Dovington began to wonder if he'd have any further chance this evening to watch Miss Langley's eyes spark with defiance. Could he provoke that willful tongue of hers yet again? What other interesting things was that tongue capable of?. It seemed pleasant conversation was all he could get out of her right now and he was finding that deadly dull. The whole group of them were boring him to insensibility and all he could think of was finding a way to get Miss Langley alone.
"But if not a pug, I can't imagine what other type of dog I should have," Mrs. Vandenhoff was saying.
"We visited Bath several years ago and met a lady there who kept a nice dog," Miss Renford chirped brightly. "It was quite small with very lovely white hair. She called him Percy and he was perfect for a lady's companion, I thought."
"And what sort of dog was he? Pomeranian, perhaps?"
Miss Renford shook her head. "I don't know. Mamma, do you recall it?"
"Yes, such a lovable little thing. I don't know what it was, though. I'm sorry."
"A Maltese, I believe," Miss Langley announced. "He was terribly sweet. Ella begged for weeks after to get one of her own."
"And I never did get one," the younger girl said, giving a faux pout. "I'm still very upset."
"He sounds delightful. I've never heard of the breed," Mrs. Vandenhoff said.
"We have a picture of one," Miss Renford declared, then frowned. "At least, we did. Whatever happened to that book, Mariah? You know, the one Papa bought us."
"In the library, I believe," Miss Langley replied. "Remember how we had to keep it up on the top shelf when our neighbor Mrs. Carroll and her small children were here?"
Miss Renford nodded. "That's right, I'd forgotten. Her littlest one was determined to tear out pages and keep them for himself. The engravings are really quite lifelike."
Mrs. Vandenhoff leaned in toward her surly daughter and patted her knee. "Did you hear that, Mabel? You are very fond of dogs. We'll have to spend some time in the library during our stay here."
Miss Vandenhoff was less than enthusiastic, but Mrs. Renford and her daughters appeared fairly ecstatic to find something humane about the girl.
"Perhaps we would all like to see the book," Mrs. Renford suggested. "Mariah, why don't you see if you can go find it and bring it in here?"
Miss Langley nearly leaped up at the opportunity to escape the party, at least for a moment.
"Of course, Mamma. I'll get it right now."
"I'll help you," Dovington said with equal enthusiasm. "As it's up on the top shelf, and all."
Miss Langley pauses, and slid him a glance. She seemed slightly confused and for a moment he caught the hint of worry. It was gone immediately, though, and her expression showed nothing more than the usual overly polite smile she reserved especially for him.
"Very well. I suppose if anyone is to topple off the step stool I would rather have it be you than me."
She spoke the words so sweetly that somehow she managed to make them sound affable. No one in the room realized she was secretly wishing him to break his damn neck. He rewarded her with a smile and a devilish cocked eyebrow he also made sure no one else noticed.
"Or at least I could be there to catch you when you topple," he suggested.
Apparently she found that as tantalizingly easy to picture as he did. She blushed in earnest and he felt a distinct sense of accomplishment. Miss Langley presented herself as pristine, yet she understood every one of his innuendos. He was enjoying their game to the fullest.
They left the drawing room and he let her lead the way to the library, as if he could not find the path there in the dark with a blindfold. He was glad for light filling the corridors now, though, so that he could admire the sway of Miss Langley's hips, enjoy the defiant sparks in her eyes when she glanced back to find him admiring.
"The library is here, sir," she said.
"Pity. I was hoping perhaps you had moved it upstairs. Near the bedrooms."
"Sorry to disappoint you, but we use our bedrooms for nothing more than sleeping. This is the area of the house reserved for entertainments."
"Then I'm exceedingly thankful we are here and not there."
She huffed at his impertinence and marched over to a wall of very tall shelving. Pointing with authority, she directed his gaze upward. He let his eyes catch on all her finer qualities as she shifted, of course.
"Up there. That large volume, bound in the burgundy color. That is the book of dog breeds."
