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It was chastening to realise that being firm with oneself, facing the facts squarely and not deluding oneself had no effect at all upon an unruly imagination. Hester’s hands stilled on the seam and the fabric, which she had tucked under her arm to maintain the tension, sagged unregarded. It was as though she was incapable of thinking about anything but Guy Westrope. She recalled the feel of his body against hers, the pressure of his lips on her mouth, the wicked twinkle in his eyes when they shared a joke. How much longer was he going to stay in Winterbourne and torment her? And would the torment be any less if he were not here?

The notion of life without Guy was not one she had considered before and it was unexpectedly distressing. ‘I am in love with him,’ she murmured to herself. And all that this admission brought her was the same painful choice once more: to try and forget him once he left or, if it was offered, to surrender all her principles and yield to an immoral liaison. Hester was shaken to realise that she could even consider such a choice; it seemed she was less resolute than she had believed.

The next day found her no calmer and eager to bury her disconcerting thoughts in a discussion of clothes with Susan.

‘This walking dress?’ The maid pulled out a rather practical garment and shook the skirts free of wrinkles. ‘It should be fine for climbing up and down from that high-perch seat if his lordship’s using the curricle.’

‘No, not that one. I want to look particularly well dressed this afternoon. I do not want to give the slightest impression that I have been worrying about a mystery or dealing with alarums and excursions.’

‘But his lordship knows you have.’ Susan put back the rejected gown and began to rummage.

‘Not for his lordship, for the Nugents. If they are behind this I do not want to give them the satisfaction of appearing in any way anxious or distracted.’ She began to lift out folded garments. ‘What do you think to the amber walking dress with the frogging’? And the kid half-boots and the deeper brown bonnet with the grosgrain ribbons?’

‘Very smart,’ Susan approved. ‘And his lordship will like it,’ she added as Hester poured hot water into the washbasin.

Hester told herself that she would not dignify this observation by a reply, then, as she was washing her face, admitted to herself that she probably could not muster a convincing one in any case. Susan appeared to be reading her state of mind very clearly which was an uncomfortable thought.

* * *

It was an elegantly attired and somewhat sobered lady who stepped out of her front door as the curricle drew up at her gate. Some ruthless self-examination had convinced Hester that whatever the temptation to abandon her principles she would not yield to it. She already knew what the stigma of being labelled as a fallen woman was like-she had no intention of justifying that description. And, in any case, she was probably refining too much upon the possibility that Guy would make her such an offer.

‘Good day, Miss Lattimer.’ Guy helped her up on to the high seat and waited until the groom took himself back to the Old Manor’s stable yard. ‘You look very fine, Hester; not intending to give the Nugents the satisfaction of thinking they have rattled you, I presume?’

‘Precisely.’ Hester settled herself on the seat and looked admiringly at the pair of matched greys that were fretting at their bits. ‘That is a fine team.’

Guy looked at her again, wondering what it was that had changed about her. Or perhaps the change was in him and the way he felt about Hester Lattimer. On an impulse he asked, ‘Would you care to drive them later?’

‘Truly? I have never driven a pair before, I must confess.’ Her eyes sparkled, the intriguing flecks of gold he looked for to gauge her mood showing quite clearly, then they vanished, almost as quickly as they had appeared. Something was oppressing her, he could sense it. Was it simply the mysterious persecution hanging over her household?

‘Yes, truly. They are spirited, but good mannered, and once they have shaken the fidgets out they will give you a good drive. How is everything at the Moon House?’

‘Very well.’ Hester settled down to recount the news of the day before and Guy could tell that, if it were not for the mystery, Hester was more and more at home in the house. He listened with half his mind. Did he really need to buy it, now he knew it was in safe hands, owned by a woman who loved it as much as its first occupant must have done?

But he could not walk away from it without telling her the story of the house, of his involvement-and to do that he would have to ask for Georgiana’s consent for that secret to be revealed. Would his sister agree? Somehow he doubted it.

And could he walk away from Hester Lattimer? That too was something he was beginning to doubt.

‘… Sarah. Guy, are you listening to me?’ she demanded.

‘No,’ he admitted with a smile to deflect her wrath. ‘But I was thinking about you.’ The blush that coloured her cheeks was delicious and renewed his hopes that she was not indifferent to him. Surprised by the pleasure the thought gave him, he pursued it. Just what did he hope for from Hester Lattimer? He was not given to trifling with well-bred virgins-any virgins, come to that-nor had he any plans to settle down, but Miss Lattimer was shaking that certainty.

‘Guy! Now what are you thinking about?’

‘I was still thinking about you, but-’ he threw up one hand as if to ward off a blow ‘-you now have all my attention. Tell me all the gossip about Sarah Nugent.’

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

T0 recount all of Annabelle Redland’s gossip about the Nugents took until the curricle reached the gates of the Hall.

Guy reined in the greys and regarded Hester thoughtfully.

‘It sounds as though Miss Nugent is the stronger character of the two, and not above chicanery, if the tale of her unfortunate fiancé is true. I wonder if he has decided to stay safely in the West Indies and break off the engagement by letter. If they were relying upon his wealth to restore their fortunes, that may well account for them taking desperate action.’

‘But it still does not account for the desperate action taking the form of scaring me out of my home,’ Hester pointed out.

‘No, indeed it does not. Remind me, what excuse do we have for this call?’

‘I am enquiring about Miss Nugent’s health and you have kindly agreed to drive me.’


Tags: Louise Allen Romance