Lady Knightley's Secret

‘Why, thank you, my dear! You do my ego the world of good!’ Elizabeth exclaimed, genuinely gratified by the compliment, but then became serious once more. ‘You must remember, though, that this happened years ago. Richard himself wouldn’t have been much above twenty at the time. And there could be no denying that Evadne was quite captivatingly lovely.’

The Viscountess lay quietly mulling over what she had learned, then her ever-lively and rather wicked sense of humour came to the fore and she suddenly gurgled with laughter, a delightful tinkling sound which echoed round the room.

‘No wonder Richard looked so dumbfounded earlier, but he should have remembered that plain little cygnets grow into quite regal creatures. I think he’ll consider it most fortuitous that he never married your sister. What a blunder that would have been!’

‘My dear, there was never any question of that. Evadne might have liked him very well, but she was ambitious, and had set her sights high. She wouldn’t have settled for less than a title, and Richard, you must remember, was a younger son…Which reminds me. I must offer my condolences. His brother’s death was—must have come as a bitter blow. They were very close.’

She rose from the bed. ‘And now I really must leave you, otherwise that very doting husband of yours will quite rightly take me roundly to task for keeping you from your sleep,’ and, without giving her friend the chance to argue, whisked herself from the room.

Completely satisfied now that there had been no ulterior motive in Richard’s invitation to this house, Elizabeth smiled to herself as she moved almost soundlessly along the red-carpeted passageway in the direction of her own room. She ought to have known that the darling Viscountess would never do anything so underhanded, nor indeed anything which might cause her old school-friend embarrassment. But this didn’t alter the fact, Elizabeth reminded herself, that she must remain on her mettle throughout the time Richard was here, for just one unguarded look, just one ill-chosen word, might alert the far-from-obtuse Viscountess to the true state of her friend’s rather foolish heart.

Rounding the corner, she stopped dead in her tracks and only just managed to prevent a gasp escaping as her eyes focused on the tall figure standing in the shadows only yards ahead. Her robe had fallen open and she didn’t realise that, with the candles behind her, the nightgown which modestly covered almost every inch of her became virtually transparent. But Richard was instantly aware of the fact.

The gentlemanly thing to do, of course, was to bid a swift good night and retire to his bedchamber. He swiftly discovered, however, that he was first and foremost a man, and couldn’t prevent his eyes from wandering over one of the most perfectly proportioned figures he had ever been privileged to see, dwelling with intense pleasure on the softly rounded curves and, oh, so tantalising shadows before forcing his eyes up to a sweetly curved mouth just begging to be kissed.

Only iron self-control kept him firmly rooted to the spot, but he was powerless to prevent that telltale husky note of desire from creeping into his voice as he said, ‘Miss Beresford, I thought you’d retired long since. I’m sorry if I startled you.’

‘Not at all, sir. It’s entirely my own fault for wandering about the place at this time of night.’ He watched a tentative little smile briefly curl up the corners of that delectable mouth as she glided towards the door leading to the bedchamber almost directly opposite his own. ‘I shall bid you good night, Sir Richard. I dare say we’ll see each other again in the morning.’

‘Oh, yes, Miss Beresford,’ he murmured as she disappeared into the room without another word, ‘you can be very sure of that…very, very sure.’

Chapter Three

Casting a far from appreciative eye round his allotted bedchamber, Richard rose wearily from the bed and went across to the bell-pull. He felt decidedly unrefreshed, but was only too well aware that he couldn’t blame his singular lack of sleep on unfamiliar surroundings, or on the four-poster bed which had proved both comfortable and roomy. Oh, no, the sole culprit for his insomnia lay not in this elegantly appointed room, but in the bedchamber almost directly opposite. And wasn’t that damnably frustrating in itself?

Unable to suppress a crooked half-smile, he seated himself at the dressing-table. Even now, he still found it difficult to accept that the elegantly poised young woman who had introduced herself the evening before, with all the calm self-assurance of some Grand Duchess, was the same Elizabeth Beresford he had known years ago.

