Who Needs Mr Willoughby? (17 page)

“But
I
do,” he said firmly. “When we sleep together, Mari –
if
we do,” he corrected himself, “I want it to be on a proper bed, not a pile of hay, and I want it to be perfect between us, because –”

“Because –?” she prompted, and caught her lower lip in her teeth.

“Because I love you,” he whispered. “I’m completely, utterly besotted with you.”

***

When they returned, the picnic was in full swing. As Willoughby dismounted and led the horses off to the stables, Marianne saw her mother bearing down on her.

“Where have you
been
?” she demanded. “We need your help in the kitchen, straight away. There are pies to be brought out.”

And before Marianne could find words to reply, Mrs Holland stalked away.

She strode after her mother, her previous joy at Willoughby’s confession that he loved her now tempered by irritation at her mother. Where was Elinor? Why couldn’t
she
help to bring the bloody pies out –?

She had her answer as she spied her sister and Edward, their arms linked as they strolled across the lawn, looking as if they belonged together, and her face relaxed into a smile.

No wonder her mother didn’t want to bother Elinor.

“Miss Holland.”

Marianne looked up, her thoughts miles away as she entered the kitchen hallway to kick off her boots, and saw Jack Fenwick standing before her.

“Jack,” she said, her words flat as she yanked off her boots and retrieved her shoes. “Haven’t you anything better to do than hang out in the hallway?”

“I’m busy, since you ask, helping mam in the kitchen.” He glanced at her. “I’d say you’ve been busy, too.”

Marianne paused, boot in hand. “What are you talking about?”

His gaze went to her hair, and he grinned. He reached out and plucked a strand of hay from her hair and held it up. “You’ve been in the haymow with Willoughby, haven’t you?”

She moved to snatch it back, but he held it out of reach. “I’ve told you, Jack Fenwick, what I do – or don’t do – is none of your bloody business –”

“Miss Holland? Is everything all right?”

Matthew Brandon stood at the far end of the hallway. Although his expression gave nothing away, his eyes were questioning as they met hers.

Her gaze slid from his to Jack’s, who regarded her with a mixture of challenge and amusement.
Go ahead
, his eyes dared her.
Tell him what you’ve just been up to with Kit Willoughby.

“Everything’s fine,” she called back, her voice steady despite her annoyance with Jack. “Thanks.”

“Good. Now that you’re here,” he added as he turned away, “you might like to come and help us carry the rest of those pies outside.”

Chapter 27

“Tell me – what are your plans, Edward?” Elinor asked as they made their way arm-in-arm across the lawn at a leisurely pace.

He blinked. “My plans? Aside from eating too much, you mean?”

She smiled. “No. I wondered what interests you. What work you do, what your career aspirations are. Your sister mentioned politics.”

“Did she? How tiresome of her.”

“You’d make an excellent politician, I think.”

“On the contrary, I’d be godawful. An orator who can scarcely string two sentences together does not a riveting politician make.”

“I think you’re very riveting,” she offered, and blushed. “When you want to be.”

Surprise and pleasure skimmed across his face. “Thank you for that very charming and well-intentioned lie. I appreciate it.” He sighed. “Harriet wants me to become a barrister, at the very least, or a Member of Parliament, at the very most.” His smile was wry. “She has great plans for me, does my sister. Plans which, unfortunately,” he added as his smile faded, “I don’t share.”

“What is it
you
want to do?” she asked, curious. “If you don’t want to practise law or enter politics.”

He hesitated. “I always wanted to be a clergyman. I attended seminary, but with my father’s death, and Harriet’s discouragement, I didn’t pursue it, and read for my law degree instead.”

“Then you should pursue it now.”

“It’s not that easy. A parish doesn’t just fall into one’s lap, unfortunately.”

“Perhaps not. But you shouldn’t give up on your dream.”

They walked a few minutes longer in silence.

“What was it you wished to tell me?” Elinor asked him as they turned at the far end of the lawn and headed back towards the house. “Before.”

“Oh, yes, that,” he said, and cleared his throat. “I…well, I wanted to say that I like you, Miss Holland, as you may – or may not – already have figured out,” he began. “I enjoy your company. You’re much easier to talk to than most women of my acquaintance. Not,” he added hastily, “that I have a large number of women in my acquaintance.”

She smiled. “I’m relieved to hear it.”

“Relieved to hear what – that I don’t have a large number of female acquaintances?”

