Fenella J Miller Read online

  “Eleanor is a lovely name and suits you, my dear.” The children rushed back, waving the cricket equipment triumphantly. “Ah! Well done, you three. Let’s set out on our expedition.”

  Alexander tugged at his coat-tails. “Papa, you shall get your smart clothes ruined sitting on the grass.”

  He ruffled the little boy’s hair. “Quite correct, young man, I shall go at once and put on something my valet will not mind me spoiling.” He winked at her and vanished.

  Her pulse gradually returned to normal. “I have asked for the picnic to be brought out to us, along with something to sit on. Your papa will be changed in trice. Shall we set off? His legs are so much longer than ours, he will soon catch us up.”

  Alex wanted to turn somersaults but refrained. How could he have remained aloof from his delightful children for so many years? He was a selfish father. Anna would have been ashamed of him. Wallowing in self-pity and refusing to engage with his offspring was something he would regret for the rest of his life.

  He bounded up the stairs to his apartment. From now on things would be different. He’d been given a second chance and he wasn’t going to throw it away.

  “Foster, where the devil are you? Have I any old clothes suitable for boating and picnicking by the lake?”

  His manservant appeared instantly. “I can find something, my lord. Are you sure you are up to it?”

  “Damn it, man, I’ll not be mollycoddled. I wish to spend time with my wife and children and what better way than larking about by the water?”

  Ten minutes later he was striding after his family. His spirits soared as he watched the children gambolling around Eleanor’s skirts. For the first time in many years he felt optimistic; if he could not have love in his marriage, then friendship and affection would do. To see his little ones so happy in her company after so short a time was truly remarkable.

  His decision to marry her had been precipitate, but he had made the right choice. She was everything a mother should be: kind, honest and loving.

  Increasing his pace, he hailed the group. “Am I suitably attired? Will I pass muster and be allowed to sit on the grass?”

  Eleanor glanced over her shoulder at his call. “Good heavens! Alex, you look like a gardener. Wherever did you find that rig?”

  “Foster unearthed it; I feel quite liberated dressed as I am.” He scooped up his son and swung him round. “I believe, my boy, that I might even take a swim later on.”

  Lucy and Elizabeth exchanged anxious glances. “I don’t think Papa should have come out without a coat or neck cloth, and to have his sleeves rolled up…Mama, what will the servants think?”

  “Girls, your papa can do as he pleases; after all he is lord and master here. If he cares not for the opinion of others, then neither should you. I am wearing an ancient gown, and the brim is coming away on my bonnet.”

  Lucy nodded. “But it’s different for you. You do not go about in Society like Papa.”

  Smiling, Eleanor hugged the girls. “Quite right, my love. Look, our spot has already been chosen for us in the shade of the boathouse.”

  The three children raced ahead, leaving her to walk with Alex. A child’s chance remark had reminded her that she was a plain moth to his bright butterfly.

  “Good God! I thought we were coming on a picnic, Eleanor.”

  “I asked for some rugs to sit on, that was all.” Her amusement bubbled up and she could not prevent her giggles from escaping. “I cannot imagine why they have set up a table and chairs with damask napery and cutlery. There’s no sign of a picnic basket. Do you think footmen are going to march across here carrying the food on trays?”

  “I sincerely hope not. Do you think if I wave frantically someone will notice and send out to see what we want?”

  “Perhaps a flag made from a napkin would be more visible.”

  “Excellent, it will seem like we’re surrendering.”

  She watched his antics, finding him all but irresistible when he was like this. The children joined him in his tomfoolery and they pranced about like dancers around a maypole, waving the white squares above their heads. Whoever saw them would think they had run mad.

  “Alex, you may stop now. A positive cavalcade is rushing across the park.”

  “In which case, my dear, I shall leave you to arrange things as you wish. We shall go and see if the punt is usable.”

