Chapter Six
Everett dismounted outside his stables, feeling weariness in every part of his body. It had been a long night and he was beyond exhausted. He needed to sit quietly for a moment and clear his head.
A groom took his horse away, leaving Everett standing at the entrance to the stables all alone, save for the old horses he couldn’t bear to part with. He turned away as they acknowledged him, stepped into an area that had until last month been the stable master’s private quarters and stripped off completely.
He placed his older clothing into a bucket near the doorway for boiling and dragged his feet across the room to the fireside. This daily cleansing routine was for his own piece of mind as much as anything. He couldn’t bear it if anyone else was hurt unwittingly by contact with his sister through him.
He found the water heating at the range in the corner and mixed it in with the cooler bathwater already set aside in readiness for his return. He stepped into the lukewarm hip bath and scrubbed himself from head to toe with the new block of sandalwood soap, well aware his precautions might be for naught in the end.
There was no way to predict the spread of consumption, only its final result. Death.
Even without the threat of catching her consumption over his head, he felt better for cleansing himself after visiting with Emily, too.
It was not just her illness that troubled him, but the manner of her thoughts she often shouted out in her delirium. She was dark now, bitter and angry, seething with hate for Lady Taverham and her innocent son. Her sickness, fevers and dreams had affected her judgment, too. She wanted to rid the world of the pair. She still believed she could take Lady Taverham’s place in the marquess’ affections, if only Everett would let her go to him.
He refused.
He scrubbed himself again as he remembered her sudden awakening in the middle of the night, to rid himself of her vile words, but they were burned into his skull. She wanted Miranda dead. She wanted Everett to bring the boy to her.
Emily would forever be disappointed in him, because he could not agree to any of it.
He liked his best friend’s son too much to allow him to be harmed. He’d not had much to do with children, but Everett found young Christopher curious, respectful, and often amusing. Christopher reminded Everett of the Marquess of Taverham as a young boy, full of wonder for the world and in awe of the estate he would one day inherit.
But Everett was aware the boy was uncomfortable when he was near, and only time and Emily’s absence could change that.
Emily’s actions had managed to make the boy wary of him.
He wished the boy no harm, and had been trying to smooth the boy’s way into his new situation as best he could. It was not easy, but he was determined to one day call upon the boy and know he was not viewed as any sort of threat.
He redressed in finer clothes for the day then strolled out into the stables, stopping beside each stall to speak to the horses he owned. At the far end, Lion nickered a greeting.
He moved toward his favorite horse, scratched his nose and generally fussed over him.
“He’s restless today,” the stable master, Neals, complained.
“I thought one of my guests might have wanted to ride him by now.” He had brought in his best mounts from the pasture, sure Miss Quartermane had professed to enjoy spending time in the saddle every day. But she had not once enquired after a horse to ride and his hints at an outing had been not outright dismissed, but certainly forgotten in the excitement of visiting neighbors like Twilit Hill.
“None have asked to,” Neals said with a shake of his head.
Everett opened Lion’s stall and the horse trotted out quickly, leaving him to pay a call on all the other horses in their nearby stalls.
“Lion,” he called before the animal reached the farthest one, and the horse obediently trotted back to his side. He petted him, scratched him behind the ears, and then decided to take the old fellow out for a stroll while he checked on a few things.
Lion required neither lead nor saddle to make him follow Everett about. The beast was always content to walk alongside him like a faithful hound would, sometimes with his large, heavy head draped over Everett’s right shoulder.
Lion nudged him.
“I know. I know. Walk faster,” Everett said to him with a soft laugh.
He lengthened his stride, reaching the nearest outbuildings where workmen were repairing an old long-abandoned cottage on the edge of the woods. The workers, under Thompson’s direction, were making better progress on repairs than he’d ever hoped for. The man himself was consulting his papers and marking off items as he joined him.
“Morning, Thompson,” he called.
“Ah, there you are. I missed you at breakfast.”
“Estate business,” he lied once more. Thompson hadn’t a clue about his sister’s whereabouts. But the longer Thompson remained, the harder it was to hide where Everett went each day. “I see you’re hard at work already on our project.”
Thompson smiled and scratched Lion’s nose. “I am eager to get the work done for you, so that next year’s hunt is more comfortable than the last one for participants.”
Thompson had a flair for architecture and design, and it had only taken half a day for Everett to agree to let his friend restore this building. It kept him busy and prevented him from dwelling on his family problems, too.
“Good,” he agreed as he studied the cottage again, and the improvements underway with approval. Once completed, he would be able to house another dozen riders more than usual for the annual hunt he hosted. “Are you just about done here?”
“I’d planned to stay out a few more hours,” Thompson confessed. “I want everything here complete before the wedding day arrives.”
Everett smiled tightly at the reminder of his imminent nuptials. Everything seemed to hinge on that date. “Very well, I’ll see you at luncheon then.”
Thompson was good company and had asked many intelligent questions about the challenges of running the estate so far. The man’s father was a fool to cut him off and not teach him more. Everett was toying with the idea of keeping Thompson around long after the wedding day to show him what his future might bring.
Everett turned toward the stables. Once he and Miss Quartermane were married, Everett would be distracted, but Thompson could be shown how to manage everything he had in mind for his estate. There were many other buildings in need of Thompson’s expert eye, and then there was the possibility of adding modern plumbing to the family wing as well. Alice would be pleased.
His thoughts turned toward his future wife again, and his mood sank.
“Shouldn’t I feel more for her by now?” he asked Lion.
Lion, ever ready for attention, rested his large head heavily on Everett’s shoulder as they walked along. Everett wrapped an arm about his neck.
