The Lady of Bolton Hill (13 page)

The Professor took his seat. “Now that that bit of unpleasantness is behind us, let’s have Mrs. Garfield bring us a nice meal, shall we?”

C
lara watched in amusement as all the other spectators craned their necks back and forth, following the flight of the tennis ball as it was smacked to-and-fro across the court. Only she and Daniel were completely oblivious to the play. They spent the entire afternoon recounting the long years that had separated them, filling in the gaps and fleshing out the details. Only when Kate Tremain came out to play did they force their attention down to the court.

Daniel’s sister was the only woman playing today, but she had as much spirit as her male competitors. Kate was at a distinct disadvantage because of the slim, form-fitting dress she wore, but she was more nimble than her competition. She had just finished playing her final match when two young men stepped up for their round.

“That’s Jamie Carr,” Daniel said as a young man stepped up to play a match. “My partner Ian’s son. Kate beat him in last month’s match, and he’s still smarting over it.”

Clara nodded. “It can be very difficult for a man to compete with a woman. He’ll seem churlish if he wins, but unmanly if he loses.”

“That’s why Kate is trying to persuade more women to join the club. She will no doubt ask you sooner or later.”

Clara watched the two men vault across the court, swinging small wooden rackets with an odd combination of grace and vigor. Clara shook her head. “I’ve never been terribly athletic. I’d be more likely to smack myself in the head with that racket than succeed in getting the ball over the net.”

Daniel had been excessively polite to her ever since picking her up this morning. She suspected he was trying to compensate for his stark refusal to consider some of her religious convictions, as if holding doors for her and sending her admiring glances could help soothe her concerns.

But Clara was patient. Daniel had just come back into her life and she would not abandon him so easily. It was through daily interactions such as these that she could teach him by living the example of a godly life. She had begun to pray every night that Daniel’s heart would soften enough for him to be open to God’s grace.

They sat together and watched Jamie Carr play, but Daniel showed little interest in the match.

“So tell me why you never married,” he asked. Most men would have danced around the sensitive topic with exquisite delicacy, but leave it to Daniel to simply ask in his charmingly frank manner.

She smiled at him. “No one showed any interest? I’m slinking into spinsterhood due to inherent mediocrity?”

“Quit fishing for compliments. No less than half a dozen men have been ogling you from the moment we sat down. So why haven’t you married?”

The abundance of male attention she had been receiving was probably due to the fact that very few women were in attendance at the sporting event, but her father taught her it was impolite to refute a compliment. And his question was a legitimate one, however bluntly it had been posed. “Have you ever heard of Nicholas Spencer?” she asked.

“No. Should I have?”

“Well, if you lived in London you’d probably know the name. He was a member of Parliament when I met him, very bright, very ambitious. We hit it off quite well, in fact.” Nicholas had a charm and reckless self-confidence that had instantly reminded her of Daniel, which was why she felt so drawn to Nicholas. “He supported my working for
The
Times
. Most men thought being a journalist was shockingly unladylike, but Nicky thought it made me clever. He didn’t particularly like my political views, but then, I was not wild about his, either.”

“In any event,” she continued, “Nicky was appointed to the position of Assistant Viceroy of India. It was a terrific honor, and something he was quite well suited for. The problem was that I did not believe I was suited to be the wife of such a person. I’ve never thought much of England’s involvement in India, and I dreaded the prospect of living there. I told him so, too. It didn’t go over very well.” That was an understatement. It was the raging argument they’d had that night that had led to their broken engagement.

“After a long argument he suggested we reconsider our betrothal, and I agreed. It quite shocked him, I think. I’m almost certain he expected me to agree to anything in order to proceed with the marriage. I guess he didn’t know me as well as he thought. That was three years ago.”

Daniel was looking at her with curiosity. “You speak of this so casually . . . do you still think about him?”

She had been devastated at the time. Clara remembered barely being able to get out of bed the days after Nicholas had broken their engagement, but now it was hard to remember what was so extraordinary about him. “I think the fact that I was willing to leave him rather than move to India was a sign that he was not the right man for me.”

The way Daniel’s eyes narrowed with a speculative gleam made him look like a panther getting ready to pounce. “Now, Clara,” he drawled. “We can’t have you getting the reputation of being a jilted woman. People would talk, and think how terrible that would be.”

“No one knows about it here. Unless you start blathering about it.”

“Nevertheless, it’s a terrible thing to be alone at your rapidly advancing age. I’m willing to help you out in this matter.”

A grin spread across her face. “And how precisely do you plan on helping me out?”

“For a start I will begin by calling on you. And taking you out to venues such as this where everyone can see you have a doting admirer sitting beside you.”

The heat rushed to her cheeks. “I hardly see how that would help my reputation. I’ve heard from a number of respectable sources that you terrify polite society.” If the grin on Daniel’s face was any indication, he did not mind his alarming reputation. “Besides, I can’t imagine you ‘doting’ over anyone,” she said as she turned her attention back to the tennis.

“Really? What about if I put my arm around your waist, like so.” She felt the pressure of his hand as it settled on the side of her hip. If she looked down, she would draw attention to his forward behavior, but a thrill went through her at sitting within the circle of his arm. It felt . . . well, it felt simply delicious.

“Daniel, you should stop,” she said in a hushed tone.

“Or perhaps a little kiss,” Daniel said as he ignored the urgency in her voice. “A respectable kiss, of course. Nothing tawdry here.” He kissed the side of her cheek, so fleetingly that she barely registered the touch of his lips, but after he withdrew, the spot on her cheek tingled with awareness. Her gaze flicked about the other spectators in the bleachers, but all of their heads were swaying in that back-and-forth manner as they watched the tennis ball volley across the court. “Daniel, you are terrible,” she said in a fierce whisper, but she couldn’t help a smile from curving her mouth.

