by Gayle Buck
Lucinda had risen to extend her slim hand to her unexpected visitor. “Lord Potherby, this is a surprise. I had no notion that you were in London.”
Lord Potherby bowed with punctilious care over her fingers, releasing them after a slight press. “I am not at all astonished to hear you say so, my lady. I had no notion myself that I would be coming up to town until two days ago.” He laughed heartily in recalling his own astonishment at such an extraordinary deviation of character.
“I do not believe that you have met my companion. Miss Tibby Blythe,” said Lucinda.
Lord Potherby bowed to Miss Blythe. They exchanged polite greetings. Miss Blythe would have risen to offer her hand, but his lordship waved her back. “No, no, pray do not stir yourself, ma’am. It is a pleasure to see a lady working her embroideries. I would not for the world disturb your efforts.”
Miss Blythe smiled and graciously acknowledged his lordship’s consideration. “It is a comfortable habit, my lord.”
“Won’t you be seated, Lord Potherby?” Lucinda suggested. She sat down herself, knowing that his lordship would not take a chair while there was a lady still standing.
Lord Potherby bowed and made himself comfortable in a wing chair. He crossed one leg over the other. Looking about critically, he said, “This is a comfortable room, though a bit rich for my taste. I suppose Lord Mays had the decorating of it?”
“Yes, Lord Mays was a great collector, as you know. He enjoyed having his possessions on display,” said Lucinda. She gestured at the tea service. “May I offer you refreshment, my lord? We had the tea brought in just a few moments ago, so it should not have grown tepid.”
“Don’t mind if I do,” said Lord Potherby, already eyeing the biscuits and heavy plum cake on the serving plate beside the tea service.
As Lucinda poured the tea, she asked his lordship how much sugar he took with it. Lord Potherby ponderously teased her for not recalling just how he liked his tea. “We have been such good friends that I am quite put out that you have forgotten. I had hoped to have made a rather deeper impression upon you, my lady.”
At Lord Potherby’s heavy-handed gallantry, Miss Blythe glanced quickly at Lucinda’s face. His lordship’s manner bespoke some familiarity, and after Lucinda’s rather tepid description of Lord Potherby, Miss Blythe thought that she might be offended by the gentleman. However, there seemed nothing untoward in Lucinda’s pleasant expression. Indeed, there was a smile in her eyes as though she were laughing at a private joke. Miss Blythe wondered then whether Lucinda was as indifferent toward Lord Potherby as she had indicated.
Lucinda handed his lordship’s teacup and saucer to him, saying, “Why, as to that I am certain that we are such good neighbors that you will not take it amiss if I seem careless toward you, my lord! Pray try some of the plum cake. It is quite one of my cook’s best efforts.”
“Thank you, Lady Mays. You are gracious, indeed. It looks quite delicious,” said Lord Potherby, happily commandeering a large piece. He was a man of a few simple passions, and one was a true appreciation for culinary excellencies.
Lucinda launched into a gentle discourse on various topics calculated to entertain a gentleman caller. Lord Potherby responded with flattering attention. At the end of ten minutes, when the plum cake had had significant inroads made into it and Lucinda had twice refilled Lord Potherby’s teacup, she said, “Now tell me, Lord Potherby, how you come to be in town. I am quite curious, for when you last visited me at Carbarry, I seem to recall that you were quite excited by a new irrigation project on your lands.”
“Indeed I was! And the irrigation is going extremely well. You are gracious to inquire, my lady. I am very pleased with the progress that is already being made,” said Lord Potherby, beaming. “There is much more to be accomplished, however, if I am to turn a profit this first year.”
Lucinda lightly folded her hands in her lap. “Then how could you have possibly torn yourself away, my lord?”
Miss Blythe bent her head to her embroidery, trying not to smile. Her former pupil’s attitude was determinedly polite, even friendly, but Miss Blythe could read the signs well enough. Lucinda was on the fidget. She had always had that trick of intertwining her fingers when she could not keep her hands still.
“It is all due to my undying admiration of you, my lady,” said Lord Potherby, bowing from the waist.