  By mid-afternoon they were all wet and dirty and ready to return. Alex was stretched out in the bottom of the punt. The children believed he was dozing; Eleanor was not so sanguine.

  “I think it’s time we went back to the house, children. I want you to return to the house and ask Mr Foster to bring a dry shirt and jacket for your papa. It’s not good for him to be so wet. I shall remain here and tidy up.”

  Lucy took the hands of her siblings. “We can do that, Mama. We’ve had such fun. I do hope you and Papa will take us on another picnic soon.”

  “We shall, my dear, when we have both recovered from today. Good, I can see Daisy coming out to fetch you. Hurry up and meet her then you can give her the message. I shall come up after nursery tea to read you a story.”

  As soon as they had gone, she hurried to the water’s edge. “Alex? Alex, you must come out of there, it’s time to return.” There was no response. Did his face look paler than before? Was he unconscious and not sleeping? If she bathed his face with water it might revive him. She viewed the boat with trepidation; she had avoided getting into it as she had no liking for the water.

  She would try one last time to rouse him, if that failed she had no choice, she must intervene herself. “Alex, wake up. I cannot stand about here all day waiting for you.” Still his eyes remained closed.

  Perhaps if she pulled the boat in closer to the bank she could lean in and bathe his face without the necessity of getting into the punt herself. With a napkin in one hand, she knelt and stretched out to grab the edge of the boat. The punt rocked alarmingly, she lost her balance and with a despairing cry fell headlong into the water.

  The weight of her skirts was dragging her down. The water wasn’t deep. She must not panic. She straightened. Her head cracked on the bottom of the punt. the shock made her release the last of her breath and her lungs filled with water.

  Alex heard the children leave. Eleanor was calling him, but he was too fatigued to answer. He should not have played that last game of cricket, but the children had been so appealing it had been impossible to refuse. He must gather his remaining strength and get himself out of this damned boat and back on dry land.

  Suddenly he was tipped sideways and a deluge of cold water covered him. Coughing and spluttering, he sat up and for a moment was not sure what had happened.

  God’s teeth! Eleanor has tumbled in.

  He rolled over the side and, taking a deep breath, dropped beneath the water.

  He could see nothing. There were too many reeds and rushes. He must search blind.

  Where the hell was she? Why doesn’t she stand up?

  Groping forward on his knees, his heart pounding, his chest bursting, his fingers found what he was seeking. Grabbing two handfuls of material, he dragged her from under the boat. With one arm around her shoulders, he stood up.

  Her head flopped against his shoulder, her eyes were closed and her lips tinged with blue.

  A tight band constricted his breathing.

  Please God, not again, not when I’ve just begun to feel my life is improving.

  Pounding feet behind him made him look over his shoulder. Foster arrived at his side and all but snatched his burden. “Here, my lord, place her ladyship over your knee. We must thump her back to restore her circulation and empty the water from her lungs.”

  Alex flung her across his knee and did as he was bid. How long could she remain comatose before she was too far gone to be revived? He felt a slight movement beneath his fingers and then she cast up her accounts on the grass.

  “Eleanor, thank the good Lord. I thought you’d drowned for sur
e. Here, my dear, allow me to help you sit up.”

  Someone was supporting her as she retched. When she had done she was gently cradled in strong arms. Her chest hurt, her eyes were stinging and she had a decided headache, but she was alive. She opened her eyes to find Alex gazing down at her, his face as white as chalk. He was as wet as she. He must have dived in to fish her out.

  “I owe you my life. I fell in and when I tried to stand I cracked my head on the bottom of the punt. I can remember nothing after that.”

  His lopsided grin warmed her. “What in God’s name were you doing? How did you come to tumble in?” She shivered. Despite the warmth of the afternoon sun, she was cold. Immediately he snatched up a picnic rug and enveloped her in it. “Tell me later, my dear. I must get you inside where you can be taken care of.”

  In one fluid movement he straightened, keeping her firmly in his arms.

