Sir Michael stared in disbelief as he cautiously climbed up to sit beside her.
Ravina raised her hand in farewell to the servants who were standing in the doorway, then released the brake and shook up the reins, guiding the team into a slow controlled walk as George leapt onto the little seat behind her.
She realised Sir Michael was looking at her in astonishment.
“I know you did not expect it to be me driving the carriage today,” she said mischievously, “but it is what I enjoy more than anything. It was remiss of me not to mention it yesterday.”
“I am very impressed,” Sir Michael told her. “But it does surprise me that you like driving a carriage and pair in London with all the traffic.”
“Oh, I have done it for years,” Ravina replied, exaggerating slightly. “Papa always said that if I had been a boy, I would have learnt to drive. Being a girl should not stop someone doing what they want to do, don’t you agree?”
Sir Michael muttered something vague and Ravina tried not to giggle as she saw his knuckles were white where he was gripping the edge of his seat.
She flicked her whip at the ear of the offside horse to keep his head straight and smiled swiftly at her companion.
“Sir Michael, I first rode to hounds when I was five and was taught to drive almost as soon as I could hold the reins. Believe me, you are quite safe in my hands.”
“Well, Lady Ravina, you have certainly surprised me this morning.”
“I promise you that we will indeed arrive quite safely in the country. And, to put your mind completely at rest George is ready and eager to leap to my aid if I encounter any problems I cannot deal with.”
“The way you handle the team tells me that there is unlikely to be anything that you could not overcome. Indeed, you seem like a young Queen Boadicea, riding her chariot into battle!”
Ravina laughed.
She was pleased by the compliment, even if she found it a little too flowery for her taste.
She glanced sideways at Sir Michael, ready to return the compliment with some silly remark about conquering armies, when she realised the expression on his face was far from light-hearted.
He was gazing at her with a very warm look in his eyes and for an instant or two she remembered that this man was indeed almost a complete stranger.
“If you continue to make such remarks, I shall have to ask George to take over the reins,” she said. “I cannot blush and drive at the same time, Sir Michael!”
“Then I will keep my compliments until later.”
Ravina grinned and turned back to her task.
“We all enjoy compliments, but do tell me more about the Priory,” she asked swiftly, trying to bring the conversation back onto neutral ground.
“I fear my words will not do it justice. It is an extremely old edifice. It was, as its name suggests, once a religious building, but it has been in disrepair for many years. I am pleased with the progress I have made with its restoration and I shall await your verdict with great anticipation.
“In fact, I have been thinking, Lady Ravina. I intend to hold a house warming ball in the near future for the whole County, and, as I told you yesterday, I will be giving a little dinner party for close neighbours earlier.
“I shall need some female guidance and someone to play the hostess for the evening. What do you say to the idea of coming to stay at the Priory so that you can be on hand to supervise the arrangements? I beg of you to be my guest, even if it is only for two or three nights.”
Ravina felt a frisson of excitement.
She had never been in sole charge at a dinner party. Her mother had obviously always been present to oversee everything with her calming presence.
“I would enjoy such a prospect a great deal,” she said, her blue eyes sparkling. “I have lots of ideas on how to make a social occasion go well. And I am extremely keen on seeing what you have done to the Priory and how I might help you.”
Sir Michael regarded the softness of her cheek and the full but determined curve of her mouth. He had never encountered anyone with such enthusiasm for life.
Ravina was unlike any other lady he had ever met. There was a boldness to her manner, which many men might find unappealing, but he found it invigorating.
“I shall certainly be interested to hear your views,” he responded. “I was keen to have your father’s advice on my racehorses, but yours will be just as welcome. I want the Priory to be as fine and beautiful a residence as when it was first built.”
Ravina gave a cry and her fingers tightened on the reins, causing the horses to falter slightly. She grimaced in annoyance with herself, knowing that her emotions had travelled down the reins to their sensitive mouths.
“I am nowhere near as clever as my father. Perhaps you would be better advised to wait until he and Mama return from their travels to the Balkans.”
“I think you will be exactly what my house requires,” Sir Michael intoned gravely and watched as the colour flooded into her cheeks.
They drove for a long way in silence.
Ravina was only too aware that his gaze was constantly on her face and although she was flattered by his attention – indeed what girl would not enjoy having the admiration of such a gentleman – she still felt slightly uneasy and was not quite sure why.
After two hours driving, Sir Michael suggested that they stopped at a hotel in a small country town to rest the horses and stretch their limbs.
Ravina was only too glad to do so. She enjoyed driving, but her close proximity to Sir Michael was making her feel uncomfortable.
Although he had behaved like a perfect gentleman, she still wished now that she had told him there was no room in the coach for him.
Leaving George in charge of the horses, they entered the hotel.
It was a busy bustling place and the foyer was a hive of activity with people coming and going, piles of luggage awaiting transport, porters and messenger boys criss-crossing the floor with dizzying speed.
Leading off the well-appointed dining room was a pleasant conservatory full of beautiful begonias and potted tropical plants of every shape and colour.
