“Laura!” called out a panicked male voice from somewhere behind Jane.
The horse grew continually more agitated by her awkward handling and danced about, making it ever more difficult to accomplish her task. Finally, Jane freed the girl’s ankle and fell backward to the ground, holding the girl safe in her arms and landing hard on her derrière. Her tail bone stung like too many bee stings all in one place.
The girl’s escort and his companion reached them, both men jumping down to the ground. One grabbed the reins of all three horses. The other took Laura from Jane’s trembling arms and rocked her back and forth. “My girl. My sweet girl.”
“I do believe she’ll be perfectly all right, sir,” Jane said as she tried to pull herself into a sitting position. “It only seems to be a bit of a fainting spell. There should be no permanent damage.” Dear lord, please let this child be all right.
Somehow, a crowd had gathered all around them. A number of ladies fished through their reticules until one of them came out with hartshorn and pushed it forward amidst the none-too-hushed commentary swirling all around their small group.
“Did you see how she saved that girl?”
“Stopped the horse right in its tracks. Truly amazing, if you ask me.”
“Miss Matthews, are you quite all right? Let me through please!” This last, of course, came from none other than Lord Eldredge. “I must see to Miss Matthews immediately, thank you.”
Jane, however, was far more concerned about the health of Laura, so she neglected to answer him immediately. Some things were more important in life than rushing to answer a dandified gentleman who would allow her to do what he should have done instead.
Hence his next overreaction. “Step back, if you will. I say, allow me to pass.”
A few muttered grumbles came from one side of the crowd, where bodies seemed to be parting in a less than comfortable wave. One gentleman lost his footing, Jane could only imagine from being shoved from behind, and fell into another gentleman.
“Miss Matthews! I am coming to rescue you, ma’am. Kindly let me through, please.”
Finally, enough people moved to the side (likely in order to avoid being unceremoniously shoved about) to allow Lord Eldredge to rush through to her side and assist her to her feet.
“You’ve given me quite the scare, Miss Matthews. I’ll return you home immediately.”
She brushed the dirt and leaves off her walking dress and frowned at the small tear along the hem. She’d have to fix that before Meg caught sight of it. “That will be quite unnecessary, my lord,” she said off-handedly. “I intend to stay until I’m certain young Laura will recover.”
The girl had only just come around again and seemed to have no serious injuries. Still, Jane had no intention of leaving just yet.
Lord Eldredge took her by the elbow, however, and attempted to lead her away from the throng. “I must insist, ma’am. His Grace is counting on me to ensure your safety. You must be returned to your chaperone at once.”
By this point, they had reached the far edge of the gathering. Jane pulled her arm free from the over-eager man’s grasp. “My safety, sir,” she said with far more force, not to mention volume, than she intended, “might have been better looked after if you had assisted me with rescuing that girl.”
Several pairs of eyes turned in their direction, obviously making note of every word she uttered as fuel for the gossip mill. Drat, she had gone and made a cake of herself again. But she’d already built up a full head of steam, so there could be no stopping now.
“My safety would surely have been better ensured had you, a gentleman who has clearly had more experience working with horses than I have, been so thoughtful as to have done the rescuing yourself. But you did not, sir. You ran for cover and watched while I took matters into my own hands. I rather think my safety is quite fine without your assistance. Good day to you, Lord Eldredge.” She spun on her heels and marched back toward the crowd around Laura, many of whom stood gawking at her.
“But Miss Matthews—” He put out a hand in an attempt to stop her progress again, but she shook him free and continued her forward progress.
“But who will see you home, madam?” His voice sounded weak, almost pathetic, to her ears.
Lord Pottinger stepped out from the crowd and bowed low to her. “My companions and I would be delighted to see you home at your convenience, Miss Matthews.”
From the other side of the gathering, Patience and Theodora Marlborough moved into a clearing. “Miss Matthews, my sister and I were hoping to visit with Lady Sophia and Lady Charlotte this afternoon. It would be no trouble at all to add one more to our party.”
