The American Bride

chapter Nine

To Cara's chagrin, in the days that followed Julian took an increasing interest in the children. It was not unusual for Cara to glance up from her schoolbooks to find the disconcerting brown eyes spearing her from the doorway. More and more often Julian found excuses to pass the schoolroom or to check with Richard about the time for their ride. Belin and Richard fought to outdo each other in inventing reasons that he should stay to hear their lessons. The children were overjoyed when their guardian acceded to their badgering but Cara was less than enthused.

Cara noticed that Richard in particular was thriving under the attention from his uncle. The sullen, taciturn young man became as talkative as Belin. His eyes glowed with pride and he vied with his sister in showing off before their guardian. When Julian arrived the lessons were disrupted while he launched into a description of his adventures abroad. Richard, eyes filled with hero worship, bombarded the older man with questions, his inquisitive mind titillated by the narratives of new worlds.

At these times Cara attempted to remain in the background. She sat in the window alcove embroidering, hoping not to attract Julian's attention. Her eyes watched the expressions flitting across his face as he described strange sights and wild and, she suspected, largely fictitious dangers. His efforts to please the children endeared him to her as no other action could have.

For his part Julian enjoyed his hours in the schoolroom. The clamor of the children and the delightful homeyness of the room were a solace; he had been without family for a majority of his life. It brought back to him the happy days of his own childhood when he and his brother threw themselves into the caprices of early boyhood. He was delighted to find that Richard was so much like his father. The boy had a great curiosity about the workings of the world and a penchant for mischief. Julian was getting acquainted with his nephew and finding a pleasure in his company. Even Belin was beginning to take on the qualities of a young lady.

However, much to Julian's annoyance, he discovered it was Miss Farraday who was the magnet that drew him to the schoolroom. He was honest enough to admit that if he wanted to see the children he could send for them at will. The one time that he had done that the little governess had absented herself. So in confusion Julian sought her out in the schoolroom.

The redoubtable Miss Farraday was a puzzle. It had not been a month since she had taken his household by storm. He could recall her apparently shy and docile nature. He should have been forewarned when she almost lost her temper at that first interview. The servants could not say or do enough for her; the children adored her. He watched in amazement her handling of his niece and nephew. She treated them as reasonable human beings, listening to their statements with an open-minded interest that to Julian's mind was ungovernesslike. Despite her own youth she seemed to have a finely tuned intuition of when to be firm and when a subtle diplomacy was needed. Her quiet presence was restful and yet Julian could recall instances where the passionate anger that bristled beneath her acquiescent manner had broken loose. She was at once a nonentity and an enigma.

"And why do I care?" Julian muttered under his breath. He was sitting on the floor building a castle of blocks with the children. His eyes darted to the window seat where Miss Farraday was sewing. "You are a married man," his mind accused. "What do you want from the girl?"

Julian shook his head in confusion. He didn't know what he wanted. The little American was in his thoughts constantly. When he didn't see her during the day his feet brought him willy-nilly to the door of the schoolroom. For now, all he wanted was to be in her presence. But he realized that beneath the surface there was a roiling wave of desire that threatened to overcome his better nature. Just staring at the girl, he could feel the tightness gathering in his loins.

Julian's ever-watchful eyes caught the glimmer of a smile on Cara's face and he wondered what had brought such a contented expression to her face. In a burst of anger he considered the fact that she might have found a suitor among his household staff or his tenants. He hoped that none of the men would importune the girl, whose youth would be very tempting to someone of jaded appetite. The scandal of the last governess had been narrowly averted and Julian would never permit a recurrence. Of course that young lady's story had been that Edward Tallworth had seduced her, however her avaricious demands made it difficult to believe that she was less than a willing partner to the seduction.

Perhaps I ought to warn Miss Farraday about Tallworth, Julian considered. Sort of give her a little fatherly advice.

He snorted in disgust thinking about the man. It had been a peaceful ten days since Tallworth had gone north on business. He was due back shortly and Julian hoped his interest in Miss Farraday had diminished. For all her maturity with the children the little American appeared unaware of the dangers inherent in her position.

"Would you, Uncle Julian?"

Richard's voice broke into Julian's reverie. He blinked his eyes several times until he could focus on the boy sitting beside him on the floor.

"I'm sorry, lad. I'm afraid I wasn't attending," Julian muttered, aware that his nephew had been speaking to him before he became so mired in his own thoughts.

"I asked if you'd like to see Loki?" the boy repeated.

"And what, pray tell, is a 'loki'?" Julian asked with a smile.

"It's not an it. It's a him." Then tired of the word game he burst out, "It's the colt that Miss Farraday and I have been taking care of."

"I see. Well in that case I would be delighted to see him."

