Falling for His Practical Wife Read online

  ‘I think you’re just going to have to tear your dress,’ he said eventually.

  Above him Lady Annabelle nodded, but didn’t move.

  ‘If I drop from here, the dress will hold me too close to the wall.’

  He saw the problem. Her skin would be scraped against the brickwork unless she could propel herself far enough out.

  ‘Plant your feet on the wall and push as you let go. I will stand underneath and catch you.’

  It looked as though she were about to protest again, but then she simply nodded, placed her feet squarely on the wall and pushed. There was a loud ripping sound and Leo barely had time to brace himself before Lady Annabelle came hurtling through the air towards him. He caught her, but the force of her pushed him off his feet and they ended up in a tangled pile on the ground.

  Lady Annabelle’s pointy little elbow caught him full force in his stomach, pushing the air from his lungs and for a long moment he couldn’t do anything but lie there with her on top of him, trying to catch his breath.

  After twenty seconds Lady Annabelle began to wriggle, pushing herself up on her hands to look down at him. He was acutely aware of how her body was pressing into his.

  ‘Are you hurt?’ Her brows were furrowed and her eyes were flitting over him as if trying to assess for injuries.

  Firmly he put his hands on her arms and rolled her to one side, groaning as he sat up.

  ‘Nothing permanent,’ he said gruffly, testing out his arms and legs. His back was jarred from the impact with the ground and his abdomen felt a little tender from where she had landed on top of him, but nothing was broken.

  ‘Thank you for breaking my fall.’ She scrambled to her feet, hands searching her hair for the veil she normally wore over her face that had become dislodged in the fall. As she realised it was missing her expression turned to one of panic and her eyes began darting from left to right, searching for the thin piece of fabric.

  Leo felt it under his elbow and got to his feet, holding it out and unable to look away as she took it with relief and fastened it back into place. She seemed to relax once her face was shadowed by the veil, not noticing her skirt was ripped and open at the front, revealing her petticoats and stockings underneath.

  ‘I’m not sure there is anything we can do to fix your dress,’ Leo said, trying not to look at the slender calves that poked out from underneath her petticoats.

  ‘Oh.’ Lady Annabelle looked down in dismay and quickly gathered the material around her, grimacing as she realised quite how ripped her dress was.

  ‘What an earth were you thinking, climbing out of the window like that?’ He heard the anger in his voice, even though it wasn’t his place to be angry with her. She was not his responsibility, not his sister or his wife. If she wanted to risk life and limb climbing out of windows, then really it was none of his concern.

  ‘I was locked in.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’

  From under the veil her eyes sought out his and he saw her chin raise a notch. Lady Annabelle might hide from society, but she had a backbone and it would seem his tone had rankled her.

  ‘Why do you think I was climbing out of the window, Mr Ashburton? It was hardly for fun,’ she said frostily. ‘My mother left without checking if I was still in the house and locked the front door with the only key. All the other doors and windows have been locked for days in preparation for our departure. That upstairs window doesn’t lock, so it was my only option.’

  ‘Your mother left you behind?’ He knew Lady Hummingford was an unfeeling woman, but even for her it seemed a bit harsh.

  ‘I’m sure it was an accident.’ Her voice was steady, but he saw her wince underneath the veil. Quickly she turned her back to him, ostensibly looking up at the house and the window she’d made her escape through, but he wondered if it was to hide the pain she felt at being so insignificant in her mother’s thoughts.

  ‘I am sorry I was delayed,’ he said quietly. ‘I had meant to be here to ensure everything went smoothly.’

  ‘It does not matter, Mr Ashburton. Please do not feel you have to wait with me either. I’m sure my mother will send the carriage back for me just as soon as she realises what has occurred.’

  He wondered if she actually expected him to ride off without a backwards glance, leaving her alone and abandoned. Leo shook his head. He knew he had a reputation for being a cold man, a difficult man to know or like, but he had been brought up a gentleman and a gentleman would never leave a lady in distress, no matter how little she cared for his assistance.

  ‘You can ride with me,’ he said, walking over to where his horse was happily munching on some grass from the lawn to the side of the house.

  That made Lady Annabelle turn and face him. Although from his current distance he couldn’t see the expression on her face, he rather liked to think it was one of surprise.

  ‘Surely it’ll be too much for your horse to carry both of us.’

  ‘Emperor is strong and we can take it slowly. The ride is less than an hour.’

  Still she hesitated, so he led the horse over to her.

  ‘Let me help you up.’

  Deftly he helped her on to Emperor’s back, ensuring she was comfortable in the spot in front of the saddle before he mounted behind her. He felt her stiffen as his body made contact with hers, but then with a flick of the reins they were off down the drive.

  Chapter Two

  Dear Beth,

  Have you ever, through no real fault of your own, muddied the knees of a gentleman’s breeches as you both sailed towards the ground?

  For the first five minutes Annabelle sat stiffly on the back of the majestic horse. It was the closest she’d ever been to a man and the closest she’d been to anyone save her mother and sister for a long time. Out of habit she raised one hand to check her veil was in place before remembering Mr Ashburton was behind her and unable to see her face even if he leaned around.

