| |
Flint had soon learned that the best and most accessible whisky was in the library. It seemed that his first assumption that the duke had had the whisky put out for his guests had been wrong and that the whisky was in fact for the man himself. More than once in the past two days he had encountered the duke while Flint ventured there to have yet another drink. Because apparently drinking was what helped when trying to keep away from Lady Hester.
Today however it was not her stern and aloof father that he encountered, but Addinggrove. Flint was reminded of the conversation that he had meant to have with his brother-in-law the first day they arrived. Now would be a splendid time he thought as he poured himself three fingers of whisky and sat down opposite his brother-in-law who seemed to be going over a lengthy letter.
“I have been wanting to discuss Sophia’s condition with you,” Flint told the other man without waiting for him to finish the letter.
Addinggrove slowly looked up from the letter and stared at him for a moment.
“As far as I am concerned you have nothing to do with her condition,” he stated in a voice that clearly told Flint that he should not mettle in the other man’s affairs, but:
“She is my sister, Addinggrove. I cannot cease worrying, simply because she is married.”
“There is nothing to worry about,” Addinggrove stated, slowly folding the letter and placing it in a pocket in his jacket.
“She seems exhausted. I have seen more than once that she has difficulty remaining awake at night – and she fell asleep in the nursery the first day,” Flint said and fought to keep his voice level.
“The Duchess and the other matrons have all said that it is perfectly natural to be more tired while expecting,” Addinggrove shot back.
Flint folded his arms across his chest, even though he knew how the gesture would be perceived and it was the complete opposite of what he wanted to achieve.
“You should not have indulged her in coming here. You should have remained in London, where you could be close to the physicians and...”
“There is a doctor in the village,” Addinggrove interrupted.
“You cannot be serious that you would put my sister’s life in the hands of a country doctor!” Flint exclaimed.
Addinggrove’s jaw worked several times before he spoke.
“I am not risking Sophia’s life, I never would. She is pregnant, Flint, not dying. I know that you lost your mother in childbirth, but...”
Flint stood up abruptly. He had no desire whatsoever to discuss his mother or the consequences of her death.
“I cannot believe that you would risk it again. You have Arthur; he is a perfectly healthy and happy boy.”
Addinggrove huffed mirthlessly.
“You talk about it as if it is my decision alone. As if I have forced this on your sister. If you must know, Sophia wanted another child as well. In fact, we have been hoping for one for several years.” His brother-in-law rose and walked to one of the large windows that faced the courtyard between the two wings.
At least he was far enough away that Flint would not be intimidated by his impressive, unnatural height. Sometimes Flint thought the man had grown this tall simply to annoy others.
“We are family, Lambourn, and I want us to be on friendly terms, but I will not have you interfere in how I treat my wife, nor what she can and cannot do,” Addinggrove said in a low voice as he turned from the window towards Flint.
Flint clenched both his fists and his jaw. If the man would only listen...
“It is obvious that Sophia needs rest, not playing matchmaker for Lady Hester.”
“She is her best friend,” Addinggrove interrupted him.
“I realize that. And I am happy for Sophia that she has such a close friend, but since she is pregnant, she needs to think of her own needs first. And those of her baby.”
“And she does,” Sophia’s ice-cold voice came from the doorway. “I would never put anything over the health and wellbeing of my children,” she continued as she walked into the room to stand next to Addinggrove. Their hands found each other as if on instinct as if they were facing a common enemy.
Flint closed his eyes, trying to think of any way to make them understand that he was not trying to interfere in their affairs, but simply looking out for his younger sister. Out of care. Out of love for her.
“I’m not Mother, Flint, not all women die in childbirth,” Sophia stated gently, much closer to him than Flint had thought she was, which had him open his eyes and look at her.
“I realize that not all women die in childbirth, but I still believe that you could be more careful. There is no need for you to go on excursions like the hunt or trips to the village, nor on walks in the garden,” Flint pleaded with her.
Sophia’s hand landed on his arm. She was about a head shorter than him, and he had to look down when she was this close to him.
