She could hear the woman rolling something out on the big wooden table that took up the center of the kitchen. She gave her Molly’s request, and the woman snorted.

“I’ve nursed many a sick child, Mrs. Blake,” the housekeeper said, “and they all want more than’s good for them.”

Audrey thought about the child she’d never had the chance to nurse, and then let it go. Mrs. Sanford couldn’t know the unwelcome memories she stirred.

“Is there a stool I may sit upon?” Audrey asked, thinking that the woman might relax more in her own domain.

“Of course, ma’am.”

She felt one pushed against her skirts. “Thank you. What are you making?”

“Tarts. The earl likes them. And we’ve run out.”

Of course she’d want to prepare his favorite foods. “I cannot begin to express my thanks for those baskets you made for the tenants. They were so appreciative.”

“I’m glad.”

“Everyone seemed very nice. Has there ever been trouble with the tenants?”

“Not this group, ma’am. Mr. Drayton has done a fine job of findin’ married folks, and those with a history of payin’ their own way.”

“The cottages seem to be a decent size and well maintained.”

“The old Mr. Blake saw to that. Thought contented people did better work. Caused some uproar in these parts when other landowners were offended, but he didn’t care. He used to put on a feast every year, too, for all the tenants, but that stopped after his death, many years ago.”

“A feast?” Audrey echoed, intrigued. “That sounds lovely. I’ll have to discuss it with Mr. Drayton.” They hadn’t gone over much of the finances yet. But a feast might go a long way toward smoothing things over with both her tenants and her servants.

“Have you worked here long?” Audrey asked.

There was a momentary silence, and she knew Mrs. Sanford was debating carrying on their conversation.

“Since I was a girl. And when I wanted to marry, old Mr. Blake brought on my husband.”

“That was very kind of him.”

“I know it’s not done in other houses,” she began defensively.

“I don’t care how others run their homes. I will not turn you out because you’re married, not as long as your work is satisfactory.” She didn’t say anything else, hating to leave a threat hanging, but knowing she had to. “Your oldest daughter did not wish to work here?” she continued when the silence lengthened.

“She did, ma’am, but then she decided to marry.”

Audrey could hear the rolling pin hitting the wooden table hard, as if Mrs. Sanford was really emphasizing her work—or emphasizing how busy she was, too busy to talk.

“I haven’t met her yet. Will she be coming by the house?”

“Mayhap. She’s busy with her boy.”

“Let her know I’d like to meet her, please. I’ll leave you to your cooking and look forward to dinner. I’ll eat with Molly.”

She’d almost reached the door when Mrs. Sanford said, “Ma’am?”

“Yes?”

“You always take good care of Molly, like she’s more than a servant.”

“She is, to me.”

“I—appreciate it.”

“Um . . . thank you.” Audrey left the kitchen, feeling bewildered and unsatisfied. There was a mystery she needed to discover, and it wouldn’t help to let her whole staff go for their insolence. And Mrs. Sanford’s words made Audrey hope for the future. Or was the family’s conduct because of
Mr.
Sanford? She seldom encountered him, since he only did occasional work inside the house. Perhaps she would have to make an effort to converse with him. She’d been meaning to ride Erebus . . .

R
obert arrived home just as dusk was settling over the land like a gray cloud, and fog darted its fingers around trees and hedges. Knightsbridge Hall stood sentinel, its hundreds of windows still shimmering with the last of the setting sun. It was a rectangular mansion, with a courtyard in the center for unloading passengers. There was a family wing, a bachelor wing, servants’ wing, and gilded public rooms in front that would have done the Queen proud.

And he was the only one who lived there. He almost found himself wishing for poor relations who needed to be housed. There were dozens of servants, of course, and they were good people. But he could already see that he would be spending more time in London—until he had a family of his own to liven the place up.

Again, he realized the similarities between Audrey and him. She was alone in a house of servants, too, but it was how she wanted it. She wanted independence and freedom, and she had Molly, of course, her dear friend.

Robert had his own friends, the same ones he’d bonded with in India—Blackthorne and Rothford—but both of them were trying to make amends to the families of the other two soldiers who’d died in that dreaded battle. He was looking forward to hearing their stories, but he knew it might not be until the opening of Parliament in January.

There would be other friends from his youth, now gentlemen and peers in their own right, to reestablish ties with. He had much to look forward to.

