Seduce Me At Sunrise

Chapter Six

London, 1851

Spring

At long last, Win had come home.

The clipper from Calais was docked, the hold packed with luxury goods, and bags of letters and parcels to be delivered by the Royal Mail. It was a medium-sized ship with seven spacious staterooms for the passengers, each lined with Gothic arched panels and painted a glossy shade of Florence white.

Win stood on the deck and watched the crew employing the ground tackle to moor the ship. Only then would the passengers be allowed to disembark.

Once, the excitement that gripped her would have made it impossible to breathe. But Win was returning to London a different woman. She wondered how her family would react to the changes in her. And of course they had changed as well: Amelia and Cam had been married for two years now, and Poppy and Beatrix were now out in society.

And Merripen… but Win's mind shied from thoughts of him, which were too stirring to dwell on in anything other than a private setting.

She gazed at her surroundings, the forest of ship masts, the endless acres of quay and jetty, the immense warehouses for tobacco, wool, wine, and other items of commerce. There was movement everywhere, sailors, passengers, provision agents, laborers, vehicles, and livestock. A profusion of odors thickened the air: goats and horses, spices, ocean salt, tar, dry rot. And above all hung the stench of chimney smoke and coal vapor, darkening as the night pressed close over the city.

Win longed to be in Hampshire, where the spring meadows would be green and thick with primroses and wildflowers and the hedgerows were in bloom. According to Amelia, the restoration of the Ramsay estate was not yet complete, but the manor was habitable now. It seemed the work had gone with miraculous speed under Merripen's direction.

The gangplank was lowered from the vessel and secured. As Win watched the first few passengers descend to the dock, she saw her brother's tall, almost lanky form leading the way.

France had been good for both of them. Whereas Win had gained some much-needed weight, Leo had lost his dissipated bloat. He had spent so much time out-of-doors, walking, painting, swimming, that his dark brown hair had lightened a few shades and his skin had soaked up sun. His eyes, a striking pale shade of blue, were startling in his tanned face.

Win knew that her brother would never again be the gallant, unguarded boy he had been before Laura Dillard's death. But he was no longer a suicidal wreck, which would no doubt be a great relief to the rest of the family.

In a relatively short time, Leo bounded back up the gangplank. He came to Win with a wry grin, clamping his top hat more firmly on his head.

"Is anyone waiting for us?" Win asked eagerly.

"No."

Worry creased her forehead. "They didn't receive my letter, then." She and Leo had sent word that they would be arriving a few days earlier than expected, owing to a change in the clipper line's schedule.

"Your letter is probably stuck at the bottom of a Royal Mail satchel somewhere," Leo said. "Don't worry, Win. We'll go to the Rutledge by hackney. It isn't far."

"But it will be a shock to the family for us to arrive before we're expected."

"Our family likes to be shocked," he said. "Or at least, they're accustomed to it."

"They'll also be surprised that Dr. Harrow has come back with us."

"I'm sure they won't mind his presence at all," Leo replied. One corner of his mouth twitched in private amusement. "Well… most of them won't."

Evening had fallen by the time they reached the Rut-ledge Hotel. Leo arranged for rooms and managed the luggage, while Win and Dr. Harrow waited in a corner of the spacious lobby.

"I'll allow you to reunite with your family in private," Harrow said. "My manservant and I will go to our rooms and unpack."

"You are welcome to come with us," Win said, but she was secretly relieved when he shook his head.

"I won't intrude. Your reunion should be private."

"But we will see you in the morning?" Win asked.

Yes." He stood looking down at her, a slight smile on his lips.

Dr. Julian Harrow was an elegant man, supernally composed, effortlessly charming. He was dark-haired and gray-eyed and possessed a square-jawed attractiveness that had caused nearly all of his female patients to fall a little bit in love with him. One of the women at the clinic had remarked dryly that Harrow 's personal magnetism not only affected men, women, and children but also extended to armoires, assorted chairs, and the nearby goldfish in a bowl.

As Leo had put it: " Harrow doesn't look at all like a doctor. He looks like a woman's fantasy of a doctor. I suspect half his practice consists of love-struck females who prolong their illness merely to continue being treated by him."

