Autumn's Wild Heart (Seasons Book 4) Read online

  There had never been much use going in there. Music had never been a talent he possessed in any great measure. He only knew enough to recognize raw talent when he heard it. And he was hearing it now.

  As he listened, the music grew louder, soaring and dipping, drawing him closer.

  He opened the door ever so quietly and stepped into the room. Not wishing to disturb his wife, he simply crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the doorway.

  James watched his wife display a gift he’d not expected. Her head dipped and swayed. Her eyes remained closed, her hands lifting gracefully to linger a moment before they plunged back to the keyboard.

  She was remarkable. She played with such passion that her entire body moved with each note.

  James wasn’t sure what she was playing. It was something he’d heard before. Something written by a composer of note, but he couldn’t say who.

  The piece ended, or perhaps it was only one movement of the piece, because after a suspended moment she continued with a different part. And the next part of the song was much faster and seemed incredibly difficult to play. Her fingers danced over the keys, hitting them with practiced ability, and striking them with precision and strength.

  The ending of the piece raced on, accelerating faster and faster. Then, with a crashing final chord, she swept it to a powerful conclusion.

  As her final notes rang in the room, James felt his heart tumble, then begin to slow. She’d drawn him so thoroughly into her music that his heart had seemed to take on a new rhythm of its own. She had done that with nothing but her lovely hands that expressed her incalculable gift. Her ability was beyond anything he knew to compare it.

  She sat in stillness for several moments before she finally opened her eyes and gently ran her fingertips over the ivory keys.

  “You have a gift,” he said when she turned her head and saw him standing in the doorway. Her surprise caused him to smile.

  She rose from the piano bench and stood to face him. “Thank you,” she answered, “but I’m afraid I have just enough talent to realize how lacking I truly am.”

  “I don’t find you lacking at all.”

  Her cheeks darkened as if she wasn’t used to receiving compliments.

  He walked toward her. “Did Mrs. Pendleton give you a tour of the house, my lady?”

  “She did. And it’s beautiful.”

  “It will suit?” he asked.

  “Very much, my lord,” she answered. “I could not ask for anything more perfect.”

  James held out his hand and escorted her to the drawing room next door. “Would you care for a glass of sherry? Or perhaps wine?”

  “Wine if you please, my lord.”

  “I fear we are reverting in our attempt to use our first names. My lord and my lady are terribly formal.”

  She smiled and took the wine he held out to her. “Thank you…James.”

  James sat in the cushioned wing chair facing hers and took a sip of his brandy. He stretched his muscular legs out in front of him and turned his glass in his fingers. “What was the name of the piece you played?”

  “Ah. That was Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata. I only played the second and third movements, although the first movement is the most well-known. Were you familiar with it?”

  “Yes. I’ve heard it before, but wasn’t so familiar with it that I could tell you its title.”

  He gave a sheepish grin and was taken off guard by his wife’s answering smile. A euphoria that had most likely risen while she played still seemed to linger in her sapphire gaze.

  It was both reassuring and unsettling. Reassuring, because her ability to lose herself in music showed her growing comfort with his home. Unsettling, because of the way it stirred him.

  His pleasure in the moment lasted through dinner and then a drink in the library. James was pleasantly surprised at how comfortable he was becoming in her presence.

  “I believe I’d like to go for a walk in the garden before bed,” she said as she rose to her feet. “That is, before retiring.”

  He noted her furious blush at the mention of ‘bed’ and smiled.

  “We shall go to our bed a thousand times in the years ahead, wife. I trust the mere mention of it won’t bring you to a blush every time.” He paused and pondered what he’d just said. “Then again, I might wish for it.”

  Now it was her turn to pause. She slowly turned and looked at him from beneath her hooded eyelids. “If a mere blush brings…energetic thoughts to mind, then perhaps I shall make a habit of it.”

  Her hand flew to her mouth as if she wished to recall the words. She turned toward the terrace door and fled, leaving James to find himself wondering if he should reprimand her speech or dissolve in laughter.

  In the end he did neither and merely followed her into the garden where they strolled to a stone bench.

  “I want to thank you, James,” she said as she sat and arranged her skirts. For the second time since he’d met his wife he wondered why she chose such uninteresting colors. He was discovering delightful shades to her personality, but her clothing did not match it at all.

  “Thank me for what?”

  “For making our marriage bearable.”

  “Only bearable?”

  She flushed again. “What I mean is, I wouldn’t blame you if you had taken your anger and frustration out on me for placing us in a compromising position.”

  “What good would that do, Nella? It would only make us both miserable. And a lifetime is a long time to live with anger and hatred.”

  “Yes,” she whispered, “but I regret that you are the one who experienced the greatest loss.”

  He was quiet for a short while, then asked the question that had been nagging at him since they’d been found together. “If I ask you a question, will you answer me honestly?”

  “Yes,” she responded after thinking a moment.

  “If I hadn’t been found with you, would I have been found with someone else?”

  She kept her gaze locked on her clenched hands in her lap. “Yes.”

  “Was that person someone you thought was not desirable?”

