Chapter Ten #2
Breakfast, of which he only ate a little, over, Harry returned to the library and his perusal of the books.
These seemed to him to be correct and up to date, but as he’d told Crawford, bookkeeping was not his speciality.
Forgoing luncheon, hours passed, and he was becoming bored with the pages and pages of neatly written figures when the door of the library swung open.
A strange man strode in, Lady Madeley on his arm looking slightly flustered, and behind her Miss Melissa Madeley, a truculent expression on her pretty face.
Crawford arrived in their wake, even more flustered than his ex-mistress. “Sir Julian Horncastle, Sir Henry,” he said, patently struggling to keep disapproval out of his voice. “Lady Madeley and Miss Madeley.”
Sir Julian released his possessive hold on Lady Madeley and strode up to Harry, one slightly pudgy hand outstretched.
“You must be Sir Henry. I’ve been hearing a lot about you.
Welcome to Northamptonshire.” He seized Harry’s hand and shook it with vigor, whilst performing a curt nod of the head that stood in for a bow.
Harry returned the head nod, not at all sure who Sir Julian Horncastle must be, nor why he’d arrived with Lady Madeley, who once out of his grip had composed herself.
She was looking very pretty in a dove grey gown that suited her complexion and made her look younger than ever.
Very much the older sister of Miss Melissa Madeley, not the mother.
Harry bowed to her. “Lady Madeley, Miss Madeley, how kind of you to return my call.”
But who on earth was this with them? A family friend? A would-be suitor? Otherwise why were they all in company together? Annoyance washed over him as he’d been looking forward to seeing Lady Madeley again. A worrying thought arose. Was he, in fact, feeling a little jealous? And if so, why?
Lady Madeley must have read his thoughts.
Well, some of them. Hopefully not all. She smiled that sweet smile he was getting used to seeing and that he was now sure was just a careful mask.
“Sir Julian was a close friend of my husband’s and is our neighbor.
He lives at Thornby Grange.” She glanced at her daughter.
“He happened to arrive at Rampton just when we were about to leave in order to call on you and very kindly offered to act as our escort.”
What was it he was missing behind her words? Used as he was to dealing with soldiers, many of whom intended to pull the wool over his eyes and get him to say they were too sick for duty, her words weren’t as convincing as she might think they were.
“How very auspicious,” he said. “Won’t you all come into the parlor with me. As you can see, I have the library turned upside down as I’ve been looking through the estate records. I think you might know the way. Crawford, could you bring tea for my visitors? Thank you.”
The fire must have been lit in the parlor first thing, for the room was warm and cosy.
They all sat down and Harry put another log on the fire as it was dying down a little.
He noted with interest that the ladies occupied a settee that could hold no one but the two of them and that Sir Julian for a moment looked disappointed.
Yes, would-be suitor fit him to a tee. But which lady was he interested in?
Surely not Melissa, as she was so young, and he must be all of fifty if he was a day.
That would be quite distasteful. So it must be Lady Madeley herself, something he couldn’t blame the man for.
She was indeed quite lovely. However, this did not endear the fellow to Harry.
The two ladies sat demurely, hands clasped in their laps.
“As you so kindly called on us yesterday,” Lady Madeley said, with another gentle smile that betrayed none of her thoughts.
“We thought it only polite that we should return the visit.” She was doing an excellent job of not staring around the room in order to see if he’d made any changes to her home.
Which of course he hadn’t. Not that he’d had any time to do so, but why would he?
The house was perfect and he was not a man who liked change.
“I’m delighted to welcome you,” he said. “Although I fear you might find returning here quite difficult.”
Sir Julian butted in. “It is for me, too, you know. This was my good friend’s home and it’s strange for me to find another fellow here. But I’ll get used to it, I suppose.”
Was that a hint of aggression in his voice?
Harry wished he was better at divining hidden meanings, but his prowess lay in obvious diagnostics not in suppositions.
However, he might well diagnose that Sir Julian, who had an obsessive air about him, was seeing him as a rival for Lady Madeley’s hand.
He would probably see any man in that light. “I’m sure you will.”
Lady Madeley’s eyes definitely narrowed.
“Sir Julian very kindly called to invite me to dinner at his house next week.” She turned a beatific smile on the man in question.