"That one?" he nodded upwards in the general direction. "There must be a dozen large volumes on that shelf. Huge, actually. You impress me, Miss Langley. You're clearly quite fond of the over large ones."
"I enjoy reading, sir. Trust me, there is nothing else in this room that could possibly interest me. At all."
He merely shrugged. "Books have their allure, I agree. But you might surprise yourself, Miss Langley, to learn there are other delights between the covers besides reading."
"I think my mother is expecting us to delight our guests waiting in the drawing room with an actual book just now, sir, not some tawdry display of schoolboy bawdiness."
"You're probably right. I can hear Miss Vandenhoff's scathing distain already if I were to suggest anything slightly off-color."
"You'd be put well in your place, that's for certain."
"It's going to take much more than a book to draw any delight out of her, I'm afraid. What do you suppose can be done? Surely you can think of some way to make the girl seem less of a... less..."
He honestly couldn't think of any word to fit there that wouldn't be taken as a direct insult toward the young lady. Miss Vandenhoff was a shrew and a nag of the worst kind, but even he wasn't low enough to go around saying so. Besides, he was hoping for her to be his sister-in-law one of these days. How on earth that would happen, he had no clue. His cousin would likely arrive tomorrow, feel the sting of the chit's sharp tongue, and go running back to his club.
"I'm sure she's simply a bit irritable due to the travel," Miss Langley said. "Surely tomorrow we'll begin to see the softer side of Miss Vandenhoff."
"I certainly hope so. I'd hate for my cousin to arrive and find her out of sorts," he muttered, though he could hardly imagine how else anyone might find the girl.
"Your cousin?"
"Yes. Didn't I mention? My cousin, Edmund Chadburne, is expected to arrive tomorrow. I'm sure that I told you."
"No. You did not. I would have remembered."
"I was sure that I had."
"You've been too busy pretending I find your insinuations amusing, apparently. You neglected to mention anything of importance, like another guest scheduled to arrive."
"Well, I've told you now. He should be here shortly after noon."
"And is he as charming as you are?"
"Almost. You'll like him."
She rolled her eyes. "I can't wait. Now please bring over the stool and collect the book that we came for."
"I could lift you and hold you until you get what you want," he suggested, purely for his own entertainment.
She stabbed him with her glare. "No thank you. The stepping stool, please."
"Very well," he said, complying and dragging over the stool so he could step up and retrieve the book. "One of these days, Miss Langley, you're bound to let someone come crashing though those barriers you've put up."
"No, your lordship, I assure you that is the last thing that will happen."
He wondered if she realized at that moment she had laid out a challenge it would be impossible for him to ignore.
Chapter 8
It had been a long, restless night and the morning hadn't gone much better. Mariah was informed a weasel had gotten into the henhouse. They'd lost several good laying hens and two cockerels that had been scheduled for dinner this week. Plus, the most dangerous type of weasel of all had somehow burrowed into Mariah's mind and simply would not leave.
She could not stop thinking about Lord Dovington.
Everything about the man s
hould repulse her. He was vulgar and impertinent. He was stubborn and self-centered. He was the sort of man who would think nothing of ruining a woman's reputation as well as her heart. He was everything she'd devoted her life to avoiding, and here he was, occupying her house and every waking thought.
He interrupted her dreams, as well, and she was furious with herself over that.
What on earth was wrong with her? She knew all too well the consequences of giving in to silly infatuation, to trusting one's heart to a man who should not be trusted with so much as a penny. She knew exactly what sort of man he was and that he was destined to marry an heiress he didn't even like simply to gain the girl's money. How could she possibly let the dark promise in his eyes and the teasing grin at his lips be in any way attractive to her?
The man was a tiger, a wild beast. He saw women as nothing more than his next meal. He would single out his prey, happily devour her, ravage her soul, and leave her for dead—metaphorically speaking, of course. But the result would be no less devastating.
