voice.
Belle looked at Mr Warburton. He had risen on the entrance of the Countess and stood, holding his napkin, his face expressing no more than mild interest in what was being said.
Ursula saw the rapid flicking of Belle’s gaze from him to her sister and back again.
With a sulky flounce of her head, Belle rose. ‘I will be ready in thirty minutes, your ladyship,’ she said, giving a bitter emphasis to the last two words.
‘I think I need a cup of coffee,’ said Helen as the door banged shut.
The secretary helped her into a seat then poured her a cup. He was all attentiveness.
Helen glanced at Ursula.
‘My dear, I should have enquired how you are feeling this morning. How is your poor ankle?’
‘I am fine, thank you, Helen.’ Ursula went back to her toast and allowed Mr Warburton to refill her coffee cup.
Helen tapped her fingers irritably on the tablecloth. ‘Did you encourage Belle to think you were to take her riding this morning, William?’
He shrugged. ‘Something may have been mentioned last night when it seemed as if you were to be involved in this ghastly business over Polly. However, when you told me of your intention to visit the Paxtons with your sister …’ A graceful wave of his hand indicated that the riding suggestion had instantly been dropped.
Helen’s eyes narrowed.
‘ I am not “involved in this ghastly business”, as you put it, and I would prefer that Belle was not encouraged to believe you will dance attendance on her every whim.’
William Warburton sat down with a little assenting dip of his head.
Helen drank more of her coffee. ‘Perhaps tomorrow morning we can all ride together, William?’
He looked up eagerly.
‘I have missed our early morning rides; there seems to have been so little time since Belle’s arrival,’ Helen continued.
A slight flush coloured his face. ‘I would like that,’ he said quietly.
‘A pity you cannot join us, Ursula. I hope in a few days your ankle will be recovered sufficiently to make riding possible.’
Ursula refrained from pointing out that she had managed to ride back to Mountstanton after she had damaged her ankle.
‘I hope so too.’
Helen managed a slight smile. ‘I did not realise just what a task you must have had in chaperoning my sister from New York to here.’
‘She was little trouble, Helen. The fact that I was not family must have helped.’
Another slight smile in acknowledgement. ‘I know what you mean. Ursula, if you were able to advise my chef this morning on how dollar pancakes are cooked, I would be greatly in your debt.’
‘I shall be delighted,’ Ursula said cheerfully. ‘I wonder if after that, Helen, I might be permitted to practise on your drawing room piano? My playing skills, such as they are, are so rusty.’
‘Of course.’ Helen rose. ‘Until luncheon, William?’
He nodded, half rising in his seat. ‘I shall be there, Helen.’
After the Countess had left the room, Ursula said, ‘Did you know the nursemaid well, Mr Warburton?’
‘What, Polly? No, of course not, Miss Grandison. What on earth makes you think I might have done?’
‘I apologise. It was just the way you referred to her, that is all.’
‘Oh, I see. Well, I knew her, of course.’ He helped himself to a piece of toast, placed butter and marmalade on his plate and thought for a moment. ‘I would have seen her with Harry, taking him for a walk, or bringing him down to tea.’
‘Was she pretty?’
William Warburton broke a piece off his slice of toast, smeared it with butter, added some marmalade and ate it while considering his answer. ‘I can’t say I thought much about the matter. Comely, I suppose. Certainly she was not ugly.’
‘No, I suppose you would have noticed that.’
The young man looked at her suspiciously and Ursula chided herself for her tone. ‘I’ve noticed that men are always aware of ugliness in a female. It’s as though they distrust the owner of such an appearance, though why
Belle looked at Mr Warburton. He had risen on the entrance of the Countess and stood, holding his napkin, his face expressing no more than mild interest in what was being said.
Ursula saw the rapid flicking of Belle’s gaze from him to her sister and back again.
With a sulky flounce of her head, Belle rose. ‘I will be ready in thirty minutes, your ladyship,’ she said, giving a bitter emphasis to the last two words.
‘I think I need a cup of coffee,’ said Helen as the door banged shut.
The secretary helped her into a seat then poured her a cup. He was all attentiveness.
Helen glanced at Ursula.
‘My dear, I should have enquired how you are feeling this morning. How is your poor ankle?’
‘I am fine, thank you, Helen.’ Ursula went back to her toast and allowed Mr Warburton to refill her coffee cup.
Helen tapped her fingers irritably on the tablecloth. ‘Did you encourage Belle to think you were to take her riding this morning, William?’
He shrugged. ‘Something may have been mentioned last night when it seemed as if you were to be involved in this ghastly business over Polly. However, when you told me of your intention to visit the Paxtons with your sister …’ A graceful wave of his hand indicated that the riding suggestion had instantly been dropped.
Helen’s eyes narrowed.
‘ I am not “involved in this ghastly business”, as you put it, and I would prefer that Belle was not encouraged to believe you will dance attendance on her every whim.’
William Warburton sat down with a little assenting dip of his head.
Helen drank more of her coffee. ‘Perhaps tomorrow morning we can all ride together, William?’
He looked up eagerly.
‘I have missed our early morning rides; there seems to have been so little time since Belle’s arrival,’ Helen continued.
A slight flush coloured his face. ‘I would like that,’ he said quietly.
‘A pity you cannot join us, Ursula. I hope in a few days your ankle will be recovered sufficiently to make riding possible.’
Ursula refrained from pointing out that she had managed to ride back to Mountstanton after she had damaged her ankle.
‘I hope so too.’
Helen managed a slight smile. ‘I did not realise just what a task you must have had in chaperoning my sister from New York to here.’
‘She was little trouble, Helen. The fact that I was not family must have helped.’
Another slight smile in acknowledgement. ‘I know what you mean. Ursula, if you were able to advise my chef this morning on how dollar pancakes are cooked, I would be greatly in your debt.’
‘I shall be delighted,’ Ursula said cheerfully. ‘I wonder if after that, Helen, I might be permitted to practise on your drawing room piano? My playing skills, such as they are, are so rusty.’
‘Of course.’ Helen rose. ‘Until luncheon, William?’
He nodded, half rising in his seat. ‘I shall be there, Helen.’
After the Countess had left the room, Ursula said, ‘Did you know the nursemaid well, Mr Warburton?’
‘What, Polly? No, of course not, Miss Grandison. What on earth makes you think I might have done?’
‘I apologise. It was just the way you referred to her, that is all.’
‘Oh, I see. Well, I knew her, of course.’ He helped himself to a piece of toast, placed butter and marmalade on his plate and thought for a moment. ‘I would have seen her with Harry, taking him for a walk, or bringing him down to tea.’
‘Was she pretty?’
William Warburton broke a piece off his slice of toast, smeared it with butter, added some marmalade and ate it while considering his answer. ‘I can’t say I thought much about the matter. Comely, I suppose. Certainly she was not ugly.’
‘No, I suppose you would have noticed that.’
The young man looked at her suspiciously and Ursula chided herself for her tone. ‘I’ve noticed that men are always aware of ugliness in a female. It’s as though they distrust the owner of such an appearance, though why
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