Chapter Sixteen #2
‘I had no intention of questioning your intellect,’ he replied, placing his hands on her shoulders and drilling her with a look.
‘Even so.’
She moved away from him, forcing him to drop his hands.
Farrah seemed to enjoy their verbal sparring but became tongue-tied at the first signs of his concern for her wellbeing.
He suspected that no one had ever shown her such concern before ? certainly not her mother ? and so was too inexperienced to know how to respond.
Or even if she should. Reuben inwardly chuckled.
She was the first lady he had encountered who had not jumped on the opportunity to encourage even the smallest signs of his personal interest in her.
‘I must return home before I am missed,’ she said briskly, no doubt concerned that her mother and sister would actually have noticed her absence.
Just as well, Reuben thought. Lady Dalton had thus far shown a marked lack of interest in her husband’s whereabouts, using his disappearance only as an excuse to bring the favoured daughter to Reuben’s notice.
She pretended not to be aware of her family’s precarious financial position and carried on as though no one would notice the dilapidated condition of the family’s estate.
The moment she became aware that Reuben was concerning himself about her errant husband’s activities to the extent that he had joined forces with her elder daughter, she would undoubtedly take an avid interest once again and inflict herself upon their discussions.
The mere possibility caused Reuben to shudder.
‘Thank you for everything you have done,’ Farrah said in a formal tone, bending to ruffle Percival’s ears.
Reuben chuckled. ‘It is my absolute pleasure,’ he said, fixing her with a probing look that made her blush.
Farrah turned towards home and didn’t once look back, her cheeks still burning with embarrassment at her immature responses to Reuben’s obvious concern for her safety.
She sensed him remaining where he was, watching her go, and would have given a great deal to know what thoughts occupied his mind.
The manner in which he had looked at her so provocatively had immediately challenged her determination to treat him as nothing more than a means to an end.
What could he have meant by that look? she asked herself. And why was he going to so much trouble on her behalf?
‘Oh, for goodness sake!’
Really, she told herself, this would not do!
Sophia was the one who harboured silly romantic notions, and Farrah was far too sensible to indulge in such unrealistic daydreams. Nor was she willing to be trifled with by a handsome duke who felt the need to amuse himself at her expense.
She closed her eyes for an expressive moment and sighed.
It was all very well telling herself that she was far too sensible to be influenced by the wretched man, but when the dark weight of a scorching gaze that felt as though it could see directly into her soul came to rest on her features … well, that was another matter entirely.
Something deep inside her had reacted to his provocation ? a reaction over which she had absolutely no control.
It was infuriating, and yet … and yet each time she dwelt upon the situation, rational thought disintegrated into pure sensation that totally consumed her.
Her senses rebelled momentarily against the injustice of being the only responsible member of her family and she briefly permitted herself to dream about what could never be.
Farrah pulled her cloak more closely about her body and tugged the hood over her head when it started to rain yet again.
She increased her pace, pondering upon the extraordinary power of animal attraction.
It explained the draw she felt towards the duke, which had nothing to do with his willingness to help locate her errant father.
She felt anew the magnetism that she held responsible for the turbulent nature of her emotions and was powerless to overcome its compelling allure.
She couldn’t think with her usual clarity when she was anywhere near the wretched man.
And when she was not, she couldn’t seem to stop thinking about him.
She had already decided against wedlock, and her interaction with the duke had reinforced her decision to remain unmarried, the sole guardian of her independence.
If she could not have that elusive something that sprang up between her and Reuben, even if it was only obvious to her, then she would prefer to carve her own path, no matter how unfashionable that choice might be.
And no matter how much disappointment it caused her mother.
Farrah had received three eligible proposals during her season and had declined them all, much to her mother’s dismay.
Farrah held firm, even when Papa had weighed in, attempting to persuade her.
His endless remarks about the benefits of financial security made a lot more sense now, but she could not be swayed at the time and did not regret that decision now, in spite of everything.
She didn’t care if most marriages amongst the upper classes were purely contracts of convenience, benefiting both sides.
She would not marry until she fell violently in love and was convinced that she could only admire a man who was her intellectual equal.
Perversely, the duke was the only man of her acquaintance who matched both criteria.
It was unfortunate then that her growing feelings for her aristocratic neighbour couldn’t possibly be reciprocated.
Why not? she asked herself.
She was his social equal and he appeared to enjoy her society.
Be that as it may, she was absolutely sure there was nothing more to their friendship on his side than …
well, pleasure in her admittedly unorthodox company and a desire to help her locate her father before he could bring trouble to this part of the world.
Reuben was clearly an accomplished flirt and had exercised that skill during their solitary meetings, but that would mean nothing to him and she would be advised to treat such interludes with the same casual indifference as him.
Briefly out of charity with the man for toying with her affections, Farrah reminded herself that he had deliberately put himself alone ? some might say in a compromising position ? with her. He had risked his all to be of service to her and all she could do was wallow in self-pity.
‘Enough!’ she cried aloud, increasing her pace as her boots squelched through the mud.
She forced herself to consider the possibility that Papa had run away from his responsibilities and taken up with a wealthy widow instead.
She shook her head, attempting to dislodge a possibility that stubbornly refused to budge.
Papa had always been popular with the ladies, and Farrah had no doubt that he’d had a series of mistresses over the years.
