“Perhaps not, but it would be easy to convince myself I was in love if the man was a viscount and rich besides.”
“I cannot argue with that, since I can easily imagine you convincing yourself to be in love.”
Felicity glared.
“I am only teasing you. Forgive me.” Leorah did not know what it was like to be poor and without a dowry. She had never been in Felicity’s position and could not definitively say that she would not feel the same.
But Lord Withinghall, in spite of his asking Leorah to marry him, did not truly want to marry her. He preferred Miss Augusta Norbury, and Leorah should be happy for them.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Edward hesitated outside the drawing room where Mrs. Culpepper sat talking with several of the other older ladies. At the ball the previous night, he had talked with Miss Norbury almost exclusively, making it clear what his intentions were. He fully intended to ask Miss Norbury’s guardian to allow him to speak to her privately this morning, as soon as she was dressed.
Now here she was. He started walking toward her, but his feet hesitated, then walked on past.
Never mind. He had plenty of time. Just now he was meeting with Mr. Yarbrough. Edward headed down the stairs and into the library to wait for him.
He did not have to wait long. Mr. Yarbrough entered and greeted him.
“You are early.” Edward motioned for him to sit down.
“You must be recovering well.” Yarbrough looked pointedly at his cane.
“I believe so. What have you found out for me?”
“Sir, you were right about Pinegar.” He spoke in a low voice. “The man was seen talking to a young gentlemanly looking man at the Red Hart Inn where you changed horses. You and Mr. Pugh had gone inside for several minutes. Mr. Pinegar left before you arrived, but the young gentleman was seen loitering about the stables and carriage house while your carriage was there. When the stable master asked him what his business was, he merely nodded, stuck some kind of tool in his saddlebag, mounted his horse, and left.”
“Who was this man? What did he look like?”
“He was described as having light-brown hair with a hint of red or auburn, and he was rather tall and well built, and exceptionally handsome.”
“That sounds very much like someone who is here now at Glyncove Abbey. A Mr. Geoffrey Hastings.” Could Hastings be doing Pinegar’s dirty work? “But we have no proof. Even if the stable master and others could identify him as the man who was milling about the stables, it would not prove he had tampered with the carriage.”
“You are right, of course. But if they are both here, you are not safe.” Yarbrough’s brow creased. “Perhaps you should go home.”
“Nonsense. What better way to catch them in their mischief.”
Mr. Yarbrough frowned.
“Perhaps you could stay here at the party as a guest. You can be my spy. I shall arrange it with the Langdons, and they will be glad to have you here.”
“I would much rather you were home where your people can watch over you. These men are sinister—to tamper with a man’s carriage, killing your driver in the process. Please do not take the threat lightly.”
“You are quite right, Mr. Yarbrough.”
“If you will forgive me for being so bold, sir, I think you should tell your host about this and at least alert him to the danger.”
“I shall. Thank you.” And he would be sure and ask Nicholas Langdon to put his sister on her guard against Mr. Hastings. He shuddered to think of her falling prey to such a devious man, if indeed he was doing Pinegar’s evil bidding.
Edward only hoped all this spying and the threat of danger and people watching over him would not prevent him from proposing to Miss Norbury. A Prime Minister should have a wife, after all, and he might not ever be Prime Minister if he did not have one, and the right one, at that.
Leorah, Felicity, and Elizabeth found themselves having breakfast the next morning with Mr. Hastings, who came into the breakfast room just behind them.
“It appears to be a lovely autumn day,” he said, smiling that charming smile of his.
“Yes, it does,” Leorah agreed. “Should you like to go for a walk in the garden after we have breakfasted?”
“That sounds like an excellent plan, Miss Langdon.”
Half an hour later the ladies found themselves in the garden with Mr. Geoffrey Hastings, with Leorah wondering once again what Mr. Hastings’s fortune might be. But after her father seemed so set on her marrying Lord Withinghall . . . she did not want to be like her father. Why should she care about the man’s fortune?
If only theirs was a world where men and women were judged on their character, not their fortunes.
