The Lady Confesses

chapter Eight

‘Are you all right?’ Nathaniel looked down at her frowningly as he saw how pale her face had become, her eyes wide and darkly shadowed, both those things reminding him all too forcibly that, for all she gave the impression of self-reliance, she was in fact a very young lady employed by his aunt. And in his annoyance with Rufus Tennant’s persistent interest in her, Nathaniel had related something that Elizabeth obviously found extremely shocking.

Annoyance…?

Was it just annoyance Nathaniel felt at Tennant’s persistence, or could it be some other emotion? Something much more ugly? Such as resentment at the other man’s interest in her?

Surely not? Resentment would seem to imply jealousy of a sort, and jealousy was an irrational emotion; Nathaniel was not an irrational man. Decisive, even arrogant, but he did not believe he was ever irrational.

He was attracted to Elizabeth certainly, but surely no more so than he had found himself attracted to dozens of other women over the years. Attractions that had invariably been successful in their outcome…

Something that certainly could not be said of his current attraction towards the elusive, even slightly mysterious, Elizabeth Thompson. Was that perhaps the real reason for his current irritation? It was certainly a more agreeable explanation than his previous one had been!

Elizabeth still felt dazed, knowing that her more-than-obvious reaction to Lord Thorne’s disclosure of the scandal involving Sir Rufus’s brother must seem strange—and the very last thing she wished to do was arouse the earl’s suspicions as to her personal interest in that subject.

No, if she wished to know any more of it, to confirm if her suspicions were true or not, then she must talk to Sir Rufus himself.

‘I—I believe we have walked far enough for one afternoon, my lord.’ She gave a tight smile as she tugged lightly on Hector’s lead so that she might turn back towards Hepworth Manor.

Nathaniel fell into step beside her. ‘I apologise,’ he said. ‘I have obviously upset you by speaking of the scandal involving Tennant’s brother.’

‘But you did not speak of it,’ Elizabeth denied. ‘Not in any detail, at least,’ she added with a frown. ‘You did not reveal the name of his married lover, for example…’

‘Nor will I.’ His mouth was tight. ‘I should not have said the little that I did. It is not a suitable subject upon which to converse with you. What I said distressed you enough, Elizabeth.’

Elizabeth would be ever grateful that he had mentioned it at all. Especially if it should turn out that Giles Tennant had indeed been her mother’s young lover…

It at least gave her the opportunity to speak with Sir Rufus, a man who would likely know more of the past scandal that had resulted in her mother’s death—something that neither Elizabeth nor her sisters had so far been able to learn.

It had not occurred to any of the sisters to question their father too deeply when their mother first left them; they had all been too young and greatly traumatised by that desertion, and their father had been prostrate with grief. And later, once the three sisters were old enough to voice their curiosity about the past, their father had refused absolutely to discuss his wife, or the scandal surrounding her death, with any of them.

Of course, Sir Rufus could prove to be just as intractable on the subject of his brother’s demise, and, even if he was not, Elizabeth’s hopes might all be dashed if he were to reveal that his brother’s death had absolutely no connection to that of Harriet Copeland.

But until Elizabeth had the opportunity to speak with Sir Rufus again she had no way of knowing that. Which was why, once she had returned to Hepworth Manor, Elizabeth now had every intention of accepting Sir Rufus’s invitation to go out riding in his carriage with him.

‘I am merely tired, my lord, and not in the least upset by your conversation,’ she said to explain the abruptness of her decision to return to Hepworth Manor.

Nathaniel felt a sense of dissatisfaction with Elizabeth’s answer, aware there was something…different about her in these past few minutes. And she was correct; it was not distress that he now sensed in her emotions, but something else. Something he did not understand, which he found highly displeasing.

He eyed her closely from beneath the brim of his hat. ‘Perhaps you should have followed my aunt’s example and rested in your room instead of coming outside for a walk.’

‘Perhaps,’ she echoed evasively.

Nathaniel’s frustration increased. ‘It is my intention to call upon Viscount Rutledge tomorrow.’

‘An excellent idea.’ Elizabeth nodded coolly. ‘I am sure Miss Rutledge will think so too,’ she added mockingly.

His mouth firmed at her obvious taunting. ‘Perhaps you would care to come with me?’

‘And cast a shadow over Miss Rutledge’s pleasure in seeing you again?’ She shook her head.

‘I was thinking more along the lines that Rutledge might be pleased at a visit from you,’ Nathaniel said satirically.

