Lara Temple - Lord Hunter's Cinderella Heiress

Still, it wasn’t wise to trust this man and she shouldn’t presume that she understood him simply because he was so unfashionably blunt. As someone who kept most of herself firmly out of public view, she had a good eye for identifying people whose surface differed from their interior. She could see beyond painfully shy or boisterously loud exteriors and she had used this skill time and again helping Mrs Petheridge with the schoolgirls and even with recalcitrant or challenging horses. Not that he appeared to be masking vulnerability or fear, but there was definitely something behind the urbane façade that outweighed it, and until she understood what it was she would do well not to take him at face value, no matter how charming the face.

As they weaved their way into the gloom she realised she was being all too complaisant about being led into a dark alley by a man she hardly knew. Admittedly the mention of an Aunt Sephy and Aunt Amelia didn’t exactly invoke images of rape and pillage, but still...

‘What is this place?’ she asked in a whisper, slowing her steps, but just then the alley curved into a small courtyard set around a single tree. The cobblestones glistened with the remains of the drizzle and light shone through curtains which were definitely pink and embroidered with flowers. Even in that weak light Nell could see the façade here was well tended and the tree surrounded with chrysanthemums. It was so far removed from the dour impression of the front of the building that she couldn’t help staring.

Hunter stopped as well and his hand covered hers where it lay on his arm. He stood with his back to the faint light from the window, once again a dark-on-dark shape like that first moment he had opened the door, but this time it was a different kind of shock that spurted through her. There was enough light to infuse his eyes with a startling burn of gold and his smile was so enticing that her hand began to turn under his. She froze before she could complete the gesture, but she was incapable of doing anything else but waiting for his move, as surely as if this was a game of chess and these the iron rules of a game they had engaged in.

He wasn’t doing anything, just looking down at her, but in her weary and overwhelmed state he seemed to grow, take on the dark of the night, expand and envelop her. She had never been fanciful but she imagined Lucifer might look like this the moment before he claimed a failing soul for his own. It would feel like this, too: hot, terrifying, all encompassing, seductive. If she leaned forward she might fall into that heat and be consumed by it, claimed and changed for ever. It would be inescapable.

Then he spoke and the moment broke.

‘A bit of a surprise, isn’t it?’ he said and there was nothing in his voice to reflect the swirling heat of the moment. She stepped back, pulling her hand away. It must be the weariness and the confusion, that was all. More proof that she should not trust him, even if that moment had been merely her imagination.

‘I can’t go in there!’ She heard the panic in her voice, but couldn’t help it.

He took her hand again, layering it between his own. This was no longer Lucifer, and though the warmth flowed through her, now it was soothing.

‘It’s all right. You will like them and they will like you, I promise. There is nothing to be afraid of.’

She tried to resent being spoken to like a child except that it wasn’t the patronising tone of some of the schoolmistresses. It was an offer, but the decision would have to be hers. She glanced at the pink curtains and nodded. She had little choice, after all.

He tapped lightly on a lion’s-paw knocker and the door was opened immediately by a round little man who bowed and stood back.

‘Good evening, my lord. Miss Amelia is waiting for you in the parlour. Miss Sephy has of course retired.’

Lord Hunter urged Nell up the stairs into the well-lit hall.

‘Thank goodness for that, Bassett.’

The butler’s mouth relaxed as he opened the door into a room at the back of the house and stood back to let them enter.

‘Indeed, my lord. May I bring refreshments?’

‘You may. Tea for Miss Tilney and something stronger for me.’

Nell cringed at the trouble she was causing and almost began apologising, but Lord Hunter ushered her into the parlour where a woman moved towards them with a smile in honey-brown eyes that clearly were a shared family trait. She also had her nephew’s strong brows and slightly aquiline nose. It was a formidable face, but contrarily Nell didn’t feel at all intimidated. In fact, and very uncharacteristically, Nell liked her on sight and met the woman’s smile with one of her own.

‘Amelia, this is Miss Helen Tilney. Miss Tilney, this is my aunt, Miss Amelia Calthorpe. She lives here with my other aunt, Miss Seraphina Calthorpe, who is thankfully asleep because her rampant curiosity would keep you awake until dawn if let loose. Amelia, we have an emergency. Miss Tilney needs a place to stay for a few days until she decides on her future path. May she stay here? I’ve sent Hidgins to collect her luggage from the posting house, but if he’s delayed she might need to borrow some gear from you.’

Nell was grateful for the soft light, though she was sure her flush of shame was still as apparent as in broad daylight, but Amelia’s face betrayed none of the shock and scorn Nell had expected.

‘Of course you may,’ Amelia said without hesitation, holding out her hand to Nell. ‘And you needn’t worry about your baggage. It reminds me I once lost my trunk and I was miserable because I had just bought the loveliest bonnet. Do come with me and we will have something warm to drink while Bassett is preparing the guest room. Did you travel far today?’

Nell followed her in something of a daze.

‘I...from Keswick...’

‘Oh, of course. I just realised who you are! I am not very good with the papers, but Sephy did show me the column in the Post today, or was it yesterday? I have been meaning to write you a note, Gabriel. Why didn’t you tell me this is the woman you are engaged to?’

‘Not any more. Miss Tilney plans to jilt me as soon as we can do so with minimal fuss.’

‘Dear me, what a pity. Was it something you said?’

‘I think it might be something I didn’t say.’

‘Of course. I quite understand, Miss Tilney, and I must say that though I personally adore Gabriel, I can see your point. From the age of four he was always one to go his own way and let the world follow if it can. Oh, thank you, Bassett. Just put it on the table. I will pour.’

Nell accepted the cup of tea Miss Calthorpe handed her, trying very hard not to give in to the urge to giggle at this increasingly improbable scene. She looked away and met Gabriel’s eyes and the lazy invitation to share in his amusement evoked an involuntary response in her. If ever a look said ‘I told you so’ without exciting the least resentment, this was it. She drank her tea, answering Miss Amelia’s questions as faithfully as possible, but without much awareness of what she said. She laid down her cup on the small round table by her chair, but it tilted alarmingly and the cup and saucer slid away as she watched, too tired and sluggish to even realise what was about to happen. But Lord Hunter leaned forward with a swiftness that made her jerk awake and caught the cup and saucer with a smooth motion.

‘Thank you,’ she murmured, flushing, and his eyes moved over her, intense and questioning.

‘You’re tired. I’ll go see if Bassett is done.’

‘Please, don’t bother...’ she began, but luckily Bassett entered.

‘Miss Tilney’s room is ready, Miss Amelia.’

‘Thank you, Bassett. Come along, Miss Tilney. May I call you Helen, or is it Nell? Leave your cloak. Bassett will give it a good brushing. Goodnight, Gabriel. You may come by tomorrow.’