But now? All he wanted to do was be with Audrey, where he felt useful and needed. It was time to visit his own tenants, but would that even be the same without her? He liked being her eyes, helping her to see the world. Because she’d been so sheltered, she had the wonder of a child.

So he spent the next day on a tour of his own large estate. He couldn’t even meet a quarter of the tenants in one day, but it was a start. He came away with a clearer understanding of what had been going on the last nine years, and some changes he wanted to make, enlarging cottages and improving the lives of his farmers. There was enough of a demand for housing that he could build more homes, as well.

But there was so much he didn’t know! He’d spent years being in command, and now to come home and simply allow others to oversee everything was just wrong. Surely he could find a medium ground, where he had his hands on the reins, but allowed his people to do the work he’d hired them for. Visiting with the tenants made him see that people wanted to know he cared, that he was involved.

Throughout the day, he’d found himself thinking about what Audrey might say, how the people would react to her warmth and caring. He wondered what she was doing, if she spent the day nursing Molly or exploring her home. He had been trying to keep an emotional distance between them, but it just wasn’t working.

R
obert’s good intentions faded when he saw Audrey the next morning. Once again, the door was unmanned, and he walked into her entrance hall unannounced. He would have tracked down Francis, but knew she wouldn’t be pleased at his interference. He found her in the study reading one of her embossed books. He was five steps inside before she gave a start of surprise.

“So much for your vaunted ability to tell people apart,” he teased.

“Good morning, Robert,” she said, slowly smiling her pleasure.

And it was pleasure. She was happy to see him. “So maybe we need a signal so you’ll know it’s me.”

“You could knock,” she answered dryly. “In some cultures, that is the signal someone has arrived.”

“We could have different signals for different things,” he said, ignoring her common sense. “The ‘I need to talk privately’ signal, the ‘Someone’s coming!’ signal.”

He came around the desk until he was beside her. She looked so flustered at his approach, rising up as if to meet him partway. And instead that brought them face-to-face, and before he knew it, against all resolve, he leaned in and kissed her.

Her lips were sweetly parted, so still at first that he knew he’d shocked her. He pressed several gentle kisses along the full lower curve, gradually deepening until he could just taste the warmth between. He cupped the back of her head, tilting her, and with a breathless moan she opened her mouth to him.

He explored her, gently teased her tongue until she met his. Then the kiss turned bolder, more passionate, and he couldn’t get enough of the taste of her. He felt the press of her body against him, and even with all the clothes separating them, it was alluring and encompassing and all that mattered.

He knew with a certainty that he wanted her to be a scandalous widow and take him as her lover.

Audrey was lost in the heat, the urgency, the sensations of Robert taking possession of her mouth, her very will. She could feel the long press of his body against hers, the power, the forcefulness that made refusing unthinkable.

She broke the kiss then, suddenly frightened at how easily he swept away all her restraint, all her promises to never need another man.

“I—I can’t,” she whispered. “Please don’t ask me to.”

She was still in his arms, and he didn’t let her go as he said in a hoarse voice, “I didn’t intend this to happen but I did enjoy it. Will you accept my apology?”

“Perhaps . . . perhaps if you would release me first.”

And then he did, and she had to put her hand against the desk to hold herself upright, as if she could no longer stand without his support.

She didn’t need anyone’s support, she told herself. But it was more difficult than she’d imagined, playing the role of his fiancée, pretending to be drawn to each other, and not making it happen for real.

He’d promised to take Molly’s role in her life, and when he wasn’t there yesterday, she’d felt almost helpless, something so alien to her nature. She was seeing how much she depended on Molly—on another person—to guide her through the sighted world. And it was frightening to know she could never have full independence because of her blindness.

But she couldn’t use him to bring back her confidence. Only she could do that for herself.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking, Robert,” she said at last, when all she could hear was his ragged breathing. “But I’ve told you I won’t play the scandalous widow to your rake. I am not interested in an affair.”

“I know,” he murmured, “and I didn’t mean to try to convince you. Hell, I don’t know what I was trying to do. I just saw you there, looking sweet and irresistible, and I kissed you. And then I thought, What would be wrong with an affair?”

“No. Now sit over there,” she said, pointing to the other side of the desk. “Let’s keep some distance here.”

“Is that for my benefit or yours?”

He was teasing her again, and she tried to relax. “Yours,” she answered firmly.

“I am just a man, Audrey, no paragon.”