Chapter Twenty-Seven
T he next day, Adeline woke to early dawn light peeking through the curtains and Malcolm’s warm hand brushing down her cheek. She turned her head and kissed his palm.
“Care to take an early morning walk with me to see the manor?” he asked.
“All right.” She pushed her hair out of her face and sat up.
Malcolm slipped off the bed; he was already dressed. “I was going to go myself and let you sleep but…” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I don’t want to go alone.”
His expression was so sheepish Adeline wouldn’t have denied his request for all the gold in England. “Of course. Let me get dressed.”
Malcolm acted as her lady’s maid, helping her don a warm woolen dress and her muddy half-boots. She quickly pinned back the top half of her hair and grabbed her knit shawl. At the last moment, she picked up her carpet bag. At Malcolm’s questioning look, she said, “I don’t think we should leave it behind at this point. It’s safer with us.”
Outside, the air was chilly, and the sky dotted with gray clouds. The early morning sun peeked out above the horizon. Malcolm grasped her hand in his as they walked down the lane and out of the village. Kites Croft was tiny; as she walked through, she spotted a bakery, a butchery, and a haberdashery, and she counted maybe a dozen homes. The inn was also the local tavern. But there was no tailor, milliner, or even a bookshop.
“What is the local industry?” she asked.
“Most are farmers, fishermen, or smugglers.” He shrugged. “I admit I have not paid attention to crop reports or really anything about the estate. I was fifteen when I became the marquess and was immediately shipped off to the navy. It was easy to ignore correspondence sent to me when I even received it. Lord Hartwick appointed the land manager and the solicitors. Everything has run on its own for a long time.”
“Are you now interested in taking up the title properly and knowing what is happening here?”
He sighed. “Yes. I guess. I know I can no longer ignore my responsibilities.” He squeezed her hand. “It’s not far, about two miles. We can stroll leisurely.”
They walked for about half an hour through endless green fields, listening to the growing sounds of the sea, until, around a bend, the coastline appeared. It stretched out in front of them, rugged cliffs dropping straight down to the surging water, dramatic and beautiful.
“Oh, Malcolm, it is breathtaking.”
He stared out at the sea, his expression pensive. Then he turned from the view. “Bridestone Manor is this way.”
She followed him, his grip tight on her hand as though he needed their connection. The manor soon came into view—a large structure made from stone with peaked roofs and mullioned windows. They walked up the graveled drive and stopped next to a large fountain that no longer spewed water. She glanced over at Malcolm. He dropped her hand and walked closer, staring up at the house.
The bushes and flower beds were overgrown with weeds and bramble. Vines of ivy climbed the front of the house. The atmosphere was one of neglect and abandonment. She walked up to a window on one side of the front door. Cupping her hands, she peered inside and was not surprised to find furnishings covered in sheets; the room was empty except for portraits on the wall staring back at her.
She backed up, careful not to trip on vines and debris on the ground. She shaded her eyes, and squinting, looked up at the peaked roof of the west wing. Was that smoke coming from the chimney? Adeline turned to ask Malcolm if he could see the smoke and found him gone. Well, not entirely. About a hundred feet or so ahead, his tall figure walked briskly down the drive the way they had come.
Adeline put her hands on her hips. What was happening? She hefted the carpet bag and trudged after him. Turning back at the fountain to gaze up at the house one more time. Yes, that was definitely smoke coming from the chimney. And was that the flick of a curtain? Perhaps the caretakers lived here?
She continued after Malcolm. The house had to be the cause of his strange mood. He admitted that he had not been home since he was a boy, but the reason must have been more than his time in the navy. Something else had put the sadness in his expression as he stared at the manor.
When she finally caught up to him, he lay on the grass, staring at the sky. “Malcolm, are you all right?”
He didn’t answer, just screwed his eyes shut. Alarmed, Adeline lay down next to him. He reached for her hand, weaving their gloved fingers together.
She tried again. “Do you wish to tell me what has upset you?”
“I used to come here, to the edge of cliffs, as a boy and lay in grass where I knew I would be hidden. I would watch the clouds and breathe in the peace and quiet.”
He was quiet for a few minutes, and Adeline waited patiently for him to continue.
“I had four siblings, three sisters and my brother, Paul. He was the eldest, four years older than me. Then came my sister Emily, who was two years older, and the little ones, Margery and Sophia, were three and five years younger than me. So, you can imagine that the house was always raucous and full of life. I always had sisters plaguing me to play with them. They forever made me dress up and be the villain or, worse, the husband in their pretend games.”
Adeline turned on her side, propping her head up to stare at his profile. “Sounds like fun.”
He nodded. “I did miss them when I went off to school.” He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing behind the linen of his cravat. “The year I was twelve, the entire household fell ill with typhus. It killed my whole family and most of the servants. Paul and I were both at school for spring semester.”
She couldn’t hold back her gasp. His entire family had perished? Dear Lord. She laid a hand on his heart. “Malcolm, that is horrifying.”
“At first, we weren’t allowed to even come into the house for fear of contagion. The Earl of Tenwhestle, our closest neighbor north of here, took us into his home. They were all laid to rest here in the family cemetery. After the funeral, Paul and I couldn’t stand to be in the house when it felt so empty, so Paul rented us a house in London.”
“I can understand that.”
“Paul never went back to Oxford. He stayed in London and began to run around with a fast crowd. Drinking and gambling, carriage racing. He wrecked two phaetons rather dramatically but always came out unscathed. It was the gambling that turned out to be his downfall. Of course, I learned all this later from the gossips. Paul wagered away all his assets. The holdings my father had in Poole. The dowries that would never get used by my sisters. It took him three years to gamble away everything but the entitled estate. He still owed money, and with no way to pay it back, he took his own life.”
Malcolm sat, pulling up his knees and setting his arms atop them. He stared out at the horizon. Adeline scrambled up onto her knees. She wrapped her arms around him and placed her chin on his shoulder. She had no words in response to his tragic tale, so she simply hugged him. Her hair blew around them, enveloping them both.
“That is the real reason I have never returned to the estate. Why I have not cared to use my title. People whispered that the Kingsbury name was cursed. That perhaps the whole line was being wiped out in retaliation for some wrong that had been done.”
“What poppycock!”
Malcolm turned his head to look at her, his lips twitched in an almost-smile. He shrugged. “Fifteen-year-old me was more inclined to believe all the rumors and innuendo.”
She scooted around so she could cup his jaw with both hands. “Your line is not cursed. What happened was a terrible tragedy. Malcolm, you are the best person I have ever met. How you still live with such joy is a testament to your resilience of spirit. I admire you even more now that I understand your past.” She leaned in and kissed him softly. Lord, she loved this amazing man. She vowed to herself she would make him hers and give him a family of his own again.
He kissed her back, his hand threading through her hair as his tongue dipped into her mouth. Slow and sensual, she poured her feelings into their kiss. Dare she tell him how she felt?
“Oy! What are you doing on Kingsbury land?” a loud voice called out.
They broke apart to turn toward it. Three figures approached along the cliffside. Two men and a woman. Malcolm rose and pulled her up to standing. He straightened his shoulders as the three stopped a short distance from them. “I am Lord Kingsbury. This is my land. Who are you?”