Pretty white and green striped chairs were gathered around wicker tables and Ravina sank back against the cushions, glad to be free of the carriage for a while.
Coffee and almond biscuits were brought in by a smiling waitress and Ravina admired the patterns made on the floor by petals falling from a huge golden flower.
Sir Michael followed her gaze and frowned,
“What a mess that plant has made. Shall I ask for the floor to be swept, Lady Ravina? I am surprised that an establishment of this class cannot keep its public rooms tidier.”
Ravina stared at him, startled, then lowered her eyes and murmured something non-committal under her breath. She had suspected he was joking, but it was obvious from his expression that he was deadly serious.
“Goodness, how pompous can you be?” she thought. “A few flower petals hardly constitute chaos.”
And she felt a twinge of regret. For all his charming manners and compliments, Sir Michael suddenly seemed a little old and stuffy.
“But he is educated and charming,” she scolded herself. “Perhaps it is my views that are unschooled and undisciplined.”
Feeling guilty, she tried extra hard to be attentive to Sir Michael, who was telling her the history of hothouse plants and listing in alphabetical order the varieties that he would grow at the Priory when his greenhouses were in full working order.
“When you come to stay for a few nights, you will see exactly what I have planned,” he said, smiling warmly at her. “I am a great believer in order. I insist that my gardeners group all the plants together by colour and size. I dislike gardens where red and pink and purple are allowed to intermingle indiscriminately.”
“I shall look forward to it immensely,” Ravina replied faintly. “I am sure I shall be most impressed.”
And she crossed her fingers silently under her napkin as she s
poke – a childish habit she had never quite grown out of when she told a little lie.
At last, with the coffee drunk, Ravina felt she had smiled and complimented Sir Michael enough and that it was time to continue their journey.
“I will pay our bill,” Sir Michael said, looking around for the waitress who was nowhere to be seen.
With an irritated exclamation about inefficiency, he hurried out of the conservatory and Ravina rose, smoothing down the skirt of her blue travelling suit.
She could hear water running prettily somewhere close by and wandered round to the back of the flowers to find a small indoor fountain and then –
“Oh!”
A man was sitting in a chair on the other side of the display, his long legs stretched out in front of him.
His tanned hand shot out to grasp her wrist as she almost fell over his feet.
Ravina was laughing as she raised her eyes to his face and then gulped.
It was the same dark-haired man again.
‘Sir! Are you following me?’
Deep brown eyes looked at her as he slowly stood up, a tall slim man with a strong handsome face.
“If I have the misfortune to be in your vicinity when you are playing the flirt, madam, I assure you that it is not by choice.”
Ravina started.
She had not been flirting with Sir Michael!
Well, maybe a little, she conceded, her innate honesty coming to the surface, but only because he had been kind and she was guilty at feeling bored by his conversation.
“Eavesdropping is not a very gentlemanly action, sir. May I know who it is whom I have so offended by my behaviour?” she snapped.
The stranger bowed briefly.
“Sir Richard Crawford at your service.”
“I am Lady Ravina Ashley and I find it strange, sir, that we should meet in this fashion.”
Sir Richard shrugged.
“Life is full of little coincidences. I am sure we would find we have acquaintances in common and this hotel is the obvious place to stop for refreshment when one is heading for Dorset from London.”
Ravina bit her lip.
Everything he said was true, but that did not explain his presence on horseback outside her house the night before or the fact that he had been walking past on foot later.
Meeting twice she could perhaps accept as a coincidence, but not four times.
“So, what would your parents think of your staying overnight at Sir Michael Moore’s house?”
Ravina felt angry.
What right had this man to ask her such a question?
“That is none of your business, sir!” she exclaimed.
“I think it is everyone’s business when a young lady seems to be placing herself in a situation that could be easily misconstrued by Society gossips.”
He stood up and Ravina was tempted to take a step backwards. He seemed to tower over her, intimidating her with his dark eyes. But she refused to be cowed.
She raised her chin in a stubborn gesture that her parents would have recognised only too well. Everyone who had watched Ravina growing up knew that she could be led, but never pushed.
“I am quite capable of making my own decisions about my friendships,” she said, her blue eyes blazing. “We are not living in the last century when women were not allowed to have opinions of their own. I do not need any guidance from anyone – least of all a perfect stranger.”
Sir Richard’s lips tightened into a thin white line.
‘Flirting with a gentleman who has just asked you to spend a few nights under his roof tells me that you need all the guidance you can get.’
Ravina felt her temper rising.
She opened her mouth to snap a sharp reply, but heard voices from the other side of the room. Sir Michael was returning with the waitress.
There was no time to tell Sir Richard exactly what she thought of him.
She dropped the merest hint of a curtsy, turned on her heel and walked away, head high, blinking back the tears that were now threatening to fall.
How dare he say such things about her. Why, he made it sound as if she was some flighty flibbertigibbet with no morals and no sense of how to behave.
She could not remember when she had been so upset and angry.
