Текст книги "Accidentally, Love"
Автор книги: Kate Harper
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Текущая страница: 6 (всего у книги 11 страниц)
The buzzing in her ears seemed to grow louder while the room grew a great deal smaller, shrinking in on itself, edges blurring away into ever growing shadows. She felt hot and cold and then she felt nothing at all as the shadows overtook all else.
Audrey slipped quietly from the room, or it slipped away from her, everything spinning into sudden darkness as the buzzing became a clamor and the world abruptly disappeared.
And then all went still.
Darius had been pleased to see the small inn appear not an hour after the snow had stopped. It had been falling ever since he had left the hostelry he had stayed in the night before and matters had not improved as he had continued on. Indeed, the flurries had grown so thick several times that he had been hard pressed to see the road before him. When it stopped it was a welcome relief, right enough, but the afternoon had rapidly turned into evening and from there into night and for the past few hours he had been travelling in darkness. He had no desire to fumble through snowdrifts, trying to find his way through unfamiliar territory and had been looking for a place to hold up until morning. By now, he wasn’t too fussy where that might prove to be, especially as it was icy cold. Instead of the moonlight one might reasonably expect when the skies had cleared, a mist permeated the air, seeming to rise off the snow itself. After so many hours on the road, all Darius wanted was a chair, a tankard of ale and a fire to stretch his boots out towards.
The soft glow of the light that had appeared up ahead was precisely what he needed, for his horse’s sake if nothing else. As soon as he drew closer he could see it was not one of the more prestigious inns that the gentry enjoyed frequenting but he could hardly be too particular under the circumstances. He was not familiar with Somerset and, whilst he knew he was heading towards his destination, Ilchester lying but fifteen miles behind him, he still wasn’t exactly sure how far it was to the village of Milton Styles. Somehow, he doubted he would stumble across it tonight. Better to leave it until the morning, if he didn’t change his mind and turn his horse’s nose back towards London. He was on a fool’s errand but then, he was behaving very much like a fool of late. As he continued on, he had ample opportunity to reflect that this damn journey was not going to plan – indeed, what had in the past few months? – and, that he would have been far better off if he had stayed in London.
The light of the inn was the first positive thing he had seen for some time and he leaned forward to slap his big bay gelding’s neck encouragingly. ‘Things are looking up, old boy. It appears that you will have a bed for the night after all.’
Horus whickered a reply that Darius suspected might be along the lines of, ‘About time!’ Under the circumstances he could hardly blame him.
It was a decent sized place, at least and he might reasonably expect a stall for Horus for the evening. He had considered knocking to see if there was a lad to assist him with his mount but instead, had discovered the stable himself, set back from the main building and already occupied by several horses. A young giant appeared from within the gloomy interior and stared at him as if he were an apparition, astonishment writ large upon his face.
‘Good evening,’ Darius observed easily. ‘I am after a stall and some fodder for my horse for the evening. Am I in luck? I can make it worth your while.’
The giant continued to stare at him for so long that Darius was beginning to wonder if he understood what he had said. Perhaps the boy was deaf? But then comprehension flowered and he started to nod slowly. ‘Aye.’
‘He’ll need rubbing down and a nosebag of oats, if you have them,’ Darius said, eyeing the boy. ‘Will you do that for him?’
‘Aye, we got oats, right enough,’ the young giant allowed, coming forward, his enormous feet kicking up small clouds of snow with every step. In his jacket and boots he looked like an ungainly colossus but he reached out to run his hand down Horus’ nose without any noticeable hesitation, which reassured Darius that the lad was far better with horses than he was with people, as was often the way of things with lads who chose such work. ‘Allus sort it.’
Undoing several buttons on his greatcoat, Darius reached into an inner pocket and found a coin. He offered it to the boy, who stared at it blankly. ‘For your trouble.’
The boy reached out a free hand and took it, squinting at the dull glint of copper for a moment, then carefully stowed it into an inner pocket of his own before he started to lead Horus towards the stable. Darius watched him disappear into the building before turning to trudge towards the front door. He hammered on it with enthusiasm, sick of being chilled to the bone and all at once craving the warmth of a fire.
