“Is there a hunt meeting in the area?” she enquired. “I have brought my riding habit with me.”
“Naturally,” he replied. “On the first Saturday of every month. You are very fortunate in your timing, Lady Waterton, as there is one this weekend.”
“Excellent!” she cried, clapping her hands together.
By the time that coffee had been served, he thought rather more of Lady Waterton than at first.
But there was someone else who was occupying his thoughts –
“Mama,” he announced. “I am going over to the Whitbys this afternoon. I have some plans I wish to show Sir George.”
“Very wise, dear,” replied his mother, enjoying her raspberries and cream.
“I would just love to see your estate,” hinted Lady Waterton.
“I am afraid that I must visit our neighbour on some urgent business,” responded the Earl, as courteously as he could. “But we shall make certain that you see the estate before your visit comes to an end.”
He made his apologies and left. He fancied that he caught a slight look of disappointment as he bade farewell to Lady Waterton.
He felt as if he had been freed from prison by the time he was galloping across the fields on Monty.
He could not wait to show Sir George his plans, but equally the thought of being able to see the lovely Miranda again made his blood course faster.
As he arrived at The Grange, his heart leapt as he spied Miranda in the garden, helping her mother cut the last of the roses.
She waved as he dismounted and set down her trug.
“The stable boy will take care of your horse,” she called to him in her musical voice that touched something inside him. “He is a fine specimen, what is his name?”
“Monty,” replied the Earl. “I hope he will not cause any trouble in your stable – he can be a little high-spirited.”
“Then he shall go into the field,” she suggested, as a stable boy appeared as if summoned by magic.
The boy led Monty off and Miranda bade him enter the house.
“Papa is in his study. Walk with me there.”
“I have the most wonderful ideas for the estate,” he blurted out, finding himself turning into a small boy again, full of enthusiasm and eager to share it. “I am planning a new dairy farm and workmen’s cottages.”
“Excellent,” said Miranda, pushing open the front door. “You will make your estate the most important and modern in the whole County, if not the entire country! If you need any help, you must come and ask me. I confess I am bored stiff since I returned from London. There is only so much help I can give Mama in the garden!”
They halted outside the study door while Miranda knocked softly.
‘Could she really consider working for me?’ mused the Earl.
The prospect of having an excuse to see her every day appeared highly attractive.
“Enter!”
“In you go. I must return to the garden, but you must promise me that you will think about what I have just said,” whispered Miranda.
“Of course!” he nodded.
“Templeton! Not another uprising on the estate, I hope?” boomed Sir George.
“No, nothing so dreadful. I have some plans, some ideas for the estate that I wish you to see and for a second opinion.”
“Delighted! Spread them out on this desk, Robert. I am afraid it is the only empty surface in the room! Now before we get to business, would you care for some tea?”
Even before the Earl had replied, Sir George had his hand on the servants’ bell.
The Earl now unfolded all his plans and Sir George scrutinised them peering through his glasses.
“A dairy farm, eh?” he said after a while. “A most inventive idea. There has never been a dairy farm on the estate to my knowledge.”
“As the population grows, so does the demand for milk,” expounded the Earl. “I can see that we could make a good profit and do much to enhance our reputation as a modern estate to boot.”
“And the workmen’s cottages?”
“It has now occurred to me that the renovations I am planning mean that we will need workmen for at least the next five years. Rather than have them sleeping in barns, they can bring their families here to live and maybe work on the estate.”
“Excellent idea, Robert! A forward-thinking man is always a man who makes money! We must all seize our opportunities to expand and an estate is just like any other business.”
“There is another matter I was hoping you could help me with,” added the Earl. “I find myself quite unable to cope with the amount of paperwork that keeps arriving. I need a secretary and I was thinking of the woman who used to work for Papa – Miss Jenkins?”
Sir George’s face lit up.
“Of course! She was also my old secretary when I was a magistrate!”
“Really? I did not know that.”
“Yes, it was before she worked for your father. By now she must be quite middle-aged, but you will not find a more efficient woman in the entire County!”
“Do you by any chance still have her address so that I might write to her at once?”
“I think I might have it somewhere – ” murmured Sir George diving into a drawer.
As he rummaged the Earl added quietly,
“Whilst on the subject of secretaries, you do know that your daughter has just offered her services to me?”
Sir George stopped and laughed heartily.
“She is bored and I have to say I would not object if you did take her off my hands during the day. Miranda is a superb organiser and good at dealing with tradesmen. I could not have done without her when we laid pipes from the stream to the house and despite her youth she was the very demon ensuring that the workmen performed!”
The Earl paused slightly taken aback. It was not the response he had expected.
“Let me think about it, Sir George, as although I am a modern man, I am much of the opinion that a woman’s place is in the home – and in Miranda’s case that means helping you and your wife.”
“Although I would usually agree with you, I have said I would be overjoyed if you took her off my hands. You would be doing me a favour as well as amusing her!”
