Regency Brides Series: A Historical Regency Romance Box Set Page 26

  Pauline grinned at the memory. “No-one would have suspected the thief to be one foot high and raucous.”

  They both chuckled. The thief had been a jackdaw, hopping in the window, on the lookout for bright, shiny things. The sparkle of the faceted amethysts and other minor gems was too much to resist.

  “I had forgotten,” Pauline admitted. She smiled to herself. If she could solve that mystery, perhaps this awful accusation by Cornelius was something she could uncover the truth of, too.

  “Well, there you are,” Matilda grinned. “You needn't worry yourself about hidden secrets. If they pose no real danger to anyone, it's to you.”

  Pauline smiled and they sat in companionable silence a while, lost in their own thoughts. After a while, Matilda yawned.

  “While you're here, dear, I should show you the new nursery. It's at the top of the house, I'm quite proud of how it's decorated...come see?”

  Pauline nodded. “I'd love to, sister,” she said sincerely.

  “Good.”

  Pauline found herself walking around the nursery Matilda had prepared – a sunny room on the top floor overlooking the park. It was wallpapered in cream and the cot was done out in neutral, pretty sheets of embroidered cream linen.

  “For,” Matilda continued. “We can't know it's a boy. Not yet.”

  Pauline chuckled. “You wish it to be?”

  “I wish it to be a human being. At this point, all I wish is that it was born,” Matilda said, rolling her eyes. “And for him or her to make a speedy entrance to the world and spare me this endless cossetting.”

  Pauline laughed. Her sister laughed too.

  Pauline dined with Matilda and Henry that night, noting with amusement how Henry did, indeed, cosset her. Then, the next morning after breakfast, she rode home with the coach.

  “Pauline!” Cornelia exclaimed, almost before she had a chance to set her valise down in the hall. “Oh! I'm glad you're here! I need your advice on something urgently.”

  “What is it?” Pauline asked, frowning. It was unlikely to be anything serious – Cornelia had a dramatic bent that could make the selection of ribbons seem of extreme importance.

  “I want to go to London and Mama says no. Oh, please, Pauline? Help me?”

  Pauline frowned. “What happened, Cornelia?” she asked carefully. “Who invited you?”

  “Pauline?” her mother called, appearing on the stairwell as she followed Cornelia upstairs. “We had a letter for you.”

  “For me?” Pauline frowned. Who might send her a letter?

  “Yes! That's it,” Cornelia said firmly. “That's what I...” she saw Pauline's mother and trailed off softly.

  “You had a letter from Lord Stanmore, dear.”

  “Oh?” Pauline felt her teeth clench. The last person she wished to hear of was Cornelius. On the ride back she had convinced herself he was a liar. She did not want to have to think of him now.

  “He just went to London. He sent an invitation.”

  “To London,” Cornelia supplied.

  “Yes,” Lady Braxton said, her eyes narrowed. Pauline would have laughed at her evident discomfort at being beaten to the point by her niece, but she didn't. The news was dire.

  “Lord Stanmore invited me?”

  “He asked if you would visit them in London – he and his sister. They have the London house, and they will be staying for the season. Do consider it?”

  Pauline sighed. “I will consider it.” In her heart, she felt dismayed. London and the season were not her favorite places at the best of times. Pauline preferred the countryside for the most part, where she could replenish her soul riding in the wooded hills and moorlands. But if Mama insisted...

  “Oh, do let's!” Cornelia said, eyes round as she joined Pauline on the stairs again, heading for the upper floor.

  “I'll think about it,” Pauline promised.

  “You should do,” her mother said softly. “It's a grand opportunity. And who wouldn't do well from the London Season?”

  “I'll think about it,” Pauline said again. As her cousin grinned happily and her mother looked hopefully back, she felt she had only one option.

  She would go to London to stay with Cornelius and his sister.

  But only for a week.

  It was the one compromise that might work.

