Bought for Revenge. Sarah Mallory
to be at the manor all day, so come if you can.’
It had been such a pleasurable day, why not repeat it? She was sorely tempted.
‘We have reached the edge of the Oakenroyd Park,’ he said, bringing his horse to a stand. ‘I shall leave you here and hope to see you on Monday.’
‘I—Do not look for me.’ She was suddenly unsure.
The brim of his hat shaded his face and she could read nothing from his look, although she knew those black eyes were fixed on her. Unsettled, she touched her crop to Apollo’s flank and set off at a gallop across the park. She did not look back, but it was an effort. She wondered if he was still watching her, or had he ridden away, putting all thoughts of her from his mind?
Annabelle entered the house by a side door and went to find her father. He was in his study, but he put down his book when she entered.
‘So you are back at last, my love. Did you enjoy yourself at Morwood?’
‘The time went very quickly,’ she answered him evasively. ‘We covered everything to the south and east of the house. Mr Monserrat has a lot of work to do to make Morwood habitable again.’
‘But it is time. I should have done more with it.’
‘You once had plans to build another house there, did you not, Papa?’
‘Yes. I thought I might do so.’ He sighed. ‘I was going to demolish the old manor, but when it came to it…’ He sighed again. ‘Perhaps I should have sold Morwood then. Perhaps I should never have bought it.’
‘Too late to fret over that, sir,’ was Annabelle’s bracing response. ‘Instead let us be thankful that it is now being restored.’
‘Yes. Do you know, my love, I think Mr Monserrat’s coming will prove beneficial to the whole area. I am glad you have shown him over the grounds, Belle. I would not want him to think us anything less than good neighbours.’
She walked to the window, gazing out at the tranquil gardens, everything so neat and orderly.
‘He has asked me to ride out with him again, Papa. On Monday.’
‘And will you go, Belle?’
She raised her eyes, looking past the well-kept domesticity of Oakenroyd to the rugged moors beyond. Even in the sunshine they had a barren look to them, a wildness that attracted her. And beyond the moor lay the neglected groves of Morwood and their enigmatic owner.
‘Belle?’ Her father spoke again. ‘Will you ride out with Mr Monserrat?’
She smiled.
‘Yes, Papa. I think I shall.’
Chapter Four
It was gone noon and Lucas was helping the men to winch a particularly heavy section of the pediment into place over the main door when the sound of hooves made him look around. Annabelle was approaching, cantering out of the trees.
The rush of pleasure he felt at the sight of her surprised him. Quickly he turned his attention back to the job in hand. The stone was inching upwards amongst a complicated web of ropes, the stonemason on the scaffolding above them shouting instructions. At last the block was in place and he could release his hold and leave the others to finish the work.
Annabelle had brought Apollo to a stand well back from the bustle and disorder in front of the house. Lucas picked up his discarded jacket as he walked over to meet her. He was aware of her watching him as he shrugged himself into his coat. How must he look to her in his workaday buckskins and simply knotted neckcloth? Did she think him beneath her?
No. That was not her way. Everyone he met told him that Miss Havenham was an angel, not at all proud or disdainful. Unless one treated her with insolence, as he had done. Then she was justly indignant, her grey eyes darkening with anger and she became a force to be reckoned with. He smiled to himself. There was steel beneath that soft exterior. It would be interesting to discover just how much.
Lucas approached her, reaching up to rub Apollo’s great head.
‘You came.’
‘Yes.’ She looked a little uncertain. ‘If you are too busy it does not matter—’
He smiled. ‘No, not too busy at all. Wait there while I collect Sultan.’
The Home Wood lay at the western edge of the Morwood estate. The road to it lay through what had once been the park, but the smooth grass had been left to grow uncropped and the elegant trees now rose up amongst a mass of weeds and brambles. Lucas looked about him, frowning.
‘Did your father tell you why he bought Morwood?’ When she shook her head he continued, ‘Much of it shares a boundary with Oakenroyd. Perhaps he thought it a good opportunity to increase his property.’
‘Perhaps, although Papa has never been ambitious in that way.’
‘So he just shut the gates and left it to rot.’
She flushed. ‘He intended to build a new house and give it to my brother—’ She broke off, biting her lip. ‘I think, when Edwin died, he lost heart.’
‘He should at least have maintained the woods and the grounds.’
He heard the defensive note in her voice when she responded. ‘My father must have had his reasons for leaving Morwood as it was.’
‘Oh, I am sure he did.’ Annabelle was looking at him, a faint crease in her brows. It was not part of his plan to antagonise her, so he threw off his black mood and smiled. ‘Let us not waste time upon conjecture, Miss Havenham. You are here to show me the Home Wood and I am eager to see it.’
They picked their way across the neglected park and Annabelle led him unerringly to the remains of a path meandering through the trees.
‘My father told me this was once a carriageway here, used by the family for pleasure trips around the grounds.’
‘It leads to the lake.’
‘Yes, you are right. How…?’
‘One of the locals told me.’
‘What good memories they have, when no one ever comes here now. It is still possible to reach the water, although I haven’t ridden this way for a while and the weeds will already be invading the path. Would you like to see it?’
Annabelle turned Apollo on to the little-used track. Lucas followed, enjoying the view of her elegant figure twisting and bending to avoid the overhanging branches. the encroaching brambles snared her skirts, but she kept the big horse moving forwards. Gradually the sounds of the building work disappeared and only creaking leather and the jingle of the harness could be heard, along with the occasional trill of birdsong high up in the trees. Sunlight filtered through the young leaves and painted a fine tracery over everything, and as the hooves disturbed the soft loamy soil the pungent scent of damp earth rose up to meet them. As he followed Annabelle through this strange, unfamiliar world, an unaccustomed peace settled over Lucas. It was the most relaxed he had felt for a long time.
The path began a gentle slope downwards and they picked their way, avoiding the tree roots and the occasional stone protruding through the earth. Finally, through the trees ahead there was the glint of sunlight on the water.
‘We are nearly there.’
Even as she called over her shoulder the trees gave way to a grassy bank that ran down to the water’s edge. Before them stretched the lake, a large, serpentine expanse of water enclosed by trees that grew thickly over the slopes of the surrounding hills. It was a sheltered spot and the spring sunshine was surprisingly hot.
Belle stopped and waited for her companion to bring his horse up beside her. ‘There. Was that not worth pushing through the undergrowth?’
‘It is every bit as beautiful as I…as I was led to believe.’
‘You