Miss Ryder's Memoirs

by Laura Matthews

  The gold tassels on his Hessians swung jauntily as he walked, and Amanda watched them in sheer fascination. I could practically feel her awe. None of the gentlemen in our neighborhood owned Hessians like that, or as I mentioned previously, coats that clung to broad shoulders like a second skin. I wondered what Amanda would do if Sir John tried to kiss her. I'll bet she's never been kissed, though she's allowed enough young men to dangle after her. Whereas I ... Well, my story is a little different.

  I should admit that Amanda never encouraged Cousin Bret to dangle after her. No amount of wooing on his part could determine her to pay the least notice of him. Which is why I couldn't fault her judgment entirely. I was convinced she was playing with dangerous stuff if she encouraged Sir John, though.

  “And where are the stables?” he was inquiring. “I wonder if you would mind very much, my dear Miss Amanda, if we were to just make a brief stop there. I'd like to see that my horses and groom are settled in."

  No one cared a whit if I wanted to go there or not! Naturally we went to the stables. “Is there a direct path from here to the house?” he asked.

  Amanda assured him that there was.

  “If I'm late coming in of an evening, will I have any difficulty getting in the house?"

  “Oh, I shouldn't think so,” she said. “One of the footmen is on duty all night in the front hall."

  “Perhaps there's another way in, that would be less disruptive to the household,” he suggested.

  “Well, I'm not sure.” Amanda looked across his wide chest to consult me. “Is there, Catherine?"

  As if I were going to tell this stranger about our arrangements! “I don't see any problem with him using the front entrance, just as everyone else does. That is, after all, the purpose of having a footman available."

  Sir John was not satisfied with my answer. He frowned down at me. “Surely your brother Robert didn't always wish to pass a footman's inspection late at night. I've noticed there are back stairs that must come almost directly from the rear of the house. I suspect there's a key to that door hidden somewhere outside. Just the sort of thing we'd do at my home, you know."

  “I'm sure I wouldn't know,” I sniffed. “Perhaps you aren't so concerned with security at your home."

  “Why, I believe you're right,” Amanda exclaimed, clapping her hands as though she'd just made the most famous discovery. “Robert hated to come in by the front entrance when he'd been ... off with his friends and out late. I'm sure he kept a key in a compartment of the bird-feeder in the kitchen garden. Let's go look for it!''

  “Capital idea!"

  Honestly, the man sounded more like a burglar than a houseguest.

  By the time we'd checked on his horses and uncovered a rusting old key, I was irritated beyond anything. He was encouraging my sister's obvious infatuation; in fact, he seemed to know precisely how to act to enhance it. Yet I would have sworn he wasn't quite the man she surmised—charming, thoughtful, considerate, honorable. That devilish demeanor he'd displayed at the pond might be in hiding now, but it certainly wasn't a figment of my imagination.

  The long and short of it was that I didn't trust Sir John one inch. I decided to set a trap for him that night, by tying a thread across his door. If the thread was broken in the morning, I would know that he had left his room that night, and the next night I'd be on the watch for him. It was the saddest thing that my sleep would be ruined, but there are some sacrifices one must make.

  I set about my task soon after everyone had retired. When I stood in the darkened hall and strung the thread from the shining brass doorknob to the elaborate sconce beside the door frame, I could hear the man still moving around in his room and then the protest of the bed as he climbed onto it.

  His room, which was only around the corner from mine, had a delightful canopied bed that was rather a conversation piece in our family. There were rumors that several illustrious people had slept in it—and one of them had carved his initials, like a common schoolboy! My father had picked it up at an auction five years previously. We weren't the sort of family the great and near-great visited as a common occurrence. Though we would become a little more prominent when Robert came into the earldom. But I digress. I'll explain that anon.

  Sir John was a large man, but the bed was enormous and I heard his murmur of approbation as he stretched out on the comfortable down mattress. If he decided to get up in the night and wander out of his room, he wouldn't notice the thread, since it would break with the greatest of ease. I would have chosen something different if I'd wanted a different result, like locking him in his room! It would come to that only in an emergency.