  Chapter 9

  Plans for the trip to London spanned out more time than Pauline would have liked. Wishing she could forget about the notion, she found every minute filled with talk and plans and arrangements. She must go to the seamstress to make new gowns. She must buy ribbons, to embellish new bonnets. And would she not need new slippers? The balls and parties would last all night and her old shoes were sure to wear out with the dancing.

  “Mama,” she sighed, feeling haggard. “I am sure my shoes will last.”

  “What is the matter with you, daughter?” her mother sighed. “You must contradict me in everything, is that it?”

  “Mama, I'm not arguing. I just want to be alone.”

  Pauline squeezed her eyes shut, her head pounding. She felt inestimably weary. She had been on her feet all week , it seemed, with this appointment and that appointment; with teas and trips to town and back again. She felt ragged on every level. She just wanted time alone. Time to think.

  “Oh,” her mother said, looking at her as if being alone was something entirely foreign. “Well, if you're not feeling well, you should have told me! Do have a lie down.”

  “I'm not...” she began, then sighed. If letting her mother think she felt ill would get her respite, she was happy. “Thank you, Mama. I'll lie down.”

  “If you need something from the village, I'm sending Hudson through to fetch new silks...”

  “I'll say if I need something,” Pauline said in a quiet voice. Then she went to her room and sank down on the bed wearily.

  “I need to go for a ride.”

  Pauline sighed and stood, feeling as if every bone in her body ached. It was the tension, she knew. The thought of being kept in constant proximity to Cornelius was repellant. She disliked his company at the best of times.

  Though maybe Cornelia is right. Meeting new people might be a good thing.

  Valerian was unsuitable. Perhaps extending her acquaintance would bring her new possibilities. Someone like Valerian, who was more the appropriate for her.

  She sighed. Sitting at the dressing-table, brushing out her hair, she recalled the last time she had seen Valerian. She knew there was none like him. No-one I can talk to like I do with him. No-one who excites me as he does. She bit her lip.

  Valerian is perfect for me.

  She dismissed the thought quickly, closing her eyes lest it be too painful. She was not permitted to marry a man of his standing. It wasn't going to happen.

  I might meet someone I like there. It is for the best.

  Standing, back straight, Pauline walked briskly from the room and down the stairs. She headed to the stables.

  “Saddle my horse, please, Ben? I'm going riding.”

  “Yes, Lady Pauline.”

  Out in the fields, her mood lifted. The sun had come out and larks danced high above the fields, pouring their happy song on the land. She rode at a canter, past fields just turning gold with the wheat. It was windy, and her bonnet flew back, cheeks flushing as she rode along the path.

  At the division of the road, she headed right. Towards Braxley. The thought of a quiet cup of tea in Ainsley's was a pleasant one. And perhaps Amelia Newbury, the parson's niece, would be there. She might be of lower birth, but she was learned and made pleasant company.

  The thought made Pauline smile. She headed out to the village.

  “...and did you see the latest fashions? Absolutely delightful!”

  A bright feminine voice drifted out of the tea-shop on Pauline's way in. She stopped in the hallway to hang up her coat and looked around, feeling the warmth return to wind-chilled fingers as she stood in the sunny main room, the wide windows letting light pour in unh
indered.

  “My lady?” a man in a suit asked politely.

  “A table for one, please,” Pauline said quickly.

  “Why alone?” a voice asked. “May I join?”

  Pauline stared into the soft eyes of Valerian.

  “Oh?” she said, looking at her gloved fingers.

  “I won't impose,” Valerian said gently. “If you'd rather, I'll take up the table...” he indicated another empty table in the corner, just out of the way of the main sunshine and the room.

  “No, do join,” Pauline said quickly. Then she blushed. She had been too hasty. What would he think of her?

  He smiled. Whatever he thought it was no bad thing. He had a peculiar hesitance to his smile, as if unsure of her. Pauline recalled their last meeting, and realized he probably was unsure of welcome.

  “I was...it's pleasant to see you here,” she ventured carefully.

  “I say the same,” he said softly. They looked into one another's eyes. His were blue and sincere and happy. Pauline swallowed hard, reading the message of longing and welcome in those eyes. She felt the same. She realized they were in the way and forced her gaze elsewhere.

