Unhurried, Eve got to her feet and walked towards them, her gaze sliding to Sir Oscar’s wife dispassionately. Elena Devlin was the last person she wanted to see. Attired in a figure-hugging lapis-blue habit and matching hat with white feathers, set jauntily on her dark hair with curls dangling over her shoulder, Lady Devlin was glamorous, beautiful and cold as steel. What had Matthew once said of her? Vivacious, exciting and rare—like vintage champagne.
Eve could not agree. She was enveloped in a musk perfume—musky as a cat, Eve thought with distaste and a well of bitterness. Her features were delicately moulded, all perfectly proportioned. Her whole style was elegant, and Eve was miserably conscious of her own dowdy and dishevelled appearance: her callused hands, hair uncombed and the dust of the fields on her boots and the hem of her skirt.
There was not a man in Woodgreen whose eyes did not devour Lady Devlin when she rode through town—she was their idea of paradise—nor a woman who didn’t wish they could be like her. She had a talent for flouting rules—such as stealing another woman’s husband.
Sir Oscar dismounted and stood holding the reins of his horse. His greedy eyes passed over the fields, missing nothing. Eve stiffened at his scrutiny. When his eyes finally rested on her, they narrowed as if in disapproval before he gave a curt nod. Eve did not avert her eyes.
‘Sir Oscar!’ she said, aware that from atop her horse Lady Devlin was surveying her with a critical eye and a smug smile on her carmine lips. ‘Can I help you?’
‘You’ve got the harvest in, I see. Have you considered my offer of buying the land?’
‘There’s no need. I’m not selling. I thought I’d made that perfectly clear.’
‘I thought you might have changed your mind. You are struggling financially. I would make a fair offer to a bright young widow like yourself.’
‘One which I would be forced to refuse.’
‘The farm will go to rack and ruin run by a woman with no head for business—and for what? What I am prepared to pay will make you a wealthy woman of independent means.’
‘You are wasting your time. I don’t think you have heard me. The land is not for sale.’ Sir Oscar really was a self-regarding, pompous man who was incapable of listening.
His eyes hardened. ‘You will.’
‘I will not. I am no fool, Sir Oscar.’
‘I’m not saying that you are. But you have a lot to learn.’
Lord Levisham appeared from behind the tree, where he had been speaking to Henry. Having heard some of the conversation between Eve and Sir Oscar, he approached them. Sir Oscar was surprised to see him there.
‘Ah, Lord Levisham! I heard you were back at Netherthorpe. Welcome home. What happened to your brother was a tragedy. Couldn’t believe it when I heard—such a competent rider, especially on the hunting field. My condolences. Have you left the army?’
Lord Levisham nodded, his face impassive. ‘I was left with no choice. Netherthorpe cannot run itself.’
‘No, of course it can’t. Have you met my wife, Lord Levisham? Elena.’
Lord Levisham’s eyes flicked to the woman on the horse and he inclined his head. The expression on his face remained unchanged. ‘I have—some time ago, when I was home on leave. Lady Devlin, my pleasure,’ he said with polite formality. He fixed his eyes on Sir Oscar. ‘Since you are here, Sir Oscar, I feel I must speak for Mrs Lansbury. I am far from happy in respect of your dealings with her.’
Sir Oscar started, clearly taken by surprise. His eyes narrowed as he prepared himself for an attack. ‘And why is that? Not that it should concern you, Lord Levisham.’
‘But it does—Mrs Lansbury being a widow and a neighbour. It saddens me to think a man of your standing would target a widow so persistently. I hope you can find it in you to put an end to the matter and that you will act honourably.’
Without raising his voice, Sir Oscar turned to leave. ‘You insult me, Lord Levisham. It is clear to me and the whole of Woodgreen that she is struggling. I thought to alleviate some of her worries by offering to buy a small tract of land on which to build some houses for my workers. Mrs Lansbury knows nothing about matters of business. It is a trait unbecoming in a woman to meddle in such affairs. I merely made the offer to stop her getting into debt and disrepute.’
