A Rebel Heart for the Earl (Preview)

Prologue

A sudden rainstorm had caused the stream to swell and fill the flood plain in the valley.

“Oh, look! The stream has flooded,” called Charles Blackmore, Earl of Bickley.

“I hope the foul waters haven’t swept away the baby ducklings,” said his sister, Lady Henrietta Blackmore.

“You’re always talking about ducks, horses, or badgers,” said Jonathon Pellington, Earl of Throxenby. “It’s so tedious.”

“Would you rather I talked about lace and sleeve lengths like Isabella and her friends?” Henrietta laughed. “I like nature. I plan to go on an expedition for the Royal Society when I’m older.”

Jonathan began to laugh, throwing his head back and once he’d started, he seemed unable to stop. To Henrietta’s horror, her brother Charles joined in the laughter.

“You can’t go on an expedition. Girls can’t be scientists or explorers,” said Jonathan.

“I don’t see why not,” Henrietta retorted. “I’m far more observant than either of you.”

“What is it with you two?” asked Charles, his neighbour and best friend. “You’ve always bickered, but I hoped it would reduce when you got older. Whatever one of you says the other disagrees with, and you can’t go on like this.”

“Tell your sister to behave like other young ladies and stop trying to be a scholar. Anyone would think she was going to Cambridge University and not us,” replied Jonathan.

“I have to say, Jonathan, that of the three of us, it’s Henrietta who would make the most of a place at university,” said Charles. “She has a razor-sharp brain and speaks French, Italian, and Latin fluently. She’s already read more books than I’ll ever read in my life, and she has catalogued the wildlife on this estate so thoroughly it could be published. She rides faster and jumps more fences when we ride together. I believe you underestimate my sister and overestimate your own skills,” Charles added stoutly, defending his younger sister.

Jonathan looked at Charles with a wry smile. “I know, but it would spoil the fun to admit that. And she is going to have to become a lady one day. She can’t carry on gallivanting around the countryside, or people will begin to talk about her lack of grace.”

“Let her be. She can’t go to Cambridge. Her options are limited to marriage or becoming a devoted maiden aunt to my brood of children if I eventually marry. It’s not the future she would choose if the rules of society didn’t confine her.”

Henrietta, tired of hearing the discussion about herself, leaned forward and spoke quietly to her horse, gently stroking its mane before easing it into a walk, then a canter. She turned around to call back, “I’m going to the huge oak tree where the two streams meet so I can find out how far the flood stretches.”

“We’ll follow you down,” said Charles. “Go carefully.”

“Yes, we’ll come and help you and make sure you don’t fall in,” added Jonathan.

As Henrietta got to the oak tree, she noticed something in the stream and screamed. There was a dog and a young boy, both struggling in the strong current.

At that moment, Charles and Jonathan, alerted by her scream, arrived.

Henrietta had started getting ready to go into the stream after the boy and dog.

“What on earth is she doing?” Henrietta heard Jonathan say.

“I believe she is taking off her cloak and tearing her skirts,” Charles replied in astonishment. He jumped off his horse and tied the mare to a tree as Jonathan did the same. Within seconds, they stood next to Henrietta, who continued to rip her petticoat and point wordlessly at the stream.

“It’s a dog,” said Charles. “It’s using that huge stick to keep its head above water and floating downstream with the current. I’m sure it will be able to save itself.”

“I’m going in to save them,” Henrietta said. “Have we a rope? It’s fast flowing, and I’d rather have a rope around me.”

Charles shook his head.

“What do you mean by them?” asked Jonathan.

“The child,” said Henrietta, pointing to a shape clinging to the branch of a tree, which Charles and Jonathan had obviously missed. “I’m sure the dog will scramble out himself, but that child looks ready to give up and go under.”

Jonathan could now clearly see the shape of the child and understood what Henrietta meant straight away.

“You can’t go in there,” he told her. “It’s flowing too fast, and the current will carry you away. You won’t survive.”

Henrietta ignored him, tore off the last shred of her skirts, and gathered her petticoat around her waist. She stood at the edge of the stream in thick black woollen stockings and a torn gown and looked back at Charles, who seemed rooted to the spot in horror.

