Chapter Three

Temperance hummed quietly to herself as she made her way down the familiar path from the estate to the cliffs. Her uncle, Lord Hartford, had taken great care to show her the way when she had first arrived at the estate, telling her that he often found great solace there and thinking that she might find the same.

How right he had been.

She smiled to herself, thinking of her uncle and wondering when he might return from the continent. He had been gone some months now, though his letters assured both herself and her aunt that all was well – and that his interests abroad were doing very well indeed. Both he and her aunt had encouraged her love of sketching, drawing and painting in a way that no-one else ever had, insisting that she purchase whatever she required and with her uncle firm in his resolve that he would pay for it. How grateful she was to them both for the love they had shown her, as well as their gentle understanding. It was clear to Temperance that her own parents – her mother especially – did not seem to understand just how much sorrow and pain she still bore from her scar. Her mother’s urging to return to London had been difficult for Temperance to hear. Did her mother not realize what society would think of Temperance and her outward appearance? Did she not see that there would be nothing but whispers and rumors flying around the ton about her? Was she truly so desperate for Temperance to marry that she would force her back into London society?

She cannot force me, Temperance told herself, aware of the slight trembling which ran through her. I will not go, no matter how hard she tries.

A little breathless from the quick walk she had taken, Temperance paused at her favorite spot, catching her breath and looking out towards the sea. She stood at the lowest point of the cliffs, the shore beneath her, though her uncle had warned her never to climb down to the shore from this part. Instead, there was a path a little further along the way which Temperance took sometimes. But not today. Smiling to herself, Temperance sat down on a large rock which, she sometimes thought, had been placed there by God himself, knowing that she would one day use it to sit on so she might draw, and took out her paper and pencil.

Her eyes searched the horizon, taking everything in and then, she let herself begin to draw freely. There was a darkness to the sea today which caught her attention. Some parts danced with light as the sunshine bounced from the tops of the waves and the breakers, whereas most of it held a strength of deep color which she could not help but take note of. She sketched quickly and carefully, already eager to return home and begin to paint this very scene. She wanted to remember all of it, wanted to take in every part and thus, she made every single press of her pencil with great care and precision. Her lips pressed tight together as she gave all of her concentration to her sketch, hearing the cry of the wheeling gulls above her head, mixing together with the crash of the waves beneath. The sketch quickly came together and Temperance offered it a small smile. She was pleased with what she had captured, all too aware of how quickly the landscape could change and just how much of it she could miss if she was not hasty enough.

Rising to her feet, Temperance placed her pencil back in her pocket, ready to return to the house and begin painting, only for a sudden gust of wind to snatch the paper from her hand.

“No!” Temperance rushed after her paper, her heart pounding furiously. Already, the sky and the sea had changed and if she were to lose that paper, she would not be able to keep a hold of the scene in her mind for long enough to paint it. The wind teased her, pulling the paper away from her grasping fingers and then letting it fall again, letting it settle on the grass for only a few moments before tugging it away again. Temperance stumbled a little, her mouth going dry as she thought of the paper being pulled into the sea, losing it forever. Her art was her only passion, the only thing which made her heart sing and her spirits lift. Others might say that it was only a sketch but to Temperance, it was of great importance.

“Please!” she cried aloud, as though the wind might listen to her and stop what it was doing. Instead, it ignored her cries, pulling the paper down over the edge of the cliff and down towards the shore. Her heart in her throat, Temperance made her way to the edge, looking down helplessly, watching as the paper dropped lower and lower… only to snag against a piece of driftwood which stuck out from between the rocks and stones which lined the top of the shore.

She hesitated.

The path which led down to the shore was much further along the cliffs and if she were to take that, if she were to make her way there and, thereafter, hurry back towards the paper, then she had very little hope of finding it again. The wind, in all its mischief, would have taken it away from her again and, no doubt, flung it onto the soggy sand or the sea itself and then what would she do?

