Robert’s days were taken up with consulting the estate manager over sale of land and various properties, but he had been able to retain the two family houses and the dower house. Spinks, the estate manager, was an honest and astute man who had been frustrated with Frederick’s neglectful style of ownership.
He was delighted with Robert’s quiet consideration and attention to detail. Most of all, he was relieved to find he was dealing with a thoughtful and intelligent master who knew how to practise stringent economies without destroying rural communities and poor labourers. They were of the same mind almost immediately and Robert was confident that Spinks would organize not only the sale of the land and property, but valuable trees for timber, for which there was a ready market.
Over the weeks since Frederick’s death, Robert, who had never had to consider money before, had come to realize that if Frederick had continued the life that he was leading there would be precious little of the family fortune left to salvage. He wondered briefly if his brother would have run through Isabella’s fortune so rapidly. He was finally aware of his father’s foresight in leaving Robert comparatively well off – ‘in order to extend my collections,’ were his father’s words and Robert had reason to be glad of his father’s thoughtfulness.
When things finally seemed to be in order, he returned home. It was early March and the weather, though still cold, was fine and dry. The pale sun glinted on the snow which still lingered on the roads and fields, giving a picturesque appearance to the badly rutted cart tracks and mud-encrusted country pathways.
It seemed an age since he’d had the opportunity to enjoy the late winter sun and he longed for a country ramble. One morning after he had changed and had some refreshments, he decided to go for a brisk walk. Lady Gascoine was confined to her bed with a cold and his Aunt Jane and Bradbury were out in the village, doing good to the cottagers, taking them food and clothes to help them through a hard winter.
He found Elizabeth half an hour later, in the small saloon, as usual with her needlework, and his heart skipped a beat when he saw how pale she had become, while he had been so preoccupied with the funeral, lands and property. He felt a sense of shock at the sight of her face, drained of its usual attractive animation, and her eyes, which seemed to have lost their former sparkle.
‘Miss Baines … Elizabeth … Miss Winfield …’ he began. ‘I must become used to calling you by your correct name.’ He smiled down at her with the quiet charm she remembered so well, but her own expression remained sombre.
‘I have just been to see my mama,’ he went on. ‘She seems to be recovering slowly, but is still unfit to go out. It must be tedious for you when your own activities are so restricted in this way.’
When she still didn’t reply, he stepped closer to her and noticed a solitary tear which was still glinting on her cheek. Impulsively, he grasped her shoulders with both of his hands. ‘Are you happy here, Elizabeth?’
She registered the use of her Christian name, but she remained calm and answered in a colourless voice, ‘Yes, I am happy. As happy as my situation allows.’
She looked nervous, as though she expected him to say something critical of her. Robert realized that he had made her feel wary of him by kissing her and then keeping her at a distance while offering no explanations for his actions. There were so many things that he regretted – going to see Honoria, for instance.
‘I have been very distracted of late, having to deal with my brother’s financial affairs, but hopefully things are so much more settled now.’
‘That must be a relief to you, sir,’ she replied drily.
Uncharacteristically, his mouth twisted in annoyance. ‘I beg your pardon, I have no wish to bore you with my concerns. Obviously, you have no interest in the family estate.’
‘I was not aware that I was supposed to have any.’
‘I deserved that, I suppose. We have all taken you for granted and yet your care and companionship of my mama have been exemplary.’
She eyed him coolly. ‘It is what I am employed to do. I am a paid companion to Her Ladyship.’
A sense of dread weighed down Elizabeth’s spirit and she had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Was he going to tell her that she was no longer required and that her employment was at an end? It would be too cruel.
‘Do you mean Lady Gascoine doesn’t need me any more?’
He caught her chin and made her look at him. ‘No, you silly goose. I don’t mean that. We all need you, Elizabeth, in our different ways. But come,’ he said, more briskly, and he released her abruptly. ‘We could both do with a good long walk in the fresh air. Would you care to join me?’ He looked at her, smiling with his eyes and once more she was overcome with shyness.
