Taming Rafe (22 page)

She put her fingers over his lips. “No. I already know the answer. I shouldn’t have asked.” She gathered up her gown and stepped into it. “Goodness—I can hardly offer the same attractions as China.”

Rafe swallowed, trying to slow the pounding of his heart. “I don’t know about that, Lis. I rather like your peaks and valleys.”

“Yes, but not enough,” she said quietly, and pushed aside the chair that blocked the door.

“Lis—”

“I’ll see you at dinner,” she said and left the room, softly closing the door behind her.

He sank back down onto the couch and pulled on his boots. “Damn,” he muttered. “Damn, damn, damn.”

F
elicity lay awake for most of the night.

She longed to be in Rafe’s arms again, to hear him say that he loved her and that he would stay at Forton Hall forever. But she’d told him she knew he wouldn’t stay; and when he tried to make a joke out of it, she’d walked away.

At first she’d felt righteous and indignant, until she’d realized that he was likely to remain at Forton only as long as he could continue to convince himself it wasn’t permanent. If she forced him to make a choice, he would leave. So if he fled for China in the morning, she would have only herself to blame. Nigel was right: sometimes she was simply too bossy and managing.

At breakfast, though, Rafe acted as if nothing had happened. At least she didn’t have to say goodbye just yet. Every day, she became less certain that she could do it at all.

She welcomed the distraction of visiting Squire Talford for luncheon, but at the same time she couldn’t help thinking this might be the last afternoon she and May ever spent with their neighbor. Everyone and everything she held precious was on the verge of slipping through her fingers, and she had no idea what to do about it.

“We’ll be certain to write you once I’ve found
a position,” she said, fighting to keep a game smile on her face.

“I won’t be gone to my daughter’s for more than a few weeks, Felicity. I imagine you’ll still be here when I return.”

“Rafe said it’ll take a good month just to finish the framework for the wing,” May concurred. “He’s going to let me choose the colors for my new bedchamber.”

“May, it’s not your bedchamber,” Felicity snapped. Immediately she regretted the outburst, and reached over to pull her sister away from the puppies and up against her knee. “I’m sorry, sweetling. I didn’t sleep well last night.”

“And you had a fight with Rafe. He’s cranky, too.”

Felicity flushed as Charles looked in her direction. “It was just a little disagreement.”

“May,” the squire said, “I believe Cook has a plate of table scraps for those beasties, if you’d like to fetch it.”

May scampered off, and Felicity gazed suspiciously at her neighbor. “What?” she asked.

He set aside his tea. “My dear, I have no intention of leaving you alone with Bancroft if you still have reservations about his sanity.”

“Mr. Bancroft’s mind is perfectly sound,” she answered. “And we’re hardly alone, anyway. James is but two miles away, and Mr. Greetham less than that.” She leaned forward to pat his hand. “Besides, we have a cook, a footman, and a butler, now.”

“Oh, heavens. Forgive me for worrying about you, then.”

She smiled. “I thank you for worrying about us. But please don’t. We can manage.”

She did accept the offer of his coach to take them
back to Forton. But when she and May stepped to the ground in the stable yard, Felicity felt ready to change her mind about her ability to manage on her own. “Oh, no.”

Lord Deerhurst’s phaeton stood by the kitchen door, though there was no sign of the earl among the carts and workers and growing stacks of lumber. A moment later Rafe hopped down from one of the wagons and approached her. She stifled a sigh of relief—at least he wasn’t somewhere brawling with James.

“Deerhurst is in the morning room,” he said in his normal, easy tone, though he avoided looking her in the eye.

“Thank you.”

He nodded, and reached for May’s hand. “Come help me measure lumber, midget.”

Feeling distinctly abandoned, and growing warm and melty at the sight of May teaching Rafe one of her silly, made-up songs, Felicity went to find James Burlough.

He sat on the very edge of the green overstuffed chair by the window, as though he worried over dirtying his breeches. They were exceptionally fine, dark blue with a matching coat and a light blue and gray vest. Compared to Rafe in her grandfather’s sweat-stained old shirt, which he still used as work clothes, he looked marvelous—but not nearly as appetizing.

“Good afternoon, James.”

He stood. “Good afternoon, Felicity. How did you find the squire?”

“Quite well, and looking forward to visiting his daughter.”

“Splendid.” James took her hand and brought it to his lips. “And how does today find you?”