Clearly he viewed her as prey. And of course, she would be the most logical victim here. He knew she had no father, had no claims of respectability. Certainly her step-father had always treated her as his own, but Dovington obviously knew the truth. Ella was a child, the daughter of a gentleman; Mariah was not. Miss Vandenhoff had a doting father and buckets of money; Mariah did not. If Lord Dovington was to amuse himself with any female here, she would be his obvious choice and it had nothing to do with any great merit on her part.
She was merely convenient, and posed no threat in the way of consequences. If he could sway her, he'd be able to take what he wanted then simply walk away without a care in the world. He was the worst sort of bounder and she sensed danger oozing from him.
It was simply abhorrent that her heart would pound and her blood would quicken at the very sight of him. Yet it did. She walked into the breakfast room, simply hoping to make sure the servants had cleared things from earlier, and there he was. Her breath caught in her chest when his eyes fell on her and he gave that dratted, irresistible smile.
"Ah, Miss Langley, we were just discussing you."
Now she noticed a gentleman with him. A few years younger than the earl, this man was not quite as tall, not quite as broad, not quite as elegant, not quite as irresistible, and not the least bit dangerous. The family resemblance was obvious, though. Apparently the cousin had arrived.
"May I present my cousin, Edmund Chadburne," the earl announced as the younger man made gallant show of gushing over his hostess.
"I'm so happy to meet you, Miss Langley," he said in very amiable tones. "Dovey tells me you've done remarkable things with The Grove during your tenure as manager here."
She was impressed to learn that the earl had noticed her efforts, and almost giddy inside to hear that he'd spoken so highly of her. She refused to comment on any of that, though.
"Dovey?"
The earl cringed and his cousin guffawed. "Sorry, his lordship, I mean. He hates that old nickname."
"Old nickname? He's only had the title for a year, hasn't he?" she asked.
"Ah, but he's had the nickname for years. Since school. The coves there saddled him with it because—"
"It hardly matters," the earl interrupted. "As you see, Miss Langley, my cousin has arrived. Your housekeeper was kind enough to lay out an early luncheon for him since he didn't bother to eat along the way."
"It was too nice a day to waste time in a dreary inn somewhere eating bad food. Besides, I couldn't wait to meet... that is, to see my dear old cousin again. He's been so busy working over his ledgers and rolling up his sleeves at that pile of stone there in Surrey that I haven't seen him gallivanting around Town in ages."
"Dovington Downs has needed my attentions far more than London has," the earl said. "But it is good to see you again, Ned. I'm sure Miss Langley and her family will make your visit here quite comfortable."
"Indeed, I hope you feel very welcome here," she said and sincerely meant it even though he did call her home by the wrong name.
"I do, thank you," he replied. "Dovey was just offering to take me about for a look at the lands around here. He says the views are quite good. Why, even just now I was admiring out the window and remarking how very romantic it all is. You have a hermit's hut on the grounds, don't you, Miss Langley?"
She followed his gaze out the window and realized Mr. Chadburne had fixed on the old groundskeeper's hut down past the formal gardens and built into a hillside. Indeed, she hardly paid mind to it herself, but she supposed to a newcomer it must appear somewhat romantic, framed by the green of the hill and two vining roses that were just now going to bud. The most distinctive feature, however, was the red door. It was faded now after years of weathering, but against the backdrop of nature it really was eye-catching.
"We had an old groundskeeper who lived there, but my step-father built new accommodations for that when I was still just a child."
"I'm sure I see smoke from the pipe, though. Surely someone lives there," Mr. Chadburne insisted.
"Yes, it is still a snug little house. We have a lodger there right now, someone new to our area who is having a house in the village readied for himself," she explained and hoped the earl wouldn't immediately rush out and raise the poor man's rent fees.
"I see," Mr. Chadburne said with a nod. "It is all even better than expected. I cannot wait to get out and see what other wonders we can find around here."