  Exhausted from the excitements of the day, I crept back to my room. My body remained pink and warm from the sun. Seeing it in the glass served to remind me of Sir John's villainy and I blushed to think of his view. Well, I would repay him for his misdeeds in time.

  Dutch sleeps in my room, at the foot of my bed, and when I arose in the early-dawn light, I nearly stepped on him. He gave a yelp of terror and padded off to a safe corner while I slipped a dressing gown over my nightdress. My eyes were half-shut with sleep and my hair was tousled from my pillow. I had decided to climb back in bed when I was finished. I would just slip down the hall and around the corner to check the thread before there was any chance that Sir John awoke.

  I knew every spot in the hall that makes the slightest squeak. We used to wander around a lot when we were children—against the express wishes of our nanny, of course. So I was able to creep along quite silently to Sir John's door. The thread I'd used was black, and in the dimness I couldn't see if it was there. I reached out to run a finger along the frame, to feel for it.

  “My, my,” a voice whispered close by me. “I had no idea the mermaid was given to early-morning visits, or I would certainly have stayed in my bed."

  His voice had so startled me that I literally felt my heart leap in my chest and knock against my ribs. I found myself flattened against his door, cowering away from him, but thank goodness my voice did not let me down. “So there you are,” I whispered back fiercely. “I knew you would be out during the night on some nefarious activity, and I've caught you!"

  “My dear girl, you have done nothing of the sort. And if you insist on a rendezvous with a male house-guest, I really think I should advise you to dress a little more, ah, glamorously. It's all well for a man to realize that his dearest may look a bit rumpled in the morning, but he doesn't really want to see it, if you take my meaning."

  “I did not come here for a rendezvous! I came to check the..."

  “What? You came to check the what?” he asked, his eyes shining with amusement.

  Is it possible to hate someone you've only known for a few hours? No one had ever laughed at me the way he seemed determined to do. People scolded me for unruly behavior, or warned me about my pranks, or were occasionally amazed by my bravery and cleverness (yes, they were!), but no one of my acquaintance regarded me with such unholy amusement as this mysterious stranger.

  “Never mind,” I said. “Where have you been?"

  “I was about to go riding, but remembered my gauntlets before getting halfway down the back stairs. Does that disappoint you, Miss Ryder?"

  “Why would you ride at this hour? It's barely light."

  “Odd,” he muttered, a perplexed expression lifting one brow. “No one has ever before questioned my habits. If anyone ever had, I believe I should have told them that it was none of their business. But you, my dear Miss Ryder, I shall tell the true reason. I ride at this hour because I wish to ride at this hour. There!” He said this as though it were a great concession to me.

  “You should let someone know,” I snapped, exasperated. “Otherwise there might not be anyone at the stables to help you, or one of the servants might think you were a thief wandering around the house in the dead of night."

  “Now that I cannot believe.” He made a sweeping gesture toward the back stairs. “I've heard more than one person moving about in
this area during the night. And if any of them were thieves, I don't believe your footman captured them. Have you many valuables to attract thieves to Hastings?"

  “I'm sure we have just as many valuables as the next family—heirlooms, jewelry, that sort of thing.” My head came up sharply. “What do you mean, you've heard people on the stairs during the night?"

  “I'm a light sleeper,” he confessed. “My room is too close to the stairs for me to be ignorant of the passage of several sets of feet. No doubt it was the servants locking up or checking out the random noises in the night. Or perhaps your mother or sister are restless sleepers and made their way down to the kitchen for a glass of warm milk."

  His eyes seemed to demand some answer to this last remark, but I was in no mood to satisfy his curiosity even though he had provoked my own. “Hmmm. I think perhaps we must switch your room, Sir John. It won't do to have your rest disturbed by the comings and goings of the household."

  “No.” His voice brooked no argument. “I don't wish to have my room changed, Miss Ryder. I can tolerate these, ah, small disturbances very nicely. And the room is so convenient for my early-morning rides."

