Amara (Carlton House Cartel Book 2) Page 12

  Her own responses were less clear, and she could only hope that she hadn’t said anything that made her appear naïve or immature to such an experienced and sophisticated gentleman. She touched her lips that he had briefly—far too briefly—kissed, reliving the feel of the effervescent desire that had lanced through her veins at the time and had continued to do so periodically throughout the night. She hugged herself and smiled, dwelling upon the positive aspects of her rebellion for a glorious moment or two before planting her feet on the floor and scampering across to the ewer and washing her hands and face in the previous night’s cold water that Cora had conveniently forgotten to remove.

  Amara dressed herself in the oldest gown she possessed. It was far too elaborate for wandering about in muddy gardens, but there was no help for that. She struggled to lace herself into it unaided, ran a brush through her hair and carelessly tied it back with a ribbon. She felt positively decadent, never before having appeared outside without being impeccably attired, her every step dogged by at least one maid, often two or three. It was liberating, she decided, twirling in a circle and laughing at her unruly appearance before leaving her room without bothering to collect a pelisse or bonnet.

  She stepped outside and her hair was whipped about her face by the wind she had been watching from her bed. She laughed, lifted her face skywards and breathed deeply of the crisp, dry and salty air. Dark clouds above her head warned her that situation was unlikely to endure, which made Amara doubly determined to make the most of this temporary reprieve.

  She found the lake and wandered around it, attempting to identify some of the flowers in bloom in the beds she passed on the way. English horticulture was a mystery to her, apart from the early roses that gave off a heady perfume. The tranquillity of the moment soothed Amara’s jaded spirit and she allowed her mind to wander, refusing to dwell on the reality of her situation. She would have the rest of her life to regret all the things that could never be. For now, she vowed simply to make the most of her freedom.

  Thus resolved, she found a bridle path that showed recent signs of equine traffic in its muddy surface. She lifted her skirts, shrugging when she noticed some of the mud in question decorating the bottom of her petticoats. At least Cora would have something more practical to complain about.

  Sabine had mentioned her love of early morning rides, and Amara wondered if she was out this morning taking advantage of the break in the weather. Her question was answered when the sound of thundering hooves approaching reached her and she only just had time to jump back before two horses being ridden at speed galloped past her, divots of mud flying up from their hooves. Their riders drew rein when they saw Amara and Ace came panting up to her, tongue lolling, his coat splattered with mud too.

  ‘Sorry, Amara,’ Sabine said from the back of a beautiful dappled horse. ‘We didn’t see you until the last minute. I hope we didn’t startle you. We usually have the park to ourselves at this time of the day.’

  ‘Good morning, Miss Kazan,’ Lord Jonas added, looking amused rather than concerned at her unorthodox appearance.

  Amara was temporarily lost for words. If she thought her own attire was unconventional, it was nothing to the manner in which Sabine was clothed. She sat astride her horse wearing breeches and a man’s shirt, her hair a hopeless tangle around her shoulders, seemingly indifferent to the picture she presented.

  ‘Sorry,’ Sabine added, grinning and not looking the least bit sorry. ‘No one is supposed to see me looking like this. Are you terribly shocked?’

  Her father’s reaction to such a brazen display briefly flitted through Amara’s mind, visual evidence of the depraved behaviour of English females, or so he would undoubtedly believe. But Amara admired her new friend’s determination to conduct herself as she saw fit on her own property.

  ‘It must be so much more convenient riding astride,’ she said.

  ‘Precisely my point.’ Sabine leapt athletically from her saddle and landed gracefully on her feet at Amara’s side. She pulled her horse’s reins over his head and led him along behind them. ‘This way I can almost compete with Chance on equal terms. He only beats me because Legacy is a faster horse than Gandolf here.’ She paused to pat her horse’s nose. ‘Which means that the contest is not an even one, but at least I can give him a decent run for his money. Of course, he sometimes allows me to win, which annoys me intensely.’

  Lord Jonas, who had also dismounted, simply laughed. ‘I can assure you, Miss Kazan, that I know my place and wouldn’t dream of giving any quarter.’

