He turned and saw her flushed cheeks.
“I meant you are still young,” she said.
Of course she wanted to know why. Women always did after he made it plain early in a flirtation. But he would not tell her the reason. Not now. And most probably never. To see the horror or pity on her face would undo him. “I imagine it is unusual,” he said lightly. “But I realized some years ago I am unsuited to marriage.”
“I see.”
She didn’t, of course. Although she seemed to genuinely want to understand him. But it would be impossible for anyone to understand. He fell silent, refusing to oblige her, as their horses entered the stable courtyard.
Chapter Five
Once she andLord Debnam had reached the house, Laura became uneasy. Now he had kissed her, surely a seduction would follow? Or would he wait until dark? Not having any experience in such matters, she felt out of her depth. A few rushed kisses at a house party or behind the stables with Edward seemed so innocent now. But she’d thought she’d been in love at the time, and if Edward had done more, would she have stopped him? While she didn’t need to love Lord Debnam, and it was probably better that shedidn’tfall in love with him, she wanted to feel more than an attraction for him when they became lovers. She wanted to respect him as a person and enjoy his company. But how could she delay the inevitable?
“You’ve become very quiet,” he observed as they entered the hall. “Has picking all those flowers tired you?”
She laughed. “I am made of sterner stuff. But you will send someone to fetch them, won’t you?”
“Redfern will arrange it.”
“I’ll go upstairs and change.”
Redfern entered the hall. “The steward awaits you in the library, milord.”
Lord Debnam turned to her. “Please forgive me for being a poor host. There are matters I must attend to in the library. A footman will come to your bedchamber and escort you to the dining room when dinner is served.”
Laura viewed his tall, athletic body as he walked down the corridor. He paused and turned back to her. “You are welcome to come and choose a book to read. You’ll find a variety of reading matter on the library shelves.”
“I will, later, thank you,” she said. He didn’t appear eager to seduce her. Shouldn’t she have been glad? She really couldn’t understand herself. “As the day is still warm, I prefer to walk in the gardens.”
“Capability Brown designed the gardens in the last century, and little has changed since.” He paused, a hand on the door latch. “Enjoy your walk, but stay close to the house.”
“Thank you.” She’d taken a few steps but turned back and called after him before he entered the library. “Shall I arrange the flowers?”
“Mrs. Brandt will deal with them.”
She would like to have something to do, but it was just as well. Her flower arrangements lacked the studied elegance of the housekeeper’s. But then Laura disliked stiff, formal arrangements. The library door closed behind him, and she mounted the staircase, her mind full of questions.
Had the kiss disappointed him? Had he decided she was not what he wanted? Would they continue in this vein until it was time for her to go home? She wished they could talk more, but it seemed as if he’d drawn a line which Laura couldn’t cross. He had secrets—well, most people did, even her, but his seemed to be deeply ingrained in his soul.Perhaps he didn’t enjoy the kiss, she thought, returning to her first and most unsatisfactory postulation. She paused on the stairs. And he didn’t wish to proceed. Surely, a blow to her vanity wasn’t as important as her chastity. She became as much of a mystery to herself as he was.
She decided not to venture into the garden like a polite houseguest. Instead, she would visit the portrait gallery she’d glimpsed in passing and study the family portraits. It seemed unlikely she would find a clue to tell her more about him, but she could think of no other way.
In her bedchamber, she rang for the maid. By the time Penny had hurried into the dressing room, Laura was half-undressed, the muslin gown embroidered with lilies waiting on a chair.
“Milady, you should have waited for me.” The maid was close to scolding her as she picked up the gown.
Laura smiled at the young girl’s unaffected manner, wishing she could take her home with her. But of course, that was impossible. And although it would have been nice to have a lady’s maid again, she didn’t need one. It wasn’t as though she would marry into society, and she’d grown used to caring for her clothes and dressing herself during the last year. She made her gowns with front fastening to make it easier in dressing. And she’d become quite skilled at arranging her thick, fine hair, which frequently escaped the hairpins.
As Penny fussed around the bedchamber, restoring order to Laura’s clothes, it occurred to her that the maid might have heard something of the family’s history from the servants. In her experience, servants loved nothing more than to gossip about their employers.
She would ask her, but first, she would view the portrait gallery.
Emerging from her room, she made her way to the gallery, initially designed for the family to exercise indoors during inclement weather. Furnished with gilt chairs, sofas, marble tables, shrubbery, and statues, the gallery’s long windows overlooked a walled garden with a fountain at its center. Over the top of the trees, the roof of some hexagonal structure could be seen. A gazebo. Beechley Park was such a beautiful estate. Yet it did not appear to make Lord Debnam happy.
She turned to roam along the walls where portraits of the family hung, stretching back over the years. As if it made what he had done more acceptable, Robert had informed her HenryIV had gifted the Debnam family the title and lands for some act of bravery.
Laura came to the most recent portrait, judging by the fashions of the day, and stopped before a fair-haired man who bore a resemblance to the earl, with the same straight nose and square jaw. The former earl, Lord Debnam’s father. He had an engaging smile, which might have been like his son’s if the latter ever allowed himself to smile that broadly. The earl looked pleased with life as he leaned against a tree with a loyal spaniel at his feet. The portrait hanging beside him must have been the countess. Lord Debnam’s mother had a strong face that was, if not precisely beautiful, arresting, her dark hair dressed in the elaborate style of the late eighteenth century. Her eyes appeared to be the same gray as Lord Debnam’s. A dark-haired, solemn boy of about six or seven years stood beside her. The current earl. Laura moved closer. The countess, Lady Debnam, rested her hand at the boy’s waist, her smile friendly and indulgent. Laura foolishly smiled back, as if they’d just met. The countess looked to be of a similar age to Laura in this painting, and the former earl around thirty. Where were the portraits of them in their later years? When had they died? And how? Laura checked along the walls but found none in the gallery. Deciding she might have missed those hanging in the great hall, she started down the staircase.
As the lofty hall was deserted, she could inspect every painting hanging there. None featured the late earl and his countess. Among the tapestries, the crossed swords, and ancient relics, the few portraits were dated centuries ago. Deciding to take that walk, she smiled at the footman seated in the foyer and slipped out into the gardens.
