Lord Exmouth's Intentions

‘As you may have gathered by now, my darling mother, together with most of my friends, has decided that it is high time I consider a second marriage.’

No response was forthcoming this time, so he continued undeterred. ‘It seems that most are in agreement that you would make me the ideal wife.’

Again there was no response.

‘They may possibly be correct, but I reserve the right to decide for myself. Just as I believe that you deserve the chance to make up your mind about me, without the least pressure being brought to bear upon you. That could be difficult in the present circumstances, with a certain person watching our every move, waiting with bated breath for us to announce our betrothal, unless we both work together to turn the situation in which we now find ourselves to our mutual advantage.’

She appeared merely bewildered now as she said, ‘And how do you propose that we do that, my lord?’

‘Simply by just being ourselves, and doing precisely what we wish to do. It would be foolish to attempt to avoid one another, as we’ll be residing in the same house, don’t you agree?’

‘Most assuredly.’

‘So what I suggest is that we keep the world guessing by being seen in each other’s company quite frequently, while at the same time not denying ourselves the pleasure of other people’s.’ He continued to hold her full attention. ‘Then, if by the end of the summer, when we have come to know each other a good deal better, we both decide that we should suit, all well and good, and if not…’

He reached for one of her hands and felt those slender, tapering fingers momentarily tremble in his clasp. ‘Either way, child, I want the decision to be ours, yours and mine. Not your mother’s, or mine, or anyone else’s, understand?’

It took a monumental effort, but Robina forced herself to meet his concerned and kindly gaze, and made a rather startling discovery. His eyes were not just a deep, warm brown but were flecked rather attractively with gold.

‘Yes, my lord, I do understand…And—and thank you,’ she said softly, blissfully ignorant of the fact that it had cost him dearly to suggest what he had, that the last thing in the world he had wanted was to release her from any obligations she might feel to marry him.

‘For what, silly child?’ His expressive brows rose. ‘For suggesting something that will benefit us both? Well, if you wish to show your appreciation, you can kindly stop calling me my lord. My name is Daniel.’

‘Oh, I couldn’t possibly address you like that, sir!’ She was genuinely shocked. ‘Mama would never approve.’

‘I’m not particularly interested whether she would or not,’ he returned bluntly. ‘You’ll be residing under my roof for the next few weeks, my girl, so you’ll do what I tell you, especially if you know what’s good for you.’

She gave an uncertain laugh. By repute he was a kind-hearted, considerate man, and yet some inner feminine wisdom warned her that there might be a less agreeable side to him if he was ever crossed. She had already discovered that he was not afraid to speak his mind, and couldn’t help wondering what other interesting facets to his character would emerge before this day was out.

‘Very well, little bird, we’ll compromise. When in private I insist you call me Daniel, and when in public you may call me what ever you like…’ white teeth flashed in a playful smile ‘…providing it is polite, of course.’

Giving the little hand a last reassuring squeeze, Daniel turned his attention back to the greys. ‘We had better catch up with my darling mama, otherwise she might imagine we’ve eloped.’

‘Oh, how excessively romantic!’ Robina exclaimed without thinking, and then turned a glowing crimson when she discovered herself on the receiving end of a startled glance.

‘Excessively uncomfortable, I would have thought,’ he contradicted, slowing his team down as they approached a busy little village, ‘especially if undertaken in an equipage such as this one, and it should come on to rain.’

‘People in love would not consider such a mundane thing as the weather, if they were considering running away together,’ she pointed out, rather enjoying his teasing banter, and liking too the way his eyes were brightened by that wickedly provocative glint.

‘I should,’ he argued, ‘but then I’m a practical sort of person, not given to mad starts. Besides which, having attained the great age of almost six-and-thirty, I enjoy my creature comforts and am far too old to go careering about the country. So I can tell you now, I shall never consider eloping with you.’

‘In that case, I think you were very wise to have second thoughts about making me an offer,’ she informed him quite deliberately, knowing that even half an hour ago she would never have considered saying such a thing to him. Now, however, she felt as if a very close friendship was on the verge of springing up between them. ‘It is quite evident to me at least that we would not have suited. I should very much like a gentleman to go careering about the country with me.’

‘I never said that I had had second thoughts about making you an offer, my girl,’ he corrected. ‘I merely said—What the devil!’

For a moment Robina was startled, then she saw it too—a great brute of a man beating a donkey with a stout stick, and very much appearing as if he was enjoying the exercise, while a woman, with two children frantically clutching at the folds of her skirts, was alternately shouting and pleading with him to stop.

Without a second thought Robina accepted the reins Daniel tossed into her hands, and then watched him stalk across the road. Easily capturing the stick, he proceeded to lay it about the bully’s shoulders before calmly knocking him to the ground with one superbly aimed blow to the jaw.

She was a little too far away to hear clearly what was being said, but a great deal of gesticulating, and swearing, she suspected, especially on the part of the felled bully, followed as Daniel calmly took something from inside his right boot. A moment later the pile of pots and pans which had been tied to the donkey’s back fell to the ground with a clatter, and a further heated altercation between the man and the woman ensued, before Daniel stepped into the breach once again.

Robina was only vaguely aware of what followed, for her attention was taken up with calming the greys, which had taken exception to the noise of the pots and pans clattering on the road. By the time she had them well under control again, the unkempt rogue was trudging off up the village street, carrying his wares on his own back, the two children, no longer sobbing, were leading the donkey into a paddock, and Daniel was accompanying the woman into a charming thatched cottage.

