Addie: To Wager On Her Future (Other Pens, Mansfield Park Book 5) Page 8

  Thundering across a field on the back of a great racer was nothing compared to the exhilaration she felt when his lips met hers. She clutched Hugo’s reins tightly in one hand as her other hand, of its own accord, found its way to Mr. Eldridge’s jaw. A small groan escaped him as she stroked his smooth, well-shaven skin. His mouth claimed hers more greedily, his tongue teased her lips, sending shivers through her.

  Then, just as her lips opened and her tongue touched his, he pulled away.

  “That was likely not a good idea,” he whispered. His hand cupped her cheek. His thumb stroked her lips. “For I would very much like to do that again and again.”

  He was not alone in such a desire. “Then –” She paused. Her voice sounded shockingly breathy and wanton! “Then,” she began again in a slightly less aroused tone, “I suggest you continue to win races, and I will give you one kiss per win.”

  He chuckled. “If that is the reward, I shan’t ever lose another race.”

  “You might,” Addie said as she clucked to Hugo and pressed her heels into his side.

  “And what will you claim if you win,” Mr. Eldridge called after her.

  Addie shrugged. “I have no idea.” And it was the truth, for she could not think of a thing in the world that Mr. Eldridge could provide which she wanted more at this moment than another kiss.

  Chapter 10

  Later as Robert sat watching Miss Atwood put Hugo through his paces, he broached his idea to take her home with him to her brother. There was no part of him that wanted to be parted from her for any length of time. “It might be beneficial if your sister were to join us at Stonegate. She is excellent with Hugo.”

  “I would like very much to have Addie join us. I would rather not leave her alone just now.”

  That was precisely the answer for which Robert had been hoping.

  “Are you asking so that she can continue to help train Hugo, or is it more?” James gave Robert a pointed look.

  “More.” Robert held James’s gaze.

  “She has just lost her father.”

  “Yes, I know.”

  “She is vulnerable.”

  “I am not exploiting the circumstances. I would have asked your father should he have survived for me to do so.”

  “It would be an advantage to have Silverthorne so closely tied to you.”

  Was that an accusation he heard in young Atwood’s voice?

  “I will not deny that such is true,” Robert replied, “but that is not why I wish to see if your sister and I would suit.”

  James waited silently for Robert to continue.

  “Actually, I am quite certain we would suit. She is unique. Part of that is how well she is acquainted with horses, but there is something more. It will almost certainly sound foolish to you, but whatever it is which draws me to her is indescribable.” He blew out a breath. “She fits. It is as if she was designed to be part of my life.”

  “Is it as if you can see her sitting beside the hearth with you on a winter’s evening?” James’s eyes were no longer fixed on Robert but had shifted to look off into the distance.

  “That is it precisely.” It was curious that James should understand such a thing, for up until now, Robert had not thought he was the sort to think as deeply as something such as that would take. “You speak as if you are acquainted with the feeling.”

  James nodded. “There is a lady who has been particularly difficult to not continually think of in such a fashion.”

  That was intriguing. “Is there a reason why you should rid your mind of this particular young woman?”

  “I am in no way ready to take on a wife. You know the mess I have made of things.”

  That was undeniable. James Atwood had made a grand mess of things. However, just because one made poor choices did not mean one must always be doomed to be less than wise. “I nearly allowed Tom to die. I guarantee you that I will not make the same mistake again, and I assume you will not engage in a game of chance with the likes of Camden ever again.”

  James’s head bobbed up and down slowly as if he was both agreeing and pondering the thought. “I am still not ready. Silverthorne will need a mistress but not until the master has found his footing.” He shrugged. “I had hoped to have Addie to help me with the transition, but I can see how she watches you.”

  She watched him? That was a pleasant thought. Very pleasant, indeed.

  “You would treat her well,” James continued. “You did not have to help us when you heard about Camden, but you did. Your character seems sound, and,” his lips tipped upwards, “you would not keep my sister from the one thing which soothes her soul.”

  “Horses?”

  James nodded.

  “We are alike in that way,” Robert admitted. “She seems a natural with them.”

  “She always has been. I believe she inherited that from our father.” There was a wistfulness to Atwood’s tone. It seemed his confidence might need some bolstering.

  “Then, he has passed it on to both his children.”

  James shook his head.

  “I am not flattering you,” Robert said. “Horses are a serious business to me. I do not compliment where it is not due. I will allow that there might be more of a natural bent in Miss Atwood, but I believe you have the potential to be nearly as good as your sister.”

  That sister was just rounding the stone pillar and racing toward the makeshift gate they had erected to allow the horses to practice their gait coming into a jump. Without taking his eyes off Miss Atwood, Robert continued his conversation with James.

  “You will need to become every bit as good as her if you wish for Silverthorne to succeed and provide for you and your family. Whatever you do, do not hide from the responsibility. It will not go away and spending what you do not have to spend will not add to your coffers. One day, I hope to be as good at managing accounts as my sister is.”

  James chuckled. “Where would we men be without sisters such as ours?”

  “I would rather not speculate on such a disaster,” Robert replied with a laugh. “It is a good thing someone in our families was born with the sense to remain focused on what was truly important.”