“This is a very lovely garden, Miss Langdon.” Mr. Hastings bent to inspect a stray rose that was blooming on a trellis along the path. “I can just imagine its beauty in the spring and summer months.”
“Thank you.”
“Every great estate has a garden, of course,” he went on, “but yours has an originality one seldom finds. There is creativity here, along with the unexpected. It rather reminds me . . .” He turned to look into Leorah’s eyes. “If you will forgive my impertinence, it reminds me of you, Miss Langdon.”
“Flattery is still flattery, Mr. Hastings,” Leorah said, “even when it is well done. You mustn’t play upon my vanity.”
“I do not think you vain, Miss Langdon. Besides, I do not consider truth to be flattery.”
Leorah laughed. “And now I shall change the subject of our conversation and ask after your family. Do you have brothers and sisters? A father and mother about whose health I might inquire?”
“I do indeed have two sisters and a brother, but my father has been dead these ten years. My mother and brother live in Shropshire, and my sisters are lately married, having wed two brothers, and reside in London. And as of two weeks ago, they were all in good health.”
“Ah, now we have much more interesting material for conversation than complimenting me. We have your two sisters, brother, and mother.”
“I shall do my best to entertain you, Miss Langdon, though my family is not terribly interesting. My father was the solicitor for Mr. Felton Pinegar and old Mr. Pinegar, his father before him, until my father’s death. My two sisters married attorneys in London, and my brother is destined for the church, through Mr. Pinegar’s patronage.”
So Mr. Hastings’s family was not wealthy. What was Mr. Hastings’s profession, or future profession? It was not polite to ask him.
After a short silence, Mr. Hastings said, “I have a notion to buy my commission in the army, but my mother has been loath to allow it, especially with the way things are at present between our country and France.”
“That is certainly understandable,” Leorah said. “She does not wish to lose you.”
Felicity and Elizabeth were gazing up at Mr. Hastings. Indeed, it was difficult not to stare at him. He had such an earnest expression on his face, such an amiable smile, to go along with his perfect features. His white neckcloth was tied in a fashionable style, and he wore a yellow waistcoat, brown jacket, and cream-colored breeches. He obviously had excellent taste, just as a young man of style should.
“Yes, she will be expecting me home again after I have enjoyed your family’s hospitality for the next fortnight.”
They spoke some more of the garden, the weather, and Mr. Hastings frequently brought Felicity and even timid Elizabeth into the conversation. He was everything gentlemanly, even showing concern for Elizabeth when she coughed.
“It is nothing,” she assured him.
“Perhaps we should go inside. I would not want you to get a chill.”
Felicity and Elizabeth were able to assure him that the day was warm enough, and their wraps would protect them from any breezes, so they continued their walk. He looked vaguely annoyed. Had he hoped Felicity and Elizabeth would go inside and leave them alone together? It would not be surprising for a young man such as him, with no for
tune, to try to compromise a lady such as Leorah who was in possession of a fortune. But he was mistaken if he thought Leorah was so foolish as to allow such a thing.
Though Felicity would probably tell her she was thinking cynically again.
“The auspicious viscount is looking well for having been in such a dire carriage accident,” Mr. Hastings suddenly remarked. “And I have heard rumors that you were also in the same carriage accident, Miss Langdon, though I never put any confidence in gossip.”
“I’m afraid that much of the rumor is true.” Leorah was rather relieved at being able to explain the gossip to him. “I happened to be riding my horse near the road when he threw me. Lord Withinghall was driving by with his coachman and stopped to offer assistance. We were in the carriage when it overturned, and his poor coachman was killed.”
“Ghastly.” Mr. Hastings’s brow furrowed as he stopped and gave her his full attention.
“Quite. And Lord Withinghall’s leg was broken. I tried to catch the horses but without success. We were forced to wait for help in the overturned carriage as it began to rain. That is where Mr. Pinegar himself and our rector, Mr. Moss, found us. I’m sure you can imagine what the gossips would say about such a thing, but there was no impropriety at all, I assure you, with poor Lord Withinghall’s leg broken, and me with a broken wrist.”