  Frustrated and feeling that no further purpose would be served by my remaining there, especially since his gaze wandered with interest over my dishabille, I put my chin up and said, “Have a pleasant ride, sir. No doubt I shall see you later in the day. I don't, as a rule, leave my bed this early."

  “Too bad,” he murmured as he let himself into his room.

  Chapter 4

  You would have thought that anyone who used as an excuse the necessity of hunting out some carriage horses would have set about the task immediately. Not Sir John. He spent the whole day wandering about the house, making eyes at Amanda, and further investigating the grounds and stables. I could hardly bear not to chide him upon this matter, but Mama kept giving me a stern look, as though I might spoil Amanda's chances of landing such a catch.

  Pooh! We didn't know a thing about the man. For all our knowledge from Robert, Sir John might be poor as a church mouse. Except for the excuse of looking for carriage horses. It would be easy enough for him to pretend he couldn't find what he needed. His clothes were no assurance of his having the ready, either; I've heard over and over again that young bloods in London buy their clothes on tick and forget to pay their tailors. An inexcusable habit, in my opinion. Tailors’ families have to eat, too.

  It was not until the second day after he arrived that Sir John mentioned his intention of visiting Overview Stables. These are on the Newmarket Road only a few miles from Hastings. When he brought up the subject at breakfast, Mama smiled kindly on him.

  “An admirable place, Sir John,” she said. “Robert likes their horses almost as much as those he's had from Hinchly Farms. But you should take your time, you know. Perhaps a picnic would make your search a little easier. Mrs. Cooper could pack you a nuncheon to be eaten by the river on your way, or on the way back."

  “What a delightful idea,” Sir John exclaimed. “I don't suppose you could spare your daughter to accompany me?"

  He was looking at Amanda, of course. His curricle held only two riders, and the groom up behind. Mama would hardly allow Amanda to go out alone in his company, I thought with some satisfaction, nor would Amanda herself be persuaded that it was a proper thing to do.

  “I believe I could spare her,” Mama agreed with a coy look. “Any plans we have for tatting or cutting flowers for the hall can easily be put off to another day."

  Amanda was blushing prettily. “How kind of you to offer, Sir John. There is nothing I like better than a picnic, and I know just the spot for it."

  I could not believe my ears! Had their wits gone begging? It was one thing for either of us to go off with a neighborhood lad for a few hours, someone my mother had known for years, but this stranger! Surely they were mad. Not even Robert's introduction made it excusable.

  “Amanda won't be of the least use to you in finding the way or in choosing your horses,” I said. “She has the worst sense of direction of anyone I know, and can't distinguish one road from another. And as for her knowledge of horses...” I laughed merrily. “You would be ashamed to be caught dead on any nag my sister chose. It would be broken-winded and forever throwing out splints, to say nothing of being the showiest nag you've ever laid eyes on. You had much better take me with you."

  The three of them stared at me. Mama managed to kick me under the table, though I was sitting a considerable distance from her. Dutch moved at a surprising pace to get out of the way of Amanda's delicate little foot. Sir John was the first to recover, and the only one who didn't, presumably, try to kick me.

  “Your thoughtfulness is much appreciated, Miss Ryder. I don't for a moment, however, expect my companion to offer me advice on choosing my carriage horses. Perhaps you will be so good as to give me your opinion once I've determined on a pair for your brother. As to my own choice...” He shrugged his broad shoulders. “I didn't even take my father's advice in such matters once I came of age."

  “Of course you won't go with him,” my mother declared indignantly as she recovered the spoon she had dropped. “It is Amanda whom he desires to accompany him. I'm sure she can give him adequate directions.” She looked thoughtful for a brief moment and then added, “But perhaps it would be wisest for him to speak with one of our grooms before they leave."

  “Isn't Jeremy Woods expected today?” I asked, playing my last card.

