Ben nodded and disappeared into the inn. Ten minutes later he was back. They said best to go on up to Candlewick Hall. Its owned by a London swell, name of Lord Alton. His familys been hereabouts for generations, so it seems a safe bet. The innkeepers missus thought youd be safe enough asking for help there.
Heavens, Ben! Georgiana looked at her faithful henchman in horror. You didnt tell them about?
Ben shrugged his old shoulders. Twerent no news to them. By all accounts, that cousin of yourns not much liked.
Georgiana considered this view. It was not hard to believe. Charles, in three days, had proved his colours beyond question. How far is it to Candlewick Hall?
No moren a couple of miles, said Ben, hauling himself up.
As the coach lumbered forward, Georgiana sat back and rehearsed her explanation. Doubtless she would have to be frank with Lady Alton. She was not sure what she expected her ladyship to do for her. Still, at the very least, surely Lady Alton would be able to recommend a hotel in London where she could safely stay?
The coach had picked up speed on the better-surfaced road. Georgianas wandering attention was reclaimed by the slowing of the vehicle as Ben turned the horses sharply to the left. Drawing closer to the window, she rolled up the flap and fastened it above the frame so she could gaze unimpeded at the landscape. And a very different landscape it was. In just a few miles, all evidence of rot had vanished. The fields they now passed were well tended; sheep and cattle dotted the pastures. All was neat and pleasant perfection. As if to give its blessing, the sun struck through the clouds, bathing the scene in warmth and brightness.
Georgiana was even more impressed when they reached the park of Candlewick Hall. Two stone eagles, perched atop tall gateposts, stood guard. Between them, massive wrought-iron gates hung wide. A neat gravelled drive led onwards, curving away between two lines of beech trees. The horses appreciated the even surface and trotted easily onward. Georgiana looked about her and was pleased to approve. This was how she had imagined an English gentlemans country residence would look, with trimmed shrubberies and manicured lawns falling away on one side to an ornamental lake, a white summer-house perched on an island in the middle. The vista had about it an air of peace and tranquillity. As the coach swept around a bend, she caught a glimpse of colour through the green of the treespresumably the gardens, which meant the house was near. She scooted to the other side of the coach and looked out.
Her eyes grew round and her lips formed an Oh of delight.
Candlewick Hall rose before her, its cream stone walls touched here and there with bright creeper. Three storeys of square-paned windows looked down on the gravel court before the front steps. In the morning light, the house was cloaked in a still serenity, a peaceful solidity, which tugged oddly at her. Candlewick Hall embodied everything she had come back to England to find.
The pace of the coach was checked, and they rocked to a stop before the white steps leading up to two massive front doors. Ben swung down and came to assist her to alight. He escorted her up the steps and plied the heavy knocker.
Georgiana faced the heavy wooden doors. It had seemed much easier to claim help from an unknown lady when she had been sitting in her bed last night. But the memory of Charless ravings stiffened her resolve. As the sound of footsteps drew nearer, she took a deep breath and fixed a confident smile on her lips.
Yes?
A stately butler looked majestically down upon her.
Good morning. My name is Georgiana Hartley. I wonder if I might have a word with Lady Alton?
Georgiana was pleased with her tone. She sounded confident and in control, despite the fact she was inwardly quaking. If the butler was this starchy, what was his mistress like? She kept her chin up and waited.
The butler did not move. Georgiana felt her confidence draining, dissipating like the morning mist under the intensity of his scrutiny. She wondered if the man was hard of hearing, and was gathering her courage to repeat her request in more strident tones when he smiled, quite kindly, and bowed. If you will step into the drawing-room, Miss Hartley, I will inform Lord Alton immediately.
Buoyed by her success, Georgiana was across the threshold before she analysed his words. She came to an abrupt halt. Oh! But it was Lady Alton I wished to see.
Yes, of course, miss. If you would take a seat?
Unable to resist the deferential and strangely compelling courtesy of the impeccable butler, Georgiana found herself ushered into a beautifully appointed room and made comfortable in a wing-chair. Having ascertained that she was not in need of any refreshment thus early in the day, the dignified personage withdrew.