‘Of course…’ She appeared to give the matter some thought as Hector lingered to investigate a rabbit hole. ‘No, I believe it would be better if you were to go alone, my lord. Besides,’ she continued firmly as Nathaniel would have spoken again, ‘I am really not at liberty to just disappear with you on a visit to one of Mrs Wilson’s neighbours.’

‘You are if I say that you—’ Nathaniel broke off with an annoyed growl. ‘Never mind.’ He scowled. ‘I believe I will leave you and Hector to finish the walk back at your leisure.’ He glanced down at the little dog as he continued to dig his way further into the rabbit hole. ‘I have some more correspondence to deal with before dinner.’

‘Have a care, my lord, or all this work may make you as dull as you believe Sir Rufus to be!’ Elizabeth jeered.

Nathaniel felt utterly frustrated as he returned that teasing gaze, knowing that he only intended shutting himself away in the relative privacy of the library at Hepworth Manor in order to prevent himself from doing something totally irresponsible—such as making love to Elizabeth again.

He raised a mocking eyebrow. ‘I do not believe there could possibly be another man alive as dull as he!’

Until a short time ago Elizabeth would have totally agreed with him. But if her suspicion as to his connection to her mother’s young lover should prove to be correct, Elizabeth knew she would then consider him the most interesting man of her acquaintance!


Not at all in the way that she found Nathaniel Thorne interesting, of course; the earl had awakened feelings inside her, hidden desires that she had so far been totally unable to rationalise. Or resist…

She gave a graceful shrug of her shoulders. ‘No doubt one person’s idea of dullness might be another’s idea of stability and steadfastness. Both of them desirable qualities, I am sure you will agree?’

‘I trust nothing I have said to you today has influenced you into feeling so much sympathy with Tennant that you are now reconsidering your refusal to go out riding in his carriage with him?’ The earl scowled down at her darkly.

Elizabeth deliberately kept her lashes demurely downcast. ‘Mrs Wilson was at pains earlier to point out that gentleman’s good qualities to me…’

‘You are reconsidering!’ Nathaniel could not keep the disbelief from his voice.

Limpid blue eyes looked up to meet his. ‘Perhaps.’

‘You are being ridiculous—’

‘I am?’

Nathaniel could not miss the slight inflection in her voice. Or the reason for it. He was the one behaving ridiculously. Especially when he still had no idea what to do about his own attraction to her. For many reasons—not least the disapproval of his Aunt Gertrude—setting Elizabeth up as his mistress would appear to be a non-starter.

‘Maybe if I were to recount the sad tale of my own parents having both drowned, during a sea voyage across the Atlantic when I was but seventeen years old, you might feel the same sympathy towards me!’ he muttered disgustedly.

‘And is that what happened?’ she asked gently.

He inclined his head. ‘It is.’

She looked pained. ‘That is indeed a tragedy…’

‘But not tragic enough to garner the same sympathy as Tennant, apparently,’ Nathaniel snorted.

‘You do have your Aunt Gertrude to support you, whereas Sir Rufus appears to have no one,’ she pointed out.

He frowned. ‘You are too soft-hearted by far.’

‘I am what I am, my lord.’

‘And being you, will no doubt do exactly as you wish!’

Elizabeth gave an impish smile. ‘That is exactly what I have been doing these past few weeks, yes.’

Nathaniel wished he had the same freedom of choice. But his responsibilities, to both his title and his estates, decreed that he did not. ‘In that case, if you will excuse me…’ He bowed to her before turning on his heel.

Elizabeth, watching him stride forcefully away from her, could not help but admire the width of his shoulders, his tapered waist and the long muscled legs encased smartly in black Hessians. The May sunshine seemed to turn his hair to a rich and burnished gold. A thick and silky gold that Elizabeth’s fingers itched to touch…

She gave a heavy sigh, knowing that her apparent change of interest in Sir Rufus Tennant had put yet another rift in her relationship with the earl. One that was for the best, perhaps—there was absolutely no future in the growing attraction she felt towards Nathaniel Thorne, either in her role as lady’s companion, or as Lady Elizabeth Copeland. The best that she could hope for was that they would not part as bad friends when the time came. She—

‘I had thought the man would never leave!’

Elizabeth had been too lost in those disturbing thoughts of Lord Thorne to notice the approach of the other man, but she turned sharply now to look up at Sir Rufus Tennant as he sat astride Starlight, the shadowing brim of his hat hiding the expression in his pale blue eyes, although his comment would appear to imply that he had been observing them for some minutes before approaching her. ‘How nice to see you again, Sir Rufus,’ Elizabeth spoke with a warmth that was forced rather than felt; it took only seconds in this man’s company to know that she found him no more pleasing despite the fact that he might hold the answer to some of the secrets of her mother’s past.

