Daughter of Trade

by Lesley-Anne McLeod

  Dinah stared in amaze at this obvious flattery and found herself immediately de trop. The viscount had risen yet again, and was standing near to her.

  "My friend is ever susceptible to golden curls and blue eyes," he said in an undertone. His tone was light and apologetic.

  "My friend is shy and unused to tonnish gentlemen and empty flattery," she retorted with hasty sharpness. Then she bit her lip. "I beg your pardon my lord. That was ill-said of me."

  "You are very honest. I think you are only sorry that you spoke those words aloud." The viscount rubbed his brow again. "My friend is harmless, I assure you, Miss Driffield."

  They were interrupted by Hamilton, who had wandered over after determining that all the cakes had vanished from their plate. "I do not suppose you are much for sport, my lord, other than shooting?"

  Dinah welcomed the interruption. Despite her discomfiture at her exchanges with the viscount, she smothered a smile at her youngest brother's question. He made no secret of the disdain he apparently felt for the viscount's fine tailoring and slender build.

  Lord Holly's long fingers again smoothed his brow. But he answered readily enough, "I strive for a balance of sport and scholarship and business in my life. I fence and box, and I greatly enjoy playing a game of cricket."

  "Cricket, my lord?" Hamilton's manner changed with laughable rapidity. "I say, that is of all things my favourite activity. I suppose you have been to Mr. Lord's new ground in London?"

  "I have seen it certainly; we have yet to play a match there however." The viscount seemed uneasy speaking with the youngster, but answered him with grave courtesy.

  "And do you have the acquaintance of Mr. E. H. Budd?"

  "Yes, I have that honour."

  "And Mr. George Osbaldeston?"

  "Yes."

  "Then you must be a right one." Hamilton seemed to have come to some sort of decision. "What do you think of a left-handed batter, sir?"

  Lord Holly cast a rather bewildered and, Dinah thought, harassed glance at her. She offered him no rescue however, and he was plunged into a serious conversation about cricket.

  She regretted, one half of an hour later, that she had abandoned the viscount to Hamilton's mercies. He appeared to be enjoying himself, but she was not.

  She had seated herself beside Juliana to help her friend cope with Mr. Matherton's practiced gallantries, despite that Juliana had no apparent need of her assistance. Matherton was an amusing visitor, and Juliana was quite obviously enjoying being the object of his flattery. Dinah, aware of her elder brother John's fondness for Miss Hesler, was attempting to divert Matherton's compliments. Her mother and grandmother were occupied with Harriet and Adelaide, and Geoffrey had gone. She looked across the saloon to the viscount and unconsciously appealed, with her gaze, for his help.

  He disengaged himself from Hamilton and crossed the room with grace.

  "Burlie, we must be off. We have indeed trespassed upon Mrs. Driffield's hospitality too long. Perhaps we may call again?" He turned to the elder Mrs. Driffield and bowed slightly.

  The younger Mrs. Driffield responded. "We are fixed here for at least another two weeks, my lord. Perhaps you will join us for dinner some evening when my husband and my elder sons arrive." Her mother-in-law reinforced the invitation.

  "You are both very kind. We should be delighted. We lodge at the Old Swan, ma'am. A note directed there will undoubtedly find us." The gentlemen bowed themselves out.

  Their voices could be heard in the entry hall as they received their hats and walking sticks from the maid. "What about the grouse shooting, Holly?" Matherton's question penetrated to the parlour.

  * * * *

  "Lord Holly may be seen everywhere in Harrowgate," Harriet announced, the next day but one. The Driffields stood before St. John's Church, High Harrowgate, chatting with various of their acquaintance. The old church, too small for its newly fashionable town, nevertheless loomed over them all. The ladies all carried parasols against the midday sun, but the close air threatened a storm later.

  "Juliana says she and her mama met with him and Mr. Matherton in the Promenade Room yesterday," Adelaide said. "And she says they are to attend at the Ball at the Granby on this evening. Lord Holly asked if they should meet us there."

  Dinah, who was speaking with Mr. Humberstone and his invalidish mother, with an effort schooled her face to indifference.