‘Yes, sir … very well….’ She sped upstairs to change into her warmest clothes.
‘I shall wait for you in the hall,’ he called after her.
She was glad to make her escape from the silent house and the tedious needlework which had occupied her since Frederick’s funeral and had been boring her for days. When she came into the hall, he was waiting for her, dressed not in his elegant clothes but in a country gentleman’s nankeen jacket and breeches, with stout leather boots. A footman hovered, waiting to help him into his greatcoat, then opened the door for them.
He took her hand and tucked it warmly in his arm, leading her down the long drive. Elizabeth was acutely conscious of the nearness of him and walked sedately, desperately trying to think of some topic of conversation. It was Robert who finally broke the silence.
‘While I was in London, my Aunt Jane wrote and told me what a great help and support you have been to my mother,’ he said. He was smiling down on her again in the old charming way. It was as though Honoria Wilshaw had never happened.
‘I only did what it was my duty to do,’ she said modestly.
‘But it’s the way you do it,’ he said. ‘Such a kind and willing companion. No wonder Mama is feeling so much better.’ He pressed the hand that was in the crook of his arm and Elizabeth blushed. She was glad when they were at the gate and were away from prying eyes. They turned along the cart track which led to the village.
In spite of the bitter cold, there were already signs of spring. Once or twice they passed little clumps of primroses which were thrusting their pale green leaves through the grassy bank at the side of the path. Further on, near a little stream, they saw the tight buds of the catkins on the overhanging willow. All around them small birds flew in and out of trees, marking their territory, gathering nesting materials and singing to attract a mate. Even his brother’s tragic death was not able to dim the bright morning sunshine, and his happiness at being with Elizabeth again. He had spent the last couple of weeks trying not to think about her. Trying to muffle the voice in his brain which murmured her name over and over to him. Trying to persuade himself that it was just the passing fancy of a young man for a young and pretty girl. And once he was married to someone suitable, what he felt for his mother’s companion would be just a memory.
Gradually, however, he realized that Elizabeth would never be a distant memory. His heart was pounding because of her nearness. His body was increasingly aware of Elizabeth’s hand nestling in the crook of his arm. He need only to turn his head and her mouth would be within kissing distance of his own. He remembered the delicious sensation when he’d claimed those lips for the first time and she’d surrendered so sweetly and completely. What an innocent she was. How soft and yielding…. Oh God! Stop thinking about it!
He tried instead to think of some harmless, polite remark, but none came to him. He glanced carefully at her. She seemed solemn, engrossed in her own thoughts.
Neither of them was prepared for an unusually deep rut in the muddied cart track, hidden by a sprinkling of snow and much deeper than it appeared. Elizabeth tripped and her fall seemed inevitable as she sank up to her ankles in soft snow.
Robert’s immediate reaction was to clasp an arm round her waist, as she held on to his arm, then to hold her up as she desperately tried to regain her balance. She reached up to him with her other arm and clung to his shoulder, trying to steady herself. She managed to stay on her feet, enjoying his warm clasp, but to her surprise Robert didn’t release her. He looked deep into her eyes and raised the hand he was holding to his lips.
Her eyes were wide with apprehension and he could feel her shaking a little. Robert wondered briefly if she had any idea of how that wide-eyed look of hers shattered his resolve into little fragments. She held his gaze with his own, staring up at him, her lips slightly parted as she unconsciously relaxed against him. And Robert was lost. He knew he should let go of her at once but instead he threw all good intentions to one side and drew her closer still, absolutely overwhelmed by the temptation of those soft lips. Her arms still clung to him and she responded to the seductive pressure of his mouth instantly. Her lips opened like a flower unfolding and artlessly she pressed herself against him, striving to get even closer to his body.
He felt unsteady with the passion which was consuming him as he plunged his tongue into her soft, willing mouth, caressing it with sensual strokes. His desire rose uncontrollably at the pressure of her breasts through her clothes. He slipped his hands inside her cloak and began to fondle her body. He heard her groan as he began to stroke her with more intimacy.