“Tell Mama and Papa I’m sorry if anything happens to me,” she called, and then she was in the stream. She wasn’t swimming; her feet were on the floor as she inched her way upstream towards the child and dog moving closer to her. She had tied her petticoats together in a makeshift rope and secured one end to the branch of a willow tree, which dipped down into the water. In the summer, this place was a tranquil pool with slow-moving waters, but today it was a raging torrent.

“I’m coming to help,” said Jonathan, taking off his boots, leather riding coat, and hat and plunging after her. Henrietta reached for the child and pulled the branch towards her till it rested in the calmer waters at the edge of the stream. A small pebble beach lay ahead, and Henrietta planned to move towards that rather than risk trying to climb out over the bank of the stream.

As they moved closer to the tiny beach, Jonathan reached Henrietta and helped propel the branch out of the water and onto the pebbles. He heard a moan, and Henrietta could see that the little boy was still alive.

As Jonathan turned back to Henrietta, a large tree trunk careered down the stream, catching her and pulling her under the water. Henrietta struggled against the force of the water and then felt hands grabbing her as she bumped into something. As she was hauled up, she saw it was Jonathan.

With the energy and exuberance of a child, the little boy had already stood up and was calling for his dog. Jonathan turned Henrietta onto her side, and she spluttered as she coughed up some of the water she’d swallowed.

Had I been under for too long? Henrietta wondered as she vomited more water.

She coughed and spluttered and looked up into Jonathan’s eyes. Jonathan put his hand gently on her forehead and told her it would be all right. She was brave and safe. Henrietta closed her eyes, relief and exhaustion flooding her body.

Henrietta heard voices and, opening her eyes, was relieved to find it was Charles’ older cousin, Sir Timothy Rochester, and a group of friends. Timothy quickly dismounted, followed by his friends, and immediately took charge of the situation. They had all just graduated from Cambridge and were spending the summer at Blackmore Manor before joining the county regiment as officers.

Timothy put his cape over Henrietta and gestured for Jonathan to do the same with the child. The dog, a terrier of some kind, had scrambled out of the stream and barked loudly.

“What happened?” asked Timothy.

Henrietta remained silent, still not able to speak. She saw Jonathan look at Charles. Henrietta was aware she was in her torn petticoats and woollen stockings, and what a talking point this would make. She’d already noticed one of Timothy’s friends pointing out the stockings.

“Oh, typical. Henrietta saw the boy and the dog and took a tumble into the stream,” replied Jonathan before Charles could say anything. “She’s got no sense of danger. We managed to get her to the side of the stream, but that tree trunk hit her head. The child is safe, thank goodness.”

For some reason, which Henrietta couldn’t understand, Jonathan didn’t tell Timothy how Henrietta had saved the child’s life. Instead, he spun a story of a young lady trying to help, being ineffectual, and almost getting herself drowned in the process.

“What did you say all that for?” Henrietta heard Charles ask Jonathan. “Why didn’t you tell the truth?”

“We think of your sister as a girl, but she’s almost old enough to be married and have a season in town. I thought the true account might make her seem reckless and could ruin her prospects,” Jonathan replied. Henrietta didn’t believe it, but she was too exhausted and cold to say anything.

“She’s always going to be reckless, but she did a fine job saving that child,” said Charles.

“Are you going to back up my story or not?” asked Jonathan.

“I suppose so,” said Charles reluctantly. “I just have a feeling that nothing is ever going to be the same again after today.”

The little boy assured everyone he was unharmed, and one of Timothy’s friends lifted him onto his horse and rode off in the other direction, taking the child home, closely followed by the dog.

Henrietta was lifted onto Timothy’s horse, and he rode gently with her back towards Blackmore Manor.

It would be another four years before she saw Jonathan Pellington again.

***

When Henrietta was finally warm and dry later that day, she remembered every word Jonathan had said, and her dislike of Jonathan Pellington, Earl of Throxenby, future Duke of Montford, for taking her credit for the rescue, grew.

Later that evening, Henrietta’s family, her parents, Charles and Timothy, talked about what could be done with Henrietta.

