Miss Delacourt Speaks Her Mind (6 page)

“That person would do better to leave well enough alone, Miss Delacourt” His voice was soft and dangerous.

“As you wish,” she said crisply. She reached for the handle to let herself back into the carriage.

“Allow me” Sir Anthony opened the carriage door and extended his arm.

When Ginny put her hand into Sir Anthony’s strong one she was very much aware of the warmth of his skin and the ease with which he assisted her up the steps. His fingers lingered on hers for a fraction longer than necessary, and Ginny gave him a questioning look.

“What is it, Miss Delacourt?”

“I… nothing. Thank you” Ginny took her seat, careful to avoid the naked curiosity in the Barringtons’ eyes.

Sir Anthony limped over to the boy on the cart, who had whiled away their exchange blowing smoke rings on his noxious cigar. For an anxious moment, Ginny thought Sir Anthony meant to leave with the boy and was relieved when he drew his ruined coat from the back of the cart. This morning she would have rathered anyone else be her traveling companion. Now, a tightness gathered in her chest at the thought of his so easily leaving her to her own devices.

With a longing look in Sir Anthony’s direction, the boy started down the road. Ginny thought he looked a trifle sour but was too startled by the fact that he wore Sir Anthony’s waistcoat to wonder why. As he watched the boy drive away, Sir Anthony looked to be feeling a trifle sour as well. With a jerk of his head, he leaped up the steps of the carriage, no small feat, considering his sore ankle.

When he placed a mangled boot inside the door, Ginny met his eyes. “Oh. I failed to mention it,” she said. “It will be necessary for you to ride with the driver.”

Sir Anthony betrayed no hint of emotion, almost as if being suffered to ride with the coachman were an everyday occurrence. “Delighted,” he said. With a bow to the occupants of the carriage, he swung himself gracefully up to the box.

Ginny settled herself into her seat, vaguely dissatisfied. Why did she have to challenge him? Now he would be more on his guard then ever, and she would never get the chance to find out if there was more to him than he allowed to show. If only she could think of a way to get him to betray his emotions ! At least they were finally on their way. She was hungry and dirty and so very tired!

She glanced at Nan, huddled in a miserable heap against the far side of the carriage. Drawing the abigail against her shoulder, she whispered, “Nan, dear, do you feel any better at all?”

“No, miss. I feel worse. Are we there yet?”

“No, dear, but soon. I will prevail upon our hosts to keep us for the night. I can get you to bed much sooner that way”

Nan did not reply, but she relaxed and her head drooped farther down Ginny’s shoulder.

“Squire and Mrs. Barrington, would it be too terribly inconvenient to put us up for the night? My abigail has caught a chill somewhere and is suffering with a fever. I hate to have her out any longer than is absolutely necessary”

“Oh, yes, well, I, ah …” Squire Barrington glanced to his wife, who still clutched the handkerchief tightly to her nose. “I don’t see why not. I daresay Sir Anthony will wash up fairly well, don’t you think? We just had a new bathing tub built into one of our closets, complete, oh, very complete with running water.” He drew his flabby stomach into his thin chest. “I shall order it filled upon our arrival.”

“Thank you.” Ginny smiled her gratitude. “I am certain you will find us both more the thing once we wash away the dust of the road”

Ginny noticed Mrs. Barrington still seemed doubtful. She removed the handkerchief from her nose long enough to say, “My, he has changed!” Then, with a little choke, she added, “My poor Lucinda!” and threw herself on her husband’s neck.

Squire Barrington consoled his wife with an awkward pat on the cheek. “There, there, my dear, it will be all right.” He gave Ginny an uncomfortable, calculating look, his wet lips twisted in uncertainty. “Miss Delacourt,” he ventured to ask, “about your roses..

Ginny thought frantically of what to say in response, but was robbed of breath when the carriage lurched and began moving at a furious pace. Sir Anthony had taken charge.

Mrs. Barrington emitted a wild shriek and tossed her handkerchief into the air.

