Part 43 (1/2)
”I'd prefer banns,” she said. ”I want to declare our love before our congregations.”
”A license would be faster.”
”Why haste? Bad enough that people here might guess we've antic.i.p.ated the wedding. I don't want my friends and family in London to think the same thing. And remember, my father marries in a week. Rus.h.i.+ng to the altar days before him would cause terrible talk.”
It seemed he might continue to press for a license, but then he shrugged. ”As you will.”
”What bothers you, David? Speak to me.”
”I don't want anything or anyone to come between us.”
She paused to touch his cheek. ”Nothing will, love. Nothing can. We're both of age, and with my money we are of independent means.” Careless of the fact that they could be seen, she drew his head down and kissed him. ”I think I owe you some kisses.”
”I know you wiped the slate clean not long ago.”
For some reason that made her blush, which made him laugh. He took her hand and led her on.
David felt more adrift than he ever had, tangled by dizzy love and glimpses of future heaven, but weighed down by sure knowledge of disaster in the wings.
He'd promised to reveal his secrets and meant it. There'd been reason to want to get dressed before a serious discussion, and also reason to bring Lucy to the manor as soon as possible. He knew he'd grasped the excuses, however, putting off the moment, as if something could happen to make it unnecessary to disturb her happiness.
She thought he'd merely played at smuggling when a lad, and been shocked by that. She had no idea that he was now leader of the smugglers, or that her father was trying to overrule her will and threatening retribution.
He took her to the front entrance to the manor, which was rarely used, the back being more convenient from the village. A little formality seemed in order for such a moment. The entrance had a modest portico and the short drive ended in enough s.p.a.ce for a carriage to turn, for the front of the manor faced a road of sorts, but he knew to Lucy it must seem a track.
”It's a pretty house,” she said, ”but not as large as I expected.”
”It was a farmhouse two hundred years ago and isn't much changed since. The Kerslakes are farming stock, but then, so are the Somerfords.
”I like the flowers everywhere.”
”Yes, the Crag and the manor are two different worlds.”
”Something can be done,” she said with blissful confidence.
Probably when he told her the whole situation, she'd have the same response.
I'm Captain Drake.
Something can be done.
Your father is determined we will not marry.
Something can be done.
No. Her father's interference was bound to upset her, so he'd keep that from her if he could.
He wanted to save her from all distress, but knew that was impossible. He could only strive to reduce the pain.
Lucy approached the door nervously, because David seemed tense. He'd said his family would be anxious to meet her, and that his aunt would demand a wedding if she realized their sin, but he hadn't said they'd approve of her.
The house didn't present a hostile front. The rose-surrounded door stood open and they simply walked into a paneled hall that smelled delightfully of lavender and potpourri. An old dog stood to amble over and greet David, who fondled its ears.
”We'll go through to the kitchen,” he said.
But then a pretty, brown-haired young woman appeared from the back of the house, wearing an ap.r.o.n over her dress. ”So there you are! We were about to go in search of you.” She was smiling brightly, especially at Lucy, but her expression was full of curiosity.
”Lucy, I present my cousin, Amelia Kerslake. Amelia, this is Miss Lucy Potter.”
”We guessed as much,” Amelia said to Lucy, ”when word spread that a lady had arrived for David.”
To Lucy that sounded as if she were a parcel, but Amelia Kerslake showed no sign of coldness.
”Mama will be here in a moment,” she said. ”She felt the need to put off her ap.r.o.n and straighten her cap to greet David's bride. I suppose I should, too. Take off my ap.r.o.n, I mean.” She began to untie the strings.
”Amy!” protested an older, plumper woman, joining them, cheeks flushed. ”Don't run on so.” But she, too, was beaming as she took Lucy's hands. ”How lovely to meet you, my dear. I hope your journey here went smoothly. Come into the parlor and we'll have tea.”
”Thank you,” said Lucy, unable to stop smiling herself. ”No one has thus far offered me refreshment.”
”Davy!” his aunt exclaimed. ”What have you been up to all this time?”
Perhaps David blushed. ”A tour of the Crag.”
”Which does have a kitchen.”
”Aunt Miriam, Lucy Potter. Lucy, my aunt, Lady Kerslake.”
”Away with you!” his aunt protested, laughing. ”I'll be your aunt Miriam, too, dear.”
Lucy wasn't sure if that was a statement or prediction but she shed any idea of being unwelcome.
”I wonder you dared,” Amelia said to David as they all crossed to a room. She added to Lucy, ”I've been telling and telling him that no woman will marry him unless he does improvements there. Isn't it horrid?”
”Horrid enough for a novel,” Lucy agreed.
”Oh, do you read novels, too? I adore them. But I still wouldn't want to live in the Crag.”
”Not even for love?”
”Oh, for that, of course. And you have money, so you can change it.”
”Amelia,” said her mother, sitting down in an upholstered chair.
”It's true.”
”Go and supervise the tea,” Aunt Miriam said, gesturing Lucy toward a small sofa. ”Sit down, dear. I must apologize for my husband, but he's away on business. He won't be back until tomorrow.”
”A good thing,” David said, sitting beside Lucy, making them so obviously a couple. ”Best to take you all in measured doses.”