Chapter Thirteen

"I much prefer comfort to speed," Lady Lu declared to her husband and son, who had suggested they take the train from London to Liverpool, where James Hamilton kept a small yacht to transport his family to Ireland.

"It would cut a day from our traveling time," James pointed out.

"Train travel is dirty, noisy, and uncomfortable. Sitting on wooden seats for hours on end would put my bum to sleep. On top of that, we would have to stop over in Birmingham. . . . Birmingham , for God's sake! A fate for more courageous souls than me."

Abercorn laughed and graciously conceded. "I shall go immediately and arrange for two Berlin coaches with post-horses we can exchange in Oxford and Stafford. Riley can drive one, and the coaching company will provide a professional driver for the second."

"I'll come with you, Father," young James offered. "I want to make sure the driver can spit through his front teeth, so he can teach me the skill."

"See? We will all be happier if we take the road. We'll spend the first night in Oxford, your old prowling grounds. Coach travel allows us to stop anytime to stretch our legs, dine at charming village inns, or do some sightseeing if the fancy takes us. Early August is the ideal time to enjoy England's lovely countryside."

Harry arose from the breakfast table. "I'll go and finish my packing." She hoped she sounded casual, though inside she was bubbling with excitement. If Father changes the post-horses in Stafford, that's where we will stay overnight. I shall be able to visit Shugborough Hall and wander about the grounds to my heart's content.

Upstairs, Harry found Jane doing her own packing. Her sister kept stealing glances at her and a strange silence stretched between them. "Is something bothering you, Jane?"

"I might as well confess, Harry. It's my fault that D'Arcy proposed to Trixy instead of you. She confided to me that she was in love with D'Arcy. So at Mother's birthday celebration I sang Trixy's praises to him, and told him she had lost her heart to him. I revealed that Trixy was over the moon when you were being courted by Thomas Anson, because she thought that D'Arcy would pay court to her."

Harry hid her amusement. "The whole thing was a conspiracy against me. If you hadn't opened D'Arcy's eyes to Trixy's obsession with him, I would have been his bride."

"Can you ever forgive me, Harry?" Jane implored.

"Time heals all wounds," Harry said with a straight face. "Ask me again tomorrow." Unable to contain her amusement longer, she threw back her head and laughed.

"You're not heartbroken?"

"Jane, men are like hansom cabs. If you miss one, another will be along directly."

Jane looked puzzled. "Men remind you of hansom cabs?"

I'll never ride in a hansom cab again without remembering Thomas Anson's kisses.

"If females wore men's trousers when they were traveling, there would be much more room in carriages." Harry moved over to make room for her little sister Maud.

"It would cause a scandal. Queen Victoria would never approve," Rachel said.

"Mmm, I'm almost tempted," Lady Lu said irreverently. She lifted Maud onto her knee so she could look out the window.

"When we get to Barons Court, I shall purloin a pair of my brother's riding breeches," Harry said decisively. "The Irish are very accepting."

"Your father is Irish, but I doubt if he would accept it," her mother said.

"Where is Daddy?" Maud asked.

"He's riding in the other carriage this afternoon, so that your brothers will behave themselves. About now, he's likely cursing me for refusing to go by train."

Harry winked at Rachel. "He looked happy enough last night in Oxford when the two of you came back from your moonlight stroll."

The Duchess of Abercorn smiled her secret smile.

Harry glanced out the window at the lovely green meadows with their flower-filled hedgerows. "The countryside is so pretty, we must be in Staffordshire."

"Yes, thank heaven we have left the industrial Midlands behind. The manufacturing towns fill England's coffers, but they certainly detract from our country's beauty."

"Maud, would you like to come and sit on my knee? Let's see if we can spot any black-and-white sheepdogs in the fields," Harry suggested.

"I think we should have a day of leisure tomorrow, before proceeding on to Liverpool. Your father and the boys could go fishing in the River Trent, and I'd love to explore Lichfield. The shops are bound to have some lovely Staffordshire pottery, and the cathedral is reputed to be the most beautiful in all of England."

"That's a splendid idea," Harry agreed. "By the time we reach Stafford, there will only be time to have dinner at the posting inn and go to bed." Tomorrow, I intend to take a look at Shugborough Hall. I fell in love with it a decade ago and I am curious to find out if I still feel the same way.

Thomas Anson spent the day making the rounds of Shugborough's tenant farms. He had supped with the head steward, Ramsey, last night. The man had seemed anxious about the Earl of Lichfield's demise, and Thomas realized that keeping his position as steward was uppermost in his mind. Ramsey seemed like an honest, decent fellow, but Thomas had decided to question the tenant farmers about him. Today, he was relieved that he'd heard no complaints about the steward. If the farmers had been unhappy with the steward, Thomas would have sent him packing. Tonight, I'll tell Ramsey that his job will be secure when I inherit Shugborough.