  “It doesn’t matter who it was, James. Don’t you see? The deception alone was unforgivable. I just couldn’t…couldn’t bear to see you caught in a trap.”

  “If I insisted, would you reveal what really happened?”

  She thought for several long minutes. “If you insisted I would have no recourse but to tell you what happened.”

  “Then I would like to know. I don’t want there to be any secrets between us and I think keeping this information from me could cause a rift between us.”

  He watched her wrestle with the dilemma. But at last she spoke.

  “Then I will tell you. I had escaped to the retiring room and while I was hiding in there, three women entered. They didn’t know I was there, and I stayed behind a screen while they began to talk. One of them was to give you a message arranging the time and place for an assignation. The other was to drug the brandy in your room. The woman who was set on entrapping you was going to wait until you’d had time to drink some of the brandy and the sleeping draught began to work before she entered.”

  Nella stood and walked to the edge of the pathway. “I’ve always known that she was probably the person you would end up at the altar with, but I wanted it to be your choice. I didn’t want you to be tricked into marrying.”

  “Yet, that’s what happened.” He tried hard to keep recrimination from his voice, but sensed he didn’t quite succeed.

  “Yes,” she whispered as she turned toward him. “Please believe me when I tell you that isn’t how I intended it to happen. I wanted to reach the room before you drank the drugged brandy and stop you, but by the time I got there, you were well inebriated.

  “I tried to wake you but couldn’t. Then, I tried to lift you, but couldn’t. That’s when you fell on top of me. I couldn’t move you off of me before the door opened and we were found.”

  “I see,” Ja
mes said on a sigh. “Thank you for telling me. And, thank you for trying to save me.”

  “But I didn’t save you! I failed in that attempt and forced you to do something far worse.”

  James rose from the bench and walked to where Nella stood. “Then it will be our duty to make our marriage something that is not far worse.”

  “How can you be so understanding, James?”

  “What good would it do if I were not?”

  “None, but…”

  “Before I came to see your father, I visited my aunt. She’s the one who convinced me I should make the best of our situation. I decided to take her advice.”

  “I’m glad you did.”

  Of course, he didn’t tell her his aunt had issued a threat along with her advice, but that was something his wife never needed to know.

  A long while later, after Nella had gone to her bed and his brandy decanter was empty, he climbed the stairs and undressed. When he was ready, he stumbled to his wife’s room and climbed beneath the covers.

  Their lovemaking was much as it had been the night before and when he finished, he rose from her bed and went to his own room. The minute his head hit the pillow he was sound asleep.

  Perhaps his marriage wouldn’t be so bad after all. Perhaps he would learn to adjust to married life without too much of a struggle. Perhaps he could give her a child soon and much of this pretense would be over.

  Perhaps…

  Chapter 6

  Nella looked out onto the beautiful area she’d discovered on one of her daily walks. It had been three weeks since she’d become Lady Danvers, and every day she and her husband settled into a more relaxed routine.

  They rose every morning, breakfasted together, then James retired to his study to work on the estate accounts and Nella met with Mrs. Pendleton and Cook to go over the day’s menu. After that, Nella was free to do whatever she liked.

  Today she’d taken her art supplies and walked to a spot she’d discovered last week. She sat by the trickling stream and put down on canvas the lush landscape before her. She wanted to get the varieties of flowers still in bloom onto the canvas before the autumn coolness and shortness of days stole their vivid colors.

  She’d always found peace and enjoyment in painting, using painting as an escape from everyday tedium. Most females used their free time getting ready for the endless rounds of parties and balls, or for visiting their numerous friends and acquaintances, but since Nella had never attended the number of events as did most females, she’d found other hobbies to keep herself occupied.

  She swirled her paintbrush through a particular shade of green she liked especially well and applied it to her canvas. She’d been happily immersed in her art for more than an hour when a snap of a branch behind her brought her to halt her brushstroke and turn.

  “It’s beautiful,” her husband said from over her left shoulder. “Beautiful.”

  Nella smiled. “If you find it so, that is because of the location. It’s a beautiful spot.”

  James stepped closer to her and bent down to study her painting more closely. “You truly have a gift, my lady.”

  “I’m glad you think so, but I know my shortcomings. I am only an average artist.”

  “As you consider yourself an average pianist.”

  “Yes, only average.” Nella started putting her brushes and paints away. “How did you know I was here?”

  Her husband reached for the basket in which she carried her supplies and opened the lid while Nella put the brushes and small jars of paints inside.

  “If you must know, I went to the kitchen in search of a raspberry scone and was told in no uncertain terms that Cook had saved the last one for you.” He smiled. “It seems she tucked it into your kit.”

  “My…my kit? I don’t think so.”

  Oh dear lord, she prayed. Please don’t let there be crumbs on my lips.

  “Not to worry, wife. Cook had just pulled pumpkin muffins from the oven. I had two and made her promise not to share a single one with you.”

  Nella gulped, then cast her eyes upward in time to see his dramatic wink.

