Devonshire by Lynne Connolly

Author:Lynne Connolly
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Georgian England, Regency romance, rich, Historical mystery, aristocracy
Publisher: LMC Publications
Published: 2018-08-06T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

RICHARD REMEMBERED his promise to me, about this name that had cropped up: Thompson. He had said he would tell me the following day and accordingly, he asked for the use of the music room for an hour after breakfast. Martha assumed he wished me to play for him again, so she grudgingly gave her permission. I waited for him there.

Richard came in carrying a plain wooden box, about the size of a tea caddy. The maid stood by the door and curtseyed to him. I waved her out and, after casting one doubtful look in his direction, she obeyed and pulled the door closed behind her. I knew she must have received instructions from Martha not to leave us alone together. I must make matters right with my sister-in-law on the maid’s behalf later.

Richard put the box down on the small table by the window, before he came to take me in his arms and kiss me good morning. “One day closer,” I said, when I could.

“So it is.” He seemed so sanguine about it. I still had doubts, not about my feelings for him, but his for me. I still wondered why he should have fallen in love with me, but I could say nothing. It would have been tantamount to asking him for compliments. Perhaps it was that I couldn’t believe my good fortune.

He led me to a chair by the little table, helped me sit and then took a chair and sat down opposite me. He leaned one elbow on the table and gazed at me. I smiled back at him. “Thompson’s,” he said, with a smile.

“Yes, please. I’ve imagined all kinds of things. Are you a gang leader perhaps?”

He laughed, genuine amusement showing through his naturally serene expression. “With a highwayman’s mask and a musket?”

I smiled too, as I had a ridiculous vision of him in all his court finery with a filthy scarf wrapped around his mouth, holding up a carriage on the road to Exeter.

“No, my love,” he said eventually, “nothing so exciting, I fear. But let me tell it in my own way, and you’ll know it all. There is one thing—”

“Yes?” I lifted my head to meet his gaze.

He caught his breath in an audible gasp. “Sometimes... You look so trusting there, sitting with the sun lighting your hair, and that look in your eyes...” He leaned forward, caught my hand in his, and gazed at me until I became embarrassed by what I saw in his face and looked down, blushing.

“How did you know what I was thinking?” he asked, amused.

“I recognised something in your eyes, and when I’ve seen it before.”

He kissed my hand and released it. “Two weeks,” he reminded me softly, and then took a deep breath and reminded us both, “Thompson’s.”

“Thompson’s.”

He took another breath and smiled at me. “When I was eighteen, Gervase left to go abroad, and the Strang family was in turmoil. Preparations were already under way for Gervase and I to go on the Grand Tour when the scandal broke and he left.

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