Lords Of Desire Part 41

Edith rose to face her, her hands planted firmly on her hips. "If you will not see reason, then I suppose I am. What an awkward position you've put us in!"

"If only someone had first asked my thoughts on the matter, there would be no awkward position at all."

Tears gathered in Edith's soft brown eyes. "Please don't think I'm criticizing John. He's a good man, and I am quite fond of him. It's just that I want to see you happy, Christobel-as happy as I am with Jasper. I was so sure that Sir Edmund...well, I thought you two so perfectly matched."

"Oh, Edith, please don't cry." This time, it was Christobel who reached for her sister's hand. "I am happy, don't you see? With John. I know you meant well, and in theory you were entirely correct. On paper, I suppose Sir Edmund and I are well matched. Only it turns out my heart knew better, that's all."

Edith gave her hand a squeeze. "You're certain?"

Christobel nodded. "Entirely so."

"I'll go speak with Jasper straightaway, then."

"And please, do everything you can to spare Sir Edmund any embarra.s.sment. Do you think it would be better if I spoke to him myself?"

"No, I think it better if Jasper tells him. They're old chums, after all. Besides, you look like a tinker-look at you, covered in dust from head to toe. I think it best if you go have a bath."

Christobel let out a sigh of relief. Cowardly of her, she realized. Sir Edmund was a kind man, a generous man. Truly, he did not deserve this. If only Edith hadn't encouraged him so!

"Thank you, Edie," she said, holding her tongue for once in her life. "I will go have a bath. I'm quite sure I smell of eau de corsage."

"Some gentlemen find the scent intoxicating, I'm told," Edith said, wrinkling her nose.

Some gentlemen don't have the sense G.o.d gave a goat, Christobel thought rather uncharitably. But of course, she couldn't say that. The last thing she wanted to do was vex her sister any more than she'd already done.

"Do they?" she said, instead. "How very interesting, indeed."

She glanced at the clock-it was nearly noon. Wherever was John?

CHAPTER 9.

Just as he expected, John found Christobel sitting on a mackintosh square beside the ornamental pond, a lacy parasol shading her from the sun's rays.

She must have heard his approach, yet she gave no indication of it as she stared straight ahead, watching a frog hop from one lily pad to the next as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world.

She was as elegantly attired as always, her pale, rose-colored gown trimmed in lace, the high collar ending in a row of ruffles just beneath her chin. Wide, puffy sleeves tapered at her elbows, narrowing down to her delicate wrists.

A row of bows a shade darker than the rest of her gown adorned the front of her bodice, matching the sash that tied about her waist and ended in silver ta.s.sels that fluttered on the breeze. Several strands of pearls lay across her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and a wide straw hat with enormous silk flowers sat at an angle upon her head.

As always, the sight of her took his breath away, making him feel awkward, oafish. How could he ever have thought himself her equal?

Without a word, he joined her there on the gra.s.sy knoll, lowering himself to the ground beside her. For a full minute they sat there in silence, till John could stand it no more.

"You were right," he said. "It is lovely here this time of day."

Still, she stared straight ahead. "I've been waiting for you for hours," she said at last, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's nearly time for tea."

"I apologize. I had to...had some business to attend to at home. It took the better part of the day."

"I see," was all she said in reply, her gaze still trained on the pond ahead.

He cleared his throat before continuing, thankful that she refused to meet his eyes. For if she had, he couldn't have borne what he was about to say. "I heard about your marriage proposal. From Jasper's groom, just as I drove up."

Her head snapped toward him at once. "Oh? Good news travels fast, doesn't it?"

So it was true, then. "As soon as I heard, I came looking for you. To offer my congratulations."

"Congratulations? Surely you didn't think-"

"I realize that I've acted coa.r.s.e and common," he interrupted, anxious to speak his piece. "What I've done to you...I've no excuse for it. I cannot claim to be a gentleman. Sir Edmund is a fine man, and I deeply regret that I have taken what was rightfully his-"

"You stupid, stupid man!" Christobel dropped her parasol and scrambled to her feet, her cheeks stained an angry red. "Do you honestly think that I accepted Sir Edmund's offer?"

John rose to face her, jamming his hands into his pockets. His fingers closed around the ring he'd planned to give her, right up until he'd leaped out of his car, his heart near to bursting with joy, and heard about Sir Edmund's proposal. Right then and there, all his happiness had evaporated, leaving him empty, bereft.

