Page 3 of Enamored with a Brooding Earl
A small, sad smile came over his mother’s face. “No, it certainly was not. No amount of money is worth one’s life. But your brother would not listen. I tried to reason with him but he refused to listen to me. I can promise you that, had you been in England, he would not have listened to you either.”
“Ah, but I could have tried,” James muttered, closing his eyes and pulling his hand away from his mother’s. “That might have assuaged my guilt just a little.”
“It is guilt that you do not have to bear,” she said, firmly. “Release the burden from your shoulders, my son. We have enough pain to deal with already.”
When James opened his eyes, he saw the smile on his mother’s face, though he did not understand it.
“You must know how proud I am of you,” she said, when James’ frown grew heavier. “You are a gentleman who has done nothing but shoulder the responsibility that you were never meant to have. Your brother almost ruined us but you have brought us back to respectability. I know how hard you have worked to regain our fortune. I know how much you have taken on, the decisions you have had to make, the struggle that the last few years have been. But we are now returning to the smaller estate by theshoreline, an estate which we feared we would have to sell, but instead, we are now returning there for a short respite.”
“It is to be your Dower house, mother,” James reminded her, seeing the smile that spread right across her face, sending light into her eyes. “I would have done anything required of me to keep it for you. I know how much you adore this place.”
Lady Calverton pressed his hand tightly one more time, then released it as she sat back up into her seat. “My dear son, you bring joy to my weary heart.” She tilted her head. “But you like this place also, do you not? The curl of the waves on the sea, the wind which runs wildly through the trees?”
“The howling gales and the torrential rain?” James added, a little wryly as his mother laughed. “I am not certain that I shall appreciate such things as that.”
“Though there are many memories of such things, I know,” came the reply as James nodded, his smile fading. “We came here many a time when you and your brother were boys. I have always been fond of it. Besides which, I believe that it is very good for one’s health and perhaps now, more than ever, we need to have such a respite!”
James nodded but did not smile, turning his head to look out of the carriage window again. The carriage turned into the long, gravel drive but before it could go any further, James reached up and rapped on the roof.
“I think I shall walk for a short while before I return to the house,” he explained, as the door was opened for him. “I have been sitting in this carriage for much too long and require a little fresh air. Will you be quite all right by yourself?”
His mother nodded, not questioning what it was that he desired to do. “I shall be perfectly contented. I intend to take tea in the parlor and look out across the estate towards the sea.”
James smiled briefly, nodded and then stepped outside. Giving the driver the instruction to take his mother and all their other belongings to the manor house, he turned and strode away from the carriage, making his way out of the driveway and instead, along the path to the side of the estate. Many a time he and his brother had walked along this path as boys, many a time had they escaped together from whatever his father had been intending for them to do. He knew exactly where it led and, all these years later, the path itself was still intact. It led him through the moorland,moorland which was damp under his feet, until he came to the top of the cliffs.
It was there that James paused, his hands going to his hips, his face turned to the wind as he looked out across the waves. The spray of the sea blew up towards him, coating his skin but James made no effort to wipe it away. Here, at least, he felt as though the wind were blowing away some of the heaviness which had clung to his soul for the last few years. Here, he did not have to think about his bills, about his income, about the crops and the many debts he had still to pay. Here, he could be free of all of that for a time.
This last year, his stocks had done marvelously well and, thus he had been able to pay off the last of his brother’s debts. It meant that he had very little to put into the rest of his business, but it was enough to know that there was nothing else required to be repaid. He had succeeded in keeping the dower houseandhis own estate – albeit in the knowledge that some improvements would soon be required – and that had been a great blessing to his mind. For the first time in some years, he was going to permit himself to do nothing as regarded his estate and business affairs. He was going to take some time to walk through the moors, to walk along the shoreline, to let himself feel a freedom which had evaded him for some time.
I am sorry I did not come back in time to stop you, Simon.
James dropped his head, the guilt which had forever plagued him returning back again with force. It did not matter what his mother had said, it did not matter what she had tried to encourage him with, he still felt responsible for his absence. If he had been present, then Simon might never have fallen as far as he had done – and his death might never have come about.Hewould be the Earl of Calverton and James would have his own position under that but now, James himself had the responsibility to the estate and to his mother. A responsibility that he had never been meant to have.
