Page 2 of Claiming His Estranged Viscountess (Rogues from War 2)

This hardened woman caused him respect, and she also aroused him. Surprisingly.

“I am sure the neighbours would savour this morsel of a gossip!” With his honour going down the sewage, however shredded it seemed. This lay beside the point, though. The sting in his chest turned more intense.

“Not my concern either.” She dismissed, crossing her arms over her feminine bosom.

His eyes followed her movement, fixing there, appreciatively. “What is your concern then?” His attention lifted reluctant to her rosewood eyes, translucent with the setting sun. She had the most beautiful eyes!

“To provide enough for everybody next winter.” Her certainty took him aback. He had never planned globally like that. He had always considered the servants or the tenants Coleman’s task. He did not get involved in the manor’s work, as he saw her doing now, working the garden herself.

“If you excuse me,” he heard her saying. “I have to finish the day’s tasks.” She walked past him.

He stretched his hand and caught her arm. He did not mean to touch her; it came automatically. The contact with the warm coarse fabric and the soft flesh under it did something to his senses. It made him want her as he had never wanted her before departing.

She lowered her arid gaze to his hand on her and lifted it to his again. An undisguisable contempt in her came in waves. Instantly he let go of, troubled by her reaction.

“See you at dinner.” He voiced to her ramrod straight back.

Naturally, he received no answer. Her indifference to him annoyed him. He aimed at patience, it did not figure among his strengths though. He hoped he could hold his temper. Those counted only as the first couple of hours since he returned.

Dinner proved a solitary endeavour. Mr Hughes, the butler, informed him her ladyship would dine in her chambers. So, she intended to avoid him like the plague. For all he deemed good for returning home, it seemed she would come back on him for his past mistakes. Not that he did not deserve it. Thrown on his face like that made him guilty and disheartened. Not to mention the contrariety.

Aurelia was incapable of touching her food. The day’s events simmered restless in her. The future looked uncertain. Worse, it looked bleak, as did the past years. She should expect no less than repetition of those murky three years. It dreaded her to have to live through that again.

She married Lord Strafford at a naïve and inexperienced age. At twenty, she occupied herself with romantic books and even more romantic dreams. She had seen in Conrad the perfect character of her books. At thirty, he had exuded charm and seduction, filling her imagination with all kinds of reveries. His proposal came as the culmination of her wishes. Just when she thought she would be in the shelf. Little did she know the irresponsible wastrel he would prove to be. The whole damned thing fated to disillusion, obviously.

It happened quickly enough. In the first night, she awaited him eagerly. He took several hours to come and when he did, he consummated their marriage in a quick bureaucratic way and then forsook her for the rest of the night. Gone to a brothel, she concluded later. She did not see him until two days later in total discomposure. The sadness amounted to near unbearable. The months came and went in a loneliness bordering desperation. Her dreams shattered, her joy of life damaged. She ceased to be the radiant girl she had once been. It took time and learning for her to stand up on her own again. Hurt and rage aided her. Eventually, she succeeded. Until this day, she had taekn control of her life. What would come next? More of the same, probably.

His touch this afternoon took her unawares. Her body registered his warmth and stirred. A tangled mix of feelings dominated her. Aversion, sensation, bitter memories and a void thing that gnawed. She recognised loneliness only too well and she did not deny a healthy woman had desires, which never manifested themselves while he went away. Why now? Alone with the manor’s work a sense of achievement and fulfilment overtook her. She had friends among the neighbours and the tenants’ wives. She needed no more. Definitely!

She had been sitting at her secretary for a length of time, making notes for the spring work at the manor, when she heard it. Her lady’s maid had gone taking the dinner tray almost untouched. The click on the connecting door startled her. Locked, both doors, including the one to the hallway.

The click came again, clearer. Her heart thudded, a cold thread flashed in her, followed by a hot one. The possibility of him visiting her in the night assailed her unwanted and tempting at the same time. His touch in the garden popped in her mind. The confusing emotions resurfacing. She must be in a dejectedly lonely condition if a mere click of the connecting door threw her in this thundering heartbeat. What could she want with a husband that made the consummation of their marriage a single cold obligation? The anger and the pain stood raw in her. She wanted no contact with him. Ever.

Conrad put his ear to the connecting door. No sound came from her chamber. He knew she was inside though, as for the butler’s information. He played the fool, he supposed. Did he expect her to leave the damned door unlocked and receive him open arms? If her behaviour had been anything to go by, she wanted nothing to do with him. Who could blame her?

What would she say if she understood he had been a faithful husband these two years? That he made it a point to be so? That he wanted to break with old self-destructive habits? She probably would not believe him. There would be no reason to, in her mind. It infuriated him, though, that she evaded him. He did not expect this block of ice to greet his arrival. Frustration tore at him.

He rubbed a palm over the nape of his neck, trying to alleviate the tension. Exhaustion from the trip might be taking its toll on him. Better to sleep on it and see what the next day brought. He dressed his Indian white pyjamas, which was pleasant for night time. He turned around and walked to his huge cold bed. At least, it was more comfortable than his tiny cold cot! Sleep overcame him as soon as his head touched the heavenly crisp pillow.

Chapter Two

Conrad opened his eyes startled. For seconds, he did not remember his whereabouts. He caught his valet opening the unfashionable curtain; his memory refreshed. His hand passed over his eyes.

“What time is it?” He murmured not fully awake.

“Past nine, milord.”

“Damn!” He jumped out of bed. How could he sleep so much? A usual early riser, he deemed it strange the hour so late.

He undressed his pyjamas. He adopted the silky tunic and loose trousers in India, where he took to wearing it at daytime as well, when not on duty. It fit his tall frame and modelled his broad shoulders. Drury, his valet, always looked at it with a smirk, no doubt thinking his master rather eccentric.

Downstairs he expected to see his slippery wife. And got dumbfounded when Hughes informed him that her ladyship left. On horse with her lady’s maid and Coleman to inspect the cattle on the other side of the property. Hours ago. The woman never stopped working, for pity’s sake!

He decided to go for a ride in his own horse and reacquaint himself with his land. He saw improvements everywhere. Refurbished barns, renewed mills, enlarged irrigation system, cleared fields, mended fences. Everything looked very different from the shabby estate he had left behind him. A mixture of pride and shame invaded him. Pride for the competent wife she revealed to be, for this evidenced clearly her lead. Shame because he had allowed his own lands to decay long before he travelled to India.

Even though he rode to the place Hughes said they headed to, he did not meet her. He was not sure if he should. So he returned to the manor.

She did not return until late afternoon. He sat informally on the front steps cleaning his riffle when he spotted the three of them riding slowly towards the back entrance. The lady’s maid mule rode a behind them. Her horse and Coleman’s side by side. She wore an old-fashioned riding habit, too austere for her age. Her posture relaxed, she talked pleasantly with the steward. He answered back, and she laughed spontaneously.

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