Page 28 of Dangerous Illusions (Dangerous #1)
S UNLIGHT SPARKLED ON THE bright blue water of Plymouth Sound, and as they rode along the cliff edge toward Rame’s Point, the view across the Channel was so clear that they could see not only the Eddystone Light but the distant, shadowy shoreline of France as well.
A soft breeze blew wisps of Daintry’s hair into her face, and the warmth of the sun touched her skin like a caress.
High overhead, wispy white clouds floating on the breeze looked like white muslin gowns freed from a clothesline.
They rode silently for a time, enjoying the fresh sea air and the sounds of nature—the crying of the black-backed gulls and kittiwakes as they swooped and dove through the air overhead, the soft thuds of the horses’ hooves on the sandy turf, the song of the sea drifting up from below, and the nearby chirping of birds in the garden shrubbery.
For propriety’s sake, one of the grooms accompanied them, riding a discreet distance behind.
Yellow gorse blossoms peeked cheerfully through the masses of dull bracken and bloomless heather that covered the cliff slopes, and away to their right the Mount Edgcumbe gardens gave way to scrub woodland, but the melody of the birds continued, accompanied occasionally by the scratchy chirp of a bush-cricket fooled by the warmth of the sun into thinking it was spring.
He looked at her and smiled, and she marveled again at the warmth of that smile, the way it fired a glow through her whole body.
The corners of his golden eyes crinkled upward, making him look not only harmless but downright trustworthy, the sort of man to whom one could confide one’s innermost thoughts.
Had she not known that such men simply did not exist, she might well have been fooled by that look.
“A penny for your thoughts,” he said suddenly.
“My thoughts are worth a great deal more than that, sir, but if you must know, I was wondering what life would be like in a world where one could say precisely what one thought without any concern for the consequences.”
He grinned. “One can do so now, if one truly does not care about consequences.”
Wrinkling her nose at him, she retorted, “You know that is not what I meant. I just think it would be gratifying to know one could speak one’s mind without having one’s opinions laughed at or dismissed as inconsequential.”
Deverill was silent for a long moment, long enough that she wondered if she had somehow offended him, if he might be turning over previous conversations in his mind, searching his memory for something he might have done or said to make her think he had laughed at her or dismissed her opinions.
Deciding it would be good for him to wonder, she held her tongue.
At last he said, “I suppose people often do such things to each other, although I hadn’t thought about it before and certainly wouldn’t have expected such concerns to silence you.
In my experience, you say precisely whatever you want to say whenever you want to say it.
Words just seem to tumble from your brain out through your mouth without so much as a pause for reflection along the way. ”
His tone was so matter-of-fact that she was not certain whether she had just been insulted or complimented, but decided it did not much affect the point at hand in either case.
“I have been raised to believe I might generally say what I please,” she said, “but that is not by any means the same as knowing that what I say is respected. More often than not, when I speak to my father, my brother, or to Geoffrey, I am asked to repeat myself for the simple reason that they did not bother to listen to me the first time and only really acknowledged the fact that I had been speaking once I had finished. Can you imagine how infuriating that is, always to be asked to repeat oneself?”
He shook his head. “No, I doubt that I can, for I rarely am asked to repeat myself.”
She nodded vigorously. “That is precisely what I mean. When you speak, people listen because the consequences of not listening can be most unpleasant. If my father fails to pay heed to my words, however, how unpleasant can the consequences be?”
He chuckled.
“It is not funny!”
“No, I do not suppose that it is, but I am sure you exaggerate the difficulty, and I know for a fact that you are complaining to the wrong person. I don’t believe I have ever once asked you to repeat yourself.”
Realizing that he was right and, moreover, that they had arrived at this point because she had not wanted to tell him exactly what she had been thinking in the first place, she decided she would be wiser to change the subject.
Smiling sunnily she said, “You are perfectly right, sir, and I apologize for leading you to believe I was accusing you of any such thing. Have you managed to learn any more about our dreadful feud?”