The Earl did not need further encouragement. His heart leapt as he answered,
“Then I shall ask her at once. I am eager to begin work and am unfamiliar with the local tradesmen – who is to be trusted and who is not – and she would be invaluable in advising me.”
Sir George rang the bell again and, when Mervin appeared, he requested that Miss Miranda would come to the study at once.
A few minutes later she appeared, flushed and with an expression of curiosity on her face.
“What is it, Papa?”
“Lord Templeton has something to ask of you.”
“Yes. Miranda, would you consider coming to help me transform my estate? I will have need of someone who knows which tradesmen to choose and to supervise my secretary. Is that something that would appeal to you? Your father has given the notion his blessing.”
“Yes! Yes!” cried Miranda, clapping her hands.
Almost as a reflex action the Earl stretched out his hand to shake hers and seal the deal.
As her soft hand clasped his, he felt something stir inside him.
She was laughing and showing her neat white teeth. He noticed for the first time how thick her fair hair was. It was pulled on to the top of her head in a becoming loose knot while her fringe framed her pigeon-grey eyes.
He was still staring at her when Sir George spoke to break the spell.
“Come on now, we should enjoy something a little stronger than tea to celebrate this great day!” he proposed, ringing for Mervin again. “The day Ledbury Hall begins its ascent as one of the most modern and up-to-date estates in the whole of the British Isles!”
Miranda smiled at the Earl and gazed into his eyes. He felt his heart leap once more as they held each other’s stare for just a little longer than
was appropriate.
He fancied he saw a blush spread over her features when at last she looked down.
When Mervin brought in a decanter of sherry and poured three small glasses, he found himself compelled to look back at Miranda as they toasted their future.
“Here’s to us, Ledbury Hall and a brilliant future!” called Sir George.
“To us!” murmured the Earl and Miranda, as they steadfastly looked into each other’s eyes –
CHAPTER SIX
The Earl sat in his bedroom and looked aimlessly into the middle distance. Having taken off his riding habit, he was now wearing his silk dressing gown.
Monkhouse had taken his dinner jacket away for pressing, so he passed the time in idle contemplation.
He was thinking constantly of Miranda and her soft fair hair, her smiling grey eyes –
He was so impressed that she was equally at home with her hands in the earth or composed in her father’s drawing room.
There was something so very unaffected about her.
‘And she was in London for the Season earlier this year!’ he marvelled, believing that every debutante was prone to excesses of affectation and social one-upmanship.
‘I can hardly believe that she is the same little girl who rescued me single-handed from a deep snowdrift!’ he mused. ‘She was always so big for her age – she was almost my height in those days and as strong as an ox – and yet, she has grown into a fine-boned young woman who is at once both sturdy and elegant. How could it be?’
He was still pondering Miranda’s exquisite bone structure when Monkhouse returned to the room, carrying the pressed dinner jacket.
“Would you care to dress now, my Lord? Or can I fetch you something else first?”
He smiled because Monkhouse knew that he liked to indulge in a small whisky before dinner.
“The usual, please, Monkhouse.”
The Earl savoured his drink and took his time dressing. The gong had long since sounded and he was still in his shirt and trousers.
“Her Ladyship will be upset if you are late,” Monkhouse gently chided him.
The Earl laughed.
“Mama will forgive me this once!”
Then he remembered that they had a guest and groaned. His mother would surely place Lady Waterton next to him and she would be throwing expectant looks at him all evening.
His thoughts were rudely interrupted by the sound of the gong striking again loudly downstairs.
“I have now been summoned by Mama,” he sighed, moving towards the door. “She is tired of waiting for me.”
He ran quickly down to the dining room.
As he did so, he reflected that the hall badly needed redecorating. Was not the ceiling looking a little dingy? And the chandelier seemed old-fashioned with its wrought-iron arms. Venetian crystal would be much more fitting –
As he entered the dining room, he was delighted to see that his brother, Alec, was already seated.
“You are feeling better?” he asked, rushing towards him to clap him on the back.
“The plaster all came off this afternoon while you were out,” he replied. “I still have my leg strapped up, but at least I can walk a little on it.”
The Earl tried to ignore the peacock-hued vision at the end of the table. Lady Waterton had donned a costume of questionable taste for dinner.
“But don’t worry, Robert,” continued Alec. “I will not be fit enough yet awhile to interfere with the great new plans you have for the Hall and estate!”
“You must sit next to me,” crooned Lady Waterton, patting the chair beside her with an enormous feather fan.
The Earl gave a thin smile and moved to the seat.
“Did you have a pleasant afternoon?” asked his mother, signalling to Stringer to begin serving the meal.
“Yes indeed, Mama, I went to see Sir George with the plans. He thought them ambitious and innovative.”
Stringer placed a cup of consommé in front of him.
“I would so very much like to see your plans,” said Lady Waterton, setting her fan in her lap.
“I am afraid that you would find them very dull,” countered the Earl.
