Chapter Seven
Hugh made his way toward Adam’s study in a haze of anger he couldn’t dispel. He should have asked his brother to make his excuses to Deborah. Anything would have sufficed.
Had Eleanor’s regard for him truly been so trivial? Everything about her manner with him—from her clandestine spying at the pond to the kiss they’d just shared—said the opposite. They had found pleasure in each other’s company before. Their dealings since Hugh had been home had been strained, it was true, and he could neither explain nor disregard it. But tonight, she had seemed happy to see him. They’d conversed easily on their way in to dinner, and she’d thrown him flirtatious looks throughout the meal.
So what had happened? Damned if he knew, and now he must meet his mother alone, a situation he’d dreaded, avoided, since he’d been back in England. He had nothing to say to her that wouldn’t cause more pain to both of them.
The door was closed, and he knocked lightly before entering. She was standing before the hearth, which was nothing more than ash at this point. “Deborah. Adam said you wanted to see me.”
“Yes.” Her expression was guarded. Something in his voice must have warned her of his mood.
He should walk over to her, but his feet felt like they had in Canada when he’d sunk into an eight-foot snowdrift. Moving forward was not a possibility. Instead, he stood on the threshold and waited for her to speak.
“Won’t you sit down, Hugh?” she asked.
“I prefer to stand.” He moved into the room, keeping his distance.
“You won’t mind if I sit? I find that I’m exhausted by these parties that require me to be charming, yet on my guard, for an entire evening.”
Hugh waited while she rearranged her skirts. At length, growing impatient with womanly tricks and prevarications, Hugh said, “Why am I here, Deborah?”
She looked up at that. “Oh, Hugh, can you not guess?” She tilted her head and fixed her still-bright blue eyes on him. “I want to know if you will come back to us. To Adam and me. Now that your father is gone—”
“You think I am desperate for a family since the old man died? Have I judged it accurately?” I should leave. Now. Before things get out of hand. But the pain inside drove him on. “I’ve had nobody for a long time, Deborah. I don’t need you or Adam in my life. Over the years, I learned to get along without you.”
Finally, he walked toward her, close enough to see the tears streaming down the oval of her face. “You walked out with my brother and never visited, never even so much as wrote to me.”
“But I—”
Hugh held up a restraining hand. “Don’t. Please.”
His mother seemed to wilt, and sobs burst from her in quiet little gasps. And in an instant, his anger dissolved, and he felt like a cad. He should not have gone to Deborah immediately after Eleanor had rebuffed him.
What sort of man makes his own mother cry? But he had reason, by God. He had reason. He spun around and made for the door, but the pathetic sound of her weeping stopped him. Turning back, Hugh said, “I wish it could be different, Deborah. God knows, I wish it could be different.” Then he exited the room, walking swiftly through the entry hall and, nodding to Flynn, out the front door.
The air had cooled. A brisk walk to his lodgings would do him good. Sounds of the city at night surrounded him—hackneys rattling over the cobblestones, the distant cry of the watchman, the shouts of young men on their way to their nighttime carousing. After a few blocks, he stopped. He’d nearly been running, as though an entire regiment of American soldiers were chasing him. He bent at the waist, hands on his thighs, and sucked in deep breaths. When he straightened at last, he’d regained some equilibrium.
Coming to Town had been a mistake. After his cruelty to Deborah, he wouldn’t be invited back. What had possessed him to behave in such an ungentlemanly manner toward her? Could he never shake off his past? Christ, he was over thirty years old. Right then and there, he vowed to let go of the perceived hurts inflicted on him by his mother. It was time to move on.
But he could not change overnight. Keeping himself isolated in the country should be no problem and would allow him the time he needed. And he could avoid Eleanor without too much trouble. She’d made her feelings plain, and he wasn’t a man to importune a woman who didn’t want his attentions.
Because he had arranged appointments with his man of business and his banker, he would remain in London through the morning. And then it was off to Surrey, where he could concentrate on the huge task of the rebuilding in earnest.
…
Surrey, two days later
Eleanor had relived the dinner party and what had happened between her and Hugh over and over since arriving home yesterday. She groaned out loud every time she thought about how things had ended between them. That soul-piercing kiss, and then her resolve to push him away. The ugly things they’d said to each other. Sexual congress? Where had she ever even heard that phrase? What must he think of her?
She was seated on the garden bench at the cottage sipping tea, Bobby dancing around her feet as usual. Although she’d slept at her parents’ last night, she had slipped away before dawn. With a full day’s work ahead of her, she required some time to herself before her two talkative assistants shattered her peace. It was early yet. The sun had just tipped the horizon, bathing the world in a warm glow. It had rained during the night, tapping on the roof and waking her, and the newly scythed grass surrounding her cottage sent up an earthy, fresh scent. Walking here had dampened her slippers, but the sun would soon dry them.
