Engagement of Convenience. Georgie Lee

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СКАЧАТЬ he needed to do it soon. With his wound sufficiently recovered, it was time to settle on something meaningful to occupy his days, instead of frittering them away.

      He moved faster up the footpath following the drive, eager for activity, anything to shift the restless agitation dogging him this morning.

      ‘What’s the hurry?’ a familiar voice called out from behind him. ‘Run across a ghost in the woods?’

      James turned to see George leading Percy, his large, cream-coloured stallion, up the drive. In his friend’s wide, carefree smile, James caught traces of the bold captain he’d first met in the colonies ten years ago. At fifty, the lines of George’s face were deeper now, while the quiet life of a country gentleman had lightened his once sun darkened skin and thickened his waist.

      ‘I might have.’ James fell in step with his friend. ‘Describe your niece again.’

      ‘Why?’

      ‘Because I’m curious.’

      George shrugged. ‘Just what you’d expect from a girl of one and twenty. Clever, well formed, somewhat eccentric. Takes after me in that regard. Why?’

      ‘I met her in the woods.’ James remembered the striking young lady with her auburn hair falling in delicate waves about her face, her creamy skin flushed with excitement and a few headier emotions.

      ‘Really?’ A noticeable gleam danced in George’s eyes. ‘And?’

      ‘Eccentric, well formed. Though from all your descriptions, I’d taken her for more of a dour governess and less of an Artemis.’

      ‘When I described her she was still a girl.’

      ‘She’s no girl now.’ James wondered if such a woman had ever truly been a girl or if she’d simply sprung from the foam of the sea.

      ‘I’m glad to see you find her so interesting. Staying at Knollwood will give you a chance to get better acquainted. Who knows what you might discover?’

      James shifted the haversack on his back, resisting the urge to run his fingers over the jagged scar on his left shoulder. ‘Must we go to Knollwood?’

      ‘Yes, it’s all been arranged. Besides, by the end of the day it’ll be more like a shipyard here than a house and, with the weather turning, you don’t want the rain leaking on your head.’

      ‘It wouldn’t be the first time. I’ve lost track of the number of storms I’ve slept through at sea.’

      ‘And my guess is you won’t miss it. We wouldn’t have stayed here last night if we hadn’t dallied so long at Admiral Stuart’s dinner, but I hated to disturb everyone at Knollwood so late at night.’

      James laughed. ‘I wasn’t the one who insisted on opening another bottle of port.’

      ‘It doesn’t matter who caused the delay. I’ll be happy to sleep in a comfortable room that doesn’t smell like a cooking fire. And here I’d thought those bedrooms had escaped damage.’

      ‘You’ve gone soft.’

      George shrugged. ‘You will, too, in time.’

      James didn’t respond, this revelation not improving his mood. He’d already lost too much since resigning his commission to contemplate losing something as simple as his hardiness. ‘Why didn’t you tell me before we left London that the house wasn’t fit to live in?’

      ‘I think I greatly underestimated the damage.’ They stopped as two men carrying a large plank walked past them. ‘Besides, the ladies are quite excited at the prospect of meeting a new gentleman.’

      ‘You know I came here to escape such affairs.’

      ‘Does any man ever truly escape them?’

      ‘You seem to have avoided it.’

      ‘And you wish to follow my lead?’

      James scrutinised his old friend, suspecting more to all this than the extensive fire damage simply slipping his mind. ‘What are you about, George?’

      ‘Nothing.’ George held up his hands innocently but only succeeded in looking guiltier. ‘I want you to enjoy yourself while you’re here. Now hurry and change. We’re expected at Knollwood.’

      George pulled Percy off to the stables and James headed around to the back of the house, his footsteps heavier than before. Reaching under the loose jacket, his fingers traced the raised scar on his left shoulder through the thin fabric of his hunting shirt. Unconsciously, he flexed his left hand, feeling the weakness and cursing it. He stomped on a large clump of mud, mashing it into the earth. This was exactly what he didn’t want, the whole reason he’d allowed George to convince him to come to the country.

      He cursed his luck and George’s carelessness. If his friend had extinguished the lamp instead of leaving it to overheat, James could have spent the next two weeks here, not forced into Artemis’s cave waiting to be ripped apart by her wild beasts. He’d experienced enough clawing and tearing in the ballrooms of London. He had no stomach for it here in the country. Give him a French fleet any day; it was preferable to a matron with a marriageable daughter.

      A flash of movement on the opposite hill made him stop at the rear door. He watched the young woman ride at a full gallop over the green downs, the horse moving like a shadow, her amber hair a streak of sunlight through the dark clouds. The memory of the little Artemis astride the black beast, face flushed with anger, pert breasts rising and falling with each excited breath, filled his mind. His loins stirred with desire before he checked himself. It was one thing to idle away hours with the willing widowed sister of a provincial governor; it was quite another to dally with the niece of his best friend.

      Besides, no spirited creature wants a broken man. He pushed away from the wall, angrily slapping the door jamb. The rough stone stung his palm, reminding him that any interest in Miss Howard could only be to learn from her estate management skills which, according to George, were considerable. If James decided to follow his friend into the life of a country gentleman, he’d need to know more about it than what little he’d learn from books.

      * * *

      Manfred reached the crest of the hill, breathing hard, his dark coat glistening with sweat. Julia eased him into a slow walk and they ambled down the bridle path tracing the top. A thin mist crept through the crevices of the valley while sheep grazed quietly in the green meadows. The three estates situated on the three high hills overlooking the rolling valley came into view. Creedon Abbey, the smallest, stood on the hill closest to Knollwood. Though some five miles off, the tips of the turrets were just visible above the surrounding trees. All the land here had once belonged to the old monastery before the Reformation and some debt-ridden descendant saw it sold off to create Knollwood and Cable Grange. There was little difference between Creedon land and Knollwood land, but drastic changes marked the boundary between Knollwood’s lush, well-tended meadows and Cable Grange’s weed-choked fields. Cable Grange stood on the third-highest hill in the area. Farther away than Creedon, she could just see it sitting on its hilltop perch, the distance obscuring its neglected state. Being so close to Knollwood, she knew Cable Grange could be one of the finest houses in the county.

      If only it were mine. She didn’t know who to curse more, her brother Charles for inheriting Knollwood or Mr Wilkins for СКАЧАТЬ