“But I have some knowledge of renovation work. My late husband undertook a great many improvements on our house in Scotland.”
“Oh, I would never presume to bore you while you are staying with us. There is so much else to enjoy. Did Stringer not give you the details of this weekend’s hunt?”
With the subject neatly changed, she knew better than to persist. She could tell that he was not going to be easily won over!
‘Most likely, he is too much of a man’s man,’ she decided, picking up her fan and spreading it across her face in what she felt was a coquettish and delightful pose. ‘All that time spent with his Regiment – ’
The conversation did not flow freely that evening.
The Earl answered all her questions briefly and no amount of fluttering on the part of Lady Waterton appeared to soften his disposition.
As much as possible he only addressed himself to her out of politeness, preferring to talk to Alec or to remain silent.
The Countess sat at the head of the table and grew increasingly frustrated with him. This was not how she had envisaged the evening would progress!
As the last dishes were cleared at the end of the meal, the Earl dabbed his mouth and announced,
“Mama, I am now thinking of re-employing Miss Jenkins – Papa’s old secretary. I fear that I am unable to cope with the amount of estate paperwork and if we are to return the house to its former glory, then I will need help.”
“What a splendid idea, Robert! She is undoubtedly a suitable and upright woman and I will be happy to have her back at the Hall. Your father spoke so very highly of her diligence.”
“And I have also asked Miranda Whitby to help me with overseeing the workmen.”
This remark was met with a stony silence and his mother’s face took on a sour air.
“Do you mean that I shall have to endure that little ragamuffin in my house?”
The Earl was taken aback. He had not expected such a reaction.
Flying to Miranda’s defence, he replied,
“But Mama, she is grown up now and quite the young lady!”
“Nonsense, once a tomboy always a tomboy. I had thought that her aunt had found her some Lord or other to marry in London?”
The Earl did not know how to respond. Surely his mother was not harbouring a grudge after all this time?
He remembered that his mother had never forgiven Miranda for the snowdrift accident and that she had unfairly blamed the girl totally, even though she had saved him.
“I think Miss Whitby would have mentioned to me if she was engaged,” he said in a tone that belied his inner turmoil. “And I hardly think her future fiancé would be happy with her working alongside another man if that was indeed the case.”
The Countess showed her disdain by tutting loudly. She did not want to quell his sudden rush of enthusiasm on taking control of the estate, but on the other hand –
‘Miranda Whitby!’ she muttered to herself.
Lady Waterton was feeling quite uneasy during this exchange. She did not fancy the sound of another young woman entering the scene one little bit!
She could not afford for anyone to step in her way and snatch the object of her mission.
After coffee the Countess announced that she was tired and that she believed Alec was looking a little pale.
“You must not exert yourself, my darling,” she said rising from the table.
The Earl leapt to his feet.
“No, Robert. Do please stay and keep our guest company. Alec and I shall see you in the morning.”
She took Alec’s arm and swept out of the room, leaving the Earl feeling somewhat ruffled that he had been left with Lady Waterton.
“I would offer you a brandy, but I do not expect you are very fond of strong liquor,” began the Earl, hoping he would be able to escape
to the drawing room and enjoy a quiet cigar.
He looked at the turquoise-clad vision next him and thought that she put him in mind of a large fishing fly!
Although she had charms, any attraction he might have felt for her had been washed away by the vision of Miranda’s soft grey eyes.
“Oh, I am very fond of brandy!” she replied rising from her seat with a broad smile.
Her green eyes looked up invitingly at him as she moistened her lips. He noticed that her dress had the most enormous bustle he had ever seen and that it swayed like a howdah on top of an elephant as she walked.
‘Goodness, this woman will not take the hint!’ he thought despairingly, as she took his arm and allowed him to lead her to the drawing room.
Stringer poured two brandies and left the room.
The Earl need not have worried about what to say to Lady Waterton, as she chattered on at him until midnight struck. Eventually, pleading exhaustion, he attempted to retire for the night.
“So soon?” she pouted. “And I was so enjoying our discussion!”
“I am afraid I must rise early, as Miss Whitby will be arriving for her first day’s work tomorrow.”
“Oh, just give her some correspondence to work on to keep her occupied!” she said with a dismissive gesture.
Immediately he rose to Miranda’s defence.
“She is not my secretary – she is too talented for mere office work,” he retorted, as calmly as he could. “I have another lady I hope to engage for that post, the Miss Jenkins I mentioned earlier at dinner.”
“But, I had thought it would be nice if you took me riding tomorrow morning to show me your estate!”
‘This woman really is persistent,’ he fumed to himself. Aloud he said stiffly,
“I have many matters to attend to tomorrow. We shall see.”
“Oh, but your mother has already said that she will not be at home tomorrow morning and I’ll be quite alone. How shall I occupy myself?”
Faced with the prospect of upsetting his mother, the Earl realised that he could not win this argument. He rose from his chair saying,
A Kiss from the Heart Page 8