  “I'm sure I don't know if Robert's old friend intends to call,” Amanda muttered, tossing her napkin down on the table as she rose. “I can be ready in an hour, if that will suit you,” she said to the baronet.

  “Perfect.” He rose to his feet with all the grace of a fencer, smiling so warmly on her that I thought her lips must catch fire. “I'll be sure not to overset the curricle with such a precious cargo, but you must wear a bonnet that will protect you a little from the wind. My horses would be disappointed if I didn't set them properly to their paces."

  Sixteen-mile-an-hour ones, if I knew anything about it, which I certainly did. Amanda would have her heart in her throat the whole time. She can't abide driving fast and begs anyone who takes her out to keep the beasts to a walk. But I knew she would not dare come straight out with the request of Sir John. Perhaps after a few minutes she would say, “Why, I do believe we're going so fast that I cannot see the landscape quite as well as I would like.” What a pest she is. No doubt Sir John would be like all the other men and reluctantly draw his horses in to a mild trot in an effort to please her. Humph.

  I went to see them off, just to discomfit Amanda. Yes, yes, I know that was unpleasant of me, but there it is. She was standing in her finest bonnet, tied down with a length of Mama's best net, and pretending to admire Sir John's chestnuts. “How superbly matched they are,” she cried, eyeing them with alarm.

  “Huge,” I said. “They are the largest beasts I've seen in many a month. I suppose they're extraordinarily fast?"

  “As the wind,” he agreed. “Miss Amanda will never have had such a drive before, I trust."

  “Oh, you mustn't hurry them on my account,” she insisted, her face paling.

  “They're impatient unless they're doing a hearty pace. Don't worry your head about that."

  I turned my back to him and grinned at her maliciously. “Oh, you'll have a splendid time. Flying along in that fragile curricle! How lucky you are, my dear sister.''

  She almost stamped her foot with anger at me, but recalled herself in time. “Of course I shall.” And she lifted her round chin so high I thought her pink bonnet would fall off backward.

  Sir John handed her into the curricle, and I could see what he meant by its balance. Just Amanda's weight made it tilt precariously. He positioned himself carefully as he set foot in it himself and gathered up the reins. Positioning himself carefully meant that he placed himself very close to my sister. I have to admit that he looked splendid sitting there, his gauntlets tightly gripping the leather straps, hi
s boots braced against the footboard of the curricle. Those broad shoulders could not help but touch Amanda's, and his muscular thighs must have done the same, though I couldn't precisely see.

  His artistry in setting the horses to their paces was something I could appreciate, and I suppose it must have been what drew Robert's notice to him in the first place. Robert is a great admirer of a true whipster. I wouldn't have been surprised to learn that Sir John was one of those wild blades who had actually driven a mail coach. Rumors of such things reached us even in the country, and the baronet seemed just the sort of fellow who wouldn't be able to resist that challenge.

  When they had disappeared toward the Newmarket Road, I wandered back into the stable, feeling both neglected and disgruntled. Why did everyone assume that Amanda ... Well, it didn't really matter to me, so I refused to think about it. When I had made my way to Lofty's box stall, I stood there running my fingers through her forelock and whispering sweet words in her flickering ears. Before long our groom, Jed, appeared at my side.

  “I'm that surprised it weren't you went with the gentleman,” he said, grinning up with his mouthful of missing teeth. “Weren't he goin’ off to look at horses at Overview?"

  “Yes, and he assures us that he doesn't need any help in choosing them."

  Jed laughed. “Small wonder, ma'am. Never seen such prime ‘uns as those chestnuts. Groom said he got ‘em near Chelverton goin’ on two years. Must be a breeder good as Hinchly, eh?"

  “That's what I was thinking. But he'd never heard of Hinchly. Probably because the man's so irascible with strangers. We're the lucky ones, not having all his horses sent off to London. Do you suppose none of his horses has ever come up at Tattersall's?"

  “Mayhap. Mr. Robert wouldn't let any of his end up there. Which minds me. That cousin of your'n be riding Thunder again, even one nighttime. Is that all right by you?"