  ‘Ha, so you say.’ Sabine tossed her head and handed her horse over to the groom who came running to take him, pausing to give his muzzle a final pat. ‘Give him a good rub down please, John. I am afraid I got him rather hot and muddy.’

  ‘Don’t worry, ma’am. We’ll take good care of him.’

  ‘We seem to be rather muddy too, Chance,’ Sabine said, glancing down at her splattered boots and shrugging. ‘This wretched summer seems determined to inconvenience us all.’

  Amara wasn’t quite sure whether she was expected to return to the house with Sabine and Lord Jonas. Since Sabine turned in that direction and continued to chat to Amara, she assumed that was the case and fell into step beside her.

  ‘Did you sleep well and have everything you needed for your comfort?’ Sabine asked.

  ‘Thank you, yes. I slept better than I have since arriving in Brighton.’

  ‘The sea air is more bracing up here than it is at actual sea level,’ Sabine said, ‘which probably accounts for it.’

  ‘We are glad you feel secure,’ Lord Jonas added graciously.

  ‘Were you taking advantage of the break in the weather and exploring the grounds?’ Sabine asked. ‘One assumes those dark clouds will deposit more rain before the day is out, so it was sensible of you to get a head start.’

  ‘I found rain rather exciting when I first arrived in this country,’ Amara replied. ‘We see so little of it in Greece, but the novelty has already worn off.’

  ‘And the damp has doubtless seeped into your bones,’ Sabine replied, with a sympathetic smile.

  ‘I did find it hard to keep warm at first, but as you see, I am adapting.’ She spread her arms to display the omission of a pelisse. The wind took advantage of her lack of a bonnet and tossed her hair in all directions. It would be a hopeless tangle, she thought, not really caring. ‘Cora will be horrified when she realises that I got up without her help.’

  ‘Have you taken breakfast?’ Sabine asked.

  ‘No. I didn’t want to…’

  ‘You didn’t want to ring for your maid and order it. I don’t blame you for wanting to see as little as possible of the woman.’ Sabine took her arm. ‘Come along. Chance and I were about to eat. Riding out early gives one an embarrassingly large appetite and you are welcome to join us. Don’t be shocked, but we have no intention of cleaning ourselves up first. We are far too hungry to bother.’

  ‘Thank you. If you are sure I won’t be intruding.’

  Lord Jonas laughed. ‘Sabine will enjoy having someone to converse with over the marmalade. Contrary fellow that I am, I seldom have much to say for myself this early in the day.’

  Amara followed the couple into a small parlour laid out with covered tureens. Ace sneaked in with them too, and crept under the table, presumably thinking that he wouldn’t be noticed.

  ‘Oh dear,’ Sabine laughed. ‘The rugs will be covered in the mud from his belly, but I don’t have the heart to send him to the scullery for a bath quite yet.’

  ‘He seems to think he is invisible,’ Amara said, smiling when the dog rested his big head on her feet and let out a contented sigh.

  A footman served them all with coffee and Amara, at Sabine’s bidding, helped herself to a far larger breakfast than she would normally manage. The combination of rebellion and early morning rambles had given her an appetite.

  They had only just started eating when the door opened to admit Eva. Lord Jonas stood but Eva waved hi
m back to his chair.

  ‘Good morning. Ah, there you are, my dear. Cora wanted to call out the guard because your room was empty. I assumed you had gone for a ramble.’ She looked amused by Amara’s dishevelled state. ‘I can see I was in the right of it.’

  ‘Do join us, if you have not already breakfasted, Eva,’ Sabine invited.

  ‘Oh, I wasn’t permitted to think about food while you were missing, Amara,’ Eva said, taking the chair that the footman held out for her. ‘I am surprised Cora even spared the time to help me dress. Mind you, I had to endure a long tirade about no good coming from our inflicting ourselves upon strangers who got up to who knows what—her words, of course,’ she added, smiling. ‘And I only let her run on because I found it amusing.’

