Chapter 12

Ralph had spent most of the morning in the saddle and was looking forward to returning to an empty house. So far, the house-party had been everything he had expected it to be. Young ladies, fresh from the schoolroom, vying for his attention by simpering and giggling at his every word. It was all becoming exceptionally tedious.

His mother, who fully expected him to make an offer of marriage by the end of the week, had become unbearable. She hounded him at every turn, asking him which one he preferred as though she was offering him a plate of sweetmeats. He was also worried that his mother was trying to hatch some plan that would force him into an unwanted marriage before the week was out with her choice of bride.

However, today he could relax and temporarily let his guard down, as most of the guests had gone out on an outing to visit the cathedral in the city of Exeter. This allowed him to pursue some urgent estate business.

Ralph was riding through the village, on the way back from settling a border dispute between a couple of his tenants, when he spotted Helen walking up the gravel path towards the door of the church. By rights, he should immediately ride back to the Hall and that long-overdue meeting with his steward, but the temptation of seeing Helen again was far too great.

He tied his horse in the meadow next to the church and made his way towards the door. Once he entered the church and his eyes had become accustomed to the dark interior, he glimpsed Helen walking around the outside of the nave, reading the memorial plaques from past generations of his family.

She was wearing the same blue muslin dress she had worn yesterday. Even though the dress had seen better days, Ralph thought that she looked beautiful. The delicate blue flowers that matched her pelisse suited her dark hair and ivory skin. He continued to watch her as she carefully examined each plaque in turn.

After a few minutes, she sat down in one of the pews near the back of the church. The organist was playing a soft atonal tune, one he usually associated with the congregation gathering together on a Sunday morning. He continued to watch her as she sat staring with a look of contemplation on her face, at the stained-glass window behind the altar. She was so lost in her own thoughts, that she did not notice him sitting down next to her.

'It's peaceful in here,' he said as a greeting, more to alert her to his presence that anything else.

She looked startled to see him, and he felt a twinge of guilt that he had disturbed her.

Once she had regained her composure, he began to talk to her about the memorial plaques she had just been examining. Whether it was the unworldly atmosphere within the church or the presence of the woman sitting next to him, he did not know. However, whatever it was, he began to tell her things about himself that he had never confided to anyone else.

He talked about how his father had unexpectedly become the earl and the loveless and often violent marriage of his parents. Ralph felt a closeness to her that he had never experienced before.

He was surprised when she voiced sympathy for his mother. Helen, he concluded, was a product of her circumstances, just like everyone else.

When the organist had stopped, an eery silence descended on the church. He felt no need to fill the silence with unnecessary words. He just reached out and took her hand in his and held it for comfort. There was an ethereal atmosphere, in the church, that felt somewhat otherworldly. Ralph felt far removed from the man he had been less than half an hour ago when he had ridden into the village. This complicated woman, who had hidden her heart from the world for all these years, was allowing him into her world.

She told him about her husband, Lord Brentford's younger son, and how he had forced his attentions onto her. She also confessed to him how the resultant pregnancy had resulted in a hasty marriage that had brought her nothing but misery.

She had described her past actions as "shameful and horrible." If she thought that her confession would cause revulsion in him, she was wrong. Ralph understood her. She had been a victim of her circumstances. And, the very people who should have been protecting her had taken advantage of her. Instead of dousing the flames of his love for her, her story only made him want her more. He could see no reason, from what she had said to him why he could not marry her.

He repeated his declaration of marriage, holding both her hands and looking into her amber eyes. 'The offer is still open. Helen, would you do me the honour of becoming my wife?'

He felt desolate when she refused him again. There was a finality in her reply that made him realise that she would not easily change her mind.

He wanted to argue with her and sweep away every objection he knew she would raise, but before he could put his thoughts into words, she interrupted him.

'I will never be your wife, but I will become your mistress,' she had said in a solemnity that matched their surroundings.

He tried to dissuade her but to no avail. No argument, not even the loss of her son, would change her mind. If he wanted to be with her, he would have to agree to her terms. Maybe, sometime in the future, he would be able to persuade her to accept his offer of marriage. One thing was sure, he would not marry as long as he had Helen, whatever she might tell him.