They weren’t aware that Henrietta was listening as they discussed her future.

“I can’t see her behaving sedately enough to engage in a season in town and secure a husband,” said her father, Richard Blackmore, Viscount Denham.

“She’s been adamant it isn’t what she wants,” said her mother, Julia, Viscountess Denham. “If only they gave places to girls at Cambridge as she would be sure to obtain a first-class degree.’

“What about Aunt Olivia and her highland husband?” suggested Timothy. “I spent a summer up there when you couldn’t cope with me here. I’d fallen in love with Kitty Simmonds and was determined to ask her to marry me.”

“Oh, Timothy, I’d prefer to forget that summer,” said Viscountess Denham, fanning herself furiously. “However, it is a very good idea, and maybe when she returns in a year or two, she will be able to have that season in London.”

“Can you write to your sister Olivia, my dear?” asked the viscount.

“I’ll do it now. Shall we send an express?” replied his wife.

“I think it advisable,” said her husband, looking resigned to sending his daughter to stay with relatives.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” said Charles, who had been listening but not involved in the conversation. “No one has given Henrietta credit for what she did today. If she hadn’t stripped down to her stockings and gone into the stream, then that child would have died.” He took a gulp of air and raked his hands through his hair. “The version of events that Jonathan told you wasn’t the truth,” he told Timothy.

“Well, we can’t change the story now,” said Timothy. “Too many people have heard it. We’ll have to explain to Henrietta that although Jonathan took the credit, he did it for the best of reasons.”

“And I suspect that Henrietta will never forgive him. It’s probably for the best that she’s going to stay with Aunt Olivia and the Laird of Loch Ballaig in Scotland,” said Charles.

So she was going to Scotland, and all because Jonathan had lied about what had happened. Charles was right; she would never forgive him.

Chapter One

“I’m going to miss you, Aunt Olivia,” said Henrietta. “You know I’d prefer to stay here at Castle Loch Ballaig. It’s become my home.”

“And you’ll always have a home here at Ballaig, but for now, you must go where you’re needed. And your mama needs you by her side,” her Aunt Olivia told her.

“I still can’t believe Papa is gone, and by the time the news reached here, the funeral was over. I didn’t get to say goodbye!” said Henrietta, tears coursing down her cheeks.

“Richard was always a wild rider,” said Olivia, her own tears gathering in her eyes. “You take after him, my dear, and you need to be careful taking those fences when you’re out riding. It’s exciting, but you have a lifetime of adventures ahead of you. Stay in your library would be my advice.”

“You know I’ll never stay in the library all that time, but I promise to be in there as much as possible,” agreed Henrietta.

“The library at Blackmore Manor is one of the most beautiful places. I spent many a happy hour there.”

“Yet you left to come to Loch Ballaig?” queried Henrietta.

“Love always messes up the plans we have for our lives.” Aunt Olivia laughed. “I’ve never regretted marrying the laird and becoming the Lady of Ballaig, even though my family and friends were worried about me moving so far away.”

“You’re both still happy together. Your marriage is an inspiration,” Olivia told her.

“I wouldn’t go that far, but your Uncle Dougal and I love each other very much, and that’s never changed in all these years. He built me a library here, and I suspect I’m the only fine lady in Scotland to have a room that is part library and part drawing room.”

“It’s why Mama and Papa sent me here. They knew I didn’t really fit in at Blackmore. I love my books and writing my nature notes, but I’m so restless I need to be riding, walking, or swimming. I’m happiest on a day in the countryside.”

“And my whole family has loved having you here. It was the right thing to do,” said her aunt.

Henrietta looked down at her fingers and went quiet for several seconds. “I was in such an angry place. There’d been that incident, and it meant I could never bear to see my brother Charles’ best friend again.”

“Jonathan?”

Henrietta nodded.

“Remember, he was very young himself, and when we’re young and scared, we say things we regret afterwards. I doubt he considered the implications of what he did.”

“I lost my anger a long time ago. I’ll be glad if I never see him again, though,” said Henrietta.

