Engagement of Convenience

‘His estate.’ Julia threw the rosemary sprig on the ground, crushing it beneath her half-boot. ‘What does he know of running Knollwood?’

She’d burned the hateful parchment after reading it, watching with delight as the neat script crumpled and charred in the flames. However, all the burned letters couldn’t stop her brother from claiming his inheritance.

Pausing at the small pond in the centre of the garden, she stared into the dark water. Goldfish flitted beneath the glass surface, failing to disturb the reflection of the thick clouds passing overhead.

Why should he have Knollwood? Tears of frustration stung her eyes. He’s never taken an interest in it the way I have.

Nor did he appreciate all her hard work to keep it prosperous. Only Father and Paul had ever recognised it, but with Paul serving with Admiral Nelson’s fleet and Father—

No, she commanded herself, refusing to cry. Tears would not help her deal with Charles.

Heading up the garden path, she passed her mother’s cherished rose garden, then hurried up the stairs of the column-lined stone portico leading to the back sitting room.

‘Good morning, Miss Howard,’ Davies, the butler, greeted, pulling open the large French door.

‘Good morning.’ She handed him her gloves and he held out a small paper-covered parcel.

‘This arrived from Mr Charles Howard.’

‘My book.’ She tore off the wrapper to reveal a leather-bound copy of The Monk. ‘I can’t believe Charles sent it. He’s always so concerned about not disturbing my delicate female mind. It’s fortunate he doesn’t know the half of what Paul tells me.’

‘Yes, very fortunate indeed,’ Davies solemnly concurred. He’d been Paul’s valet when Paul still lived at Knollwood, making him well acquainted with her brother’s nature and most of his escapades.

‘Has Uncle George returned from London yet?’

‘Captain Russell arrived a short while ago to collect Percy and speak with Mrs Emily Howard. He’s returned to Creedon Abbey to see to the repairs.’

‘Uncle George was here and didn’t wait for me?’

‘No, miss, but it appears we are to expect another gentleman.’

‘Who?’

‘Mrs Howard did not say, but she instructed me to open Paul’s room for him.’

Julia chafed at the news. ‘When is he arriving?’

‘This afternoon.’

‘Thank you, Davies. Please tell Mrs Howard I won’t be joining her for breakfast.’

‘Yes, miss.’

Julia walked down the hall to the study, determined to avoid the breakfast room no matter how many lectures it might create. What right did Emily have to make decisions at Knollwood? The maids and footmen were stretched thin enough with Uncle George staying here and all her stepcousins’ demands.

Crossing the study’s large, woven rug, Julia sighed. Emily, as Charles’s wife, had every right to invite whomever she pleased, even if it did mean additional work for Julia and the staff. For a moment she imagined herself mistress of her own home, free to make decisions and live without her brother’s censure, then dismissed the thought. Once Charles took control, he’d soon realise the limitations of his estate management skills, or return to London for Parliament in the spring, leaving Knollwood in Julia’s hands once again. Or so she hoped. Her brother had a habit of being very stubborn.

She sat down behind the large, mahogany desk situated at the far end of the study. High bookcases lined one wall while south-facing windows with a view of the garden dominated the other. A tall, wooden bookstand supporting a fine atlas stood guard near the window, flanked by two leather chairs. Her father had decorated the room, choosing every element down to each book. From here he conducted all family business, patiently bearing Charles’s sermons about the proper education for Julia, dealing with one of Paul’s many near scandals or teaching Julia to run Knollwood.

It’d happened by accident, after she’d fled here one day to avoid drawing lessons. Sitting with her father while he reviewed the figures, she’d asked questions and he’d answered them, noticing her interest. The next day, he’d invited her to join him again and it became their habit. In the afternoons, they’d ride the estate, speaking with the workers and learning their methods and the land. Then, one day, he told her to do the figures, allowed her to sit in the room while he met with the overseer and gave her correspondence to read and answer. No one in the family except Charles questioned her strange education and Father would laugh him off, saying he wasn’t about to lose his best manager because she was a girl.

Julia smiled at the memory, then opened the large, leather-bound ledger. Settling herself over the accounts, she reviewed the figures, wrinkling her nose at the increased expenditures brought on by her stepcousins’ visit. Closing the ledger, she gathered up the large bundle of letters resting on the corner of the desk. She read through the missives, the minute details of the dairy and reports from the tenant farmers helping her forget the excitement of the morning.