Mother Nature, he mused, had wrought nothing short of a miracle there. In the space of a few short years she had transformed an unappealing nonentity into something quite out of the common way. To say that Elizabeth was the most beautiful woman he had ever clapped eyes on would be a gross exaggeration, he knew, but there was no denying that she was quite captivatingly lovely, both face and figure a delightful vista to any gentleman of superior tastes.

He experienced yet again the stirring of desire as his mind’s eye, for perhaps the hundredth time, visualised her as she had rounded the corner of the passageway the night before, seeming to float, not walk, towards him, like some enchanted, ethereal creature well above his touch. But this ought not to be the case, he reminded himself. By rights he ought to be able to touch that young woman whenever he desired; by rights she ought at this point in time to belong to him, body and soul; and he experienced a sense of acute disappointment, not to say resentment, that this was not the case.

Running slightly impatient fingers through his sleep-tousled dark brown hair, he cast his mind back over the years, trying to remember the last time he had set eyes on the young girl whom both his father and godfather had wished him to marry. His memory was hazy, but he vaguely recalled having glimpsed her at Henry Beresford’s funeral, a forlorn and solitary little figure standing quite apart from her mother and vivacious elder sister.

It must have been a year or, maybe, two later, when he had been out in the Peninsula fighting for his country, that he had received that one and only letter from her. She had considered that they were no longer obliged to comply with the wishes of their deceased fathers, and had released him completely from any obligation he might still have been harbouring to marry her.

Honesty prompted him to admit that he had experienced immense relief after reading that missive. After all, what man in his right mind was wishful to tie himself for life to a rather drab and plump female who had seemed incapable of stringing more than half a dozen words together at any one time? Of course he had felt duty-bound to write back suggesting that they wait a year or two before finally coming to a decision. He had received no further communication from her and, truth to tell, he hadn’t given Elizabeth Beresford a single thought during the intervening years…No, not one, until he had unexpectedly come face to face with her again the previous evening.

The bedchamber door opened and his valet entered, breaking into his far from satisfying reflections, and Richard managed with a modicum of success to put thoughts of Elizabeth aside. This relative peace of mind was destined not to last very long, however, for the first person he set eyes on when entering the breakfast parlour a short while later was none other than the sweet torment who had deprived him of so much sleep throughout the night.

As he seated himself at the table he experienced a rather irrational stab of irritation. He wasn’t quite certain whether this stemmed from the fact that Elizabeth, bright-eyed and cheerful, betrayed all too clearly that she hadn’t suffered from lack of sleep, or that she appeared on remarkably friendly terms with their host, who was still looking highly amused at something she had just said.

‘I trust you slept well?’ Brin enquired after a servant had supplied Richard’s needs.

‘Very,’ he lied. ‘You have a remarkably comfortable home here. It was a pleasure to sleep in a bedchamber where the fire didn’t billow out smoke every five minutes. I really must attend to the chimneys at Knightley Hall. Several of the fireplaces there are quite shocking.’

‘I recall a similar problem at my parents’ home,’ Elizabeth remarked, ‘especially when there was an east wind. Thankfully, I’m not plagued by such a nuisance at my home near Bristol.’

Richard frowned slightly at this. He had assumed, quite wrongly it seemed, that she still resided in her childhood home in Wiltshire, although he vaguely recalled learning of her mother’s demise a few years ago.

‘I wasn’t aware that you no longer resided in Wiltshire, Miss Beresford. Do you live with a relative?’

‘I did reside with my maternal grandmother. Sadly, she died last autumn.’ A veil of unhappiness clouded her eyes as she looked directly across the table at him. ‘And may I offer you my belated condolences. Some time ago I learned of your brother’s death. Such a terrible tragedy!’

Offering him no time in which to respond, Elizabeth rose to her feet and transferred her attention to their host, that spontaneous, sweet smile which had won his regard so quickly touching her lips. ‘I shall pay a visit to Verity’s room first. So, shall we meet in the stable yard—say, in half an hour’s time?’

Watching her leave the room, Brin experienced, yet again, amazement at her continued unmarried state, and shook his head in complete bewilderment. ‘I still find it difficult to understand why that lovely creature isn’t married.’

The hand raising the fork to Richard’s mouth checked for a moment. Yes, he ruminated, she most certainly ought to be. And if it wasn’t for the fact that the contrary little madam had suddenly taken it into her head to go against her deceased father’s expressed wishes, she would now be married to me!