“Life is full of circles and paths bringing us back to places. It may be you can find peace with Jonathan. And I know that Douglas and Stuart will miss you. You’re like a sister to them, my dear.”

“I know. This feels like leaving home for duty. I hope to return as soon as I can.”

“You will. Those circular paths will bring you back to Loch Ballaig, but now is a time to be there for Julia.” Her aunt smiled. “I wish you’d fallen in love with one of our gallant lairds in the valley. You know the Earl of Drummond would offer for you if you gave him any encouragement.”

“Rory’s a friend, and we don’t have that spark between us. He’ll find another lass to be his countess, I’m sure.”

Henrietta took her Aunt Olivia’s hands in hers and placed a kiss on her aunt’s cheek. “I’m going to ride Thor if that’s all right.”

“A good idea. Remember, we have a Cèilidh tonight as a way of wishing you well. Most of the village is joining us in the castle’s great hall.”

“The dancing will distract me. It’s a great idea for my last night at Castle Loch Ballaig.” She looked thoughtful. “Are you sure Fiona is happy to accompany me south?”

“She’s been looking after you as your maid since you came of age. She wants to be with you.”

“I’m glad. We’re friends, and I can’t imagine being without her.”

“Aye, and she’ll keep you grounded, lass,” said her aunt, holding her close and then pushing her away and telling her to go for a gallop across the moor.

Henrietta looked out of the mullioned window of the ancient castle towards the glistening silvery waters of Loch Ballaig. This place in Scotland had become her home in the four years she’d spent here.

I’m not sure how I can bear to leave the castle tomorrow. I arrived at Loch Ballaig full of anxiety, knowing that most people saw me as too individual for a young lady about to enter society. I never had any interest in watercolours or playing the pianoforte. I sat in the school room and longed to be out in the countryside exploring and making notes about the wildlife and plants on the estate.

She’d spent hours reading about botany and following the latest scientific expeditions or galloping across the countryside with her brother Charles and his friend Jonathan on her bay mare.

She swallowed as an image of Jonathan came starkly into her thoughts. They had teased each other as children, but it had been good-natured fun, or so she had thought till that day when he took the credit for rescuing the child from the water and made her sound clumsy and reckless.

And now my father has died.

She took another dry swallow and felt tears welling up in her eyes.

Oh, Papa, you were far too young to die, and now Charles is struggling to take on the mantle of Viscount, and Mother needs me back in Northamptonshire.

Will I fit in at Blackmore Manor? I doubt it, but the difference is that I no longer care. Living with Aunt Olivia at Castle Loch Ballaig has given me the confidence to be an individual – to find myself as Miss Blackmore.

***

“I thought you’d like your own suite of rooms, so I haven’t given you your old room,” said her mama, guiding her up the magnificent oak staircase to the first floor of the manor.

“That’s fine,” she said. “I don’t need to be quite so near Nanny anymore. Tell me, how is our valiant Nanny Larkin faring in her health and well-being?”

“Oh, Nanny is well and as opinionated as always,” said her mother, looking around to check that Nanny Larkin wasn’t somehow listening to their conversation.

Henrietta burst into peels of laughter. “You’re still scared of Nanny, Mama. I admit she is a force to be reckoned with, but can’t you let her retire to one of the cottages? Surely, when Charles has children, he won’t want Nanny Larkin in charge.”

“Hush, Henrietta. I don’t know how she does it, but Nanny Larkin seems to know everything. I suspect Charles would have to let Nanny oversee his nursery. It will be interesting when the time comes, and I suspect that won’t be too long.”

“Maybe she has secret passages throughout the house that only she knows about.” Henrietta laughed.

“Oh, most probably,” said her mother.

“Well, I certainly kept Nanny Larkin on her toes, but I think she has a soft spot for me,” said Henrietta.

“You’re right. You were her favourite, despite all the scrapes you continually got into,” agreed her mother.

Her mama opened the door to her small sitting room, with a door leading through to her bedchamber, dressing room, and her maid’s quarters. The room had been decorated with creamy yellow paint and wallpaper and was filled with sunshine. Henrietta caught her breath, loving the light and airy room, with the view down to the lake nestling in the woods.