After dinner, Thomas planned to go over the books. The spring sheep shearing had produced more wool than last year, and he hoped the profits would cover any repairs needed to the farmhouses and pay for the maintenance of Shugborough. The hall had eighty chimneys, and every year at least a few needed new bricks and mortar.

Tomorrow he intended to visit with some of his constituents and tell them that he had procured funding from Parliament to build another new school in the county, and also erect some additional wool-storage sheds along the Staffordshire canal.

As he rode toward the hall in the late afternoon, his thoughts returned to the dilemma his father had created. The old swine had demanded that he wed an heiress, but the only woman Thomas desired was Lady Harriet Hamilton. Now that she was beyond his reach, he would have to look elsewhere, no matter how unpalatable. He was well aware that many wealthy families were eager to exchange a large dowry for a title, but such a solution made his gorge rise.

As Shugborough came into view, he set aside his worries. He was determined to take pleasure in his beloved hall, while he had the chance. All too soon he would be back in London, trying to solve his problems. He thought of Fowler and cursed. The first thing I shall do when I return to London is hire a personal attorney of my own.

Thomas noticed a lady's saddle horse tied to a tree, cropping the grass on the lawn.

Then he saw a female standing before the house, looking up at it. As he rode closer, he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him. He dismounted and strode toward her.

"Harry! What the devil are you doing here?"

"Thomas!" Her gasp told him that she had not expected to see him. "I . . . We . . . are on our way to Ireland."

He could not control his emotions. Anger flared in him. He closed the distance between them and towered above her. "Why the hellfire did you marry D'Arcy Lambton? You know damn well you don't love him!"

He saw her pale green eyes widen. "I didn't marry D'Arcy. My sister Beatrix is his blushing bride."

For a moment he thought she was taunting him with a cruel jest. Then slowly the miraculous news that she was not married penetrated his brain. She's not going to Ireland on her honeymoon; she's going with her family!

His spirits soared. This lovely creature before me is the answer to all my problems. The gods are giving me a second chance. All I have to do is woo her and win her.

"We are staying at the Stafford inn, and I couldn't resist a visit to Shugborough when the opportunity presented itself. Early tomorrow we leave for Liverpool."

This is kismet. "Harry, it's a delightful coincidence that we are here at the same time. Let me give you the grand tour." He reached out to take her hand, but rather than respond, she pulled away slightly. It was a protective gesture, as if she was fearful that he might hurt her. He was wildly curious about what had happened between her and D'Arcy. If Lambton has caused her pain, I will take a horsewhip to the son of a bitch and thrash him within an inch of his life. His instinct told him now was not the time to question her.

"May I visit the walled garden first, while it's bathed in sunlight?"

Her request sounds like a timid plea, as if she is apprehensive I won't grant her wish. "That's a perfect place to start." Where the devil is the audacious baggage that issued her imperious orders with the confidence of an empress?

Thomas led the way around to the rear of Shugborough. As they crossed the velvet lawn, Harry stopped in her tracks. "It looks different without the lovely marble statues."

"Indeed it does."

"I remember Venus, and I particularly remember admiring Adonis. Though at the time I had no idea he was the Grecian god of desire."

"Harry, you're blushing." Judas, I never saw you blush before.

Harriet's dark lashes swept down to her cheeks, and Thomas had an overwhelming urge to protect her. However, he knew that if he tried to put his arm about her, she would reject it. "I am determined to find out who owns the statues, and I have every intention of buying them back in the future."

"I hope you get them back, Thomas. This is where they rightfully belong."

When they arrived at the arched wooden door in the high wall, he turned the iron key and they stepped into the garden.

As he watched her, she suddenly became transformed. Her face suffused with joy and her self-consciousness vanished as if the sun had melted it.

"Oh, it's magic!" The brilliant sunlight shining through the cascading water of the fountain produced a dazzling rainbow. Harry ran forward and tried to capture the colorful mirage in her hands. She laughed with delight when the rainbow appeared on her arms.

She spun about to face Thomas. "I can smell jasmine and honeysuckle. But the garden is such a blaze of flowers, I can't see the honeysuckle."

"It's over there, climbing the wall. It usually blooms in the spring. It must be another fragrant flower you can smell. There are dozens of herbaceous plants that attract bees and butterflies."

