Chapter Ten #2
‘Walking isn’t a problem, and it has stopped raining.’ Farrah glanced up at a now clear sky and the fluffy white clouds being driven across it by a fresh breeze. ‘Thank you for taking the time to introduce me to my aunt, your grace,’ she said, suddenly shy and unable to look directly at him.
‘Reuben,’ he said softly.
‘I cannot possibly address you so informally.’
He chuckled, but remained silent on the point, probably aware that Farrah could and very likely would, at least when they were assured of privacy – if that situation were ever to arise again. Perhaps he had already had enough of her, and the novelty of her outspokenness had started to wear off.
‘If nothing else, at least I am now aware that I have one relative who is willing to spare me the time of day.’ Farrah elevated her chin, strengthened by a fresh resolve.
‘I will continue to see Lady Bartholomew when she is out of mourning, regardless of Mama’s feelings on the subject; that much I already know. ’
If the duke considered her rebelliousness to be misplaced, he made no comment. Instead, he drew his team to a halt just shy of the village, jumped down from the box seat and then held out a hand to help her down too.
‘If you take that path,’ he said, pointing, ‘it will bring you out close to your house.’
‘Yes, I know it will. I have often used it in the past.’
He continued to hold her gloved hand, then raised it to his lips and kissed the back of it. ‘I have enjoyed your company very much,’ he said softly.
‘Have you?’ Farrah reclaimed her hand, unable to keep the astonishment from her voice.
‘You have gone to a vast amount of trouble on my behalf, and my attitude has bordered on the uncivil. I apologise for that. It was not my intention to be deliberately rude, but then you did keep it from me that Papa and my uncle were close friends, so you deserved a trimming.’
‘It was not my secret to impart,’ he replied easily.
‘If Lady Bartholomew had not raised the matter herself then I would have remained quiet on the point. It is really nothing to do with me. However, knowing the lady’s character, it did not surprise me that she volunteered the information.
’ He cocked his head to one side when the sound of another approaching vehicle reached them. ‘I really must let you go.’
‘Ashamed to be seen with me?’ she asked playfully.
‘Not a bit of it! I am simply thinking of your reputation.’
‘Oh, that!’ Farrah flapped a hand. ‘It is probably already beyond recall.’
‘That I very much doubt. However, time is getting on, and you have to get ready.’
She blinked up at him. ‘Ready for what?’
The duke laughed and shook his head. ‘It has clearly slipped your mind that you are engaged to dine with us at Alton Hall this evening.’
‘Oh, good heavens, it has indeed!’ She clapped a hand over her mouth to prevent a laugh from escaping. ‘But not to worry, it won’t take me long to make myself as respectable as I can ever hope to be. Besides, it is not me whom you are expected to admire.’
‘You do not have a monopoly on pleasing yourself, and I will not be told whom to bestow my attentions upon.’
Farrah suppressed a giggle. ‘Poor Sophia. And she tries so very hard.’
‘Be off with you, minx!’
Farrah dipped the suggestion of a curtsey and walked towards the path that the duke had suggested, lifting her skirts to avoid the worst of the mud.
She was conscious of him standing where she had left him and watching her go.
She realised she was displaying her ankles, and imagined Sophia doing the same, then turning to the duke and fluttering her eyelashes.
She laughed at the idea, but didn’t turn back, nor did she feel the need to make any further parting comments.
She walked swiftly, free to let her thoughts dwell upon the interlude with her aunt.
It had been difficult to concentrate during the carriage ride, since the close proximity of such an arresting gentleman ? a duke no less ? had been highly distracting.
More so than she would have considered possible, given her total lack of interest in the opposite sex.
She had not met a single man during the entire course of her season who had set her heart racing and her pulse dancing with anticipation.
The duke, devil take it, had been able to engender those sensations without putting the least effort into it.
Which was most inconsiderate of him!
It was ironic too, she thought with amusement, that the only man capable of awakening her senses was so high born and so sought after that he could take his pick from the dozens of young ladies who doubtless pursued him at every turn.
He appeared to enjoy her company – perhaps because she wasn’t attempting to impress him and he felt safe being alone with her.
