Chapter Two #2
‘Indeed I did. I’m glad now that I did not send advance warning of my return. I was able to remove the books, the strongbox and all the keys before Taylor realized I was on the premises. Where is Duxford, by the way? Retired or replaced, along with Mrs Henderson and Mrs Waverly?’
‘I’m afraid so. Sterling said the butler was the first to go, but as Duxford was getting on in years, his departure didn’t ring any alarm bells.
Until Taylor neglected to replace him—and then discharged both Mrs Henderson and Mrs Waverly.
Afraid for their own tenure after the departure of the housekeeper and the cook, several of the maids and kitchen staff left, too. ’
‘He got rid of senior staff first, then—anyone who might have the standing to challenge his authority,’ Rafe surmised.
‘Yes. It was only then, Sterling told us, that tenants around the estate began to question what was happening. You have the estate books, you say? Perhaps after going through them, you’ll find enough evidence of malfeasance that you can have Taylor prosecuted, wherever he may flee.’
‘At least he won’t have Thornthwaite cash, such as there was, to flee with. Unless he had some hidden away outside the house,’ Rafe said grimly, taking a long sip of his wine.
‘So you’ve discharged the villains, taken up the reins and assumed mastery of the estate?
Excellent achievements for your first few hours home, Rafe!
Though I suppose you are “Rafe” no more; it must be “Thornthwaite” now.
’ Referring to him by title would be a good first step in putting him at a distance, she thought.
He gave an impatient shake of his head. ‘I’ll always be “Rafe” to you, Mouse. Although you are changed now, too. Quite the grown-up lady! I suppose I should address you as “Miss Waverton.”’
‘I was already grown-up six years ago when Ian and I became engaged,’ she pointed out. ‘And I will always be “Mouse” to you, dear friend. Just that strange little girl who prowled the woods and fields collecting specimens.’
He gave her an odd, almost assessing look that sent a ripple of…something across her skin. As if he’d drawn a finger along her bare hand or arm, it made her stomach contract and set off a tingling deep inside her, warming her face and rendering her breathing shaky.
‘No, I mustn’t forget that you are grown,’ he continued after a moment. ‘Once you’ve helped me untangle the mess that is currently Thornthwaite, we shall have to untangle the future for Miss Waverton.’
Though formality might reinforce the distance she should maintain between them—and perhaps temper the strong physical pull he exerted on her—she couldn’t quite make herself relinquish the nickname born of his fondness.
‘Please don’t call me “Miss Waverton”! I spent most of my life as “Miss Juliana”, at least on the few occasions when anyone could be bothered to refer to me formally. With you, I much prefer “Mouse.”’
The strange, heated look that both excited and alarmed her fading from his eyes, he said, ‘Then “Mouse” you shall remain, at least when we are alone. I suppose in company it must be “Thornthwaite” and “Miss Waverton.”’
She nodded, trying to settle her disturbed senses.
‘That would be more proper. Mama always said “A lady must show suitable respect for the titled, especially titled gentlemen.” And speaking of Mama, I must warn you at once that we must be especially careful, once word spreads that you’ve returned, in case my parents turn up.
I’m hoping to give you my opinions of the way forward and return to Edgerton Manor before they learn you’re here and decide to pay a visit.
Mama, in particular, would like nothing better than to invent some reason to decide I’d been “compromised” and claim that you were honour-bound to marry me. ’
He cocked his head to the side, as if arrested. ‘It might not be such a bad idea, Mouse. I think we’d get along well together, don’t you?’
She knew Rafe didn’t love her—not the way she had once loved him, with total, passionate abandon. Still, she was surprised how much it hurt to have him mention the possibility of wedding her with all the ardor and enthusiasm he’d display in choosing between toast or beef for breakfast.
Hoping the pain didn’t show on her face, she made herself say calmly, ‘Wedding is one thing you can put off until later, once you’re well on the road to restoring Thornthwaite. And your choice of a bride is a decision you shouldn’t allow anyone to force.’
As heir, he would have to marry. She knew he’d not have the joy of marrying who he chose, but he would do his duty and treat his wife with courtesy and affection.