He was not in the best of tempers and it had little to do with the miserable weather. His current circumstances and the thoughts that brought him to this sorry state of affairs only compounded a growing suspicion that he had lost his wits. He had grappled with this journey for weeks, calling himself all kinds of a fool before yielding to a compulsion he did not want even wish to acknowledge, never mind give in to. Suddenly, standing before the unprepossessing door of The Drunken Maiden, the whole situation seemed utterly absurd. What the devil was he doing, running around the countryside, trying to find succor for an ailment he could not name, let alone administer to? His uncharacteristic behavior over the past months was nothing more than an aberration and it was time he got over it. He would take shelter here for the night and then tomorrow, the weather being agreeable, he would head on back to London and the life he had been unable to settle into since returning to England in August. He would write to his old school friend who was expecting him to turn up over the next few days, apologizing for his non-appearance and then it would be over.
It would be done.
It was more than time that he put that damned night at Almack’s behind him. God knows, he had already come close to making a complete ass of himself. When he had heard that Audrey Hathaway had rejected his brother’s offer he had been awash with all manner of unexpected emotions. He could not fathom why she should have refused Roddy and his thoughts had returned to the subject with irksome frequency. Three times he had taken it into his head to ask her, to the point where he actually decided to seek her out. Once, at Vauxhall, he had lingered in the shadows, waiting for an opportunity to catch her alone. Unfortunately, the girl had learned caution since their last encounter and she stayed with her family. He had spent a good hour watching her, however, until it had occurred to him that he was behaving like an idiot. The second time he had thought to see her was at one of the entertainments Prinny enjoyed putting on in the park. He had glimpsed her among the trees, watching the fireworks that had been exploding across the water, her face lifted upwards in rapt delight. The sight of her had stopped him in his tracks. For a long moment, he had not been able to look away and he had felt something – something unnerving – shift within him. He had left without approaching her again, shaken and uncharacteristically uncertain about his own feelings.
The third time he had come across her by accident and under the most prosaic of circumstances. He had been cutting across the park, preoccupied with his own internal landscape, wondering why he was experiencing so much difficulty in returning to his carefree existence. There wasn’t any reason for him to still be in England. Usually he would have left for the continent weeks before but for some reason, he continued to linger, spending time at his club, listening to gossip. It was surprising how much men gossiped! They were, in their own way, very much like the old tabbies that gathered on the edges of the dance floors, deconstructing characters and imbuing the worst possible motives to the actions of others. So preoccupied was he with his irksome introspection that he almost stumbled across Audrey Hathaway emerging from one of the many arbors that were situated around the place. Ironically, considering his restless thoughts had settled upon her once again, he had not noticed a figure emerging until he was almost upon her. He had sidestepped, an automatic apology on his lips, which had died into silence when he had looked into her wide, startled eyes.
‘Miss Hathaway!’ The words had been abrupt to the point of rude.
The color seemed to drain from her lovely face, leaving it the color of fresh fallen snow before there came a sudden rush of pink, suffusing her skin. It was enchanting. She opened, then closed her lips, before taking herself in hand. ‘Mr. Kirkwood,’ she said, with credible composure and no more than a small, telltale quiver in her voice to give away her discomfort at seeing him again.
He had stared at her, drinking in the sight of her face as a thirsty man might drink in water. In the pale golden sunlight she looked a vision and his fingers itched to touch her. He glanced around quickly and found that they were alone.
How very unfortunate.
‘You refused Allingham.’ The words came out almost without conscious volition. He had really wanted to know why she had refused his brother.
She hesitated, glancing around herself. Looking for the reassurance of her companions, who must surely be close by. Young women did not walk in the park by themselves. ‘I do not believe that I wish to discuss it.’ She had sounded both desperate and nervous.
‘I am quite sure you don’t, but tell me anyway.’
Audrey had bitten her soft, full under lip. The sight of that small movement had caused an abrupt eddy of heat to surge through him, quite shocking in its intensity.
‘I have to go!’
‘In a moment. Just tell me. Please.’
She had cast him an anguished glance. ‘If you must know, I felt we would not be suited. And now, if you will excuse me, Sir -’
‘Why the devil wouldn’t you be suited?’ he insisted. ‘Dear God, any fool could tell you that Roddy is a catch. You intended to marry him. I know you did. Why the devil did you change your mind?’
‘I do not want to discuss this!’
‘Oh, for God’s sake…’ She had gone to turn away from him and he had reached out instinctively, unwilling to let her go. Damn it, he never wanted to let her go! Common sense – or even plain courtesy – seemed to have vanished in his irrational compulsion to understand why Audrey had rejected Roddy’s offer. He had caught hold of her upper arm and she had turned to stone beneath his touch, as if suddenly frozen to the spot. He knew he should have released her immediately. But he had not. ‘Tell me,’ he said again, voice dropping.
‘I could not,’ she said, voice barely audible. ‘It would have been quite wrong of me to do so.’
