‘When you do eventually marry, you must choose someone who will make your domestic life much more enjoyable.’
He shook his head. ‘I’ve had little enough evidence that such households exist, but I won’t dispute your memories of your own experience. Is...is that the sort of home you expect to establish with your engineer?’
‘I certainly hope to. Austin became indispensable to us all after my brother’s death. He carried the load at the office while Papa was too grief-stricken to work, watched out for Mama, and was so incredibly kind and attentive to the lost little girl I’d become. Having him nearby is like...like being in a wrapped in a warm shawl before a cosy fire on a bitter winter day. One feels safe, comfortable and cared for. Of course, he does still treat me like Papa’s little girl. I... I hope he will allow me to continue working in the office if we marry, but of course, since he hasn’t as yet indicated he wishes to marry me, I’ve had no opportunity to enquire about that. If he should not want me there, I suppose I shall have to accept it, and be content.’
He angled a probing glance at her. ‘Can you be content? With comfort and kindness, instead of the stimulating intellectual partnership you’re looking for?’
A question she often asked herself—and had such difficulty answering, she usually pushed away thinking about it. ‘I suppose I shall have to be.’
‘Content with comfort, rather than...passion?’
She looked up sharply, a zing of awareness jolting through her. It was well and good to dream about kisses...about closeness and more. Giddy, tempting—and far too dangerous.
When she looked away without answering, he said, ‘I might not know much about domestic harmony, but I do know one should not live without passion. Especially not someone with your intelligence and fire.’
‘That’s easy enough for a man to say!’ she flung back. ‘You can behave as you wish, without facing consequences. It’s very different for a female.’
‘Not so different,’ he argued. ‘A gentleman, too, has to marry in the end.’
‘Ah, but before he does, he can have the pleasure of riding about England where and when he chooses, answering to no one. No doubt catching the eye of any number of appreciative females.’
He grinned. ‘You think I catch the eye of appreciative females?’
‘I think, unless they are of invincible virtue, they would be quite vulnerable.’
‘How invincible is your virtue?’
‘Until now, I’d thought it infallible.’ Breaking free of his intent gaze to stare down at his hand beside hers, so very conscious of his beguiling nearness, she said frankly, ‘Now I’m not so sure. So you mustn’t tempt me.’
He tipped her chin back up to face him, smiling faintly. ‘Sadly, you are right. I mustn’t tempt you—or myself. Not if we want to salvage friendship once your Season ends. I do look forward to meeting you again, perhaps chatting in your father’s office when I come to enquire about the progress on the Great Western.’
‘I would love to see you! I could make you tea. Go over engineering drawings with you.’
‘We must make it happen. But I see Lady Arlsley returning, so I should take myself off before I truly outstay the acceptable interval. I’ll linger in the refreshment room, watching, until you depart, just in case. Signal if you should need me.’
‘That’s very kind.’ Much as she wanted to press him to stay, she knew it was time for him to quit her company. There were already far too many eyes avidly watching them—probably with mental timepieces ticking in their ears to calculate just how long he remained chatting with her. ‘I shall probably have to suffer through a few minutes of conversation with Hoddleston, but with Lady Arlsley so delighted by the continuing attentions of a far greater prize, she’ll not want to risk discouraging your pursuit by seeming too ardent about encouraging his.’
As he stood, she said, ‘Thank you again for playing duets with me. Perhaps we can play again some time.’
‘I can’t imagine where, but I’d enjoy it. We must look for an opportunity.’
‘We should. Good evening, my lord.’
‘You’ll ride again tomorrow? Maybe I can accompany Lady Margaret. Restrain her from saying anything too outrageous.’
Marcella laughed. ‘I wish you luck with that.’
He smiled back. ‘Thank you—for an evening that was much more enjoyable than I expected.’
‘My pleasure.’ After pressing her fingers briefly, he bowed and walked away.
Marcella cradled her tingling hand. Dellamont wasn’t hers and wasn’t going to be. She needed to school herself to let him go without feeling this pointless sense of regret.