“I love it. Thank you, Mama,” she said as she went to the window and looked through the open sash. She looked down and pulled a face at her mother. “I don’t think I’ll be able to climb down there. I suspect that’s why you’ve given me this room.”

This time, her mother laughed. “You’ve found me out!”

“Now that the door is closed, tell me about Charles. You said we might not have to wait long for him to need Nanny Larkin. Is he courting? Can we expect to hear wedding bells soon?”

“Hush,” said her mama again, but she came closer and began to whisper, “He’s formed a strong attachment to Lady Isabella Pellington, and we expect an announcement within the month.”

Henrietta smiled warmly while her thoughts swirled in turmoil. “I always liked Isabella, and she wrote to me sometimes in Scotland. I’d no idea she’d grown close to Charles, but now that you mention it, I can see them being a perfect match.”

Oh great, she thought. My brother plans to marry Lord Throxenby’s younger sister. It seems that he might become part of the family, and I had hoped to avoid him.

“I’m hopeful we might have a wedding in the late spring. It would be lovely to have something to look forward to.” Her mother was silent for a few seconds and then looked at Henrietta with intensity. “Thank you for returning to Blackmore Manor. You’ve been missed, and I’ve been longing for your return. I know you were happy in Ballaig, but this means a lot.”

Henrietta took her mother in her arms and held her close.

“It’s been more than six months now, but I still miss him dreadfully,” said her mother.

“You loved Papa. It’s a cruel loss, Mama. Please be gentle with yourself. It takes time to learn to live with such a loss,” said Henrietta. “I wish I could have been here sooner, but the winter weather came early, and the roads weren’t safe to travel.”

“I know; I just hope this wedding will be a distraction.”

“It sounds as though Charles needs to propose first,” said Henrietta, laughing. “Let’s hope he gets on and makes Lady Isabella an offer very soon.”

***

Henrietta felt relief as the heavy oak door closed behind her mother. Exhaustion had taken over her body and brain.

It’s like I have mist or fog in my mind. I’m finding it hard to string thoughts together. I don’t think I’m going to live up to Mama’s expectations as a companion.

She heard noises coming through from the other room and put her head around the door. Fiona was unpacking her trunk and valise and singing to herself as she worked.

And there’s Fiona. She’s left her home, family, and friends to be here with me in the far reaches of rural Northamptonshire.

She felt a rush of affection for her maid and went to help her unpack her clothes.

“We should blame Aunt Olivia for having so much to unpack. She was determined I would have everything a young lady needed in society,” Henrietta told Fiona.

“She did nae want it to look as if we don’t have polite society in Scotland. We have our pride,” explained Fiona.

Henrietta smiled, reaching for a pile of shawls and cloaks and holding a woollen cloak up to the light. “This is such wonderful workmanship. There’s nothing to approach this in England.” She put the wool to her face and felt the soft warmth against her skin. “There’s a chill in the air. I think I’ll put this on today.”

“You can wear it when you go and visit that friend you mentioned you might call on,” suggested Fiona.

“Caroline Drayton. I would like to see her,” said Henrietta. “She’s the daughter of the rector at the church in the village. We shared the same governess for many years. She was a lot more ladylike than me.”

“I doubt she had your book learning and sharp brain,” added Fiona.

“We were such close friends. I hope we can pick up where we left off.”

“Get on with you, Miss Blackmore, and find your friend. Trust me, she will be as good a friend as before. It sounds to me like a friendship made to last,” Fiona reassured her.

“I’ll go now,” said Henrietta. “If you’re sure you don’t need me.”

Fiona waved her off, and she drew the warm wool cloak around her, feeling as though it gave her strength.

As she let herself out of the boot room door leading to the path through the garden towards the village, she was full of memories of Scotland and anxieties about how she could rebuild a life here. I left as a young girl and returned as a young lady. If I’d stayed here, I’d probably have had two seasons before Father died and might even have been married.

She closed the door, turned around to take the path, and fell straight into the arms of a tall man with a guarded expression in his piercing blue eyes. She met those eyes, feeling a flash of recognition.