He would agree to anything. If the only way he could be with her was by accepting her terms, then he would have to agree to them. She wanted to live in the moment with no thought to the future, and he had to persuade her that she was wrong.

He kissed her gently and felt her respond to his kiss. 'Come, Helen,' he said with his cheek resting on hers, 'we should go and seal our bargain.'

Ralph led her from the church, and they walked hand in hand across the churchyard towards his horse. Up until then, the large chestnut stallion had been content to crop the long grass of the meadow, while he waited patiently for his master to return. As he saw his master approach, he whinnied softly and tossed his head up and down in greeting.

Ralph untied the leather bridle that had been tied around the trunk of a tree and led the impressive beast towards Helen. He noticed, with admiration, that she did not cower or fall back behind him when the horse approached her. Instead, she let the horse gently nuzzle her. Then she put up her hand to stroke the velvet fur on his nose.

'You are a very handsome lad,' she said, giggling as the horse continued to snuffle her neck and shoulder. 'And I think that you are well aware of that fact.'

'You are making me jealous,' Ralph said teasingly, as he patted the horse's rump

'So you should be,' she said, her face lit up with a broad smile, 'he is far more handsome than you.'

'That I do not doubt,' Ralph said in mock hauteur, 'but may I remind you, madam, that you have already promised yourself to me.'

Helen laughed. It was a delightful sound. The smile that had lit up her face had made her look even more beautiful. The pain and torment of those lost years seemed to melt away, and he knew that she was lost in the joy of the moment.

'What is his name?' she said as the horse continued to snuffle her.

'Sampson,' he said, still looking at her and observing the delight on her face.

She reached up and ruffled Sampson's glorious thick, glossy mane. 'Is all your strength in your main?' she said softly to the horse.

As if in agreement, Sampson nodded his head, and Helen laughed again.

Ralph, overcome with love for her, took her in his arms. In return, she wound her arms around his neck and looked at him with laughter sparkling in her eyes. Sampson's presence had been forgotten. As he brushed his lips against hers, she wound her fingers in his hair and deepened the kiss. All the passion and desire she had locked up inside her was released. Ralph had forgotten the very public setting of their surroundings. He was standing under a tree in the middle of a meadow, next to the village church. It was the middle of the afternoon, and he was passionately kissing one of his mother's house guests. If anyone saw them, they would cause a scandal far worse than anything his father had created before him. However, as his arms slipped around her waist and she pressed herself against him, all sense of propriety vanished. He was lost in the moment.

Sampson snorted and nudged Ralph in the shoulder, bringing the kiss to an untimely end. If it had not been for Sampson acting as a chaperon, he would have continued to enjoy their moment of intimacy in that very public place. Helen looked at him, passion making her eyes shine brightly as she continued to stroke her fingers through his hair.

'I think our chaperon is getting embarrassed by our wanton behaviour,' he said, laughing, still holding her tightly around the waist.

'We are in a public place, are we not?' she said, mischievously looking around her towards the village. 'Perhaps he is worried that we will cause a scandal and bring his good name into disrepute.'

'I had no idea that he was so prudish,' Ralph said after he had lightly kissed her on the lips and let go of her waist. 'I suggest we retire to somewhere a little more private, where prying eyes, including Sampson's, will not be offended.'

'I think that is a marvellous suggestion, my lord,' she said as her hands rested on his chest, 'where do you suggest we go?'

It was only mid-afternoon, and the sun was still shining brightly in the sky. The house-guests that had left for Exeter that morning were not expected back for several hours. They could disappear together, and no one would be none the wiser.

'Can you swim?' he said, as he mounted Sampson in a fluid, graceful motion.

'Yes, but I have not done it for many years,' she said, looking up at him.

He held out his hand and pulled her up so that she was sitting in front of him. Sampson sidled, accustoming himself to the extra load on his back. 'It is something you never forget,' he said, as he shifted her so that she could lean back on him more comfortably. 'Anyway, I will be there to stop you from drowning.'