“See here, what’s going on?” Squire Barrington attempted to rise from his seat, but the carriage was traveling too fast. Grasping his cane, he beat upon the ceiling. The coachman must have received the message, for the carriage immediately slowed and came to a halt.

Soon, his grizzled head appeared in the window. “What’s toward?”

“Why, I must say, why are we going so fast?”

“The gen’lman and I were havin’ a bit of a debate. He says he could make the horses go at least fourteen miles per hour. Not on this terrain, says I. The next thing I know, he’s grabbed the reins and drivin’ your cattle hell-bent-for-leather.”

“Well, make him stop!” Mrs. Barrington had rallied.

“Yes, mum.” The coachman clapped his hat to his head and disappeared from the window. The carriage lurched and swayed with his ascent to the box, but it was some time before they were once again in motion.

Ginny tried to imagine how the interview between the driver and Sir Anthony had proceeded. She found it difficult to picture him meekly handing the reins over without a murmur. Then again, perhaps he had spent all his pent-up anger on the backs of the horses.

A crack was beginning to show in Sir Anthony’s smooth veneer, and Ginny fell to thinking of ways she could make it grow wider before his return to London on the morrow. He was Grandaunt Regina’s favorite relative-barring herself-but why? Who was the real Sir Anthony Crenshaw and how would she ever learn? She did not lack for ideas; however, one after another was discarded as being too dangerous. She sensed Sir Anthony was a loaded cannon, and she didn’t want to make herself a target. If only she could think of an idea that would keep her out of harm’s way, one with a long fuse.

By the time the party arrived at Rose Arbor, home of the Barringtons, Ginny was weary of thinking. After seeing Nan to bed and ensuring all her needs would be attended to, Ginny retired to her own room. There would be time enough for food and a bath in the morning.

The next morning, Ginny was awakened by the smell of toast and eggs and something else she couldn’t quite place. Whatever it was, she meant to have some immediately. The growling of her stomach almost drowned out the din of water cans being carried down the hall to her room.

A maid entered, her face flushed from the fire that heated the water for Ginny’s bath. The girl was younger than Nan and looked tired and spent. Ginny sprang from her bed and pulled one of the cans from where it hung suspended on a stick across the girl’s shoulders.

The maid’s eyes grew wide with horror. “No, miss. You mustn’t do that! T’would be my job if anyone was to see ya”

“Fiddlesticks! I am accustomed to drawing my own bath. Besides, there is no one here to see what we do” Ginny dumped the water into a hipbath and shivered with anticipation at the prospect of washing away the layers of dust she had collected since leaving London. The other cans followed, and the maid helped Ginny step out of her night rail and into the still-warm water. “The mistress says I’m to attend ya seein’ how your girl is still ailin’”

Ginny settled into the bath, feeling guilty. “Poor Nan. She isn’t really an abigail. She’s more of a friend, really. When my father died and I went to live with my grandaunt, I couldn’t leave her behind. My grandaunt thinks I have had an abigail all along, but actually I am quite accustomed to doing things for myself.”

“Oh” The maid looked down at the floor, and her shoulders slumped in a frail little heap across her back.

Poor dear. She must have viewed her new duties with pleasure. If it meant she would no longer be responsible for providing bath water, Ginny could understand her disappointment. “What is your name?”

“Maren, miss.”

“Very well, Maren. My name is Ginny Delacourt. I will be happy for your help while I am here, but only if you promise not to stand on matters of propriety.” Ginny was amused by the delight and terror that passed across Maren’s face. “Naturally, we shall be most careful not a word of this reaches Mrs. Barrington’s ears.”

“Oh, yes, miss!” Maren gasped with delight. “Shall I fetch you something to wear?”

“You will find a clean shift and stockings in the portmanteau. I believe I even thought to bring an extra gown” Ginny was grateful Seb and Dobbs had no interest in stealing clothing.

When she was dressed in a white-sprigged muslin tied with a saffron sash and her everyday shoes, she felt much refreshed and ready to formulate a plan of action against Sir Anthony. That is, once she had eaten. Her empty stomach was now her primary concern. Maren insisted on brushing out Ginny’s hair and redressing the brown curls, but the moment she was done, Ginny wasted no time in finding the breakfast room.