"I assure you," Win had said, laughing, "I am neither love struck, nor am I the least bit inclined to prolong my illness."

But she had to admit, it was difficult not to feel something for a man who was attractive, attentive, and had also cured her of a debilitating condition. And Win thought Julian might possibly have feelings for her in return. During the past year, especially, when Win's health had rebounded into full vitality, Julian had begun to treat her as something more than a mere patient. They had gone on long walks through the impossibly romantic scenery of Provence, and he had flirted with her, and made her laugh. His attentions had soothed her wounded spirit after Merripen had so callously ignored her.

Eventually Win had accepted that the feelings she had for Merripen were not reciprocated. She had even cried on Leo's shoulder. Her brother had pointed out that she had seen very little of the world and knew next to nothing about men.

"Don't you think it's possible your attachment to Merripen was a result of proximity as much as anything else?" Leo had asked gently. "Let's look at the situation honestly, Win. You have nothing in common with him. You're a lovely, sensitive, literate woman, and he's… Merripen. He likes to chop wood for entertainment. And apparently it falls to me to point out the indelicate truth that some couples are well-suited in the bedroom but not anywhere else."

Win had been shocked out of her tears by his blunt-ness. "Leo Hathaway, are you suggesting-"

"Lord Ramsay now, thank you," he had teased.

"Lord Ramsay, are you suggesting that my feelings for Merripen arc carnal in nature?"

"They're certainly not intellectual," Leo had said, and grinned as she punched him in the shoulder.

After much reflection, however. Win had had to admit that Leo had a point. Of course, Merripen was far more intelligent, and educated, than her brother gave him credit for. As far as she remembered, Merripen had challenged Leo in many a philosophical discussion and had memorized more Greek and Latin than anyone else in the family except her father. But Merripen had only learned those things to fit in with the Hathaways, not because he had any real interest in obtaining an education.

Merripen was a man of nature; he craved the feel of earth and sky. He would never be more than half-tame. And he and Win were as different as fish from fowl.

Julian took her hand in his long, elegant one. His fingers were smooth and well tended, tapered at the tips. "Winnifred," he said gently, "now that we're away from the clinic, life won't be quite so well regulated. You must safeguard your health. Make certain you rest tonight, no matter how tempting it is to stay up all hours."

"Yes, Doctor," Win said, smiling up at him. She felt a surge of affection for him, remembering the first time she had managed to climb the exercise ladder in the clinic. Julian had been behind her every step, his encouragements soft in her ear, his chest firm against her back. A little higher, Winnifred. I won't let you fall. He hadn't done any of the work for her. Only kept her safe as she climbed.

"I'm a bit nervous," Win admitted as Leo escorted her to the Hathaways' suite on the hotel's second floor.

"Why?"

"I'm not sure. Perhaps because we've all changed."

"The essential things haven't changed." Leo gripped her elbow firmly. "You're still the delightful girl you were. And I'm still a scoundrel with a taste for spirits and lightskirts."

"Leo," she said, darting a quick frown at him. "You're not planning to go back to your old ways, are you?"

"I will avoid temptation," he replied, "unless it happens to fall directly in my path." He stopped her at the middle landing. "Do you want to pause for a moment?"

"Not at all." Win continued enthusiastically upward. "I love stair climbing. I love doing anything I couldn't do before. And from now on I'm going to live by the motto 'Life is to be lived to the fullest.'"

Leo grinned. "You should know that I've said that on many occasions in the past, and it always got me in trouble."

Win glanced at her surroundings with pleasure. After living in the austere surroundings of Harrow 's clinic for so long, she would enjoy a taste of luxury.

Elegant, modern, and supremely comfortable, the Rutledge was owned by the mysterious Harry Rutledge, about whom there were so many rumors that no one could even say definitively whether he was British or American. All that was known for certain was that he had lived for a time in America and had come to England to create a hotel that combined the opulence of Europe with the best of American innovations.