“Yes, I had noticed you wore a splint on your wrist.”
“It does not pain me at all, but our family physician will not allow me to go without it, I’m afraid, not for a few more weeks.”
“I am heartily sorry the viscount’s carriage was unable to convey you home in safety. To think that a viscount’s carriage should be so unsound. But then, he is known for his extreme frugality. The man is so severe, I pity poor Miss Norbury, should she marry him. He’ll probably not allow her a new gown once in five years.”
Felicity gasped, then giggled. Elizabeth’s eyes grew wide, and her cheeks turned pink. Leorah bit her lip, trying not to laugh.
“Now, now,” she said, unable to hold back a smile. “He is not so very severe. Have you not noticed that he no longer dresses only in black?”
“Come, Miss Langdon. You are being too kind. Just because he has purchased a new coat and has a new valet who actually knows how to tie a neckcloth in the latest style does not make him a fashionable man or change the fact that he is the most severe member of the aristocracy that England could possibly boast. You would think the man had no personal fortune at all when, on the contrary, he is one of the richest men in England.”
“He is wealthy, to be sure, but he also donates much of his income to charity.”
“And why should he not? The very rich have little else to do with their time than visit charities and make a show of their contributions.”
He said the words with the same polite smile he wore when bestowing a compliment on Leorah—except for a furtive twist of one corner of his mouth. His words were accurate enough to make her start to laugh, but yet Lord Withinghall did not deserve the censure.
“No, no, I cannot agree with you. The viscount spends his time more productively than that. He works to support laws that will improve the lives of all men and women of the realm, and not every rich man is so charitable. Surely you can acquiesce to that.”
“Miss Langdon, you cause me to fear that you have tender feelings for the man. He is planning to marry Miss Norbury, is he not? Forgive me.”
He quickly stepped closer to her and held out his hands, palms up.
“That was ungracious in the extreme. I should not have dared . . . that is, I do not mean to cast any disparagement on you, Miss Langdon. You are everything that is just and good and do not wish me to malign an honest man. You are quite right. I allowed myself to say too much about the viscount.”
It was true. He had allowed himself to say too much. His expression was so contrite, his eyes pleading.
“I forgive you, but you should repent of your ill will toward the man, for though he may not have as pretty manners as you, he is a good and honest man at heart, I believe.”
Was this truly Leorah? Was she defending Lord Withinghall after the ill will she herself had felt toward him in the past? But though the viscount was a bit severe, he was far from being all bad. And he had done her a service, more than once. She supposed she would have a soft spot in her heart for any man who had proposed marriage to her and had taken her refusal with such good grace.
“Oh, I was not repenting of my opinion of him. I was repenting of accusing you of having tender feelings for the man. It was wrong of me, when you, of course, would want to distance yourself from him and from the rumors. I do not believe you have done anything wrong, and I would not accuse you of anything.”
“Do you feel so harshly toward the viscount? Has he done something to make you dislike him so much?”
“He has caused the reputation of an honest, innocent girl to be tarnished. And he has thwarted my family’s good friend, Mr. Pinegar, in his ambitions in Parliament. That would be enough, but to this I would also add, he has for far too long been a blight on society with his lack of fashion sense.”
Felicity and Elizabeth wandered a few steps away to exclaim over an abandoned bird’s nest in a bush.
“Now you are in jest,” Leorah said.
“Perhaps. But I reserve the right to disapprove of the fashion sense of anyone as wealthy as the viscount. And I do, most heartily, disapprove of his harming my old friend Pinegar.” He leaned toward her, a sudden seriousness on his face, and his smile vanished. “And I would hate”—he emphasized the latter word—“anyone who harmed you, Miss Langdon.”
“He has not harmed me, I assure you. The fault was not his, but that of his carriage, for breaking apart. As well as the gossipmongers amongst us, I’m afraid. So if you must disapprove of Lord Withinghall, you cannot do it on my account.” She smiled into Mr. Hastings’s charming face.