“No,” she laughed. “Well, yes. But I’m relieved that you find me so easy to talk with. And please, call me Elinor.”

“Elinor,” he echoed, and smiled. “Of course. And you must always call me Edward.”

“Edward,” she said softly.

They walked for several more minutes, until he came to an abrupt stop and turned to face her and took her hands in his. “Miss Holland –”

“Elinor,” she chided, and blushed again as a smile dimpled her cheeks.

“Yes, of course.” His expression grew serious as he met her eyes. “Elinor, there’s something I need to talk to you about. It concerns you, and my feelings for you –”

“Edward,” Lady Violet Valentine cried, “there you are. I’ve been searching high and low for you, ever since the picnic began.”

Elinor’s heart sank like one of her mother’s failed cheese soufflés. Would Edward Ferrars
never
get a chance to tell her what was on his mind without interruption? It was seriously annoying.

“I’m sorry.” He turned to Lady Violet with a polite smile. “I don’t mean to be elusive, I assure you.”

“Of course you don’t. You have the most perfect manners of any man I’ve ever had the good fortune to know,” the older woman said stoutly. “I wouldn’t normally bother you, or deprive Miss Holland of your company, but there’s an important matter I simply must discuss with you. It concerns a livelihood I might’ve found for you…a vicarage in need of a vicar.”

“That’s amazing,” Elinor said, and turned to Edward with flushed cheeks. “We were just this minute talking about Edward’s wish to join the clergy.”

“Then I hope you’ll understand, and forgive me for taking him away from you for a bit,” Lady Violet said. “I promise to return him.”

“You make me sound like a library book,” Edward protested.

“Go ahead,” Elinor said. “I’ll see you later, I hope?”

He nodded. “Definitely, Miss Holland.” He smiled and added softly, “Or should I say, Elinor?”

***

“Miss Holland? Miss Elinor Holland?”

Elinor, seated on a picnic blanket under the shelter of a beech tree, shaded her eyes and looked up. Although the sun was at its zenith at the speaker’s back, she saw a pretty, auburn-haired young woman with a ready smile and an outstretched hand standing at the blanket’s edge.

“Yes. I’m Elinor.”

“Lucy Steele,” the girl said. “I’m Eugenia Smyth’s goddaughter.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Elinor said, and stood to take her hand. “Please, sit down.”

“Thank you.” Lucy settled herself on the blanket. “It’s a lovely picnic, isn’t it? I’m glad Mrs Smyth brought me along.”

“And did she bring Philippa, too?” Elinor wondered. “I haven’t met her yet.”

“No, I’m afraid she’s not here.” Lucy lowered her voice and leaned forward. “Philippa was invited, it’s true; but when she learned that Matthew Brandon would be here, she declined the invitation and refused to come.”

Elinor eyed her in surprise. “Oh. Well, I’m sorry to hear it. That’s unfortunate. But understandable, I suppose, in view of the…recent circumstances.”

“Yes. The poor girl! Dr Brandon broke her heart, you know. There’s some that say he only wanted to marry her for her money. She stands to inherit a tidy sum when her aunt passes, you know, although the house and grounds go entirely to her nephew, Christopher.”

Not wishing to gossip, Elinor said nothing.

“Still,” Lucy mused, and cast her a sideways glance, “it’s better to learn such things early on, before the knot’s irrevocably tied, don’t you agree?”

Elinor’s smile was polite but noncommittal.

“I’m engaged, too,” the girl confided. “To someone I’ve fancied for a long time.” Her eyes grew dreamy. “I love him, so much! But we’re keeping things quiet for the moment. Isn’t it romantic?”

“It is,” Elinor agreed. “Very romantic.”

She couldn’t help but wonder if she’d ever find herself, like Lucy Steele, engaged. Would Edward ever screw up the courage to ask her to marry him?

As Lucy chattered on, Elinor’s attention wandered, distracted as she saw the subject of their recent discussion – Matthew Brandon – take a call on his mobile. His face darkened, and after speaking a few, terse words, he thrust the phone back in his pocket. With a quick goodbye to Mrs Holland, he turned and abruptly took his leave.

Elinor frowned. “Would you excuse me?” she asked Lucy, and rose to her feet. “One of our guests is leaving. I ought to go and say goodbye.”

“Oh!” Lucy exclaimed, startled. “Of course. I completely understand. I’ll be right here, waiting –”

But Elinor hurried away without replying.

