she stepped out of the shadows.
‘Rose! What in heaven’s name—!’
Magnus came hurrying towards her, his breath clouding on the frosty air.
Quickly she moved to meet him.
‘I…I dropped my fan…’ She waved her hand, implying that it had skittered into the darkness. A quick peep showed her that the alcove was empty.
‘Well, never mind that now, let us get you home and out of this cold.’
He guided her to the carriage and she climbed in be side her mother.
‘Goodness, you are shivering,’ declared Mrs Molland. ‘You should have left your fan, my love. We could have walked up and retrieved it in the morning.’
‘Well, well, no harm done,’ declared Althea, her hands tucked snugly inside her swansdown muff. ‘Tell Lewis to drive on, Magnus. The sooner we have dropped Rose and Mrs Molland at Bluebell Cottage, the sooner we can be home.’
Magnus jumped into the carriage and almost fell into his seat as they pulled away, the lamps of the inn yard momentarily lighting up the carriage.
‘My dear, whatever have you done to your corsage?’
Magnus’s cry caused Rose to glance down. Her cloak had fallen open to reveal the neckline of her gown and on her shoulder were the sorry-looking remains of the three camellias, crushed flat against her gown.
Magnus was muttering about the inordinate cost of obtaining such delicate flowers and guiltily Rose pulled her cloak together to hide the damage.
‘Oh, my,’ giggled Althea. ‘They look well and truly ravished!’
Rose sank her teeth into her bottom lip and stared miserably out into the night.
Ravished was exactly how she felt.
Chapter Five
F rom the deepest shadows Lawrence watched the Emsleigh carriage drive away, the horses’ hooves ringing on the cobbles. Hell and damnation, he should never have come here tonight. He thought savagely that if George Craven had not been in such a fix he would never have come back to Exmoor at all.
Craven had come to him in London, when Lawrence was enjoying a solitary dinner at White’s.
‘Daunton, my friend. I have been looking for you all over.’
‘Good evening, George. Come and join me,’ Lawrence greeted him with the wave of his fork.
‘Heard you were in town,’ said Craven, sitting down at the table, ‘but you have not shown your face in any of your usual haunts.’
‘Turned over a new leaf, George.’
‘Aye, so it would appear.’ Craven grinned. ‘The ladies are bemoaning the absence of Rake Daunton from theirdrawing rooms. What have you been doing with yourself in town?’
‘Visiting my man of business.’
‘Dull work!’
‘Aye, but necessary. I spent the spring touring my estates in Surrey, and I have been in Hampshire for the past month, at Daunton, putting everything in order. Hadn’t realised just how run-down the place had become. Once my business here is ended then I shall be going back. I dare say I shall make my home there.’ He shot a sideways glance at his friend. ‘Does it surprise you, George, that I can give up town life so easily?’
His friend shook his head.
‘I always thought you would, one day.’
‘The devil you did!’
‘You forget, Lawrence, we’ve known each other for ever. You always loved Daunton, but you began to avoid it when it became linked with marriage to my late, lovely, lamented sister. Never could quite bring yourself to make that final commitment, could you, Lawrence?’
‘Damn you, George, you know I always intended to go back.’ He pushed his plate away, his appetite gone. ‘We agreed we would wed when she was one and twenty, not before. But if she had only said the word I would have come back—’
‘No need to blame yourself, old friend. Belle wanted the marriage even less than you.’ He met Lawrence’s amazed gaze with a rueful smile. ‘I never thought much of it at the time, but she said to me once that she thought she would have liked to be a nun and dedicate her life to good works.’
‘Well, if you think of the way she
‘Rose! What in heaven’s name—!’
Magnus came hurrying towards her, his breath clouding on the frosty air.
Quickly she moved to meet him.
‘I…I dropped my fan…’ She waved her hand, implying that it had skittered into the darkness. A quick peep showed her that the alcove was empty.
‘Well, never mind that now, let us get you home and out of this cold.’
He guided her to the carriage and she climbed in be side her mother.
‘Goodness, you are shivering,’ declared Mrs Molland. ‘You should have left your fan, my love. We could have walked up and retrieved it in the morning.’
‘Well, well, no harm done,’ declared Althea, her hands tucked snugly inside her swansdown muff. ‘Tell Lewis to drive on, Magnus. The sooner we have dropped Rose and Mrs Molland at Bluebell Cottage, the sooner we can be home.’
Magnus jumped into the carriage and almost fell into his seat as they pulled away, the lamps of the inn yard momentarily lighting up the carriage.
‘My dear, whatever have you done to your corsage?’
Magnus’s cry caused Rose to glance down. Her cloak had fallen open to reveal the neckline of her gown and on her shoulder were the sorry-looking remains of the three camellias, crushed flat against her gown.
Magnus was muttering about the inordinate cost of obtaining such delicate flowers and guiltily Rose pulled her cloak together to hide the damage.
‘Oh, my,’ giggled Althea. ‘They look well and truly ravished!’
Rose sank her teeth into her bottom lip and stared miserably out into the night.
Ravished was exactly how she felt.
Chapter Five
F rom the deepest shadows Lawrence watched the Emsleigh carriage drive away, the horses’ hooves ringing on the cobbles. Hell and damnation, he should never have come here tonight. He thought savagely that if George Craven had not been in such a fix he would never have come back to Exmoor at all.
Craven had come to him in London, when Lawrence was enjoying a solitary dinner at White’s.
‘Daunton, my friend. I have been looking for you all over.’
‘Good evening, George. Come and join me,’ Lawrence greeted him with the wave of his fork.
‘Heard you were in town,’ said Craven, sitting down at the table, ‘but you have not shown your face in any of your usual haunts.’
‘Turned over a new leaf, George.’
‘Aye, so it would appear.’ Craven grinned. ‘The ladies are bemoaning the absence of Rake Daunton from theirdrawing rooms. What have you been doing with yourself in town?’
‘Visiting my man of business.’
‘Dull work!’
‘Aye, but necessary. I spent the spring touring my estates in Surrey, and I have been in Hampshire for the past month, at Daunton, putting everything in order. Hadn’t realised just how run-down the place had become. Once my business here is ended then I shall be going back. I dare say I shall make my home there.’ He shot a sideways glance at his friend. ‘Does it surprise you, George, that I can give up town life so easily?’
His friend shook his head.
‘I always thought you would, one day.’
‘The devil you did!’
‘You forget, Lawrence, we’ve known each other for ever. You always loved Daunton, but you began to avoid it when it became linked with marriage to my late, lovely, lamented sister. Never could quite bring yourself to make that final commitment, could you, Lawrence?’
‘Damn you, George, you know I always intended to go back.’ He pushed his plate away, his appetite gone. ‘We agreed we would wed when she was one and twenty, not before. But if she had only said the word I would have come back—’
‘No need to blame yourself, old friend. Belle wanted the marriage even less than you.’ He met Lawrence’s amazed gaze with a rueful smile. ‘I never thought much of it at the time, but she said to me once that she thought she would have liked to be a nun and dedicate her life to good works.’
‘Well, if you think of the way she
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