He slid smoothly down from the saddle to stand at her side as he removed his hat before bowing slightly. ‘I was riding over to Hepworth Manor in the hopes that I might speak with you.’ He replaced his hat upon his dark head.

And instead he had found Elizabeth out walking and in conversation with the Earl of Osbourne. A conversation Sir Rufus had deliberately chosen not to interrupt…? ‘I am sure Lord Thorne would have welcomed the opportunity to speak with you too.’

Sir Rufus gave a scathing snort. ‘I have no patience with rakes such as he!’

Elizabeth immediately felt herself bristle on the earl’s behalf; if he truly were the rake Sir Rufus described him as being, then surely he would have taken advantage of the opportunity of their being alone together just now in which to make further advances to her? The fact that he had not surely implied he could not be as disreputable as Sir Rufus—and she—had previously implied.

Nevertheless, Elizabeth was also aware that she would require Sir Rufus’s good will if she wished to ask the necessary questions of him, so she needed to tread carefully. ‘He is still very young, Sir Rufus,’ she said noncommittally.

He looked pleased by Elizabeth’s apparent dismissal of the good looks and charm of a man ten years his junior. ‘Would you care to continue walking along the cliff path with me?’

Considering she had minutes ago been walking in the other direction… ‘That would be lovely,’ Elizabeth accepted brightly. ‘But what of Starlight?’ She reached up to stroke the grey on his silky soft nose.

‘I will tether him to one of the trees for the time we are gone; he will come to no harm here.’ Sir Rufus suited his actions to his words before strolling along the pathway beside her. ‘I believe I owe you an apology, Miss Thompson,’ he spoke awkwardly, as if he were unaccustomed to admitting he was ever in the wrong. ‘I…spoke out of turn yesterday evening and sincerely apologise if I offended you.’

‘Think no more about it, Sir Rufus.’ Elizabeth’s smile was brittle.

‘I cannot help but think of it.’ He stopped to turn and gather one of her gloved hands into his. ‘I obviously disturbed you with my comments about Osbourne and the last thing I wish to do is upset you, Elizabeth,’ he added gruffly.

Elizabeth swallowed hard, not at all sure she was comfortable with having her hand held in Sir Rufus’s, let alone the almost feverish glitter she saw in those pale blue eyes as he looked down at her so avidly. ‘I admit I felt upset at the time, but I am not anymore,’ she said as she gently but firmly removed her hand from his.

‘I simply wanted to warn you of the possibility of Osbourne taking advantage of you—’

‘I believe it would be for the best if we did not speak on that subject again. I assure you, Lord Thorne is my employer’s nephew to me, and nothing more.’ She turned to continue walking along the pathway.

Sir Rufus fell into step beside her, not speaking for several minutes. ‘It is a beautiful day, is it not?’

The weather was certainly a safer subject for them to discuss than Nathaniel Thorne! ‘Beautiful,’ Elizabeth echoed distractedly; it was one thing to have decided she must speak with Sir Rufus at the earliest opportunity, quite another to suffer his almost possessive interest in her, let alone know how to broach such a personal subject as a brother he had never so much as mentioned to her.

‘Do you find you like Devonshire?’ Sir Rufus prompted politely.

‘It is very pretty.’

Sir Rufus nodded his satisfaction with her answer. ‘There is nowhere else quite like it.’

Elizabeth looked at him beneath lowered lashes. ‘And what of your family? Do they also prefer the simplicity of Devonshire to the rush and bustle of London?’

His expression settled into its usual austerity. ‘I have no family.’

Her eyed widened innocently. ‘Oh, but I was sure that Mrs Wilson mentioned your having a younger brother?’ Elizabeth’s heart was pounding so loudly in her chest at the lie that she was afraid Sir Rufus might actually hear it.

His jaw clenched. ‘I had a younger brother. He died some years ago.’

‘I did not mean to be insensitive.’ Elizabeth stopped on the pathway to place her gloved hand lightly on Sir Rufus’s arm, hoping that her sympathetic expression did not betray the inner frustration she felt with his having omitted to say exactly how many years it was since his brother had died.

A nerve pulsed in Sir Rufus’s cheek. ‘You could not have known,’ he accepted smoothly.

‘You have no other family?’

‘None to speak of, no.’

She nodded. ‘Your brother must have been very young when he died.’

His expression hardened. ‘I would prefer not to talk of it if you do not mind.’