“I am being careful. I am doing all I can to protect myself and my child.” She paused and took a deep breath. “And this is the last time I will tell you this. I know that you are my older brother, and the protectiveness that it brings probably never goes away, but you need to keep it to yourself from now on. And not voice your concerns with me or my husband. You need to trust that we are handling this situation in an appropriate manner, and if you are not able to trust it, then at least accept that it is our decision.”
Flint gulped as he looked into her dark brown eyes. He knew she was right. Logically he knew it, but he had lost too many family members already. Just the thought of losing her almost made him tear up in front of her. He took a deep breath to steady himself.
“I will try,” he forced out because that was honestly all that he could promise.
***
Hester slowed her steps as she approached the morning room where the buffet for luncheon had been put out. She listened intently to the mumbling voices from within as she slowly walked closer.
After having risen at five and then been out of doors for three hours, despite the drizzle, she was famished now. She had eaten the contents of Cook’s basket under a willow, wondering exactly whether pneumonia was better than running into Lord Lambourn again. But each time she analyzed the dilemma she ended at the same conclusion: Pneumonia definitely was better than having to face Lord Lambourn more than she had to.
The last three days she had only had to endure his presence at dinner and in the drawing room afterward and then just barely because they would sit at opposite ends of the table and in different parts of the drawing room at night.
Luncheon was the most crucial time to avoid him, since he was an early riser like her, as she had learned, meaning that he usually ate both breakfast and lunch early.
Hester’s stomach grumbled as she recognized the voices of the Drummonds: both Captain and Mrs. Drummond as well as Francis Drummond and at least one of his sisters. Possibly both, it was difficult telling their voices apart.
Feeling confident that Lord Lambourn was not in the room, she quietly entered, greeted everyone with a bland smile, and then walked to the small buffet. Hester had thought to eat her lunch in silence and then head up to her room to read and rest, but Mrs. Drummond said behind her:
“Lady Hester, perhaps you and my son should go for another walk today?”
Hester turned to acknowledge her statement, but had no time to speak before Francis Drummond groaned:
“Mother, it’s raining.”
“Yes, well...” Mrs. Drummond began.
“Actually, I have to find Lady Addinggrove. There is a pressing matter that I need to discuss with her,” Hester interrupted the other woman.
She believed that the smile Francis Drummond sent her was grateful. He was still attentive to her, sitting next to her at dinner, ready to lose to her in chess and trying to engage her in conversation, but she was not certain whether it could be considered courting, or he was simply being polite. In any event, his attention towards her had not changed her feelings for him.
Hester returned his smile with another bland one of her own.
“I think Lady Addinggrove went to the nursery,” Francis Drummond offered helpfully. This earned him a genuine smile from Hester.
She quickly swallowed a large amount of food and rushed out of the room without having conversed much with anyone there. As she hurried down the corridor, she wondered whether Francis Drummond had any true interest in her. This would actually be a good topic to discuss with Sophia when she found her: Hester did not intend to make a liar of herself.
Sophia’s opinion on what Algernon Gaywood felt and whether he was interested would also be pleasant. Algernon Gaywood was just as pleasantly attentive as Francis Drummond and to some extent, Hester leaned towards him if she had to choose either of them. Which she became less and less certain that she would.
She had completely given up on Percy Eavesgrave. Sometimes he would flirt without inhibitions and other times he would go on and on about how marvelous the forest at Barford Abbey was, how well his brother kept the estate, the many plans that he had for the place, and some such praise of his ancestral home. She had no clue what his intentions were, but she was rather certain that it was not marriage. If he had not been Sophia’s brother, she would have asked her for her opinion of him as well.
Even if he had been interested in her, she would never have chosen him after having kissed his brother. Despite her best efforts to ignore Lord Lambourn, he still affected her. She craved his attention as well as his touch. Instead of writing down what she should have said differently when speaking to him, she had started writing down the things that she wished she could have said to him. Only to burn it in the fireplace afterward.
Lord Lambourn on the other hand seemed to have completely forgotten their encounter in the library. He would only acknowledge her with courteous nods and only speak to her when absolutely necessary. It was almost like before when she had been certain that he hated her, but now it simply seemed that he was indifferent towards her.