  One of his arms was resting in the curve of her waist as he gripped the reins lightly with a single hand. The other hand was steadying her, placed carefully above her hip. For anyone else it might have been an intimate gesture, but Annabelle knew Mr Ashburton was only doing his duty. He was a man who took his duty seriously. When she and Josh were courting, Beth had told her how Leo was always dashing to old Lord Abbingdon’s bedside, ready to take on new responsibilities as the old Viscount’s health failed. Then there was she and her mother. He had promised that he would see them settled in a new home, with Birling View sold and their debts settled, and that was exactly what he was doing. Even if it inconvenienced him.

  ‘Thank you for coming down today,’ she said, turning her head slightly so her words weren’t whipped away by the breeze.

  ‘It is a good job I did, otherwise you might still be hanging out of the first-floor window.’

  Annabelle ignored the comment and pushed on with her thanks. She had been raised to be polite and, even if she disliked this man sitting behind her, she would remember her manners.

  ‘I must thank you especially for sending the carriage for Mother. I think she would have refused to leave if she had had to travel in the cart.’

  ‘And you? I sent the carriage for both of you.’

  ‘Mother thought it best someone travel with the furniture.’ She tried not to let her voice quaver. Mr Ashburton didn’t need to know how much that decision had stung her.

  ‘Hmm.’

  They were on the top of the cliffs now, following the narrow path a few feet from the edge. Annabelle felt the tears sting her eyes as she looked at the view. Twenty-one years she had lived at Birling View and, for all her living memory, she had only ventured further than these cliffs on a handful of occasions. This was her home, her sanctuary, or at least it had been.

  ‘Are you unwell, Lady Annabelle?’

  She realised she had taken a shuddering br
eath to try to suppress the tears that were welling in her eyes and Mr Ashburton with his hand on her waist had felt the movement.

  ‘No, just a little emotional. I am practical about our need to leave Birling View, but that doesn’t make it any less difficult.’

  ‘It is your home.’

  ‘I have many happy memories here. Memories of my father and my sister.’ Her father was gone, he’d passed away five years earlier, and now Beth had left, too. She would never begrudge her sister her new life in India with the man she loved, but she missed her sorely already and she’d only been gone a month.

  To her surprise Mr Ashburton pulled gently on the reins and slipped out of the saddle, holding up a hand to help her down.

  ‘There is no great hurry,’ he said quietly, ‘Take a few moments.’

  She blinked in surprise at the softness of his tone and then realised that he understood a little of what she was feeling. He might not have lost his home, but his brother had left alongside her sister, and neither of them knew when they would see their beloved siblings again.

  Walking to the edge of the cliff, Annabelle lifted her veil and felt the warm breeze on her face. She loved the salty tang to the air and the distant call of the seagulls. Down below her she could hear the waves crashing into the cliff, churning up the water as it hit the chalk. For a moment she closed her eyes and allowed the flood of memories: playing on the cliffs with Beth, going for solitary winter walks when the wind was so cold it felt as though her eyelashes might freeze together. Tending the gardens of Birling View in her muddy boots, she and Beth giggling as they had no clue how to make a garden thrive.

  Her sister always worried Annabelle’s life was too small, too insular. She’d shunned company because of the scars on her face and the spiteful comments of people when she did go out, but she had grown to love her little world and could have happily lived out her years in Birling View with just her books for company.

  With a sigh she dropped her head back, startled when she felt something thump into her so hard she was catapulted back on to the grass.

  In amazement she realised Mr Ashburton was lying on top of her, pinning her to the ground. He was a big man, at least six feet tall with a muscular physique. She was small, in stature and build, and completely immobilised by his weight upon her.

  For a moment she was too shocked to say anything. She looked up at him and saw the concern on his face.

  ‘You thought I was going to jump?’ she murmured.

  ‘You closed your eyes. You took a step forward.’

  ‘I wouldn’t jump. Not ever. I was just enjoying the moment.’

  Mr Ashburton looked down at her, studying her face, nodding after a few seconds as if satisfied he believed her. For a moment longer he didn’t move and Annabelle was acutely aware of how his body was pressed so closely against hers, then with a muttered apology he rolled off her, springing to his feet.

  Annabelle gathered her ripped skirts around her, but didn’t stand, and after a moment Mr Ashburton sat down beside her.

  ‘I am sorry,’ he said again, louder this time.

  ‘Did you really think I would jump?’

  ‘It looked as though you were about to.’

  They fell silent, sitting side by side.

  ‘My life isn’t that bad,’ Annabelle said quietly, wondering why she was trying to justify herself to this man who was little more than a stranger. ‘Mother might be...difficult, Sea Spray Cottage isn’t as grand as Birling View, I will grant you, and Beth is halfway across the world, but I don’t wish to end my life.’

  She felt his eyes on her and suddenly realised she hadn’t lowered the veil. From the direction of his gaze she could tell he wasn’t focused on the scars on her cheek, but she felt self-conscious all the same. She had lived with the scars since the age of four after she had fallen from a set of shelves she was climbing and pulled a vase on top of her. There were three red slashes across one cheek, with a fourth bisecting them. She often thought it looked as though she had been mauled by a wild animal.

