The reluctant cavalier (12 page)

"But how is the estate run, if Lord Grafton is hardly in residence?" Annabella lifted her arms so that the maid could pull the petticoat around her waist.

"Oh, Master Parsifal takes care of it, miss. His lordship doesn't care for country life, you see."

Annabella frowned, reflecting that it was hardly fair of Lord Grafton to put the burdens of estate management wholly on his younger brother's shoulders. But she could not think of that now; the maid was tying a wide white ribbon just below her bosom, and she was almost done dressing. She smoothed down the muslin skirt, and hoped she could have her own clothes brought to her soon. The dress was of the latest style, and quite dashing for a morning dress, but it was made for a lady slighter in the bosom than she. She bit her lip and looked about for a fichu, but the maid had not brought one. Well, it was of no importance, she was sure. What was more important was attending to her mother.

Quickly, Annabella went down the hall to her mother's room and opened the door. A maid was sitting by the bed, as Mr. Wentworth had promised, and was darning a sock. Lady Smith was awake and, upon seeing Annabella, held out her hand to her daughter.

"Oh, Mama!" whispered Annabella, rushed to the bedside, and clasped her mother's hand. One look at her mother's pale and tired face shot guilt through her heart, hard and hot. "I am so sorry!"

"For what, my dear?" Lady Smith asked, patting Annabella's cheek gently. She looked at the maid, dismissing her with a wave of her hand.

"My fault... I should never have asked to have come to the masquerade! If I had not, you would not be hurt now, I know it!"

"Nonsense, Bella! How could you know this would happen?"

"I did not, of course, Mama. But you must admit that had we not come, you would not have been attacked. I teased and begged you, thinking only of my selfish wishes."

"Well, if we had not come, it
might
not have happened." Lady Smith's hand tensed under Annabella's, and she looked at her daughter, her eyes troubled and fearful. "But if not now, then perhaps later. I am afraid there is someone who wishes you ill, Annabella. I could almost wish you were married already, for you would be protected. It seems the man who attacked me last night mistook me for you. He wished to take you away, so that you would be forced to marry him." She shuddered. "He did not say it in so many words, but I know it from his actions and what he did say. Oh, heavens! We—your father and I—did not think such vileness would ever come near us because of our wealth, though we should have. I am only glad the man made a mistake and did not take you, love."

"Oh, no!" Annabella let out a sob. "No, I could never want you hurt for my sake! I am so sorry!" She pressed her hand against her mouth to stop its trembling.

"Heavens, Bella! There is no need to go into alt over it!" Her mother smiled and shook her head, then closed her eyes briefly, a crease forming between her brows. Annabella felt worse than ever. The action obviously brought her mother pain, but Annabella drew in her breath and calmed herself. Certainly, she did not need any histrionics.

"Besides," Lady Smith continued, "your father will be home in two weeks, and then we may see what he will do about this incident. Meanwhile, we are obliged to stay here—you too, Bella, for you cannot be home alone." She sighed. "I cannot like it, but I must trust Mr. Wentworth to see that you are safe. At least Lord Grafton is not here."

Annabella smiled slightly. "I am sure you may trust Mr. Wentworth, Mama. He seems quite dependable, and Doctor Robinson confirmed it. Why, it is not even Lord Grafton who maintains the estate at all, but Mr. Wentworth, for that is what the maid who attended me said. He is very kind, too, for he offered to watch you himself—accompanied by a maid, of course—when I was so worried for you last night."

Lady Smith looked a little skeptical. "That is all very well, Bella, but what's bred in the bone will come out in the flesh. The Wentworth family is very wild, and has always been, and I cannot think that however Mr. Wentworth may seem a gentleman, he might not be entirely trusted to stay within the bounds of propriety. I have even heard he is something of an eccentric." She sighed. "It is very awkward, to be sure. But I suppose he cannot do anything untoward while his mother and sister are under the same roof."

Annabella let out a laugh at the thought of Mr. Wentworth giving in to his passions, and her mother looked at her quizzically.

"Oh, it is only that I cannot imagine Mr. Wentworth in the throes of emotion, Mama. Really, I think you are painting him with the wrong brush. He was so very kind to me, very concerned for you, and a perfect gentleman at the Bowerlands' card party. There have been many opportunities for him to importune me, for we were alone briefly a few times, but he did nothing of the sort. Truly, you have nothing to fear from him. Why, I might be as safe with him as if he were my brother, I am sure!"

