XI #2
“Why, as to that, I cannot say,” was the reply.
“Yesterday ought to have been vastly fatiguing to one of my delicate constitution, you know. But the oddest thing is that I feel fresh as a nosegay this morning. Sir Henry suggested he might like to take a stroll along the Steyne, and I tell you, Nell, if I feel as well in an hour as I do now, I just might join him. And I didn’t even get my full night’s rest, mind you. ”
“Dear me. Were you out raking all night, too, Mama?”
Lady Agnes chuckled. “Nothing so energetic as that, my dear. But Sir Henry found himself without a feather to fly with, I’m afraid.”
“Without—Never say you were gaming ma’am, for I shouldn’t credit it!” Even Rory seemed to have come out of her brown study and was gazing curiously at her grandmother. “He never took you to a gaming house.”
“Of course not,” returned her ladyship with a twinkle. “We gambled right here. And I trounced him, as Kit would say.”
“Silver loo?”
“No, cribbage.”
“Cribbage for money, ma’am. I have never known you to do that before.”
“No, but you must admit, my dear, ’tis sadly flat to march one’s counters about for no purpose, when one might be profiting greatly by their activities.”
“Or taking an unhealthy loss, ma’am. It does not seem at all like you to risk your blunt on the gaming table.”
“But I nearly always win at cribbage,” her ladyship pointed out. “At least when I play with Sir Henry. So there is very little risk, you know. And we play for only shilling points, so I shall not lose the house or even one of the carriages if I am rolled up.”
“Rolled up? Mama, such language,” Nell teased.
Lady Agnes only smiled placidly, however, so she took her leave and went to change.
Less than fifteen minutes later she was ready.
Her riding habit of twilled cotton was not nearly so dashing as that of her niece, but its russet hues became her well, and Nell knew Rory’s look of admiration when she joined her in the entry hall was unfeigned.
The younger girl had donned gloves of soft kid and a dashing little hat with an ostrich plume, and, like Nell, carried her riding whip.
She explained that she had already ordered the horses brought ’round.
They were waiting, held steady by Nell’s own groom and a link boy. Nell looked at Rory. “I thought you said your groom would attend you.”
“Oh, he will meet us later,” was the casual response. “I daresay yours will serve us both for now. May we ride straight to the Downs?”
Wondering what she was up to now, Nell thought it prudent to keep a still tongue and merely nodded.
She let Peter help her into the saddle, gathered her reins, and waited patiently until he had performed the same services for her niece and had mounted himself.
Then she signaled him to fall behind, and they turned toward Edward Street.
It was easily half an hour’s ride before they had left the town behind them and were able to enjoy a canter on the Downs.
But the panoramic view back over Brighton to the sea was such that even Rory expressed her pleasure.
Nell breathed deeply of the crisp fresh air and gave her horse its head, letting it out for a full gallop, her skirts flying. Rory was not slow to follow her, and for some fifteen minutes they rode furiously. Then, reluctantly, Nell drew rein. Rory rode up directly behind her, breathing hard.
“Oh, Aunt Nell, I haven’t done that in such a long time. It felt wonderful!”
“Yes, it did, didn’t it?” Nell grinned. “One may do that sort of thing up here, but only when one is quite unobserved. The ladies of Brighton, and even some of the gentlemen, have a tendency to deplore such hoydenish behavior.”
“Oh, I know. Mama was forever pinching at me about riding like a Diana. It was all very well for hunting, she said, though we scarcely ever joined in a hunt. Papa does occasionally, but he says it is no place for young ladies, especially since I wasn’t even out and so couldn’t go to any house parties.
But Mama says in London one may never ride so, only sedately in Rotten Row at specified hours of the day.
I am so glad she sent me to Brighton instead, though I was furious with her at the time, of course. ”
“You wanted to go to London?”
“Well, of course I did. Doesn’t everyone?”
“I suppose. I went, you know. But I was rather shy and didn’t know many people, you see. I enjoyed the summer here, where I knew everyone, much more.”
“Did you know Huntley in London or here?”
“Both. He came here with the prince, but I had first made his acquaintance in London. We became excellent friends, for he was very kind to me.”