  Carefully she pulled at the light material until it hid her face, refusing to meet Mr Ashburton’s eye even though she could feel his gaze upon her still.

  ‘We should continue,’ she said eventually, standing up and pulling her tattered skirts around her. ‘Mother will be sending the carriage back for me soon and if we are quick we should hopefully be able to intercept it on the way.’

  Without another word Mr Ashburton helped her back on to the horse and settled himself in behind her and, as his body brushed against hers Annabelle had to remind herself she didn’t like this man very much, even if his strong arms had come to her aid numerous times today already.

  * * *

  The journey was a beautiful one, over the rolling hills and white cliffs before descending down the coastal path to the outskirts of the little town of Eastbourne. Nevertheless he was relieved to see the thatched roof of the cottage coming into view. Lady Annabelle made him feel uncomfortable and he wasn’t sure why. She was a pleasant enough young woman, well raised and polite, and he had spent his formative years in the company of many young women of her ilk as his great-aunt had strived to prepare him for the life he would one day lead. It wasn’t even the scars she was so self-conscious of, or the ridiculous veil she pulled down to hide her face. He wasn’t sure what it was about Lady Annabelle that made him feel so off balance, but he would be pleased to deposit her in the company of her mother and take his leave, duty done for the day.

  ‘Annabelle, where on earth have you been?’ Lady Hummingford said as they slowed to a stop on the other side of a neatly trimmed hedge. He spotted his carriage out of the corner of his eye and the cart which would have carried their furniture. It would seem Lady Hummingford hadn’t rushed to return to Birling View when she had discovered her daughter wasn’t with her.

  ‘The cart left while I was still in the house, Mother,’ Lady Annabelle said with more poise than he would have been able to muster. ‘Then you locked me in.’

  ‘What on earth were you still doing in the house?’

  ‘Checking everything was in order, as I said I would.’

  ‘You should have been on the cart.’ He noted there was no apology from the Dowager Countess, or any sign of remorse for putting her daughter through such an ordeal. ‘Mr Ashburton, how grateful we are you could make it today.’

  With a nod of acknowledgement he slipped off Emperor’s back and then turned back to help Lady Annabelle down, making sure he lifted her away from her mother so she had a chance to arrange her ripped skirts before the older woman caught sight of her.

  ‘You must be famished after the long ride. I will ask the maid to set out some tea.’

  ‘Thank you.’ He would rather be on his way, but Leo knew he would have to drink at least one cup before it would be polite to take his leave.

  ‘Goodness gracious, Annabelle, what have you done to your dress? Get inside at once.’

  Not for the first time in his life Leo was thankful he had been born a man. No one would dare to speak to him like that now he was an adult and he felt a twinge of admiration for Lady Annabelle as she squared her shoulders and glided slowly into the cottage instead of scurrying off.

  The cottage was light and airy and, although small compared to Birling View, it was well proportioned and well situated. Lady Hummingford led him into a bright room with three comfortable armchairs at one end and a table at the other, barking instructions to a young girl who he assumed was to live in as their maid. As soon as they sat down there was an almighty crash and a string of curses from outside. Lady Hummingford stood and excused herself, dashing outside to see which expensive piece of furniture had been dropped.

  Leo had closed his eyes, weary from the long ride and the busy days beforehand. His limbs were beginning to feel heavy and he knew he was at risk of dropping off when he heard a soft cough. Lady Annabe
lle was sitting quietly opposite him. How she had managed to get into the room without him hearing he didn’t know. She must be particularly light on her feet. She’d changed into a light green day dress with embroidered flowers up one side and he was surprised to see she had removed the veil.

  He took a moment to study her: the golden blonde hair was similar to her sister’s, but the bright blue eyes were all her own. She had a pretty face, with small, neat features. If it weren’t for the scars on her cheek she would be considered a diamond of the Season in London. For a few seconds he was reminded of the first time he had set eyes on her, when he had visited Birling View with Josh and found Lady Annabelle creeping around after dark so she wouldn’t be seen by the house party guests. He’d been struck then by the wariness in her eyes and the sense that she didn’t quite fit anywhere in the world.

  ‘I didn’t mean to disturb you, Mr Ashburton, please feel free to rest if you wish. You must have had a busy day.’ She spoke softly and not for the first time he wondered where she got her mild manner from.

  ‘Are you happy, Lady Annabelle?’ he asked abruptly. As he saw the surprise on her face he cursed himself for asking the question so bluntly. An idea had popped into his mind, a preposterous idea...but he hadn’t been able to stop himself from pondering.

  ‘Well...’ She looked around in panic and then sat back and considered his question. ‘Do you know, no one has asked me that for a long time. No, Mr Ashburton, I am not happy, but I am contented. I think that is enough.’ She folded her hands demurely in her lap and then fixed him with a piercing stare. ‘I will make a good life for myself and my mother here.’

  ‘Is that what you want? To make a life here with your mother?’

  She let out a low, astonished laugh. ‘Within the realms of possibility, yes.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘There are very few options open to me, Mr Ashburton. Of those that are this will suit me well enough.’

  ‘You have other options.’