"We do have many lovely places," Mariah assured him. "The River Itchen flows nearby and you will find ridges and outcrops to provide exceedingly nice vistas."
"Exactly what I need after being pent up in Town for so long. But surely you will join us, Miss Langley?"
"What? Oh, no, I couldn't—"
"Of course you could. Dovey hasn't been here in ages. You must accompany us on our outing so you can point out all the best places to go."
"I'm sure his lordship can find his way without me just fine."
"And what of this Miss Vandinghorfer?" the younger man asked.
"Vandenhoff," the earl corrected. "You must mean Miss Vandenhoff."
"The very one. Didn't you say she is a guest here as well? We'll bring her along, and anyone else Miss Langley thinks we ought to have. We'll make a picnic of it!"
"A picnic? Oh, I don't know that we should—"
"It's an excellent day and what could be more perfect than a picnic out in the verdant embrace of nature? Come, Miss Langley, say you will let us. Everyone longs for the romance of a pleasant day in the countryside?"
Er, no, everyone did not long for that. Romance indeed! She would much prefer never subjecting herself to any situation that could possibly include both Lord Dovington and romance.
Then again, the day was every bit as lovely as Mr. Chadburne said, and Mariah was looking for opportunities to put his lordship together in amiable company with Miss Vandenhoff... yes, perhaps this picnic was what they all needed, after all. She would just take care to ignore any of the inherent romance.
"Very well," she consented. "I'll talk to cook about putting together a hamper for us and find out if others are interested."
"Capital! This is shaping up to be a most distracting holiday for me," Mr. Chadburne said with a grin.
Mariah knew her attempt at a corresponding grin was not nearly so successful. This might be a holiday for Mr. Chadburne, but it was serious business for her. She had to somehow throw together a picnic outing and convince Miss Vandenhoff to come along. Worse, she had to convince the girl to enjoy it.
The earl eyed his cousin once Miss Langley left the room. Ned seemed in high spirits today—a little too high, by his estimation. If his plan was to have any hope of working out, he'd best make very certain his cousin understood his goal here.
"Verdant embrace of nature?" he quoted, not holding back on the mocking sneer.
"I thought she might be of a romantic nature and be given to fancy language."
"She isn't."
"Well, don't. She's not your quarry and I'll thank you to stop liking her looks or anything about her."
"Oh? Got some designs of your own, cousin?"
The earl snorted at that—perhaps a bit too loudly—but he hoped his quick explanation would cover.
"Hardly. She's my tenant, Ned, and off limits to you. I've brought you here for one purpose and that's what you should concentrate on."
"The heiress. Right. I'll win her over, no doubt, but I don't see why I can't enjoy the rest of the scenery while I'm here."
"Miss Langley is not scenery."
Now Ned was the one who snorted. "She definitely looked like it to me."
"Well stop looking. If you must start making cow's eyes at someone, then Miss Vandenhoff is your aim."
Ned shrugged. "I don't see why you don't just marry her yourself and let me go pick out my own bride."
"We've been over this. I'll put things back to right after my father's embarrassing tenure, but I won't be responsible for future generations. That's to be your purview, I'm afraid, and the Vandenhoff chit is just what is needed to breathe a little fresh air into our bloodline."
"Fresh money, you mean. And my father was nearly as bad as yours was about looking after things," Ned insisted. "I don't see why you're so convinced I need to be the one to carry on the family tree."
"Trust me, your children will thank me."
Ned seemed unimpressed with the prospect. "If you say so. I'm just hoping not to have children who look like the very devil. Is this Vandenhoff chit easy on the eyes? Am I going to have to hide her away in the country all our married life?"
"She's perfectly passable."
"Oh good God. She's a wildebeest, isn't she?"
"Absolutely not. Miss Vandenhoff is adequately sized, has all the right features in all the expected places, and you'll note that her complexion is better than average. She dresses herself well and will be seen as a credit to any man."
The Earl's Passionate Plot Page 5