Juliana was certain any number of lovely, charming, well-bred maidens would fight for the chance to secure the position and security that would accompany becoming his countess, even if her husband treated her with nothing warmer than respect.
That would be sufficient for most females—as long as his bride didn’t need to conceal from him the passionate attachment she’d once felt—to say nothing of preventing it from recurring.
Living with a man you once loved with every ounce of your heart and soul, who felt for you only a tepid affection, would be painful beyond enduring.
Preventing him from reviving those feelings would be difficult enough for the relatively short time she anticipated remaining at Thornthwaite.
She wasn’t sure she would have the strength to keep them bottled up, were they to be on intimate terms for a lifetime.
And if she could not…if Rafe were to become aware that his wife loved him with a true passion, being Rafe, he would feel guilty and regretful that he was unable to reciprocate her feelings. Destroying the friendship she treasured and creating an impossible, unhappy situation for them both.
Reason enough to thrust aside the very idea of wedding Rafe before the insidiously tempting possibility could plant its poisonous tentacles in her mind.
‘You’re right. I must put my house in order before I can think to tempt any sane female into taking on Thornthwaite,’ he said ruefully.
Juliana shook her head at him. ‘Don’t be silly! You’re not simple “Lieutenant Tynesley” any longer, but a peer of the realm. Ladies will be flocking to attract your attention when you next appear in London.’
‘I suppose you’re right. It hasn’t yet quite sunk in that I’m now an earl.’ He shook his head ruefully. ‘What a coxcomb that makes me sound! I’m the same man I was six months ago, no more or less valuable or accomplished than when I was a younger son.’
‘In your eyes, perhaps, but that’s not the way of the world and you know it. You must prepare yourself to be flattered and deferred to—no matter how distasteful you will probably find it.’
He grimaced. ‘Distasteful indeed! Maybe I could console myself in the company of my army mate, Hart Edmenton. He, too, came into a title unexpectedly, though his inheritance was a dukedom, and he has as little use for pretense and flattery as I have. However, I and our other army mate, Charles Marsden, teased him so much about his unexpected elevation in rank, he’s more likely to chortle over my dilemma than sympathize. ’
‘You should have some months to accustom yourself,’ Juliana said encouragingly. ‘You’ll want to take your seat sometime during this session of Parliament, but you needn’t go to London immediately. And when you do, you’ll be free to associate only with the company you choose.’
‘Then I must surround myself with friends like you and Hart, who will keep me humble in the midst of the fawning attention.’
Was there any way she could help him then? ‘I’d be happy to be of assistance, but there’s little chance of my turning up in London,’ she confessed.
Then mentally kicked herself for giving him an opening to discuss her future when he immediately responded, ‘Will your parents not take you to the city for the Season? With Ian gone, they’ll be looking to find you another husband, surely.’
Even if they were, I’d never have anyone but you, she thought. And I can never have you.
‘I’m afraid a Season in London is out of the question. Papa even forbade Mama to go this year. Too many…financial reverses. And crop yields haven’t been good.’
Rafe studied her a minute before saying, ‘Is Carlisle accumulating debts again?’
Juliana felt little connection to the family that disdained her, but she wouldn’t speak ill of them. ‘I suppose he feels he must dress, entertain and gamble in the same manner as his Oxford friends.’
‘Your father doesn’t seek to limit his expenses—even when they put a strain on the estate?’
Juliana shrugged. ‘With Aggie married and me, everyone thought, settled, Papa has no potential obligations other than Carlisle’s.
Both he and Mama are proud that a baron’s son has friends from such high-born, influential families.
As the heir, they feel it only right that he maintain his position among them.
Which he couldn’t do, Mama says, if he must be a nipfarthing about expenses. ’
‘He’s not obligated to duplicate all their extravagances if his income won’t support it,’ Rafe retorted.
‘I heard all too much complaining about such behaviour from fellow officers, younger sons all, with whom I served. They, risking life and limb for England, while their older brothers were squandering the family funds betting on which goose would cross the meadow first in Green Park. Your brother should take more care, especially as you now are no longer settled.’