solidly beneath one of those
airy little trees, doing his best to look poetic, and succeeding only in
looking entirely absurd.”
At this outburst, the marquis’s
visage softened. “You don’t take him seriously?”
“Not in the least,’’ Meg
affirmed.
His lordship clucked to the
horses. “Then I have spoken out of turn, haven’t I?”
“No, you haven’t.” Meg wished she
understood his conduct. Had she not known of his lordship’s feelings for
Germaine Geraint, she might almost have supposed him to be jealous. “If I
offended propriety, you were right to rebuke me. But I assure you, it’s only
that I don’t know the customs in this region.”
“You did not offend propriety,”
said the marquis. “I’m merely in a bad temper. It was hot today, and we’ve been
short of rain this summer. I’m concerned about my tenants.”
“I see,” she said, but, like the
squire a few minutes past, she did not.
As they rode the rest of the way
home in silence, Bryn wondered why he had criticized the governess. It had been
his object to find Miss Linley a husband. Why then should he be so irritated to
see her dance in the arms of that aging Romeo?
Surely it was paternal concern
for a valued member of his household, he told himself. The late Mrs. Roberts
had been a timid woman, cowed by a bullying husband, and- despite his charming
manners tonight, the squire was known to be a rough man when crossed.
That was reason enough for
concern.
The marquis glanced at Meg,
riding dreamily alongside him. What was she thinking? Emotions played across
her face, soft and intriguing. One might almost guess that she was reliving the
evening, waltzing again with the squire. Or was she recalling the first set of
country dances which she had performed with Bryn himself?
The marquis wished he knew more
of her. A careful review of Standish’s note had revealed little. Excellent
references, but how long could she have been working when she was only
nineteen?
Nevertheless, he had behaved very
badly this evening. How worried she’d appeared when he chastised her, as if she
feared dismissal. Would he never learn to think of anyone but himself? He
dreaded someday causing injury to another as he had to Harry, through his own
selfish disregard for their welfare.
As they passed from one shadow to
the next beneath the three-quarter moon, the marquis reflected for the first
time that perhaps he despised London society not so much because of the
frailties of others, but because of his own. How easily he might slip into
gaming, into attending the sales at Tattersall’s, visiting his tailor, dining
at his club, and never sparing a thought for anyone else.
Here in the country, one lived
close to one’s subordinates. The marquis kept a sharp eye on his tenants,
making certain they were provided for, and discreetly aiding them when
misfortune struck. He cherished his two little wards, and strove to deal fairly
with his servants.
Why then did Miss Linley knock
asunder his best intentions? He had been prepared to quarrel with her tonight,
to cast her in the worst possible light, when she had only behaved as any young
lady might in the presence of a marriageable gentleman.
A marriageable gentleman? That
bounder Roberts! If the chap ever laid one hand on Miss Linley, the marquis
would call him out!
Astounded at the ferocity of his
sentiments, Lord Bryn spent the rest of the ride home staring moodily at the
back ends of the horses.
Chapter Nine
“I cannot think why I let you
talk me into coming,” said Lady Darnet, adjusting her chip straw bonnet as the
landau carried her and her cousin Sir Manfred along Kensington Road.
She glanced out at the
vegetable-laden carts and pedestrian fruit-sellers heading in the opposite
direction, for Kensington provided much of London’s produce. With annoyance,
she noted how her carriage was forced to slow as it made its way through the
throngs of girls with their baskets of
airy little trees, doing his best to look poetic, and succeeding only in
looking entirely absurd.”
At this outburst, the marquis’s
visage softened. “You don’t take him seriously?”
“Not in the least,’’ Meg
affirmed.
His lordship clucked to the
horses. “Then I have spoken out of turn, haven’t I?”
“No, you haven’t.” Meg wished she
understood his conduct. Had she not known of his lordship’s feelings for
Germaine Geraint, she might almost have supposed him to be jealous. “If I
offended propriety, you were right to rebuke me. But I assure you, it’s only
that I don’t know the customs in this region.”
“You did not offend propriety,”
said the marquis. “I’m merely in a bad temper. It was hot today, and we’ve been
short of rain this summer. I’m concerned about my tenants.”
“I see,” she said, but, like the
squire a few minutes past, she did not.
As they rode the rest of the way
home in silence, Bryn wondered why he had criticized the governess. It had been
his object to find Miss Linley a husband. Why then should he be so irritated to
see her dance in the arms of that aging Romeo?
Surely it was paternal concern
for a valued member of his household, he told himself. The late Mrs. Roberts
had been a timid woman, cowed by a bullying husband, and- despite his charming
manners tonight, the squire was known to be a rough man when crossed.
That was reason enough for
concern.
The marquis glanced at Meg,
riding dreamily alongside him. What was she thinking? Emotions played across
her face, soft and intriguing. One might almost guess that she was reliving the
evening, waltzing again with the squire. Or was she recalling the first set of
country dances which she had performed with Bryn himself?
The marquis wished he knew more
of her. A careful review of Standish’s note had revealed little. Excellent
references, but how long could she have been working when she was only
nineteen?
Nevertheless, he had behaved very
badly this evening. How worried she’d appeared when he chastised her, as if she
feared dismissal. Would he never learn to think of anyone but himself? He
dreaded someday causing injury to another as he had to Harry, through his own
selfish disregard for their welfare.
As they passed from one shadow to
the next beneath the three-quarter moon, the marquis reflected for the first
time that perhaps he despised London society not so much because of the
frailties of others, but because of his own. How easily he might slip into
gaming, into attending the sales at Tattersall’s, visiting his tailor, dining
at his club, and never sparing a thought for anyone else.
Here in the country, one lived
close to one’s subordinates. The marquis kept a sharp eye on his tenants,
making certain they were provided for, and discreetly aiding them when
misfortune struck. He cherished his two little wards, and strove to deal fairly
with his servants.
Why then did Miss Linley knock
asunder his best intentions? He had been prepared to quarrel with her tonight,
to cast her in the worst possible light, when she had only behaved as any young
lady might in the presence of a marriageable gentleman.
A marriageable gentleman? That
bounder Roberts! If the chap ever laid one hand on Miss Linley, the marquis
would call him out!
Astounded at the ferocity of his
sentiments, Lord Bryn spent the rest of the ride home staring moodily at the
back ends of the horses.
Chapter Nine
“I cannot think why I let you
talk me into coming,” said Lady Darnet, adjusting her chip straw bonnet as the
landau carried her and her cousin Sir Manfred along Kensington Road.
She glanced out at the
vegetable-laden carts and pedestrian fruit-sellers heading in the opposite
direction, for Kensington provided much of London’s produce. With annoyance,
she noted how her carriage was forced to slow as it made its way through the
throngs of girls with their baskets of
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