Did I have to meet him today? I don’t feel ready for a conversation. I don’t know who to be with Jonathan, Lord Throxenby.

She decided on formality and curtseyed. “Your Lordship,” she said in an even tone.

“Miss Blackmore. I heard you were returning. Welcome back to Deanbury Village,” he replied with an equal measure of politeness. He paused, raising an eyebrow in a wry fashion as his eyes met hers. “I shall need to be vigilant when I visit Blackmore Manor from now on if you are going to make a habit of careering into me.”

“I’m afraid you meet me as I am about to walk to the village to call on Caroline. I’m sure we’ll meet again soon,” Henrietta told him.

“Oh, how fortuitous,” he continued. “I’m just leaving myself, and I didn’t ride over today, so I can escort you to Deanbury Rectory.”

“There is no need for that,” she almost snapped her response, immediately regretting her peevish tone.

“I absolutely insist,” he replied, almost chirpily. “I’d like to hear about your life in Scotland in that castle by the loch.”

Henrietta clenched her hands together under her cloak, feeling perturbed by the emotional and physical reaction she experienced while talking to this childhood friend, who had betrayed her in the aftermath of that day by the stream.

Some things never change. There will always be friction close to the surface. I’d hoped it had dissipated, but within seconds of meeting again, I’ve been provoked into irritation. Why does he have this effect on me? Nothing has ever been calm between the two of us. There is always something simmering not far from the surface.

She heard the voice of her brother Charles approaching, calling Jonathan’s name.

“Over here,” shouted Jonathan. “I’m with your sister.”

Charles joined them. Since they had been re-united earlier that day, Henrietta had immediately felt the same old closeness to her older brother. She smiled in welcome.

“I was just trying to tell Lord Throxenby that I didn’t need him to escort me to the village,” Henrietta told Charles.

“And I was insisting it was no trouble, and I’d be glad to accompany you,” commented Lord Throxenby.

“I really do not require an escort,” she told Lord Throxenby firmly, knowing her voice was a little louder. She needed to be polite. This was no way to begin what would always have been a difficult relationship. “I truly don’t need your company.”

As soon as the words came out, Henrietta knew they sounded wrong.

Argh, she had made it worse and not better.

“Now come on you two,” said Charles. “Henrietta, it’s your first day back, and there is already a quarrel.”

“I simply said that I was perfectly fine walking to the village alone,” said Henrietta. “Some people just don’t listen.”

“I listened,” retorted Lord Throxenby. “I merely offered to walk with you as we happened to be walking to the same place at the same time. However, if you tell me which path you are taking, then I shall make sure I take a different route.”

He took off his hat and bowed before Henrietta. “Your servant, ma’am. I’m sure we shall meet again and continue our verbal skirmishes in the not-too-distant future.” Then he turned and was gone.

Henrietta stared after him, knowing the encounter had not gone well. She’d hoped to avoid being anything but civil to Lord Throxenby, but they were already engaged in a battle of wills.

Charles looked at her in frustration. “This can’t continue,” he told her. “Mama may have mentioned I hope to be engaged to Isabella very soon. This bitterness between you both is unpleasant. It’s almost as though you need to score points off each other, and I remember it was like that before you left. I wish you could put this antagonism aside, Henrietta.”

“I’m sorry, Charles. It was unkind to say I didn’t want Jonathan’s company, and I’ll admit that I chose my words clumsily.”

“Could you at least try to be pleasant? It would be good to have a truce between the two of you. I know he behaved childishly that day when you rescued that child, but I’ve talked with him about it, and he did have reasons for the way he behaved. One day, I hope he will share those with you. For now, just try to be civil.”

Henrietta nodded. “I shall try. I agree. We can’t carry on this way.”

I will try not to let my irritation with Jonathan get the better of me. I don’t believe we can ever be friends again, but I’ll try to be pleasant and avoid him as much as possible.

“He’s been a good friend to me and will, I hope, soon be family. He’s helped me as I take on the reins of the Blackmore estate. It’s not been easy since Father died. None of us expected to lose him like that so very suddenly.”