“Generous, lovely girl. Very well, I shall not hold your endangered reputation against him.” He stared straight into Leorah’s eyes in a most disarming manner, stepping quite close to her and lowering his voice to a whisper. “If I were him, I would not have given you up. No man who perceived your great worth would have refrained from proposing marriage to you after compromising you the way he did. I would have pursued you with great passion and proclamations of undying love.”
He was looking into her eyes with the most intense, even pained, expression, and he reached out and squeezed her hand in both of his.
Leorah cleared her throat. “Why, Mr. Hastings, I would almost think you were practicing your lines for a theatrical.” She gently extricated her hand and turned away from him, her heart pounding unnaturally fast.
Thankfully, Felicity and Elizabeth were coming back toward them, chattering about the bird’s nest and what type of bird they imagined had built it.
Not chancing a glance in Mr. Hastings’s direction, Leorah said, “You all should see the wilder part of the park. There is even a waterfall and a rocky pool, which is stocked with some brightly colored fish. I forget what they are called.”
She was rambling. Was Mr. Hastings half in love with her, as his fervor seemed to indicate? Should she not have defended Lord Withinghall more strenuously? Was Mr. Hastings justified in his low opinion of the viscount? Or did he simply want her to see the contrast between himself and Lord Withinghall? She did not have time to untangle the strands of her thoughts just now. Besides, she and Felicity and Elizabeth should be able to enjoy the company of a handsome young man without scrutinizing every word he said.
As for Lord Withinghall, he was only using their party to propose to Miss Norbury, and then she’d have no reason to ever see him again. Why should she miss her chance to enjoy a harmless flirtation with Mr. Hastings?
Leorah spent the next two days entertaining her guests. She did not end up in any sort of private conversation with him, but Mr. Hastings frequently included himself in her group as they went for walks, made conversation, or played and sang at
the pianoforte. He had a rather good voice and lent it for a duet with Leorah on more than one occasion. And he also sang a few times with Miss Norbury, whose voice even Leorah had to admit was better than her own.
Lord Withinghall could not walk far with his injured leg, but he often joined them in the music room or the drawing room. He always sat near Miss Norbury, but Leorah sometimes found him eyeing her.
A few days after the house party began, Nicholas stopped her in the hall.
“There you are. I have something to say to you.” He pulled her into the breakfast room. “I have two pieces of news. First I shall say that Julia is going to have a baby.” Nicholas grinned.
“Oh! That is wonderful!” Leorah’s insides fluttered with excitement. “I shall be an aunt again! Oh, Julia is so sweet. She might actually let me hold the baby, unlike Isabella, who is always afraid I might make Marianne sick. Oh, I’m so happy!”
Her brother Jonathan’s wife was so paranoid, Leorah rarely got to hold her own niece.
“Yes, well, Julia is not feeling so well at present, but the doctor says that is nothing to be alarmed about.”
“That must be why I haven’t seen much of her lately.”
“But I have something else to tell you.”
“But a baby, Nicholas! Can you believe it? Are you not excited?”
“I shall be more excited when the business is over.”
“You must not fret. Julia shall have a healthy, happy baby, and you shall be the proudest father in England.”
“I pray it will be so. But you must be quiet and listen to me. Lord Withinghall—” He stopped and stuck his head out into the hall, then closed the door and glanced around the room. He lowered his voice. “The viscount has reason to believe that Mr. Pinegar may have been behind the tampering done to his carriage that resulted in the carriage overturning. And furthermore, he wanted me to warn you about Mr. Hastings, who may have been the one who did the actual tampering.”
“What do you mean? How could Mr. Hastings have had anything to do with that? Did Lord Withinghall tell you to warn me about the man? I knew he was paying a lot of attention to me every time I was in Mr. Hastings’s company, but I would not have thought that he would stoop so low as to try to disparage the man just because—”
A Viscount's Proposal (The Regency Spies of London Book 2) Page 15