A Poor Relation (11 page)

“You said November is the best time to plant pear trees?” He plunged straight in. “I could not recall the name of the variety you advised me to look for.”

An hour passed unnoticed.

“So there you are, Rowena!” Anne burst into the library. “And Lord Farleigh! Mama is in the vapours, what with Rowena’s mare and a strange horse in the stables and Rowena nowhere to be found. She’ll have a spasm if she finds out you have been closeted in here together without a chaperon, and I hate to think what Millie will say.”

“We have been discussing business.” Rowena felt her cheeks redden. She did not dare look at his lordship, who was hastily gathering his papers. She had not spared a thought for propriety.

“I shall not tell,” her cousin promised, “if you can think up a good story. But you had both better come to the morning room at once.”

As they followed Anne out, the earl reached for Rowena’s hand and pressed it.

“I have landed you in the suds,” he murmured remorsefully, “but I shall do my best to extricate you.”

She glanced up at him. A sudden shyness had struck her as the implications of Anne’s words sank in. She had been alone with him for an hour, enough to ruin her reputation if it became known. And she had presumed to instruct him, which most men would deeply resent. His face showed nothing but concern for her.

“Let me speak first,” he commanded.

“Yes, Major.” Despite her gratitude, she could not resist the urge to tease.

He was laughing as they entered the morning room.

Aunt Hermione was laid on a sofa with her abigail waving her vinaigrette under her nose, while Millicent paced the floor, a look of fury distorting her features. Rowena saw her expression change to calculation as she espied Lord Farleigh, and then to delighted welcome.

“I beg your pardon, ma’am.” He bowed over Lady Grove’s hand. “I’d no notion I was causing such consternation. In my eagerness I arrived too early for propriety, so I slipped into the library to pass the time until a decent hour for paying visits. Miss Anne tells me my horse’s presence and Miss Caxton’s absence have combined to distress you. We met just now in the hall. I gather Miss Caxton has been riding for the first time this age. A stroll in the gardens is an excellent remedy to ward off stiffness.”

“In the shrubbery,” corrected Rowena. Green eyes met grey in a glance of shared amusement.

“It was excessively thoughtless in you not to inform someone of your return, Rowena.” Aunt Hermione sat up and shooed away her maid. “I have been in quite a worry and Millicent was in need of your company.”

Any need of her company that her cousin might have felt had evaporated with the earl’s arrival. As he had no doubt intended, Millicent assumed that his stated eagerness was to see herself. She swooped on him.

“Like a hawk on a fieldmouse,” Anne whispered to Rowena.

“I cannot think his lordship would care to be described as a fieldmouse,” she whispered back.

Rowena hurried up to her chamber to change her habit for a morning gown. When she returned a number of other visitors had arrived, so she managed to snatch a few words with Lord Farleigh before he left.

“Thank you for saving me from a scolding, if not a full-blown scandal,” she said. “I own I was surprised at how quickly you came up with an ingenious explanation, for I thought you a patterncard of straightforwardness.”

“Anything to serve a lady, ma’am. I but twisted the truth a little, for you did mention stiffness and I did arrive early.”

And he was eager, she thought with satisfaction, only it was to see her, not Millie. She kept this to herself and said instead, “Now tell me how to explain it when I am too stiff to move tomorrow.”

“I hope you will not be, for I was going to suggest that we meet early to ride about my orchards. Surely it cannot be thought improper if you bring a groom?”

“Not improper, perhaps, but unwise. I had best see whether Anne will accompany me, too. We might meet you by accident on our way to the village.”

“I see your ingenuity is quite equal to my own. I expect I can persuade Bernard to join me, to amuse your cousin while we inspect the trees. Nine o’clock?”

“Nine o’clock, my lord.”

Though nine in the evening in the rose garden would have been more romantic, it was an assignation of sorts. She hugged the knowledge to herself.

“Rowena!” Millicent interrupted her thoughts. The only guests still present were ladies and as such of no interest. “You have your head in the clouds, I declare. Was Lord Farleigh talking to you about me again?”

Rowena cast her mind back over the morning’s conversation. To her relief, she remembered his lordship saying that her cousin would be bored by farm talk.