Feeling slightly dazed, Georgiana looked about her. The interior of Candlewick Hall did justice to its exterior. Exquisite taste and a judicious eye had chosen and arranged all the furnishings, creating and enhancing a mood of peace and serenity to match that of the gardens. Her hazel gaze wandered over the room, coming to rest on the large painting in pride of place above the mantelpiece. As a painters daughter, she could not do otherwise than admire Fragonard. She was intrigued, nevertheless, to find a picture incorporating numerous naked female forms so publicly displayed. A more private room would, she thought, have been more appropriate. But then, she reminded herself, she knew nothing of the latest whims of English social taste. And there was no doubt the Fragonard was an exquisite work of art.
The subtle colours of the room slowly eased her tension, seeping into her sight and mind. Georgiana smiled to herself and settled back in the chair. Candlewick Hall seemed designed to calm the senses. With a grateful sigh, she relaxed.
The effects of three late nights dragged at her eyelids. She would close them. Just for a moment.
THERES A YOUNG LADY to see you, mlord.
Dominic Ridgeley, fifth Viscount Alton, lifted his blue eyes to his butlers face. Around him, on the polished mahogany table, the remains of a substantial breakfast bore mute testimony to his recent occupation. But the dishes had been pushed aside to make way for a pile of letters, one of which his lordship clasped in one longfingered hand.
I beg your pardon?
A young lady has called, mlord. Not a quiver of emotion showed on the butlers lined face.
Lord Altons black brows rose. His features became perceptibly harder, his blue gaze perceptibly chillier. Have you taken leave of your senses, Duckett?
Such a question, in such a tone, would have reduced most servants to incoherent gibbering. But Duckett was a butler of the highest standing. And he had known the present Lord Alton from the cradle. He answered the question with an infinitesimal smile. Naturally not, mlord.
His answer appeared to appease his master. Lord Alton regarded his henchman with a puzzled and slightly wary frown. Oh?
At the prompt, Duckett explained. It seems the young lady requires assistance with some difficulty, mlord. She asked to see Lady Alton. She appears to be in some distress. I thought it wise not to turn her away. Her name is Miss Hartley.
Hartley? The black brows drew down. But there arent any Miss Hartleys at the Place, are there?
In response to his masters quizzical look, Duckett graciously informed him, I have heard that Mr James Hartleys daughter has been visiting the Place for the past few days. From the Continent, I believe.
Staying with frightful Charles? Poor girl.
Exactly so, mlord.
Lord Alton fixed Duckett with a suspicious look. You said she was distressed. Shes not weeping and having the vapours, is she?
Oh, no, mlord. Miss Hartley is perfectly composed.
Lord Alton frowned again. Then how do you know shes distressed?
Duckett coloured slightly. It was her hands, mlord. She was clutching her reticule so tightly, her knuckles were quite white.
Suitably impressed by his butlers astuteness, Lord Alton leant back in his chair, absent-mindedly laying the letter he had been reading on the pile before him. Then he glanced up. You think I should see her?
Duckett met his masters eye and did not misunderstand his question. No one who was acquainted with Lord Alton could fail to comprehend the delicacy of the matter. For a young lady to meet a gentleman alone, particularly in the gentlemans house, with no other lady anywhere about, was hardly the sort of behaviour someone as conservative as Duckett would normally encourage. And when the gentleman in question was Lord Dominic Alton, the situation took on an even more questionable hue. But Ducketts perception was acute. Miss Hartley was in trouble and out of her depth. His master could be relied upon to provide the answer to her troubles. And, regardless of his reputation, she stood in no danger from him. She was too young and too green, not his type at all. So, Duckett cleared his throat and said, Despite theerconventions, yes, mlord, I think you should see her.
With a sigh, Lord Alton rose, stretching to his full six feet. Relaxing, he shook out his cuffs and settled his dark blue coat over his broad shoulders. Then he looked up and wagged an admonitory finger at Duckett. If this lands me in scandal, old friend, itll be all your fault.
Duckett grinned and opened the door for his master. As you wish, mlord. Shes in the drawing-room.
With one last warning glance, Lord Alton passed through the door and crossed the hall.
GEORGIANAS DREAM was distinctly disturbing. In it, she had transformed into one of the nymphs depicted in the Fragonard canvas. Together with her unknown sisters, she cavorted freely through a sylvan glade, blushing at the cool drift of the breeze across her naked skin. Abruptly, she halted. Someone was watching her. She glanced around, blushing even more rosily. But there was no one in sight. The sensation of being watched grew. She opened her eyes.
And gazed bemusedly into eyes of cerulean blue.