Chapter Two

The study door swung open, startling Julia, and her pencil slipped, leaving a dark mark across two rows of figures.

‘Yes?’ she answered testily as Davies entered the room.

‘Captain Russell and his guest have arrived.’

Tossing down the pencil, she sat back in the chair, needing just a few more minutes to finish balancing the accounts. ‘They’re early.’

‘I believe they are on time.’

She looked at the windows, finally noticing how the sun and shadows had shifted in the garden and the room. ‘How long have I been working?’

‘All morning, Miss Howard.’

‘Then I’d better hurry and join them or I’ll never know a moment’s peace with Emily.’ Closing the ledger, she stood and started for the door. ‘Though I know Uncle George won’t mind my being late. He isn’t one for formality.’

‘Excuse me, Miss Howard...’ Davies coughed ‘...perhaps a change of dress is advisable.’

She stopped, inspecting the riding habit skirt, her loose hair falling over her face. Bits of leaves stuck to the honey-coloured fabric, making the damp hem noticeable and emphasising the creases along with the habit’s older style. She hardly ever wore this habit, but she’d soiled her better one yesterday by taking Manfred over a fence and through the mud on the other side. Had she seen the puddle, she wouldn’t have jumped him.

‘I’ll never hear the end of it if Emily catches me greeting guests in such a state. Where are they?’

‘The morning room.’

‘Do you think I can sneak upstairs and change before she sees me?’

‘It is quite possible, Miss Howard.’

‘We shall see.’

She hurried from the study and down the corridor. Approaching the entrance hall, she crept over the stone floor to the stairs, listening to Uncle George’s robust laughter followed by the deep tones of the other gentleman in the morning room. The stranger’s voice sounded oddly familiar, but she didn’t dare peek inside for fear of being seen. Stealing past the open door, she turned the corner to slip upstairs, coming face to face with her sister-in-law.

‘What are you doing in your riding habit?’ Emily demanded in hushed tones, her delicate eyes darting nervously to the morning room. ‘And your hair? You can’t welcome your guests looking like a dairy maid.’

‘My guests?’

‘Never mind. We’ll say you were out riding and then you can meet the captain now before Uncle George drags him off for who knows how long.’ Emily pulled her in front of the gilded mirror beneath the stairs and out of sight of the door.

‘Did you say Uncle George’s guest is a captain?’ Julia winced as Emily untangled a small twig from her hair.

‘Yes, Captain Covington.’

‘Uncle George’s friend from Tortuga?’ Julia twisted around to face Emily before her sister-in-law gently spun her back to the mirror, dividing her hair into three sections, then working them into a braid.

‘Yes, I believe so.’

Julia forced down a frustrated sigh. Single gentlemen were a rarity at Knollwood and Julia could practically see Emily’s matchmaking machinations. It was the only explanation for why she insisted on this hurried first meeting. Apparently, she didn’t know as much about Uncle George’s friend as Julia did or she wouldn’t be so excited, or eager to make the introduction. ‘Well, if Captain Covington is to stay with us, I’d better instruct Davies to lock up the brandy.’

‘Captain Covington isn’t that kind of gentleman.’

‘Then I’d better lock up the maids.’

‘Julia!’ Emily stared at her in the mirror, her pale face alight with shock. ‘Young ladies shouldn’t know about such things.’

Thankfully Paul thinks I should. If Emily and Charles ever learned the full extent of what Paul had told her, they’d probably chaperon their every conversation.

Emily smoothed the sturdy wool of Julia’s habit, picking off stray leaves, her hands fluttering while she worked.

‘You received another letter from Charles, didn’t you?’ Julia asked. Emily’s concern for propriety always increased after a letter from her husband.

Emily blushed, pink spreading from her cheeks to her light blonde hair. ‘Am I so obvious?’

‘I’m afraid so.’

‘It’s only because we want to see you well settled.’

‘No, it’s because Charles thinks I don’t act like a proper lady and such behaviour will cause a scandal and hurt his career in Parliament.’

Emily laid a motherly hand on Julia’s shoulder. ‘Your brother loves you and only wants to see you happy.’

Despite the well-meaning remark, Julia wasn’t ready to concede defeat. ‘I’m happy as I am.’