Leaving Belin in the kitchen where she could be cosseted with cookies and sticky buns Cara followed Julian and Richard to the stables. The boy could barely contain his excitement, skipping ahead and then dashing back to exhort them to greater speed. Gathering up Glum as they entered the stables, their footsteps echoed on the wooden floors as they approached Loki's stall.

"He's still pretty small, Uncle Julian," Richard stated defensively as he prepared to open the door of the box. "But I just know he's going to be a smashing good horse."

"Well let's have a look at him." Julian stood back so that the nervous boy could lead the slim-legged animal out into the main part of the stables.

Cara and Glum hung back, giving the lad room to shine. They held their breath; eyes riveted on Julian's expressionless face. The black browed man stood motionless, eyeing the colt through narrowed eyes. Richard's hands shook on the lead rope but he remained silent while his uncle inspected his prize. Julian paced around the young stallion. With gentle hands he stroked the horse, testing the muscles and verifying the satiny coat and well-brushed main.

"I think you may be right, Richard," Julian agreed.

"Thank you, sir." Richard wriggled in ecstasy at his guardian's approval.

"He does appear to be an exceptionally fine specimen. He should only be sold to the finest rider. Someone who can appreciate his qualities."

"Sold?" the boy gulped in fear. He moved protectively to Loki stroking his forelock as the horse nuzzled his chest.

"Yes. But of course we would be careful whom he went to. No bruising rider or cow-handed neophyte."

"Oh, Uncle Julian, you really wouldn't sell him, would you?"

Julian almost smiled at the heartbreak in the voice of his nephew but held his mouth steady as he tilted his head to the side, staring at the colt.

"You might be right, halfling. It wouldn't be fitting to sell such a fine animal." The boy slumped in relief then stiffened as Julian continued. "He ought to be given to someone who would have sense enough to take care of such a magnificent horse. Do you think you would be able to take care of him, lad?"

The last words were spoken so softly that at first the boy was not sure that he had heard correctly. Then, in comprehension, his face whitened and his eyes lifted to Julian's for confirmation of the gift. At his uncle's answering nod, Richard gasped and in a flash of motion hurled himself on the older man.

Cara's vision was blurred with tears as she fumbled her way out into the stableyard. Beside her, Glum blew his nose noisily into a voluminous handkerchief, then spat into the dust. They grinned at each other, content to have witnessed the growing trust between the boy and his uncle. Cara's steps were light on the way back to the Hall but she halted abruptly when she saw Edward Tallworth walking toward her.

"Good afternoon, Miss Farraday," Tallworth called, making a mocking leg.

"Sir Edward," Cara acknowledged coolly as she continued on the path. Her heart fluttered anxiously as she caught the calculating gleam in Tallworth's eye.

"Is it too much to hope that you have missed me?" he asked as they drew abreast.

"I am afraid, Sir Edward, that I was not aware that you were away." Cara lied without a qualm. She had been relieved at his absence since the night he had accosted her in the garden.

"And how are your charges?" he asked unctuously.

"Doing well, thank you. In fact you must excuse me for I am late for Belin's lessons."

For a moment Cara thought Tallworth would attempt to bar her way. But as he reached out an arm to detain her, his eyes flicked over her shoulder and he dropped the hand to his side. Hearing Richard and Julian's voices as they approached along the path, Cara skirted around Tallworth and hurried to the safety of the Hall.

Cara crouched before the fireplace blowing on the dying fire. A flame flicked out, curling around one of the small pieces of kindling she had just added. She blew once and the flame disappeared, then as she continued blowing, it flared out stronger, catching on the tinder. Despite the heat of the day, Cara relished her fire at night to combat the slight chill from the exterior stone walls. She frowned in annoyance at the fire. She had been reading and had let it get too low. After a few , more pokings and proddings the fire crackled briskly and she curled up in a chair with her book. Her eyes stared at the pages but her mind was far away, unable to comprehend the words she saw. Her time at Weathersfield was almost up. She could expect a summons from her grandmother to end the masquerade at any time. When she had begun the charade she had planned to be an observer. It was evident that her character did not permit such a passive role. She had hurled herself into the affairs of the children, confronting Julian when she felt he was in the wrong. It seemed she made a very poor employee. Not only did she become totally involved with her charges but she had also fallen in love with her employer.

Soon, she would go back to her grandmother's and resume the role of Caroline Leland, young lady of fashion and bride of Julian, Lord Wilton.

For the hundredth time Cara wondered if Julian would recognize her. She hoped with proper clothing and with her red-gold hair curling around her face she would be a far cry from the dowdy governess. If she had stayed in the background he might not see any resemblance but her own actions had doomed that from the outset. Would he feel betrayed? Would he disavow the marriage? She would count on her grandmother’s iron will to make sure the marriage stood.

