he’d planned for himself.
James watched while George calculated his next shot. ‘Why isn’t your little Artemis already married?’
‘Says she’s not interested.’
‘A woman not interested in marriage? Next you’ll tell me you believe in mermaids.’
‘I do. I saw one off the coast of Florida once. She’s not interested in marriage. However, a man with an estate could change her mind. If you’re determined to buy Cable Grange, she’s the woman you need to run it.’ George took his time lining up his shot, looking quite proud of himself for what he considered a brilliant idea.
James couldn’t resist the opportunity to rib his old friend. ‘So your niece is only interested in marrying a man for his estate?’
George whiffed the cue ball then straightened up, indignant. ‘She’s not that kind of young lady. She’s clever, a real woman of substance, made running Knollwood her life, but the place isn’t hers. Charles plans to assume control when he comes home at the end of the month. Where will she be then?’
‘You could leave her Creedon Abbey.’
‘I probably will...’ George floundered. Clearly he hadn’t thought of this and James enjoyed watching the older man work to recover himself. ‘But I’m not at death’s door yet. I plan to live at least another twenty years. Spend some time with her, get to know her, you’ll see what I mean.’
James walked to the window, noticing the threatening clouds gathering overhead. Their darkness layered the hills with damp shadows, making the hour feel late. Somewhere across the hills and valleys sat Cable Grange. Watching the wind shake the tall hedges of the garden, he tried to picture himself as lord of the manor, spending his days in land management with all its hundreds of concerns, but he had trouble imagining it.
Reaching up under his jacket, he felt for the jagged, raised scar. Yes, he was lucky to be alive and sometimes it made him think he wanted a wife and a family. What would it be like to enjoy the kind of happiness he’d witnessed between his parents before his father died or the love he saw in his sister’s eyes when she walked with her husband? He’d tried so many times while convalescing to imagine the future, but always it remained shrouded in a grey fog of uncertainty. The sudden end to his naval career made the years before him seem meaningless while old wounds and betrayals arose from the past to dominate his mind.
A bolt of lightning split the distant horizon and the image of Miss Howard atop that beast of a horse commanding him like a common seaman seared his mind. Tight desire coursed through him at the memory of her tongue tracing the line of her lips and the curious need illuminating her face. Her free spirit and courage reminded him of Caribbean ladies, bringing a smile to his face at the memory of warm afternoons and even warmer nights in the islands. Those days seemed like a lifetime ago yet today, in Miss Howard’s presence, their carefree ease sparked deep inside him for the first time in over a year.
The feeling made him uneasy. He’d experienced something like it once before, allowing it to guide him, and he’d come to regret it.
He downed the last of the brandy, forcing back the encroaching sadness. He wasn’t ready for another life-altering change and certainly had no intention of courting Miss Howard.
As James examined the cut-crystal glass, an idea suddenly came to him, so simple yet brilliantly amusing. George was determined to meddle with yet another scheme. Why not catch him up in one of James’s devising, give him a friendly taste of his own medicine?
‘Perhaps you’re right. I should give more thought to the idea of marriage,’ James announced, strolling back to the table and scrutinising the position of the balls.
George’s smile broadened. ‘Indeed.’
‘A man needs a woman to make a comfortable home for him.’
‘One with a sense of how to run things properly.’
‘The perfect mistress to complement him.’
‘Exactly.’
‘A woman like Miss Taylor.’
‘Annette?’ George sputtered. ‘You must be joking.’
‘I’m quite serious. She’s well brought up and pleasing to view.’ James leaned over the table to take a shot, pretending not to notice George’s stunned expression.
‘But there’s nothing there, no substance.’
‘Good. It makes life less complicated.’ James hit the cue ball, sending it bouncing off the side to hit the red ball. Straightening up, he worked to contain his laughter as George stared slack jawed at him.
‘Annette?’
James smiled to himself, realising just how much fun this harmless revenge would be.
Chapter Four
The clock in the hallway chimed six times as Julia rushed across the marble floor, late for dinner again. Stopping outside the dining-room door, she ran her hands over her hair, tucking a loose tendril into her coiffure. Mary, her lady’s maid, had been too busy with Annette to arrange Julia’s hair so she’d done it herself, pulling it back into a more flattering bun and allowing a few curls to hang about her face. The coiffure was far from stylish, but it framed her features much better than Emily’s plain creation. Pulling the bodice of the light-blue muslin dress lower, she hitched up the pink sash in an effort to make it appear more fashionable. The ribbon refused to co-operate, slipping back down to her waist. With a sigh of frustration, she gave up, knowing she’d dressed as well as could be expected for dinner at Knollwood, which was never a formal affair.
Until tonight. The instant Julia stepped into the dining room she remembered Emily’s instructions to dress for their new guest. She’d been so distracted by planning her tactics with Simon, she’d completely forgotten.
‘I’m so glad you could join us. I was afraid Knollwood business would keep you away.’ Emily’s high, nervous voice pulled Julia out of her momentary shock and she took in everyone’s attire. Mother’s deep-maroon mantua, though of an older style, suited her matronly frame while Emily and Annette’s dresses were the height of London fashion. Simon wore a coat of the finest material and Uncle George and Captain Covington looked dashing in their uniforms. Plain muslin in the face of so much silk only emphasised her lack of fashion. For a moment, Julia contemplated making her excuses, feigning a headache or some other feminine nonsense, then changed her mind.
I’ve already made a fool of myself. No sense starving now. Throwing back her shoulders, she strode into the room.
‘Yes, Knollwood business can be quite exacting, but I wouldn’t dream of missing dinner.’ She took her place next to Simon, across from Annette and Captain Covington.
‘You look very lovely this evening,’ the captain offered across the table.
‘Thank you.’ Was he teasing her? It was difficult to tell. His beguiling smile reminded her of the one Paul always used to flatter pretty ladies at the assembly hall.
‘The affairs of Knollwood must be very demanding to make you lose track of time,’ Annette mocked.
‘No, I was quite aware of the time,’