‘But you had been going to?’ he had insisted. His hand had remained on her arm because he had not wanted to break contact. On the contrary, he had experienced an overwhelming urge to pull her against him, tilt her chin up and kiss her thoroughly. And that had not been the least of it. That kiss would have been – should have been – followed by all manner of other actions, all of them intimate, all of them delightful. His feelings for Audrey were both incandescent and unreasonable in almost equal measure. Even as he had fought the compulsion to touch her, he had understood that he was not thinking as a rational being.
Audrey Hathaway had stripped him of that faculty ever since that damned night at Almack’s.
She drew a deep breath and he saw the faint shadows beneath her eyes, the tiny signs of strain on her face. It made him wonder… had the past weeks been as difficult for her?
‘I could not accept his offer because I could not give him what he deserved,’ she had said with quiet dignity. ‘Your brother is a good man. He should marry a woman who can… who can fully reciprocate his affections.’
‘And why couldn’t you?’ he had demanded harshly. ‘Was it because of me?’
She had stared at him, blue-green eyes full of anguish. ‘You know it was…’ It had been a whisper.
‘Oh I know well enough.’ He had released her arm, but only to smooth his thumb across her mouth, unable to resist touching the delicate skin. It was such a delightfully sensuous mouth and her obvious innocence only provoked him further, for it would be a rare pleasure to teach her all of the wonders to be found in her body. Wonders that she might never discover, if she married some idiotic clod. The very idea of Audrey marrying somebody, of giving herself to some man, was surprisingly painful. Unpleasantly so. Somehow, he had taken the notion into his head that she belonged to him, no matter how impossible, how illogical, that was.
He did not want to settle with any one woman.
And even if he did, what woman would want to marry a bastard? Certainly not a respectable female from a respectable family.
Audrey Hathaway was as unattainable as the stars.
Remarkably, she had not flinched from the outrageous intimacy of his touch. Indeed, for a moment she had closed her eyes and swayed a little closer and he had been moments away from stepping forward and taking her into his arms when the sound of voices from the arbor had shaken them both free of the moment.
‘Audrey? Where are you, my dear?’
Lady Hathaway had arrived and not a moment too soon. He had stepped back hastily. With a last look at him, Audrey had turned abruptly, hurrying back into the arbor, no doubt to head her mother off and he had walked quickly on, shaken and even more disturbed than he had been before their second, unexpected meeting.
After that, he had stayed away. He had fully intended to continue to do so until whatever insanity that gripped him released its hold. But his thoughts about the girl did not abate and the need to see her, to talk to her had grown until it had overcome his good judgment. He had taken it into his head to head into Somerset and see her in her own surroundings. To what end, he could not say for he found himself curiously unwilling to investigate any further than the journey. Fortuitously, he had a friend who lived in Somerset, Linus Devonport, with whom he had shared all manner of hijinks at Oxford. Devonport was married now and had taken on the life of a comfortable country squire but he had written back that he would be delighted to put Darius up for however long he cared to stay.
Two days ago, Darius had set off from London. And now he was here, in the middle of God-knew-where, reflecting that this quest was cursed and that he might as well forget it. He would have done so if it weren’t for that same, niggling urge that would not leave him alone. Audrey had rejected Roddy’s proposal because of him, she had said as much. But had it been because she was worried that she would encounter him if she married into the family or was it because of something else, something far more meaningful? If he only knew the answer, then he reasoned that he might know what to do next. Because at the moment, he was well and truly stymied as to his next course of action.
It had all made a kind of sense back in London, or at least as much sense as anything did.
But right now, it appeared to be a ridiculous piece of whimsy that would gain him nothing. He had not thought himself capable of whimsy, not at the advanced age of seven and twenty. But a long, cold ride had given him the opportunity to reason out the issue and he could see now that he’d strayed far from his usual, sensible course. He had been happy enough because he had recognized his boundaries, creating a life that was comfortably free of any real emotional entanglements.
And yet here he was, standing in the snow. All because of a woman.
Tomorrow he would start back for London and the moment he arrived he would secure a passage on a ship to France. It was time he immersed himself in all that Italy and Sicily had to offer, as he did every year at this time. Let’s just see how six months spent in familiar, more hospitable climes could do for his restless spirit. Hell, why should he stay only six months? There was no pressing reason that he needed to return to England now that Constance was free of her useless husband and Roddy had attained his twenty-third year and was in control of his fortune. Darius had done his duty and handed over the reins of the Allingham estate to his half-brother, just as their father had wanted him to and now Roddy’s financial future was in his own hands. Darius was free to go wherever he wished, for as long as he wished, with whomever he wished. Usually, it was in his own company for he had always preferred it that way, ever since his father’s death.