Nor did she dare want him to be hers...since in the unlikely event he wanted her, any fairy-tale dreams of happiness would surely be doomed by all the obstacles such an ill-matched couple would face. A fact she needed to emphasise to her sometimes heedless heart.
Better to focus her attention instead on thinking about venues and opportunities at which she might meet him in future as a friend, at her father’s office or elsewhere.
Such meetings being the only prudent way to maintain any contact with him once their bargain ended.
Chapter Ten
In the morning two days later, Marcella rode to the park, her groom trailing her. She was looking forward to seeing Dellamont, who had been unable to accompany her and Lady Margaret yesterday, but had promised his sister to attend her this morning.
As they trotted along, she mulled over the brief conversation she’d had with Austin Gilling when she stopped by the office to have tea with her father the previous afternoon.
Gilling had declined to join them, but as she was leaving, he rose from his desk to walk her out, asking how she was enjoying her debut. When she replied drily that she was enduring it, he said, ‘So you don’t intend to marry an aristocrat?’
Had she detected an interest deeper than politeness in that enquiry? ‘That was my mother’s dream, not mine,’ she replied. ‘I entered society to please her and Grandfather. My hope since I started assisting Papa at the office has been to wed someone from my own world...the world of engineering. Someone I esteem and trust.’
She could have hardly made her intention clearer without actually proposing to him. Hoping she hadn’t gone too far, she held her breath until he finally replied, ‘Sometimes it’s difficult to realise the sweet little girl who sobbed on my shoulder after her brother’s death has grown up. It was a...shock to learn you’d embarked on a debut.’
‘A shock to me, too. But even Papa agrees I must wed some time.’
Pausing by the door, his fair face colouring, he said, ‘I think it quite likely that your hopes for a husband from the engineering world will be realised.’
Then, bowing, as she left.
Had he been hinting he himself would help her realise it? Had she detected a change in the way he treated her—something deeper, more personal than the avuncular affection he’d always shown her since childhood? Or was that only her wishful imagining at work?
At the least, he’d seemed to say he had been shocked into recognising she was now a woman grown. Perhaps if he’d not decided what he wanted to do about that fact by the time she left society, the calls she hoped Dellamont would make to her father’s office would prompt him into further action.
Turning her cherished vision of wedding her childhood hero into reality. It was what she’d wanted for years now, wasn’t it?
If a certain virile, dark-haired, dark-eyed gentleman was currently distracting her from that vision, it was hardly alarming—he was, after all, handsome and charming. But like the Season she’d embarked upon, he was a temporary detour from the path of her life. The sugar icing on a delicious dessert, something to be enjoyed for the moment, but not the nourishing stuff that sustained one over the long years.
As she rode through the park gates, a rider on side-sa
ddle in the distance waved at her. Recognising Lady Margaret, she waved back, her pulse kicking up a notch when she saw Dellamont on his black gelding beside his sister.
Might as well savour every bit of sweetness while the dessert lasted, she told herself, signalling her horse to a trot as she rode to meet them.
‘Lady Margaret, Lord Dellamont, so good to see you,’ she said as she reined in beside them.
‘Delighted to see you again,’ Dellamont replied, giving her a smile that set off an annoying little flutter in her belly.
Trying to quell the feeling, she turned her attention to his sister. ‘How was the call on the Almack’s patronesses, Lady Margaret? As gruelling as you had expected?’
‘Lady Cowper was frosty, Lady Jersey condescending, but Mama is so sweet and earnest and unassuming, they both gradually thawed. Towards her, of course, not towards me. I’m only a chit of no account who’s not even out yet.’
‘Mama’s just trying to establish the contacts you’ll need during next year’s presentation,’ Dellamont reminded his sister. ‘Something she will surely accomplish, as long as you’re not countering her efforts by being sulky or impertinent to the matrons whose approval will make or break your success.’
‘I was, as required, meek and monosyllabic.’