She let out a sigh. If she actually could relive the evening, not merely in her memory, would she change anything? She’d certainly leave out the “sexual congress” part. But never the kiss. She wouldn’t change that. And the rest of it, even though it pained her, was necessary to keep her secret. She couldn’t let Hugh in. He was too smart, too perceptive. It would weigh on her, this secret, if he were a fixture in her life. He would soon guess she was hiding something and would—even if gently and kindly—coax the truth from her.
At odd times, Eleanor was tormented by the knowledge that she was separating Hugh from his child, over whom he had as much of a claim as she. In the past, he’d treated Eleanor with gentleness and patience, and she sensed he’d be that way with children as well. But weighed against the all-consuming fear that churned inside her whenever she contemplated the possible consequences of telling him, she could bear the shame and guilt of keeping Hugh from Lili. At least for now.
Time to get to work. She had plenty to do before her assistants arrived. She rose from the bench and hastened inside to her duties, spending the next hour laying out the gowns and dresses they were working on and the supplies they needed.
…
A week after the dinner party
Hugh had immersed himself in work since he’d been back at Longmere. He was quickly finding out that hiring Ned Martin had been the smartest decision he’d made since returning from Canada. The man was a workhorse. Not only did he do everything Hugh asked of him, he took on extra jobs, especially the ones everybody else hated—like digging and hauling away massive amounts of earth. Hugh had quit trying to limit Ned to working with the tenants; if the man saw something that needed doing, he seemed pathologically unable to walk away from it. The one place Ned seemed truly relaxed was at his parents’ tavern. He and Hugh had raised a tankard or two there and had even enjoyed a meal together.
John Ridley’s crew had arrived at last, and the building had commenced. Ridley himself was there one day and nowhere to be seen the next. Hugh never knew when to expect him. The contractor was residing in Haslemere, however, and according to Ridley, he was the best in the business. Hugh took him at his word and hoped he wouldn’t regret it.
He had not crossed paths with Eleanor since the night of the dinner party, and while he hadn’t gone out of his way to avoid her, neither had he made any special attempt to see her. During the past week his thoughts had strayed to that meeting between them on the terrace, to the strangeness of it. How she’d kissed him, clung to him, and then abruptly put a stop to the heat blazing through them both. But he’d been mistaken, and it was only he who’d been on fire.
And yet…
He could recognize the difference between a woman who wanted him and one who emphatically did not. And with Eleanor, all the signs had been there. The ones signaling her interest, both the day before, when they had driven to the park, and at the dinner party. What, then, was wrong? One minute she had given in to her urge to kiss and hold him; the next, she had pushed him away. She couldn’t “dally” with him because of her work. He’d like to send her dressmaking business to the devil. And he’d like to know why in the hell she needed money.
Devil take it, he’d pressed too far, too fast. He gave his head a shake. He’d no time for analyzing female brains, especially that of one female. If Eleanor wanted him, she would need to make the next move.
Since everything at the site seemed to be well in hand, Hugh and Ned were riding out to visit tenants. After packing up their food and drink, they mounted and set out. Hugh wanted nothing more than to get his mind off Eleanor, and the beauty of the morning seemed suited for that. Rain during the night had freshened the air. Droplets of moisture still clung to trees and bushes. Grouse and cock rustled through the underbrush, and the cooing of wood pigeons helped soothe his wounded spirits.
Ned pointed out various changes along the way. Of special interest were the newly enclosed arable fields for planting and those for grazing. After a few hours spent conferring with various farmers about crops—primarily oats and barley—outbuildings, and fields, they gladly put in some time helping dig a drainage trench for one of the tenants, Peter Allen. Afterward, they drank a tankard of ale with him. Hugh begged off taking a meal with his family, as he wanted to speak privately with Ned about other concerns. The latter suggested a spot by a stream where they could partake of the victuals in the hamper they’d brought, and they rode off in that direction.
After laying out the food on an old coverlet, they quickly tucked in, both so hungry they didn’t speak for several minutes. Simple sustenance, but to Hugh, after the morning’s labors, it seemed like a king’s banquet. Cold roast chicken, bread, a fine, hard cheese, and fresh berries. And more ale, of course. Just when Hugh was set, between bites, to raise some issues about the building of Longmere, Ned spoke.
“Your brother is a fine man, Sir Hugh. He’s not like other MPs. He visits here often and talks to the citizens. He cares about us, like you do about your tenants.”
None of this surprised Hugh. But he didn’t particularly like hearing someone speak of his brother as though he were a glorified guardian angel. Didn’t like being compared to him, either. But it wouldn’t be politic to reveal that to his steward. “Glad to hear it. He’s doing the job well, then. All that Sir William expects of him.” He couldn’t quite keep the sarcasm from his voice, however, and Ned hurriedly changed the subject.