“Yes, he did speak of you.”

“What did he say?”

“I do not recall his precise words. Something about your interests.”

“My interests?” Millicent appeared to be trying to summon up some subject in which she was interested. Rowena could have listed them for her: marriage, clothes and her own beauty.

“He considers your interests to be entirely feminine in nature, I collect.”

“Well, of course. I daresay you shocked him with some comment about his orchards. I hope I am not so foolish as to attempt to display an interest in such masculine matters as agriculture.”

“He did mention farming.”

“You see? I assure you, it is fatal to pretend to a knowledge of such matters. Gentlemen prefer young ladies to admire their abilities, not to rival them. I am telling you this for your own good, Rowena. I believe you might attach the curate if you set your mind to it.”

“Thank you, cousin. I will bear your advice in mind.”

“It is a pity that his lordship has not more conversation. Mr. Ruddle is always
au fait
with the latest London fashions and gossip, and he talks charmingly. Lord Farleigh is sadly abrupt at times, I fear, and he dresses so countrified I declare it quite puts me to the blush sometimes to be seen with him. Dear Mr. Ruddle is always complete to a shade. How I wish that he had a title!”

Her wistfulness surprised and touched Rowena. She had not realized that her cousin felt such a definite preference, even admiration, for Mr. Ruddle.

She was about to suggest that a title was less important to future happiness than a true meeting of minds, but the moment was past as Millicent continued complacently, “I happened to mention to the earl that Mr. Ruddle was to take me driving this morning. He was quite green with envy, I vow.”

Mr. Ruddle entered at that moment. Millicent went off in high good humour to put on her bonnet, and Anne joined Rowena.

“What has made
her
so cock-a-hoop?” she enquired suspiciously.

“Are not Lord Farleigh’s and Mr. Ruddle’s attentions both in the same morning sufficient to explain it?”

“She’d have preferred to see them both at her feet at the same time. Was she reading you a scold for daring to speak to one of her beaux?”

“No, that was what made her happy. Your plan is working like a miracle. Every time she sees me talking to the earl she is sure we are discussing her charms, and today I was able to confirm it.”

“Never say his lordship was praising her to you! I had thought better of him.”

“All he said was that she would be bored by our talk, but she managed to read that as a compliment. Of course, that is not quite the way I repeated it to her. Have you noticed that she is much more polite to me in company recently? I believe your words have borne fruit there, too.”

“What, that he might eventually notice her spite? I hope so, for it will make your life more comfortable. Also, her improved disposition towards you makes it more likely that he will offer for her and rid us of her altogether.”

“He deserves better.” Rowena winced at the thought.

“Even Mr. Ruddle deserves better.”

“I am not so sure that Mr. Ruddle could do better. I think Millie has a real fondness for him, and he cannot need her fortune, so I daresay his affection for her is equally genuine. What is more, he is not likely ever to look beyond the beauty of her features to see the mind within. I believe they might be very happy together.”

“Possibly.” Anne was impatient. “But she is not likely to take him while there is a chance of catching an earl. We must think of ourselves. Now that you have your Vixen and Millicent is less vixenish, pray say you do not mean to seek employment at once?”

“Oh, no, I cannot go away now. Not until Lord Farleigh is able to go on without me, and there is a great deal more to teach him.” She was about to disclose the meeting planned for the morrow when her aunt called to her.

With the earl in the offing as a suitor, Lady Grove had belatedly decided that Mr. Ruddle’s groom was not a sufficient chaperon. Rowena was to join Millicent in the phaeton. She went up resignedly to fetch her pelisse, for there was little warmth in the September sunshine.

Not until that evening did the opportunity arise to tell Anne of the next day’s rendezvous with Lord Farleigh. As she wrapped herself in a warm though shabby robe to go to Anne’s chamber, Rowena was shocked to discover that she did not want her cousin to accompany her. She hesitated. It was necessary, of course. It had even been her own idea, to render the encounter unexceptionable. And the captain would be there, too, she was sure, for she had faith in the ex-major’s powers of persuasion.