Thank G.o.d he'd had the fort.i.tude to withdraw himself yesterday before he'd spilled his seed inside her. It was bad enough that he'd stolen her virginity so roughly, so impatiently. He'd taken her up against a wall, for G.o.d's sake. But at least he hadn't risked impregnating her. And after what he'd done to her last night...

"How could I expect otherwise? I'm not a fool, Christobel," he said. "I know well enough that I'm not of your cla.s.s, not of your world."

Before he realized what was happening, her hand flew out and struck him across one cheek. "You are a fool, John Leyden. My only regret is that I was a worse one."

He reached up to rub his smarting cheek, inadvertently dropping the ring to the gra.s.s below as he did so. It bounced off his shoe and landed mere inches from Christobel's dainty slippers, the sun glinting off the gold setting.

"What's this?" she asked, bending down to retrieve it. He saw her eyes widen a fraction as she clasped it between her finger and thumb and raised it to examine it more closely, her dark brows knitted in confusion.

"It was my grandmother's," he said, his voice suddenly thick as he stared at the jewel. It was exquisite, not a flashy bauble like his father's friends' wives favored, but a simple, understated piece-an heirloom that had been pa.s.sed down through the generations on his late mother's side. An enormous emerald, square cut and without a single flaw, flanked by two triangular diamonds, both of which were equally flawless.

"Why on earth are you carrying it around, then? A piece like this...well, it should be locked in a safe somewhere, John." As she held it aloft, he saw that the gem perfectly matched her eyes, just as he supposed it would.

"I visited her just this morning. My grandmother," he clarified. "A grand old woman, nearly ninety and still full of life. I had to go see her, to tell her about you and to ask for the ring-"

"This ring was meant for me?" she interjected, her voice rising a pitch. "Why? Why, John?"

What the b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l, he might as well tell her-might as well expose himself for what he was. "I meant to ask you to marry me, Christobel. I d.a.m.n well know it was foolish of me, but I couldn't help but-"

"Oh, John!" she cried out, launching herself into his arms. Her hands went round his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair as she buried her face in his coat. "I thought you didn't...thought it was just me-"

"Never," he said hoa.r.s.ely. "By G.o.d, Christobel, I've loved you for so long. I never dared to hope you'd feel the same. But after yesterday-"

"Kiss me, John. Please!"

So he did-long and hard.

Christobel's head began to swim as she clutched John more tightly, her legs growing strangely weak beneath her. Heavens, but his kisses always seemed to have that effect on her.

She pulled away, breathlessly. "You've gone and made my knees weak again, John. I really must sit."

"What if I hold you, instead?" he offered, sweeping her up into his arms as if she were as light as a feather.

Oh, but it felt so right in his arms. So perfect! She couldn't explain it, but he'd swept her away entirely-body and soul. Swept away everything she'd thought she'd known about him-every prejudice, every supposition-and replaced it with a wonderful truth, instead.

"Have you any idea how much I adore you?" she asked, laying her cheek against his heart.

"No, but marry me, and-wait, I'm not doing this properly. This, at least, I'll do as a gentleman would," he said, setting her back on her feet and reaching for one hand.

"You're every inch a gentleman, John. The finest gentleman I've ever known," she said, meaning every word of it.

He didn't reply. Instead, he dropped to one knee, her hand still clasped in both of his. "Marry me, Christobel Smyth?"

She would have laughed, but he looked so earnest, so solemn. Solemn as a bishop, she thought, smiling inwardly. That was her John, the kindest, most honest man she knew.

"Of course I will," she said softly, her heart near to bursting with happiness.

For perhaps the first time in all the years she'd known him, his entire face lit with a smile-the most glorious smile she'd ever seen. "It's a perfect fit," he said, slipping the heavy ring onto her finger.

She held up her hand and admired it, turning it this way and that so the waning sun reflected off the precious gems. "Truly, I've never owned such a lovely piece as this."

His smile vanished almost as quickly as it had appeared. "You realize my home is in Cranford-a town house. I haven't a country house like Jasper; nothing like this," he said, gesturing toward the manicured gardens behind them. "And you so fond of the outdoors. It will never do."