Lady Smith looked worried nevertheless. "You are not developing a
tendre
for him, are you, Bella? There are men who can affect a quiet charm that is very deceptive."

Annabella stared at her mother for a moment, then burst into laughter. "Oh, heavens, Mama, no!.He is so very staid and quite shy, I am certain, with little address or social grace, and not at all dashing. Why, he blushes every time I speak with him, so much that it shows through his dark complexion! Surely, no seducer is so practiced that he can affect a blush!"

The older woman relaxed against her pillows and smiled. "Well, I suppose that is true."

A knock at the door interrupted them, and a maid came in and curtsied. "If it please you, my lady, miss, Mr. Wentworth wishes to speak with you." Lady Smith inclined her head slightly, then winced, putting her hand to her head. Annabella smiled at the maid and nodded.

Mr. Wentworth's initial step into the room was hesitant, his manner diffident. Annabella smiled at him. How silly of Mama to think she would be swept off her feet by him! It was more likely that someone like the Cavalier should do so—but she put away that thought. It was not the time to indulge in fancies.

"Lady Smith, Miss Smith." He bowed, a little awkwardly. "I came to see how you were, ma'am," he said to Lady Smith. "I hope you slept well? And is there anything you require?"

Lady Smith shook her head. "No, not for myself.. . and I wish to thank you for your hospitality and care for me in summoning the doctor."

Mr. Wentworth looked uncomfortable. "It is nothing, I assure you. You were most grievously assaulted on our grounds; it is the least my family can do to make amends."

"You have been kind, nevertheless, or so my daughter has told me."

Mr. Wentworth looked more uncomfortable than before, and his cheeks gained some color. Annabella threw her mother a triumphant look, and Lady Smith's lips twitched as if suppressing a smile. "But there is something I need of you, I am afraid. The man who assaulted me did so believing me to be my daughter. My husband is not here to take care of us; a letter to him would take more than a few days to bring him here, chiefly because he is attending to matters of state. Meanwhile, I fear for Annabella's safety, especially since I cannot keep watch over her."

Mr. Wentworth gazed at her steadily, and his lips pressed together for a moment. "You need not fear that, ma'am. I have already determined the assailant's identity, for I found his watch on the path where both of you had stood. It is Sir Quentin Barnaby—"

Annabella gasped. "He—Mama, it was he who tried, at the Laughtons' party, to—"

"And now we know why," replied her mother. "I have heard he is in great debt. He no doubt wished to force you into marrying him."

Mr. Wentworth nodded. "I thought of that, as well. But we know who he is now, and so are armed against him. I promise you, Lady Smith, that I will not allow Miss Smith to come to harm while I am here. If she needs to go anywhere about the estate, or away from it, I will make sure she is accompanied, either by a servant, or myself."

There was a silence for a moment, then Lady Smith looked at him uncertainly. "It will sound ungrateful, I know, but Lord Grafton's reputation is such that I cannot help wondering if it is a little like the fox watching the henhouse—"

"Oh,
Mama!
For heaven's
sake!"
cried Annabella covering her heated face with her hands. She cast an embarrassed glance at Mr. Wentworth and saw he had blushed as well.

"No, no, Miss Smith, I can understand your mother's concern," Mr. Wentworth said, looking a little miserable nevertheless. "I know my family's reputation, and my brother's in particular. There is even some truth to his reputation, and I do not blame your mother for her worry or even that she may think I am like him." He gave a short, mirthless laugh and turned to Lady Smith. "But I can assure you I will not let Miss Smith come to harm, ma'am. Not from any assailant, from my brother, or from myself." He looked away for a moment, his lips pressed together again, and this time Annabella thought it was from some frustration. She glanced at her mother and saw her put her hand out to him, obviously regretting her words.

"I am sorry ... I should not have said..." Lady Smith cleared her throat, saying more firmly: "Please, Mr. Wentworth, I can see you are an honorable man. I have been frightened and hurt, and it made me say what I should not even have been thinking. If you will forgive me ..."

A small, wry smile formed on his lips. "There is nothing to forgive, ma'am. I would have said the same thing in your place." Lady Smith smiled at him and visibly relaxed against the pillows.

"You are most generous, Mr. Wentworth. I thank you."