Emily moved behind Julia, fastening the braid into a small bun at the nape of her neck. ‘I know, but time doesn’t stand still. Some day you may want more.’

‘What about Simon and Annette? They aren’t greeting Uncle George. Why not censure them?’

‘It’s not my place to comment on their conduct.’ Emily frowned and pulled her lips tight. ‘They are both indisposed and will be down later.’

Julia bit back a sharp retort about the two of them always being indisposed when another idea came to mind. ‘Perhaps I can speak to Captain Covington about Paul’s promotion. Maybe he knows someone in the Admiralty who can arrange for Paul to get his own ship. I can’t believe he didn’t receive a command. If I ever find the man who wrote his bad recommendation—’

‘I’m sure your brother is capable of managing his own affairs,’ her mother interrupted, descending the stairs. Her grey eyes took in Julia, neither approving nor disapproving of her attire. Under her arm Charlemagne, her King Charles spaniel, panted, his pink tongue dangling from his mouth. Mother swept into the morning room, her plain dress whispering about her legs, her dark hair flecked with grey pulled neatly into a twist at the back of her head. Julia envied Mother’s refined presence and decorum, wondering how many difficulties she could have avoided if fate had given her even a small portion of Mother’s poise.

Emily, eager to fulfil her duties as hostess and, Julia thought, to fling her in the captain’s path, guided Julia to the morning room. ‘Come along. We’ve kept our guest waiting long enough.’

Inside, Mother exchanged pleasantries with Uncle George and the captain, who stood with his back to Julia.

‘Your lands are some of the best I’ve seen,’ he complimented, the rich, familiar voice vibrating through Julia. She noticed the dark hair curling just above the collar of his uniform and the way the sunlight falling through the window highlighted the deep-red tones.

The stranger! A sudden rush of excitement mixed with fear jolted her and she froze just over the threshold.

‘Are you all right?’ Emily whispered and Julia shook her head, taking a large step back.

‘No, I think I should change.’ He’d seen her riding without a groom. If he mentioned it to Emily, there’d be no end to the reprimands.

‘It’s too late now.’ Emily gripped her arm tight to keep her from fleeing as she motioned to Uncle George.

‘And here is the party responsible for Knollwood’s prosperity.’ Uncle George ushered the captain to them. ‘Captain Covington, Miss Julia Howard.’

If she had thought him handsome in plain hunting clothes, he took her breath away in uniform. The dark coat with the gold epaulettes emphasised his wide shoulders and the powerful presence she had felt in the forest. Without the advantage of Manfred’s height, she had to look up at him. Though not overly tall, he stood a good head above her. The fantasy of being swept into his arms filled her mind once again and she swallowed hard.

‘A pleasure.’ He bowed.

Her eyes travelled the length of him as he straightened. Well-muscled calves stretched his hose tight while slightly looser breeches could not hide his strong thighs and other unmentionable areas. Feeling her cheeks burn, Julia focused on his face as she held out her hand. ‘Captain Covington, welcome to Knollwood.’

He wrapped his fingers lightly around hers, then swept his lips across the bare knuckles. Julia drew in a ragged breath, trying not to tremble. The white-trimmed collar of the coat framed his now clean-shaven face and she curled her fingers slightly around his to stop herself from tracing the smooth line of his jaw.

‘Good morning, Artemis.’ His breath tickled the back of her hand and her body tightened in shock. ‘I assume I am no longer trespassing on your land?’

She leaned closer, inhaling the earthy smell of his lavender shaving soap. ‘That remains to be seen.’

He squeezed her hand, then let go. Julia stepped back, very aware of Emily shifting from foot to foot behind him.

‘Have you two met before?’ Emily asked in a high voice.

‘I had the privilege of encountering Miss Howard while she was riding in the forest this morning,’ Captain Covington explained, oblivious to the trouble he’d just caused.

Julia braced herself for the coming scolding, wishing the captain had held his tongue.

‘You were riding without the groom again?’ Emily asked, the nervous quaver in her voice more irritating than a bur in a boot.

‘No, the groom was with her,’ James lied before Julia could answer. ‘But I’m afraid I failed to properly introduce myself and she mistook me for a poacher.’

Julia gaped at him, surprised he’d lie for her after the way she’d addressed him in the woods.

‘George left no detail untold regarding your management,’ he continued. ‘You have quite an estate. I’m very impressed.’