Elizabeth was now completely lost in the pleasure of the moment and her body’s responses to the sensations of his lovemaking, rejoicing in the pressure of his hard body and the compelling hands which pulled her ever closer and moved over her so sensually. He was no longer gentle and considerate but had become more strongly possessive and still she allowed herself to respond, even if it did set her trembling.
Robert had now almost reached the point of no return. He was aflame with a desire stronger than any he had ever known before. He was burning with the need to make love to her properly, to kiss and caress her until he had satisfied her completely. His own body was crying out with the need for fulfilment, his loins screaming to possess her and relieve his own pent-up passion.
With a groan of frustration, he let her go and looked down at her flushed face and red lips. They stood silently, facing each other, both of them too shaken to speak.
Elizabeth had been so lost in the passion of the moment that insanely, she wanted to declare her love for him. The words were pounding in her mind with every beat of her hasty heart: ‘My dear love, I love you. Darling Robert, I love you….’ She felt as though her brain would burst with the emotion she was not allowed to declare. She knew that if he had continued to make love to her like that, she would have surrendered to any demand he cared to make of her, would have given herself without a struggle, she wanted him so much. She stood, silent and shaken. She loved him. He would seduce first her body then her mind. He would break her heart and never marry her. He was destined to marry a wealthy girl, not such as she. Her cheeks burned and she averted her gaze. She stared out at the bleak countryside, noticing as though in a trance the Gascoine carriage returning along the road, taking Jane Gibson and Bradbury back home.
Robert, still bowled over by the strength of his own emotions, took a deep breath and said, ‘Elizabeth, I … I never intended…. You must know how much I love you. I’m sorry that I … gave way like that … I meant no insult. I love you very much.’ His voice grew hoarse as the coach carrying his aunt and Bradbury drew nearer and the coachman slowed to give the ladies an opportunity to greet Sir Robert and Miss Winfield.
‘I think I know what you intended, Sir Robert,’ Elizabeth said bitterly, her voice shaking a little. ‘A little romp with your mother’s companion to while away an idle hour. I quite understand.’
Then the carriage stopped. ‘Damn!’ he said loudly.
‘Elizabeth, please. Please let me….’ But no one heard as the coach stopped and the steps were lowered to take them up, and the ladies were full of polite conversation. Robert looked at her, willing her to look at him, but she pressed her lips together so that she wouldn’t humiliate herself by crying and turned away, gazing out of the window until they arrived home.
Robert was outwardly calm but seething inwardly with frustration and thwarted desire. Why didn’t he mention how he felt about her first? He had never felt this insane passion in the whole of his life. His whole body ached with the pent-up emotions of love and sexual longing. He wondered if he dare beg her pardon again for losing control like that. His only saving grace was that he wanted to marry her and care for her for the rest of his life. He looked across at her and saw the pain in her eyes. He realized with a pang that when he had pressed kisses on her this afternoon he hadn’t mentioned marriage. She must think him a swine, a hardened rake who just wanted to take advantage of her, just like his late lamented brother, Frederick. He was a crass fool, that he was. He’d never even asked her. He must set this right at once.
But they were already at the house and his Aunt Jane and Bradbury were still murmuring platitudes about the villagers and the new babies who had been born since they last visited. They were met by the usual servants and he watched while Elizabeth hurried upstairs to her room. He was powerless to stop her without making the devil of a scene in front of his aunt and her companion. He strode into the study and threw himself into a chair, clenching his fists in anger over his inept wooing.
Elizabeth, meanwhile, had reached her room and taken off her bonnet and cloak and crouched to warm her hands at the fire, her mind still racing. If only he would…. If only he would what? Seduce her? Make an offer for her? He would never do that. Her face flamed as she acknowledged to herself how little effort it would take on his part to get her to be his mistress. A little more wooing and a few words of love and she would have been his, with or without marriage. She asked the maid to bring her supper to her room. She couldn’t eat any of it, but merely drank a little of the lemonade and then removed her clothes and washed herself all over, as though to remove any taint of the emotions she’d felt for Robert Gascoine.