Leaving the hotel, Ravina returned to her carriage feeling hot and flustered.
George was waiting to hand her up into the driver’s seat when common sense took over.
She knew she was in no fit state to drive carefully. From the first day her father had allowed her to handle a horse in harness, the rules had been plain – you never allow the animals or your passengers to come to grief because of how you are feeling. All your decisions had to be made with a clear head and at the moment hers was far from that.
“Lady Ravina – ” George said hesitantly.
‘Yes, George?’
“I thought you should know, when I was at the stables, I was approached by a man askin’ if this was the Ashley carriage and if you was travellin’ in it.”
‘A gentleman? A friend of mine, perhaps?’
George shook his head.
“No, Lady Ravina, he were a servant – perhaps a footman. Seemed desperate keen to know who was travellin’ down to Dorset from Ashley House.”
‘Did you tell him?’
He looked shocked.
“Certainly not, my Lady. Lord Ashley is always most insistent that we say nothin’ to no one about the family’s business.”
“Perhaps he is from a newspaper. Sometimes they write articles about Papa and what he is doing. He may have been a reporter wanting Papa’s comments on some foreign story.”
She dismissed it from her mind and told George that she would let him drive the rest of the way to Dorset.
She climbed inside the coach and a few minutes later Sir Michael joined her.
He seemed eager to talk, but Ravina suddenly felt weary of making conversation. She closed her eyes and let the swaying carriage lull her.
But her mind would not relax. All she could see wereSir Richard Crawford’s dark angry eyes.
All she could hear was the ringing accusation in his voice – that she was flirting unwisely with Sir Michael and that her parents would be appalled.
“Oh, odious man!” she thought. “At least Sir Michael has been nothing but charming to me all the way from London. He might be a bit boring, but at least he has the manners of a gentleman.”
At long last, Ravina could tell by the slowing of the horses that they had reached their destination. She opened her eyes to find Sir Michael gazing eagerly from the window.
“Ah, Lady Ravina, we have arrived at the Priory. May I impose on you to have your first look and tell me what you think?”
Ravina pulled up the blind and looked out.
The horses were walking slowly up a long straight drive laid out with formal gardens on each side.
In front of them was the old stone house, its walls covered with a bright red creeper that had been pruned back neatly from the mullioned windows.
Even from a distance, Ravina could see that the whole place gave the appearance of being repaired and restored.
A fine new gravelled area in front of the main door had been recently raked into neat patterns. Everything looked spick and span. Even the flowerbeds were arranged neatly in rows with all the reds in one area and blues and whites in another.
“Goodness!” Ravina exclaimed. “I thought as we came down the drive that George must have driven to the wrong house.
“I remember often peeping through the gates of the Priory when I was young. The drive was always overgrown with tall weeds and the house looked run down, almost a ruin. Now look at it. Anyone would be delighted to call it home.”
Sir Michael laughed with pleasure, his rugged face appearing much younger.
“You are saying exactly the right things, Lady Ravina,” he told her. “I will be very hurt if you do not come over for lunch tomorrow, because I have a thousand questions to
ask you and frankly I shall find it impossible to do any more to the house until I have sought your help and advice.”
“Thank you, but I am sure my help will not be needed, although I am complimented that you think it will.”
“And you will stay for a few nights soon? We have plenty of rooms. I am sure your cousin will come too so you would be well chaperoned.”
Ravina nodded and smiled sweetly, but did not reply.
She had forgotten Dulcie. But of course, she could go with her to the Priory.
That wretched Sir Richard Crawford could not have been more wrong. If she was well chaperoned, there would be no reason for her not to stay at the Priory.
Sir Michael jumped down from the carriage when they arrived and with many more warm words of thanks, stood waving as George turned the carriage and shook the horses into a trot.
Ravina sat back with a sigh. In fifteen minutes they would reach Curbishley Hall. She was longing for a nice cup of tea and the comfort of her own room.
George swung the team out of the gates and flicked thewhip to urge them on. It was uphill for a few miles and the team was tired and needed all his attention.
That was a pity because if he had glanced behind him, he would have noticed a man riding a foam-flecked horse, standing hidden behind a clump of bushes.
The same man who had spoken to him in the courtyard of the hotel at lunchtime.
But even George’s sharp eyes would not have picked out another shape – a solitary grey horse and rider, outlined for a second against the crest of a rise before they merged into the trees and vanished from view.
CHAPTER FOUR
Ravina’s irritation vanished like an early mist as the coach finally crested the last hill and began the long run down towards Curbishley Hall.
She leant out of the window enjoying the feel of the breeze on her cheeks. She could almost believe she could taste salt from the sea in the air.
She pulled off her hat and let the wind tease her blonde hair out of its tightly bound coils.
There. They were almost home.
Curbishley Hall, the Earl of Ashley’s country seat, lay in a wide valley, sheltered from the sea on one side by rolling hills and from the nearby town of Rosbourne by a great track of woodland.
An Unexpected Love Page 4