  “Come, we'll sit.”

  She went to the vacant table and he took a seat opposite her, then grinned.

  “I cannot say how delighted I am to see you here, Lady Pauline.”

  Pauline blushed. “And I you.”

  “I was miserable – I have not seen you for weeks!” He made a face and Pauline read in his eyes he spoke truthfully.

  “I was surprised to find you here,” she said, hesitant.

  “A lovely surprise, for me,” Valerian insisted. “What shall we have?” he asked. The waiter had appeared, a towel on his arm, waiting for their selection.

  “I'll take tea,” Pauline said quickly.

  “I, too,” Valerian nodded. “And...have you seen the selection?” he meant the baked goods in the glass counter by the door.

  “I haven't,” Pauline agreed, feeling her stomach growl encouragingly. It was, she realized, almost lunchtime.

  “Let's look, then,” Valerian said quickly. “We should sample the baking...it's excellent, I heard.”

  “It is,” Pauline nodded. She and her family frequented Ainsely's whenever they were in Braxley, which was fairly regularly. They went across to the counter where an array of delicious confections was displayed under the glass.

  “Well, then,” Valerian said as they looked carefully at it. “I think I'll take that,” he pointed to an elegant gateau. “And for you?”

  “I'll try the pastries,” Pauline said, indicating a cream horn.

  “Capital!”

  They placed their orders and went to sit down. They faced each other over the wrought-iron table nervously. Pauline thought he looked uncomfortable. She cleared her throat.

  “We should...”

  “Do you...”

  They both laughed. “After you?” she said.

  “No. You speak first,” Valerian said.

  “Well, I wanted to say that we should talk a lot now, since I'm not likely to be back for a while,” Pauline said. As she finished, she caught the look on his face. He looked mortified. She was surprised.

  Could it be that he wants to see me, too? She dismissed the thought. Something else on his mind.

  “Why, my lady? Where will you go?”

  “London,” Pauline said. She was looking at the table, at the pink-and-white china teacups. She glanced at the counter, at the patrons who were standing up, stretching their legs and preparing to leave. Everywhere except at Valerian's face.

  “You will be long?”

  Pauline looked at him then. His face held the same mortification that she felt. His gaunt, pale face was drawn, his eyes big and sad. She bit her lip.

  “I visit a week,” she explained.

  “Oh.” Valerian's eyes cleared. “That is no matter. The troops are stationed for months here. I shall be here when you return.”

  “Oh!” Pauline surprised herself by the flush of warmth through her when he said that. “I am pleased you shan't be gone,” she said in a small voice. Her eyes met his and the eyes she looked into were warm, blue pools like summer lakes.

  “I am pleased also.”

  She saw a smile lift the corners of his mouth and she smiled, too, slow and hesitant. His hand moved to touch hers. She let her hand rest on his a moment, then withdrew it.

  The proprietor appeared and served them, then left. Pauline lifted the silvery cutlery and they both tried their orders.

  “This is excellent,” Valerian murmured after swallowing, dabbing his lips with a napkin. Pauline sighed, the way he licked a trace of icing from his lips making her feel strange.

  The man makes my stomach flutter like butterflies were there.

  She swallowed hard. It was a strange and lovely feeling. She flushed, shyly.

  As she finished her pastry in silence, she noticed Valerian's eyes on her. He was watching her with interest and it made her heart thump. Was he attracted to her? He was looking at her as if he was regarding a beautiful performance at the theater, or a vase from Sevres.

  He saw her looking and coughed. “You were out riding?” he asked.

  “I was,” Pauline said, feeling warmth flood her. He sounded awkward, his voice husky. She cleared her own throat, her voice caught.

  “You had a long ride, I think. Braxton House is a good ten miles away!”

  “It is not quite that far,” Pauline demurred. “And I had to take advantage of the sunshine.” she added, waving a hand toward the windows with some delight.