‘I am sure Mrs Lansbury appreciates your concern, but does she have your word that it stops here?’
Mounting his horse, Sir Oscar looked down at them, Eve standing several paces behind Lord Levisham. ‘I made Mrs Lansbury my final offer some weeks ago. I will not make another.’ He looked at Eve. ‘In the future, should you wish to sell, you know where I am. Oh,’ he said as he was about to ride off. ‘I noticed the fence is down in the bottom meadow. I suggest you get someone to fix it before your stock get onto my land. Any damage to my crops, you will pay for.’
Eve steeled herself. ‘That fence was repaired last week and I have no stock in that field.’
He shrugged her off as he would a tiresome child. ‘If you say so.’
As soon as he had ridden away, accompanied by his wife, Eve’s resentment at Lord Levisham’s arrogance and domineering manner to take it upon himself to speak for her came with a vengeance. Suddenly, what she had begun to feel for him was dangerous. She had sworn after Matthew’s death never to let another man have power over her. Time and again throughout the years of those pain-filled days she reminded herself of the agony he had inflicted on her during their marriage, and she fiercely renewed her vow never to let it happen again—never to give her heart to any man who would try to control her.
Behind the pattern of her beautiful face, she was outraged. The red blushes on her cheeks had settled into a dark glow, the flush of sudden battle in her face.
‘How dare you?’ She flared up, having felt the shift of power move towards him.
‘I’m sorry?’ he said, though Eve got the impression her response was not the grateful one he was expecting.
‘How dare you use your power to speak for me? I was married to a man who controlled my every move, and I will not tolerate anyone else doing that. I am capable of fighting my own battles. Whatever drove you to challenge Sir Oscar, please do not do so again. My affairs are my own and I am quite capable of dealing with difficult neighbours myself. Any problem I have with him, I will deal with. I do things my way and take my chances.’
Lord Levisham’s face darkened with annoyance, and Eve could almost feel his struggle to hold his temper in check. ‘In which case, I offer my sincere apologies.’
‘Thank you. Now, I would offer you refreshment, but if you will excuse me I have things to do. Good day, Lord Levisham.’
Turning on her heel, she began to walk in the direction of the house. Lord Levisham followed, halting her by catching hold of her arm and speaking close to her ear from behind.
‘Go if you must, but before you do, I will give you a warning. Just one,’ he enunciated coldly. ‘Call it advice, if you prefer.’
‘If I wanted advice,’ Eve retorted, spinning round, her eyes sparking with green fire, ‘I would not come to you.’
‘Perhaps not, but I will repeat what I said on our first meeting. Have a care in your dealings with Oscar Devlin. He is not to be trusted, and not for one minute do I believe he will give up trying to obtain the land—by fair means or foul.’
‘Thank you for the advice,’ she said coldly. ‘But I am perfectly aware of the nature of the man.’
‘Then be on your guard. I am truly sorry if I have offended you or hurt you in any way. It was not my intention.’
‘You didn’t hurt me. I am simply furious that you should have the audacity to speak for me. No one has the right to do that.’
‘Wait.’ He reached out and took her arm, halting her when she was about to walk away. He eyed her to gauge her response—the expressionless face, the distrustful eyes, the taut shoulders.
Eve glanced down at his hand, giving him the message that she was deeply offended to be touched. He uncurled his fingers. Lord Levisham’s nearness threatened to destroy her confidence and composure, but only threatened. He was far too bold to allow even a small measure of comfort. With all her senses heightened sharply, a spark of self-preservation ignited within her. She stepped back, her retreat necessary to cool her burning cheeks and to ease the unruly pacing of her heart to some degree. She lifted her head imperiously, her eyes glinting as they glared into his.
‘I don’t want you to say anything else. I think we have both said far too much as it is. I don’t want you to touch me. Now please go.’
