CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Lady Chalford was agog to find out what had passed between Elizabeth and Sir Lucius, but it was clear at the end of the evening that Elizabeth was yearning for her bed, and had no intention of recounting anything without questioning.
She did not look miserable, nor yet angered, but Lady Chalford doubted that she had given Sir Lucius a firm answer.
When he had left the party he had thanked her politely and without any trace of emotion.
A man rejected might well have shown disappointment, even chagrin.
She was perplexed, and blamed a disturbed night upon that rather than an overindulgence in crab patties.
‘So, my dear …’
‘So, Aunt?’
‘Now do not, for pity’s sake, try and tell me that nothing passed between you and Sir Lucius Radstock last night. I saw you slip away, yes, and saw him do likewise. Did he make you a declaration, Elizabeth?’
‘No, he did not.’
‘But’ – Lady Chalford looked confused – ‘then why did he want to speak privately to you, at a party?’
‘That is easily explained, Aunt.’ Elizabeth bit into a piece of toast, and never before had her aunt wanted to tell her to rush her food. When she had swallowed, she turned an innocent smile to her aunt and said, ‘You see, he thought it imperative to tell me that he was not making me an offer.’
Lady Chalford’s mouth opened for speech, but no words came. She stared at her niece as if she had spoken in an unknown foreign language. Slowly, the words sank in, and in consequence her ire rose.
‘Not going to make you an offer? How dare he arrange a meeting in a room alone and not propose marriage. It is outrageous. My poor Elizabeth.’
‘Poor? Why, no such thing, ma’am. I was heartily relieved, and it showed Sir Lucius to be a man of honour and integrity.’
‘Relieved, Elizabeth? Are you mad, child?’
‘Not at all. I disliked the idea that any man should be under the impression that all he had to do was snap his 200fingers, so to speak, and I would instantly fawn at his feet in gratitude.’ Her tone had a bite to it.
‘Do you not like Sir Lucius?’
‘I’ – she paused – ‘like him well enough. Indeed, we are engaged’ – she left the word hanging just long enough for her aunt’s eyes to widen – ‘to go riding this morning.’
‘I do not understand you, Elizabeth. Do you tell me you simply do not want to be married? My dear, it is not’ – she coloured, and sought in vain for the right word – ‘frightening, I assure you.’
Elizabeth looked at her plate. Had she not spent several hours in the night asking herself that question?
She had been relieved, as she said, that Sir Lucius had not proposed, expecting her acceptance, but there had been a sigh of disappointment in her heart, a heart that whispered that of all men, Sir Lucius was the one she could trust, the one who could make her life joyous.
She had tossed and turned, as the whisper became a clamour in the silent hours, and her dispassionate head not been able to respond.
Lady Chalford watched her niece’s face. She had never quite fathomed why Henry Freshford’s defection had made Elizabeth turn away from men permanently.
After all, she had not been wildly in love with him from the first. It had taken some persistence on the young man’s part to win her over, and only then had she gained the bloom of young love.
That the heart of the problem was an earlier desertion, Lady Chalford had failed to see.
She would have probed deeper had not a note been presented to Miss Ashling.
Elizabeth would normally have winced at the handwriting, but this morning a letter from Mr Escott was an ideal distraction.
201She had expected a poem, but found instead a letter, so confused in composition that she was forced to read it twice before she could make any sense of it whatsoever.
It was a twisted mess that was quite possibly a combination of an apology, an exculpation and a diatribe against the cruelty of women.
It was also no less impassioned against the soulless inhumanity of Sir Lucius Radstock, whom he could not bring to meet him in honourable combat, for which last Elizabeth offered up a silent thanks.
She gave the gist of the missive to her aunt.
‘At least, I think that is what he is saying. To be honest, it is such a mish-mash, and scattered with obscure classical references, that I am hard pressed to be sure. The only certainty seems to be that he no longer sees me as his muse and thinks I may therefore be guilty of robbing the world of untold poetic gems, unless he finds a replacement.’
‘Well, and a good thing too, I say, but he is right upon one point. Sir Lucius Radstock is inhuman if he does not offer for you.’ Lady Chalford was still outraged, and her niece vouchsafed no response.
Elizabeth was glad to escape into the fresh air. She arrived in Brook Street a couple of minutes after Sir Lucius, who had dismounted from his big bay and was murmuring endearments to Mist, who seemed decidedly jumpy. The groom looked at her very seriously.