“Captain Cartwright will be there?” asked Anne with sparkling eyes. “I shan’t have to sit there on poor old Rocinante listening to the two of you spouting on about crop yields and weed control? I’ll come!”

Rowena retired to bed to ponder her own reluctance. It was all too easy to understand. She had foolishly allowed herself to fall in love with Lord Farleigh.

Nothing else could explain the pain she felt when he hurried to Millicent’s side with admiration in his eyes. Nothing else could explain the joy of being with him, the way the pressure of his fingers on her hand still lingered hours afterward. Only love could explain her longing to meet him at dusk among flowers, to be crushed in his arms.

She was lucky to be meeting him in the morning in the orchards, she reminded herself, lucky to possess the knowledge he needed. That he liked and respected her she was certain. An impoverished earl could not afford any deeper feelings for a girl without a penny to her name. Were she the most beautiful creature in the world there would still be no hope. Instead, she paled to insignificance beside her cousin.

Damn Millie, she thought, beating her pillow with her fists, and she cried herself to sleep with the earl’s handkerchief twined about her fingers.

CHAPTER TEN

“Go ’way, it’s still dark.”

“It’s after eight,” insisted Anne’s urgent voice.

“After eight!” Rowena sat up suddenly and moaned as every overused muscle in her body protested. She slumped back. “It can’t be, it’s still dark.”

“It’s pouring with rain. Do you think they will expect us?”

“I don’t care. I hurt all over when I move.”

“Lord Farleigh might ride in this weather, but surely he will not let Captain Cartwright risk his health with a wetting?” Anne pulled the curtains open to reveal grey sheets of water falling from the invisible sky.

“No one in his right mind would go out in that. Go back to bed, and on the way tell Minton I want a hot bath at nine and I don’t mind how much she grumbles.”

Rowena was almost glad of the double excuse of the weather and her stiffness for not meeting Lord Farleigh. She needed time to compose herself after her realization of her feelings for him. The last thing she wanted was to let him guess that she loved him, for it could only lead to embarrassment for him and humiliation for her.

She lay back and watched the rain lancing down, cold, metallic, indifferent.

The hot bath soothed the worst of her aches and towards noon the downpour began to slacken. By mid-afternoon it was reduced to a light drizzle. That was not soon enough for Millicent. All morning she grumbled at being confined to the house with no visitors, and she insisted on Rowena bearing her company, though she found fault with everything she did or said.

Rowena rebelled. She decided to go out on Vixen despite the rain and her lingering soreness. Millicent was already in such a snappish mood that defying her wishes could not make her more ill-humoured. She was about to slip out of the parlour while her cousin was talking to her aunt, intending to change into her habit before mentioning her plans, when Mr. Ruddle was announced.

His arrival made her departure much easier. As she left she heard him declaiming his resolve to prove his devotion by venturing forth regardless of the risk of taking a chill.

As she came down the stairs some fifteen minutes later, the butler was opening the front door to admit Lord Farleigh and Captain Cartwright. She paused, fighting an urge to run down to greet him. He glanced up and saw her and a smile lightened his stern features.

“Miss Caxton, well met.” He handed his hat and gloves to the butler and came towards her. “You are dressed for riding! What an intrepid soul. I confess that Bernard and I were driven in state in her ladyship’s closed carriage.” As she joined him at the foot of the stairs he added in a lower voice, “I trust you did not go out this morning expecting to meet us? I was sure you would not, or I should have gone myself.”

Rowena forced herself to laugh, though his nearness shook her. “Anne and I decided we had no taste for  drowning. It has nearly stopped now, though, and I thought to go out for a short ride. I was shockingly stiff this morning.”

“What, even though you walked in the shrubbery for an hour after riding yesterday?” His voice was teasing.

“Would that I had. I must exercise a little or it will be worse next time. I daresay the rain will not melt me.”

“I’d have ridden over myself, if Bernard had not chosen to come, too. We wanted to be sure you had not expected us this morning.”

He turned away for a moment as a footman came to relieve him of his coat. Rowena dithered. She did not know whether it was worse to look rude by leaving or to look foolish by staying after telling him she was on her way out. She wanted to stay, just to be in his presence, but watching him flirt with Millicent would be painful.