He nodded slowly and stepped away from her. When he spoke, his tone was brusque. ‘Should you need help in any way, you know where I am. Goodnight, Mrs Lansbury.’
Without another word, he mounted his horse and rode away without a backward glance.
Eve stood and watched him go with a feeling of regret that she didn’t care for. Anger and humiliation had made her boil over, otherwise she would not have spoken so harshly. She felt a sudden stillness envelope her. When Levisham stood so close to her, she had been vividly aware of the heat of his body, the spicy scent of his cologne and his maleness, and had been overwhelmingly conscious of him.
It was a long time since she had felt so helpless, so vulnerable, and she was angry and resentful of the way Lord Levisham had taken charge of the situation with Sir Oscar. Even her marriage to Matthew had not created the furore inside her as did this strange relationship she had with Lord Levisham, although she had been young and innocent. She was irritated by the way in which he’d skilfully cut through her superior attitude.
She was about to return to the house when the head of the workers approached her.
‘We are moving out in the morning, Mrs Lansbury. I want to thank you for giving us work. We’ll be down this way next year.’
‘Thank you, that is good to know. If you come to the house, I’ll settle things with you.’
‘No need, Mrs Lansbury. Lord Levisham has given us payment.’
Eve stared at him. ‘Oh... I... I didn’t... I see.’
If she had been angry before, now she was incandescent. How dared he take it upon himself to do this? How dared he? No one had insulted her as much as this and it was more than her pride could bear. Dazed and unable to form any coherent thought, she stalked to the house with her fists clenched, wanting nothing more than to confront that arrogant earl and vent her fury. At the full realisation of what he had done, renewed life began to surge through her. Her magnificent eyes shone with humiliation and wrath. She was appalled and outraged.
The unspeakable cad! Just when she was beginning to trust him, to respect him and believe he had been unfairly maligned, he had to go and do this. She didn’t like his proprietorial manner, not one bit—it reminded her far too much of Matthew. She should have been wary of him. He was the type of person who thought he only had to beckon to a girl and she would come running.
And coming face to face with Elena Devlin had done nothing to improve her temper. The look she’d given Eve would have caused most people to turn away, but Eve had reacted with studied nonchalance, deliberately meeting her eyes. It had had the desire effect. Lady Devlin had been the first to look away. Although the brief encounter had left a bad taste in Eve’s mouth, it did at least feel as though she’d won a small victory.
Eve entered the house and went into her office, glad to be alone. The cross words she had exchanged with Lord Levisham, and the anger they had stirred in her, had affected her more than she realised. It was a long time since anyone had tried to lord it over her, and Lord Levisham’s attitude had reopened an old raw wound. Matthew had done that. He had tried to control her all the time, unable to accept that she had a mind of her own. But before that, when Lord Levisham had ridden into the field, there’d been no doubt that his presence had disturbed her.
She remembered the things she had said to him in that short time when they had sat on the ground leaning against the stout trunk of the same tree—close, but still strangers. She had listened to the things he had said, as though thinking out loud and not for anyone else’s ears. Of how he had felt about his brother, his regret at leaving the army and the pressing sense of the future being shaped in a way he didn’t want it shaped.
Yes, they had spoken openly, but would they be able to forgive each other for the things they had said, and the weaknesses they had confessed? Would they despise each other for that? They had both lost someone close, tragedies both of them, and the anguish was still with them. They were not friends—he was the Earl of Levisham and she the widow of a farmer—just two people who had met and talked too much. It would be better if they did not meet again but she would have to see him to repay the money he had given the workers.
Watching Eve Lansbury made Maxim reflect on his life before he’d joined the army, and on all the things he had missed. There had been pleasurable moments for him, both at home when he had been on leave and in Spain or wherever his military duties had taken him, but none of them had been of a serious nature.
This had been down to him. Because of his military duties, which had often been fraught with danger and had taken him away for many months at a time, he had purposely steered clear of becoming closely involved with any woman. But that didn’t mean he’d given up the thrill of the chase, the excitement of seduction.