"You are wrong. I know honeysuckle when I smell it." Harry ran to the wall, and to her amazement, the vines had no flowers because they had turned to berries. She ran back to Thomas. "When I was a child, this place enchanted me. All I have to do is picture this walled garden in my imagination and I can smell jasmine and honeysuckle."

"You can smell it now because it lingers in your memory."

Suddenly Harry felt mischievous. She pulled up her sleeve to display her tattoo, which had ignited his temper when he had discovered it. "The last time I was in this garden, a hawk swooped down and captured a little green snake. I screamed, and the raptor dropped it and flew off. The snake slithered away, and I was infused with happiness that I had saved its life." She waved her arm beneath his nose, much as she had done the day they had quarreled. "My little green snake is a memento of this lovely walled garden, one that I will carry with me forever."

"Then I offer you my sincere apology. I was wrong to object so furiously when it obviously brings you pleasure, Harry."

"I've kept it covered up all this time. But from now on, the world can go to the devil. I shall display it with pride."

"You are an incorrigible baggage, Harry Hamilton."

She laughed up at him. "Flattery, begod! Take me to the Tower of Winds."

The moment they entered the tower, with its diamond-shaped openings cut high into its walls, Harry stared in horror. "Where are the centaurs?"

"Sold, like every other Shugborough treasure."

"Oh, Thomas. That is desecration. You must get them back."

"I will. All it takes is money." He looked down at her ruefully. "If I had my way, I would have chosen to be born filthy rich, instead of devastatingly handsome."

Harry threw back her head and laughed. "You are always so staid and serious, and then out of nowhere you reveal that wicked sense of humor."

He threw her a speculative glance. "So, what made you decide against marrying Lambton?"

"Oh, it wasn't just D'Arcy. I've decided against marrying anyone. At least until I fall in love. I won't settle for anything less than a love match. My father loves my mother to distraction, and that's exactly what I want." She smiled with delight as she heard the music of the wind. "Rachel has waited until she is twenty-eight before finding a man who loves and adores her. And I'll wait that long too, if I have to."

Thomas felt his hopes floating out of his grasp on the summer breeze. Harry may not be in love with me, but she feels passionate about Shugborough. "Come, let me take you into the hall."

He led her to the front of the mansion, instinctively realizing that Harry would wish to make her entrance through the impressive grand portico. They went up the steps, and Harriet reached out her hand to reverently caress one of the massive Doric columns.

"The house is encased in slate. It has been sanded to look like stone."

"How unusual. I always sensed that Shugborough was unique."

He opened the heavy oak front door and they walked slowly through the vaulted reception hall. "Many of the rooms were designed by architect Thomas Wright. Both the dining room and the library boast his elaborate rococo plasterwork. But fifty years later, architect Sam Wyatt redesigned Shugborough in the elegant neoclassical style."

Harry's eyes shone with admiration. "I am familiar with Sam Wyatt's work. I have many books filled with drawings of houses that he designed."

"Some of which came from Shugborough's library," he teased.

"Yes. Now that you remind me, I believe they were yours before they were mine." She searched his face. "I'm sorry, Thomas. I know how you cherished Shugborough's treasures."

"It's less painful knowing they belong to someone who appreciates them. Here is the library. Though it has many empty bookshelves, it is a room where a few prized artifacts that were not sold at the auction are displayed."

Harry gazed at a huge glass cabinet. "Oh, it's the figurehead of a ship!" The carved wooden female had luscious breasts and long swirling hair. "She's magnificent."

"It's from the Centurion , Admiral George Anson's ship." He pointed to a weapon sheathed in an ornate scabbard. "That is the sword that the captain surrendered to my famous ancestor when he captured the Spanish treasure ship."

"How fascinating." She pointed to a gold coin that lay beside the sword. "Is that a Spanish doubloon?"

"Yes. It's the only one that's left. The largest amount of gold ever seized for the Crown of England came from the Spanish galleon Admiral Anson captured. Records say that it took thirty-two large wagons to transport all the treasure."

Harry heard a loud, plaintive meow. She looked down and saw a gray Persian cat rubbing itself against his ankles. Thomas bent down and scooped it up in his arms, and it immediately began to purr. "This is Kouli-Khan, thought to be bred from the admiral's cat that sailed around the world with him. There is a Cat's Monument dedicated to the first Kouli-Khan, on a small island beyond the Chinese pagoda."

"She's a beauty." She stroked the Persian cat's head and she purred even louder. "That's a charming story. Everything about Shugborough is warm and inviting."

