“I had better go at once,” he said and she noticed his shoulders tightening in readiness for the ordeal ahead of him. “Does she know that I was expected here today?”
“I believe she does now although she did not earlier – which is why she wrote you the letter which you did not receive. Would you like me to take you? I daresay, if you have come from London today, your carriage will have been put away and, in any event, your horses will need to rest.”
“I did not come in a carriage. I do not in point of fact own one. I came on horseback.”
“Oh!” she exclaimed, surprised. She had, on first meeting him, been too taken up with comparing his face to his brother’s to notice that he was still in riding attire. “Have you been shown to your room? I daresay you would like to change.”
He smiled. “I am afraid your servants were as much put out by my appearance as you seem to be and, beyond ascertaining that I had not simply walked in off the street but had in fact been invited, wished to be rid of me as quickly as possible in order, I suspect, to concentrate their energies upon more impressive guests.”
“Oh!” she said again but this time in a different tone of voice. “That was exceedingly remiss of them – I will have a word. Who was it who showed you in here? It was not Potts, I suppose – the butler?”
“No; I do not think it was unless you have an excessively young one; I believe it was a footman – not long escaped from the nursery by the look of him. Do not be too hard on him – I daresay he is unnerved by the occasion.”
“More likely he has been commanded to do the duties of a footman when he is accustomed to a more menial role and did not dare to ask Potts what to do with a man who arrived by an unusual mode of transport. I trust someone took your horse?”
“Oh, yes, a boy – another person still wet behind the ears – relieved me of him as soon as I reached the door. How far is the cottage where I will find my mother and brother – and your friend, the companion? What is her name by the way?”
“Miss Helman. It is a couple of miles down the drive and then another one or two along the lane – to the right – or there is a short cut across the garden, but it would be too difficult to explain that to you. I will have the curricle brought round while you change your apparel. We will set off in ten minutes.”
With which, without waiting for Mr Armitage to marshal an argument against such high-handed behaviour, she instructed a footman to show the guest to his bedchamber.
Mr Armitage ran down the stairs, dressed in clean biscuit-coloured trousers, a dazzling white shirt, modestly tied cravat and a well – although not exquisitely – cut blue coat exactly ten minutes after Louisa had commanded him to do so.
She was waiting in the hall and rose from the elegant chair on which she had been sitting to lead the way to the front door. A curricle was standing outside, the horses’ heads held by a groom.
“You have effected a change in your raiment with remarkable speed,” she said as he handed her up.
“I have not a great many clothes to choose between,” he explained. “I suspect that the delay which frequently obtains when people are changing is due to their indecisiveness with regard to which garments they should put on.”
“Very likely,” she agreed. “Have you a man to see to your small wardrobe or would you like me to ask one of our servants to do so while you are here?”
“No, I do not have a ‘man’; I am not accustomed to being attended by a valet and have no wish to put you to the bother of providing me with a servant as well as my board. I can manage by myself.” This statement, although pronounced in a humorous tone, failed to conceal Mr Armitage’s irritation at what he no doubt took to be an aspersion cast upon his means.
“I only meant that perhaps you would like someone to clean and press your clothes while you are here; if you have not a great many, you may wish to have someone perform such a service. I was not implying – or suggesting – that you could not dress by yourself. I notice,” she added, cocking a considering eye at him, “that, in spite of being allotted only ten minutes and having no help, you have tied your cravat with some skill.”
“I hope it meets with your approval.”
“Indeed; it looks well to me.”
“Do you oversee all your male guests’ clothing and the style in which they have tied their cravats?” he asked as they bowled down the drive at considerable speed.
“Oh no, only those whom I perceive to be in need of assistance.”
“Good God! Am I so inferior to all your other guests?” he asked, the amusement, which he had made some effort to maintain, vanishing suddenly.
“No, of course you are not. Forgive me. The thing is you are so much younger than any of the other gentlemen.”
“I see; at what age, in your opinion, does a male person become a man capable of looking after himself without interference from managing females?” The humour had returned but was now directed squarely at his hostess.
“I don’t know; I own I have not thought about a precise age; very likely it depends upon the demeanour of the gentleman in question – about five and twenty perhaps?”
“Ah, in that case, I suppose I should not be surprised that you feel it necessary to look after me. I have still a year to go before I reach your milestone of maturity. Since we seem to be on such intimate terms already, may I enquire how old you are?”
“Do you not know? Three and twenty – but females mature much earlier.”
“Yes,” he said thoughtfully, adding after a suitable pause, “they are already almost ape-leaders by one and twenty, are they not? So, I suppose they become women at about seventeen and may be accounted old four years later. No wonder you have begun to be despotic. Why, you are almost into your dotage!”
“Huh!” she said, whipping up the horse and setting the curricle fairly bucketing down the road.
“I take it you have met my mama,” he said after a few minutes of this whirlwind progress.