“Oh, he is kind enough, I expect, when one has not managed by some means or other to displease him.”
“Rory,” Nell said suddenly, “do you truly wish to marry him?”
“Well, of course I do. What a perfectly ridiculous question, when it is all settled. Why should I not wish to marry him?”
“More to the point,” Nell countered, looking directly at her, “I cannot conceive of a single reason why you should wish to do so. I know it is hardly my place to say anything, but I cannot help having noticed that you feel none of the tenderer feelings toward him. I expect he cares for you, of course, but—”
“Not a rap,” Rory declared. “I told you that before.”
“Then, how can you wish to spend the rest of your life with him?”
Rory looked a trifle daunted by Nell’s particular phrasing, but her chin came up, and she soon had herself well in hand. “It is truly a wonderful opportunity for me, Aunt Nell. Surely, you would be the first to wish me a splendid marriage.”
“There can be no doubt of that, my dear. But I would wish you to marry someone you could care deeply for.”
“Love, you mean,” Rory said with a laugh.
“Goodness, Aunt Nell, I never expected you to be a romantic. Mama says that’s all very well and good in books, mostly rubbishy books.
But she says a girl has to think ahead past smiles and soft words to proper gowns and sufficient servants to make one comfortable, and elegant carriages with well-bred horses to drive behind, and …
well, all that sort of thing. I expect you have never clapped eyes on Huntley Green.
I have not either, but my papa assures me that it is a seat worthy of an earl and his countess.
And I shall very much enjoy being a countess, Aunt Nell. ”
“But Huntley means to spend most of his time in Kent, my dear. You have always talked as if you yearn for a gayer life than that.”
“Oh, I do, and Mama says I needn’t bother my head about it, that Huntley will do as I wish him to do.
Moreover, if he should not wish to accompany me to London, I shall simply go by myself.
Mama says a good many married ladies do just that and that they have a cicisbeo or two to take them ’round if their husbands cannot do so.
I think it sounds like good fun, so I daresay I should prefer it if Huntley did remain in Kent. ”
Thus outlined, the prospect made Nell shudder, and it occurred to her, not for the first time, that Rory’s mama had talked a great deal of nonsense.
The more she thought about it, the less she liked the idea of the forthcoming marriage.
Rory deserved to find that life had more to offer than fine carriages and worldly titles, and Huntley certainly deserved more than a wife who wanted only his money and position.
For the next twenty minutes or so they rode together in near silence, while Nell searched her mind for some means by which her niece could be brought to value his lordship as she knew he ought to be valued.
When a rider suddenly appeared from a small grove of trees and seemed to be hurrying straight toward them, wrenching Nell from her thoughts, she was conscious of a wish that she had a pistol by her or that she had commanded Peter to carry one.
However, one look at her niece’s smiling countenance caused her to relax once more.
“Is that your groom, Rory?”
“Yes. I expect he finished his errand sooner than he expected,” she replied glibly.
“Indeed.” Nell managed to keep her tongue before more words tripped off it.
She had no doubt that the groom had been sent to carry a message from his mistress, but there would be time enough to make her opinion of such behavior known if the message had been answered.
Whatever answer there was was gleaned from only the groom’s brief nod, but Rory seemed well enough pleased by it.
Nell decided to test the matter by suggesting that perhaps it was time to begin their return journey. The suggestion was dismissed abruptly.
“Oh, no, ma’am. Why, ’tis such a splendid day. I should like to try another trail. What do you say to that one yonder?”
Nell agreed without comment but began keeping a weather eye peeled for the major, thinking he would no doubt soon join them.
She was not disappointed. Less than a quarter hour later a splendid bay galloped over the small rise ahead of them, and its rider could be easily recognized as the tall Hussar officer.
Rory, waving madly, nearly stood up in her stirrups, thus causing her mare to sidle nervously.
“Rory, for heaven’s sake, what are you about?” Nell demanded, feigning astonishment.
“It is merely Major Talcott, Aunt Nell, and he has seen us, too, for he is riding directly toward us.”
“How fortuitous,” Nell said, her tone dry to the point of being sardonic.