“I’m afraid I had to turn him down as at the moment I don’t think I could bring myself to go out into society.
After all, it’s only a few short months since Geoffrey’s death.
” She smiled again, this time at Harry. “However, I’m quite sure he’ll want to invite you so the local gentry can meet you.
They must all be bursting with curiosity as I’m reliably informed everyone in the neighborhood knows of your arrival. ”
Sir Julian didn’t look as though this was what he wanted at all, but manners could not be disregarded.
“Why yes,” he blustered. “Of course that was my intention. Next Friday. It won’t be a large affair.
Quite intimate. I understand, of course, that Lady Madeley doesn’t want to go out into society just yet, but perhaps she might change her mind if I tell her it will be a quiet dinner party.
I hope that might be acceptable.” He looked questioningly at her, and Harry was sure he detected a wince.
“I can assure you it will be a very small affair, in respect for your recent loss, Lady Madeley.”
The man couldn’t disguise the hunger in his gaze.
She must surely be aware of his feelings.
But, from the look of her, she didn’t return them.
Although, it was possible she viewed him as a way out of what must be comparative penury in her old farmhouse.
Unless, of course, she had money from her parents.
If only he knew more details. Perhaps he would have to interrogate Crawford, after all.
Harry nodded to Sir Julian. “Thank you for your invitation. I should be honored to accept.”
Had he just seen Lady Madeley’s gaze sharpen?
“In that case,” she said, laying a hand on her daughter’s arm.
“For the sake of my daughter, I think a quiet dinner party might well be acceptable. The poor child has had no opportunity as yet to move in social circles. I had been intending to hold a ball this autumn prior to her London debut in the New Year, but that was before dear Geoffrey passed away so unexpectedly.”
Melissa did not look as though this was acceptable to her at all. Her lower lip jutted and she put a hand up to her mouth to nibble the finger of a glove. A gentle gesture from her mother brought that hand down again. But Melissa directed a fierce frown at Harry when her mother turned away.
Good heavens. The girl seemed to have very much taken against him. He had to wonder what he’d done to provoke such a malevolent look.
As for Sir Julian, he looked a little nonplussed, as though he’d been side swiped by a cannon ball, in fact.
Had he been intending the invitation Lady Madeley had previously turned down to be only for her?
Harry couldn’t be sure, but had a feeling that she’d only agreed to go once he’d said he would. But why?
Sir Julian plastered on a politely pleased expression. “What a charming idea. Of course Miss Madeley should come too. I can’t think why that didn’t occur to me earlier.”
Was that satisfaction, now, in Lady Madeley’s lovely blue eyes? Had she been worried the dinner at Thornby might have been a far too intimate tête-à-tête between just her and Sir Julian? From the look on the fellow’s face, that might well have been what he’d intended.
Harry, unused as he was to the vagaries of polite society, owned himself puzzled.
At first he’d thought Sir Julian and Lady Madeley must be close friends as they’d arrived together, but all the signals he’d been getting suggested otherwise.
The man had clearly not intended to invite either Melissa or himself and now was more than a little put out by having had his hand forced into doing so.
The part of him that was still a schoolboy couldn’t help but rejoice that he was outfoxing such a man as this.
“Thank you, Sir Julian,” Melissa said, after a surreptitious prod from her mother, “but I don’t like to attend dinner parties.”
Lady Madeley’s knuckles whitened on her daughter’s hand, but she maintained her gentle smile. “It’s only that she’s not been to one before, Sir Julian. Nothing else. I know she will enjoy the evening.” She turned her gaze on Harry. “Especially if you are there, Sir Henry.”
What?
Harry stared. Was she trying to pair him off with her daughter, a girl straight out of the school room? An ingenue?
She was.
“In fact,” Lady Madeley said with an air of a fait accompli, “Why don’t you show Sir Henry around the gardens, Melissa? You’ll be able to tell him all about the different plants as you have such a good knowledge of them.”
Harry was relieved to see Melissa flash an angry glare at her mother, but she stood with good grace. “Of course, Mama.”
And he was obliged to take her out into the garden.
He picked up his cane and held out his arm, but, with a haughty frown, she raised her chin and ignored him, then stalked through the doors onto the terrace. All he could do was follow in her wake.