The Rutledge was the first hotel to design every single bedroom en suite with its own private bathroom. And there were delights such as food service lifts, built-in cupboards in the bedrooms, private meeting rooms with atrium glass ceilings, and gardens designed as outdoor rooms. The hotel also featured a dining room that was said to be the most beautiful in England, with so many chandeliers that the ceiling had required extra reinforcements during construction.

They reached the door of the Hathaways' suite, and Leo knocked gently.

There were a few movements within. The door opened to reveal a young fair-haired maid. The maid's gaze swept over the both of them. "May I help you, sir?" she asked Leo.

"We've come to see Mr. and Mrs. Rohan."

"Beg pardon, sir, but they have just retired for the evening."

The hour was quite late, Win thought, deflated. "We should go our rooms and let them rest," she told Leo. "We'll come back in the morning."

Leo stared at the housemaid with a slight smile, and asked in a soft, low voice, "What is your name, child?"

Her brown eyes widened, and a blush crept up her cheeks. "Abigail, sir."

"Abigail," he repeated. "Tell Mrs. Rohan that her sister is here and wishes to see her."

"Yes, sir." The maid giggled and left them at the door.

Win gave her brother a wry glance as he helped to remove her cloak. "Your way with women never fails to astonish me."

"Most women have a tragic attraction to rakes," he said regretfully. "I really shouldn't use it against them."

Someone came into the receiving room. He saw Amelia's familiar form, clad in a blue dressing robe, accompanied by Cam Rohan, who was handsomely disheveled in an open-necked shirt and trousers.

Her blue eyes as round as saucers, Amelia stopped at the sight of her brother and sister. A white hand fluttered to Amelia's throat. "Is it really you?" she asked unsteadily.

Win tried to smile, but it was impossible when her lips were trembling with emotion. She tried to imagine how she must appear to Amelia, who had seen her last as a frail invalid. "I'm home," she said, a slight break in her voice.

"Oh, Win! I dreamed-I so hoped-" Amelia stopped and rushed forward, and their arms went around each other, fast and tight.

Win closed her eyes and sighed, feeling that at last she had come home. My sister. She basked in the soft comfort of Amelia's arms.

"You're so beautiful," Amelia said, drawing back to cup Win's wet cheeks with her hands. "So healthy and strong. Oh, look at this goddess. Cam, just look at her!"

"You look well," Rohan told Win, his eyes glowing. "Better than I've ever seen you, little sister." Carefully he embraced her and kissed her forehead. "Welcome back."

"Where are Poppy and Beatrix?" Win asked, clinging to Amelia's hand.

"They're abed, but I'll go wake them."

"No, let them sleep," Win said quickly. "We shan't stay for long-we're both exhausted-but I had to see you before retiring for the night."

Amelia's gaze went to Leo, who had hung back near the door. Win heard the quiet intake of her sister's breath as she saw the changes in him.

"There's my old Leo," Amelia said softly.

Win was surprised to see a flicker of something in Leo's sardonic expression-a sort of boyish vulnerability, as if he was embarrassed by his own pleasure in the reunion. "Now you'll weep for a different cause," he told Amelia. "Because as you see, I've come back as well."

She flew to him, and was swallowed in a strong embrace. "The French wouldn't have you?" she asked, her voice muffled against his chest.

"On the contrary, they adored me. But there's no entertainment in staying where one is wanted."

"That's too bad," Amelia said, standing on her toes to kiss his cheek. "Because you're very much wanted here."

Smiling, Leo reached out to shake Rohan's hand. "I look forward to seeing the improvements you wrote about. It seems the estate is thriving."

"You can ask Merripen on the morrow," Rohan replied easily. "He knows every inch of the place, and the name of every servant and tenant. And he has much to say on the subject, so be forewarned that any conversation about the estate will be a lengthy one."

"On the morrow," Leo repeated, giving Win a quick glance. "He's in London then?"

"Here at the Rutledge. He's in town to visit a placement agency to hire more servants."

"I have much to thank Merripen for," Leo said with uncharacteristic sincerity, "and you as well, Rohan. The devil knows why you've undertaken so much for my sake."

