The Dutiful Daughter. Jo Brown Ann
No! This was no time to be thinking of the annoying earl. She must find a way to prevent any further discussions like the one in her father’s book-room. Sleeping last night had been impossible. She regretted letting him goad her into speaking coldly to a guest. But she did not regret the moments when his gaze held hers too long, even though she should not be thinking of that.
“Avoiding the very edge of the cliffs is always wise,” Sophia said, knowing she must say something so her cousin did not suspect her thoughts were on his friend. “It is the first lesson my sister and I learned when we got old enough to explore on our own.”
“Now you are passing it along to me as the new Lord Meriweather.”
She forced a smile. “Consider it simply one of the Meriweather estate traditions.”
“One I will take to heart. After all, I can’t depend on Northbridge to save me this time.” Color flashed up his face, and he looked quickly away.
He had said something he had not intended. Sophia should change the subject and put him at ease once more. But her curiosity had been whetted. The earl had saved her cousin’s life. During the war? It must have been. What had happened? Was that when the earl had received the wound that had left a scar on his face? She wanted to ask, but she would be wiser simply to say nothing.
“Please, I implore you,” Cousin Edmund said, “forget that I said that, Sophia.”
“It is forgotten,” she said, though she wondered if she could ever do as she stated.
He gave a relieved sigh. “Thank you. Northbridge prefers to let what took place during the war remain unspoken. On that, I agree with him.” He cleared his throat and looked past her toward the village. “Do tell me, Sophia, about the rumors I hear that pirates once held sway in Sanctuary Bay.”
Sophia grasped on to the new topic with eagerness. To discuss Lord Northbridge, even obliquely, made her uncomfortable. She wanted to keep the discussion with her cousin light, and he seemed to be making every effort to do the same.
When she retold the story she had related to the earl last night, Edmund asked insightful questions about the pirates’ vessels and how they disposed of their ill-gotten goods.
“You look astonished,” he said.
“I am. Most people focus on the adventures upon the seas rather than what the pirates had to do once they were ashore in order to profit from their crimes.”
Edmund smiled, and her heart caught when she saw a shadow of her father’s features on his face. It was the first time she had noticed a family resemblance. “I must admit to what is scandalous for a peer, even a new one. Before I bought my commission, I was involved in importing fine woods and other materials for the houses my company built or rebuilt in London and in the countryside. Anyone in the import business loses sleep over a ship being sunk or pirated.”
“You may not want to mention your past business worries in such terms when you visit the village.”
“Because the piracy continues?”
“Not the piracy. Papa and I were never able to find actual proof that it ever occurred.” She smiled as she held her bonnet to her head as the wind tried to pull it off again. “I am sorry to tell you that we cannot say the same about smuggling.”
Her cousin snorted so loudly that the footman turned to stare at them in curiosity. “If there are men in any port along the British shore who have not taken advantage of a customs officer’s lack of attention, I have not heard of them.” He glanced at the sea. “I think I shall enjoy my visits here.”
Sophia paused, astonished, as they rounded the end of the headland and turned up the hill toward the house. Its chimneys could be seen over the trees that protected it from the worst of the sea storms. So many times she had taken in this view, but for the first time, she felt like a stranger who had washed up on the shore.
“You are not planning on making Meriweather Hall your home?” she asked.
“For part of the year. I worked too hard building my business to sell it simply because I was made a peer.” He looked back at her. “That probably sounds silly to you.”
“No, not at all.” Her admiration for her cousin rose because he was willing to step outside the expectations of the ton to hold on to his dreams.
“Thank you.” For the first time, his smile seemed genuine. “I am glad you understand. I assure you that I will not neglect Meriweather Hall.”
“I never even thought that.”
He began walking with her toward the house. “But I cannot ignore my company either. I must oversee it until I can find a manager I have faith in.”
“You must have had someone to stand in your stead while you were on the Continent.”
He rubbed his hands together, then rammed them into the large pockets of his greatcoat. “I did, but the fellow has told me that he no longer wants the responsibility. It was one thing, he has told me, to carry the load of another man’s business during the war. It is quite a different situation now.”
“None of your other employees will do?”
“I have several good men in mind, but I must make a decision on that.” He sighed as if he faced a very distasteful task. “I will also be obligated to go up to London for the parliamentary season, of course.”
“Of course.” She must have failed to keep her bitterness out of her voice because her cousin looked puzzled and as uncertain as she had felt during most of their walk.
“I would have guessed that you and your sister would enjoy visiting London during the height of the social Season.”
“I am sure Catherine would.” Seeing his eyes narrow, she hurried to add, “I attended part of one Season with my father a few years ago.”
Did Edmund believe she was fishing for a proposal by speaking of her sister being fired-off? She must be more cautious with every word.
“Part of one Season?” he asked.
“Yes.”
He hesitated, and she knew she had aroused his curiosity. She should have known better than to speak of going to London for a partial Season. A young, unbetrothed woman in her first Season would leave Town early only for embarrassing reasons—a lack of funds, a ruined reputation, or because she was cast aside by a fiancé.
“My London house is available to you and your sister and mother whenever you wish to participate in the Season again,” he said.
“That is very kind of you.”
“It seems only fair as you have welcomed me here.”
“I am glad that you are making yourself at home at Meriweather Hall. I hope you will always feel that way.” Heat slapped her face when his took on an odd shade of gray.
She had not intended for her words to mean anything more than the trite phrase she would have spoken to any guest. His reaction warned that he had read a different meaning into them. Would she have to be on guard each time she spoke for fear that he would construe her words as a request for him to propose marriage?
A motion along the headland drew Sophia’s attention away from her cousin’s ashen face. Even from a distance she could not mistake Lord Northbridge’s assertive stride. His children walked in front of him, as if he herded them down the narrow path. Michael stopped to examine something on the ground. The earl spoke, his words lost to the wind, and the little boy stiffened, straightened and kept walking.
“It appears we are not the only ones eager to enjoy the air.” Relief gushed through Edmund’s words.
Sophia resisted the temptation to grasp her cousin by both arms and tell him that she wished they would speak plainly instead of skirting the truth. She was in no more hurry to marry him than he appeared to be to ask her. She would be happy