He at least was able to keep his mind on the business at hand and had only taken Farrah to her aunt’s home because he knew she would not read anything into his attentions other than a desire to keep control of any discontent that might otherwise arise in his district.
One lot of rebellious tenants was all it would take for unlawful behaviour to spread like wildfire, she suspected.
Her aunt was one of the most gracious people it had ever been Farrah’s pleasure to encounter.
Her character was so dissimilar to Mama’s that it was hard to think of them as being related.
But there again, the same could be said for her and Sophia, she conceded as she skipped over a puddle, but for the fact that Sophia was the beauty.
Mama was very much second best in that regard when compared to her sister; it was obvious even all these years on.
Lady Bartholomew had a kindly disposition too, a trait that had most definitely passed Mama by.
She had not been entirely honest when she’d told the duke that she didn’t intend to look for Papa.
She was deeply concerned for his welfare and would at least attempt to discover his whereabouts.
But her options were severely limited. It wasn’t as if she could take herself off to Liverpool and ask all and sundry if they had happened to see him.
Someone on the estate must know where he had gone though, most likely Freeman.
With that in mind, she would definitely interfere with estate business, pushing aside Freeman’s objections as she studied the books and looked for ways to ensure a good harvest for the coming season.
She would also find a way to gain access to Papa’s private papers and see if they offered up any clues.
Thus resolved, she entered the house through the kitchen, where she encountered the very person whom she had most hoped to avoid.
‘Where on earth have you been all this time?’ her mother demanded, tapping her foot impatiently. ‘We have to leave for Alton Hall in less than an hour and you are not fit to be seen.’
Farrah didn’t bother to respond since she couldn’t tell her mother the truth and was disinclined to lie. Not that it mattered. Her mother never listened to anything she had to say anyway and was perfectly capable of conducting both sides of a conversation without any input from Farrah.
‘Does Papa have business interests in Liverpool?’ she asked.
‘Liverpool!’ Mama screeched the word, making it sound as though Farrah had enquired about Outer Mongolia. ‘How on earth should I know?’
‘No reason. Excuse me, Mama,’ Farrah said, preventing her mother from continuing to scold her by turning for the door. ‘I had best get changed.’
She reached the upper floor and a scene of total chaos.
Their poor maid was run ragged because Sophia kept changing her mind about what to wear and was now making a huge fuss about how her hair should be styled.
The maid didn’t have time to help Farrah as well as their mother, so Farrah happily took care of her own toilette.
She washed in cold water, then stepped into clean petticoats followed by her copper silk gown with the golden thread that matched her colouring so well.
She combed her hair and pinned it into a simple style, leaving long strands to dance on her shoulders.
Pulling on her gloves, she examined her appearance and decided that she would do.
In the event, as Farrah had known would be the case, she was the first to go down. She was waiting in the vestibule for the carriage to be brought round when her mother and sister eventually joined her, having kept their coachman’s team waiting for a good ten minutes.
‘You look absolutely delightful, my dear,’ Mama said, beaming at Sophia when they were all finally installed in the carriage. ‘The duke will not be able to resist you.’
Farrah privately thought that Sophia’s pink gown was far too fussy.
She should have taken heed of their mother’s advice and stuck with the cream.
She was several inches shorter than Farrah, and all the frills and flounces disguised her trim figure, putting Farrah in mind of a round, half-ripe strawberry.
The gown was Sophia’s second best, and the cost of having it made had placed more strain on the Dalton coffers.
Papa’s weak protests had not prevented Mama from commissioning the garment.
‘Farrah, do everything you can to promote your sister’s interests tonight, and do not monopolise the duke as you did before.’
‘What am I to do if he addresses me, Mama?’ she asked innocently. ‘Refer him to Sophia instead?’
‘Don’t be so impertinent. Anyway, I don’t suppose he will notice you again since he only singled you out to discuss your father’s whereabouts, which is not a subject that can be raised over dinner.
Anyway, sit up straight, my dear,’ Mama said, transferring her attention to the favoured daughter and adjusting one of Sophia’s curls. ‘We shall soon be there.’
Chapter Ten