“But I will do my utmost to keep our name and the family title respectable,” he muttered, as the wind chased the words away as soon as they had been spoken. The shame which Simon had brought to them all had been great but James was determined to restore it.
Though that means that I must find a suitable match.
Scowling, James shook his head to himself, turning away as he walked back along the path towards his estate. He had eschewed the thought of making his way to London for the Season. He did not have enough of a fortune to consider matrimony, not as yet, and, were he honest, the thought of stepping back into a society who would still look at him and whisper about all that his brother had done was not a pleasant one. No, for the moment, James would keep his thoughts away from such things. When the time was right,thenhe would force himself back to society but for the moment, his place was here. Here, in the wind and by the waves; a place where he might be free.
Chapter Three
Temperance hummed quietly to herself as she made her way down the familiar path from the estate to the cliffs. Her uncle, Lord Hartford, had taken great care to show her the way when she had first arrived at the estate, telling her that he often found great solace there and thinking that she might find the same.
How right he had been.
She smiled to herself, thinking of her uncle and wondering when he might return from the continent. He had been gone some months now, though his letters assured both herself and her aunt that all was well – and that his interests abroad were doing very well indeed. Both he and her aunt had encouraged her love of sketching, drawing and painting in a way that no-one else ever had, insisting that she purchase whatever she required and with her uncle firm in his resolve thathewould pay for it. How grateful she was to them both for the love they had shown her, as well as their gentle understanding. It was clear to Temperance that her own parents – her mother especially – did not seem to understand just how much sorrow and pain she still bore from her scar. Her mother’s urging to return to London had been difficult for Temperance to hear. Did her mother not realize what society would think of Temperance and her outward appearance? Did she not see that there would be nothing but whispers and rumors flying around thetonabout her? Was she truly so desperate for Temperance to marry that she would force her back into London society?
She cannot force me,Temperance told herself, aware of the slight trembling which ran through her.I will not go, no matter how hard she tries.
A little breathless from the quick walk she had taken, Temperance paused at her favorite spot, catching her breath and looking out towards the sea. She stood at the lowest point of the cliffs, the shore beneath her, though her uncle had warned her never to climb down to the shore fromthispart. Instead, there was a path a little further along the way which Temperance took sometimes. But not today. Smiling to herself, Temperance sat down on a large rock which, she sometimes thought, had beenplaced there by God himself, knowing that she would one day use it to sit on so she might draw, and took out her paper and pencil.
Her eyes searched the horizon, taking everything in and then, she let herself begin to draw freely. There was a darkness to the sea today which caught her attention. Some parts danced with light as the sunshine bounced from the tops of the waves and the breakers, whereas most of it held a strength of deep color which she could not help but take note of. She sketched quickly and carefully, already eager to return home and begin to paint this very scene. She wanted to remember all of it, wanted to take in every part and thus, she made every single press of her pencil with great care and precision. Her lips pressed tight together as she gave all of her concentration to her sketch, hearing the cry of the wheeling gulls above her head, mixing together with the crash of the waves beneath. The sketch quickly came together and Temperance offered it a small smile. She was pleased with what she had captured, all too aware of how quickly the landscape could change and just how much of it she could miss if she was not hasty enough.
Rising to her feet, Temperance placed her pencil back in her pocket, ready to return to the house and begin painting, only for a sudden gust of wind to snatch the paper from her hand.
“No!” Temperance rushed after her paper, her heart pounding furiously. Already, the sky and the sea had changed and if she were to lose that paper, she would not be able to keep a hold of the scene in her mind for long enough to paint it. The wind teased her, pulling the paper away from her grasping fingers and then letting it fall again, letting it settle on the grass for only a few moments before tugging it away again. Temperance stumbled a little, her mouth going dry as she thought of the paper being pulled into the sea, losing it forever. Her art was her only passion, the only thing which made her heart sing and her spirits lift. Others might say that it was only a sketch but to Temperance, it was of great importance.
“Please!” she cried aloud, as though the wind might listen to her and stop what it was doing. Instead, it ignored her cries, pulling the paper down over the edge of the cliff and down towards the shore. Her heart in her throat, Temperance made her way to the edge, looking down helplessly, watching as the paper dropped lower and lower… only to snag against a piece of driftwood which stuck out from between the rocks and stones which lined the top of the shore.