"It was for the family's sake, as well."

As the two men talked, Amelia drew Win to a settee near the hearth. "Your face is fuller," Amelia said, openly cataloging the changes in her sister. "Your eyes are brighter, and your figure is altogether splendid."

"No more corsets," Win said with a grin. "Dr. Harrow says they compress the lungs, force the spine and head into an unnatural attitude, and weaken the back muscles."

"Scandalous!" Amelia exclaimed, her eyes sparkling. "No corset even on formal occasions?"

"He allows that I might wear one very rarely, but only loosely laced."

"What else does Dr. Harrow say?" Amelia was clearly entertained. "Any opinions on stockings and garters?"

"You may hear it from the source himself," Win said. "Leo and I have brought Dr. Harrow back with us."

"Lovely. Does he have business here?"

"Not that I know of."

"I suppose since he's from London, he has relations and friends to meet?"

"Yes, that's part of it, but-" Win felt herself flush a little. "Julian has expressed a personal interest in spending time with me away from the setting of the clinic."

Amelia's lips parted in surprise. "Julian," she repeated. "Does he mean to court you, Win?"

"I'm not sure. I'm not at all experienced in these matters. But I think so."

"Do you like him?"

Win nodded without hesitation. "Quite a lot."

"Then I'm certain to like him as well. And I will be glad of the chance to thank him personally for what he has done."

They grinned at each other, basking in the delight of being reunited. But after a moment Win thought of Merripen, and her pulse began to throb with uncomfortable force, and nerves jumped everywhere in her body.

"How is he, Amelia?" she finally brought herself to whisper.

There was no need for Amelia to ask who "he" was. "Merripen has changed," she said cautiously, "nearly as much as you and Leo. Cam says what Merripen has accomplished with the estate is no less than astounding. It requires a broad array of skills to direct builders, craftsmen, and groundsmen, and also to repair the tenant farms. And Merripen has done it all. When necessary, he'll strip off his coat and lend his own back to a task. He's earned the respect of the workers-they never dare to question his authority."

"I'm not surprised, of course," Win said, while a bittersweet feeling came over her. "He has always been a very capable man. But when you say he has changed, what do you mean?"

"He has become rather… hard."

"Hard-hearted? Stubborn?"

"Yes, and remote. He seems to take no satisfaction in his success, nor does he exhibit any real pleasure in life. Oh, he has learned a great deal, and he wields authority effectively, and he dresses better to befit his new position. But oddly, he seems less civilized than ever. I think…" An uncomfortable pause. "Perhaps it may help him to see you again. You were always a good influence."

Win eased her hands away and glowered down at her own lap. "I doubt that. I doubt I have any influence on Merripen whatsoever. He has made his lack of interest very clear."

"Lack of interest?" Amelia repeated, and gave a strange little laugh. "No, Win, I wouldn't say that at all. Any mention of you earns his closest attention."

"One may judge a man's feelings by his actions." Win sighed and rubbed her weary eyes. "At first I was hurt by the way he ignored my letters. Then I was angry. Now I merely feel foolish."

"Why, dear?" Amelia asked, her blue eyes filled with concern.

For loving, and having that love tossed back in her face. For wasting an ocean's worth of tears on a big, hard-hearted brute.

And for still wanting to see him despite all that.

Win shook her head. The talk of Merripen had made her agitated and melancholy. "I'm weary after the long journey, Amelia," she said with a half smile. "Would you mind if I-"

"No, no, go at once," her sister said, drawing Win up from the settee and putting a protective arm around her. "Leo, do take Win to her room. You're both exhausted. We'll have time for talking tomorrow."

"Ah, that lovely tone of command," Leo reminisced. "I'd hoped that by now you would have rid her of the habit of barking out orders like a drill sergeant, Rohan."

"I enjoy all her habits," Rohan replied, smiling at his wife.

"What room is Merripen in?" Win whispered to Amelia.

"Third floor, number twenty-one," Amelia whispered back. "But you mustn't go tonight, dear."

"Of course." Win smiled at her. "The only thing I intend to do tonight is go to bed without delay."