slightest push to attach Lord Dearborn —or anyone else —as a husband. True, Rosalind would doubtless accept that bucolic squire, Sir George, were he to offer, but her mother had taken some pains to be certain the opportunity could not occur. Whenever he had called, she herself had received him, and with such frigid politeness that he generally left before Rosalind knew he had arrived. His calls had been much less frequent of late.
As for Rosalind, Mrs. Winston-Fitts was becoming quite exasperated with her. She began to fear that it might even be possible, albeit barely, for her daughter to finish out the Season unbetrothed!
No, no, that was unthinkable. In all likelihood, Lord Dearborn was simply waiting for the more romantic setting of his mother's house party to make her an offer. He would be leaving for the country in a day or two, he had said. Of course, there was still Lady Allbeck's rout tonight. Perhaps, with some adroit manoeuvring, something might be contrived there. Not yet would she give up her hopes of seeing Rosalind a countess!
* * *
C HAPTER 9
E LLIE CAUGHT her breath in delight as the coach rounded the high brick wall to pass through open wrought-iron gates, affording the party their first glimpse of Huntington Park. The gravelled drive wound for nearly a quarter of a mile through manicured emerald lawns dotted with daisies and graced by towering oaks and flowering fruit trees, ending in a broad sweep before the loveliest house she had ever seen.
Of mellow stone, the original Tudor block of the main house had apparently been added to over the past three centuries according to the taste of the successive owners, resulting in a curious, but charming, blend of architectural styles. To Ellie, the graceful columns, towers and domes, the mullioned windows twinkling in the sunlight, gave the house an almost fairy-tale appearance.
"Gracious!" cried Mrs. Winston-Fitts on seeing the rambling mansion. "Rosalind, when you become mistress here, you simply must prevail upon Lord Dearborn to have this monstrosity torn down and replaced by a proper modern house. I vow, this place could give one nightmares!"
"Aunt Mabel, how can you say so?" exclaimed Ellie in surprise. "I think it absolutely beautiful!" Ignoring her aunt's quelling glance, she turned to her cousin. "Surely you wouldn't wish to destroy all this history simply to have a house like everyone else's, Rosie?"
Rosalind only murmured noncommittally that the house looked very pretty to her as it was.
Ellie thought that Rosalind had been unusually quiet, even for her, during the six hour drive from London, and she wondered at it. One would have thought that she would be the happiest of women after Lord Dearborn's near-declaration on his last night in Town. That evening, at a rout at Lady Allbeck's, he had danced three times with Miss Winston-Fitts, and her mother, at least, had been in raptures ever since. Ellie privately marvelled that she had not had an announcement put in the papers immediately.
She herself had enjoyed two dances with the Earl, the second being the last of the evening. Ellie felt that she was progressing nicely in her plan to relegate her feelings for Lord Dearborn to the realm of mere friendship. During both their dances, they had teased each other and spoken on numerous topics of general interest, discovering much in common, but not one lover-like glance or phrase had occurred on either side. Of course, she had never expected such from him, but she congratulated herself that she had betrayed no hint of her infatuation to either the Earl or any onlookers. It would never do for Rosalind to guess the truth!
Rosalind, however, had appeared to share none of her mother's delight at the singular compliment Lord Dearborn had paid her with that third dance. Really, it made Ellie wonder whether her cousin were not indifferent to the man after all— but of course if she were, she would never
As for Rosalind, Mrs. Winston-Fitts was becoming quite exasperated with her. She began to fear that it might even be possible, albeit barely, for her daughter to finish out the Season unbetrothed!
No, no, that was unthinkable. In all likelihood, Lord Dearborn was simply waiting for the more romantic setting of his mother's house party to make her an offer. He would be leaving for the country in a day or two, he had said. Of course, there was still Lady Allbeck's rout tonight. Perhaps, with some adroit manoeuvring, something might be contrived there. Not yet would she give up her hopes of seeing Rosalind a countess!
* * *
C HAPTER 9
E LLIE CAUGHT her breath in delight as the coach rounded the high brick wall to pass through open wrought-iron gates, affording the party their first glimpse of Huntington Park. The gravelled drive wound for nearly a quarter of a mile through manicured emerald lawns dotted with daisies and graced by towering oaks and flowering fruit trees, ending in a broad sweep before the loveliest house she had ever seen.
Of mellow stone, the original Tudor block of the main house had apparently been added to over the past three centuries according to the taste of the successive owners, resulting in a curious, but charming, blend of architectural styles. To Ellie, the graceful columns, towers and domes, the mullioned windows twinkling in the sunlight, gave the house an almost fairy-tale appearance.
"Gracious!" cried Mrs. Winston-Fitts on seeing the rambling mansion. "Rosalind, when you become mistress here, you simply must prevail upon Lord Dearborn to have this monstrosity torn down and replaced by a proper modern house. I vow, this place could give one nightmares!"
"Aunt Mabel, how can you say so?" exclaimed Ellie in surprise. "I think it absolutely beautiful!" Ignoring her aunt's quelling glance, she turned to her cousin. "Surely you wouldn't wish to destroy all this history simply to have a house like everyone else's, Rosie?"
Rosalind only murmured noncommittally that the house looked very pretty to her as it was.
Ellie thought that Rosalind had been unusually quiet, even for her, during the six hour drive from London, and she wondered at it. One would have thought that she would be the happiest of women after Lord Dearborn's near-declaration on his last night in Town. That evening, at a rout at Lady Allbeck's, he had danced three times with Miss Winston-Fitts, and her mother, at least, had been in raptures ever since. Ellie privately marvelled that she had not had an announcement put in the papers immediately.
She herself had enjoyed two dances with the Earl, the second being the last of the evening. Ellie felt that she was progressing nicely in her plan to relegate her feelings for Lord Dearborn to the realm of mere friendship. During both their dances, they had teased each other and spoken on numerous topics of general interest, discovering much in common, but not one lover-like glance or phrase had occurred on either side. Of course, she had never expected such from him, but she congratulated herself that she had betrayed no hint of her infatuation to either the Earl or any onlookers. It would never do for Rosalind to guess the truth!
Rosalind, however, had appeared to share none of her mother's delight at the singular compliment Lord Dearborn had paid her with that third dance. Really, it made Ellie wonder whether her cousin were not indifferent to the man after all— but of course if she were, she would never
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