  “Might I...” he cleared his throat. “Might I accompany you back?”

  “You might,” Pauline said in a small voice.

  “It is a long way, and I would desire to talk with you.”

  “I, too.”

  Pauline looked at the table with the tea-things, not wanting to risk looking into his eyes. Her heart was thumping against her chest and she felt her pulse jump. He was so handsome.

  They left together and headed for the stables. Pauline mounted her horse and went forward, waiting for him to join her. Together they rode out of the yard.

  “We could take the way back over the hills?” Valerian suggested. It was the long way round, and both of them knew that.

  Pauline swallowed, feeling herself smiling. “We could,” she agreed. “Though it's starting to bluster a little.”

  “It might calm down,” he observed.

  “It might.”

  At length they decided to take the quick way back, since it was almost luncheon. They rode slowly, though, making the most of the sunlight.

  “Lady Pauline,” Valerian said at length. They had stopped on a hillside together, looking down into the sunlit valley below. They were riding close to each other, and Pauline could feel the warmth of his leg against her own.

  “Yes?” she asked, heart almost stopping as she looked into his blue eyes.

  “I...” Valerian coughed. “I wanted to ask you if...if I might call on you sometimes?”

  The look in his eyes was earnest and sincere and Pauline winced, realizing she had no idea what to say.

  “I...I shall have to ask Mama,” she said hesitantly. It was the truth. It was all she could say. “But I don't see why not,” she added thoughtfully.

  “Whew,” Valerian grinned. “I don't know when I've last felt so tense about anything.”

  He was chuckling, leaned forward in the saddle, and Pauline realized with a sudden jolt that he actually meant it – asking her for permission to see her was tense for him.

  She laughed, feeling as if her heart was soaring with the larks, flying over the valley, singing. “I am glad to hear I'm so scary, Lieutenant Harrington.”

  He tipped back his head and laughed. “My lady, I promise you. Scary you are not. But were you to refuse me, I would have been very sad.”

  Pauline bit her lip. She was not sure, yet, whether or not she was wise trusting this man, or being seen
with him. But he was polite. Friendly, genial. The ideal companion. How could she refuse him?

  “We shall have to see,” she said carefully.

  Valerian nodded. “Indeed we shall. Shall we go?”

  “Yes.” She nodded, riding ahead as they went to the path.

  They rode back in almost silence after that. Near her home, Valerian stopped. “Lady Pauline?”

  “Yes?” she asked. He was shifting in the saddle uncomfortably.

  “Shall we walk?” he asked. “The path is narrow here, and...” he trailed off. Whatever else his motivation was, he did not wish to say. She nodded.

  “Yes. It is narrow here. And there are brambles. Mind your step.”

  She slipped forward in the saddle and jumped down lightly. He joined her on the ground.

  This close, they were face to face. He was slightly taller than her, so that she had to tip her head back a little to look into his eyes. He looked down at her. His eyes were very level and very blue.

  He leaned forward just as she leaned up. His hands were on her shoulders. Her hands reached up for his. They kissed.

  Pauline tensed and then relaxed as his lips brushed against hers. They were honey-sweet from the bakery and warm with the sunshine and the ride.

  Later, he leaned back, eyes sightless. He gasped.

  “Pauline, I...” He shook his head. “It is beyond expression.”

  Pauline smiled up at him. “I think so too.”

  He smiled. His eyes shone.

  “Come back soon, milady.” He said gently. “I will wait, and pine sorely, for your presence.”

  Pauline tensed. “I...oh, Valerian. I don't know...I'll do my best.”

  She looked into his eyes and he looked back at her. His wide eyes held care, and distress in equal measure. He blinked, long lashes on pale skin.

  “I'll see you soon,” Pauline said, shocked by how her voice wavered.

  “And I you,” he nodded. “Go safe.”

  “I'll do my best,” Pauline grimaced, then smiled. “See you soon.”

  “See you soon.”

  Then, eyes blinded with tears, she walked away from him, leading her horse up the short road that led back to the estate and home.

  Chapter 10