Chapter Six #3
To her relief, he relaxed and gave her a smile. ‘I won’t tease you about it,’ he agreed. ‘But that doesn’t change my opinion.’
A warning that he intended to bring this up later? Being ‘herself’ might serve with his friends, who apparently were not so conventional, either. But Society certainly was.
She had few illusions about how well she’d be received in London. The last thing she wanted was to endure a Season of subtle slights and snide disparagement, reviving all-too-vivid memories of the miserable years spent under her mother’s thumb.
Nor would she want to prove an impediment to Rafe as he assumed his new role. She might be an ideal partner in restoring Thornthwaite, but she had none of the skills necessary to be the sort of Society hostess who would prove an asset to a new earl.
Still not wanting to spoil what had been such a pleasant outing, she let the matter drop, returning instead to one other consideration that had troubled her.
‘So you did not resent—too much—being pulled from duty before your soldier’s task was completed?’ she asked, almost holding her breath over the answer. Their chances of a successful union would be vastly better if he held no lingering bitterness over being forced to return to England.
Rafe shook his head. ‘Though I like to feel I did my part, Wellington is growing ever closer to beating Boney anyway. I might have gone adventuring with Charles, but being abroad, for all that I enjoyed the experience, taught me how strong the pull of home is. I would always have returned eventually, though I’m not sure what I would have done; Thornthwaite could only have one master.
Buy a piece of unentailed land from Ian, perhaps, and breed horses.
I’ve always loved them, but when the steed one rides often makes the difference between death and survival on the battlefield, one’s appreciation for the animal increases exponentially. ’
‘Fell ponies and Suffolk Punch thrive here. Would you be interested in draft horses?’
‘Perhaps. With so many of the sheep farms on high, craggy land that makes carriage travel difficult, there’s still much demand for the ponies to transport wool.
I might also try Friesians. Several of the dragoons rode them; they’ve been used as war horses since medieval times.
Beautiful as they are, though, I’d rather raise them for riding or harness, not for battle.
But before exploring any other ventures, I need to rebuild the traditional sources of Thornthwaite’s income—sheep, cattle and wood products. ’
By now, following the meandering trail she’d chosen, they’d come out at the clearing bordering the small river that separated Thornthwaite land from her father’s estate at Edgerton.
Pulling up his mount, Rafe turned to her with a smile.
‘Of course you would lead us here. What fond memories I have of this spot.’
‘If you don’t mind, I’d like to stop, let the horses rest and do some sketching.’
Rafe scanned the surroundings. ‘You think there will be birds to sketch?’
‘No diving peregrines, but robins, nuthatches, jays or perhaps a grey wagtail might come for a drink. I had Cook pack some cider, bread and cheese for us.’ She couldn’t help giving him a beguiling look. ‘In case one’s…appetite stirred again.’
To her delight, heat flared in his eyes. ‘Don’t tempt me.’
‘I will later, if I can.’
‘Oh, you can. I’ll look forward to it.’
He came over to help her dismount, and though she was perfectly capable of doing so unaided, she let him, revelling in his touch as his fingers lingered on her sides, stroking gently.
She was tempted to try temping him there and then…
But though he knew her to be unconventional, he’d probably be shocked if she tried to lure him into intimacy here, out in the open.
He seemed pleased with her so far. Not wanting to jeopardize that approval, she restrained her instincts.
Instead, she unpacked the victuals while he spread out a blanket.
After they devoured the small repast, chatting about the tenants and the work they’d begin the following day, Juliana pulled out her sketchbook.
‘There’s a warbler on the willow over there,’ she said, pointing. ‘I’m going to do a quick rendering.’
‘Please do,’ he replied, gesturing towards the bird.
Though she was at first intently conscious of him watching her, the imperative to capture an image before her subject flew off soon had her wholly absorbed in her task.
Laying down her pencil a short time later, pleased to have got a rough sketch done before the bird’s departure, she couldn’t restrain a smile of delight.
‘Thank you! I can’t express how wonderful it is to know I shall be able to sketch openly, without having to hide away!
The only “art” allowed me at Edgerton for some time now has been painting insipid flowers on those detestable china plates. ’
‘May I see?’