It had been six months since his last short affair—a Spanish lady called Gabriela, voluptuous and a willing partner in bed. She’d wept when he’d left her, but he’d had to move on. And, when the letter informing him of Andrew’s death had arrived, he’d known the time had come for him to leave his rakish ways behind. His priority now was Netherthorpe and making sure it was run in a way that would have made Andrew proud—but he hadn’t reckoned on Mrs Lansbury.
Ladies of her station in life had never entered his sphere, and the primal rush of attraction he felt for her surprised him. He could not dismiss her from his mind. Something about the bleakness in her eyes when she had told him of her life married to Matthew Lansbury and her work had moved him. She was unlike the women who floated around in his social world—women of unbridled self-indulgence whose lives revolved around the latest fashions and expensive jewels; women who had a raging ambition to marry a title or a high-ranking officer.
He admired Eve Lansbury, who was fiercely struggling to hold on to her home, with a depth of feeling that was new to him. Many women of her situation would have given up before now, but Maxim knew she would rather face a firing squad than betray the slightest hint of weakness. She was caring and capable, and her capacity for loyalty was unquestionable, having taken over the running of The Grange and doting on her son. She would make any man a perfect wife, and in an ideal world would be the sort of woman to marry and settle down with—but not for him. It was not an ideal world and the difference in their status made her unsuitable to be the wife of an earl. But as a mistress? Maybe. On their two previous encounters she had responded positively to him—he had not imagined that, or that he was strongly attracted to her.
He smiled as his mind drifted back to how it had felt to sit beside her in the lowering sun, the smell of harvested corn heavy in the sultry air. The drab, unfashionable dress she had been wearing, which had seen better days, was an insult to her femininity. Mentally he stripped her of the unflattering garment and saw her draped in a fashionable gown with gems at her throat—blood-red rubies against her soft flesh—in the flimsiest lace negligee barely covering her luscious body. The image was enough to arouse his loins and he decided he would order a cool bath to ease the aching discomfort.
The entrancing image of her as she had attended his wound wouldn’t leave his mind; and, as he had watched her expressions as she had chatted with him, he had become aware of an old tug deep in his gut. The idea of having possession of that fragile beauty woke the sleeping demons inside him. Not only did she make him blind to anything but the demands of his own body, she effortlessly aroused other more powerful emotions he had tried to set aside since Andrew’s death.
She was a tempting-looking woman. So tempting, in fact, that he had a mind to see if she tasted as sweet as she appeared.
Eve was more in control of her emotions the following morning when she took the reins of her carriage and drove to Netherthorpe. But her mind still burned with the memory of what Lord Levisham had done and she wasn’t ready to be forgiving. It was half an hour’s drive to Netherthorpe. Never having been to the house before, she had no idea what to expect. Parkland with grazing deer seemed to go on for ever. She was relieved when she reached the high stone walls that surrounded the house and grounds. Massive wrought-iron gates stood open beneath a stone arch surmounted by the Randall family crest.
Passing through, she followed the winding drive flanked with trees. The calm of the morning held a kind of radiance that dazzled her. It was in this radiance that Netherthorpe came into view with its tall chimneys and crenelated roofs against the pale blue sky. It took her breath away, reminding her of something out of a fairy tale. Eventually the grounds opened out and she saw the well-designed gardens gently sloping away from broad terraces. In the centre was a large ornate fountain which sent water spuming into the air.
The house was old and imposing. Everything of the importance and majesty of England was there, taking pride of place in the surrounding rich and beautiful countryside like some grand old lady. Pulling the horse to a halt in front of the house, and trying not to let her nerves take over, she climbed out and headed for the door at the top of a short flight of wide stone steps. It was intimidating. Taking a deep breath, she took hold of the heavy brass ring and knocked on the door, which was opened almost at once by a male servant attired in black.
‘May I help you?’
