The Heiress Companion by Madeleine E. Robins Page B

plainly
unheard of to him that anyone, particularly anyone with Jane’s usual good
sense, could actually like to walk when she
might be driven in comfort. But Miss Cherwood and Miss Ambercot were being
handed down from the carriage by Lyn, and Jack Bradwell realized there was
nothing for it except to hand the reins to the groom and bid him return the
vehicle to the stable yard.
    “I call that very accommodating of your brother, sir,”
Rowena confided to Lyn as they started off along the roadside, “considering
that he is obviously reluctant to take to his feet.”
    “I suspect that if Jack ever musters the courage to re-propose
to Miss Ambercot, she will have him walking a great deal,” Mr. Bradwell replied
in a low voice.
    “Is that a bad thing?”
    “With a tendency toward corpulence, I suspect that walking
may be the very best thing in the world for my brother, ma’am. Do you think he will come to the point?”
    Rowena, smiling, reflected that since the accident in the
kitchen there had been a considerable lessening of the formality between
herself and Lady Bradwell’s prodigal son. “How can you ask me, sir?” she
answered at last. “Can I be supposed to know?”
    “To hear Mamma speak of you, yes,” he said in no uncertain
tone.
    “O.”
    “I don’t mean that to sound derogatory, Miss Cherwood. But
Mamma has been praising you to heaven and Anne Ambercot for your handling of
Margaret and Ulysses!”
    “And nothing I can say will convince her that I did nothing
to forward the match, except to listen to each sympathetically. As a matter of
fact, I believe you are more to be congratulated as the author of that match
than I.” She waved aside his snort of indignation. “Eliza Ambercot said
something about an interview with you the other day, and I collect you were so
disobliging that she could do nothing to relieve her feelings but throw a fit
at Meg — Lully of course felt himself bound in honor to offer for her after
that.”
    “What?” Bradwell looked at Rowena blankly. “What in God’s
name is the chit — O, damme, I recall it now. I was writing letters and she
wished to get up a flirtation or something.” They walked in silence for a few
minutes while he considered this. Jane, leaning on Lord Bradwell’s arm, was
listening with every evidence of interest as Jack described improvements in his
shooting cages.
    “I hope he does offer for her soon.” Rowena chuckled drily. “Jane
should get some recompense for listening to that recitation!”
    “Is that the only reason you can conceive of for her
marrying my brother?” Lyn regarded Rowena with something near dislike.
    “Of course not. What a silly notion. I admit he should not
do for me , but all I meant was that. After
all, love oftimes adds a positive charm to the least likely topics — at least
to the listener who loves the speaker. Are you determined to pick a quarrel
with me, Mr. Bradwell?”
    “No, certainly not,” he answered stiffly.
    For a few minutes neither one said a word, each apparently
bemused. Rowena stopped to gather a few primroses, offering some to Jane and
carrying the rest herself. Bradwell, watching her, wondered if she knew the
picture she made, dressed in a peach-colored walking dress of jaconet over an
ivory slip, her leghorn hat lined and trimmed with the same peach hue which
framed her dark hair and vivid face; she carried the flowers in one gloved hand
and bent her head smilingly to breathe their fragrance. Bradwell smiled
himself, watching her, but when she turned to resume her walk at his side, his
eyes dropped very suddenly to his boots.
    “Miss Cherwood?” he began at length.
    “Sir?”
    “I think — well, I must make my apologies to you.”
    Rowena looked at him with some confusion.
    “What on earth for, Mr. Bradwell? Unless you’ve committed
some solecism I’m unaware of, which I misdoubt.”
    “Are you unaware of anything?” he retorted. “No, I didn’t mean
to sound that way. But Mamma said