Henrietta reached over and touched her brother’s arm. “I’ve only been back a few hours, but I’ve already heard people say how much you remind them of Father in the way you manage the estate and give leadership as Viscount Denham.”

“You were going to the village?”

“I was going to call on Caroline, but it can wait for another day. Let’s find Mama and spend time together,” Henrietta suggested.

“I’d like that, Henrietta. I’ve missed you, and it’s good to have you back.”

Chapter Two

Jonathan felt restless that evening and slept fitfully. The poor night’s sleep left him feeling even more irritated when he awoke in the morning. Jonathan was used to sleeping soundly, and he blamed the green-eyed beauty with the unruly auburn curls for ruining his rest.

Confound it. Why did she have to make a simple offer to walk with her to the village into a complicated, heated discussion?

Whatever he said would be wrong, yet he carried on with these childish interactions. He’d thought that on Henrietta’s return after four years away, things might have improved between them.

We got into that pattern of childhood bickering like an antagonistic brother and sister, and it was acceptable then. Why can’t we behave politely now?

He remembered the way Henrietta’s green eyes had shone as she glared at him. He could have sworn her nostrils flared in anger.

He’d carried that picture of emerald green eyes sparkling in the spring sunshine with him throughout the evening. When the footmen lit the candles, he had found himself wondering how her eyes might shine in candlelight.

He didn’t like to admit to himself that when Henrietta had fallen into his arms, he had felt a surge of attraction that he struggled to explain. How could he feel a pull towards Henrietta when they couldn’t even discuss the time of day without it becoming an attritional skirmish?

Am I glad she’s returned? I must be, he thought, as I find myself looking forward to our next engagement in action. I suspect my visits to Blackmore Manor will be far from dull.

The next day, the whole family was at breakfast together as his mother, Duchess of Montford, and his sister, Lady Isabella, were expecting a visit from the dressmaker from Buckingham, their nearest town.

“Did you see Hetty?” asked Isabella. “I’m so looking forward to seeing her again.”

“Oh yes,” he replied noncommittedly. “And I hope we don’t meet again for a long time.”

“Oh, Jonathan, you didn’t bicker with her? You’re not children anymore,” said his mother.

“It’s impossible to have a normal conversation with that young lady. She has more sharp barbs than a stickleback fish,” replied Jonathan.

Isabella burst out laughing, earning a look of reproach from her mother. “And you’re like a hedgehog then,” Isabella said.

“If only,” he added. “I could curl up and ignore Henrietta.”

“You’re going to need to find a way to get along with Hetty, as she’s going to be your sister-in-law by the summer,” said Isabella.

Her father, the duke, looked at her intently. “Has Viscount Denham made you an offer? He hasn’t spoken with me yet.”

“I believe he may be afraid of you, Papa.” Isabella laughed. “And no, not yet, though he talks of our future together, and I’m sure it is only a matter of time.”

“I hope you’re sure about accepting him,” said her father. “There is no need for you to marry yet, you know that.”

“Of course, Papa. Charles was very young when he broke off his engagement with Lady Lucy Tyrell,” she told her father earnestly.

“He found her in the orangery at Grenville House enthusiastically embracing another man, who shall remain nameless,” said Jonathan. “Charles broke off the engagement immediately, and after that, the rumours started about how he had been unkind to his betrothed.”

“How could she see another man behind his back, and then afterwards, spread unfounded rumours about him?” said Isabella.

“This really isn’t a suitable conversation,” said the duchess. “I’ve always liked Charles. We’ve known him since he was a small boy.”

“Well, that gossip about Lady Lucy Tyrell is still out there,” said the duke.

“And Charles couldn’t refute the rumours without openly calling Lady Lucy a liar,” added Jonathan. “And he wouldn’t do that. He’s too much of a gentleman.”

“Well, I hope you’re right about that,” said their father.

“Of course he is,” continued their mother. “I’ve known Charles since he was an infant, and I’ve always thought of him as a kind, generous soul. If anything, it’s Henrietta who lacked finesse, with all that racing around the countryside like a hoyden,” said the duchess.