Temperance swallowed tightly, then began to descend. This was the lowest part of the cliff face but all the same, it was not as though there was a simple path for her to follow. Instead, there were jagged rocks, sometimes hidden by the outcrops of earth and green grass which she stepped onto cautiously. Thereafter, large boulders greeted her, smaller rocks in between them and, once she had climbed over them, smaller stones and even pebbles which slipped beneath her feet.

Temperance let out a gasp of fright as she wheeled back, her arms spread wide, her hands reaching for something – anything to find. There were a few feet of a somewhat steep descent still to make and if she were to fall…

“Ho! You there! Whatever do you think you are doing?”

Temperance started in fright, having never once expected to hear someone else shouting through the wind. She could not even turn her head, ending up falling back and sitting down heavily rather than falling forward. Her body cried out in pain, her skirts putting only a little softness between her skin and the rocks, though she did not let a single sound come out of her mouth.

My sketch!

“Whatever are you doing?” the voice said again – but Temperance ignored it. Rising to her feet, she kept her attention fixed to her sketch. The driftwood still held it fast, though the edges fluttered in the ever-present wind. With urgent feet – but feet which still slipped across the stones and pebbles – Temperance made for it, her worry pushing her into a faster pace than she ought otherwise to have gone. With a cry of relief, she caught up her sketch, holding it fast, only for her feet to slip again. Letting out a cry, she half fell, half ran down the remaining stones to the shore. She did not think she could stop, her eyes wide, the wind whipping at her hair and her skin… and then something solid stopped her.

“Ho, there!”

Her breath ran out of her body as she blinked furiously, only to look to make quite certain that her sketch was safe in her hands. Sagging with relief, Temperance closed her eyes, only to then realize that whatever had stopped her was still very much present.

“Are you quite all right?”

A flare of fright rushed up Temperance’s spine and she quickly turned her head away, hiding her scarred cheek from this somewhat imposing gentleman. “Yes, I thank you.” Her voice was quiet but she focused on folding her sketch back into her book. “The wind stole something from me and it was imperative I found it again. I was afraid it would be taken to the sea.”

“You ought not to have climbed down that way,” came the reply and this time, Temperance dared a glance at her unexpected companion. Her stomach twisted, her heart pounding rather furiously as she looked into the gentleman’s face and saw the deep frown which settled across his forehead. There was a rather serious expression etched there, his hazel eyes fixed and firm as they looked back at her, dark hair over his forehead though his hat, despite the wind, remained quite steady. Temperance looked away again, taking a step away from him.

“As I have said, I was afraid that it would be taken to the sea and I would have lost it forever,” she answered, afraid now that this fellow might be someone nefarious and all too aware that she was standing alone with him on the otherwise deserted beach. “I thank you for your help.”

Much to her surprise, the fellow took off his hat and, just as any gentleman of the ton might, bowed very low indeed.

“But of course. I am only glad that you did not fall and hurt yourself! I presume whatever you took back from the wind is now safely secured?”

Temperance nodded, making sure to keep her scarred side of her face away from him. “I have. “

“Very good. Then might I escort you back?” He offered her his arm but Temperance quickly shook her head. This fellow, whoever he was, was certainly dressed as a gentleman but that did not mean that he truly was one. She did not know his name and certainly could not guess at his motivation and thus, refrained from accepting his company.

“I am well able to make my way back to my aunt’s house alone, I thank you.” She took another step back. “I have lived here for a long time and am well acquainted with the path.”

“Then I am surprised you did not take it as you came down,” he said, not offering her a single hint of a smile. “Did you say that your aunt’s house is nearby?”

“I did not but yes, it is,” Temperance answered, making another step away from him. “Lord and Lady Hartford?” She lifted her chin, thinking to herself that to mention the name of the Viscount Hartford would mean something to this fellow. Mayhap he would be more cautious in approaching her if he knew that she was highly connected. Much to her surprise, however, the gentleman’s expression cleared and he smiled, suddenly.