“Oh, yes; she is a most estimable person, but very much crushed by your papa’s death, I think.”
“Indeed. You do not say – at which I own I am surprised – but you are no doubt thinking that I have been a poor and inattentive son in not yet having visited her in her new abode. I have not been long in my job and it is difficult to persuade my employers to allow me time away from my desk. After all, her new home is not precisely within easy reach of London.”
“I have thought that,” she admitted, “but I daresay I know nothing about it.”
“Just so,” he agreed urbanely.
Louisa slowed the horse and drew up outside a tiny cottage.
“Here you are,” she said.
“Is this it? Is this where my poor mama has ended up?” he asked, clearly horrified.
“It is very pretty inside,” Louisa said defensively.
“You need not wait,” he told her, jumping down and holding out his hand. “Thank you for bringing me but I am sure I can walk back; I took particular note of the way although it passed in such a flash I may have missed a few landmarks.”
She leaned down and took his hand. “I will come back for you in an hour’s time. There is a quicker way across the fields, which I will show you later.”
She did not wait to make sure he had been admitted before turning the curricle with considerable expertise and setting off in the opposite direction towards her home.
When she arrived less than ten minutes later, she jumped down and consigned the vehicle to the groom, saying, “Bring it back in an hour’s time so that I can fetch Mr Armitage.”
“I could fetch him for you, Miss, if that would assist,” the groom offered.
“I cannot think why I did not consider that before,” she admitted, “but I have promised to return myself so must keep my word, which means, I suppose, that we should set off ten minutes before the hour is reached. Thank you, Bert.”
Chapter 14
When she reached the saloon in which her mother and father were receiving their
guests, she perceived that a great many more had arrived since she set off with Mr Armitage.
“Ah, there you are, my dear,” her mother said, sailing towards her with a determined air, possibly afraid that her daughter would find some further excuse to absent herself from the party if she were not quick to lay hold of her.
“Come and be introduced to Lord Danehill.”
“Delighted, I’m sure,” the Marquess, for it was that most august of the guests, said, bowing.
“I hope you will enjoy your stay in the country,” Louisa said, giving him her hand, accompanied by a humorous smile which implied that he did not look like the sort of man who would be likely to take much pleasure from the country, unless it were on his own estate and he was engaged in issuing orders to his staff.
“I own I was a little reluctant to entrust myself to the mud at first but, since you came into the room, I cannot imagine anything more agreeable.”
“Indeed?” Louisa asked, raising her brows, for she was a little wounded that his lordship did not seem to recall meeting her some five years earlier although, indeed, her mother, who knew perfectly well that the pair had met before, had also pretended ignorance.
“Do you spend your whole time in such rustic seclusion?”
“Most of it although I did come to London a few years ago for my come-out. I own I prefer the country though.”
Even this overt reminder did not appear to trigger the Marquess’s memory. He said coolly, “I see; is it, perhaps, on this account that your mama has brought the town to you since she clearly has some difficulty in bringing you to town?”
She laughed. “I believe you may be right, but pray do not suppose that I am a spoiled brat who gets my own way all the time.”
“I should imagine you get it most of the time though,” he countered with an amused look.
The Marquess had passed Louisa’s milestone for becoming a man some time ago. He was somewhere between forty and fifty and carried himself with all the confidence and certainty of a man who has held a premier title for a number of years. He had inherited his consequence from birth but had attained the marquessate in his twenties and wore his importance with an aplomb born of long practice. He was a tall and handsome man with an aquiline nose, thin but well-formed lips and a fine pair of grey eyes beneath heavy lids. An aura of power hung about him so that Louisa could not help thinking of the conversation she had had with her parents only a few days before. He was, she thought, not unlike her father both in age and manner.
“By no means,” she replied lightly but untruthfully.
“I always think that a woman who is accustomed to getting her own way is a vast deal more appealing than one who sees it as her place to submit to a man,” he observed. “So much more of a challenge!”
“But, unless he is inclined to cede the whip hand to her, do you not think that there might be a deal too many arguments?”
“Oh, I quite like an argument,” he said. “Are you the sort of female who prefers a man to do as he is bid?”
“I own I have not thought about it in that way,” she admitted. “I am too young – and have spent too much of my life amongst the mud – to have much experience in the matter. I am not acquainted with any obedient men.”
“Only disobedient ones?” he asked, laying aside his air of boredom quite suddenly.
“Not even those.”
“But you have spent at least one Season in London and returned to the mud unwed – although I am certain you were not unsought. You must have met a number of men.”
“Met them, yes, but I do not think I knew any of them well enough to be confident of sorting them into obedient or disobedient categories.”
“In that case, I wonder if you would find it amusing to sift through your guests and assign them to one group or the other.”
“Such an exercise would be disrespectful,” she replied primly.
“But fun, n’est-ce-pas? You can begin with me, if you like.”