‘Yes, thank you. I’m here to see Lord Levisham.’
‘And may I ask who is calling?’
Eve could tell by his tone that he did not approve of her calling so early and without a proper invitation. In his world, the proper etiquette for visiting involved calling cards for invitations. ‘Mrs Lansbury from The Grange.’ She smiled tightly, not prepared to be fobbed off. ‘Is Lord Levisham at home?’ If the servant was surprised, he hid it well. There was no more emotion in the lined face than was permitted in a well-trained servant.
‘Of course. I should have recognised you. Please come inside while I ask if he’s available.’
‘Please don’t bother. I’ll announce myself.’ Hearing voices coming from one of the rooms leading off from the hall, she headed towards it, ignoring the servant’s startled expression and objections. She couldn’t help but take in her surroundings as she crossed the hall. The height and deep shadow made it cool, almost like a church. At any other time, she would have paused to take a better look and admire, but her mind was on other things.
Opening the door to what she presumed must be Lord Levisham’s study, she marched inside. Lord Levisham was seated at his desk along with another gentleman she recognised as his cousin. Of slender athletic build, good-looking and fair haired, his manner was so indolent that he gave the impression of being half-asleep. She met his gaze and felt a prickling on the back of her neck that warned her not to trust him. He was fastidiously tailored in turquoise satin, his neck cloth tied into perfect folds.
Lord Levisham looked up. His eyes snapped to attention, his expression instantly alert. For a moment he found himself speechless. Only when Eve descended on him was he jostled back to reality. Pushing back his chair, he stood up.
‘Mrs Lansbury! What brings you to Netherthorpe so early? What a delightful surprise.’
‘Is it? I doubt you will feel that way when I leave. This is not a social call.’
His cousin peeled himself out of his chair and stretched languidly, his smile and manner deceptively mild. ‘I think I’d better leave you to it.’
Eve looked at him. He spoke in a slow, deep voice, essentially undramatic, conveying the perfect measure of its owner’s self-control. They had never met but she felt an instant dislike. He had about him an air of corruption and a ruthlessness that made her uneasy. It was nothing she could put her finger on. Being alone and observing people in the quiet of The Grange gave her an instinct for it. He appeared respectable, but there was something there nonetheless. He was looking at her from beneath his hooded lids. There was something in his eyes that she felt she did not want to understand or even know about. Something crouched and waiting. His manner gave him away as the type who regards himself superior to other people.
Like Lord Levisham, he wore the look of the well-bred of generations and possessed the complex traits that thrived in the families of those who were born to govern. But there was a fastidious air of supercilious taciturnity about this man that his cousin did not possess. She saw his eyes pass over her and his lips curl with distaste, which she ignored. His hooded eyes were half-closed, reminding her of a lizard.
‘Please don’t leave on my behalf,’ she retorted sharply, feeling that prickle of discomfort again. ‘What I have to say to Lord Levisham will not take long.’
He hesitated and then sat back down, deciding to stay where he was.
Lord Levisham walked round the desk to stand before her, a roguish smile sweeping across his handsome face. There was a kindling of fire in the depths of his eyes that touched her like a hot brand and kindled fresh ire. How dared he look at her like that after what he had done?
‘You’ve saved me the trouble of coming to see you—to apologise for any offence I may have caused you yesterday.’
Eve regarded him through narrowed eyes. ‘You were going to come to me?’
He grinned, clearly hoping to placate her. ‘May I offer you refreshment?’
‘No, thank you. I told you, this is not a social call.’
He nodded, perching his hips against his desk and folding his arms across his chest, his manner as languid and irritating as his cousin’s. ‘Then what can I do for you? You look upset about something.’
‘Upset?’ She flared. Slowly she moved towards him. Planting her small feet firmly in front of him, she faced him squarely. ‘Yes, I am upset, but I am also furious.’
‘Still? I was hoping you would have got over it by now.’
‘I am sorry to disappoint you, but I am still furious.’
