She had finally admitted the truth to him. And it had, after all, been easy. She felt as if a great load had been lifted from her shoulders. He knew. She had told him.
She had also told him that she did not wish him to go away. She had had a chance to be rid of him. She did not think he would have gone back on his promise to leave the next day if she had said that she wanted him to go. But she had deliberately given up her chance to be rid of him.
She shivered and huddled further inside the cloak. She had said that she would try to allow a friendship to grow between them again. Was it possible? Could they ever be just friends when there had been that other between them? When their child was in her womb?
And did she really want his friendship? Could they be friends and be comfortable and contented again, and Charlie not there to share the friendship with them? Didn’t she need to punish herself for the rest of her life for the way in which she had betrayed Charlie with his friend?
Was that what she was doing? Was she punishing herself? But she had forgiven herself and Dominic long ago. Hadn’t she? Or had he been right a few hours ago when he had said that the wounds of Waterloo ran a great deal deeper than any of the survivors realized?
If it were not for the guilt, would she still love Dominic? Beneath the guilt, had she stopped loving him?
But no. She did not love him. She must not love him. He wanted to know their child. He wanted to see it as it grew. That was perfectly understandable, and she knew she would not be able to deny him that right. She must not complicate matters by falling in love with him again. That would be far too painful for her, and embarrassing too if he ever suspected.
He wanted them to be friends. And it was desirable that they be so. She wanted it to be so. She would try. For three weeks she would try to let friendship grow and other feelings remain dead.
She shivered again as she heard more than one set of quiet footsteps pass her room. She was not the only person mad enough to be still up, then. But she must get to bed and to sleep if she was to be fit to ride in the morning. Besides, she was half-frozen.
He had kissed her. And she had not been outraged. She had felt enormously comforted by the brief touch of his lips.
A mad thought. One very definitely not to be repeated.
Chapter 20
ALL THE ADULTS OF THE HOUSE, EXCEPT THE dowager countess and Allan Penworth, joined the ride the following morning. Anna and Walter and Lord Agerton rode over to join them, as did Susan and two of her brothers. They were to ride inland up the valley in which Amberley Court was set.
It was a very good thing that they were to ride in a place where it would be impossible for the horses to move faster than a walk, Susan said timidly to anyone who was willing to listen. She was so very afraid to gallop, and she knew that she spoiled the enjoyment of her companions when she held them to a walk.
Lord Agerton declared that he would stay at the back of the group with her, and she could move at whatever pace she found comfortable.
“You are very obliging, my lord, I am sure,” she said, favoring him with a look of melting gratitude from wide hazel eyes.
They rode out, two abreast, past the formal gardens, across the stone bridge that spanned the stream, and turned up the valley, the sounds of the horses’ hooves muted by the masses of fallen and rotting leaves underfoot.
“There is always a very special smell about autumn,” the earl said to Ellen, with whom he rode. “I suppose it should be unpleasant, since it is largely the smell of decay, but it is not.”
“It is a very English smell,” she said. “I had forgotten it. It is strange how smells can bring back vivid memories. My father used to take me walking in the parks when I was a child. We would always walk on the grass during the autumn so that we could crunch leaves underfoot. They were happy times.”
“Are you glad to be back in England?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said. “I do not regret my ten years as a wanderer, because I learned a great deal about life that I might not otherwise know. And I had my husband for five years. I was happy. He was all the home I needed during those years. Besides, it is foolish to regret anything from one’s past. Everything that happens helps to shape us into the people we are. But I am glad to be home again. I would not wish to settle permanently in any other country.”
“But you are quite right,” he said. “People are really home, are they not? I have always been greatly attached to Amberley Court. If anyone were to take it away from me, I think I would die a little inside. But if ever I had to make the choice between this place and my wife and babies-well, there would be no choice at all.”
Lord Eden had Anna prattling at his side, telling him all about the triumphs of her Season during the spring, reminding him of her disappointment that he had not been there to see her or escort her at all, confiding her hope that her father would take her again the following spring.
“Then you can come too, Dominic,” she said, “and lead me into the first set of the first ball of my second Season.”
“I probably would not be able to fight my way past all the young bucks clustered about you, Anna,” he said.
“Oh, but I would send them all away,” she said, “so that you could sign my card first. For two sets. I wonder who it was who made the foolish rule that one can dance only twice with the same gentleman in the same evening. Don’t you think it silly, Dominic?”
“It depends on how badly I want to dance with one particular lady,” he said.
He was watching Ellen riding ahead of them with his brother. They were doing a great deal of talking and smiling. There was a certain satisfaction in knowing that she and Edmund and Alexandra got along well together. She looked happy this morning, and very lovely in her black velvet riding habit. It brought back vivid memories to see her on horseback.
They rode along a valley that was beautiful despite the bareness of the trees. The stream flowed past them on its way to the sea. The tree-covered slopes grew steeper as they proceeded, and the valley floor narrower.
Lord Amberley stopped when they had ridden for more than a mile. “There is a magnificent view back along the valley to Amberley and the sea from the top of this slope,” he said to Ellen and the riders behind them. “It is rather a steep climb, I’m afraid, and has to be done on foot, but it is well worth the effort. Is anyone feeling energetic?”
It seemed that everyone was. They all dismounted, the gentlemen tethering the horses to the trees. Lord Eden turned to find Ellen. He wanted to be with her when she saw the view.
“Oh, dear,” Susan said at his elbow, while Lord Agerton was still busy with her horse, “I think I had better stay here, my lord. Climbing up might be possible, but I know I would be terrified to come down again. I have no head for heights. I shall be quite all right down here. I shall take a turn along the bank of the stream and back.”
“What, Susan?” Lord Eden said with a grin. “You can never be so chickenhearted. You, who used to climb trees in pursuit of trapped kittens?”
“But I always used to get stuck,” she said. “And someone had to come to my rescue.”
“I have a sturdy arm,” he said. “Will you trust it to keep you from falling? I will not let you slip, I promise.”
“Oh, thank you,” she said. “You are very kind.”
Anna and Jennifer, Walter and Miles Courtney were having a race to the top of the slope, with a great deal of crashing through the trees and shouting and shrieking. The others ascended somewhat more sedately. Susan hung heavily on Lord Eden’s arm and forced him to frequent stops, with the result that they were soon far behind the rest.
“I am spoiling your enjoyment,” she said.
“Not at all.” He smiled down at her. “You were always such a timid little thing, Susan. How is it that you could survive a life of following the drum for three whole years?”