‘Thank you,’ she faltered, the compliment catching her off guard. Usually gentlemen scoffed at her unusual accomplishment. ‘I’m quite protective of it, as you may have gathered.’

‘Indeed. I’ve never met such a fearsome protector of woodland creatures in all my life.’

‘I’m sure many innocent creatures need protection from Navy men.’

Emily inhaled sharply and Uncle George snorted out a laugh while her mother continued to pet Charlemagne, barely noting the exchange.

The captain’s lips tightened in an attempt to keep from laughing and suddenly Julia regretted her impudent tongue. With all she knew of him from Uncle George’s stories, to fire off such forward remarks, no matter how innocent, might give him the wrong impression and it wasn’t very gracious, especially after he’d lied to help her.

‘Shall we sit down?’ Emily interrupted, nervously studying Julia and the captain.

‘Yes, thank you.’ He allowed Emily to escort him to the sofa and chairs near the window, her mother following close behind.

Julia stayed by the door, hoping she could slip away without Emily noticing. Decorum dictated she stay and entertain the captain, but something about him unnerved her. It was one thing to speak so frankly to family, quite another with a stranger, no matter how well he knew Uncle George. Better to leave now than risk another slip.

‘I see you hiding there.’ Uncle George came up alongside her, thumbs hooked in his jacket lapel.

‘I’m not hiding.’

‘Then come and join us.’

Julia smiled half-heartedly, watching the captain as he answered one of Mother’s questions, his smile steady as he spoke. Whatever the captain thought of her unconventional behaviour, he’d already forgotten it. Deep down, some part of her wanted him to notice her, the way he had in the woods. As if sensing her, he shifted in the chair, meeting her eyes, and she turned to Uncle George.

‘No, I have business to attend to.’

‘Leave it for later. I think you’ll enjoy the captain. You two already have quite the rapport.’ He tugged her ear playfully, the way he’d done since she was a child.

The friendly gesture usually made her smile. Today it increased the irritation chewing at her. ‘My work can’t wait.’

‘If you insist. But you can’t hide at Knollwood for ever. Eventually, you’ll have to get out in the world and live.’

‘I’m not hiding,’ Julia protested.

‘Of course not. Silly of me to say it.’ He patted her arm. ‘Go back to the study. I’ll make your excuses.’

Julia left, pausing a moment to listen to the muffled voices, suddenly feeling very alone. Walking through the back sitting room, she took in the sturdy walls of Knollwood covered in hunting prints and old portraits of well-dressed ancestors. Here she felt safe and, when not entertaining guests, confident in herself. Anywhere else she felt awkward and unsettled. What would happen if Charles took this away from her?

She slipped out of the French doors and crossed the garden to the far corner where the tall boxwood hedges hid her from the house. At the centre of this private courtyard stood a fountain of a man and woman locked in a passionate kiss, a copy of some nameless Greek statue. It had been a gift to their father from Paul after his first visit to Greece. Having no use for the statue in the house, her father had it made into a fountain, scandalising Charles, who insisted on hiding it in this secluded corner.

Julia plunked down on the stone bench in front of the fountain, watching the water run over the naked marble bodies. The polished stone glistened in the noon sun, intensifying the urgency of the lovers’ embrace. The man’s fingers dug into the hard flesh of the woman’s thigh, his hands entwined in her hair as she pressed her naked form against his. Her long, gracefully carved fingers rested against the taut muscles of the male’s well-chiselled back. Studying the lovers’ embrace, their bodies so close not even water could separate them, Julia felt her chest constrict. What would it be like to inspire such passion in a man?

Picking up a small stone, she flung it into the pool at the base of the fountain, sending a large splash up and over the side. Reaching down for another rock, she heard the pitter-patter of paws on gravel as Charlemagne barrelled down on her. The small dog threw his front paws up on her knees, his wagging tail shaking his whole body as Julia stroked his soft fur.

‘I thought I’d find you here,’ her mother said, scooping up Charlemagne and sitting down next to her.

‘Did Emily send you here to chastise me for not being a perfect lady?’

‘Emily is a sweet girl, good for Charles and I adore her,’ her mother remarked, settling the wiggling dog on her lap. ‘But I seldom listen to her advice or Charles’s. I suggest you do the same.’

‘I’ve tried, but it only makes them more persistent.’

