Chapter 4

"Why didn't you just accept the invitation? The baroness was right – these servants aren't going to know the things we like to eat. Far better to dine elsewhere until we've got things right here," Roxanna said as she returned to the drawing room a few moments later.

Dawson was watching through the window as the family departed. As they climbed into their waiting carriage, Aurelia walked behind them, lost in thought, or so it seemed. She was different from the others – withdrawn and aloof. She had barely said three words the whole time, and while Dawson had felt himself judged by the others, Aurelia had seemed as though she had already made up her mind to dislike him …

"I did accept it," Dawson said, and his sister sighed.

"You were rude – no wonder Aurelia said what she said," Roxanna replied.

Dawson turned to her and raised his eyebrows.

"I was rude? She was the one who was rude – Aurelia. Did you see the way she looked at me – when she bothered to look at me, that is," he said, shaking his head.

"I saw the way you kept looking at her," his cousin retorted, and Dawson blushed.

He did not think he had been looking at Aurelia in any particular way. Her behaviour had confused him. He had wanted to be friendly, but the arrival of their neighbours had caused him to feel inferior – what was he doing here?

"They were judging us, Roxanna. All that stuff about hunting and the "district." I don't care about any of that. A man hunts to survive, not to charge off on a horse blowing a bugle in a red coat and congratulate himself on killing some poor, defenceless creature for sport," Dawson replied.

Roxanna shook her head.

"There's a lot we'll have to get used to, Dawson. Including our neighbours. They were just being friendly. Reuben and I had a lovely conversation," she said.

Dawson smiled – he had noticed his cousin's and Reuben's obvious attraction as soon as the family arrived.

"And you said you'd never get married," he replied, raising his eyebrows.

"Oh, Dawson – a conversation hardly means wedding bells. I was just being polite, that's all. Anyway, I told them we'd be delighted to join them for dinner in the coming days – no arguments," she said, and Dawson sighed.

"Oh, Roxanna – why did you do that?" he exclaimed, but his cousin only shrugged.

"You're the gentleman. I was just trying to make sure they thought you were one," she replied.

***

"He sounded strange," Letitia said as the family rode home in their carriage from Wimbourne Hall.

"He's from Kentucky – what do you expect? All Americans sound a little odd. And I'm sure we do to him, too," the baron said.

Aurelia was sitting quietly, staring out of the carriage window. She had not enjoyed her visit to Wimbourne Hall – the new earl was a crass man with no manners. She had assumed so before, and now she knew it for certain.

"His cousin was nice enough. But I'm not sure about a man who won't hunt – an English aristocrat who doesn't hunt," Reuben said, shaking his head.

"Give him time, Reuben. He's only just arrived in our midst. I'm sure he'll soon be galloping across the countryside with you, blowing a bugle and chasing down the foxes," Aurelia's father said, and Reuben laughed.

"Yes, well, I'll give him a chance, I suppose," he replied.

Aurelia sighed. She did not know why her father was concerning himself with the new earl. It seemed a pointless exercise. Isaac was gone, and her father's loyalty to him did not owe Dawson Murphy anything.

"I think he was perfectly awful," Aurelia said, looking up at her parents, who both glanced at one another and furrowed their brows.

"Do you?" her father asked, and Aurelia nodded.

"She's just in a bad mood, Father – because you won't allow her to marry Silas," Letitia said, turning to Aurelia, who glared at her.

"That's got nothing to do with it," she replied, though she knew it had everything to do with it.

Aurelia was angry – with her family and the situation in which she found herself. Her father sighed.

"Aurelia, you really must make an effort. This must all be very strange for the new earl, and I promised Isaac I'd do all I could to help him take up his new role once he arrived in England. He might be a little different to us – uncouth, perhaps – but he's still the Earl of Wimbourne, and we owe his title respect," the baron replied.

Aurelia rolled her eyes. Respect was earned, and her first encounter with the earl had proven her assumptions correct. Aurelia did not think he would change, and she had no interest in seeing him do so – or in helping him do so.