  "I encountered Lord Holly in Duchy Road. He was mounted on a devilish fine grey," Mr. Humberstone said. "Demmed frippery fellow. I had thought he must have left this town before now." His opinion of Lord Holly seemed to deteriorate the longer the viscount remained in Harrowgate.

  With a speaking look at Dinah, Adelaide engaged Mrs. Humberstone in conversation. She, as always, called her son to her attention.

  Mrs. Driffield took the opportunity to step next to Dinah. "The children and I met with Lord Holly, Dinah, yesterday at the haberdasher's in Paradise Row. He seems a very nice young man. He was searching out a hair brush."

  Dinah summoned a curl of lip. "I am surprised he has not got a valet for such tasks; he is the veriest coxcomb," she said. "I cannot think why the Heslers are so taken up with him, and with Mr. Matherton."

  Mrs. Driffield would not criticize her friend. "Mrs. Hesler may make her own decisions. Your disdain does not become you, my dear, and it is not like you to be so harsh. We must judge each individual on his merits, whether high-born or low. Mr. Matherton has not my undivided approbation but I think that Lord Holly has. He seems to find our family something of a novelty, Dinah, and if he is from a typically cold aristocratic family, I can only be glad to show him true family life."

  Dinah tucked her hand in the crook of her mother's arm. "I must be harsh, Mama. They are fribbles. That is my opinion. Say you will not invite them to dinner. They'll have nothing to say to anyone, but condescend to us all and spoil the whole evening."

  "I shall ask your papa," Mrs. Driffield said. "Your grandmama has quite taken to Lord Holly. She thinks he is lonely."

  Dinah permitted herself an unladylike snort. "I think men of his sort are never lonely. Mama, you know John will be anticipating a cose with Juliana when next he is here, and we have Papa and John with us so little in the summer. Let us not invite strangers."

  "You must recognize that I know what I am about, my love. If Juliana can be so easily distracted by Matherton, John should know of it. And you shall soon be at home and see Papa and the boys all the time. Shall we attend the assembly this evening?"

  "I think I shall not, Mama. Does Adelaide wish it? Or Grandmama?"

  "I think not. Perhaps we shall remain at home; there is a threat of storm in the air." She stared at her daughter consideringly. "It's not like you to be in a worry, Dinah. What's to do?"

  She sighed. "I don't know, Mama. I just feel so--unsettled--around Holly and Matherton. They annoy me."

  "Perhaps you are only unsettled around the viscount. He is a very handsome young man. You'd be different indeed from your sex, did you not find him...appealing?"

  Dinah found the idea too possible to be comfortable, and all too likely. She did experience a flicker of awareness across her skin when in the viscount's company. Surely one could not experience such feelings without one's own permission?

  Her mother patted her hand, and with her usual uncanny accuracy, read Dinah's thoughts. "We don't decide, Dinah, with our heads, where we will be attracted. Our hearts lead us there."

  Smiling, Mrs. Driffield moved to join Adelaide in speaking with Mrs. Humberstone.

  Confused and concerned, Dinah stared after her mother, regretting the assembly that had brought Lord Holly and his friend into their midst.

  Mr. Humberstone, with an elaborate clearing of throat, recalled her to the present. "A great annoyance, is it not Miss Driffield, to have these fashionable fellows plaguing us? Mama is quite put out that they bring their London manners and morals amongst us."

  She stared at him uncomprehendingly for a moment, and then coloured wonderi
ng how much of her conversation with her mother he had overheard. "Mrs. Humberstone need have no concerns; she is unlikely to encounter them," she said. Her statement was a trifle plain as she considered what the stout young man might have perceived.

  He nodded ponderously. "She has confided that she is even grateful for her delicate constitution which prevents her from going about in society and having to associate with such men. And you know she usually regrets that she cannot attend at the quiet entertainments we enjoy."

  Dinah took umbrage at being included in Mr. Humberstone's statement of implied intimacy. She was quite certain, and had been for several years, that Mrs. Humberstone's 'delicate constitution' was in fact made of iron, and that the illusion of delicacy was carefully nurtured to keep her only son at her beck and call. She was equally aware of Mrs. Humberstone's intention that Dinah should be her daughter-in-law and of Bernard Humberstone's wish to make his mama's desire reality.