‘Yes, he takes after your grandfather in that regard.’ Charlemagne refused to be still and Mother put him on the ground. ‘You’re worried about Charles taking over Knollwood, aren’t you?’

Like Uncle George, Mother could be very direct and Julia found it both helpful and at times hindering. She watched Charlemagne sniff around the fountain, jumping back when an errant bead of water landed on his nose.

‘When he does, what will I do?’ Julia choked, digging the toe of her boot into the ground.

‘I think you’ll find something. You’re much more resourceful than either Charles or Paul.’

‘But what else could there possibly be for me?’

Her mother took Julia’s face in her hands, pushing a strand of hair off of her cheek. ‘That’s up to you to discover.’

She kissed Julia’s forehead, then rose, snapping her fingers at Charlemagne.

‘Do I hide from the world here?’ Julia asked before her mother could leave.

‘Who put such an idea in your head?’

‘Uncle George.’

The older woman laughed softly. ‘Since when do you take my brother seriously?’

Julia shrugged. ‘Emily and Charles are always saying it, in their own way.’

‘I think only you know the answer.’ She strolled out of the garden, Charlemagne close on her heels.

* * *

The quick click of a lady’s perturbed step drew James to the morning-room door. Miss Howard strode into the entrance hall, moving like a tempest, oblivious to everything but her own energy. Fascinated, he wanted to draw her out, but hesitated. Better to let her go than risk the blunt blow of her dark mood. However, something in the troubled frown on her pretty face prompted him to speak.

‘Miss Howard?’

The stomping girl vanished, replaced by an awkward young woman conscious of the world around her. ‘Yes?’

She stood on the bottom stair, one small hand on the oak banister, poised like a doe to flee. He wondered what had happened to make such an exuberant creature so timid. ‘I want to apologise for this morning. You took me quite by surprise.’

‘Yes, I imagine I did.’ She moved to leave, but he wasn’t ready to let her go.

‘I don’t usually meet young ladies in the forest so early in the morning.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me who you were?’ she demanded with startling directness.

‘You didn’t ask,’ he laughed, his mirth evaporating under her stern glare. ‘Allow me to apologise. I should have introduced myself.’ He offered a humble bow, but it did not soften the small crease marring her smooth brow.

‘I wish you had for it might have saved us both a great deal of trouble.’

‘I shall endeavour to be more agreeable to you the next time we meet in a forest.’ The image of them alone among the trees, her hair loose about her naked shoulders, their bodies entwined came to mind. His hand itched to reach up and trace the gentle curve of her cheek, slip his fingers behind her long neck and draw her close.

‘There will be no next time,’ she corrected, ending the pleasant fantasy.

‘I think it quite possible,’ he teased. ‘Judging by this morning, I assume it is your habit to ride out alone in the mornings.’

‘Shh.’ She stepped closer, waving a silencing hand and filling the air between them with the faint scent of rosemary.

‘Your mother doesn’t approve of you riding alone?’ he asked in a low voice.

‘Mother doesn’t care, but Emily does.’ She stepped off the stair and stood in front of him, her face softening. ‘Thank you for not telling her you saw me riding without a groom. You spared me a great deal of trouble.’

‘It was my pleasure, and I’ll gladly do it again if the need arises.’

‘I hope it doesn’t come to that.’ She smiled, her face glowing with amusement.

‘You’re very pretty when you smile,’ he offered without thinking, amazed at how much her pleasure delighted him.

Her smile disappeared and she raised one disbelieving eyebrow. Something of the confident Artemis he’d seen this morning flashed in her hazel eyes, rousing his blood.

‘I know the country is lacking in diversions, but do not think to amuse yourself with me.’

James straightened, forgetting his desire. He should have been insulted, but he could hardly blame her for saying what he’d momentarily imagined. ‘You misunderstood my meaning. I have never, would never behave as you intimate.’

She fixed him with the same scrutinising look he once used on seamen when they told him a tall tale to cover their misdeeds. ‘I am not naïve, Captain. My brother and uncle tell me everything, so I know what Navy men are about.’

‘Do you?’ He struggled to keep the laughter out of his voice, still unable to believe a young woman with her hair pulled back like a dour nun could be so forward. He leaned against the wooden banister, bringing their faces much closer than intended. She did not step back. ‘I may have to change your opinion of Navy men.’