Given Mama’s cold attitude towards him, her constant stream of complaints which Farrah now knew were founded in disappointment, she couldn’t entirely blame him for seeking solace elsewhere.
Taking a mistress was one thing ? a common enough occurrence among the aristocracy ? but abandoning his family and responsibilities for a woman was entirely another.
‘He wouldn’t do it,’ she said aloud, attempting to convince herself.
Farrah did not have a great deal of respect for her father, but she refused to think that he could behave so dishonourably.
Even so, she needed to know if he was capable of such base behaviour.
The duke had absolutely no authority over her and couldn’t order her not to ask questions of Mrs Armstrong.
If she was romantically entangled with Papa, the woman had absolutely no reason to suppose that Farrah had any suspicions in that regard, which would give her the upper hand.
She would know if those suspicions were founded, she told herself, if only through the lady’s conduct.
Thus resolved, Farrah decided that she would definitely orchestrate a conversation with the lady when they met at the duchess’s tea party.
Freeman remained astride his horse beneath the shelter of a stand of trees, rain dripping down his collar, as he awaited Lady Farrah’s return.
‘Where the devil can she have got to?’ he asked aloud.
Since he was alone, there was no possibility of his receiving an answer, but the sound of his own voice helped to ease his concern.
The wretched woman had no business in this part of the estate, and Freeman would dearly love to know what had drawn her to it.
She had no business poking her pert little nose into the estate books either, come to that.
Fortunately, there wasn’t the least possibility of her understanding them or questioning him about any anomalies therein.
She was simply worried about her damned father and wanted to feel useful in the search for him, Freeman reckoned.
Lady Sophia’s season ought to have kept the family safely out of the way in London for at least another month, yet they had turned up unannounced.
Worse still, Lady Farrah had taken it upon herself to try and discover the reason for the downturn in the estate’s fortunes.
Lady Dalton wouldn’t even have noticed, Freeman knew, at least until the local tradesmen declined to extend her further credit.
But that was beside the point. He’d sent an urgent message to Dalton, informing him of the ladies’ arrival, but had received not a word in response.
How the devil was he supposed to carry on with an interfering female looking over his shoulder at every turn?
‘Come on!’ he muttered, turning up his collar.
It made no difference, since the rain still found its way down his neck, further souring an already black mood as he dwelt upon the inconvenience of young women who were too inquisitive for their own good.
His horse shuffled restlessly beneath him, as wet as he was and impatient for the warmth of his stable.
She had to come back this way, Freeman reasoned, since the only other path led in entirely the wrong direction.
What the devil could be keeping her? Perhaps she had taken shelter from the rain, but then it had only recently started.
If she hadn’t come to this part of the estate for a specific purpose, there was nothing to keep her here for so long, and she should have returned home long since.
Why he insisted upon waiting was perhaps a better question for Freeman to ponder upon. She could go where she liked on the estate. There was nothing untoward to attract her attention here or anywhere else. Not at the moment anyway. So what the devil had compelled her to walk in this direction?
His horse swivelled on his quarters and seemed about to take the matter of returning home upon itself.
Freeman had only just settled him when he heard the sound of footfalls and a female talking to herself.
He backed his horse further into the trees, although he need not have troubled himself.
Lady Farrah seemed intent upon reaching home before she was drenched to the skin and didn’t so much as glance in his direction.
Freeman waited until she had disappeared from view and was about to let his horse have his way when he heard the sound of another beast being ridden at speed.
Ah, an assignation, Freeman thought, chuckling.
That made sense and also proved to him that Lady Farrah was not quite as high in the instep as she would have the world believe.
Curious to see whom she had been meeting, Freeman almost toppled from his saddle when he recognised the duke’s stallion.
‘I’ll be damned,’ he said, pushing his hat back and scratching his head.
Just about every eligible female in the county and beyond had used all the stratagems known to the fairer sex in an effort to get the duke alone. Lady Farrah had succeeded in that endeavour within a couple of days of returning to Hampshire. What was her secret? Why would she risk her reputation?
The answer to the first question was obvious to Freeman. Lady Farrah was a prime piece. Everyone gushed over her sister, but the elder sibling was more elegant, more compelling, more every damned thing.
‘Ye gods!’
Freeman’s hands froze on the reins when an alternative explanation occurred to him. Lady Farrah was not engaged in a romantic entanglement but had enlisted the duke’s assistance in the search for her father.
‘Damn it to hell and back!’ he yelled.
The interference of such a powerful figure changed everything.
But, he reasoned, as he tried to calm down, it also offered him a bargaining point.
If Lady Farrah, or more probably the duke, found anomalies in the books, then Freeman could use his knowledge of their liaison against them.
The duke’s reputation was everything to him and he would not want the world to know that he made a habit of meeting unmarried females in deserted cottages.
A risky strategy, but something to fight back with. Even so, Freeman knew that their entire operation was now under threat. He needed to get another warning to Dalton, and get it to him straight away.
Thus resolved, he turned his horse, who needed no urging to return the way they had come.
Freeman was equally keen to reach the stables, but for different reasons.
He needed to have an urgent word with John Coachman.
He knew Lady Farrah better than Freeman himself did, and perhaps he would have some idea of how to keep her from interfering at this most vital of times.
Freeman sure as hell hoped so because he himself was all out of ideas and would only use the knowledge of the duke’s involvement if desperation called for it, wary of the consequences if he dared to confront such a powerful man.