Deborah Hale - Married - The Virgin Widow

He took his leave in haste, heading back to the house through the neglected gardens that had once been his grandmother’s pride. Now several newly hired gardeners were busy digging and pruning. Ford paid them scant heed as he trod the overgrown paths, lost in thought.

It seemed Laura had told the truth when she’d claimed her inheritance was a paltry one. What she had failed to mention was the handsome settlement Cyrus had made her before her marriage. Had she squandered that, too? Or had she squirrelled it away somewhere while she played at poverty for some devious reason he could not fathom?

Rounding a boxwood hedge near the east wing of the house, Ford came to a sudden halt. Ahead, he spotted Laura talking to a slender young man with ginger hair. She was smiling at the young fool in a way Ford had not seen her smile since he’d returned to Hawkesbourne.

His heart began to hammer against his ribs as if trying to batter its way out of his chest. A bubbling cauldron of acid seethed in his belly. Could this be the reason Laura had remained at Hawkesbourne feigning penury? So she could stay close to her next conquest, engaging his sympathy and assistance on her way to winning his heart?

Ford wondered if that was the reason for her thinly disguised hostility toward him. Perhaps Laura feared he would spoil her plans to secure a new husband.

She would soon discover he had plans of his own for her remarriage.

Did Sidney Crawford suspect her plans for him? Laura wondered as she kept their handsome young neighbour engaged in conversation, hoping Belinda might happen by.

“We so enjoyed the fish you brought the other day. Mama ate with a better appetite than she has all winter. Then when Lord Kingsfold arrived so unexpectedly, we were able to offer him a much better dinner than we could have otherwise. So I must thank you once again for your kindness.”

She treated him to a fond smile. Mr Crawford was one of the only neighbours who had shown her family any kindness. He was also one of the few men around whom she felt somewhat at ease.

Her praise brought a blush to the young man’s fair features. “I am always delighted to be of service to your family. I hope the fish agreed with…your sisters.”

His hazel eyes shimmered with particular interest. How could Belinda persist in ignoring Mr Crawford’s shy fancy for her?

“Very much so. Belinda praised its flavour to the skies and said how fortunate we are to have so thoughtful a friend in you.” It was not an outright falsehood, just a touch of well-meant exaggeration to reward his generosity.

“D-did she?” The poor fellow’s face grew redder. “I hope she…er…you…that is…your family will always think of me as a friend. I would do anything in my power to assist…all of you!”

Where were the girls? It was a lovely afternoon for a stroll before dinner, especially since Ford had engaged the new servants, leaving her and her sisters more time for leisure. The sound of approaching footsteps made Laura turn with an expectant smile.

It froze on her lips when she spied Ford striding toward them, his stern visage dark as a thundercloud. The brooding power of his approach sent a chill of fear quivering through her, but she held her ground as she scrambled to rally her composure.

“Ford,” she cried as if he were the person she most wanted to see, instead of precisely the opposite, “come and meet our kind neighbour I told you about. Mr Sidney Crawford, may I present Ford Barrett, the new Lord Kingsfold.”

“Crawford.” Ford thrust out his hand with the swift force of a combatant about to inflict a blow. “I must congratulate you on your fishing skill. I should try my hand at angling again. It cultivates patience and vigilant restraint—qualities a man needs to achieve his aims in life.”

“It is an honor to meet you, my lord.” Poor Mr Crawford winced at Ford’s powerful grip. “If you would care to indulge in a day’s fishing, I’d welcome the company. Lord Bramber sometimes hunts with me in the autumn, but angling is rather too leisurely a pursuit for his temperament.”

Mr Crawford’s tactful assessment of the impetuous Lord Bramber coaxed back a remnant of the smile Ford’s arrival had dashed from Laura’s face. The young marquis and his two sisters lived at nearby Bramberley, an estate much older and grander than Hawkesbourne, but even more neglected.

Ford drew back his hand. “I will let you know if I find myself with time on my hands. Between making improvements to the estate and setting up a London office for my trading company, I expect to be much occupied. Now, if you will excuse us, I have an important matter to discuss with her ladyship.”

Important matter? Laura did not like the sound of that any more than she liked Ford’s curt dismissal of Sidney Crawford. What if he should feel unwelcome at Hawkesbourne, and stop dropping by? Any possibility of a romance between him and Belinda would wither on the vine. Laura had been willing to let love take its course, but now, with the threat that Ford might evict them from Hawkesbourne, she needed to hurry matters along.

“Of course, my lord.” Mr Crawford looked torn between his unease with Ford and disappointment at leaving without a glimpse of Belinda. His candid features were as easy to read as Ford’s were inscrutable. “I should be on my way.”

He bowed to Laura. “My lady. Pray give my regards to your mother and sisters. Tell Miss Belinda I am most gratified to hear she enjoyed the trout.”

“Indeed I shall. I am sorry you did not have the opportunity to tell her so yourself.” Laura fixed her lips in the brittle imitation of a smile as she waved Sidney Crawford on his way.

As soon as he was safely out of sight, she rounded on Ford. “Are you always so rude to people who deserve your gratitude? I remembered you being more polite. Or perhaps I deceived myself.”

Ford shrugged. “Memories can be deceptive. I seem to recall your character rather different than I find it now. As for your precious Mr Crawford, I was perfectly civil to the man.”

Laura sensed an insult in his remark about her character. “If that was civility, heaven spare me your insolence!”

One corner of Ford’s mouth arched ever so slightly, halfway between a gloating grin and contemptuous sneer. “Be assured, my dear, if I mean to offend, you will know it.”

His frosty tone told Laura she was anything but dear to him. Had she ever been? Or were her misty memories of their courtship only the delusions of a foolish girl? If by finding her different , Ford meant that she was more guarded, no longer given to blind trust or reckless affection, then she would consider it a compliment.

“What is this important matter you wished to discuss with me? Or was that only an excuse to chase Mr Crawford away?”

Ford gave a hoarse, mocking chuckle. “What devious motives you credit me with. I certainly do have a matter of importance to discuss with you.” He offered her his arm with exaggerated formality. “Shall we wander the bluebell path as we talk? The flowers should be in bloom now.”

Was he being deliberately cruel? Laura wondered, though she took his arm without voicing any objection. Or had she meant so little to him that he could forget he’d once proposed to her in the bluebell wood?

Even with all the layers of garments between her hand and Ford’s arm, Laura could not ignore her disturbing awareness of his hard, unyielding muscle as they walked.

“Well?” she prompted him, eager to distract herself from the perverse rush of heat that swept up her arm to kindle an unwelcome fever in her body.

“Yes…well…” By the sound of it, Ford’s mind had been elsewhere too. “Now that I have been back for a few days and taken measure of the situation, I believe the time has come to discuss your family’s continued residence at Hawkesbourne.”