Chapter 28

“Where’s Brandon off to in such a hurry?” Willoughby wondered idly as he sprawled next to Marianne on the picnic blanket they shared.

“He probably had an after-hours emergency call.” She watched as he strode away, and found herself unaccountably sorry to see him go. “He often does.”

“Perhaps he’ll take that sheep of his along,” he said, and lifted his brow. “He takes it everywhere, like Mary with her little lamb.”

“Her name’s Emily, and she almost died, Kit,” Marianne reproved. “She was left for dead by her mother. Matthew saved her life.”

Willoughby sat up, his expression contrite, and took her hand. “Sorry, Mari,” he said softly, “I didn’t know. And I certainly didn’t mean any disrespect. Brandon’s an excellent veterinarian; anyone can see that.”

She withdrew her hand and forced her lips into a smile. “It’s okay. And no need to apologise. Most people don’t know Emily’s story.”

“No. But obviously, you do.” Although he smiled, there was a slight edge to his words. “I can’t help but wonder – is there something going on between you and Brandon? Should I be jealous?”

Marianne regarded him in surprise. “Jealous?” She laughed. “Don’t be silly. We work together, that’s all. We don’t even half like each other.”

“I’m relieved to hear it.” He smiled and took her hand once again and lifted it to his lips. “Because I don’t want to share your affections with anyone else.” He leaned forward to kiss her, and drew back. “Speaking of which,” he added in a low voice, “there’s something I have to ask you. Something important. Marianne, I –”

“Here you both are.”

Marianne looked up to see Elinor, her arm twined through Edward’s. Her sister’s eyes were shining and her cheeks wore a decided flush. Edward looked embarrassed, but pleased.

“We have the most amazing news,” Elinor said. “We couldn’t wait to share it.”

“Oh?” Marianne glanced from Edward to her sister. “Well, don’t keep us in suspense – please, tell us what it is.”

“I’ve just returned from a meeting with Lady Valentine,” Edward said. “She’s managed to secure me a parish in South Devon, in Litchfield.”

“A parish?” Marianne echoed. “In our old village? Do you mean to say that you’re to become a clergyman –?”

“Yes.” He beamed. “A vicar. It’s what I’ve always wanted. Lady Violet’s on good terms with Mr Bennet, the former vicar. With the current vicar retiring soon, he put me forward as his replacement. His recommendation has been accepted.”

“Congratulations!” Marianne surged to her feet and hugged Edward and her sister warmly in turn. “That
is
wonderful news. I’m very happy for you.”

Both of you
, she nearly said, but caught herself in time. After all, Elinor and Edward were not engaged…at least, not yet. She smiled. She could easily imagine her sister as a vicar’s wife.

“Edward has to leave soon,” Elinor said. She smiled over at him. “Tomorrow. He’s to meet with the bishop and the current vicar on Tuesday. Then he’ll get settled into the vicarage and meet his new parishioners.”

“That’s great news,” Willoughby agreed, and got to his feet and extended his hand to Edward. “My congratulations to you, Mr Ferrars.”

“Thank you.” Edward returned his handshake. “Now, if you’ll excuse us –” he took Elinor’s arm once again “Miss Holland and I need to say our goodbyes. It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr Willoughby.”

“The pleasure’s all mine, Mr Ferrars. Congratulations again, and safe journey.”

As Elinor and Edward left, Willoughby turned to Marianne. “Well. That’s great news, isn’t it? I wouldn’t be surprised if Mr Ferrars doesn’t ask your sister to marry him before long.”

“Do you really think so?” she asked.

“Oh, I’m sure of it. He’s obviously very fond of her.” He took up her hand, kissed it, and held it pressed against his chest. “Just like I am for you,” he added.

Marianne blushed and dropped her gaze. She scarcely dared to reply.

“Can I come and see you on Friday evening? I’d come over sooner, but I know you’re working at the clinic all week, and I’ll be getting ready for a competition on Saturday. Which you’re invited to, by the way,” he added.

“Oh, I’d love to go, but I can’t. I’m working. Are you entered, then?”

“No, I don’t compete much these days. No time. A friend of mine’s taking part, though. I’m putting Max through the paces this week to make sure he’s ready to win that cup.”

“Max? Max Roderick?” Marianne asked.

“Yes. Do you know him?”

“Not personally, no. Jack mentioned him at the picnic. He’s a show jumper, isn’t he?”

Kit nodded. “A very good one, too. His trainer’s in London at the moment so I’m filling in.”