He was so close she could smell his shaving lotion and the masculine scent of him. ‘You did something to which I would never have agreed had I been consulted from the outset. I have come to return the money you paid the workers. You had no business doing that. None whatsoever,’ she said, loathing the fact that she couldn’t take her eyes off his mouth and the waves of heat that washed over her at every word he uttered. Even though she told herself she loathed those penetrating eyes that told her he knew everything about her, because she had stupidly used him as a confidant, she couldn’t stop her own eyes from staring into their silver brightness.
‘I was trying to help.’
‘Then please don’t. I will be the judge of what is best for me. I don’t want your money,’ she snapped, placing a heavy purse on the desk—money she had found hard to find at such short notice. ‘How dare you feel sorry for me? I am no simpering English miss, afraid to stand up for herself. I will not be pitied. I told you, I speak for myself and pay my dues without interference from anyone. That includes you, Lord Levisham.’
‘I’m sorry if I’ve offended you. Call it payment for what you did for me. You probably saved my life.’
‘As an experienced tried and tested military man many times over, I am quite sure you are capable of doing that yourself. I do not want payment for what I did. You insult me, Lord Levisham. You are arrogant and egotistical, and completely ignorant in your dealings with others, so kindly do me the favour of minding your own business in the future.’
Calmly he said, ‘I thought you’d be pleased.’
‘Pleased? You unspeakable cad,’ she flung back. ‘I am far from it. I find the idea of being indebted to you distinctly distasteful.’
He cocked a sleek black eyebrow. ‘Beggars can’t be choosers.’
‘You’re right, they can’t, but I am no beggar. I will not be obligated to you.’
‘Damn it, Mrs Lansbury,’ Lord Levisham said, unable to repress his annoyance over her argumentative attitude. ‘I don’t want you to feel obligated to me.’
‘I don’t. I don’t owe you anything and I will take nothing from you.’
Shoving a heavy lock of hair back from his forehead, Lord Levisham sighed heavily. ‘You are a stubborn woman, Mrs Lansbury.’
‘You have no idea just how stubborn I can be. So far you have only scratched the surface.’
‘Are you always so unreasonable?’
‘You are the one being unreasonable. Now, if you will excuse me, I will go. I have work to do.’
‘Just a moment, if you please. There is something I wish you to have.’
‘Oh? And what might that be?’
Walking round the desk, he opened a drawer and removed a box, a box she recognised immediately. The last time she had seen it it had been in the pawn shop in Woodgreen. Incensed by this new offence, she stared at it without attempting to take it. Then, feeling her fury rising to fresh heights, she looked at him.
‘How could you? Just when I thought you couldn’t do anything else to humiliate me, you have to do this. How dare you interfere in things that do not concern you? How dare you? I am not even going to begin asking you how you knew... How you...’
Picking up the box, she backed away. ‘If you are expecting me to thank you for this then you are mistaken. You should not have done it. How dare you act in such a high-handed fashion? To take so much for granted... The worst part of all this is that I am still beholden to you. Be assured that I will lose no time in seeing that you are repaid.’
With her head held high, she strode to the door and left. Striding past the astonished butler, she let herself out of the house and went to her waiting carriage. Her mind was in turmoil as she reflected on her highly charged encounter with Lord Levisham. Normally in control of her emotions, she was simmering, seething with anger. She found his interference into her life insulting and unacceptable, and she sincerely hoped she would not have the misfortune to come into contact with him again. Climbing onto the carriage, she was about to drive away when Lord Levisham came striding towards her.
‘Mrs Lansbury, please wait,’ he said as she was about to drive off.
She looked down at him coldly. ‘I think everything has been said, Lord Levisham. I’ve no need of a knight in shining armour.’
‘I apologise if I have offended you—’
‘You’ve already said that,’ she snapped. ‘I am offended, and who can blame me?’
‘I don’t. I can only apologise.’