She smiled as she retrieved her hand and took a
seat. At least he seemed to have forgiven her for snapping at him during the Robert Fields incident. “It finds me well, thank you. What brings you to Forton Hall?”

The earl sat beside her. “You do, Felicity, as always. I need to drive into Chester tomorrow, and wondered if you would care to accompany me.”

That was what she needed—a distraction. “That would be delightful, James. May has been wanting to go to the candy shop there all summer.”

His smile faltered a little and then formed anew. “Yes, May should come, too. Of course.”

Felicity blinked, immediately realizing her faux pas. “Oh, I’m sorry. I am simply used to having May with me everywhere.”

“Having her along will be delightful. Yes. Delightful.”

They sat in silence for a long moment before Felicity remembered she could ring for tea. These days, servants seemed such a luxury that she always wanted to laugh when the door opened at her summons.

The butler scratched at the door and then entered. “Yes, Miss Harrington?”

“Would you please bring tea for Lord Deerhurst and myself, Beeks?”

He nodded. “With pleasure, miss.”

“Impressive,” the earl said as the door closed. “Your Beeks showed me in here. Very correct manners. Wherever did you find him?”

“Actually, he belongs to the Duke and Duchess of Highbarrow. We have him on loan.”

“On loan—of course. I couldn’t see Bancroft bothering to acquire such a proficient servant when he intends to vacate Forton Hall at the earliest possible moment.”

Beeks silently brought in the tea tray and left
again, while Felicity could hear May outside shouting with laughter at something. She wished she were out there, and that she was the one Rafe was attempting to amuse—and touching, and tickling.

James cleared his throat. “I don’t mean to pressure you, but have you considered what we discussed before? My proposal, I mean.”

Felicity blinked. “I have,” she said, “but I do ask you for a little more time, to put things in order.” And to be certain that she had exhausted all her other options.

He smiled and took her hand. “Of course. Though I must tell you, I do take this as a positive step.” The earl clenched her fingers tightly, then leaned forward and touched his lips to hers.

“Please remember, though, this is
not
an answer,” she said, freeing her fingers before he could bruise them. “I won’t be guilty of misleading you.”

“I know you would not. You have still made me very happy.”

Felicity looked at him, keeping the pleasant expression on her face and wondering whether she would have hesitated if Rafe had agreed to sell the earl Forton Hall. It made her feel dirty—as though, as Rafe had said, she was selling herself for the price of her home. Yet with or without Forton, she remained responsible for her and May’s well-being.

“There is still the matter of my wedding gift to you. Have you spoken to Bancroft about selling Forton?”

Felicity nodded. She could be straightforward about this, at least, and then go through the rest of the mess with a clear conscience. “Mr. Bancroft, I’m sorry to say, declines to sell Forton Hall to you. You know the two of you met badly, and I’m afraid he won’t—”

“He won’t sell to me?” Deerhurst interrupted, surging to his feet. “You explained to him that the property would remain in your hands?”

James didn’t need to know Rafe’s exact answer. “Yes, but as I said—”

“This is preposterous!” The earl strode to the window and glared out across the front drive. For a long moment he was silent, the muscles of his jaw clenched and angry. Then he turned to face her again. “I cannot believe even a man of such poor morals would treat you so cruelly.”

Felicity shrugged, trying to hide her alarm at his sudden temper. Good heavens, she’d practically said she would marry him, even without the addition of Forton. If it was only a gift for her, he was taking its loss far too seriously. “He owes me nothing.”

“I cannot accept this! I offered him seventy thousand pounds for this…” He stopped himself. “For this land. He’s practically a pauper! How can he turn that down?”

“My lord,” she said, putting out a hand to try to calm him down, “although I cherish Forton Hall, my decision does not rest on it, I assure you.”

He looked at her, his expression confused. A moment later he blinked and shook himself. “No, of course not. The workers outside—does he intend to rebuild?”

“Yes. His brother is helping to finance the restoration. I believe they both hope to make a profit from the ultimate sale.”

“I’ve offered him a generous profit, already.”

“James, please. Have some more tea.”

James shook his head. “No, I cannot stay. I…have some things to attend to before tomorrow. I shall come by for you and May at nine.”

“We’ll be ready.”

The earl strode from the room, and a moment later the front door slammed. He hadn’t even waited for Beeks to show him out. Felicity sipped at her tea. Deerhurst’s elation at her response to his proposal seemed to have been forgotten. Men were such clods, sometimes, fighting over territory neither one wanted, just so the other couldn’t have it. It would almost be a relief to have the whole business over and done with. Almost—if it didn’t mean losing both Forton Hall and Rafael Bancroft.