  ‘She only need have enquired below stairs,’ Sabine pointed out. ‘I am perfectly sure that my butler would have seen Amara leave the house on her walk. Butlers always know everything, it’s rather expected of them, but I dare say the woman preferred to make a drama out of the situation.’

  ‘Ladies, if you will excuse me.’ Lord Jonas put his napkin aside and stood. Ace, who had been enjoying the odd titbit fed to him under the table by Amara, jumped to his feet, almost oversetting the table with his large body, and stood at Lord Jonas’s side, tail wagging. ‘I have received word that I am required at the pavilion. I dare say George requires extricating from some indiscretion or other. It’s like having an adult child sometimes,’ he said, rolling his eyes. ‘If any of you ladies require anything in Brighton I shall gladly run errands for you.’

  None of them did.

  ‘In that case, until later.’ He bent to kiss Sabine’s brow and bestowed a softly intimate smile upon her. Amara heard him warn her to behave.

  ‘Really, he treats me like a child sometimes,’ Sabine said, watching the door close behind man and dog. But she continued to smile long after his footsteps had receded and there was no doubting the devotion in her expression. ‘As though I am incapable of behaving myself.’ She dismissed the suggestion with an airy wave. ‘He will be off to the pavilion, of course. Sometimes I think he prefers the prince’s company to mine.’

  ‘That I very much doubt,’ Eva replied, buttering a slice of toast. ‘It is clear to one and all that he adores you.’

  ‘I suppose I had better tidy myself up and face Cora’s wrath,’ Amara said, once she had finished eating and had drunk two cups of strong, sweet coffee.

  ‘Don’t allow her to bully you,’ Sabine advised.

  ‘Have no fear. I shall not.’

  ‘Come back down when you are ready,’ Sabine said, ‘and if the rain holds off, I will give you both a tour of the gardens.’

  ‘That would be lovely if you can spare the time. Thank you so much.’

  ‘There is nothing I would enjoy more.’

  Amara ran up the stairs, liking Sabine more as she grew to know her better. She hadn’t had many friends during her childhood, despite the fact that she was surrounded by people the entire time and never seemed to have a moment’s solitude. The young girls she was permitted to mix with were all approved by her father beforehand with no thought given to the likelihood of their getting along. Such acquaintanceships tended to be stilted and short-lived, since Amara found she had little in common with the companions chosen for her other than accident of birth, and found most of them immature. For their part, they seemed to resent both her appearance and her singing voice, and Amara lost all patience with their petty jealousies.

  Sabine was entirely different—independent, opinionated and the greatest possible fun. She seemed to genuinely like Amara for herself, to say nothing of sharing her quixotic character. A character that had remained so well suppressed that Amara hadn’t known of its existence until she had arrived in England and took control, albeit momentarily, of her own destiny.

  Her impulsiveness filled her with a self-confidence that her supposed beauty and singing voice had failed to engender, and Amara rather enjoyed the changes in her character.

  ‘What in heaven’s name do you think you’re about, showing yourself in such a state?’ Cora demanded the moment Amara walked into her room looking dishevelled. The outburst momentarily soured Amara’s mood.

  ‘What I choose to do and how I choose to appear is no business of yours, and I’ll thank you to keep a civil tongue in your head.’ Amara fully intended to keep her word to Sabine and not allow the woman to bully her. ‘Lay out the striped muslin walking gown and bring up hot water.’ Cora gaped at Amara’s commanding tone and didn’t move a muscle. ‘Now, if you please!’ Amara clapped her hands and Cora finally shuffled from the room, muttering imprecations about young girls who forget their duty.

  Amara smiled as she watched her go, enjoying her victory in this latest skirmish with her maid. She sat at the window as she awaited Cora’s return and allowed herself to relive her interlude with Louis the previous evening for the hundredth time, wondering what he was doing at that moment and whether he had spared her more than a passing thought.

  ‘Come into the morning room, Eva, if you have finished,’ Sabine invited. ‘It gets what sun there is to be had at this time of day and we will be at leisure to converse until Amara rejoins us.’