He replied as if he were perfectly accustomed to abrupt turns of conversation, “I have not, but not from lack of trying. Not only have I begun a search of our family papers but I also asked my father for information; however, he snubbed me, making it clear that to press for answers would prove not only fruitless but would seriously annoy him, something I try never to do.”
“Goodness, do you fear your father, sir? I should never have guessed it.”
Deverill chuckled. “You’ve never met him, so I cannot think why you might expect to guess what he is like, but I assure you, I do not fear him. I just make it a point not to annoy him.”
“But this matter is an important one. We can do nothing to mend the rift if we do not know what harm was done at the start.”
“Do you want to mend the rift?” he asked gently.
“You know I do.” Seeing the warm look in his eyes again, she added hastily, “It is most uncomfortable being at odds with one’s neighbor, and I can see no good cause to continue a feud that has no known cause. It’s plain silly, sir.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “I agree, it seems that way, but of course, we do not know for a fact that our respective sires are not well aware of such details as would explain it perfectly and are simply refusing to tell us. Have you asked St. Merryn?”
“Of course I have, but he will tell me nothing. And my Aunt Ophelia, who knew both my grandfather and yours, insists she knows nothing at all about what caused them to quarrel.”
“She knew them both well?”
“Well enough that both of them proposed marriage to her.”
“But does she not keep a journal? I seem to recall her speaking of one when we discussed the weather the other day.”
“Yes, she does keep one.”
“Then, perhaps she would allow you to read it, or would take some time to read it over herself,” he suggested.
“But what purpose would that serve?”
“I should think that would be obvious,” Deverill said. “If something occurred between them, and if she knew them both, surely she must have noted it down in her journal at the time.”
“But she has said she knew nothing about it.”
“It was a long time ago.” His tone was patient. “She is elderly. She might well have forgotten.”
Daintry laughed, then said contritely, “I beg your pardon. It is most unfair to laugh at you, but although you have had the pleasure of meeting my great-aunt, you cannot know her yet if you can believe she would have forgotten such a thing, or indeed anything at all. She has a most remarkable memory, sir, not just for her age, but for any age whatsoever.”
“I see.” His expression was enigmatic for a moment, but then he seemed to shake himself, and he said, “I believe that making your acquaintance is going to prove a salutary experience for me, for I recall now that I once knew precisely what it is like to have one’s opinions dismissed as inconsequential.
Both my father and my brother, Jack, once made a habit of deflating all my pretensions.
When Jack left Eton things became different there, of course, and in the Army, I soon had my own command, so I am no longer accustomed to being put so firmly in my place. ”
Seeing no point to be gained by trying to make him see that he had just equated the general treatment of women by men with the treatment of children by adults, she said only, “I know one should not speak ill of the dead, sir, but your brother does not sound like he was a very kind man.”
He smiled. “No, ‘kind’ is not a word one would apply to Jack. He was a sportsman and thought himself the devil of a fellow, especially after my father came into the title. Jack couldn’t wait to be Marquess of Jervaulx.
I certainly never thought to find myself in his shoes, and I’m not at all sure I like it, for it’s as if my life had abruptly shifted course, almost as if I had suddenly ceased to be myself and become another person altogether.
” Straightening in his saddle and giving himself another one of those odd shakes she had noted before, he said, “There’s a long straight stretch ahead. Shall we gallop them?”
In reply, Daintry lowered her hands, leaned forward, and touched her mount with spur and whip.
The spirited bay gelding Deverill’s order had provided for her gathered itself and leapt forward, settling rapidly into a smooth pace that covered the distance with speed.
She had caught Deverill off guard with her quick reaction, but it was not long before he drew up alongside her, his big gray horse easily keeping pace with the bay.
She was reminded of the first time she had seen him on horseback when she had thought that he and Shadow moved as if they were mentally and physically one. Now, his grinning face and laughing eyes showed that he loved riding as much as she did.