leap in her chest in a ridiculous way. ‘Oh! It’s you! You are the man I met at the inn the other day. Are you the Earl of Ashurst?’
Momentarily stunned, William continued to stare at her. His blood stirred as she came into the light thrown by the sun through the leaded windows. The young woman was a beauty, her hat dangling by its ribbons from her fingers, a riding crop in her other hand. The rich vibrancy of her chestnut curls framed a heart-shaped face and the green eyes beneath long dark lashes that had caught his attention previously held his gaze now. She had a healthy and unblemished beauty that radiated a striking personal confidence. There was about her a kind of warm sensuality, something instantly suggestive to him of pleasurable fulfilment. It was something she could not help, something that was an inherent part of her.
‘I am Lord Ashurst, the Earl of Ashurst.’
On discovering the identity of her hoped-to-be husband and recalling their contentious previous encounter, she remembered that as she had walked away from him he had made a strong impression on her. And now here he was and the irony of it was that if her grandmother had her way then he was about to become betrothed to her sister.
Her momentary shock gave way to a cold anger. ‘Had I known who you are I would not have come here. You were very rude to me.’
His mouth curled into a thin smile. ‘After spending my entire adult life as a soldier, Miss Ingram, I’m afraid I shall have to relearn the art of gallantry. But as a matter of fact, I agree with you. My behaviour towards you was unmannerly. Believe me when I tell you that my conscience smote me and I wanted to do the right thing and apologise to you properly, but when I looked for you, you had left. Can I offer you refreshment?’
‘No, thank you. I have not come here to make polite conversation, but on a matter of the utmost importance. I realise you are a busy man so I will be brief and take up as little of your time as possible.’
He lifted an eyebrow. Tilting his head to one side, he gave her his whole attention. ‘What brings you here with such urgency?’
There was something in the depths of his eyes that Rosa could not fathom. Blue and narrowed by a knowing, intrusive smile, they seemed to look right past her face and into herself. For that split second she felt completely exposed and vulnerable—traits unfamiliar to her, traits she did not like. His direct, masculine assurance disconcerted her. She was vividly conscious that they were alone. She felt the mad, unfamiliar rush of blood singing through her veins, which she had never experienced before—not even with Simon. Instantly she felt resentful towards the Earl of Ashurst. He had made too much of an impact on her.
‘I am Rosalind Ingram—everyone calls me Rosa. I have come to speak to you about my sister, Clarissa. I don’t quite know how to begin. I have never done this sort of thing before, you see, and...my grandmother knows nothing of this visit. When she does I will feel the full force of her displeasure, but it will be worth it if you agree to what I propose. I have come to ask your help. I realise it is very presumptuous of me, and of course you are quite free to refuse, but the matter is urgent.’
‘Is there no one else who can help you?’
‘No—I’m afraid not. If I had...’
‘Because of what transpired between us on our first encounter you certainly would not have come to me.’
‘No, that’s not right. I’m afraid you are the only person I can ask to help.’
A muscle twitched in his cheek and his light blue eyes rested on her ironically. ‘My curiosity is aroused as to why you have come here without your grandmother’s knowledge to visit a man you don’t even know.’
Crossing to the fireplace, he draped his arm across the mantel and turned, regarding his visitor with a cool and speculative gaze. He could not help but admire the way she looked. Her overall appearance was flawless and he was quickly coming to the conclusion that she would set the standard by which all other women have to be judged, at least in his mind.
Her hair had been arranged artfully about her head and several feathery curls brushed her cheeks, lending a charming softness to her skin. The appeal in her large, silkily lashed green eyes was so strong that he had to mentally shake himself free of their spell. Something stirred within him that he was at a loss to identify.
‘I am intrigued. Please—sit down,’ he said, indicating a chair placed at an angle in front of the fireplace. ‘Now, tell me, what can I do for you?’
Now she knew the identity of the Earl of Ashurst, Rosa’s regret at coming to Ashurst Park increased a thousandfold as she perched stiffly on the edge of the comfortably upholstered chair. Never had she felt so unsure of herself.
‘So, Clarissa is your sister. I thought there must be some connection. She is well, I hope?’
‘She is perfectly well—only...’
He waited a moment, studying her with those strongly arched eyebrows slightly raised. When she wasn’t forthcoming he prompted, ‘Only? Only what?’
‘She—she does not want to marry you and I recognise that I must lend her all my support.’
‘I see. Do you mind telling me why?’
‘Because she’s in love with someone else.’ Apart from a tightening to his jaw, his expression remained unchanged.
‘Then that is as good a reason as any. Why was I not told this earlier—and why has your grandmother not thought to inform me?’
‘I’m sorry. She was following my father’s wishes in arranging Clarissa to marry a man with a title. Clarissa has never defied our father, sir. She loved him dearly and understands perfectly why it was so important to him that we both make suitable marriages.’
‘And you have ridden all this way to tell me this?’
‘Yes. I—I thought you should know.’
‘Thank you. I appreciate your thoughtfulness. However, nothing has been signed so there is nothing to bind us.’
‘You—will not pursue her?’
‘No, Miss Ingram, I would not do that. To force the issue when she is in love with another man would make her loathe me.’
‘If you discerned anything in her manner when you met in London—which, she has told me, was brief—you would know that she does not loathe you. Clarissa is the most gentle person you could wish to meet.’
‘That is the impression she gave me,’ he said, remembering that when he had met Clarissa Ingram how he had admired her refinement of character, her charm and sensibility—in fact, there was nothing about her with which he could find fault and he could not deny that he had been tempted by her grandmother’s proposition that she become his wife. But that had been in London.
As a soldier, he listened to his head and not his heart in all things. Nothing in his life was accidental or unplanned and everything was carefully thought out.
He’d agreed to consider his lawyer’s suggestion that he marry a wealthy woman, which would enable him to retain Ashurst Park, but his abhorrence to doing such a thing was as strong as ever. Miss Rosa Ingram’s revelation had come as something of a surprise to him and also a relief that he would not have to do battle with his conscience.
‘However,