His expression transformed. Instead of a frown sending shadows into his eyes, there was a brightness there which filled his entire expression. His hazel eyes seemed a good deal more vivid and even his cheeks seemed to fill with a little more color.

“Ah, how wonderful! I am very glad to hear that the Viscount and Lady Hartford are still present here.” He bowed suddenly, then stepped closer to her. “Did you say she was your aunt? Then you must tell them both how eager I am to see them again – my mother will be eager for a reunion also! It has been some years since we have been able to return to the manor house here but now that we have come back, I am hopeful that previous connections can be reestablished.”

Temperance blinked in surprise, though she still did not turn fully towards him. The moment she did so, Temperance was certain that shock would replace the evident happiness in the gentleman’s expression and nothing but mortification would fill her. “My uncle is away on business in the continent,” she said slowly, as the gentleman nodded. “My aunt is still at home, however. Might I ask as to whom I should say is eager to speak with her again?”

The gentleman dashed one hand over his forehead. “But of course. Forgive me, I have not yet introduced myself. Goodness, I am not as improper as I appear, I promise you!” He smiled again, then inclined his head one more time. “The Earl of Calverton. My mother is Lady Calverton, and I am certain she will be utterly delighted to see Lady Hartford again. It will mean a great deal to her.”

“I – I am glad to hear it.” A little uncertain as to what to say, Temperance dropped her head, keeping her gaze on the book of sketches she had in her hand.

“Are you certain I cannot escort you?” he asked, as Temperance quickly shook her head. “The path is rather far away and – ”

“I have walked this way many times,” Temperance told him, relieved now that she could take her leave of him. “Do excuse me, Lord Calverton. I will, of course, pass on your words of greeting to my aunt.”

“And I will tell my mother of Lady Hartford’s presence also,” came the reply. “A pleasure to meet you, Miss…” A frown flickered across his forehead, stealing his smile away. “I realise now that I do not yet know your title, my lady. Might I ask for it?”

Letting out a slow sigh as urgency pushed her away from him, Temperance forced a small smile. “Lady Temperance, my lord. My father is the Duke of Danfield.”

Lord Calverton blinked. “I see.”

He did not smile and Temperance flushed hot, despite the chill in the wind. Did he know of what had happened to her? Had her name brought about a flash of understanding as he recalled whom she had once been engaged to?

“I should return now,” she murmured, making her way back towards the path which led a winding way up the cliffs. “Do excuse me, Lord Calverton.”

“Good afternoon, Lady Temperance.”

Temperance scurried away as fast as she dared, without making it appear as though she were hurrying away from him. Her face grew hotter still as she wondered if he were watching her, afraid now that he would be gazing after her with the realization as to why she had hidden her face from him. Making her way to the path, Temperance paused for a moment to catch her breath, all thoughts of her sketch and her upcoming painting now gone from her. That had been a most unexpected meeting and, all of a sudden, she felt herself unsettled and filled with concern rather than the quiet happiness which had filled her as she had sketched. A good deal more slowly now, Temperance made her way up the cliff path, daring a glance back over her shoulder as she climbed. Lord Calverton was still walking along the shoreline, though away from her rather than coming back towards the path. Feeling a little more secure now, Temperance slowed her steps even more, considering him and their strange introduction. He appeared to be a somewhat serious gentleman given his demeanor and his expression, though that had lifted for a few moments when he had learned who her aunt was.

I do not think that I will be often in his company, she thought to herself, comforted by the thought. His mother can visit my aunt and I am certain that my presence will not be required. Nodding to herself, Temperance made her way back along the top of the cliffs towards the house, doing her best to turn her thoughts towards her sketch rather than Lord Calverton. Her breathing still quickened from her ascent and her walk back towards the house, Temperance shook her head hard, for no other reason than to clear that gentleman out of her mind. By the time she had arrived home, however, she had still not succeeded.