  “I can walk, my lord. Please put me down at once. I have no wish to be carried back like a child.” In fact there was nothing she would have liked more than to remain safely in his hold, but he was in no fit state to be carrying her around.

  “Very well, Eleanor. You may walk but I shall keep my arm around your waist just in case you feel faint. Good God, woman, you almost drowned! You’re entitled to be carried back to the house after such a dreadful experience.” He placed her on the grass and her knees buckled. She collapsed in a wet heap at his feet.

  Foster knelt beside her. “If I might suggest a compromise, my lord. Allow me to carry Lady Bentley whilst you walk alongside.”

  Apparently, she was to have no say in the matter. She was to be handed from one to the other like an unwanted parcel.

  Not if she could help it.

  “If you could give me your arm, Mr Foster, I would much prefer to walk.”

  “You’ll do no such thing. Either Foster carries you or I do.” For the second time she was hoisted skywards, but on this occasion it was not her husband but his valet who held her aloft.

  Long before they reached the terrace, a small army of anxious retainers rushed out to meet them. She was relieved to be safely in her own chamber with only Sally to attend her.

  “My lady, what a to-do! You could have been drowned.”

  “But I wasn’t, and I don’t wish the children to be alarmed. They have only just recovered from the fright Lord Bentley gave them on his arrival.”

  Sally curtsied. “Your bath is drawn, my lady. Let me remove your wet garments; you’re shivering.”

  Once she was tucked up in bed, warm and dry and her teeth no longer chattering, she was able to review what had happened. Alex had been all but swooning in the bottom of the punt yet somehow he had found the strength to rescue her. He was indeed a remarkable man, which made it even worse that she was lying to him. Tomorrow she would tell him the whole. She would offer to leave if that’s what he wished.

  As she dozed she thought she heard his voice outside her chamber, then all was quiet. She must have been mistaken. On the verge of slumber, a gentle finger traced the outline of her mouth. Shocked, her eyes flew open.

  “So, my love, you are not asleep as your girl told me. I sent her to reassure the children and slipped in here in her absence. Now, are you well enough to tell me what happened?”

  She pushed herself upright. She could hardly object to him being in her bedroom; after all, they were man and wife. She wished she had insisted that Sally braid her hair for it was most disconcerting having it floating around her shoulders.

  “I thought you had swooned. I was leaning in to bathe your face, but unfortunately the boat moved. Before I could regain my balance, I was in the lake.”

  He stared at her as if she were a simpleton. “You leant on the side of the boat?”

  “I just said that I did.”

  His eyes were laughing down at her. “Didn’t you realize the boat would move? Why didn’t you drag it to the side before you attempted your rescue mission?”

  This was too much. Had she not just told him exactly what happened? Her head ached abominably.

  “My lord, this conversation is becoming tedious. I have no experience with boats and avoid all forms of water apart from that which I find in my bath. I apologize for my ignorance and promise not to offer you my assistance in future.”

  His expression changed. He sat back, no longer friendly. “I beg your pardon for intruding, my lady. I thought we had become good friends today. I was obviously mistaken.”

  The door closed behind him and she wished her words back. They had been getting on so well and now she had offended him by her sharpness. How could she reveal her secret when they were at odds? She would make up for her rudeness and work hard to restore matters between them. When the time was right she would tell him everything.

  But the days passed and she was too contented to ruin everything by telling him her secret.

  Chapter Eleven

  Alex had not thought he could feel this relaxed at his country home. He glanced over the newspaper that had arrived that morning. Eleanor was, as usual, scribbling away at her desk. She was his wife. These past weeks he had spent with her had made him realize it was possible to enjoy another woman’s company.

  She looked up and smiled at him. With a resigned sigh he folded his newspaper and gazed expectantly at her.

  “I was wondering what sort of party we should organize for Lucy’s ninth anniversary at the end of next week.”

  “Good God! I had no idea her birthday was so soon. I shall leave the matter in your capable hands, my dear. I have no idea what children of any age wish to do on their name day.”