Yes, he’d concluded some miles back as he had slogged on through the thick blanket of snow, it is time to shake free of this folly and take myself in hand. No more thoughts about a girl with honey-gold hair and large, innocent eyes. The memory of that damned kiss and those two, brief meetings will fade in time and Audrey Hathaway will be nothing more than a vaguely disturbing memory. I just need to get away for a time…
It should have been comforting to have come up with such an excellent plan but he was still troubled by the thought that he had been the reason Audrey had turned Roddy down. Devil take it, what were her feelings towards him? Did she lay awake at night, as he did, thinking about their encounters? He had never felt such a rampant desire to know what was in another person’s heart before and it made him feel ridiculously vulnerable. That one girl could affect him so profoundly, could haunt his dreams, and invade his head with memories that had the power to set him on fire.
He might be all kinds of a fool – indeed, he could not be anything else – but he felt as if she belonged in his arms. More than that, he could not escape the feeling that she belonged in his life, at his side, in his bed. Oh, most assuredly in his bed!
Puppy love, you wretched fool. And at your age, too…
How unutterably sad.
Mouth tightening, he hammered on the door again. A large man, presumably the landlord, opened the door, wiping a hand on the dishrag he held as he beamed at the newcomer. It did not take a great deal to explain his situation and Mr. Fumble was more than happy to oblige.
‘A bed for the night, you say? I’m sure we can accommodate you, Sir. Tis fierce bad weather we’re having and no mistake. I’ve got one bedchamber left and I’ll have the fire lit in it immediately. We’ve had a couple of parties take refuge here but not to worry, there’s room enough. You’re just in time, dinner is on its way.’
‘You have other guests staying?’ Darius inquired, thinking back to those horses in the stables. He had not seen a carriage but then, a carriage would undoubtedly be housed in the barn, the stables not being capacious enough to hold anything bigger than a cart.
‘Oh aye, that we do, Sir. Quite a full house tonight. A nice family arrived last night before dinner and we’ve had another lot come in a couple o’ hour ago. They’re gentry, like yourself, Sir so I expect it’ll be pleasant enough. They’ve taken up in the front parlor but I’m sure they’ll be pleased to share. I’ve got a good fire going in there.’
Darius was mildly dismayed to hear that there was an entire family in residence; it would necessitate conversation he would have preferred to avoid. But it was cheering to hear about the fire. He was willing to be civil to a whole host of people if he could only thaw out a little. ‘It’s damned cold.’
‘It is an’ all. But I reckon the snow’ll hold off for a couple of days now before the next lot comes down.’
‘Country wisdom, Mr. Fumble?’ Darius murmured wryly.
‘Sensitive knees, rather. One always knows when it will be damp, the other when the sun’ll come out. We’re due for some sun tomorrow, just you wait an’ see.’
‘I trust your knees have the right of it.’
A curious sensation overtook him as he went down the hallway. Even before the landlord had opened the door, even before either of them had stepped into the room, Darius suddenly experienced an odd sense of inevitability, as if this moment had been meant to happen from the moment he had swung himself into the saddle back in London yesterday. He did not know why he felt so certain but the sense of predestination settled like a tangible weight around his shoulders. He listened vaguely as Fumble spoke but he was already stepping past him, his eyes instinctively seeking out the one face that he knew he would find.
The face that he had carried with him constantly over the past four months.
The girl who had brought him out in this wretched weather on a search that he hoped would free him from a memory he could not forget. For he was inclined to think he had been bewitched, that night at Almack’s when he had taken a lovely young woman into his arms and kissed her. He had not meant for it to happen but there had been no turning back after he had touched her.
And here she was, the girl who had been haunting his dreams. His eyes fixed on her face and he stared at her, watching the color drain away once more, leaving her deathly pale. Their eyes locked and a strange surge of triumph rushed through him, a sense that he had finally done what fate had intended him to do all along. He had found her at last. He could hear a familiar voice utter an exclamation but he was barely aware of the words, his whole being suddenly occupied with the one thing in the room that meant a damn.
Audrey Hathaway was here. Now he would have the opportunity to understand what it was that had changed in his world since the first night he had met this girl.
He took a half step forward, then stopped abruptly as she slid gracefully off the chair, falling across the rug in a dead faint.
Without a word, he strode across the room and swept her up into his arms.