“I have barely exchanged ten sentences with you – I hardly think I am in any position to make such a judgment.”
“But that is the whole fun of it,” he countered. “And I have already begun by deciding that you are a domineering sort of female. You will disappoint me if you will not have a stab at categorising me.”
“I think,” she said, taking a step back and looking at him gravely, “that you would like me to believe that you are the sort of man who would not do as he is bid – I hesitate to use the word ‘disobedient’ for you are not after all either a child or a dog – and yet I find myself wondering if that – your air of dominance – is merely assumed and, beneath, you are eager to be led.”
“The devil!” he exclaimed. “Cut down by a chit barely old enough to make her own decisions!”
“Oh, I passed my majority some time ago,” she corrected coolly.
“Two years,” he said. “You see I have done my homework!”
“In that case, is there any point in our exchanging views at all? I suppose you must know everything about me.”
“No, I know nothing – or I knew nothing until we began to speak – other than the bald facts: you are three and twenty, you had two Seasons during which you were courted by a number of fortune-hunters, all of whom you turned down, your father is a cit – which may have put a few suitors off – and your mother is from a higher rank than he but conducts herself as though from a lower one. Forgive me – I can see that I have annoyed you.”
“I am surprised you are able to tolerate standing in a house belonging to such vulgar persons. Yes, you have annoyed me – so much indeed that, if this were my house, I would ask you to leave.”
“I will if that is your wish,” he said, adopting a humble air.
“Thus proving immediately that you are, as I surmised, more inclined to obedience than disobedience.”
“It would ill become a guest to refuse to leave if one of his hostesses requested him to do so.”
“It ill becomes him to look down upon his hosts too but you do not seem to have considered that.”
“I suppose one cannot help one’s attitude,” he argued, “but I daresay you are right that one should not display it. Would you like me to go?”
“No; my mother would be disappointed and would wonder why you had left so suddenly. In addition, since she has no doubt observed that we have been talking for some time, I don’t doubt she would put it down to something I said.”
“Would she castigate you? I promise I will explain that it is not something you said but something I said.”
She inclined her head; she felt that she had made her point although she doubted that his lordship would heed her stricture; he would probably put it down to her innate vulgarity that she had refined upon a remark which no doubt persons of his rank saw no reason to withhold.
“I suppose you know all these people here,” she said, casting an expansive look around the room.
“Yes; they are the sort of people I meet all the time,” he agreed, suppressing, apparently with some difficulty and no great success, a yawn.
“I wonder why you graced us with your presence, my lord,” she said rather sharply.
“Oh, that is easy: I wanted to see for myself the sort of house that a cit would build when money is no object.”
“I think it a handsome house,” she said, her eyes flashing.
“Oh, indeed it is – and so comfortable withal. There is a great deal of light coming through those windows and the proportions of the rooms are faultless. Who designed it?”
“Nash.”
“Ah! And I suppose Repton was responsible for the landscape?”
“Yes, but you may be disappointed. I understand gardens take a number of years to reach maturity but in fifty years or so it will be magical.”
“I shall never see it then,” he said with a mournful look, “but you may.”
“I hope so.”
“Is it your intention then to live here for ever? Will you not be prepared to move t
o your husband’s house?”
“I do not have a husband – and am by no means certain that I wish for one. After all, what more could I want than what I have now? It is so hard to judge a person correctly and he might turn out to be disobedient after all. If it transpired that he expected me to be obedient, my life would not be worth living. I certainly have no plans to change my single state.”
“You seem very certain but have you not thought of all those other delights you are missing – the joys of love and later, I suppose, family?”
“I wonder at you, my lord, to lecture me on the joys of family life when you have yourself avoided it.”
“It was not my intention to avoid it and – unfortunately - since I am the possessor of an ancient title – I shall be obliged to take the plunge eventually. It is quite simply that I have never met the sort of woman I would like as my wife.”
“Is it, though, as simple as that? What if you think you have found her but she is not of the same mind? What then will you do, particularly since you have left it quite late?”
“I suppose I shall be obliged to abandon my hopes in that particular direction and look again. I am sure one woman is much like another; I shall not repine.”
“Oh, you have relieved my mind; I had begun, almost, to pity you as I thought of the lonely years stretching ahead of you in contemplation of the chosen woman happily wed to another.”
“It seems to me that you have taken me in dislike,” he observed in a self-pitying tone.
“I will try harder in future to conceal it,” she said kindly. “Since there is no one to whom you wish me to introduce you, I fear I must simply abandon you as I have an appointment which I must keep.”
“An appointment? When your guests have just arrived? What sort of an appointment does a woman make in those circumstances?”
“It is a little odd,” she admitted. “The thing is that some friends of mine find themselves in a difficult situation just at present and, having conveyed one of our guests to their abode a little way down the road, I must now fetch him back if he is not to believe that I have abandoned him.”
Agnes Or The Art 0f Friendship Page 11