Well. That was that, then. The Earl of Deerhurst surveyed the clutter surrounding Forton Hall and sneered. He’d been patient for five years, courting Felicity, watching the estate decay, and waiting for the Harringtons to come to their nearest, dearest friend for help. They hadn’t.

Instead, the shining son of the Duke of Highbarrow had appeared, taking everything for himself. Slowly Deerhurst climbed onto the high seat of his phaeton. Since Bancroft refused to sell Forton off quietly, only one option remained open. According to Mrs. Denwortle, the Duke of Highbarrow himself was on his way to visit. The deed would never keep its secrets from a veteran landowner. Therefore, attention had to be turned elsewhere. Rafael Michelangelo Bancroft had to die. And then James could approach the duke with the kind offer to quickly and quietly purchase Forton and any unfortunate memories connected with it.

He smiled as he clucked to his mare. Now all that remained was to decide how to do it. An accident, perhaps. On the trip to Chester, he would find whatever assistance he might need. Bancroft was a fool thrice over. He wouldn’t have Felicity, and he was about to lose Forton Hall—and his life.

While woman was by far God’s greatest creation, jealousy had to be Lucifer’s. Rafe leaned on his shovel to watch Deerhurst hand Felicity and May into his barouche. May waved at him as they started off for Chester, but Felicity didn’t even turn around.

Cursing under his breath, he went back to digging out the grass that covered the area they’d marked for the new stable. She hadn’t said much about Deerhurst’s visit yesterday, and the earl looked more smug than either elated or angry—none of which gave him a clue about what they’d discussed.

Telling himself it was none of his affair didn’t do any good, either. He loved Felicity, and whatever happened, he would continue to love her. Falling in love wouldn’t have been such a disaster if she’d been curious or even willing to travel. But no, he’d fallen for a woman with roots so deep into an estate that she was willing to stay on even when she no longer had any claim to it.

Beeks approached with a glass of lemonade, Ronald following behind laden with a pitcher and glasses for the rest of the workers. “Thanks, Beeks.”

“My pleasure, sir.”

The butler stood by patiently, waiting for him to finish. The lemonade was fine and sweet, but Rafe preferred May’s with its seeds and clumps of lemon pulp. It brought a certain element of danger to drinking. “Beeks,” he asked, handing the empty glass back, “what do you think of this place?”

“It is hardly my position to critique a country estate, Master Rafael. As you are aware, I have been stationed at Bancroft House in London since I began my term of employment with His Grace.”

“And you’ve known me since I was two,” Rafe said, unimpressed. “What do you think of Forton Hall?”

The butler looked at him for a long moment. “May I speak frankly?” he finally asked.

“Please do.” Rafe steeled himself for a long diatribe on the miserable state of Forton. It was what he wanted to hear: that he would be an idiot even to consider occupying the place on a…more than temporary basis. Damnation, he couldn’t even
think
the word “permanent” without cringing.

“It’s been sadly neglected,” the butler stated.

“Yes, it has.”

Beeks cleared his throat. “At the risk of jeopardizing the future worth of my opinion, Master Rafael, I…like it.”

Rafe blinked. “Beg pardon?”

Beeks looked embarrassed by the admission, but at Rafe’s skeptical look he continued. “It’s dreadfully cluttered, and the green curtains in the dining room are painful to view, but—and I beg your pardon, sir—it has an admirable, if not quite dignified, warmth.”

“Warmth,” Rafe repeated.

“Yes, sir.”

“But what of the buildings, the garden, the—” He stopped, because the complete list of inefficiencies would take all day.

“As I said, all have been sadly neglected.”

“And?” Rafe prompted, desperation making his voice crack.

“I’m no architect, sir, but what remains of Forton Hall seems sound enough. Every window has a pleasant view, the rooms are large and comfortable and within easy walking distance from the kitchen and the servants’ area…and the air is particularly fresh in comparison to London.”

Rafe stared at him. “By God, Beeks, you astound me.”

“I am sorry, sir. If you wish me to recant, I will of course do so.”

Rafe waved a hand at him. “No, no. I asked for your honest opinion. I just didn’t expect it to be a positive one.”

“My apologies again.” The butler nodded and turned back for the manor.