  “Indeed, it is,” James agreed.

  “I have agreed to take you with me when I go to Stonegate,” he called to his sister as she approached.

  The smile which lit Miss Atwood’s face was the stuff for which a gentleman wished, or, at least, it was for Robert. To know that she was so happy to not be separated from him was delightful beyond compare.

  “You will be joining us for tea, will you not, Eldridge?” James asked.

  “You could not keep me from it.”

  James shook his head. “Insufferable, that is what a gent becomes once his heart is engaged. The same happened to my friend Willet.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Addie asked in surprise. “Mr. Willet has found a lady?”

  “He thinks he has. Her father is not so certain of the fact, however.”

  “That I can understand,” Addie muttered.

  “What do you mean?” James questioned.

  “Mr. Willet is charming to be sure, but how shall I say this?”

  “Directly, I would guess,” James muttered.

  “That is often the best way to say things,” Robert inserted. “Or so my sister says.”

  “I do like your sister.” Miss Atwood laughed.

  “Tell me what is wrong with my charming friend which would cause a father to not readily give his daughter to the chap?” James asked.

  “Unless Mr. Willet has changed since the last time I saw him, he seems the sort to pose a danger to a lady’s virtue, and as such, I would be reticent to tie my daughter to him.”

  That was rather direct, Robert thought. Much like his sister would have said something.

  “If a gentleman has wandered before he is married,” she continued, “he might also wander after he is married. There is often no acknowledgment of the sanctity of the marriage agreement present in such
gentlemen. Just consider Mr. Crawford.”

  “He was not married,” Robert inserted. “Indeed, he is not married now, though he soon will be.”

  Miss Atwood arched an eyebrow. “He was not married, but Mrs. Rushworth was. And, Mr. Crawford was not entirely free, for he had made an offer to Fanny! None of those things kept him from doing what he did.” She shrugged. “Mr. Willet reminds me of Mr. Crawford. Both are very capable of charming whatever they want from whomever they wish to take it. Unless, of course, it is a lady of good sense such as Fanny is.”

  Miss Atwood’s ability to draw from one disaster and project it as a possibility on another situation was also a great deal like what Faith would do, and Faith was most often right in her insights. “Henry Crawford is not that way any longer,” Robert assured Miss Atwood.

  “I am happy to hear it, but there is no assurance that Mr. Willet has changed.”

  “Have you always felt this way about my friend?” James asked in surprise.

  His sister nodded.

  “And you did not tell me?”

  She shook her head. “You would not have listened, for he had charmed you. I dare say he was with you when you wagered against Mr. Camden.”

  From the expression James wore, his sister’s assumption was dead accurate.

  “He tried to charm me once,” Miss Atwood added.

  “He did what?” James cried in surprise.

  “He tried to charm me. It was after I had come back from riding, and he met me in the stables.”

  “And you never told me?” There was a growl of displeasure in James’s tone as there should be. Robert would have been just as angered to hear such a thing from his sister.

  She shook her head. “You would not have listened. You were not yourself for some time.”

  “For how long have I not been myself?”

  James was looking horrified with all that was being revealed, and Robert felt sorry for the fellow. Facing one’s shortcomings was not something which was done easily. The reality of having failed miserably was the sort of thing that could send a man staggering backward with its weight. He knew. He had felt it.

  “Since the day before you went to school until,” she shrugged, “this morning.”

  James sat open-mouthed for a moment before asking, “I was so terrible that you could not tell me about a friend who tried to seduce you?”

  “You wagered away my horse.”

  Oh, that had to have hurt. Robert kept his eyes forward and rode silently, attempting not to make even a small interference between brother and sister.

  James blew out a great breath. “I see your point, and I cannot apologize enough.”

  “I know,” Miss Atwood said softly.

  The two Atwoods joined Robert in riding in silence for a time.

  That Robert had been allowed to be a part of such a discussion between sister and brother was no small thing. He knew how often, when broached in company, things which were of a delicate nature were met with a look which said “Not here. Not now.” Therefore, to be allowed to be privy to the conversation Miss Atwood and her brother had just had, proved to him more than words ever could that he was indeed thought of as a very close friend.

  “Were we expecting callers?” Miss Atwood asked her brother as they came up to the stables.

  A fine coach could just be seen standing on the drive before the house.

  “No, we were not,” James replied. “Shall we ride to the house and send the horses to the stables from there?”

  It was agreed that such a plan was best, and after a groom had been informed, the three of them proceeded to the house.

  A well-dressed lady in a sophisticated looking red carriage dress was just being helped from her carriage as Robert swung down from his horse.

  “Aunt Edith?” James approached the lady who was now standing in front of the house. “I did not know to expect you.”

  “Did your father not tell you that I was arriving?”

  “Father died,” Miss Atwood said.

  Aunt Edith looked from one Atwood sibling to another. “Died? That cannot be.”

  “It has not yet been a week since he left us,” James explained. “A letter was sent.”

  “I was not at home.” Aunt Edith was not looking well.

  “Come inside.” Miss Atwood took her aunt by the arm and helped her up the steps to the door. “We were just about to have tea.”