Elizabeth minded very much, at the same time as she accepted that Sir Rufus did not know her well enough as yet to confide the intimate details of his family with her. Indeed, he did not appear to be the type of man who ever felt the need to confide in anyone, about anything.

‘Of course,’ she accepted lightly; after all, she did not at all wish to alert Sir Rufus as to the depth of her interest in his brother’s death—or her possible connection to the woman Giles Tennant might have killed. ‘I should not have intruded upon what is obviously a sensitive subject to you.’


A dark scowl appeared between those pale blue eyes. ‘It is not a sensitive subject at all; merely one I see no point in discussing any further.’

His tone was such that it was impossible for Elizabeth to continue probing right now. But it was a subject she had every intention of returning to at the earliest opportunity. ‘Mrs Wilson has given her permission for me to go riding with you in your carriage tomorrow if that is convenient with you?’ She looked up at him expectantly.

Allowing her every opportunity to see the look of triumph that suddenly lit those pale eyes. ‘Tomorrow afternoon will suit me perfectly.’

‘Wonderful!’ Elizabeth smiled at him. ‘Now I really should be getting back to Hepworth Manor—’

‘So soon?’ Sir Rufus now scowled darkly.

‘Mrs Wilson relies on my advice when choosing her gown for dinner,’ she added affectionately, if not quite truthfully.

But even this brief time in Sir Rufus’s company had been taxing on Elizabeth’s nerves and revealed he was not a man that she felt in the least comfortable with, let alone enjoyed his company. Besides which, she had nothing else she wished to talk to him about and had already shown enough curiosity about his brother for one day.

‘If you really feel that you must.’ Sir Rufus still looked less than pleased.

‘I do.’ Elizabeth once again placed her hand briefly on his arm. ‘After all, I would not wish to abuse Mrs Wilson’s kindness when she had already given permission for us to go driving together tomorrow.’

‘Of course not.’ Sir Rufus seemed perfectly happy to accept her going now that he was safe in the knowledge of seeing her again tomorrow, although that look of satisfaction faded somewhat when he looked down at the scampering Hector. ‘I trust there will be no need to bring that dog with you?’

Elizabeth was once again reminded that she had been advised that a man who did not like dogs and children was not to be trusted. Admittedly, at this moment in time Elizabeth was only sure that Sir Rufus did not like dogs, but even so… ‘I am sure not.’ She smiled tightly. ‘After all, there would be no exercise for him sitting in a carriage.’

Sir Rufus looked relieved as he attempted to explain his aversion. ‘I was once bitten by a dog when I was a child, you understand.’

‘Ah.’ Elizabeth nodded. ‘I assure you, Hector is the most good-natured of animals. Perhaps the dog that bit you was ill or in pain?’ Or perhaps Sir Rufus had been as cold and unpleasant in his earlier years as he was as a man…

He looked down at her coldly. ‘That is no excuse for such unacceptable behaviour.’

Elizabeth feared even asking what had happened to that poor dog after he had bitten him! ‘Animals can sometimes sense when one is…not comfortable with them.’

Those blue eyes became glacial. ‘Afraid, you mean?’

‘Not at all,’ Elizabeth hastened to say as she realised the tangle she was falling into. ‘I, for instance, did not grow up with cats and tend to be slightly wary in their company.’

Some of the tension left Sir Rufus’s shoulders. ‘Cats are like horses, independent creatures all. I simply cannot abide the way dogs grovel and whine for attention.’

Elizabeth decided that was quite enough on that particular subject too—if they continued in this way there would be no safe subjects left for them to discuss! ‘Until tomorrow afternoon, Sir Rufus.’ She dropped him a brief curtsy.

He nodded in response, a slight softening in his icy demeanour. ‘I am already looking forward to it.’

Which was more than Elizabeth was!

She did not like Sir Rufus in the least, Elizabeth realised with a sinking heart as she turned to walk slowly back to Hepworth Manor. She found him pompous, opinionated and even slightly cruel when he talked of darling Hector.

Perhaps she should not have agreed to go driving with him at all. Perhaps, now that she was over her first shock at the things Lord Thorne had told her about Giles Tennant, and thinking more clearly, it would have been wiser to ask Mrs Wilson if she had any knowledge of Sir Rufus’s younger brother; Mrs Wilson was not a woman who cared for gossip, certainly, but that did not mean she would not know exactly when and how Giles Tennant had died. And also the name of the married lover he had killed before taking his own life.

Yes, perhaps it would have been more sensible on Elizabeth’s part to have spoken to Mrs Wilson on the subject rather than suffer several hours alone in Sir Rufus’s company tomorrow…