“Silly old horse,” he said as he rubbed the great beast’s nose. “You’re not nearly as smart as you think you are.”
Asking a horse why he wasn’t more excited about his upcoming marriage didn’t give him any answers. He cared about Alice’s comfort, had made sure she had everything needed since her arrival, but there must be something wrong with him. He wasn’t attracted to her as much as he’d hoped to be by now. And there was nothing to be done about that. He’d proposed, Alice and her parents had accepted, and the banns had been read for a wedding.
He walked back to the stables, secured Lion in his stall again and pondered the beast’s future on his estate. He’d thought Alice might like him to ride, but now he wasn’t so sure she liked being in the saddle as much as she had first claimed. Given he hosted a hunt each year, that disappointed him. He’d expected his wife to be an eager participant. He needed her to be at the least involved.
But if she wasn’t a rider to the bone, as she’d claimed, they had one less thing in common. Perhaps he’d have to be more direct with his riding invitations in future. Lion was easy to manage for even a novice rider, easy to direct and be around, but his restlessness was because he was bored.
Lion needed someone to ride him each day, and that person had to be someone who would appreciate his playful nature, too, and want to spend time with the animal out of the saddle.
With Emily’s health worsening, he didn’t know when he’d find the time the beast needed.
The stable master drew close. “Do you want the grooms to take him out to the east field and gallop him for a bit today.”
“No,” he said, as a better idea came to him instead. “Would you deliver Lion to Twilit Hill, to the marquess’ son, with my compliments.”
The stable master grinned. “A fine idea. Lion will like the boy.”
He grinned. “I hope so. Otherwise, he’ll eat his head off here and grow fat and difficult.”
“True,” the stable master agreed.
He bid his horse farewell, knowing he’d be in good hands in Taverham’s stables, and returned to the house and his guests.
Alice was in his study, standing at his open study door waiting and looking out upon the grounds. He took a moment to admire her. She was very pretty, her pale hair swept up in an elegant chignon. Today she was wearing another virginal white gown with a froth of lace at her bodice. One day he would peel her out of that dress and make love to her. The idea of it should appeal to him. “Good morning, Miss Quartermane,” he called out.
Miss Quartermane yelped upon seeing him. “Oh, my lord, you startled me.”
“Forgive me. I did not mean to.” He drew closer. “You look lovely today.”
“Thank you,” she murmured, eyes lowering modestly.
He stepped into the room and looked about swiftly. No sign of her parents but they likely were not far away. He smiled down upon her. “Did you want me for something?”
“Not really. I was just admiring the views from all the rooms. What there is of it.”
This room was closest to the woods, and he loved spending his mornings here. “I chose this room particularly for my study because I like the woods.”
Her brow wrinkled. “Indeed you must. There is so much about.”
“Please sit,” he asked knowing time was short. It had always been difficult to speak with Alice without her parents hearing every word he uttered. “Don’t be shy. Tell me what you like and dislike about the house.”
Alice sank into a seat far from him, hands primly folded in her lap. “Warstone is very lovely, but the rooms are often so dark.”
“Yes, the woods tend to cast shade on a great many rooms.”
Her brow wrinkled again with a frown. “Why do you not cut down more trees?”
“Tradition. My great-great-great-grandfather chose this spot and removed over a thousand trees for the house and front gardens, and the northern fields that connect to Lord Taverham’s estate. But no more than was needed for farming land. The forest was here first, so now we only remove what is needed and trees that are in danger of falling.”
“And no one else has logged here since?”
“There hasn’t been a great need.”
Alice smiled. “My father believes you should cut the trees much farther back from the house. He says there is great demand for wood so tall and straight as yours are.”
Everett was only too aware of her father’s interest in his woods. Stripping the estate for profit sat ill with Everett, though. “Perhaps twenty years ago there was such a demand, but not now.”
“Did you supply trees for the navy?”
He nodded. “For a few years only.”
“Perhaps there is still a demand for lumber for other enterprises.”
He shook his head. “I won’t compromise the beauty, peace and tranquility of my estate for the few pounds offered.”
“My father is a very shrewd businessman.” Alice’s eyes lit up with excitement. “He could make you a great deal of money.”
He laughed at her enthusiasm. “I am well aware that his reputation for tough negotiation is a fact. No one strikes a better deal than Mr. Quartermane.”
Her brow furrowed again. “But you would not make use of his expertise.”
“As I said, I don’t need the income, and after we marry I still would not agree to it.” He smiled warmly. “There is no need to concern yourself with commerce on our behalf. I assure you, you will never need to pinch pennies as my wife.”
“I was not concerned I would,” Miss Quartermane stated somewhat stiffly. “My dowry is sufficient to provide everything you need, Lord Acton.”
Lord Acton. My lord. But never simply Everett. He’d asked her to use his given name months ago, right after their engagement had been announced, but she hadn’t yet done so. “Your dowry will benefit the children we will have together.”
“Of course,” she murmured, eyes lowering demurely again, and blushing.
It was a sad realization that Alice was as awkward with him now as when he’d asked for her hand in marriage.
She cast a look of longing toward the door when she heard a noise behind her, most likely her parents, by the sound of it.
He stood. “Shall we join your parents?”
“Yes, thank you.”
They did not go far before they heard Mrs. Quartermane calling out her daughter’s name in a whisper. Alice blushed, and hurried away to find her mother. Everett followed at a slower pace, wondering what he could do to make his future wife more comfortable before their wedding night. He did not like that she was uneasy with him. Although it was understandable. They were virtually strangers still, and had only three weeks to become better acquainted before they were bound together forever. A lot could happen in three weeks, he hoped.