Her gaze widened, and she saw the man behind the eyes. She stopped breathing, no longer sure which was reality and which the dream. For the man watching her, a gleam of undisguised appreciation in the depths of those beautiful blue eyes, was undoubtedly a god. And even more disturbing than her erotic dream. His shoulders were broad, filling her sight, his body long and lean and muscular. His face was strongly featured, yet held the clean lines painters adored. Thick dark hair cloaked his head in elegant waves, softening the effect of his determinedly squared chin. Finely drawn lips held the hint of a disturbing smile. And his eyes, glorious blue, set under strongly arched brows and framed by lashes too long and thick for a man, seemed to hold all the promise of a summers afternoon.
Oh! It was the most coherent response she could muster.
The vision smiled. Georgianas heart lurched.
You were sleeping so peacefully I was loath to disturb you.
The deep tones of his voice enclosed Georgiana in a warmth reminiscent of fine velvet. With an effort, she straightened, forcing her body to behave and her mind to function. IIm so sorry. I must have drifted off. I was waiting for Lady Alton.
The gentleman retreated slightly to lean one elegant arm along the mantelpiece, one booted foot resting on the hearth. The blue eyes, disconcertingly, remained trained on her face.
Im desolated to disappoint you. The smile that went with the words said otherwise. Allow me to introduce myself. Lord Dominic Alton, entirely at your service.
He swept her an elegant bow, blue eyes gleaming.
But alas, Ive yet to marry. There is, therefore, no Lady Alton.
Oh, how unfortunate!
The anguished assessment surprised Dominic. He was not used to such a response from personable young women. His lips twitched and his eyes came alight with unholy amusement. Quite!
His tone brought the hazel gaze to his face. But she showed no consciousness of her phrasing. Seeing real consternation in the warm hazel eyes, Dominic rejected the appealing idea of explaining it to her. Clearly, Ducketts assessment of her state was accurate. She might be sitting calmly, rather than indulging in hysterics, as females were so lamentably prone to do, but he had no doubt she was seriously adrift and knew not which way to turn. The expression in her wide hazel eyes said so. In response, he smiled beguilingly. But I gather you have some problem. Perhaps I could be of help?
His polite query flustered Georgiana. How could she explain? To a man?
ErI dont think She rose, clutching her reticule tightly. As she did so, her gaze went beyond Lord Alton to the Fragonard. Georgiana froze. What sort of man, with no wife, hung a scandalous masterpiece in his drawing-room? The answer threatened to scuttle what wits she still possessed.
Unknown to Georgiana, her thoughts passed clearly across her face, perfectly readable to the accomplished gentleman watching her. All Dominics experience told him to accept her withdrawal as the blessed release it doubtless was. But some whimsical and unexpected impulse pushed him to learn what strange story, what quirk of fate, was responsible for depositing such a very delightful morsel on his doorstep. Besides, he didnt entirely like her assumption that he was powerless to help her. He drew himself to his full height and fixed her with a stern eye. My dear Miss Hartley, I do hope youre not about to say you doubt that I can be of assistance before youve even told me the problem.
Georgiana blinked. She had, of course, been about to say just that. With the ground cut from under her feet, she struggled to find some acceptable way out.
Lord Alton was smiling again. Strange, she had never before encountered a smile that warmed her as his did.
Please sit down, Miss Hartley. Can I get you some refreshment? No? Well, then, why dont you just tell me what your problem is? I promise you, I dont shock easily.
Georgiana glanced up, but the blue eyes were innocent. Sinking once more into the wing-chair, she considered her choices. If she insisted on leaving Lord Alton without asking for his advice, where would she go? And, more importantly, how far behind her was Charles? That thought, more than any other, drove her to speak. I really wanted to ask for some adviceon what I should do, finding myself in the situation II now find myself in. She paused, wondering how detailed her explanation need be.
Which is? came the soft prompt.
The need to confide in someone was strong. Mentally shrugging, Georgiana threw caution to the winds. I recently returned to England from the Continent. Ive lived for the last twelve years in Italy with my father, James Hartley. He died a few months ago, leaving me to the guardianship of my uncle, Ernest Hartley.
She looked up. Lord Altons expression was sympathetic. He nodded encouragingly. Drawing a deep breath, she continued. I returned to England immediately. Ididnt wish to remain in Italy. On my arrival at Hartley Place, I learnt that my uncle had died a month or so before my father. My cousin Charles owns the Place now. Georgiana hesitated.