  With those facts in her mind, she said, "I could wish for more gaiety and activity. Harrowgate seems a little flat this year." She followed her statement with a quick "Good day" of cool civility, and withdrew from Humberstone's company. The big man seemed to be rendered speechless by her opinions, but she was uncomfortably aware of his small eyes' gaze following her as she joined her mother and sister and set off down Paradise Row.

  * * *

  CHAPTER TWO

  "I saw Lord Holly in the Lane, yesterday," Adelaide confided to her elder sister as they watched the children run ahead of them free of restraint. "He bowed most civilly and asked how we went on."

  Dinah reluctantly withdrew her attention from the flower-strewn beauty of the Bog's Field bordering Lower Harrowgate. All the world was damp, for the storm that had threatened the previous day had broken at midnight with rolling thunder, brilliant lightning and torrents of rain.

  Kept awake by the tumult, Dinah had spent much of the time in fruitless speculation about the viscount. She had struggled with his lively charm since his visit to her grandmother's home, but had had little success in banishing his image and his appeal from her mind. She had anticipated this walk, hoping to dismiss Lord Holly from her mind, and here was her own sister recalling him to her attention.

  Now she forced out a tart comment to conceal her wayward thoughts. "Humph! I cannot think that he truly cares how we go on. We are so socially inferior to his sort that we are next to invisible. I think at least I have dissuaded Mama from inviting him to join us for dinner."

  Her gentle sister stooped to pick a raindrop-sparkled cornflower from the long tufted grass at her feet. "No, have you?" she said. "Well I think that is a pity, for he seemed well informed and conversable. And rather taken up with you..."

  Dinah stopped walking and stared her sister with concern evident in her brown eyes. "I had rather converse with a Luddite. At least he is likely to be an honest working man. Lord Holly and his friend are of that class of idle rich men that I most abhor. He is emblematic of all that is worst in Britain's society. Young gentlemen of his class have too little employment and too much money; they wander from watering place, to hunting lodge, to house party to seaside resort." She would not mention to Adelaide the fact that they frequented the most debauched haunts of London--its gambling dens and brothels. It occurred to her that she could not visualize Lord Holly in such places. "I doubt that he is 'taken' with me. And despite that he is charming and handsome he cannot command my respect. You should know that."

  "I do know it. But I think it rather unfortunate, for he seems a kind gentleman."

  They walked on in silence, picking their way carefully among the wet hillocks of grass in the boggy field. Many of Harrowgate's mineral springs rose in Bog's Field, making it perilous walking, but the children enjoyed jumping from tuft to clump, endangering their boots and daring each other to great leaps. The sun combined with the humid atmosphere of the bog to form a rising heat. Dinah had removed her bonnet and was allowing it to dangle by its ribands from her fingers.

  "Perhaps your sentiments will change upon further acquaintance?" Adelaide ventured.

  "They will not!" Even to her own ears, Dinah sounded overly vehement. "And I doubt he would wish for extended conversance."

  "You may be mistaken." Adelaide shaded her eyes with a slim hand as she stared across the field. "I think that may be Lord Holly coming from Crescent Road even now. I do believe he has seen our progress and is turning his horse's head."

  Dinah followed the direction of her sister's nod, and watched a fine grey horse mince across the field avoiding marshy patches and bridling at imagined dangers. Holly effortlessly guided and encouraged his mount across the bog; they were a picture of fine conformation and excellent riding.

  "Oh no," she muttered even as her traitorous senses tingled at the sight of Lord Holly's slim figure and handsome face.

  The viscount's expression was eager and anticipatory as he neared. He lifted an elegantly gloved hand in greeting as he reined in before them. Geoffrey and Hamilton, who had ranged far ahead of their sisters' dawdling pace, came tearing back. Harriet, who was gathering wildflowers, made a more careful return to the party.

  "What a prime bit of blood, sir," Geoffrey exclaimed before anyone else had opportunity to speak.

  The viscount dismounted with enviable grace, and bowed to the ladies. "Good afternoon." His greeting encompassed them all, but seemed directed to Dinah.

  She thought he appeared uncomfortable to greet her siblings and she wondered at it. She was certain he turned with reluctance to respond to Geoffrey.