  ‘I have finished, thank you,’ Eva replied standing and smiling at Sabine. ‘You are very gracious.’

  ‘Not a bit of it. Truth to tell I welcome the company, despite the fact that I am perfectly happy living here alone as a general rule—which probably sounds like a contradiction.’ They entered a pretty room with a view over the gardens. A weak sun played hide-and-seek with the clouds and Eva could see that the wind blowing in from the sea was gusty. They took seats across from one another. ‘I shared this house, my childhood home, with my husband. It was not a happy time for me, which is partly why I withdrew from the world. My younger sister lived with me but now…well, it’s a long story, but she is married and I don’t see her anymore.’

  Eva was surprised by Sabine’s candour, but sensed that she required a sympathetic ear and was happy to oblige by sharing confidences of her own—something she seldom did. Some things were just too personal and painful to put into words. ‘There is no one who knows more about unhappy marriages than me,’ she said. ‘Amara’s father became head of our family when I was seventeen and took it upon himself to marry me off to a wealthy Athenian with whom he had business interests.’

  ‘Ah, I wondered if that might be the case.’

  Eva smiled. ‘Because I have encouraged Amara to have a mind of her own, I imagine you mean. Well yes, that is what I have done. My brother will be furious, but there’s no help for that. Amara deserves to enjoy some freedom before history repeats itself.’

  ‘Your brother has someone in mind for her?’

  ‘Oh yes. Amara is not enthusiastic about the match, but she knows she can’t prevaricate for much longer. Most Greek girls are married long before they reach the age of twenty. Besides, she wouldn’t dream of defying her father. When the possibility of La Scala arose, for which I suppose we must thank Lykaios, I encouraged her to barter with her father. She would marry her father’s choice if she was permitted to sing in Italy before entering into the engagement.’

  ‘A heavy price to pay if she dislikes the man, but I suppose she has no choice.’

  ‘None whatsoever, but now I wonder if I did the right thing.’

  Sabine nodded and smiled. ‘You have noticed that she returns Louis Harland’s interest in her?’

  Eva smiled too. ‘It would be hard to miss. I have never seen Amara half so taken with any of the dozens of men who have vied for her attention over recent years. Fortunately, I like him very much. It’s such a shame.’ She sighed. ‘Nothing can come of it, obviously. If Amara took it into her head to remain in this country, the squabble over those wretched marbles would seem like a mild disagreement between friends compared to the storm that my brother would create.’

  ‘I thought as much, the poor child.’

  ‘We have both been there, you and
I, but she doesn’t understand the full particulars of what lies in wait for her and I would keep it that way.’ Eva sighed. ‘Anyway, perhaps it will not be so very bad for her. Our views on the subject of matrimony, you must agree, are understandably skewed, but it is possible that Amara’s husband will at least be kind and considerate.’

  ‘One can but hope. I assume Amara will not be permitted to display her remarkable talent in public once she is married, which will be the most terrible pity, especially for those denied the privilege of hearing her.’

  ‘Good heavens, no! I understand the man my brother intends for her raised considerable objections to her singing at La Scala. Goodness alone knows what he and my brother will make of her coming here, but we will worry about that when the time comes. I am quite determined that she will have some fun in the meantime. I just hope that she doesn’t end up with a broken heart.’

  ‘Life has a way of resolving these issues,’ Sabine said.

  ‘I don’t mean to be indiscreet, but that is easier for you to say since it is obvious that you have found your heart’s desire in Lord Jonas. We are not all that fortunate.’

  ‘Oh, I am well aware of my good fortune in that regard, which is why I choose not to marry him.’

  Eva, one of the few women in the world likely to understand her reservations, nodded. ‘Very sensible.’

  ‘There is nothing to say that you must return to Greece if you would prefer not to,’ Sabine said, ‘and if you decide against it, I am very sure you would find happiness here. Our attitude is generally more liberal, and we English do at least know how to enjoy ourselves. Women are still very much second class citizens, of course, but they are not as suppressed as your countrywomen, I think.’