  “I was at a friend’s estate, discussing the particulars of a gently bred young lady’s introduction to society. I knew he was not well when he wrote to me regarding you, Adela, but he is truly gone?”

  “Yes, Aunt, he is.”

  “My brother is gone?”

  “I am sorry to say he is,” James answered.

  “Oh, well, that is a shock, is it not?” Aunt Edith took a seat in the chair to which she had been led. “Quite a shock.” She pulled a handkerchief from her reticule and dabbed at her eyes.

  “Are you well?” Robert barely caught the soft whisper between niece and aunt.

  “I am uncertain, but it does make my arrival timely.”

  “How so?” James settled into a chair near his aunt.

  “I am here to collect Adela as your father requested.”

  “Collect me?”

  Apparently, Miss Atwood had no idea she was in need of collecting.

  “Yes, your father wished for you to have a season, and so he thought it best if I were to introduce you at a few house parties this summer and then make certain you are prepared for your debut next season. I would take you to town now, but the season is half over and there is so much I do not know about your training.”

  The lady continued to dab at her eyes while attempting to not appear affected by the news of her brother’s death. She must be one of those who frowned upon displays of emotion.

  “I cannot go with you.”

  “It is not a matter of if you can, my dear. You are to go with me. I have it in a letter from Mr. Fulton with your father’s signature. The monies necessary for your dresses and such have already been transferred to my husband’s account. He would have journeyed with me, but I was going to visit Blanche, you see.”

  Robert shifted on the couch where he sat.

  “Aunt Edith,” James Atwood said, “this is Mr. Eldridge. Mr. Eldridge, this is my aunt Mrs. Edith Bellingham. She was my father’s sister.”

  “Mr. Eldridge?” Aunt Edith looked at him skeptically. “I have not heard of you before.”

  “Mr. Eldridge is a recent addition to our circle of intimates,” James replied.

  “Indeed? He must be very well acquainted with you if you allow your sister to dress as she is in his presence.” There was no mistaking the censure in Mrs. Bellingham’s tone.

  “Father would not have an issue with how Addie is dressed for training a horse,” James said.

  “Yes, well, your father knew how I felt about what he allowed your sister to do.”

  So, it seemed Mrs. Bellingham was not the sort to keep her displeasure to herself.

  “And we are very well acquainted.” Miss Atwood’s cheeks were a brilliant red, and she pulled at the sleeves of her jacket. “Are we not, Robert?”

  Robert attempted to keep his expression from showing his surprise and pleasure at hearing her use his Christian name. “Yes, very well acquainted.”

  He could not quite read Miss Atwood’s expression, but there seemed to be some desperation in it.

  “It is not to be made known abroad,” she said with a small smile for him. “What with Father falling ill and then…” She paused. Her throat moved up and down. No doubt she was attempting to contain her emotions. “And then, with Father’s death, things could not be announced as they should have been.”

  “I am not certain I follow,” Mrs. Bellingham said.

  Robert was in agreement about that. He also was not certain he understood what Miss Atwood was attempting to say.

  “I do not need to be presented to society.”

  Mi
ss Atwood sent him another look of desperation. If only he could piece the puzzle together to help her.

  “Of course, you do my dear,” her aunt protested. “After a time of mourning, as is proper, you must find a husband.”

  “I have no need to find a husband.”

  “Do not be foolish, child. We all need husbands. James is not going to house you forever.”

  “He does not have to.” Miss Atwood looked directly at Robert, her eyes pleading with him to help her.

  Oh! Now, he understood what she was trying to imply. Or, at least, he hoped he did, for he was willing to give her whatever assistance she needed, even to the extent he thought she was implying.

  “You cannot live on your own. It is unseemly.” Mrs. Bellingham’s brows rose. “However, seeing how you are currently dressed and knowing how your father allowed you to behave makes me wonder if you know what unseemly is.”

  There was that distinct note of censure in the woman’s voice again.

  “She will not be living on her own,” Robert inserted. “She will be my wife.” He held Miss Atwood’s gaze as he made the announcement. Thankfully, it appeared he had understood her, and his declaration was met with a pleased smile.

  He was betrothed. Wouldn’t that come as a surprise to his sister and Tom? It would likely be nearly as much of a surprise to them as it was to him. However, since they had both suggested to him that he should consider Miss Atwood, he had no doubt as to their joy at such news. In fact, he suspected that they would be as delighted by this startling development as he was.

  Chapter 11

  Did she dare to nod her assurance to her startled brother while her aunt sought for words? Addie thought not. It would not do for Aunt Edith to think there was anything which smacked of scheming taking place. Aunt Edith had no tolerance whatsoever for scheming. Indeed, she had little tolerance for anything that might involve enjoyment, for to Aunt Edith, duty and responsibility were paramount to anything else. Proper decorum and an appearance that all was well – even when it most certainly was not – were prized.

  How could a sister, who claimed in properly understated terms to love her brother, hear the news of that brother’s death and not faint dead away and dissolve into a puddle of tears? To Addie, Aunt Edith’s always calm and controlled demeanor was not natural. Not that Aunt Edith was always calm.