“Have you thought about a leg shackle, sir? You’ll have a fine house to raise a family in.”
The man seemed to have a knack for raising topics Hugh would prefer to avoid. In all the time they spent together, they’d never discussed anything personal, which was, perhaps, rather odd. Hugh snorted and tried to make a joke of it. “Not yet. I haven’t been back long, and I’ve much to accomplish before I think about taking anyone to wife.” The best tactic would be to throw this back at Ned, and so he did. “What about you? Are you courting?”
Ned looked pensive. “The woman I loved married somebody else. Can you imagine that? I thought it was me she wanted, and she turned around and…” His voice tapered off. “It’s water under the bridge now.”
“And that’s why you haven’t been able to let it go?” Hugh asked softly.
Ned smirked. “You’ve got me there.”
“You’re a fine fellow, Ned. There are plenty of women who would welcome your suit.”
The other man chuckled. “Oh, I know that, but finding the right one is a different matter altogether.”
Hugh poured them each more ale. “Anything new to report on the building?”
“I’ve hired five local men—two carpenters, one iron worker, and a couple of stone masons. And just so you know, one of the men is my youngest brother and another is a brother-in-law. They’re good men, all.”
“And what about the bricks?”
“The bricks will be made on site from local clay. The color should be what you wanted, a pale gray.”
Hugh nodded. “Excellent. I don’t know how I’d manage without you on this, Ned. It may not be what you intended, but you’ve made yourself indispensable to me.”
Ned had started clearing up, but paused long enough to say, “No, Sir Hugh. Nobody’s indispensable. But I’m not afraid of hard work, I’ll grant you that.”
On the ride back to Longmere, they discussed security on the building site. “I think you should hire a nighttime watchman,” Ned said.
“Is that really necessary?”
The other man shrugged. “Probably not. But glass, stone, wood, bricks, tools…better to take precautions.”
“Several men are sleeping above the stables. That’s not good enough?” Hugh guided his horse around some brambles, then said, “It would be awfully hard for thieves in the night to haul away such heavy, unwieldy materials. But if you think it best, I’ll find someone.”
“I have someone in mind. He’s a cousin of mine…”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake, am I supporting the entire Martin family?” Hugh asked. But he laughed good-naturedly.
…
Eleanor was livid. She’d gone to see Lili directly after a light meal, reasoning that she could spare the time for a short visit. Earlier, they’d finished one gown for a come-out ball and had completed all but the flounce on another. She’d told Jane and Minnie to go home for a few hours. As soon as they were gone, Eleanor had walked up to the house and asked a groom to ready the gig.
But when she’d arrived at the Abbots’, Lili wasn’t there. The detestable Jacob Abbot told her with a scowl on his face that Edith had gone to see her mother and taken the child with her. Abbot left her standing at the front door while they talked.
“Mr. Abbot, I’m sure you are aware this was one of the agreed-upon times of day for Lili to be at home. It’s one of the few times I’m able to get away.”
He stood there with his arms crossed over his chest, smirking. “Didn’t you ever think maybe it wasn’t such a convenient time for us?”
Her temper was near to exploding. Because he was goading her, she kept it in check. With great effort. “I shall have my father pay you a visit. Perhaps he needs to review the agreement with you. The one you signed.”
He unfolded his arms and made as though to shut the door.
Eleanor shouldn’t argue with the man, but today she couldn’t help it. “It’s not as though you’re not here most of the day, now is it?”
A nervous tick pulsed on one of his cheeks. “You tell your father to come by. We need more money from the deal. We do a lot for that little girl, for all the thanks we get.” He slammed the door in her face, and she stomped off toward the gig.
When she was out of sight of the house, she reined in the horse and unleashed a slew of curses. Then she dropped her head in her hands and moaned. Why, why, had she ever let her mother and father convince her that this was the right decision for Lili? Eleanor made up her mind to dine with her parents that evening and discuss the matter. She didn’t want her mother involved, though. If Eleanor arrived early enough, she could catch her father alone, before dinner.
What worried her most was the fact that Jacob Abbot’s recalcitrance regarding the child seemed deliberate. If that was true, what did he stand to gain? And what had changed? Lili had stayed with the Abbots for nearly two years without any problems of this nature. With a baby coming, perhaps they simply needed more money. But something told her there was more to it than that.
The afternoon dragged on endlessly. Jane continued her work on two rows of embroidery trailing up the center front of a pelisse. She seemed to have endless patience for it. Such close work made Eleanor want to rip her hair out. She herself set in the satin lining of a mantle. She hated working with satin because it was so slippery, and every so often, a curse slipped out, causing Jane to giggle.
When the light grew too dim to continue working, Eleanor dismissed her assistant. As soon as she’d put everything away, she gathered her things and made her way to her family home.