It would however be awkward. She wondered how he would deal with her. She did not know what Julian expected from their relationship. He had agreed to the marriage but would it be in name only? How could she explain to him that she already loved him and she was prepared to be more than just the mother of his heir? This thought brought the blood rushing to her cheeks and she turned her mind into safer channels.

The candles flickered on the table beside her at the opening of the schoolroom door.

Edward Tallworth lounged in the doorway, a smug satisfied smile on his face. The silence in the room and in the rest of the Hall made Cara conscious of the lateness of the hour and the inappropriateness of his visit.

"May I help you?" Cara asked coldly.

At Tallworth's leering expression, Cara hastily rose from her chair. Even standing, she felt at a disadvantage as the man loomed in the doorway. It had never occurred to her that she might be in danger in her own rooms. There was an air of menace around Tallworth that had frightened Cara in the garden but now it was even more powerful. Although her nervousness had increased at the silence of the figure in the doorway she tried to keep her voice even and unemotional.

"I suggest you see me in the morning, Sir Edward, if you have a question for me." Her tone was dismissive but Tallworth made no move to leave.

"Thought we ought to get better acquainted. After all I am the children's uncle and I like to keep appraised of their progress."

Tallworth entered the room, closing the door behind him. Although no expression crossed Cara's face she felt a jolt of fear along her spine. Her eyes darted to her bedroom door and she debated whether she should make a break for it or hold her ground. Her heart hammered, filling her ears with the sound. Her lips trembled and she had to moisten them before she was able to speak.

"I'm very sorry, Sir Edward, but it's late and I am tired. We'll have to continue this conversation in the morning. I'm afraid it would be hardly suitable at this hour."

She had tried to speak crisply but her voice quivered with the fear engendered by the presence of the man. She felt trapped, wanting to run but afraid that any overt action would trigger immediate violence in the tense figure across the room. Her eyes began to search the room for a weapon as she realized she would need to be able to defend herself.

"Please call me Edward, Miss Farraday." His tongue had trouble with the syllables of her name indicating that he had been drinking most of the evening.

"If you will please leave, Sir Edward, we can talk at another time." As she spoke, Cara was edging closer to the door of her room but Tallworth had already ascertained her direction and cut her off.

"After all, Miss Farraday," Tallworth continued as though she had not spoken, "You have been here almost a month and I feel we should be able to work out a closer relationship."

"I can see no possible reason that we should have any relationship at all," Cara snapped in anger. Although she managed to speak bravely her whole body began to tremble.

"Despite your pathetic wardrobe I feel you have great potential." Tallworth leered at her, leaving little to her imagination as to his intentions. As he spoke he staggered toward her, devouring her with his eyes.

"I beg your pardon, sir."

Cara was terrified now but tried to portray dignified outrage. She knew instinctively that if she showed her fear he would cease the cat and mouse game and pounce on her immediately. All she could hope for was to play for time, trusting to chance for an opportunity to outwit his attack. As he circled around the chair toward her she tried a bold maneuver.

"I can no longer remain in this room when you insult me."

With racing heart Cara stalked toward the door into the corridor. Her movement caught him by surprise and for a moment she thought she might be able to escape. As Tallworth's look of surprise turned to fury, he charged after her, grabbing her arm and pulling her toward him. Cara struggled but was afraid of precipitating anything worse.

"You're hurting my arm," Cara cried, her voice shaking with a combination of anger and hysteria.

"Now, my dear, pray give over the coy maidenly act. I'm sure we can come to some agreement."

Tallworth spun her around and his lips swooped down to capture hers in a punishing kiss. His liquor-laden breath gagged her as she struggled within the embrace. As his kiss deepened Cara began to struggle in earnest, fighting down her panic and rising faintness. Loosing one of her hands she swung and caught him heavily on the ear. As he staggered away she broke loose and ran toward her bedroom door. Her hand touched the knob, but with a leap, Tallworth was on her before she could gain entrance. With a wrenching pain, he threw her against the door reaching for her.

"For that, my dear, you will pay dearly," Tallworth snarled.

Cara cried out before he could kiss her again and raising her foot kicked him in the leg. Her soft slippers made little dent on his leather boots. An evil smile lit Tallworth's face as he pulled her toward him. She moaned in fear and pain as his grasping fingers bit into her shoulders.

"Excuse me, Edward. I am sure you can find entertainment elsewhere."

Julian's ice-tinged voice was startling in the stillness of the room. Tallworth's grip loosened and Cara staggered back against the wall. Shaking with relief, she was unable to make a sound as she fought to catch her breath.

