are very dry.”
Peregrine’s expression became one of astonishment at this inane non sequitur. She glanced up at him over her fan with an air of mild inquiry and saw to her relief that she had rendered him momentarily speechless. She plied her fan, averting her eyes.
Perry struggled for a moment to find a suitable response but in the end accepted defeat. For a few moments, he had thought he was about to break through, but she had now retreated, and he could sense that any further pursuit would be pointless. He would return to fight another day. “I daresay, ma’am.” He turned on his heel and walked over to join the group around Marcus, leaving Alex to resume her solitary silence.
When dinner was announced, Peregrine was directed to take Lady Maude into dinner, and Alexandra was left to bring up the rear with a callow youth suffering from a terminal case of shyness, which suited her very well.
She was perfectly willing to draw out the young man at the dinner table and put him at his ease. He was far too nervous himself to see in his table neighbor anything but a rather drab spinster with a kind disposition, who was willing to engage him in talk of his life at Oxford and allow him to tell tales of his escapades with his fellow students without making him feel either foolish or too young for adult company.
Henry Dearborn obviously thought of her as like a kindly old aunt, Alex thought rather ruefully. It was one thing to play the part so successfully but paradoxically quite another to see herself through the young man’s eyes. This charade was definitely not good for her self-esteem.
“So, Mistress Hathaway, do you care to ride?”
The unexpected question startled her. The Honorable Peregrine was addressing her across the table, rather against established etiquette, but she supposed he could get away with it where others couldn’t.
“We are discussing a riding expedition tomorrow, to Durdle Door,” he continued with a bland smile. “I understand ’tis one of the most famous rock formations in the area. I was wondering if you cared to ride. You were saying earlier how taking the air and someexercise refreshed your mind.” Part of him regretted indulging the impulse to force her into the limelight, but only part of him.
“Ride?” Alexandra was taken aback, and even more so when she became aware that she had drawn the attention of others around the table. Damn Peregrine Sullivan. Her eyes flashed fire at him across the table.
“Of course Mistress Hathaway don’t care to ride,” Lady Maude declared from the bottom of the table. “I’m sure she has never learned, and even if she has, I doubt she would find it easy to sit a horse. One needs a certain posture.”
The mean-spirited reference to her humpback took Alex’s breath away as she imagined what she would feel like if it really was a deformity and not a strategically placed pad between her shoulder blades. How could the woman be so insensitive, so blindingly malicious? Even if Maude was getting her own back for her earlier failure to compel Alexandra into the schoolroom, it was still a wretchedly unkind vengeance.
She was at a loss for words for a moment, and then Peregrine said, as if Maude had not spoken, “So, Mistress Hathaway, what d’you say?”
She was angry enough now to say, “Had I a mount, sir, I would be delighted. I have always enjoyed riding.”
“Then I’m sure a suitable mount can be found for you,” Peregrine declared. “Sir Stephen, surely you have something in your stables for Mistress Hathaway.”
Stephen looked nonplussed, but as he hesitated,Marcus, as indignant as Perry at Maude’s appalling jibe, entered the lists. “Oh, come now, Stephen, you have a stable full of horses eating their heads off. Lady Maude doesn’t ride much, and she has the prettiest dapple gray just aching to shake up her heels.”
“No . . . no, please.” Alex shook her head vigorously before Maude could vent her indignation. “I
Peregrine’s expression became one of astonishment at this inane non sequitur. She glanced up at him over her fan with an air of mild inquiry and saw to her relief that she had rendered him momentarily speechless. She plied her fan, averting her eyes.
Perry struggled for a moment to find a suitable response but in the end accepted defeat. For a few moments, he had thought he was about to break through, but she had now retreated, and he could sense that any further pursuit would be pointless. He would return to fight another day. “I daresay, ma’am.” He turned on his heel and walked over to join the group around Marcus, leaving Alex to resume her solitary silence.
When dinner was announced, Peregrine was directed to take Lady Maude into dinner, and Alexandra was left to bring up the rear with a callow youth suffering from a terminal case of shyness, which suited her very well.
She was perfectly willing to draw out the young man at the dinner table and put him at his ease. He was far too nervous himself to see in his table neighbor anything but a rather drab spinster with a kind disposition, who was willing to engage him in talk of his life at Oxford and allow him to tell tales of his escapades with his fellow students without making him feel either foolish or too young for adult company.
Henry Dearborn obviously thought of her as like a kindly old aunt, Alex thought rather ruefully. It was one thing to play the part so successfully but paradoxically quite another to see herself through the young man’s eyes. This charade was definitely not good for her self-esteem.
“So, Mistress Hathaway, do you care to ride?”
The unexpected question startled her. The Honorable Peregrine was addressing her across the table, rather against established etiquette, but she supposed he could get away with it where others couldn’t.
“We are discussing a riding expedition tomorrow, to Durdle Door,” he continued with a bland smile. “I understand ’tis one of the most famous rock formations in the area. I was wondering if you cared to ride. You were saying earlier how taking the air and someexercise refreshed your mind.” Part of him regretted indulging the impulse to force her into the limelight, but only part of him.
“Ride?” Alexandra was taken aback, and even more so when she became aware that she had drawn the attention of others around the table. Damn Peregrine Sullivan. Her eyes flashed fire at him across the table.
“Of course Mistress Hathaway don’t care to ride,” Lady Maude declared from the bottom of the table. “I’m sure she has never learned, and even if she has, I doubt she would find it easy to sit a horse. One needs a certain posture.”
The mean-spirited reference to her humpback took Alex’s breath away as she imagined what she would feel like if it really was a deformity and not a strategically placed pad between her shoulder blades. How could the woman be so insensitive, so blindingly malicious? Even if Maude was getting her own back for her earlier failure to compel Alexandra into the schoolroom, it was still a wretchedly unkind vengeance.
She was at a loss for words for a moment, and then Peregrine said, as if Maude had not spoken, “So, Mistress Hathaway, what d’you say?”
She was angry enough now to say, “Had I a mount, sir, I would be delighted. I have always enjoyed riding.”
“Then I’m sure a suitable mount can be found for you,” Peregrine declared. “Sir Stephen, surely you have something in your stables for Mistress Hathaway.”
Stephen looked nonplussed, but as he hesitated,Marcus, as indignant as Perry at Maude’s appalling jibe, entered the lists. “Oh, come now, Stephen, you have a stable full of horses eating their heads off. Lady Maude doesn’t ride much, and she has the prettiest dapple gray just aching to shake up her heels.”
“No . . . no, please.” Alex shook her head vigorously before Maude could vent her indignation. “I
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