Chapter 8
He found the little girl in the stables the next day. He should remember to call her Eleanor. It was the child’s name after all. He was terrible with children and had to keep reminding himself they were people too. Robert was trying to remember their names. The younger boys’ names he now recalled but the three older boys all looked alike. Shaggy brown hair, gangly arms and legs and features that were too big for their faces. He must have looked that way as a youth too.
Eleanor was patting the nose of a mare—the black mare that had been his sister’s horse before her marriage. The animal was a biddable creature. Eleanor seemed to know what she was doing.
Robert studied her for a moment, considering how to approach her so that he did not give her a fright. Something nagged at him about her looks, but he could not put his finger upon it. Her messy ginger hair had fallen out of its braid. He saw the ribbon lying a little distance away and he scooped it up and put it in his pocket to give to Lucy later.
He moved slowly around into her line of vision and Eleanor eventually noticed him and gave him a big smile. She pointed to the horse and then at him. He supposed she was asking if the horse was his.
“Yes, the horse is mine. Her name is Luna.”
Again, she gestured towards the mare then to him and made a motion as if riding.
“No, I do not ride Luna. My sister used to ride her.”
She pointed to herself with a look of hope in her eyes. He frowned, unsure of what to do. Luna was way too big for the little girl. She would need a pony. He probably had a pony somewhere but what would Lucy say?
Eleanor frowned too. It seemed she was worried he was annoyed at her.
“It is fine to ask Eleanor. Luna is too big for you and I am not sure if Miss Butterworth would let you ride a pony.” Tears filled the little girl’s big green eyes and Robert grimaced. Damn, the last thing he wanted to do was make a child cry, especially a child with as few advantages in life as this poor little creature. “We shall discuss it. But I also must ask the staff if we have a saddle for a girl your size. Do you understand?” Eleanor nodded. He could blame it on not having the correct tack if Lucy said no. He did not want the child resenting the nearest thing she had to a mother. It occurred to him that child was actually very good at lip reading. She had understood the entire conversation so far. “Come, I shall introduce you to the other horses.”
When Lucy discovered them half an hour later, Robert was showing Eleanor his brown gelding Apollo. He had placed her to sit sideways on the beast’s back. The animal was completely biddable and knew his master well and Robert was not at all concerned for the child’s safety. Besides, he was holding on to her. Eleanor was giggling silently and bouncing up and down. Apollo was completely unperturbed.
“My goodness, what is going on? She will scare the horse half to death and he shall throw her?” Lucy’s voice rang loud and clear in the quiet stables. A couple of stable hands who were quietly mucking out stables stopped to watch the drama.
Robert stopped the woman in her tracks with a stare. “Miss Butterworth, while my knowledge of children is somewhat lacking, my knowledge of my own horse is unsurpassed, even by my own stable master. Apollo does not mind Eleanor being on his back. If he did, I would not be holding her up here. Please cease you feminine hysterics before you upset both child and beast.”
Her wide eyes turned into a glare and her mouth pursed. It was almost kissable. Eleanor stopped bouncing and stared at Lucy, her eyes a mirror image of the woman in the stable.
Something clicked.
Robert looked from one to the other and then he knew. She was Eleanor’s aunt. She was caring for the bastard child of her brother and passing this child off as any other orphan. God, he hated his gender at times. Why could her brother not just raise the child as his own? Robert was sure if he knew of any bastards he had spawned he would do the right thing by the mothers. He was absolutely sure he was not a father. But he certainly would not have left his poor sister to clear up his mess.
He smiled warmly at the child. “Tomorrow we shall come and see the horses again.”
Eleanor smiled back and nodded. He put her back on her feet and she skipped past Lucy waving happily.
“They all seem to be quite at home already. Do they have the run of your brother’s estate?”
“Oh well he was seldom there to care.”
“Why does he not want them there now?”
“His new wife is… not keen.”
“Any particular reason?”
“Not as far as I know.”
“Really Lucy. Are you telling me you do not know about Eleanor’s true origins or are you pretending not to know.”
Her cheeks flushed. “I…I…”
“It is hardly your fault if your brother is a cad.”
“What has my brother to do with anything.”
“She is his bastard, is she not?”
“I can assure you, My Lord, that child is not the daughter of Baron Melvin Butterworth. Please do not besmirch my brother’s name in such a way again.”
“I assumed because well the red hair and the eyes and… well… hmm!”
“Perhaps you would do well not to make assumptions, My Lord.”
“Are you sure she is not his? There are a lot of similarities.”
“Absolutely positive.”
