Jane Feather: Valentine

And so they were in all essentials, he quieted his conscience.

Elinor was silent for a minute, regarding her visitor gravely. His cool gray eyes returned her scrutiny without flickering. There was a restlessness, a pent-up tension in the man, almost like an aura. And something else… some pain, she thought, deep inside him. He had the Gilbraith look – lean features, strong jaw, well-shaped mouth, and the physique of an athlete… a man who took care of himself.

Elinor realized as she took inventory that she was responding to Sylvester Gilbraith as a man – a fiercely attractive man, despite the scar. When had she last recognized a man's sexual attraction?

It shocked her and she stood up abruptly, turning her back on her visitor as she pretended to search for something in her desk.

What kind of husband would he make? Gentle… generous? Not gentle, she decided. Not a husband for Clarissa.

But maybe for Theo. Theo, who'd twisted the gouty, irascible old earl around her little finger. Theo was not intimidated by strong men; indeed, she would not be happy with anyone who always deferred to her own powerful will. She could well become distinctly shrewish, if her challenges went ignored. Elinor couldn't suppress a half smile. A shrewish Theo was not to be contemplated.

And as Lady Stoneridge, she wouldn't lose her beloved house and estate. The earl's proposal was not an outlandish suggestion; such marriages were often arranged in entail situations, and the kinship was so distant there could be no bar there.

But could Theo be brought to accept a hated Gilbraith, even with such powerful inducements?

Elinor turned back to the earl. He'd taken a seat beside the window during her cogitations, and she was pleased to see that he knew when to curb his impatience.

"If you wish to press your suit with my daughter Theo, my lord, you have my approval," she said formally.

Sylvester frowned. "I had thought to address Lady Clarissa, ma'am. She is the elder, it seems only appropriate."

"Maybe so, but you and Clarissa would not suit, sir."

Sylvester absorbed this firm statement in frowning silence before saying, "Forgive me, Lady Belmont, but since I haven't had the honor of meeting Lady Theodora, I don't know how to answer you."

"No, it's most vexing, I agree," Elinor said. "But Theo doesn't bend easily, to my will or anyone else's. However, you'll meet her shortly. You'll find her knowledge of the estate useful to you. She knows more than the bailiff about most matters and has had the management of the estate in her hands since she was seventeen. My father-in-law trusted her judgment implicitly."

"An unusual young woman." Sylvester contented himself with the dry comment.

Elinor smiled. "Something of an understatement, Lord Stoneridge."

"Why is she called Theo?" he asked abruptly. "Thea, I would expect. But Theo is a boy's name."

"She was always an intrepid child, much more interested in a boy's pursuits. Her father always called her Theo… the son he never had."

A strong-willed, managing, tomboy hoyden! Dear God, what was he getting himself into?

"I can't wait to meet her," he murmured.

"Has he gone?" Theo stuck her head round the corner of the door, keeping the rest of her on the terrace.

"No, he's with Mama," Emily said. "You really are too bad, Theo. Mama is so vexed that you weren't here."

"He's very toplofty," Clarissa said. "He looks as if there's a permanent bad smell under his nose." She offered an imitation of the earl, wrinkling her small nose.

Theo chuckled. "Well, I think I'll go back to the stables until he leaves."

"You will not." Emily moved with surprising speed for such a decorous young woman. She caught her sister's wrist and pulled her into the drawing room. They were engaged in a spirited tussle when the hall door opened to admit their mother and the Earl of Stoneridge.

"Emily… Theo!" Lady Belmont exclaimed.

Emily flushed, dropping her sister's wrist. Theo, who was still laughing, turned toward the door, an apology on her lips.

But both laughter and apology died. "You!" She formed the word without speaking it as she stared at the tall figure of Sylvester Gilbraith behind her mother.

"Well… well…," Sylvester murmured, advancing into the room. "I believe you must be my missing cousin, Lady Theodora." He bowed, mockery glittering in his eyes. "What a surprise. You're quite an actress, cousin."

Theo ignored his outstretched hand. "And you are no gentleman, sir. But I would hardly have expected anything else from a Gilbraith."

Sylvester drew a sharp breath, but Elinor spoke before he could respond. "I don't know what you're talking about, Theo, but your rudeness is inexcusable. Lord Stoneridge is our guest -"

"Hardly that, Mama," Theo broke in, her face white with anger, her eyes blue-black. "I believe we are Lord Stoneridge's guests. If you'll excuse me, I have pressing business elsewhere." She spun on her heel, brushing past Sylvester, dusting off her sleeve where it had touched him, an expression of acute distaste on her face.

"Theo!" Elinor took a step forward, but Sylvester held up a hand.

"I think this is mine to deal with, ma'am," he said, tight-lipped, two spots of color burning on his cheekbones.

Elinor hesitated; then she made a tiny gesture of acknowledgment, and Lord Stoneridge strode out of the drawing room in pursuit of his cousin.

"What's going on?" Bewildered, Clarissa looked after his lordship. "Have they already met?"

"It would seem so," Elinor said, calmly taking up her embroidery.

"But… but Theo never said." Emily ran to the window, looking anxiously across the lawn as if expecting to see a scene of violent mayhem. "How could you let him go after her, Mama? He looked ready to murder her."

"I could cheerfully wring her neck myself," Elinor responded. "I am strongly of the opinion that your sister and Sylvester Gilbraith will be very good for each other."

"What do you mean?"

Elinor smiled, threading her needle with a crimson thread. "His lordship had a proposition to put to me…"

Theo had reached the first landing when Sylvester caught up with her. She turned at bay, her stance apparently relaxed, but he could read her readiness in every muscle.

"You wish to take inventory of the bedrooms, my lord. Don't let me stand in your way," she said through her teeth.

"You're not in my way in the least," he replied, his anger as high and as visible in eye and mouth as Theo's. He moved toward her.

She shifted her stance, her hands hanging loose at her sides, her eyes fixed on his face.

"You won't manage it twice, gypsy," he said quietly. "This time I'm ready for you."

"You take one step closer, my lord, and you'll go down those stairs on your back," she said as softly as he. "And with any luck you'll break your neck in the process."

He shook his head. "I don't deny your skill, but mine is as good, and I have the advantage of size and strength." He saw the acknowledgment leap into her eyes, but her position didn't change.

"Let's have done with this," he said sharply. "I'm prepared to forget that silly business by the stream."

"Oh, are you, my lord? How very generous of you. As I recall, you were not the one insulted."

"As I recall, you, cousin, were making game of me. Now, come downstairs. I wish you to ride around the estate with me."

"You wish me to do what?" Theo stared at him, her eyes incredulous.

"I understand from your mother that you've had the management of the estate for the last three years," he said impatiently, as if his request were the most natural imaginable. "You're clearly the obvious person to show me around."

"You have windmills in your head, sir. I wouldn't give you the time of day!" Theo swung on her heel and made to continue up the stairs.