Julian's eyes blazed with anger as he watched the girl fighting for self-possession. He was startled by the purity of lines in her face, seen in the shimmering light of the fire. Her blue-green eyes were dilated, a glowing counterpoint to the whiteness of her skin. Staring into the luminescent face of the frightened girl, he ached for the wounded vulnerability he saw etched on her soul. His eyes swung to the discomposed Tallworth and it was all that he could do not to bolt across the room and beat the man into insensibility for causing this innocent even one moment of pain or discomfort. He had always thought that Tallworth was contemptible and blamed himself for permitting the man anywhere near Miss Farraday. With the man's unsavory history, the girl should have been protected from this sort of savagery.

Shaken by Tallworth's aborted attack and Julian's providential arrival, Cara could only stare mutely at her rescuer. She watched the mix of emotions mirrored in his eyes. Concern for her, anger at Tallworth and another more intangible expression that Cara could not put a name to. Unable to voice her appreciation and aware that once more Julian had found her in another untenable position a blush of color swept up her throat and with a swirl of skirts she threw open the door of her room. Inside, she leaned against the wood and shot the bolt for additional safety.

The soft crackling of the fire was the only sound in the schoolroom as Julian flung a blazing scowl at Tallworth who was rearranging his clothing in unconcern. The muscles of one of Julian's eyes twitched as he fought to control his temper. "After Miss Corday's precipitous departure," Julian remarked coldly, "I would have thought you would confine your dalliances to somewhere other than the schoolroom."

"I feel your arrival was less than welcome, Julian," Tallworth bluffed, retying his cravat with the utmost care.

"Let me make myself perfectly clear. Governesses are very difficult to find. I do not enjoy interviewing a new one every few months. I will not have you taking advantage of this one." Julian bit off his words in surpressed fury.

"Hah! Taking advantage indeed," Tallworth snarled back. "I would say the reverse was more likely. The chit was waiting for me in the corridor."

For some reason this statement ripped away the last vestiges of Julian's control and he grasped Tallworth by his newly tied cravat almost lifting him from the floor.

"I don't care if she comes to you without a stitch on. If you touch her again I will break every bone in your body."

The quietly spoken words were all the more threatening. Shrugging off Julian's hands, Tallworth straightened his neckcloth. His facial expression mirrored a trace of fear along with a calculating leer. Squaring his shoulders he strolled toward the door, conscious of Julian's eyes boring into his back.

"If you wanted her for yourself, old boy, you only had to tell me," Tallworth drawled as he disappeared through the door into the corridor.

Julian stood rooted to the floor, clenching and unclenching his hands. He wanted to tear after the other man and smash his fists into Tallworth's smirking face. He trembled with emotion as he fought to control his rage. He turned toward Cara's door wanting to assure her that she was no longer in danger. He would offer his protection for as long as she needed it. He would hold her in his arms and promise to keep her safe from harm.

"Damn," Julian swore turning away from the bedroom door. Storming down the corridor he wondered at his own innocence where Miss Farraday was concerned. He was a married man and could offer neither protection nor sanctuary to the little governess. Is that what he wanted to give the girl or was he as guilty as Tallworth in wanting to caress the lithe body beneath the dowdy clothes? His mind conjured up a picture of the girl spread naked in front of the fire, skin glowing in the flickering light. Groaning, Julian slammed into the library. He reached for the decanter of brandy. Hurling himself into a chair he poured a liberal portion into a glass and downed it quickly.

It was obvious that Tallworth would have to leave Weathersfield. The man had imbibed for the better part of the evening. Julian had watched him, knowing that his debauched habits and continued interest in the little governess would lead to trouble. When Tallworth disappeared Julian knew without conscious thought that he would find him in the schoolroom.

"It will give me the greatest pleasure to throw the bastard out!" Julian snarled pouring another glassful of brandy.

After bolting the door Cara's knees gave out and she sank to the floor beside the bed. Her whole body shook in relief at her narrow escape. Eventually her trembling gave way to a bone-jarring anger.

"How dare that man touch me?" Cara raged.

She had done nothing to encourage Tallworth. He had attacked her for his own sexual gratification. She ground her teeth remembering how casually he had appraised her body and how he had taken it for granted that she would accept his advances, even welcome them.

Having been raised in a sheltered environment Cara was unprepared for the realities of an unprotected female. In dawning awareness she wondered if other female servants were the objects of the lustful advances of their employers. It was only now that she realized the true dangers of her situation. As a member of the gentry she had always been safe in the company of gentlemen. She had been chaperoned in public but the idea that she might be subject to an attack on her person in private was inconceivable. She wondered in confusion if her grandmother could have any conception of her vulnerability. Cara doubted it, for if she had, her grandmother would never have countenanced this masquerade.

Tiredly Cara stood up and staggered toward the washstand. She poured water into the basin with trembling hands. Stripping off her clothes she scrubbed her body until her skin reddened and still she felt violated by Tallworth's touch. Her teeth chattered as she curled up into a tight ball beneath the covers. As warmth began to creep into her body, she relaxed and fell asleep.