  "He is indeed fine, is he not? I found him at the livery in York Road. 'Tis rare to find such a fine hack standing for hire."

  The boys paused to study the beast's conformation, and Geoffrey directed his small brother's attention to the horse's excellent proportions. Harriet ventured to pat its soft whickering nose.

  "I should like to try his paces," Geoffrey murmured.

  "I think I should not..." The viscount appeared startled and worried.

  "Oh not in the bog. You should not have brought him in, sir. Treacherous footing, don't you know..."

  "Geoffrey, I'm certain the viscount can recognize that." Dinah had uncharacteristically snapped at her brother. "And you shall not ride the horse."

  "Perhaps if we walked to the road we might consider it?" The viscount seemed as surprised by his words as Dinah was. "If you will allow me to join your expedition?"

  "Of course, my lord," Adelaide responded, apparently sensing Dinah's unwillingness to reply. "Geoffrey is a fine rider. Papa says he has the finest seat of any of the boys."

  The viscount seemed uncertain. "He does seem to know horses."

  Geoffrey had replaced Harriet at the grey's nose, and was whispering to the animal who appeared to be listening attentively.

  "He is devoted to horses, Lord Holly, despite we are town dwellers without landed estate." Dinah's words were delivered with something of a snap.

  "Well, I suppose..." The viscount appeared to be deliberating. When they came out of the field, to the first gravel of the road, he came to a decision--abruptly it appeared--and turned to Geoffrey. "Oh here, let me give you a leg up."

  The lad crowed with delight as Lord Holly aided his mount.

  "He is a well-mannered beast," Holly said to the young ladies. They watched Geoffrey walk the grey off, with Hamilton keeping pace at his stirrup.

  "So too is the horse," Harriet said, with an hilarious giggle.

  The viscount was surprised into laughter.

  Dinah frowned at her younger sister. "Don't be pert." She surprised herself with the admonition, for it was just the sort of jest she ordinarily enjoyed.

  Harriet subsided with a puzzled and resentful look.

  "The horse is excellent. And I think we need have no fears about your brother." The viscount seemed reassured that Geoffrey could handle the horse and apparently wished to avoid sibling conflict.

  "It is kind of you, my lord," Adelaide offered when it appeared that Dinah
had nothing more to say.

  "I had forgot that all boys love horses, no matter their age." Holly said.

  "Our brother Joseph does not," Dinah said. The roadway, exposed to the August sun, was shimmering with heat and with reluctance she tied on her bonnet once more. "He had much rather spend time with a prime bit of machinery, than an animal more useful for work than idle pleasure."

  Adelaide gave her sister a shocked look at her rudeness. "It is true that Joseph enjoys a machine, but he also enjoys tooling his carriage."

  Dinah's colour deepened with awareness of her incivility. She was not by nature so graceless and daunting. Indeed she was known for her high spirits and love of laughter. It was the viscount who had caused such an alteration in her temper. Her awareness of him seemed a tangible thing. She could only hope she gave no overt sign of it. She could think of nothing to say.

  "I believe I see poppies, Adelaide!" Harriet pointed to a spot off the road and headed toward it. "Do come along."

  Adelaide cast an uncertain look at her elder sister and Dinah responded with a beseeching one of her own. Then Adelaide gave a small shrug, and followed Harriet.

  Dinah swallowed, hard. She would, of all things, have had her sisters stay with the viscount and herself. Holly paced beside her, adjusting the length of his stride to hers, holding his hat and occasionally raking long fingers through his auburn curls.

  "Do you ride, Miss Driffield?" He seemed unmoved and even relieved by her sisters' departure. Apparently he had been unaffected by Dinah's lack of courtesy.

  She collected herself with an effort. "I do not, nor do my sisters. We have little need of mounts in Leeds. Most things are within walking distance, and we have our carriage when we require to go farther."

  "But the pleasure that a fine horse can give..." he murmured. He offered his arm as Dinah stumbled on a stone.

  She could not, without giving offense, refuse to take it. That she was loath to accept his support had nothing to do with dislike of him and much to do with liking him too well. She was far too aware of the muscle and bone beneath her gloved fingers and his superfine sleeve.