Thomas led the way to an elegantly furnished drawing room. "I have managed to restore all the furnishings in this room that were sold at the auction a decade ago. I just hung those two paintings last night. They are landscapes by Claude. I had to twist the owner's arm a little, but he eventually succumbed to my persuasion."

Harry glanced at her companion. Though his words were spoken softly, his dark eyes and sharp cheekbones hinted that his methods of persuasion could be ruthless if he wanted something. In that moment she knew that if Thomas Anson set his mind to attain something, nothing would stop him. She had no doubt that he would restore Shugborough's treasures, no matter the cost.

She noticed a painting by the doorway that stood against the wall. "You forgot to hang this one."

"No, I just took it down. I don't want it staring at me. It's a portrait of my father."

Harry studied the portrait in disbelief. It showed a portly man who was fair, with a florid face. "Your father? You look nothing like him. . . . There is no resemblance whatsoever."

"I warrant that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me, Harry." He changed the subject. "This house has three stories. It would take a week to show you through every chamber. But since you like warm and inviting, why don't I take you to the kitchens?"

"Lead on, Macduff."

The kitchens were vast and spotlessly clean.

"This is my cook, Mrs. Stearn. This is a special friend, Lady Harriet Hamilton."

The cook bobbed Harry a curtsy. "Welcome to Shugborough Hall, my lady."

"You must be baking bread, Mrs. Stearn. It smells delicious."

"I've just taken it from the oven. It's on a cooling rack by the window."

Thomas saw the yearning look on Harry's face. "Are you hungry?

That's a silly question—you are always hungry. Sit down, and we will break bread together." First he poured two mugs of ale from a stone jug. "We brew our own. You'll love it."

Next, Thomas cut two thick slices from a freshly baked loaf of wheaten bread, spread them with homemade butter, then picked up a wooden honeypot.

Harry's eyes lit up. "Don't tell me. . . . Shugborough has its own beehives."

"How did you guess?" He set the ale and the bread before her and sat down across the table from her. "This calls for a toast."

She picked up her mug. "I'll give you an Irish toast:

Here's to yous, and here's to me,

And if someday we disagree,

Sod yous! Here's to me. "

Harry took a long swig, then licked the foam from her top lip.

For once, Thomas allowed his amusement to show.

"What? No reprimand for my audacity, Lord Anson?"

"Not today, Harry. I welcome your irreverence."

The bread and honey tasted delicious, and she closed her eyes in ecstasy. When she swallowed the last morsel, she sighed with repletion and licked her fingers.

Before they left the kitchens, Harry saw a bucket of sand and asked its purpose.

"It's in case of fire. I have a mortal dread of it." He led the way and pointed out the servants' quarters, then showed her the long gallery, the ballroom, reading rooms, sitting rooms, as well as a couple of guest suites with their private breakfast rooms and bathrooms. Many of the chambers were devoid of furniture, but the rooms he had restored were elegant and in exquisite taste.

Harry glanced from a window and saw the sun was much lower in the sky. "I hate to leave, but I must." I could stay here forever. "Thank you for the lovely tour."

"We have nine hundred acres out there to explore."

"And I long to see every one of them, but it is impossible today," she said wistfully.

"Come, I'll ride out to the gate with you."

When they got as far as the pillared portico, Harry stopped to admire the view. Formal terraces, framed by borders of lavender and roses, stretched out before her, filling her senses. "Shugborough is absolute perfection."

"It will be, before I'm finished."

Thomas lifted her into her saddle. He did not dare let his hands linger, or he would have swept her into his arms and carried her to his bed.

"You always ride a black hunter. What is this one's name?"

"Nemesis. He is from the same mare as Victorious."

"What a perfect name. Nemesis means a victorious rival!"

He mounted Nemesis, and they rode side by side along the river, where swans and other waterfowl made their home. "In spring, this riverside garden is a mass of daffodils." They arrived at the wrought iron gates and silence stretched between them.

"What really happened between you and D'Arcy?" He searched her face with dark eyes. "He didn't hurt you, did he, Harry?"

She saw the suppressed violence in his face.

"No, no," she denied quickly. "It was his wealth. I couldn't bear the thought of being supported by money that was earned on the back of Durham's coal miners."

"I'm glad that was the reason." Their eyes met. "Now I don't have to kill him."

As Harry rode away, her heart was singing. It wasn't only seeing Shugborough again that had made her happy; it was encountering Thomas. He was the most physically attractive male she had ever known, and he had made it clear he was still interested in wooing her. When I return to London, I know he will call on me and try to take up where we left off. Is it possible that Thomas is in love with me? Harry shivered with excitement. He'll have to give me proof before I accept his proposal of marriage.