“Indeed. How flattering, my lord.”
Chapter Twenty-five
Miss Blythe looked up quickly, hearing the cooling note in Lucinda’s voice.
Lord Potherby was immune to any suspicion that he might be treading on thin ice. “Nothing else could have enticed me away at just this particular juncture, but when I received your mother’s kind letter, and she mentioned how much you were enjoying the Season, I felt that I had to take a jaunt to town myself. I wished to assure myself of your continued well-being, my lady, as well as to reiterate to you the depth of my devotion.”
Lucinda gave a laugh. She shook her head, smiling. Gently, she chided her admirer. “Come, Lord Potherby! Well I know that the conversation of a mere female cannot possibly hold a candle to the fascination inherent in rivets and pipes! You shall surely admit to me in a moment that you are in London to inspect examples of just those things.”
Lord Potherby appeared somewhat abashed. He cleared his throat. “Quite so. You know me too well, my lady.” He recovered his aplomb. “However, while it is true that I have an eye on certain innovative examples, my main object in coming just at this time was to assure you of my continued admiration. I would not wish you to forget me in the frolics offered by society.”
“I doubt that would be possible, my lord,” said Lucinda on a tiny sigh.
Notable needlewoman that she was, Miss Blythe was so startled that she stuck her needle in her finger. She had never thought to hear her former pupil speak with such a note in her voice. It must inevitably give offense.
But Lord Potherby positively beamed at Lady Mays. He had detected nothing of the irony in her ladyship’s words, but instead took them as a compliment to himself. “That is prettily said, my lady! Indeed it is. It quite raises my hopes.”
Lucinda’s expression registered dismay. Fortunately for her, she was saved from having to make a suitable reply when the drawing room door opened and her sister-in-law entered.
Upon seeing that Lucinda and Miss Blythe were not alone, Miss Mays hesitated to enter. “I am sorry. I did not realize ...”
Lucinda rose, saying with relief, “Agnes, pray come in! Here is someone that I should like you to meet. Lord Potherby, this is my sister-in-law, Miss Agnes Mays. She has been staying with me these past several weeks.”
Lord Potherby had immediately risen to his feet upon the advent of the lady. He smiled at her and took the hand that she held out toward him. He made a very correct bow. “Miss Mays, it is a pleasure.”
“Thank you, my lord. I assure you that the sentiment is mutual,” said Miss Mays with only the hint of a nervous stammer.
Lord Potherby looked at her curiously. “It is odd that I do not recall your name, for I was acquainted with your brother, Mays.”
Miss Mays flushed to the roots of her hair. “My brother and I did not get along, my lord,” she said in a low voice, averting her face.
Lord Potherby glanced swiftly at Lady Mays. He was dismayed that he had somehow stepped over the line and put Miss Mays out of countenance.
Lucinda quietly explained, “Agnes resided with her parents, nursing them through their last illnesses for years, and then was with an elderly aunt who lived somewhere in the country. She saw very little of her brother, for she was not a part of the social round that he frequented.”
“I see. You are to be commended, Miss Mays. I doubt that there are few young ladies who would have sacrificed themselves so selflessly,” said Lord Potherby.
Miss Mays’s gaze rose swiftly to meet his lordship’s. Her color was again heightened, but this time not from mortification. She offered a shy smile. “You
are kind to say so, Lord Potherby.”
Lucinda resumed her chair. “We were just taking tea, Agnes. Would you like a cup?”
“Oh, no, thank you, Lady Mays. I am perfectly fine. I came in only to discover whether we were engaged later today, for I had wanted to walk in the park. It is quite sunny and warm this afternoon,” said Miss Mays. She glanced, puzzled, at Lord Potherby. He was still standing before her. She did not realize that Lord Potherby was politely waiting for her to take a seat before he, also, sat down.
“My dear, why do you not sit here beside me? I would be grateful for your help with these tangled yarns. We may then comfortably discuss this excursion to the park,” said Miss Blythe.
Miss Mays’s face lit up. “Oh, do you think that we can, Miss Blythe? I would like it above all things.” She moved to the settee and perched beside Miss Blythe, picking up the tangled yams.