Perhaps it was easier for men to be with a woman and not feel anything afterward. Certainly, Archie had not seemed affected in any way emotionally by the leagues of women that he had shared a bed with. Although that was simply her conclusion based on observations of him. Perhaps she should ask him at one point. What he had said in the linen closet had surprised her after all.
But first, she wanted to find Sophia. She had not seen her friend as much as she had hoped during the house party. Having to entertain three suitors was taking up rather a lot of time, especially since she was not particularly partial to either of them.
When she entered the hallway to the nursery, she heard someone count out loud. Arthur and a man who sounded eerily like Lord Lambourn. For a moment Hester halted, as her heart hammered rapidly in her chest. She still had time to turn around and pretend that she had never been there, then seek out Sophia later.
She was just about to walk back down the stairs when Sophia popped her head out of the door to the room that had belonged to their governess.
“Oh, it’s you,” she whispered. “We are playing hide and seek. Arthur and Percy are going to find us. Hide!”
With that, she closed the door again. Hester stood rooted to the spot for another moment, then hurried down the corridor towards the unused nursemaids’ bedrooms at the end of the hall. She knew that only two of the servants’ rooms on the floor were occupied currently since Arthur was the only child staying there.
She could indulge both Sophia and Arthur in playing hide and seek, she reckoned. She certainly knew all the best hiding spots on the nursery floor, even though she doubted that she would fit into most of them now.
As she passed the open nursery door, she saw Percy Eavesgrave and Arthur standing inside in the middle of the floor, eyes closed as they were counting out loud. It was disturbing how much Percy Eavesgrave looked like his brother – and yet did not. The curls, the clothes, and even his smile were different from Lord Lambourn’s.
She must have made a sound because Percy Eavesgrave opened his eyes and sent her a mischievous look.
“Hide,” he mouthed before continuing to count and Hester realized that she had stopped to examine him. She hurried down the hallway to her old nursemaid’s room at the end. Hester closed the door as silently as possible and listened close to the door to determine whether they had stopped counting or not. Still counting, which gave her just a few seconds to hide better. She turned around to survey the room but all she saw was Lord Lambourn’s dark eyes.
***
For a moment Flint had thought that it was merely his mind playing tricks on him when Hester had entered the room. Conjured up by his imagination because she was all that he could think of, dream of, long for, it seemed.
Then he thought that she was perhaps ignoring him. She hesitated for a couple of seconds with her hand on the door handle and her back to the room. Perhaps thinking of leaving. His heart hammered in his chest at the thought, yet he felt rooted to the spot, unable to move, to allow himself to touch her. When she turned and he saw the surprise in her eyes, he realized that she had been completely unaware that he had been there.
“I beg your pardon, my lord,” she whispered wide-eyed and was fumbling with the door handle behind her back even though she did not turn around to open it. Her violet eyes seemed fixated on him. “I had no idea...” she ended the statement in an audible gulp and turned halfway to open the door.
Flint was by her side in two steps, encompassing her hand on the door handle and preventing her from opening.
“There is nothing to be sorry about,” he murmured close to her ear. Her scent was everywhere when they were this close. Lemon, spring flowers, and the outdoors with a sweet note as well, as if she in herself smelled sweet. He could not help but bury his head by her neck.
“What, what, what,” she kept repeating as he kissed the soft skin there.
“Hester,” he could only breathe and gently placed his arms around her, watching for any sign that she might want to leave. Instead, she turned in his loose embrace.
“I don’t understand,” she mumbled without meeting his eyes. “I thought... I thought you were indifferent towards me.”
“I’ve tried to be,” Flint muttered, and his heart squeezed at the thought of how hard he had tried to ignore her. He wanted her to lift her eyes and look at him, but simply raising her chin and demanding that she did felt too forceful. Hester was not one to coax; she should always be allowed to do as she pleased. Which was why his heart leaped with joy as her violet eyes finally met his again.
“I still don’t understand,” she told him.
“I... As I said, as we agreed I suppose, this is not fair to Cecilia. I shouldn’t be attracted to you, yet I cannot help myself.”
Hester nodded and stared at a point far away over his shoulder.
