Page 21 of Masquerading with the Duke
Jared took that as his cue to depart, put his empty cup aside and stood. ‘Until tomorrow, your grace,’ he said, with an inclination of his head. Thor jumped to his feet and wagged his tail.
‘I’ll walk to the stables with you,’ Lord Amos said, falling into step with him.
‘This damned heat,’ Jared said, swiping his forehead with the back of his arm. ‘When will the weather break?’
‘There is no sign of any let-up in the heat, I’m afraid,’ Lord Amos said. ‘I have another appointment within the hour. But if you have the time and inclination, feel free to go to the lake for a swim and cool off. You will have it to yourself.’
Jared was sorely tempted. There were no tasks awaiting him back at Musgrove Manor that couldn’t wait. He had spent all his adult life running from one engagement to the next with barely a moment to draw breath. There were always ruffled feathers to soothe in post-war France, but he was out of that game now and it was beyond time that he put his own pleasures first.
‘Well, if you’re sure.’
‘Perfectly so. Take your time. I’ll have Equinox sent over tomorrow as agreed, and we will see you again in the evening.’
‘Thank you.’
The men shook hands and went their separate ways. Jared retraced the route he had taken the previous day at a leisurely pace, feeling remarkably pleased with the start to his new life as a country gentleman. To be given free rein of this remarkable estate was the ultimate compliment and implied he had been accepted, that his loyalties were not in question. Hopefully, his disclosure about his family’s circumstances and the manner in which he had made his fortune would pass from Lord Amos to Clarence Vaughn and make him less of a suspect in that gentleman’s eyes. Jared’s more sensible thoughts urged him to leave things at that. Rumours about his questionable patriotism would fade soon enough, especially now that he had withdrawn from government service. It would only be a matter of time before the traitor leaked more secrets, and with Jared out of the field he couldn’t possibly be blamed.
But Jared knew that he couldn’t leave it. The desire to overcompensate for his father’s shortcomings would never go away. It was a matter of honour. There was a traitor running rings around Lord Romsey’s diplomats and Jared would do whatever he could to unmask the rogue.
A very slight breeze stirred the foliage and cooled him a little. The trees were in full leaf against a summer sky that was almost white. The breeze proved to be a transitory affair and the leaves stilled when it died. His lack of formal attire helped but he still felt insufferably hot, and was glad to find the lake every bit as deserted as Lord Amos had promised. He glanced at a boathouse the size of a cottage, with a veranda spanning its entire width. But his attention was focused upon the sparkling water that called to him. He took one final glance around to ensure that he wasn’t being observed by anything more embarrassing than a family of moorhens drifting lazily in the shallows. Assured of privacy, he stripped off everything except his drawers and felt a great sense of release.
‘Come along then,’ he said to Thor.
The two of them slipped down the bank. Jared scanned the tranquil surroundings as he and Thor waded into the shallows, sighing with pleasure as the water lapped against his knees. His feet slipped on the muddy bottom as the cool water on his hot skin took his breath away. When he had submerged himself as far as his waist, he dived beneath the water, swimming until his lungs were fit to burst. He surfaced a hundred yards from the bank and trod water as he pushed the wet hair away from his face, feeling cool and calm. With powerful and rhythmic sweeps of his arms and coordinated leg movements he swam until he’d almost reached the far end of the extensive lake, out of breath yet invigorated. A curious squirrel peered at him from the safety of a branch that overhung the lake before disappearing into its leafy canopy.
With a contented sigh, Jared turned on his back, closed his eyes and floated.
Chapter Six
‘What shall you do today?’ Ariana asked as the girls broke their fast together.
‘I hadn’t thought,’ Martina replied. ‘I suppose with nanny back on duty I will only disrupt the children from their routine if I join you in the nursery.’
‘Not at all.’
‘Even so.’ Martina felt as though she was being the most terrible burden, and yet still her sister had not demanded any explanations. ‘You fit in here so well, Ariana, but don’t you sometimes wish that–’
‘That our parents were not dead, our fortune not gone, our brother safe, although I refuse to think that he is dead too,’ A small sob slipped past Ariana’s lips, the only show of emotion that her sister would allow herself, Martina knew. ‘I simply cannot bear to think these things. Yes, dearest, of course I regret what’s happened to us, but I try to remain cheerful by reminding myself that there are others far worse off than we are. We are very lucky that Lord Amos rescued us and then provided us with security. I declare, we live in opulence beyond my wildest imaginings.’
‘Es verdad.We are extremely lucky in that regard. Everyone is very kind and considerate, but don’t you sometimes wish for a home of your own?’
Ariana took a moment to reflect. ‘That would require me to take a husband, and the prospect doesn’t appeal. Perhaps in the future, if I meet a man who stirs my passions and doesn’t attempt to curb my spirit I might be persuaded. However, after all we’ve been through, I am very wary about men’s expectations.’
Martina shuddered. ‘Si.’
‘Besides, for now I am content enough.’
‘You make me sound ungrateful for feeling unsettled. For not remaining with the Redrows…’
‘Not a bit of it. I have days, many days, when I rail against the gods who put us in this position. Then I remind myself that no gods were responsible for the behaviour of that horrible little Frenchman who seemed to think that he had a divine right to rule the world.’ She gave Martina a hug. ‘We shall come through this, my dear, never doubt it. Our experiences have made us stronger than most women of our age, and less willing to trust or be taken in by plausible tales of woe.’
Martina wanted to tease her sister about her growing dependence upon Lord Amos, but decided against it. Ariana was exquisitely beautiful, and had been receiving far too much interest from men since she had turned fifteen. She remained fiercely independent and impervious to those attentions, so perhaps Martina’s conviction that she felt differently about Lord Amos was simply wishful thinking. Ariana acknowledged Lord Amos’s part in saving them from a horrendous fate, the thought of which still reduced Martina to a shuddering wreck. They had been duped by a man posing as their saviour at a time when Spain had been in a state of flux, and placing their trust in that man had resulted in their being imprisoned, threatened and humiliated.
Memories of those terrible winter days when their future had seemed as bleak as the cold and windswept English countryside remained fresh in Martina’s mind, the source of her recurring nightmares. Perhaps what Ariana felt for Lord Amos was nothing more than abiding gratitude. Besides, Ariana was right. He was still in mourning for his dead wife.
‘We are survivors,’ Martina contented herself with saying.
‘If you want to do something to help today, then you can take a jar to the lake and try to catch more tadpoles.’ Ariana grinned. ‘One of Leo’s didn’t survive the journey back to the house. Josh’s did, so there are likely to be ructions.’