Lord Potherby was at last free to sit back down. “Do you like to walk, Miss Mays?” he inquired politely.
“Oh, yes! I quite like to be out of doors, and it scarcely matters what the weather. But Lady Mays and Miss Blythe will not go out when it is raining or the least bit chilly, so I must wait for a clear day if I am to have their company,” said Miss Mays.
“I, too, enjoy a vigorous tramp out of doors,” said Lord Potherby. “I am made restive if I am inside too long, for I am always wondering what is happening in my fields or with my stock.”
“Lord Potherby is a noted expert in the newest agricultural methods, Agnes. He has just been telling Tibby and me that his latest irrigation project is shaping up to be a success,” said Lucinda.
“Oh, how wonderful for you! You must be very pleased, my lord,” said Miss Mays, glad for him.
“Indeed I am. I shall be happier still when the crops are in the ground and I may turn my attention to my sheep. We will be coming into lambing season soon,” said Lord Potherby. “It is an anxious time, for we sometimes lose the greater portion of the lambs. I do not understand it, nor does anyone else. The ewes often throw too early. Sometimes the ewes die, leaving their offspring. But we shall do what we can and hope for the best, as always.”
“I do hope that you shall not lose a single dear little lamb this time, my lord. How very distressing for you, to be sure! I adore animals of all kinds, and so I can readily enter into your feelings. One’s heart must be wrung with compassion for the dear creatures,” said Miss Mays. “Do you attempt to place the orphans with the ewes that lost their young?”
Lucinda listened to her sister-in-law with astonishment. She had never heard Miss Mays participate in a conversation with anyone with such animation. She looked toward Miss Blythe and that lady raised her brows to indicate her own surprise.
Lord Potherby leaned forward, intent upon Miss Mays’s intelligent question. “Now there you have it in a nutshell, Miss Mays. We have tried any number of times to save the orphans by placing them with ewes whose own lambs were stillborn. But invariably the ewes reject the orphans.”
“Perhaps it is the way the orphans smell. I have noticed that each animal has its own peculiar odor to its coat. If there was some way to persuade the ewe that she was smelling her own baby ...” Miss Mays faltered as she realized that all three of her companions were staring at her. The color rose in her face again. “I... I am sorry. I did not realize. I am rambling on so foolishly.”
“Not at all! Not at all!” exclaimed Lord Potherby. “You have made quite a sensible observation, ma’am. I wonder that I did not think of it myself. I most assuredly must turn this over in my mind, Miss Mays, for I feel certain that you have hit upon the key to the thing.”
Miss Mays uttered a gratified but incoherent acknowledgement of his lordship’s condescension. Fortunately for the saving of her countenance, more callers were announced and all attention was diverted from herself.
Lucinda rose to greet her new callers with some relief. For some minutes she had felt that she had strayed into some strange land, where she and Miss Blythe had somehow become totally inadequate in their conversational skills.
“Lord Pembroke! Lord and Lady Thorpe. How happy I am to see you all,” said Lucinda. She shook hands, and even before she had finished making her greetings, two other gentlemen were shown in. “Lord Levine and Mr. Pepperidge. It is gracious of you both to call. I must make known to you all my friend, Lord Potherby, who has come up to visit.”
Lucinda had not said so, but the implication was that Lord Potherby had come up to London to visit her. Lord Levine and Mr. Pepperidge therefore acknowledged his lordship with cold stares and the barest of bows. They made it their business to monopolize their hostess so that this Potherby fellow would see that Lady Mays did not need any other admirers coming around her.
Miss Blythe did not approve of the gentlemen’s possessive manners, and she determinedly inserted herself into the conversation. She knew her duty well enough, she hoped, not to allow a couple of coxcombs to run roughshod over her dear Lucinda.
Lord Pembroke took in the situation with an amused glance. The two dandies resembled nothing so much as two small dogs tussling over a hearty bone, he thought. He was disinclined to put himself to the trouble of competing for Lady Mays’s favor when it would make him look just as ridiculous, and so he applied himself to entertaining the unremarkable Miss Mays. He had a shrewd notion that he would thus earn Lady Mays’s smiles and at the moment that was a pleasant objective.