Several others of her brief acquaintance made similar offers, thereby nullifying Lord Eldredge’s arguments. With a crestfallen, dejected look, he stepped back from her and inclined his head. “Very well. I see you’ll be quite well looked after, ma’am.” He made an awkward bow to the group as a whole, and backed away, heading toward some bushes off to the side. “Good day to you.”
How odd. The bushes moved, as though something had disturbed them, but there wasn’t even a slight breeze this afternoon. Jane shook her head. She must have imagined it.
Well. Perhaps she had—finally—convinced Lord Eldredge to seek a match elsewhere.
Gracious, it had taken a lot.
Chapter Nine
Yet again, down the hall from Peter’s library, something was causing a stir. Devil take it. As it was, he’d resorted to using trickery with his mother in order to accomplish some of his business matters. Only that very afternoon, in fact.
He needed to meet with Yeats again, somehow, in order to discuss the problems at Carreg Mawr. In all of the time Peter had devoted to poring over the books, meager as that amount of time may be, he had discovered nothing—nothing!—out of place. Not one crop had gone unaccounted for, not one wage seemed out of line. There was seemingly no reason for the discrepancies.
But still, there must be some explanation.
Carreg Mawr had always produced far more income than was required in upkeep. Even before he’d taken over the running of the old castle and estate from his father and introduced new crops to the home farm, it had proven itself quite profitable.
So Peter had gone to visit with Yeats at his London office to discuss receive a report from a new worker—or rather someone investigating matters for Peter, while under the guise of being a new worker—in Wales. He’d allowed Mama to think he was paying social calls to some unnamed females he might consider courting in order to gain the bit of freedom to accomplish his task. What she didn’t know, after all, wouldn’t hurt him.
It wasn’t entirely a lie. But it was most decidedly an omission of the truth. Blast it. Something as relatively minor as neglecting to tell his mother the full truth, even at his thirty-two years of age, grated on his last nerve.
So he’d taken care of his business and allowed Mama to think what she would. At least he had until he ran into Miss Matthews on his way home, out for a stroll in Hyde Park with Eldredge.
Why was he so blasted envious of the man? Peter couldn’t possibly want to spend more time with that woman than he was already forced to spend. There was no reasonable answer for the ugly mass of envy that had snaked its way through his body at the sight of Miss Matthews on Eldredge’s arm. Jealousy had consumed every fiber of his body when he found them with her hand holding his arm. It had burned through him so fast, he was amazed his curricle hadn’t burst into flame right there on the street for the entire world to see.
He had wanted to throttle the minx, too, when she’d refused to come home with him like a reasonable lady after she’d fainted. Damnably independent, that one was. He would be glad to be rid of her. Eldredge seemed to be eager to snap her up, so perhaps Peter would be rid of Miss Matthews sooner than expected. That should make his life a bit more normal at least.
If only the thought consoled him as it should, instead of making him want to rip Eldredge apart, limb from bloody
limb.
But how could she be so afraid of horses of all things? He shook his head, remembering how she’d paled before him as she’d watched his pair, just before collapsing into a heap beside her escort.
An escort who ought to have caught her. Bastard.
Good lord, Peter needed to get her out of his head. Maybe he should take up a mistress, or at least avail himself of the services so freely offered to him by one of several widows about town. He merely needed a woman—any appropriate woman other than that particular woman—to slake his desires.
She was as thoroughly inappropriate as any lady could possibly be.
He should never have kissed her. Just the thought of what would have happened if someone had caught them when he kissed her was enough to send him into a mild state of panic. They would be well on their way to the altar by now, if not already married.
Honestly, could any female in Town be less prepared to become his duchess? Peter held serious doubts.
A peal of laughter rang through the halls again, so he decided to do what any reasonable man would eschew—he went to the drawing room to discover what could possibly have the females of his home so excited.