He reappeared a few minutes later, the woman at his heels this time, desperately striving to keep up with his long-striding gait, while attempting to offer her grateful thanks.

‘Not at all, my good woman. Only too pleased to be of assistance,’ Robina heard him say, before he doffed his hat, and came hurriedly across the road towards her.

‘My dear girl, I cannot apologise enough!’ There was an unmistakable flicker of concern in his eyes as he clambered up on the seat and relieved her of the reins. ‘What on earth must you think of me, deserting you in such a fashion! I sincerely trust you weren’t too nervous at being left in charge of the greys?’

‘Not at all,’ she assured him. ‘I frequently tool Papa’s one-horse gig when at home.’ She caught the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth, but didn’t attempt to enquire precisely what he had found so amusing, and merely asked for an account of what had taken place.

‘You saw what happened, I am ashamed to say, but there was little I could do to avoid your witnessing that unfortunate encounter.’ He gave the greys the office to start, once again handling the spirited pair with effortless ease. ‘I am not accounted a violent man, and yet I would be the first to admit that I have an almost pathological hatred for persons who inflict needless cruelty. It wasn’t sufficient for that oaf to pass by the gate of the donkey’s former, caring owners each day, he must needs stop to torment those children further by abusing a creature they both love, and had looked upon as a pet.’

‘How dreadful! I’m very glad we happened along. And now the donkey, I assume, has been restored to its former owners.’

‘Not quite.’ His smile was decidedly rueful. ‘He now belongs to me. I decided, all things considered, that it would be for the best.’

Robina managed to keep her countenance, but it was an effort. It was quite evident that he wasn’t precisely enthusiastic over this latest acquisition, and she could not resist the temptation to tease him a little.

‘I have observed during my weeks in London that it is not unusual for a gentleman of—how shall I phrase it?—an eccentric nature to indulge in rather queer starts from time to time. I suppose you suddenly discovered that you had need of a beast of burden?’

‘I am beginning to discover that there is a strong teasing element in your nature, my girl!’ The swift, narrow-eyed glance he cast her managed to betray both amusement and faint exasperation. ‘No, you provoking little baggage! I did not suddenly take it into my head that I wished to own such a creature. And if you dare to tell another living soul, you’ll regret it! I would become a laughingstock, and the talk of the clubs for weeks!’

She did not suppose for a moment that he would care a jot what the world at large said or thought about him, but she gave her solemn promise none the less, before demanding to know why he had taken it upon himself to make such an odd purchase.

‘Because I discovered that it was in fact that poor woman’s idle husband who sold the beast, before calmly going off and leaving her and their children to fend for themselves. She hasn’t seen him since and doesn’t expect to. There is, however, always the chance that he’ll turn up again, like the proverbial bad penny, and repeat the procedure, leaving her without the means to transport her goods to market, and depriving the children of their pet. So to overcome this possibility, I have given her a letter which states that, on condition she takes good care of the animal, she has my full permission, as its owner, to use the donkey to transport her goods to the local market, but on no account must my property be sold without my written consent.’

How exceedingly kind and considerate he was! Robina decided, as they rejoined the post road and she caught sight of her ladyship’s carriage in the distance. He had been generous to three perfect strangers and no less generous towards her.

By demanding only friendship, he had now made it possible for her to enjoy the weeks ahead without fear that at the end of her stay she would be asked for recompense.

So why then, she wondered, a frown of puzzlement creasing her brow, wasn’t she feeling deliriously happy at this precise moment? Furthermore, why had she suddenly developed this peculiar hollow feeling deep inside?

Chapter Three

Robina, still very much enjoying the novel experience of having her hair expertly dressed each day by Lady Exmouth’s skilful abigail, sat quietly before the dressing-table mirror, contemplating yet again how much her life had changed since she had left rural Northamptonshire behind her on that cold day in early March.

For a simple country girl, accustomed to comfort rather than luxury, and to lengthy periods of solitude, given to quiet reflection, or the pursuit of some useful occupation whereby she might be of some benefit to her fellow man, it was quite surprising the ease with which she had conformed to a hectic and purely social life, where the pursuit of personal pleasure was the only thing that need concern her to any degree. Her mother’s presence, understandably, had been a steadying influence during those heady weeks in London. Since her arrival in Brighton no restrictions had been placed upon her whatsoever. In fact, not to put too fine a point on it, she was being thoroughly spoilt by the darling Dowager and her no less considerate son. And she was shamefully loving every moment of it!

‘It’s simply no good at all. It must stop!’ she announced, with as much determination as she could muster, and without really realising that she had spoken her guilty thoughts aloud until she happened to glance up and noticed the middle-aged abigail’s slightly puzzled expression in the dressing-table mirror.

‘What’s the matter, miss? Don’t you care for this style any longer? We can always try something different if you’d prefer.’

‘I have no fault to find with the way you dress my hair, Pinner,’ Robina hurriedly assured her.

‘Well, that’s a blessing, miss!’ One could almost sense that the highly skilled and conscientious servant was suppressing a sigh of relief. ‘For one dreadful moment there I thought you were going to ask me to cut it. And that I would never willingly do,’ she announced, easing the brush almost reverently through the long shiny dark strands. ‘Beautiful, it is, and a sheer delight to dress, miss, just like the rest of you. There aren’t too many blessed with such a perfect figure as yours. You’re an abigail’s dream, Miss Robina, so you are! You’d look wonderfully turned out in a scullery-maid’s apron!’

‘You’re the one who deserves the credit, not I,’ Robina countered, desperately striving not to allow this fulsome praise go to her head.