Another slight blush suffused his cheeks, and he bowed, seeming unable to say anything. He glanced at Annabella, hesitated, then said: "I will have breakfast—or luncheon— brought up to you, Lady Smith, if you would like some— and for you, too, Miss Smith, if you wish to dine with your mother."

"I thank you, sir," replied Lady Smith. "But my head is so dizzy still that I do not think I could stomach more than some tea." She looked at Annabella and waved a dismissing hand at her. "Do you go, Bella, and accompany Mr. Wentworth. I shall want to rest afterward, you see."

"But Mama—"

Lady Smith raised her hand. "No, my dear. I promise you I shall not go into an apoplexy or a fainting spell. I am merely dizzy and intend to stay where I am, like a good, obedient patient." She smiled ruefully. "I think I am the one who needs to make amends this time, for implying that Mr. Wentworth is not trustworthy. Do go, Bella."

"If Miss Smith wishes not to have breakfast downstairs—" Mr. Wentworth began, but Annabella shook her head.

"Of course I wish to have breakfast with you, Mr. Wentworth." She felt sorry for him, for he was clearly nothing like his family, and it was wholly unfair to judge him by their actions instead of his own. She rose from her chair at her mother's side.

He gazed at her for a long moment, then nodded. "I thank you, Miss Smith." He turned to her mother. "And you, ma'am. I shall have your tea—and perhaps a little toast, in case you might wish for it later—brought up to you soon."

Annabella went up to him then, and put her hand on his arm. "Shall we go, sir?" she asked. Again, he seemed surprised, as he had at the Bowerlands' card party. He nodded, and she smiled at him and allowed him to lead her from the room. Really, her mother must see by now that Mr. Wentworth posed no threat to her virtue. He was clearly a kind, trustworthy man, wholly in command of his servants' respect and Doctor Robinson's, as well. His only fault was an extreme modesty, and in that he erred on the side of good. How unjust it was that people should judge him by his family's reputation!

As they went downstairs to the breakfast parlor, Annabella reflected that though he was not at all dashing and brave as the Cavalier or as elegant and handsome as the Duke of Stratton, there was a certain attraction in his gentleness. She smiled to herself. She was sure she would not develop a
tendre
for Mr. Wentworth, however.

She suppressed a sigh. No, she would not be forming a
tendre
for Mr. Wentworth, or for the duke, for that matter.

For she was very much afraid she was frivolous enough to have begun to form one for the mysterious Cavalier, a man of whom she knew nothing. He was dashing and brave, feared nothing, was a man of action and supreme confidence. He was quick-witted and could have a ridiculous sense of humor, which appealed to her. And ... and he was attracted to her.

Annabella cast a quick glance at Mr. Wentworth, glad that he was not looking at her, for she felt her face heat at the memory of the Cavalier's last kiss. She had been shameless, but how could she have helped it? She did not know how it had happened that she had come into his arms, or how she had come to look up at him at just the right moment for his lips to cover hers.

No, no she would not think of it. Annabella pushed the memory of the kiss firmly away. She had determined this morning that she would put aside any thoughts of refusing the Duke of Stratton, and be a dutiful daughter for once. The next time she saw the duke—after she and her mother returned home—she would tell him.

She let out a short, tight breath, and looked up to see Mr. Wentworth looking at her, a question in his eyes. She shook her head. "It is nothing, Mr. Wentworth. Merely thoughts of the things I must do for the future."

He gave a brief smile in return and nodded. "Yes," he said. "I understand."

It was all he said. Yet Annabella felt comforted somehow, and suddenly wished he could be her friend. Perhaps, since she would be at Wentworth Abbey for at least a week, they could come to know each other better, and he would not be so shy around her. It would be a good thing, she reflected, if she could bring Mr. Wentworth out of himself a little, so that he felt more at ease in company. It was the least she could do for him, after all his kindness.

They came to the dining room at last, and when the door opened, there were other guests there having their breakfast. Mr. Wentworth's arm stiffened under her hand, and she glanced up at him. His expression had become cool,and then he looked down at the sideboards, as if suddenly concerned only with the selection of his meal. Annabella looked away from him and caught the Duke of Stratton staring at her. He smiled slightly as their eyes met, and nodded to her, but his smile faded as he saw Mr. Wentworth at her side. Again she glanced at her companion and saw that he had acknowledged the duke with a curt nod.