“I don’t know, I always rather liked that girl,” said the duke. “There was something unaffected and natural about her. Well, spreading gossip is not an attractive trait, and it certainly doesn’t reflect well on Lady Lucy Tyrell. Is she married now?” asked his father.

“Lady Lucy Tyrell?” asked his wife.

The duke nodded.

“Not yet. I believe she’s betrothed to a gentleman from Cheshire,” said the duchess. She looked at Jonathan with a curious expression he didn’t like. “And it’s time you began putting some effort into courting,” his mother told him.

His eyes widened in surprise. This was a new theme. His friends were continually urged by their mothers to marry and secure an heir, but he’d never had that. It seemed that had now changed. He hoped she wouldn’t insist on him joining a London season as he’d never liked town.

“Maybe Jonathan will fall in love with one of the ladies in the neighbourhood,” chirped Isabella teasingly. “Let’s see, who do we have? I doubt Miss Caroline Drayton would have you.” She buttered a piece of bread, adding apricot confiture and took a slice of plum cake. “Henrietta and you have always been at loggerheads, and I doubt that’s changed, so she’s out of the running.” His sister laughed. “We’re a little short of eligible ladies in the district.”

She paused and ate her plum cake while he seethed in indignation. This was a topic he had not expected at breakfast.

“A new tenant has taken Millbury Place. Now, what’s her name?” Isabella continued.

“Lady Barbara Carstairs,” supplied her mother. “She’s a widow who lost her husband just over a year ago, poor dear. We must make sure we call and welcome her to Deanbury. Lady Brigham told me she is quite lovely and very rich. Her husband was killed in action on the Iberian Peninsula.”

“How sad,” said Isabella quietly. “I know Charles’ family worry continually about their cousin Timothy. He’s been over there several years now.”

“He’s a fine man. What is he now, Diana? A colonel?” asked the duke.

“Yes, erm, he’s been promoted quite recently,” said the duchess. “He’s Colonel Rochester of the 95th Rifles. He oversees several units of riflemen with exceptional skills. I know Julia wishes he’d return home. He lived with the Blackmores from the age of five as his parents were lost at sea. He’s always been like a son to Julia.”

“Well, he’d do for Caroline,” said Isabella, sipping hot tea from a delicate Limoges porcelain cup.

“Isabella!” said her mama incredulously. “You are becoming the local matchmaker. You need to stop saying such things.”

“Oh Mama, I’ll be a married lady soon and able to say exactly what I choose. I am indeed the local matchmaker.” She looked at Jonathan with a smile. “And I haven’t given up on Jonathan making a match with Henrietta. I always thought there was a spark between them,” she said with a laugh. “That’s why sparks fly whenever they talk together, and we all take cover.” Isabella collapsed into peals of laughter.

Her brother looked at her in shock, and her mother stood up abruptly. “Isabella, I’ll hear no more of this. We must prepare for Madame Dubois to visit about your new gowns.”

“Oh, very well, Mother,” said Isabella, still trying to stop laughing. “And I don’t know why you are in high dudgeons about my suggestion, dear brother. You would avoid having to endure a season in town, and we all like Henrietta. You could do worse, you know.”

Jonathan muttered that he’d never heard such claptrap and gave his attention to a plate of mutton chops.

“Now, don’t forget that we are dining at Blackmore Manor this evening,” said his mother. She fixed her son with a most imperious stare. “And you must promise to be pleasant with Henrietta. I won’t have my friend Julia upset by your bickering. It’s got to stop, Jonathan, as you are both too old for this quarreling.”

He nodded without looking up. “I spoke politely with Lady Henrietta yesterday and offered to accompany her on her walk to the village. She refused me and made it clear she had no desire for my company. I intend to avoid her as much as possible.”

Later, as he walked across to the stable mews, feeling the need for a ride through the forest, he wondered why he kept being haunted by those dark green, almost luminous eyes and a memory of that frisson as she had fallen into his arms. He wanted to ignore the existence of Miss Blackmore, but it seemed that his mind had other ideas.

Maybe she’ll return to Scotland soon.

Deep down, he suspected that even if Henrietta were far away in the Highlands of Scotland, he would still see those emerald eyes shining in a face filled with laughter and love.