  She frowned slightly, staring at him, her huge brown eyes demanding he take more interest. “Alex, we agreed when we spoke three weeks ago that you would be here to celebrate with your children. This does not mean just appearing at the party. You are required to have some involvement.”

  He tossed his newspaper to one side, admitting defeat. “Very well, what do you want me to do? I’ll not wear a silly hat or play childish games, but anything else I shall reluctantly agree to.”

  “I had thought we could invite the village children and their parents. We could have a series of sporting events for the children; perhaps a tug-of-war, a race or two, and any other activities Lucy might suggest.”

  “I shall not be required to take part in any of these things?” She looked too innocent. She was preparing to spring a trap on him, he was certain of it. He sat forward, fixing her with what he hoped was a forceful stare. “I must have your word I shall not be required to do anything ridiculous. I shall be most displeased if I find I have been misled in this matter.”

  Her eyes widened. “I give you my solemn word, sir, you shall be adjudicator and hand out the prizes at the end. I believe that could be considered as a suitably serious role for the Lord of the Manor.”

  “Very well, go ahead and organize things as you see fit. But I don’t think it wise to ask the villagers, could not the staff join in instead?”

  She stared at him as if he was a simpleton. “The whole point, my lord, is that our children have other children to race with. I hardly think they would enjoy being pitted against the staff.”

  Almost five years had passed since Anna had invited the villagers and their families to celebrate Alexander’s birth. How could he endure a similar event without her by his side? His pleasure in the moment evaporated like water on a summer’s day.

  “I shall leave arrangements to you. The new housekeeper appears to be as efficient as her uncle. Get her and Foster to assist you. The estate manager, Davies, should know the names of all my tenants.”

  He needed to get out of the house, away from the young woman who was slowly but surely taking over the role of mistress of Blakely Hall. He had married her to provide security and love for his children, but his brains must have been addled when he proposed. His injury had left him not in his right mind.

  He should never have allowed another to take over his beloved Anna’s position here.

&n
bsp; Eleanor felt the all-too-familiar tears behind her eyelids. She had become a veritable watering pot since arriving at Blakely Hall. Affection was developing between herself and her husband. Foster, although loyal to a fault, had let slip on more than one occasion that Bentley’s first wife had been his true love. Alex had vowed when she died in his arms he would never love another and would always remain true to her memory.

  The pen snapped in her hands and she looked down in disgust at the blots spoiling her neat list. Botheration! She would have to begin again on the note of repairs and refurbishments that, in her opinion, were necessary to make this vast establishment a home. The mice had got into much of the bedroom furniture and mattresses and bed hangings must be renewed. Everywhere needed a thorough cleaning.

  The clock struck the hour. The children were returning from their walk with their nursemaid. They burst into the small drawing-room Eleanor had taken as her own domain.

  “Here you are at last, my loves. Come and sit down, we have much to talk about.”

  Lucy dropped onto a footstool door whilst Elizabeth and Alexander climbed up onto the window seat.

  “Mama, can we have a water race?” Alexander shouted. Elizabeth pushed her little brother and he fell with a thud to the floor. Before they could start squabbling, Eleanor stepped in.

  “Enough of that. We shall not get this finished in time to send out the invitations if you two fuss over everything.” Immediately they scrambled back, each giving her an angelic smile. “I think, Lucy, we shall have a three-legged race, a race wearing hats, a backward-walking race, a tug-of-war, plus the ball at the wicket event. That’s more than enough for one afternoon. Are you satisfied with this selection?”

  Lucy jumped up and flung her arms around Eleanor. “I would not care if we had no games at all. I’ve never had a birthday party, at least not one that I can remember. Cook said she’s making me a cake that will have candles on, one for each my years.”

  “I know, my love, and you shall have gifts from us. However I think it’s appropriate for you to give something to the village children and not the other way around.”