"I owe him nothing. And if you can't respect Silas, I certainly won't be respecting the rancher from Kentucky. I want nothing to do with him," Aurelia replied, folding her arms and returning her gaze to the window.

"She's just bitter, Father," Letitia said, and Aurelia jabbed her sister hard in the ribs.

"Enough. Please, my nerves won't stand it," their mother said, shaking her head, as the carriage drove on …

***

The next day, having passed a restless night in an unfamiliar bed, Dawson came down to breakfast, pausing in the hallway to gaze up at the portrait of his Great Uncle Isaac. He regretted never having met him, and he wondered what the former earl had thought when he realized where the inheritance would go.

"I doubt he was pleased to think a rancher from Kentucky was to inherit all this," Dawson thought, looking around and shaking his head.

He was still not used to the idea that this – all of this – was his. He was the Earl of Wimbourne, but as for what that meant – what it really meant – Dawson was uncertain. Other aristocrats spent their whole lives preparing for the role they would acquire at the point of its holder's death, but Dawson had had no time to prepare, and now he was wondering if his decision to leave Kentucky so quickly had been rash.

"Did you sleep well? My bed was so comfortable, and the maid looked after me very well," Roxanna said, appearing on the landing above and smiling down at him.

Dawson nodded, still looking up at Isaac's portrait and wondering if he could ever live up to the expectations now placed on him.

"I'm glad to hear it," he said as his cousin came down the stairs.

"What's wrong, Dawson? You barely said a word at dinner last night, and now you're brooding," Roxanna said, slipping her arm in Dawson's.

He turned to her and shook his head.

"Look at me, Roxanna. I'm no earl. I don't dress like one, I don't behave like one, and I don't want to be one. I came to England because … well, because I thought I could leave my troubles behind in Kentucky. But now I'm here, I think I'm going to find myself with a whole new set of problems to face," Dawson said.

Had it not been for the threats and rumours, Dawson knew he would not have rushed into doing what he had done. He would have thought about what moving halfway across the world to a country he had never visited might actually be like. His cousin squeezed his arm.

"It'll be all right. We only got here yesterday. Unpack your books and all those strange instruments you tinker with – you'll feel better then. And make an effort with our neighbours. They were just being friendly. We'll go to dinner with them, and you'll see – it's not as bad as you think. I like England – it's nowhere near as hot as Kentucky," she said.

Dawson laughed. He liked the heat, and if this was what counted as an English summer, Dawson knew he was not looking forward to winter…

"I suppose so," he said, and his cousin smiled.

"Be patient. Coming to a new place is always strange – and this is certainly a new place. For us both. But you'll get used to it," he said.

"But am I running away from the past?" Dawson asked, for despite being thousands of miles away from Kentucky, Dawson was still worried about who was threatening him back on the ranch.

Before they had left, more fences had been damaged, and one of the outlying barns had been set on fire. Dawson had left without knowing who had a grudge against him, and if that grudge was to follow him to England, it could prove disastrous …

"Forget the past, Dawson. This is a chance for a new start. For us both. I'll stay and help you settle in, and then I'll head off on my grand tour. It's exciting, don't you think?" she said, and Dawson nodded.

"I still think you'll find it difficult – women in England don't just set off on their own adventures, you know," he said, but Roxanna waved her hand dismissively.

"Nonsense – I'm not a woman from England, am I? Besides, I mentioned it to Reuben yesterday. Perhaps he'll come with me," she said, raising her eyebrows and smiling.

As she went to breakfast, Dawson remained standing in front of his great uncle's portrait. He had convinced himself he had done the wrong thing in coming to England, yet what choice did he have but to take up the mantle now entrusted to him? He was the Earl of Wimbourne, whether he acknowledged it or not. The coming days and weeks would not be easy, and Dawson now thought longingly of his ranch, with its wide open spaces and endless skies.

"What I wouldn't give for one more ride along the trail," he thought, as now he followed Roxanna into the dining room for breakfast.