Dellamont laughed. ‘I wish I’d been a fly on the wall to observe it. I have a hard time imagining you maintaining a bashful demeanour for more than a few minutes without exploding from the strain.’
‘Fortunately, a proper call only lasts half an hour,’ Lady Margaret said. ‘I’m able to contain myself that long. How did you spend your afternoon, Miss Cranmore?’
‘I called on my father at his office. I haven’t had much time with him since all this began, and I have missed our afternoon teas.’
Lady Margaret shook her head wonderingly. ‘I still find it remarkable that you and your father have tea together and chat.’
‘I am very fortunate in his affection,’ Marcella said simply.
‘I wouldn’t know about that,’ Lady Margaret retorted. ‘Well, shall we have a good gallop before the park becomes too crowded?’
‘Absolutely,’ Marcella replied, eager to indulge in one of the few favourite pursuits the time-consuming constraints of the Season had left her.
‘Let’s be off, then,’ Dellamont said. ‘Race you to the bend, Maggie.’
‘As long as you don’t sulk when I beat you!’ his sister retorted, spurring her mount.
Laughing, Marcella set her mare to follow them, enjoying the gallop but not trying to best them, content to observe the brother and sister’s friendly competition. Though the unhappiness of the childhood Dellamont had described saddened her, she was cheered to know that he at least maintained a warm relationship with his mother and sister.
She truly hoped his eventual wife would make up for those grim, unhappy years. Surely he could find a society beauty with the wit and liveliness of his sister who would also have as much appreciation for Dellamont’s fine qualities as for the status she would enjoy as a countess.
She chuckled as the siblings reached the finish point neck and neck. Lady Margaret turned her mount towards Marcella when she reached them a moment later, calling out ‘I won, didn’t I!’
‘Well, I don’t know. It was a very close thing.’
‘You’d better tell her she’s the victor, else she will sulk,’ Dellamont said, his eyes merry as he teased his sister.
‘I will not sulk. Besides, I don’t have to. You know I beat you, even if it salves your masculine pride to pretend you did. It’s only fair that you get beaten upon occasion, for gentlemen hold all the advantages, don’t they, Miss Cranmore? My mare is still fast, but Fancy Lady is getting older. I thought being in London would offer a good opportunity to choose another mare to replace her, but Crispin informs me that females are not allowed in Tattersall’s. I very much resent that I don’t get to choose my own horse, when silly fops with more money than horse sense can inspect the offerings at their leisure.’
‘You know your groom would do the evaluating, even if you were permitted to attend,’ Dellamont countered. ‘The prohibition on females at Tattersall’s is intended to protect them from the coarse language they would overhear from the grooms, trainers and stable hands assembled to tend the horses.’
‘And from the gentlemen looking to purchase those horses?’ his sister added tartly.
‘Them, too,’ Dellamont admitted with a laugh.
‘Are you allowed a say in the purchase of your mount, Miss Cranmore?’ Lady Margaret asked. ‘Your mare is very fine.’
‘Yes, she’s a delight. And yes, I was present when she was purchased. There are often horse fairs on market days in the country. All the local people, men, women and children, are free to attend.’
‘How lucky you are! As for the language at Tattersall’s, it’s not as if anyone who rides isn’t around the stables often enough to overhear salty language—inadvertently, of course,’ Lady Margaret added after a speaking glance from her brother. ‘It’s hardly likely that my “innocent ears” would be sullied.’
‘Perhaps you should listen less intently when you’re in the stables,’ her brother suggested.
Making a face at him, she said, ‘How I wish I could see all the horses on offer for myself.’ Her gaze turning mischievous, she continued, ‘Maybe I should visit your rooms and borrow a gentleman’s rig, so I might sneak into Tattersall’s unobserved.’
Dellamont cast his eyes skywards. ‘Heaven forfend! Promise me you won’t do anything of the sort, brat. Should anyone catch you out dressed as a boy, your reputation would be ruined before you’d even been presented.’