Suddenly finding his appetite had deserted him, he pushed his plate aside and turned to his host as a thought suddenly occurred to him. ‘Am I right in thinking that Miss Beresford’s sister resides not too far from here?’

‘Yes, about three miles away.’

In that case, why hadn’t Elizabeth chosen to stay with her? Richard wondered. She could quite easily have visited her friend the Viscountess whenever she wished. Evadne must surely feel affronted knowing that her sister had preferred to stay here. Why, it was tantamount to a direct snub!

‘I hope Verity has remembered to warn Elizabeth that Lady Chiltham is not an infrequent visitor,’ Brin continued, and failed to notice his friend’s rather puzzled expression. ‘Apparently the sisters don’t get along too well. But, then, you’d know all about that, I dare say, your being a friend of the family.’

‘No, I didn’t know,’ Richard freely admitted, and was rather intrigued by this snippet of information. ‘Up until yesterday evening I hadn’t set eyes on either of them since the day of their father’s funeral.’

‘Well, no doubt you’ll be given ample opportunity to renew your acquaintanceship with Lady Chiltham during your stay with us. As I’ve already mentioned, she’s not an infrequent caller,’ Brin responded, his tone betraying clearly enough that he could wish it were quite otherwise.

Not offering his friend the opportunity to enquire further into the reason behind the sisters’ antipathy, Brin rose to his feet. ‘I’m an appalling host, deserting you like this on your first morning here, but if I don’t hurry and change, Elizabeth will be kept waiting.’ He made to leave, then checked as a most obvious solution occurred to him. ‘Why not join us? I’m taking Elizabeth on a tour round the estate.’

Richard needed no second prompting. Grand though it undoubtedly was, the estate was of precious little interest to him; Elizabeth Beresford, on the other hand, most definitely was. So he wasted no time in returning to his room to change into his riding gear, and accompanied Brin outside to the stables a short while later to discover Elizabeth, becomingly attired in a bottle-green habit, which seemed to emphasise those gorgeous red tones in her hair, already mounted on her ladyship’s chestnut filly.

‘You are a rare female, indeed,’ her host remarked approvingly, ‘One of the few I’ve ever known who can be on time!’ He glanced briefly in Richard’s direction, watched him mount the handsome bay, and then turned back to Elizabeth with a conspiratorial wink. ‘You do realise that we’re going to be made to look a pair of veritable whipsters in the company of the man who was reputed to be the finest horseman in Wellington’s army.’

Elizabeth couldn’t prevent a chuckle at Richard’s pained expression. ‘I am well aware of his prowess, sir. My father was not infrequently heard to remark that his godson could ride before he could walk.’

‘A gross exaggeration!’ Richard put in before either of them could utter any further absurdities at his expense. ‘This is a fine animal you have here, Brin,’ he went on, quickly changing the subject and giving the bay’s neck a fond pat.

‘I acquired him a couple of months ago. Yes, I’m rather pleased with him myself,’ he admitted as they all trotted out of the stable yard. ‘Do you still possess that brute you had with you in Spain?’

‘Sultan…? Sadly, no. The poor old fellow was shot from beneath me at Waterloo.’ Richard saw Elizabeth pale visibly, and cursed himself for an insensitive clod. ‘I’m so sorry, Miss Beresford. We seasoned campaigners tend to reminisce at the drop of a hat and frequently forget we’re in mixed company.’

‘My fault entirely,’ Brin interposed, feeling extremely guilty for raising the subject in the first place. ‘Dashed thoughtless thing for me to have said, considering your own experiences in Brussels last year.’

‘You do me too much honour, sir,’ Elizabeth countered with a dismissive wave of her hand. ‘Like so many other faint-hearted souls, my one and only desire after hearing that first distant rumble of cannon fire was to make a bolt for the nearest port.’

Brin didn’t know which shocked him more: Elizabeth’s frivolous, and far from truthful, response, or Richard’s openly contemptuous smirk in reaction to it. He was about to set his friend straight on the matter when his thoughts suddenly turned in an entirely different direction as he spotted his steward, in the company of one of his tenants, approaching them.