“Perhaps a swan can be intrigued by an owl, even though they do not belong together,” she muttered.
Flint could not help but laugh before he realized the meaning of her words.
“In that case, you are the swan,” he murmured and leaned his head slightly down towards her, hoping that she would acknowledge the invitation.
Hester’s eyes landed on his lips and Flint could only feel pleased that she was at least thinking along the same lines as him. He could not hope for more from her. In fact, if he was wise, he would let go of her at this moment. But he did not.
Hester only slowly met his lips. Flint tried to calm himself, relishing in simply feeling her lips against his, even though he felt desperate to deepen the kiss. But when he felt her opening her mouth and her tongue met his, he could not help but plunge his tongue into her mouth as his hands slid down her back to cup her bottom, pressing her firmly against his growing erection. His behavior was completely unseemly, completely out of character and yet Hester seemed to welcome it. She sighed into his mouth as one hand snaked into his hair and the other down to cup his bottom.
God, how he wanted her. To spend hours exploring her and let her explore him.
The happy voice of his nephew made him break off the kiss and he met Hester’s eyes. She seemed unaware of Percy and Arthur heading in their direction, her expression still looking happy and dazed. If only he could make sure that she bore that look forever.
Flint let go of her, even though he was not ready to.
“Meet me at midnight in the library,” he whispered since he could not simply let her go like this.
Hester gave him a wide-eyed look and was silent for so long that Flint was uncertain whether she was going to answer. Then her eyes narrowed, and he knew he would not like whatever she said next.
“Only if you promise we will go further than kissing,” she told him.
Flint’s body parts reacted very differently to that statement: while his mouth opened with surprise, his loins tightened with need. Everything in him screamed that this was a horrible idea, yet he nodded and gulped with dry sound.
Hester gave him a brief smile before scanning the room. There was only a bed, a small desk with a chair, and a tallboy in the corner. It would be impossible for the two of them to hide in here. But they had to find a solution fast; Percy and Arthur sounded as if they were in the very next room.
“Hide under the bed. I’ll stand in the corner and pretend that I did not see you,” Hester whispered. She was clearly thinking along the same lines as him. She hurried to the corner behind the door. Flint quickly lay down on his stomach and pressed under the narrow bed. Percy might believe Hester had not seen him. Just might.
It was impossible for Flint to turn his head and look at Hester, but he was glad that it was he who was hiding under the bed. Desire was still throbbing through his body, and he needed another moment to calm down before he was found.
The door was opened, and Arthur quickly squealed with joy as he found Hester behind it. Both Percy, Sophia, and Addinggrove praised him. Great, they were all here. Percy would have been hard enough to fool, but Sophia would be nearly impossible.
He could hear Hester laugh as she was clearly trying to coax them out the door. Much good could be said about her, but she was a terrible liar.
“No, Uncle Flint is in here too,” Arthur told her.
“But it’s just me,” Hester replied in a manner that sounded so fake that every adult would have to be able to see through the lie. Flint closed his eyes, wishing that she would simply stop talking.
“No, we have looked in all the other rooms, and he was not there,” Arthur said very determinedly.
“Have you checked the linen closet? There is a linen closet by the stairways...” Flint could hear Hester take several steps without anyone following her.
“It was locked,” Percy drawled.
Hester seemingly gave up protesting and both Percy and Sophia encouraged Arthur to look for him.
Flint could hear Arthur walk around; he was close to the bed now. As his head was turned the other way, Flint could not see him, but he was fairly certain that the sound behind him was Arthur lying on all fours. A moment later he squealed:
“He’s here, he’s here. I found you, Uncle Flint!”
Flint had to climb on his stomach to get out from under the bed. It seemed much more difficult now than when he had entered.
“Oh, Lord Lambourn, I had no idea you were there,” Hester said in a tone of voice that Flint doubted convinced any of his siblings. When he turned, he saw the knowing look on Percy’s face and one of slight surprise - but was that smugness as well? - on Sophia’s. Addinggrove seemed to be the only adult who was either able to hide his feelings or was actually oblivious.
“Again, again,” Arthur cried.
“No, I think we should play something else now,” Percy said with a pointed look at Flint.