Sarah Mallory - Pursued For The Viscount's Vengeance

They turned west from the gates of the drive and headed away from the town. He was at pains to set her at her ease and within a very short time Deborah was chatting to him as if they had known one another for years.

* * *

It did not take long for him to learn that Deborah was an accomplished horsewoman and when they reached a stretch of open ground it seemed the most natural thing in the world to set the horses racing. The chestnut gelding had the advantage of size and strength over the mare, but for most of the way they were neck and neck, Gil just pulling away for the last few hundred yards. When he reached the hedge that separated them from the lane he drew rein and waited by the gate for Deb to come up to him. When she did, her cheeks were flushed and her smile was as wide as the sky. He could not help grinning back.

‘Did you enjoy that?’

‘Very much.’ She watched him as he manoeuvred his horse around to come alongside her and said, ‘You do not need to do that.’

‘Do what?’

‘I have noticed that you keep to the left of me, so I do not have to look at the scar on your face. I am not offended or repulsed by it, Mr Victor, believe me.’

She was smiling at him, nothing but warmth and kindness in her green eyes, and he felt something stirring inside of him, as if there was a chink in the armour he had built around his heart. She had touched softer feelings that he had kept buried for years.

‘Gil,’ he said suddenly. ‘Call me Gil.’

‘But your name is James.’ Her brows drew together. ‘You are James Victor, are you not?’

He was already cursing himself for inviting her to use that familiar name. He had not intended to allow her such intimacy, but he was not so much in control as he should be in her presence. He would need to be more careful.

‘Gil is what my family and close friends call me,’ he said, recovering quickly. ‘I should be honoured if you would use it, too.’

‘I cannot. It would not be seemly.’

She turned the mare and went ahead of him on to the lane, but he knew it was more than a physical distance. She had withdrawn from him. He brought his horse alongside her and began to talk of mundane matters until their previous rapport was re-established, and after that he was careful to say nothing more that might upset the easy camaraderie.

Gil knew he had been at fault. When they had raced across the turf he had forgotten his ulterior motive in befriending Deb Meltham. He found himself wishing that they could just be friends, that he had not set himself upon this path. But he had chosen his route and he could not change it now. He must approach it like any other military operation. Sometimes one’s duty was unpleasant, yet it must be done. But it was difficult, when she looked at him with those large trusting eyes and all he wanted to do was to protect her. He hardened his heart. She would be hurt, there was no help for it. In any battle there were casualties, it was the nature of war.

Chapter Four

They rode westwards, the sun climbing higher in a clear blue sky. Deborah stopped on a slight ridge and pointed.

‘Look, there in the distance is the town of Formby, and do you see the sandhills? Beyond them lies the sea.’

There was an excitement in her voice and the lively anticipation in her face amused Gil. Seeing his smile, she laughed.

‘I have not been to the coast for years. When we were children Ran and I used to come here with Papa. The greatest treat was to call upon one of the local families, where we would dine on shrimp before we returned home.’

He waved her on. ‘Lead the way then, Miss Meltham. I am anxious to see it for myself.’

They set off again at a brisk trot, but Deborah’s mood began to dip as she contrasted those happy carefree memories with her brother’s life now. Even to be out enjoying herself today seemed wrong, when Ran was so unhappy. And last night she had come very close to despair.

When Randolph had joined her after dinner he had gone straight to the side table and poured himself a brandy from the decanter.

‘What?’ he demanded, looking up and catching her eye. ‘Why do you look like that?’

‘Have you not drunk enough? Doctor Reedley said—’

‘Damn the doctor and damn you!’ The outburst seemed to sober him. He passed a hand over his eyes and said more quietly, ‘I beg your pardon, Deb, I know you are trying to look after me.’

‘You are all I have left, Ran.’

He frowned at her, then took the brandy in one gulp and refilled his glass. He sat down, cradling the glass between two hands and staring moodily into the amber depths.

‘You should leave me,’ he said abruptly. ‘Go and make a life for yourself somewhere far away.’

She smiled lovingly at him. ‘And just where would I go? What would I live on? An income of fifty pounds a year will scarce support me.’

‘I could make you an allowance.’

Her smile slipped a little, ‘How will you do that, when the estate is already mortgaged to the hilt?’

She pressed her lips together to avoid saying anything more. For all his faults Ran loved her. She knew that. It was the knowledge of her family’s love that had helped her survive those dark days when she had given her heart to a man, only to have it trampled and broken. She had sworn then she would devote her life to her family, but with Mama and Papa both dead, there was only Randolph. He might be weak, and flawed, but he was the only man she was prepared to trust and to love. She crossed the room and dropped to her knees beside him.

‘I promised Mama I would look after you,’ she whispered.

A lock of fair hair had fallen over his brow and she reached up to brush it back. He did not look up.

‘I am beyond redemption, Debs.’

The hopelessness in his tone tore at her heart, but if she showed him sympathy it would only increase his self-pity.

‘No, no,’ she said bracingly. ‘You will come about, in time.’

‘Time!’ He laughed bitterly. ‘And meanwhile I must remain here, mouldering away in this dreary, forsaken little town.’

‘We discussed it with Dr Reedley, do you not remember, Ran? We agreed it would be best for you to live here quietly.’

‘No, you and Reedley agreed it, not I! You want to keep me here, a prisoner. Can we not live in the Liverpool house? At least at Duke Street I was close to all my friends!’

It was those friends who are responsible for your present state!

Deb closed her lips tightly to prevent the words escaping. With an oath Ran pushed himself out of his chair.

‘I am sick of it, do you hear me? Sick of this place, where everyone knows our business, where they all look down their noses at me.’

‘That is not true, Ran.’

‘Oh, isn’t it? Playing cards for penny points, Sir Geoffrey Gomersham wanting to show me the prize bull he has added to his estate—as if I cared about such things!’

‘Well, you should,’ she said sharply, her patience breaking. ‘This estate is your responsibility now and needs you to take an interest.’

‘Hah, what odd notions you have, Sister! Let the farmers take an interest in the land. As long as they pay their rent I do not care what goes on here!’

She had watched him lounge away, staggering a little as he left the room. No, she thought sadly. Ran cared nothing for Kirkster or its people. Their people. He saw it only as a purse to dip into whenever he wanted money. That purse was nearly empty now, but an even greater worry to Deborah was Ran’s health. Doctor Reedley had been blunt.

‘If Lord Kirkster continues with his mode of life he will not live the year out. Keep him here, quiet and sober, and he has a chance.’

But how was she to do that? She could not physically restrain him and sometimes she thought her brother was hell-bent upon self-destruction.