me great pleasure to show it to someone who has a fondness for such things.”
Alethea could think of nothing that she would enjoy more, but unfortunately that was not the only consideration. “It sounds perfectly delightful,” she said, in a rather stiff little voice, “but I would have to ask Aunt Maria’s permission before accepting your very kind invitation.”
He supposed that in her inexperience she was doubtful about the propriety of undertaking such a prolonged expedition under male escort. He said casually, “I thought we might wait for a really sunny day and use my mother’s landau. It’s a trifle antiquated, but extremely comfortable for all that. Marianne has been teasing me ever since I came back to take her to visit Aunt Emily—we have always called her ‘aunt’ because she is a good deal older than Mama. You would not object to including my cousin in the party? She has no great interest in history, but she would be happy to bear Aunt Emily company and exchange family news while we indulge our taste for antiquity.”
When his companion only smiled politely and said that that sounded very pleasant, he did not press her further, and once the question of acceptance had been safely left in abeyance, her manner became more natural. She wondered why His Majesty should have taken a dislike to the Palace. Was it true that it was haunted? Could that be the reason? And could anyone live there?
He smiled a little at her eager curiosity, which left him in small doubt that the proposed expedition was very much to her taste, and explained that his aunt had come by her tenancy because her mother had been one of Queen Caroline’s ladies. Growing old, and being of an independent nature, she had disliked the idea of being a pensioner on her son-in-law’s bounty—and His Majesty had been graciously pleased to grant her the use of an apartment at Hampton Court for the term of her life. As for the Palace being haunted—well—there were usually such stories told of any ancient building that had harboured tragedy and despair. The ghost of Queen Katherine Howard was reputed to haunt a certain gallery leading to the Chapel Royal. She was said to have run along it in an attempt to reach the king with a plea for mercy. But all old buildings creaked and groaned and a lively imagination could read a good deal into the strange noises that they produced. Certainly his present majesty’s aversion to the place had nothing to do with ghosts. If report spoke truly, it stemmed from an occasion when his grandpapa, King George the Second, had lost his temper with him and boxed his ears—in public, too, an insult which had never been forgotten.
Only when Damon broke off to enquire whether she would like to drive home by way of Hyde Park did Alethea realise how swiftly time had fled. She exclaimed in dismay when he told her that it was long past noon, and said that she must go home at once.
Obediently he turned the curricle and urged the bays to greater effort, suggesting pleasantly that perhaps she would drive out with him again and adding, as they turned into Berkeley Square once more, “And you will let me know which day would be convenient for our visit to Hampton Court, so that I can make arrangements with Marianne.”
“If Aunt Maria says I may go,” she agreed, gathering her skirts with one hand in readiness to descend from the curricle.
He bowed, and she reached up her hand in farewell, thanking him formally for a delightful morning and curtseying slightly before she turned to run up the steps. He watched the door close behind her before setting the bays in motion again. A pleasant little creature, refreshingly lacking in artifice, honest and loyal, he thought approvingly, before dismissing her from his thoughts and turning with a groan to contemplation of the tasks that would have to be accomplished in payment for his morning’s holiday.
EIGHT
Both ladies had secret misgivings. But Alethea dearly wished to
Alethea could think of nothing that she would enjoy more, but unfortunately that was not the only consideration. “It sounds perfectly delightful,” she said, in a rather stiff little voice, “but I would have to ask Aunt Maria’s permission before accepting your very kind invitation.”
He supposed that in her inexperience she was doubtful about the propriety of undertaking such a prolonged expedition under male escort. He said casually, “I thought we might wait for a really sunny day and use my mother’s landau. It’s a trifle antiquated, but extremely comfortable for all that. Marianne has been teasing me ever since I came back to take her to visit Aunt Emily—we have always called her ‘aunt’ because she is a good deal older than Mama. You would not object to including my cousin in the party? She has no great interest in history, but she would be happy to bear Aunt Emily company and exchange family news while we indulge our taste for antiquity.”
When his companion only smiled politely and said that that sounded very pleasant, he did not press her further, and once the question of acceptance had been safely left in abeyance, her manner became more natural. She wondered why His Majesty should have taken a dislike to the Palace. Was it true that it was haunted? Could that be the reason? And could anyone live there?
He smiled a little at her eager curiosity, which left him in small doubt that the proposed expedition was very much to her taste, and explained that his aunt had come by her tenancy because her mother had been one of Queen Caroline’s ladies. Growing old, and being of an independent nature, she had disliked the idea of being a pensioner on her son-in-law’s bounty—and His Majesty had been graciously pleased to grant her the use of an apartment at Hampton Court for the term of her life. As for the Palace being haunted—well—there were usually such stories told of any ancient building that had harboured tragedy and despair. The ghost of Queen Katherine Howard was reputed to haunt a certain gallery leading to the Chapel Royal. She was said to have run along it in an attempt to reach the king with a plea for mercy. But all old buildings creaked and groaned and a lively imagination could read a good deal into the strange noises that they produced. Certainly his present majesty’s aversion to the place had nothing to do with ghosts. If report spoke truly, it stemmed from an occasion when his grandpapa, King George the Second, had lost his temper with him and boxed his ears—in public, too, an insult which had never been forgotten.
Only when Damon broke off to enquire whether she would like to drive home by way of Hyde Park did Alethea realise how swiftly time had fled. She exclaimed in dismay when he told her that it was long past noon, and said that she must go home at once.
Obediently he turned the curricle and urged the bays to greater effort, suggesting pleasantly that perhaps she would drive out with him again and adding, as they turned into Berkeley Square once more, “And you will let me know which day would be convenient for our visit to Hampton Court, so that I can make arrangements with Marianne.”
“If Aunt Maria says I may go,” she agreed, gathering her skirts with one hand in readiness to descend from the curricle.
He bowed, and she reached up her hand in farewell, thanking him formally for a delightful morning and curtseying slightly before she turned to run up the steps. He watched the door close behind her before setting the bays in motion again. A pleasant little creature, refreshingly lacking in artifice, honest and loyal, he thought approvingly, before dismissing her from his thoughts and turning with a groan to contemplation of the tasks that would have to be accomplished in payment for his morning’s holiday.
EIGHT
Both ladies had secret misgivings. But Alethea dearly wished to
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