When he arrived, not only had Miss Matthews returned—sans Eldredge, he noted with a touch more glee than he ought to have had—but the Misses Marlborough had also joined the melee.
The elder Miss Marlborough was in the midst of recounting some delightful—or dreadful, depending on who was making the determination—adventure from the day. Not a soul in the room had noticed Peter’s presence, and he had no asinine (to borrow Miss Matthews’s term) desire to alert them of his appearance, so he leaned against the door frame and listened to her rapturous tale.
“And then—Sophie, I declare you won’t believe this part, but on my honor, it is entirely true—then Jane dashed in front of the horse! The poor girl had taken a faint in the saddle and fallen from it, but her foot was trapped in the stirrup, and Jane somehow convinced the wild horse to stop long enough for her to work the girl’s ankle free. No one else dared to go near the animal in fear they would be trampled.”
A chorus of shocked gasps filled the humming air of the drawing room.
Obviously she must be speaking of some other Jane than Miss Matthews. Peter racked his brain to remember if there had been some other young lady at Hyde Park who might be a Jane, but he remembered no ladies at all save the one in question.
He must be even more distracted than he thought.
But it was impossible for her to have done anything of the sort. For Christ’s sake, she had fainted dead away herself only moments earlier, simply from the sight of his pair.
He refrained from snorting aloud in derision and returned his attention to the young woman’s tale.
“And when Lord Eldredge rushed to her side—long after any need for his assistance had long since passed, I might add—he tried to drag her away before she could ascertain that the girl was all right. Of course, our Jane let the odious man know in no uncertain terms that she could see herself home quite well, thank you very much, and then bade him good day.”
Our Jane? But, how?
“You did not, Jane!” Charlotte said, clearly scandalized by the thought. “But he is sweet on you. Have you no care for his sensibilities?”
“What utter nonsense,” Sophie interjected. “Why should Jane concern herself with his sensibilities when he clearly didn’t care one whit either for her safety or for that of the poor girl?”
“Honestly,” Miss Matthews said, lifting her hands as though to deflect attention, “I could not care less if the man is sweet on me, or if I have hurt his tender sensibilities, or anything else.”
“Of course you care,” his mother said. “He’s quite eligible, Jane, you mustn’t forget that. I do hope you’ve not ruined your chances—”
“Ruined my chances? Good gracious, if rescuing that girl is enough to ‘ruin my chances’ I think I’m far better off being ruined. Particularly if Lord Eldredge is the sum total of my chances!”
The orange ball of fluff that was so often planted upon her lap chose that moment to jump up and resume its customary position. The animal’s purrs reached Peter’s ears from across the room. Gracious that animal could be loud when it wanted to be.
“Jane,” his mother admonished. “You are here to find a husband, you know.”
“But must I accept the first man who makes an offer? Even if he is entirely unacceptable?”
Makes an offer? Peter perked up at that. Had the cad already proposed without first speaking to him?
“You don’t think he’s so terrible, do you?” a bewildered Charlotte asked. “He is rather handsome, I believe, and he would be a fantastic match for nearly any lady—quite advantageous.”
“You feel that every gentleman you see is rather handsome,” Sophie countered.
“Well, he is. And he is a viscount. His peerage is one of the oldest and most respected in the kingdom, too, and has been in the same line for an age. He could hardly be better respected. And he’s dashingly handsome on top of it all!”
“There are far more important matters to consider than how good looking a gentleman is when choosing a husband,” Sophie said cut in quietly. “If one must choose a husband at all.”
“Which,” Mama interrupted with a raised brow, “any reasonable young lady must. You might take note of that yourself, dear.” She gave Sophie a rather pointed look.
And then received six pairs of eyes rolling up toward the ceiling in return.