‘It looks as if my presence is required elsewhere.’ He cast them an apologetic smile. ‘Would you be good enough to accompany Elizabeth, Richard? Hopefully, I shouldn’t be too long and shall catch up with you both later.’

Although he was far from content to remain for long in the company of a female whom, with a complete turnabout of his former opinion, he now suspected of being quite light-minded, he politely agreed, but Elizabeth swiftly began to rise in his estimation again when she proved herself to be a very competent horsewoman. She handled the far-from-docile filly with praiseworthy ease, her light hands, deceptively, in full control.

‘I cannot recall ever seeing you ride before, Miss Beresford,’ he remarked as they headed towards the western boundary of the estate.

At this, her lips curled into the strangest little smile. ‘No, I don’t suppose for a moment that you can, sir. But, then, I doubt there’s very much you do remember about me.’

Although she had spoken lightly enough, without so much as a hint of pique in her soft and very pleasant voice, he seriously suspected that he had just received a reprimand and didn’t know whether to feel amused or annoyed by it.

After a moment’s deliberation he chose to be diverted. ‘Ungallant though it is of me to confess to it but, no, I don’t recall very much about you, ma’am. But, then, in my defence, I had little contact with you when you were a child, and it has been several years since we last met.’

‘Seven, to be exact.’

Little baggage! Was she deliberately trying to set him at a disadvantage? Or was it simply that she refused to indulge in the gentle art of dissimulation? Again he found himself more amused than annoyed, and not just a little intrigued as well.

‘Yes, of course, it was.’ He risked a sidelong glance in her direction, registered with a feeling of irritation that she was looking perfectly composed and experienced the most overwhelming desire to penetrate that shroud of cool dignity which seemed to be wrapped around her and glimpse the real essence of the woman beneath. ‘It was on the very sad occasion of your father’s funeral. If my memory serves me correctly, that was the last time I saw your sister too.’ He gazed intently at her delightful profile. ‘I hope she is in good health?’

‘Very, as far as I know.’ She turned her head to look at him then, and couldn’t prevent a smile at the quizzical lift of one dark brow. ‘Ours could never be described as a close family, sir. I became estranged from both my mother and sister when I chose to live with my maternal grandmother. Evadne did take the trouble to inform me of my mother’s demise, and I wrote to her last autumn informing her of our grandmother’s passing, but apart from those two instances, there has been no communication between us, verbal or otherwise, for several years.’

Because he had been so close to his own brother, he felt rather saddened to learn this, and not just a little appalled at Elizabeth’s seeming indifference to the state of affairs which existed between her and her sister. He decided, however, that it would be wrong of him to make a snap judgement on a situation about which he knew next to nothing, and changed the subject by enquiring if she now had a companion living with her to bear her company.

‘No, I live quite alone, except for the servants, that is. Oh, and Aggie, of course! But I don’t consider her a servant, even though she is my personal maid,’ she explained when he looked a trifle bewildered. ‘You perhaps wouldn’t remember her, but she was employed in my father’s household. She has known me since the day I was born, and is quite touchingly devoted.’ He found the rather wistful little smile which accompanied the admission most engaging. ‘I must say, Sir Richard, it is rather wonderful having someone around who is so concerned for my well-being, but she does tend to fuss over me like a mother hen.’

He tactfully refrained from voicing his staunch disapproval of a young lady of quality living alone and, as they made their way along the high ridge which formed the western boundary of his lordship’s land, encouraged her to talk about those years she had lived with her grandmother.

It didn’t take him long to discover that she had been touchingly devoted to her grandparent. She could not speak highly enough of the lady who had, through sheer determination and hard work, built up a thriving company, owning several sailing ships which had travelled to distant points on the globe, and who had died one of the richest women in Bristol.

As he listened he vaguely recalled his father once remarking on the fact that a substantial dowry was the only thing that had made Elizabeth’s mother acceptable to the younger son of an earl. Many of the top Ten Thousand still looked down on those who had any connection with trade, and he found himself admiring Elizabeth’s total lack of snobbery or embarrassment over her maternal grandparent’s humble origins. It was quite evident that she felt nothing but admiration for her grandmother’s businesslike acumen, and didn’t shy away from the fact that she owed her comfortable existence, now, to that woman’s hard-working life.