“Then I apologise. I do however believe you are holding something back from me. I just wish I knew what.” She looked away from him and seemed far too interested in a bale of hay in the corner.
“I am sure I do not know what you mean, My Lord.”
“Hmm, I shall let it rest, Miss Butterworth, but I shall get to the bottom of your fascination with orphans before this month is through.”
“Did Jesus not say, ‘suffer the little children to come unto me?’” She had raised her little pert nose in the air. His prick twitched.
“He did.”
“Then perhaps you should try to emulate Our Lord and Saviour, My Lord.” There was something quite heretical about getting aroused by a woman quoting Scripture. However, Miss Butterworth…Lucy, would make a monk want to bed her with those luscious lips and those large pert breasts that were heaving in indignation. “Are you wool-gathering, Lord Whitsnow?”
He returned his attention to her annoyed gaze.
“Ah yes, I fear I was. I apologise.”
“What were you thinking about?”
He started. Well he could hardly tell her the truth.”
“Kissing.” That was sort of the truth.
“Kissing? Kissing whom?”
“No one in particular really. I was just thinking it was a long time since I had kissed anyone.” He approached her.
“My Lord, the servants,” she reminded him.
“I saw them all leave when you were having your little tantrum about Eleanor on the horse.”
“It was not a tantrum.”
“It looked like one from where I was standing.”
“I thought she was unsafe.”
“Because as the male of the species I am incapable of nurturing and ensuring the safety of the young of the species?” He was standing too close to her now—far too close to be appropriate.
“Stop putting words into my mouth, you boorish man.”
“You find me boorish.” His lips quirked up at that. “Better to be boorish than boring, do you not think?”
“You are no gentleman, My Lord.”
“I only ever claimed to hold a title, Miss Butterworth. I never claimed any gentlemanly graces. You assumed I had them. You should ask my sister. She finds me an utter failure in the kindness department.”
“Am I… going to come to harm here?”
That gave Robert pause.
He lifted her hand, surprised to find she had no gloves on. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the inside of her wrist. It drew a gasp from her. His gaze returned to hers.
“You know you are in no danger here or you would have stayed in your brother’s house and awaited your fate. Instead you came here with the sole intention of eventually marrying me.”
“No, I did not. I cannot marry you.”
“You can, and you will. I want you, my darling and by the time this month is over, you will be a permanent fixture in my bed.”
“I have told you before that I cannot marry.”
“Why? There is no reason for you not to marry. We established you are not already married. Are you deformed?”
“Deformed?”
“I don’t know, maybe… um down below. I have never seen a woman deformed down below but I suppose…”
“No.” Her cheeks were flushing bright red. Robert struggled to hide his amusement.
“I am happy to take a look for you. I mean, with my expert knowledge, I could give you an honest appraisal. I almost feel honour bound as a gentleman to offer now.”
“My Lord, there is nothing wrong down below.”
“Are you quite sure? My examination would be very thorough, and I have warm hands.”
“You are abhorrent.”
“And yet the corners of your mouth are trying so very hard not to turn up into a smile. There is a little bit in you, Miss Butterworth, a little wicked bit of you that would like to take me up on my offer, is there not?”
He was serious now and she knew it. He could see the way her gaze sought the real him in the depth of his eyes. Her tongue darted out and licked her lips.
“I could not take you up on your offer because it is not done, My Lord.” And then she lifted her skirts just enough so she could turn and flee the stables at a full run.
Robert moved back to Apollo, saddled him, found a set of reins to put on him and mounted the beast.
“My Lord, you should have shouted for me,” said Jim, the stable lad.
“No need. I was happy to do it for once.”
“Is the lady giving you grief? I find the girls like a nice walk by the waterfall. All romantic, you know.”
“I see. That’s the sum total of your wisdom on women.”
“Well that and take a bit of time before you ask to feel their breasts.”
Robert barked out a laugh. “Yes, that is true. How long is an adequate bit of time?”
“Take her to the waterfall at least once.”
“I see. I shall consider your wise words.”
“Jim, I hope you’re not bothering His Lordship,” said the stablemaster, Mr Mellings, coming into the stables.
“Not at all. He was giving me sage advice. About women.”
“Was he. You know he got that black eye from Annie Harlow, don’cha?”
“I did not.”
“He got fresh with her and she was none too pleased.”
“Hmm, maybe you want to take these girls to the waterfall twice then, eh?”
Robert was still chuckling to himself as he led Apollo out through the yard and into a field where he and the animal could get some decent exercise. How long until he could feel Lucy’s breasts? Too damned long, in his opinion.