‘If you wish,’ she said, suddenly self-conscious again as she somewhat reluctantly handed over the sketchbook.
Rafe studied the current sketch. ‘How well you captured his appearance in such a short time!’ Instead of returning the book, however, he began to flip through the pages while she watched him uncomfortably.
After a moment, he gazed back at her, looking struck.
‘I’m quite impressed! I knew you to be accomplished, but these are…
extraordinary!’ Flipping back several pages, he pointed to her rendering of a red squirrel.
‘See how he looks out from the paper inquiringly! I almost expect him to leap over and seize a bit of cheese from my hand! It’s a wonderfully faithful rendering. ’
Relieved and gratified that he approved, she said, ‘It’s easy to render faithfully something you love.’
‘As you obviously love all these creatures.’ Flipping again through the book, he said, ‘A red deer, a falcon…and this?’
‘A grebe.’ She named off others as he turned the pages and pointed, then identified the flowers and grasses she’d also sketched.
‘You certainly squeezed in as many images as the pages could hold. I wish you had spaced the drawings out more, so one could cut out individual sketches and frame them.’
‘It would have been better…but it’s the only sketchbook I have.
I purchased it when we were in London for Aggie’s Season, earning the funds by doing little chores for her, as she’d been given an allowance and I had no money.
I didn’t have enough to buy another, so I’ve been careful to conserve the space. ’
Hart looked affronted. ‘Your parents would begrudge you the cost of a sketchbook? I should think they would be proud of your ability!’
‘Oh, if I’d wanted to sketch or paint “womanly” subjects, they might have been. But they didn’t have much use for red squirrels and lesser grebes.’
‘How short-sighted! Your technique is unusual, too. Such…swirls of energy in the background—the gathering storm on the lake behind the tern! It reminds me of the painter J. M. W. Turner. I viewed his Fishermen at Sea at one of the exhibitions in London—it had the same dark, brooding atmosphere, with the moon in the distance, as in your sketch. Have you seen any of his work?’
‘No. I was able to slip away to the British Museum—what an excellent collection of animals and sea creatures they possess. But no gallery trips.’
‘We shall have to rectify that! I must take you to the next exhibition at the Royal Academy. Perhaps Turner will have some new paintings on display.’
Touching the sketchbook with almost reverence, he said, ‘I wish you could have traveled to the Peninsula! You would have loved discovering the birds, vegetation and animals of that region.’
‘I’m sure I would have. Though I’ve no ambition to travel so far, I have dreamed of someday visiting other regions of England to observe and sketch the living creatures there. Perhaps I may, someday.’
‘After we have Thornthwaite restored, I’d like to accompany you.’
He liked her drawings—and was interested in supporting her while she wandered to do more?
After being criticized by her family for so many years for her inclinations, a swell of gratitude at his honest appreciation moved her almost to tears.
‘I would like that, too,’ she whispered, emotion clogging her throat.
Handing her back the sketchbook, Rafe gazed up at the sky. ‘Shadows are lengthening. We’d better head back.’
Loath as she was to end what had become an enchanting interlude, she realized it was getting late, with duties awaiting them both at Thorne Hall. ‘Yes. Thank you for today. For letting me become reacquainted with a place I’ve loved so much and haven’t been able to visit in a long time.’
‘We reacquainted me, too. We must ride together often.’
‘I’d like that, too.’
Buoyed by their renewed rapport, Juliana let Rafe help her remount, his lingering caress of her side while doing so reminding her that he’d said he’d welcome her luring him to an interlude of pleasure later. The very idea incited a tingling sensation at her center.
It appeared that Rafe would remain the good friend he’d been in her youth, tolerant and supportive of her oddities—though the matter of accompanying him to London could remain a sticking point He might be a soldier used to giving commands, but she wouldn’t be commanded into doing something she so disliked.
Surely she’d be able to eventually convince him her presence there was unnecessary.
She would have to keep submerged the strong feelings for him he’d made more than clear he would neither appreciate nor want to reciprocate, even if he could.
But with a powerful mutual passion to underlie and deepen their friendship, she was cautiously hopeful that the desperation that led her to accept his offer might not end in disaster after all.