Lady Margaret sighed. ‘It’s all so ridiculous, what a female must do to preserve her reputation. If I weren’t so anxious to make an advantageous match next year so I can escape Montwell Glen, I’d be tempted to chance it. Though I will be sorry to abandon Mama after I’m wed. With me gone and you avoiding the place, she’ll have no one to protect her.’
Marcella’s heart ached not just for a girl so eager to leave her childhood home, she seemed willing to marry almost anyone with suitable wealth, but also for the mother both siblings evidently loved dearly. ‘Once you are married, as mistress of a household of your own, you shall be able to invite your mother for long visits.’
Brightening, Lady Margaret said, ‘Yes, I will, won’t I? I must marry someone with a town house in London, so I can have Mama stay with me for the Season every year. She would love that, wouldn’t she, Crispin? It would serve Papa right to rusticate in the country by himself. He’d have to find another object for his tantrums—hopefully not you!’
Pained again at this further indication of family discord, Marcella could think of nothing to say. Looking embarrassed by his sister’s frank disclosures, Dellamont said, ‘Enough about Montwell Glen. Shall we make a slow circuit of the park and cool down the horses?’
‘Please do, but I’ll need to leave you,’ Marcella said. ‘I want to stop at Hatchard’s this morning, and if I am to present myself on time for Lady Arlsley’s at-home this afternoon, I shall have to go there now.’
‘What are you seeking at Hatchard’s?’ Dellamont asked. ‘The latest novel?’
‘I do so love the Minerva Press novels,’ Lady Margaret said. ‘Such evil villains and dashing heroes! Do you have favourites, Miss Cranmore?’
‘At the risk of sounding very dull, I’ve never read any,’ Marcella admitted. ‘I stop by Hatchard’s periodically to check if there are new scientific reprints available. They generally carry them, when smaller bookshops don’t.’ Laughing at the expression of distaste crossing Lady Margaret’s face, she continued, ‘I’m afraid I prefer tomes about mathematics and botany by female authors to scandalous novels.’
Lady Margaret’s eyes widened in surprise. ‘Females have written about such things?’
�
��Not many,’ Marcella replied. ‘Women are rarely allowed to receive enough education to qualify them to write scholarly reports. Which is why the few who have are my heroines. Imagine, being able to pursue a vocation other than marriage! Few manage it now, but some day I hope that women will be able to follow their interests wherever they lead.’
‘A woman offered a choice other than marriage or penury? What an appealing notion!’ Lady Margaret said. ‘Though I’m not sure I’d want to delve into mathematics to secure the opportunity.’
Marcella laughed. ‘Continue to enjoy your novels and leave the mathematics to odd ducks like me.’
‘Maggie, will your groom’s escort home be sufficient? If Miss Cranmore doesn’t mind, I’d like to accompany her to Hatchard’s. I’d be curious to learn more about the authors she is seeking.’
‘I’m sure I could find my way back to Portman Square even without Jamison’s help,’ Lady Margaret said. Giving her brother and Marcella a coy glance, she said, ‘By all means, accompany Miss Cranmore to Hatchard’s—and discover what an educated female can achieve.’
Dellamont smiled. ‘So I shall, brat.’
‘Can you ride tomorrow, Crispin?’ his sister asked.
‘Probably not. There are some meetings about a proposed Parliamentary offering I want to attend.’
‘Very well. But I suspect it’s more to avoid being beaten by me again than a desire for information that prevents you,’ she said saucily. ‘I hope to see you, though, Miss Cranmore.’
‘Unless the weather is bad, I shall probably ride,’ Marcella confirmed.
‘Shall we head to Hatchard’s, Miss Cranmore?’ Dellamont asked.
‘With pleasure,’ she replied.
* * *
With Marcella’s groom riding behind them as chaperon, they parted with Lady Margaret and her escort and proceeded out of the park towards Piccadilly. ‘Did you see your engineer when you had tea with your father yesterday?’ Dellamont asked.
The Railway Countess Page 12