‘I wish I had had the pleasure of making her acquaintance,’ he remarked with total sincerity when she fell silent. ‘You make her sound a very interesting character.’

‘Oh, she was! There’s no denying she was a hard-headed businesswoman, as shrewd as they come, but there was a softer side to her nature too. She fell in love with my grandfather when she had just turned eighteen. Their marriage lasted such a tragically short length of time, less than six years, but she never married again, even though she received numerous offers throughout her life. She told me once that we were alike in that…that we were destined to love only once.’

For a brief moment he glimpsed a faraway look in her eyes, then she seemed to collect herself and looked at him with that completely unforced smile of hers, which never failed to reach her eyes, igniting a sparkle in those lovely grey-green depths.

‘My apologies, Sir Richard. You must think my tongue runs on wheels. I’ve done nothing but chatter about myself since we began our ride.’

Drawing her filly to a halt, she gazed at the rippling stream gurgling its way along the shallow valley below. ‘How beautiful it is here! Brin and Verity seem very contented in their new home, but they must find the landscape vastly different from their native Yorkshire.’

Richard, too, cast his eyes over the hilly terrain. ‘The more I travel about this glorious land of ours, the more I come to realise that each county possesses its own individual charm and beauty.’

‘Mmm.’ Elizabeth frowned suddenly. ‘I ought to travel more. It’s a dreadful thing to confess, but I’ve never ventured further north than Gloucester. I’ve always wanted to visit Scotland, and I could take in other places on the way—the Peaks, and the Lake District, to name but two. Late spring or early summer would be the ideal time to travel, don’t you agree?’

‘Emphatically no, Miss Beresford!’ he astounded her by responding in forthright tones. ‘Your father was my godfather, so I suppose I’m the closest you’ve ever had to a brother. Therefore, I do not scruple to tell you that it would not only be extremely foolhardy, but grossly improper for you to embark on such a venture without the support and guidance of some male relative.’

He could easily discern a look of combined annoyance and astonishment in her eyes, and was not just a little surprised himself that he had tried to interfere in something which was, after all, none of his concern. He was surprised, too, and not just a little bewildered by the totally unexpected and overwhelming desire he was experiencing to protect this young woman who was quite evidently battling against the very understandable compulsion to tell him to mind his own business.

‘I think, sir,’ Elizabeth said with careful restraint, ‘that it might be wise if we made our way back now. It doesn’t look as if Brin will be joining us, and I think if we are left alone together for very much longer we shall be in the gravest danger of coming to cuffs.’

His response was to throw his head back and roar with laughter, which only succeeded in annoying her further, but by the time they had arrived back at the Dartwoods’ charming country residence genial relations had once again been restored.

As she walked with Richard towards the house, Elizabeth was vaguely aware that there was a carriage standing in the courtyard, but gave not a single thought to the possible identity of the person who had called, until she entered her bedchamber and saw the disgruntled look on her maid’s face.

‘And what has put you out of temper this morning, Aggie? Had a difference of opinion with one of her ladyship’s servants, have we?’

‘To hear you talk, Miss Elizabeth, anyone would think I was the kind of odiously bossy female who always tried to rule the roost.’

‘And so you are!’ Elizabeth returned, never having put a guard on her tongue where Agatha was concerned. ‘Well, out with it, then!’ she encouraged when her maid regarded her in tight-lipped indignation. ‘If it wasn’t one of the servants then who, or what, has sent you into a fit of the sullens?’

‘Her ladyship has a visitor,’ Agatha unlocked her mouth to announce in tones of dire foreboding.

‘Ha! I begin to see daylight.’ Peeling off her habit, Elizabeth regarded the maid with an understanding smile. ‘So, darling Evadne is here, is she? Well, we knew it would be only a matter of time.’ A hint of mischief sparkled in her eyes. ‘Do you know, Aggie, Wellington could have done with your services during the Peninsular Campaign. You would have made an excellent spy. You possess the most uncanny knack of discovering things with quite remarkable speed,’ but Agatha refused to be diverted and looked at her mistress in some concern.