  “You beast,” she moaned. “You wish me to starve?” Nella pasted a mischievous look on her face, but inside she was reeling. Her whole life she had been secretive about what she ate. And never, no never, would she have mentioned so very casually that she might eat a frosted pumpkin muffin. Or suggest that she would not welcome that most desirable state known as starvation.

  Was she getting too comfortable with him? Had she best watch her tongue?

  Nella folded her easel and carried it to a clump of trees. She returned for the small stool she’d sat on while she painted and hid both items in the folds of a huge trunk where she knew she could find them. She was very conscious of him watching her as she secured a canvas cover over the lot.

  “I hope you don’t mind that I don’t carry everything back each time. It’s just easier to store my things here so they’re handy when I come back.”

  “Not at all,” her husband said with a smile. “That’s very wise of you.” He looked around the area then back at her. “Are you ready to return to the house?”

  “Yes,” she answered, and he picked up the basket with one hand and held out his other arm for her to take.

  Nella looped her arm through his elbow and they walked toward home.

  The feel of his muscled strength beneath her hand sent strange emotions tumbling through her. It was a similar feeling she experienced every night when he came to her bed—the heat that radiated from him, the strength he exhibited when he drew her close.

  At first she hadn’t been brave enough to touch him, but each night she became bolder. Each night she wrapped her arms around him and held him close. And she allowed her fingers to explore.

  “I must make a trip to London soon,” he said as they turned onto the homeward path. “It will only be a short one. I have to meet with my solicitor and pay a call on the bank.”

  “When will you be leaving?”

  “In about a week. If you would want to—”

  “Thank you, but no,” she answered.

  He looked down on her and Nella met his gaze. She tried to tell if he was relieved that she was still firm in her resolve not to go to Town, or if it mattered not to him one way or the other. But she couldn’t tell.

  “If there’s anything you need, just let me know and I’ll bring it back with me.” He pressed closer. “Anything. Jewelry. Gloves. An organ grinder’s monkey.”

  Nella laughed at him and he gave a boyish grin that made her heart skip in her breast. “The last monkey I had threw me over for a chimpanzee. So no monkeys, thank you very much.”

  She leaned toward him a bit and looked up into his merry eyes. “But I would like a horse, if that’s possible.”

  “You ride?”

  The surprise on his face made her laugh. “Yes, but the horse will have to be a sturdy one to carry me.”

  He huffed, then leaned down and pressed his forehead to hers. “You are not that heavy, Nella. Any horse that can carry me, will also be able to carry you.”

  There it was again, speaking of her size with simple candor and no condemnation. His words touched her more than she could say. “If you are sure, my lord.”

  “I am.”

  And he kissed her forehead.

  Nella missed a step and tightened her grip on his arm. It was the first time he’d kissed her since that awful night of betrayal. The first kiss since they’d wed. It hadn’t been on her lips, but suddenly, that didn’t matter. He’d kissed her. And in broad daylight.

  Tears swam in her eyes and she blinked rapidly to brush them away before he saw the wetness that threatened to escape and run down her cheeks.

  “So, what plans do you have for tomorrow?” he asked.

  She coughed slightly to clear the tears from her throat.

  “I thought if the weather was nice I would walk into town. I’m anxious to see the shops. Especially the bookstore.”


  “Ah, yes. The bookstore. I should have known.” They walked a few more steps before he said, “I will accompany you, if you don’t mind.”

  She stopped. “Are you sure?”

  “Of course I’m sure.”

  He looked at her as if he couldn’t believe she doubted he’d want to accompany her.

  “Then, some day before I leave, I will take you with me to visit with the Colworth Abbey tenants.”

  “Oh yes, do!” she said excitedly. She was anxious to meet James’ tenants. Anxious to be a part of her husband’s country life.

  They were nearing home and he dropped her arm, then wrapped his arm around her waist. And pulled her closer.

  “It seems we have a busy few days ahead of us,” he said. “A trip to town, choosing the perfect horse for you, then, of course, we’ll have to take your horse out for a ride.”

  “Yes, we must,” she said as they reached home.

  How she wished life could stay like this forever. How she wished nothing would change between them, but that was not likely. Everything would change after he returned from London. After he realized how much he missed City life when he was in the country. Then, his trips to London would happen more frequently. And they would lengthen. Until he was away from her more than he was with her. And his life would not be one with her, but with numerous females fawning over him and she would be nothing more than a distant memory that he had to check in with every once in a while.

  They hadn’t discussed whether or not she expected him to be faithful, but the choice wasn’t hers to make. He would be in London and she in the country.

  Heaven help her. She wasn’t sure if she could survive if she had to share him. She wasn’t sure if she was strong enough to discover he made love to other women and pretend she didn’t care.

  Yet, the only demand she’d made of him had nothing to do with faithfulness. She would have to live with whatever happened.

  ~■~

  James sat in his study and worked on the account ledgers for the estate. Ordinarily he had no trouble at all concentrating on the task. But lately he found his mind in a war with itself. From day one, he had been determined not to regard the woman who had tricked him into a loveless marriage with anything other than courtesy and, in truth, he felt he was doing just that. It was important that he keep their relationship civil.