The enticing aroma of bacon and eggs led Ginny through a maze of unknown corridors and rooms until, mouth watering, she was standing on the threshold of the gold-and-green breakfast room. The floor-to-ceiling drapes were pulled from the windows, flooding the room with light that glanced off the highly polished surfaces of the furniture. On the sideboard lay a sinful array of breakfast foods, steam curling from every dish.

At the far end stood Sir Anthony, a spoon poised in his hand and a question in his eyes.

“Miss Delacourt! You are not dressed for travel”

“Of course I’m not dressed for travel. Ummm, what is that heavenly smell?”

“Kidney steak in mushroom and wine sauce. What does your breakfast have to do with our departure? Certainly you could eat in your traveling suit.”

“Certainly I could. Are you quite finished with that? There are some lovely coddled eggs on the other end of the board there”

Sir Anthony dumped another boatful of sauce onto his steak. “Had some”

Ginny was somewhat startled by the shortness of Sir Anthony’s reply. He hadn’t even addressed her by name.

Sir Anthony continued. “If you think I wish to waste my time kicking my heels while you change from that ill-suited frock into yesterday’s costume, you are quite mistaken. I intend to leave for Dunsmere before the hour is up. If we hurry, we can be back in London before nightfall.”

“You mean you wish to hasten off, just like that? Why, we haven’t even summoned the physician yet”

“That’s another bone I’ve been meaning to pick with you. Why you insist on a physician to attend to a mere fever is beyond me” Sir Anthony took a seat at the table and smiled. “Now, shall we enjoy our food?”

Ginny dropped into a chair across from him and gazed into her plate. Aromatic steam curling from her steak and eggs sent her stomach into tumultuous rumblings. A corner of her mind screamed at her to eat, but the voice seemed small and far away. “Sir Anthony, I do believe you are being rude”

“Isn’t that what you wished? For me to say what I think?”

“Is that what you think? That Nan does not warrant a physician? That she be treated like a mere servant?” “Well, isn’t she?”

“No, she is not!”

“Oh. I have been led to believe that she is. I have referred to her as such on numerous occasions and you have never corrected me. Tut tut, Miss Delacourt”-Sir Anthony waved his fork at her-“we must always be sure to tell the truth”

“The truth is, Sir Anthony, I shall not be returning to London. So, you may take your airs and manners off and return forthwith. I’m confident Squire Barrington can see me the rest of the way home”

“Wonderful! I shan’t have to worry about dodging flying reticules, wandering all over the countryside for a doctor, or trudging down the road on a sore ankle.”

Ginny winced. How true his words were. “I had quite forgotten about your ankle. How is it this morning?”

“Sore. And my bath last night was cold. But, after donning a clean suit of clothes this morning, I feel like a new man” Sir Anthony pushed his plate away and leaned back in his chair. “It is refreshing to say what is on one’s mind, Miss Delacourt. I am a changed being, and it is all because of you”

“If you must know, this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.”

“What exactly did you have in mind, pray tell?”

Ginny fiddled with her eggs. “I don’t know precisely, but rest assured, you have thoroughly discouraged me from finding out. You are an odious, odious man. I have always thought as much”

Sir Anthony looked a bit struck, almost as if her words had stung. “I daresay you’ve been wanting to say that for a long time. It does feel good to express one’s feelings, does it not, Miss Delacourt?”

“Yes, indeed it does.” But it was a lie, an unaccountable lie.

“Well, then, that leaves little to say but farewell”

In spite of the foolish constriction of her throat, Ginny managed to speak. “Good-bye, Sir Anthony. Thank you for all you have done. I will write to Aunt Regina today and have her make restitution for the damages. The hat and your waistcoat, to name a few.”

“That won’t be necessary.” Sir Anthony threw his napkin on the table and rose. “Well then, no doubt Grandmama shall send me back for you, so I’ll be seeing you again soon”