‘You’ll have to watch her this morning, miss. She’s already kicked over a bucket, dragged a lad about the yard and run me ragged just getting a saddle on her. Being cooped up has got her on the fret, good and proper.’
202‘Thank you. I shall be careful.’
Sir Lucius made his bow, and before she could demur, offered himself to throw her up into the saddle, which he did as if she were as light as swansdown, which she knew she was not. The grey mare chewed on the bit as if meditating what to do next, and rolled a sapient eye at Sir Lucius.
He took his own horse from the waiting groom, mounted in a single fluid movement and left the yard, close to the grey so that she could not sidle into traffic.
Effectively penned against the edge of the carriageway by the bigger horse, Mist showed her disapproval by throwing her head about, presumably hoping to pull Elizabeth’s arms from their sockets, but found that her rider simply let her toss as much as she wished.
‘I think we would be better trotting, Miss Ashling. The sooner we are off the paved highway the better. I get the feeling the mare is like a rocket this morning, just after lighting the blue touch paper.’
‘She does feel very pent up, I agree. Poor girl.’
Elizabeth did not have to provide much urging for the grey to break into a bouncy trot, and once they had crossed Park Lane onto the track about Hyde Park, the mare threw up her head, nostrils wide, and proceeded to try and buck Elizabeth from the saddle.
It certainly gave Sir Lucius the chance to admire her skills as a horsewoman, although it precluded conversation.
If he knew a few moments of concern, he did not let them show, nor the readiness in which he held himself to act if the mare tried to bolt.
Elizabeth had too much to concentrate upon to pay him 203attention, but after a few minutes the worst of the mare’s agitation passed.
‘Well, that was exciting,’ commented Elizabeth, rather breathlessly. Sir Lucius tried to gaze at her face and not the rapid rise and fall of her bosom beneath the muslin folds pinned with his brooch.
‘I think when we saw her for sale, she had been exercised. I confess that, had I seen how mettlesome she was, I would have not recommended her as a ladies’ mount.’ He sounded quite concerned.
‘Fiddle! She just needs a firm hand. However, unless Lady Godmanchester has become infinitely more at home upon a horse, I fear that for her she is too difficult a mount. I am only glad that for a few months, at least, I will have had the opportunity to ride such an animal.’
The serious look remained.
‘You think me foolhardy, sir?’
‘No, ma’am, for you have just given an exhibition of your skills as a horsewoman, had I not guessed them previously. It does not mean, however, that I think the mare best suited to a lady, and especially not to Town, and busy streets.’
‘I will concede that she would be far better for a good gallop, and the streets are somewhat of a concern.’
‘Might I ask, Miss Ashling, that if the mare is not at least exercised by a groom for a day or so, that you let me accompany you. Chester here is big enough to keep her from cavorting in front of other vehicles.’ He saw her scowl.
‘You think it presumption, I can see, but I feel in some measure responsible.’
204He was not using this as an excuse. It was no ploy, and had he not said that he was not intending to make her an offer? The sense of being under his protection increased, and Elizabeth was surprised to find that she did not object to it.
‘In that case, Sir Lucius, I accept gladly. The poor weather prevented Lord Godmanchester’s grooms from taking her out, no doubt.’
‘Or perhaps they were not so doughty, ma’am.’
She coloured at the implied compliment, and tried to steer the conversation away from herself.
He regretted the comment almost as soon as it left his lips, guessing her reaction, and made no attempt to stop her, but was surprised that she immediately chose the subject that had arisen on their last, and intermittently awkward, ride.
‘I was wondering, Sir Lucius, about your horses at your country residence. I am sorry, I do not know whereabouts that is situated. Do you get the opportunity to get back and see your new foals during the London Season?’
‘We live in Berkshire, at a place called Paley Court. I can get back and spend a night there, easily enough.’
‘We?’
‘My mother rarely comes to London, since my father’s demise, except for new hats, and a visit to her dressmaker, and then she enjoys all the benefits of seeing her friends. Otherwise, she is a prolific correspondent.’
‘Is Lady Radstock interested in your horse breeding?’
‘No, my father was a friend of Sir Charles Bunbury, and a member of the Jockey Club. He was more interested in the racing itself, and owned a few good winners in his 205time. I suppose I have the interest in, er, my bloodline.’