Major Westhaven's Unwilling Ward

‘Miss Pevensey.’

She turned. Major Westhaven was standing practically to attention at the end of the gallery. ‘I have ordered the carriage.’

She nodded curtly. ‘I am coming.’ Turning to John, she smiled. ‘It was lovely to meet you.’

His eyes filled with tears once more. ‘You are kind, my lady.’

‘Goodbye, John.’

‘You’ll not be back?’

‘I do not think so.’

He nodded. ‘I see.’

On an impulse, she put out a hand and squeezed his arm. Then, because he looked as if he was about to cry at any moment, she walked away, to where Major Westhaven stood waiting for her with a look of abject scorn in his blue-grey eyes.

‘If you are quite finished, Miss Pevensey…’

Something in his tone tugged at her, so that the irritation she had suppressed flared into anger as he shut the doors to the long gallery behind her with a firmness that suggested the subject was also closed. ‘No. I have not finished, Major. Not quite.’

She looked past him to where her friend stood, looking acutely uncomfortable at the tension crackling between them. ‘If you wish to go and ready yourself to leave, Lady Stanton, I will be with you in a moment.’

Kitty hesitated. ‘I’m not sure I ought to—’

‘I’ll only be a moment.’

Kitty shot her a telling look, but Lily, too angry to care, gestured pleadingly with her eyes to the door.

‘Very well.’ With a frown that told her friend she was not happy, Kitty left them alone, looking back uncertainly as she closed the door behind herself.

Lily, fuming, turned to face the Major, who was watching her with sardonic amusement.

‘You go to great lengths to get me alone, Miss Pevensey.’

Lily’s lip curled at his arrogance. ‘I assure you, Major, this will be the first and last time.’ She faced him, hands on hips, unladylike but furious. ‘How could you speak so to an old man?’

‘I am sure he will recover,’ he said mildly.

‘But you were so cruel! He has served you your whole life and this is how you repay him?’

He regarded her coolly. ‘Do not let John fool you, my lady. He is tougher than most men a third of his age.’

‘He would have to be,’ she retorted, ‘if he is treated so!’

His jaw clenched. ‘I do not believe it is any of your business how I treat my servants.’

‘Indeed not.’ She was making no impression—she had been a fool to think she could get through to him when, evidently, remorse was completely alien to his character. ‘Indeed, I think any business we may have had has been concluded, my lord. I will never move in under any roof of yours, regardless of whether I share it with you or not. Thank you for your sparkling hospitality. Good day!’

She spun on her heel and stalked towards the front hall, where Kitty waited.

‘Lily?’ Her friend came forward, concerned to see the look of fury on her face. ‘What happened? I should not have left you!’

‘Nothing happened. We are leaving.’ Lily located her bonnet, waiting for her on the table, and jammed it on to her head, fastening the ribbons haphazardly. Then, throwing open the door, she started down the stone steps. ‘Come, Kitty.’

‘But, Lily—wait, we cannot—’

Ignoring Kitty’s protests, Lily strode out of the door. She was halfway down the steps when she realised that not only was there no carriage waiting for them, but that it was raining.

‘Miss Pevensey.’ Now Major Westhaven was in the doorway above her. ‘At least have the sense to wait inside.’

‘Sense?’ She turned her face, wet with raindrops, up to him. ‘If I had sense, I would have known that to come here at all was a fool’s errand, sir!’

With that, she headed off down the driveway, thinking only to put as much distance as she could between them.

Behind her she heard Kitty crying her name, and vaguely registered the Major say something to the younger woman, but she was too angry to wonder what passed between them. ‘You may tell your driver to catch me up!’ she cried over her shoulder.

Her words, however, were drowned out by a huge clap of thunder. Out of nowhere, the steady rain became heavier, intensifying in moments until it was veritably pouring.

Lily, temper undampened, kept walking.

It was only when someone grabbed her arm that she realised Major Westhaven was behind her. Looking up at the streaming sky, he muttered something that she suspected may have been a profanity, and promptly dragged her off to one side. She fought him with a shriek, but she was no match for his iron grip and superior strength.

‘You are frightening your friend,’ he ground at her, jaw clenched.

‘I am sure she will survive—let me go!’

Despite her protests, however, Lily found herself pulled relentlessly across already sodden grass until she was under the protective cover of a large oak tree, its canopy of foliage stretching out above them for several feet.

‘How dare you?’ Jerking her arm free, Lily braced herself against the thick bark of its trunk and tried to ignore him and catch her breath simultaneously.

She pulled off her dripping bonnet, turning her back upon the man at her side as she surveyed the sheets of rain that now surrounded them, dripping through the leaves above. It did not look as if it would ever stop, and the promised carriage was still nowhere to be seen. In the distance the house stood, impassive, as if it had witnessed such scenes before. Of Kitty there was no sign. Lily felt a stab of guilt.

‘Where is Lady Stanton?’ she snapped.

‘Inside,’ he said, sounding thoroughly out of sorts. ‘And a damned sight drier than we are, I’ll warrant.’

She rounded on him. ‘Kindly moderate your language! You are not on the battlefield now, Major.’

‘Evidently,’ he muttered. ‘My men never surrendered themselves to such histrionics.’

Lily glared at him, but shut her mouth tight, desperately trying not to give him the satisfaction of a response, as he seemed so determined to bait her. She crossed her arms and attempted to pretend once more that he was not there.

It was not as easy as she had hoped—plus she was beginning to be cold, now that the energy of scrambling for shelter was no longer required.

Beside her, Major Westhaven shrugged off his coat.

‘Here.’ He draped it roughly about her shoulders where, though damp, it did afford some warmth. Anger overcoming an absurd flash of gratefulness, Lily drew it wordlessly about her, trying not to let him see that she was shivering.