Eve glared at him, evincing not the slightest desire to forgive him. ‘There you go again. You really must stop repeating yourself. It becomes tedious. I must go. I have things to do.’
His face tightened, his lips compressed. He lifted one eyebrow ironically. ‘You know, you really should do something about that temper of yours. You’re lit up like a firework that’s about to explode at any minute.’
‘Explode? Believe me, Lord Levisham, you wouldn’t want to see my temper explode.’
‘Pardon me for trying to advise you on your faults.’
‘Faults? Why, you unspeakable, insufferable... And I don’t suppose you have any faults yourself, have you, Lord Levisham?’
‘On the contrary. I would be the first to admit that I have many. I am far from perfect.’ He smiled, his teeth flashing white. ‘Now, have you finished berating me and being rude to me, or are you to continue giving me a dressing down?’
She looked at him with icy equanimity. ‘I was not aware that I was giving you a dressing down or being rude. That was not my intention. You and I have met on two occasions, Lord Levisham, and already you presume too much.’
‘Out of concern and because I wanted to repay your kindness.’
She gave him a baleful look. ‘Then I hope you are satisfied.’ She had no idea how his mood lifted at the sight she made sitting there with all her outrage wrapped around her.
Suppressing a dangerous urge to widen his grin, he said, ‘Satisfied? I am not satisfied—and I will save your blushes by keeping to myself what would make me satisfied.’
Reading what was in his eyes, Eve looked away and, to her eternal mortification, heat flooded her body. ‘Damn you, Lord Levisham! I am certain that I have never disliked any man as much as I dislike you at this moment...’ Or felt so wonderfully alive with anyone else, she thought.
The man was incredible! One minute he was taking liberties by paying her workers and buying the necklace she had pawned—which she found offensive and unacceptable—and the next he was treating her reaction and their altercation lightly, as though it was of no importance. She became uncertain, and was beginning to feel foolish and bad tempered, but she was still angry and would not let him off the hook lightly. If she were to forgive him this, there was no telling what he would do next.
‘You should not have got back my necklace—which I intended retrieving at a later date—and, when anyone works for me, I pay their wages, not you. Nor should you have taken the liberty of speaking for me to Sir Oscar and that—that woman.’
‘That woman is his wife.’
‘His adulterous wife,’ Eve added contemptuously.
He nodded. ‘As you say.’
‘Yes, I do say. Where my husband was concerned, I believe she used him to relieve her boredom.’ Her eyes settled on Lord Levisham. ‘Whereas your brother was a different matter entirely. I am sure your cousin will have told you of their closeness, how quickly she made herself available to him when my husband died.’
‘I am aware of that,’ he replied coldly.
‘Of course you are.’ She saw his face harden, though he didn’t react in any other way. Her gaze swept over the magnificent house behind him. ‘Netherthorpe is by far the finest estate for miles. Elena Devlin seems to make a habit of collecting men—and your cousin is no exception, by the way, just in case he has omitted that piece of information. She changes her lovers with the seasons. Where will it end, I wonder? Have a care, Lord Levisham. She might already have you in her sights for her next victim. It’s possible that neither you nor your cousin will remain unscathed in your dealings with Elena Devlin.’
Seeing his jaw clench, she smiled. ‘Oh, I’m sorry. It would appear you didn’t know about your cousin.’ She sighed mockingly. ‘Dear me! I really shouldn’t have let my tongue run away with me, but it was common gossip when your brother died how quickly she latched onto your cousin.’
‘No, you shouldn’t,’ he replied tightly.
‘It’s just another of my faults, Lord Levisham. Like you, I have several. On a different note—which I advise you to consider very seriously—I advise you to have a care. Your brother also died in unfortunate circumstances, so perhaps you should look closer to home for your answer as to who is trying to kill you.’
‘What are you saying?’
‘One of the motives for someone trying to kill you could be for personal gain. I understand that your cousin Edward is next in line to inherit.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘May I ask what you are getting at?’