“Well you must. It’s simply how it is done. But,” Mama said, allowing a pregnant pause to fill the room, “I suppose it would be best for you to still be available on the marriage mart when your come-out ball arrives, Jane. It simply would not do to immediately follow that with an engagement ball. Or, heaven forbid, to have to put on the engagement ball before your come-out.”
Miss Matthews exhaled an audible sigh of relief. “Precisely what I was thinking, Cousin Henrietta.”
Precisely, indeed. What on earth had Eldredge done to inspire such obvious aversion in her that she would be relieved at that answer, and that she would give him the cut direct in public?
And, even more perplexing, why was he so damned pleased with that result, when he desired to see her married off sooner rather than later?
He must have growled out loud, because every eye in the room turned to face him.
“Oh, Peter,” Mama said. “How long have you been standing there? Come in, come in. Take a seat here beside me, if you please.”
The side of the love seat she had indicated would place him next to Miss Matthews. He felt the desire to groan again rather too keenly, but few options remained. “Ladies.” He inclined his head to the room in general. “I trust you are enjoying yourselves this afternoon.” Peter directed his statement toward the Marlborough sisters in an effort to avoid looking Miss Matthews in the eye.
His mother chose to answer for them all. “Why, yes. We’re having a lovely discussion on the necessity of marriage. You had wonderful timing, son. I was hoping to learn which lovely young lady has caught your eye enough that you paid her a call today.”
“Er...well, truth be told, I met with my solicitor this morning.” Why could she not have given him a bit more time to come up with a better response?—one where she would not discover that he’d neglected to tell her everything accurately earlier.
“Oh,” she said, disappointment ringing in the single syllable. “Well, you’ll simply have to pay calls to two young ladies tomorrow afternoon then, since it’s nearly time to dress for the evening. We mustn’t be late for Lady Kearsey’s entertainment, you know.”
Peter dragged a hand through his hair. “Mama, I promised you I would do my best to find a bride this Season. I am doing so. I won’t stand for you ordering me about in my own home in front of guests, however.”
She gave him an imperious look. “As long as you are my son, I’ll order you about on any matter which I feel to be in your best interest,
and that is all there is to say on the subject. I daresay the Marlborough sisters have heard me give the lot of you far more blistering set-downs than that was.”
Well, that was the truth. That didn’t make it any better, though. He was the deuced Duke of Somerton, and his mother was treating him like a simpleton. Damn, if he wasn’t going to allow it, too.
Mama stood and placed her embroidery down on the table next to her, then turned to the Marlborough sisters. “I do apologize, ladies. My son has proven himself tactless, and I’m unwilling to listen to any more of his excuses. Will we be seeing you two tonight, Miss Marlborough?”
The elder sister nodded. “Yes, Your Grace. Mother will be there with us.”
“Excellent. If you’ll excuse me, please.” And then she swept through the open doorway and out of sight.
Blast it. He’d have to pay calls to three ladies tomorrow just to make it up to Mama for that one. The thought of just a single visit was enough to sour his stomach at the moment…but three? His mood turned dark, black. He wanted to plant his fist through a wall, or better yet, through Eldredge’s face.
Not that Peter could blame the viscount for his current temper. Well, not entirely. Good Lord, he never lost his temper. That seemed to have changed drastically since the arrival of Miss Matthews.
Miss Marlborough stood, her face a full blush as she stared at him. “Theodora, we truly must be on our way now. Why, look at the time! Mother will be wondering what’s taken us so long. Come along.”
The tension in the room had grown so heavy it would take three burly men to lift it.
Miss Theodora frowned up at her older sister, seemingly oblivious to the tension bursting at the seams of the room. “But she won’t expect us for at least another twenty minutes, Patience. Charlotte and I have yet to talk alone.”
“You’ll simply have to wait until tomorrow.” Miss Marlborough gathered her reticule and hastily put her gloves back on her hands. “We must be on our way. I’m truly sorry ladies. Your Grace.” She executed a brief and clumsy curtsy, and half-dragged her younger sister behind her out the door.
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