“That was terrible? Oh my, I’d best try this again.” The arm around her waist tightened as he drew her firmly against the side of his body. From thigh to shoulder they were pressed together, and Daniel placed a kiss on the top of her cheekbone, then another on the corner of her brow. And then he casually withdrew his arm, shifted back to his seat, and turned his attention back to the tennis as though her heart wasn’t pounding and sensation wasn’t racing through every nerve ending in her body.

“Horrible form on that return volley,” he said casually. “Jamie had best improve his backhand if he has any hope of keeping up with Katie. Now, back to the far more interesting topic of how you are to be properly courted. We’ve yet to discuss the matter of gifts. Did this Nelson fellow shower you with gifts?”

“Nicholas. And no, he was very thrifty.”

“Thrifty, was he? Alas, I am not quite so
thrifty
when it comes to women I cherish. I’ve always thought you have the most glorious hair. Why you insist on hiding it beneath a bonnet is beyond me. Perhaps some pretty clips for your hair would be nice. With sapphires, to match your eyes. Not terribly thrifty, so poor Nigel would disapprove, but I think they’d be just the thing. Now, give me your hand.”

“What for?”

“Why must you always fuss? Your hand.” When he said it in that authoritative, infinitely self-confident manner, Clara was helpless to resist. He covered her hand and something cold and hard was pressed into her palm. When she opened her hand, two gold hairclips, covered with sapphires and tiny seed pearls, twinkled in her palm. Her gaze flew to Daniel’s face, and her breath caught at the tenderness gleaming in his eyes.

“They are beautiful,” she breathed. “But, Daniel, it wouldn’t be right for me to accept them.”

“Nonsense,” Daniel said. “If you recall, I destroyed several of your hairpins the day we rushed downtown during the riot. Simply replenishing your supply.”

It was so overwhelming. A smile hovered on the corner of Daniel’s perfectly formed lips as he awaited her reaction. When he looked at her like that, it made her heart ache with longing. “Daniel, these aren’t the kind of gifts one accepts from a friend. They are much too dear.”

“Then perhaps it is time I become more than just a friend . . . that way I won’t tarnish your reputation. Spinsterish as it is. Now, let’s get this hideous bonnet off your head and see how they look.”

They were in the middle of a tennis match, with spectators on all sides of them. “I can’t take off my bonnet and let down my hair here. It would cause a scene.”

“Very well.” Daniel rose to his feet and held a hand out for her. She remained frozen on the spot, certain that wherever he planned to lead her was going to push her in a direction she had been hoping and fearing in equal measures.

“Sit down, man!” someone hollered from behind them.

Daniel waited patiently while calls of frustration mounted behind them. “Clara?”

It was hopeless. She knew Daniel would continue to cause a scene until she left with him, and in truth, she
wanted
to follow wherever he led her. Placing her hand in his, he guided them down the narrow row toward the aisle. The tennis courts were in the middle of a large field behind the clubhouse and there was nowhere to go for privacy. A moment later Daniel led her beneath the stands. The smacking of the tennis balls continued, but she could not tear her gaze off Daniel as he stood before her.

“Be a sport, Clara. Try these on.” His long fingers were already pulling the bonnet from her head. After it was removed, he contemplated the coils of hair arranged in twisting ropes at the back of her head. Grasping her chin between his fingers, he tilted her head forward and back, studying the complicated hairstyle with the intensity of an engineer scrutinizing a design he wished to dismantle.

A gleam of satisfaction lit his face as he removed the single pin at the top of her head, causing the coiled mass to tumble about her shoulders. She ought to be embarrassed. The heat of Daniel’s gaze was nearly incendiary as he took in the fall of her hair spilling across her shoulders and down to her elbows. It was a look of sheer masculine appreciation that caused her to blush straight down to her toes. And yet, she reveled in it.

“Satisfied?” Clara asked serenely.

“Delighted. Now hold still.” She felt him lift the length of her hair above one ear and fasten it with one of the sapphire pins. No man had ever dressed her hair before, and the moment felt oddly intimate as she stood beneath his raised arms, feeling him arrange her hair and pin it into place. The other side received the same treatment.

Daniel dropped his arms and studied her. “Breathtaking,” he said, and Clara knew he was not referring to the hairclips. A burst of applause rose from the stands above, signaling the end of the game, but Clara stood frozen beneath the warm approval that smoldered in Daniel’s gaze.

“The match must be over,” she said.

His gaze did not waver. “Yes.” He cupped her face between his hands and took a step closer to her. The lapels of his jacket brushed against her chest and she could scarcely breathe. Clara lowered her lids, and he needed no further invitation. His lips covered hers, drinking gently from them. She turned to fit her face closer alongside his, and he responded by locking his arms tighter about her waist. The length of him was pressed against her body and the intimacy was enthralling. When he lifted his lips from hers, he kept his arms locked firmly around her.

“I’m glad you came back from England, Clara,” he said gently. “I was starting to wonder if you ever would.”

The longing in his voice was unmistakable. “Daniel, you said that it was a good thing I went to England. That we were headed for trouble. Is that where this is leading?”

“Trouble? I certainly hope so.”

He said it in jest, but Clara was wise enough to know there was plenty of trouble on the horizon. Daniel was the best friend she had in the world, but could never be more than that if he could not share her faith. Surely if she was patient, he would come to share her faith, wouldn’t he? She would wait for Daniel until the moon fell from the sky if that was what was required of her, but in the back of her mind she knew she was playing with fire. Given how her entire world was beginning to fall into orbit around Daniel Tremain, she was playing with an
inferno
.