‘I know he is your cousin and you are close, so you won’t like what I’m going to suggest.’ She knew the risk she was taking, but somehow she found the courage to say, ‘People in this close-knit parish like to talk and his reckless behaviour on the hunting field and exploits with the ladies hereabouts has not gone unnoticed. From what I know of him, he’s as clever as two wily foxes, and I would find it hard to trust him.’ She spoke in all honesty, not having liked the way he had stared at her throughout with the calculating glare of a manipulator.
‘That’s mad. You can’t seriously think that Edward...’
They looked at each other for several seconds, Maxim in particular knowing that men were capable of almost anything when a juicy carrot was dangled before them. His expression hardened, clearly not wanting to believe what she was suggesting. ‘You shouldn’t listen to gossip, Mrs Lansbury. Nothing good comes of it.’
‘Maybe not, but I believe that old adage “there’s no smoke without fire”. Is it possible that it was your cousin who was trying to kill you that day? After all, he has much to gain.’
The muscles in his cheeks tensed and flexed as he met her eyes. ‘No, I do not think that.’ His tone was casual, but there was steel behind it.
‘Nevertheless, it’s a possibility.’
‘No one who knows Edward would think that.’
‘Perhaps you do not know him well enough.’
Anger darkened Lord Levisham’s eyes. ‘I believe I do. Take it from me, it’s not Edward.’
‘Maybe you’re right. I hope for your sake you are, but I think you should keep a close eye on him all the same.’ With a shake of the reins, she urged her horse on. ‘Good day, Lord Levisham.’
‘Wait.’
She halted the horse and looked back. Slowly he walked towards the carriage, resting his hand on the edge of the seat and looking up at her.
‘A word of advice before you go, Mrs Lansbury.’
‘And what might that be, Lord Levisham?’
‘Don’t let what has happened to you—what you do in the future—define you. Anger is a bad counsellor.’
‘How is it anything to do with you what I do?’
‘It isn’t.’ From beneath half-closed lids, his eyes held hers. A ghost of a smile touched his lips. ‘A pity,’ he murmured. ‘You and I could be—friends.’
She looked at him coldly. ‘You are mistaken. You are who you are, Lord Levisham—the Earl of Levisham. We are neighbours. You and I can never be friends. What you did when you took it upon yourself to pay the workers and buy back the necklace I took to the pawn broker was wrong. Why did you do it?’
‘Because you are alone and friendless, a prey to all dangers and all snares. I was sincere. I beg you to believe that.’
‘Whether I do or not is immaterial. And you were mistaken. I am neither alone nor friendless, and as far as I know I am not in danger. I am not interested in your warnings. Although, supposing I am in danger, why are you so anxious to save me?’
‘Perhaps because I have never been able to bear to see a beautiful woman destroyed—or maybe because you were there when I was shot. I want to give you back the equivalent of what you did for me that day.’
‘You have understood nothing and learned nothing, even now,’ she uttered scathingly. ‘Like most men, you think that women should bow to your wishes and merely thank you politely. I am sorry to disappoint you. I am my own mistress. I will not be controlled—not by you, not by anyone. I make my own rules. They have served me well since my husband died. They will do so in the future. Good day, Lord Levisham.’
As she travelled back to The Grange, she was determined to put Lord Levisham out of her mind. He was a man she was better off not thinking about. There was a purely sensual, physical attraction between them that neither of them could deny, which was the best reason in the world for them to stay away from each other, and she would never have to see him again. For some reason, that thought did not give her as much pleasure as it should have and she frowned, wondering why she should feel this way when he was the most provoking, infuriating man she had ever met. She couldn’t trust with her emotions a man who had the reputation of a rake.
To her alarm and shame, she was conscious that underneath all her anger was a growing excitement—that, in a peculiar way she could not explain, she had actually enjoyed the confrontation between them. Appalled by that admission, she told herself it was mere anger making her heart do strange things, but with a sinking feeling in her stomach she realised that she was lying to herself.