He was watching her closely, desperately trying to gauge her reaction. She, for her part, found that she was unable to meet his eyes, afraid of what she might see. Surely he was still play-acting? At that thought a tiny ache crept into her heart and she knew that she was close to tears.
At that moment Judith bent to retrieve the papers that had fallen from her brother-in-law’s hands during the scuffle, frowning as she happened to catch sight of her butler’s name on one of the sheets.
‘What are these lists, Robert?’ she inquired, beginning to peruse them more carefully.
Sandford dropped Harriet’s hands and leapt to his feet in consternation, plucking the papers from Judith’s hands and thrusting them into a drawer.
‘Really, Judith,’ he chided, raising an eyebrow. ‘Reading other people’s private correspondence. What would your mother say!’
Judith flushed.
‘Don’t be a beast, Robert,’ she said. ‘That was a list of Westpark staff, as well you know. That is my business, surely?’
The viscount shrugged his shoulders carelessly.
‘It’s just something that Charles and I are working on,’ he said, searching desperately for a brainwave. ‘Er—fact is, we’re trying to cut back a bit!’
‘Cut back!’ Judith was astounded, then her eyes grew anxious. ‘We’re not in any trouble, are we, Robert? I thought Charles had been managing rather well …’
‘Nothing for you to worry about,’ said Sandford, mentally crossing himself. ‘We thought we might try to cut out some duplication, that’s all—too many people doing the same job, it seems to me.’
‘But you can’t be thinking of putting people off?’
‘No, no—just moving some of ‘em around, perhaps. It’s not a problem, honestly, Judith. Please forget about it.’
Only partly convinced, Judith dropped the subject and set about extracting a promise from Sandford to bring Harriet to Westpark for dinner the following evening. Having got the nod from that bemused young lady, the viscount agreed and Judith, kissing each of them in turn, forbade them to quarrel and left the room to seek out her mother-in-law.
Harriet turned at once to follow, but Sandford put out his hand to detain her.
‘And where are you off to in such a hurry?’ he demanded softly, the dangerous gleam once more in his eyes.
Harriet looked at him gravely.
‘You don’t have to keep up the pretence any longer, my lord,’ she said calmly. ‘Judith cannot hear you. But I must commend you on your excellent performance.’
‘What the—what absurd fancy has got into your head now?’ he groaned, clutching his brow.
‘Thanks to your clever subterfuge, my lord,’ said Harriet, ignoring Sandford’s incredulous expression, ‘Judith has returned home in a happier frame of mind than that with which she arrived. Your part was so well enacted that it prevented her from asking any awkward questions about my—mishap—and for that I am deeply grateful, for I find that I cannot lie to her any longer—whatever your opinion of my talents in that direction!’ Her voice trembled at this point and she looked away.
Sandford sat on the edge of the desk, carefully contemplating Harriet’s averted gaze. Tentatively, he reached out and, taking both her hands in his own, he drew her gently towards him, holding his breath as he felt her initial resistance slip away.
‘Look at me, Harriet,’ he pleaded.
In trepidation, Harriet obeyed and, raising her eyes to meet his, was confused to behold, not the confident gleam of amusement she had expected, but a very shamefaced expression.
‘I don’t know where to start,’ he said, his voice low and hesitant. ‘You said you hated me—I don’t blame you—I hate myself. Please don’t punish me any further!’
‘You called me a witch!’ she said tremulously.
‘Oh, but you are a witch!’ Half-smiling, he lifted one hand and traced his fingers down her cheek. ‘You have bewitched me.’
Harriet dashed his hand away in vexation. ‘You didn’t believe me,’ she cried. ‘Twice—no, three times—you didn’t believe me!’
‘I am a contemptible swine,’ he said, his throat tightening at the memory.
‘You accused me of—of—dreadful things!’ Harriet found that she couldn’t bear the look of anguish in his eyes.
‘I know I deserve to be horsewhipped,’ he choked, his confidence on the verge of destruction.
‘Horses shouldn’t be whipped,’ she whispered, her lips trembling.
‘But I should?’ A flicker of hope had crept into his voice. ‘I didn’t say that, my lord.’ ‘Robert,’ he said fiercely.
Startled, she tried to move away from him, but he still held one hand tightly in his grasp and seemed intent upon recapturing the other.
‘Lord Sandford,’ she protested, weakly, ‘please release me. This is most improper!’
‘Call me Robert,’ he cajoled her, the fire back in his eyes. ‘Then maybe I shall let you go.’
‘Maybe! That’s very poor odds!’ Harriet replied spiritedly.
He put his head on one side as though considering this point, then nodded. ‘True. Call me Robert and I promise not to kiss you. How’s that?’
Scandalised, Harriet struggled to free herself. ‘You wouldn’t dare—you told me that you were no ravisher!’
‘There’s a first time for everything,’ he said coolly. ‘Call me Robert.’
Harriet stopped struggling and regarded him balefully. ‘Well, if it means so much to you—Robert,’ she said, through clenched teeth. ‘Now let me go.’ ‘Say it again—nicely!’
‘Oh, Robert! Robert! Robert! Damn you!’ she exclaimed, without thought for the consequences.
‘Harriet, my love, you are truly magnificent!’ Sandford stood up, swept her towards him and wrapped his arms around her, ignoring her squeal of dismay.
‘Stop struggling—otherwise I shall forget myself—that’s better. Now, listen to me, Harriet—please.’
For a moment he stood very quietly, simply holding her against him and, as her eyes crept up to his face, she could see that he had become very serious once more. She didn’t move, somehow content to remain within the circle of his arms, listening to the rapid beating of his heart. At last he spoke.
‘I know that nothing I can say will undo the hurt that I’ve caused you …’ He hesitated, choosing his words with meticulous care. ‘And it is probably of very little interest to you to know that, far from play-acting, I truly believe that I love you.’ She quivered and his arms tightened. ‘Yes, I do. I had begun to hope that you might learn to hold me in similar regard—I admit that I was mad with jealousy and so desperately afraid, my darling, I think I was about to lose my reason. I was ready to commit murder—I know that now. You brought me to my senses when you struck me and I knew instantly that I had been wrong—that the whole thing was clearly a well-executed plot …’
He stopped as Harriet pulled away from him.
‘Why were you so ready to think the worst of me?’ she cried. ‘You refused even to listen to me!’
Sandford grimaced, finding the memory of that episode of his behaviour particularly repugnant.
‘I had found certain items in a clearing near the gate,’ he said,