"Dear John, don't you see? My home is wherever you are. I'm sure I'll come to appreciate Cranford as time goes on. It'll just take some getting used to, that's all."

"Milne Abbey," he said, nodding to himself. "Of course. Why didn't I think of it before?"

"Milne Abbey?" Christobel had never heard of the place.

"It's not more than a half hour's drive from here, by motorcar. It's an old, rambling farmhouse in need of some work, but the grounds are immense. They've been looking for a buyer for quite some time, so I can get it for a fair price, no doubt."

"No, John." Christobel shook her head. "It's not necessary. I'm sure your house in town is perfectly satisfactory, and-"

"It'll be my wedding gift to you." He reached for her hand and began leading her toward the path, abandoning her mackintosh square and parasol. "Let's drive out there now, and I'll show you."

Christobel hurried to keep up with him, matching her gait to his slightly uneven one. "Goodness, don't you think we should go back to the house and tell them our news first? I'm quite sure they're all staring out the windows right now, wondering just what's going on."

He favored her with yet another dazzling smile. "Won't they be surprised?"

"Not terribly so," Christobel said with a shrug. "I already told them I was in love with you. At least, I told Edith I was. I'm sure everyone from the housekeeper down to the groom knows by now. If only you'd waited in the stables a little longer, you might have heard that particular part of the tale."

Slowing his pace, he wrapped one arm about her shoulders. "You know, I've never much cared for house parties. But I believe this was the best Sat.u.r.day-to-Monday I've ever attended. I'll have to express my appreciation to your sister."

"Don't you dare! She'll be swelled enough with pride as it is. Four years in a row now, with successful matches, even if ours wasn't one she expected. Still, she's quite the little matchmaker, isn't she?"

John paused, wrapping his arms about her and burying his face in her neck. "She is, indeed," he murmured.

Her pulse leapt as a wave of desire washed over her. "Do you think perhaps we can find a place to be alone while we're out visiting Milne Abbey? Is there, for instance, an old, abandoned sawmill on the property somewhere?"

His eyes gleamed wickedly as he met her heated gaze. "Oh? And just what would we do there?"

"I can think of several things. Several naughty things, in fact."

"I'm afraid an old mill won't do this time. When I next make love to you, Christobel, I'll do it right."

"Are you saying that what we did yesterday wasn't done right, John? For it felt right enough to me. Both times," she added.

"I'm saying that next time we'll both remove every piece of our clothing first. Two, there will be a bed involved, or a cushioned chaise at the very least, and there will be light enough to see. And three-"

"There they are!" a voice called out, and Christobel turned to see Edith waving gaily from the edge of the garden, their mother there beside her.

"Later, then," John whispered as he returned the ladies' friendly wave.

"Not too much later," Christobel whispered back.

John laughed then, a deep, hearty laugh. "Who would have thought you had such mischief in you?"

Her own words, thrown back at her.

Little did he know, she had plenty more mischief in her, and all the time in the world to show him.

A lifetime, in fact.

Five months later "Goodness, Edith, but he's beautiful." Christobel peered down at the squirming bundle that her sister held tightly to her breast. "Have you settled on a name?"

"Jasper wants to call him Ezekiel," Edith answered, glancing down at the sleeping babe with obvious pride.

"Such a mouthful for so small a boy. Will you call him Zeke?"

"I hadn't thought of it. Zeke," Edith tested. "Yes, that will do nicely."

Still sleeping, the baby made a snuffling noise, raising one tiny fist in the air and waving it about like a prizefighter might.

"Do you suppose that means he approves?" Christobel asked with a laugh.

"He hasn't much choice, has he?" Edith reached down to stroke his soft, dark hair.

Christobel rose, one arm wrapped about the bedpost as she stared down at the pair. "You look exhausted, Edie. Shall I leave you both to get some rest before supper?"

"Don't be silly! I've done nothing but rest for the past two days. Stay." Edith patted the mattress beside her. "Tell me, how is Marie settling in?"

"Very well. She's got a room in Mrs. Sharp's house, not very large, but safe and respectable. I vow, you'd barely recognize her, she's grown so confident and a.s.sured! She's a natural teacher-the children adore her."

"From what John tells Jasper, the children adore you, too. I hope you are not running yourself ragged. Managing Milne Abbey is enough of an occupation in itself without spending time at the school, too."