Lord Pembroke was too conversant with social niceties to ignore the other people in the room, and he put forth several polite observations to the Thorpes and to Lord Potherby, as well. But he flattered Miss Mays with his attention.
However, Miss Mays did not appear at all gratified. She was reduced to blushing confusion within minutes, and it fell to Lady Thorpe to counter Lord Pembroke’s quick repartee. Lord Thorpe got into the spirit of the thing, and the three quickly formed into a merry trio.
Lord Potherby had been struck with a slight jealousy. It was obvious that Lord Levine and Mr. Pepperidge were on the most civil terms with Lady Mays. However, after a very few minutes he concluded that her ladyship could not possibly prefer those gentlemen’s posturing over his own straightforward admiration, and he was able to rest a little easier.
He enjoyed the light banter between the Thorpes and Lord Pembroke, though he did not always catch the point of everything that was said. However, that was certainly to be expected since he was not familiar with half of the personages to whom they referred.
Lord Potherby noticed that Miss Mays, also, did not seem to follow the roaming conversation very well. “Miss Mays, do you find all this talk as confusing as I do?” he asked with a friendly smile. He was amazed at the expression of gratitude and relief in her soft brown eyes.
“I fear that I do, my lord. I am not at all quick, you see,” she confessed.
“For my part, I prefer a female who is sensible to one whose tongue runs on fiddlesticks,” said Lord Potherby, his gaze resting for a moment on the trio opposite.
Miss Mays glanced quickly at the vivacious Lady Thorpe, and she actually giggled. “Oh, but Lady Thorpe is extremely kind,” she assured his lordship earnestly. “You have no notion how many times she has helped me out of a hideous moment at some function or other. She simply says something in that laughing way that she has, and whomever it was that put me out of countenance is perfectly satisfied. Then I may be comfortable again.”
“Do you not care for London?” asked Lord Potherby, surprised. He had assumed that since she was a Mays that she would naturally gravitate toward the same sort of life that he had known that her brother had led. Perhaps even more so, since she had spent much of her youth caring for others.
Miss Mays shook her head, a despondency at once apparent in the slight sag of her thin shoulders. “I am afraid not. It is a terrible lack in me, for I practically begged dear Lady Mays to let me come to her so that I could experience what living in London was like. I am such a sad trial to her ladyship and Miss Blythe. You can have no noti
on.”
Lord Potherby was astonished. “Are you hinting that Lady Mays and her companion have treated you with less than respect? I would find that very difficult to believe of her ladyship, at least.”
“Oh, no!” Miss Mays was dismayed that he should place such a construction on her words. “Lady Mays and Miss Blythe have been very kind to me. You can have no notion. Why, I have a whole wardrobe of lovely gowns and drawers and drawers of gloves and lace handkerchiefs arid . . . and everything that I could ever possibly need. I am taken to the best parties, and I stand up at nearly every dance. I have even been admitted to Almack’s! But I have no conversation, and I am not in the least clever and I never understand what is said around me. It... it is so very lowering!”
The words had almost poured out of her. Miss Mays was aghast at herself to have confided so much to a perfect stranger and a gentleman at that! She flushed hotly. “Pray forgive me! I never meant to ... that is, sometimes when I do not think beforehand, my tongue rattles away and I never know what I am going to say!”
Lord Potherby gathered her agitated hands between his wide palms. “My dear Miss Mays, I am honored at your confidence. Pray do not be embarrassed, for I have found nothing at all of the least offense in anything that you have told me. On the contrary! I thought you to be a sensible young woman when I met you. That impression has but strengthened. Pray consider me to be a friend, for I shall not betray any confidence that you may honor me with, now or in the future.”
Miss Mays was reduced to blushing pleasure. “Oh, my lord! You are too kind.”
At Lord Potherby’s modest disclaimer, she shook her head quickly. “Oh, but indeed you are! Quite the nicest gentleman that I have up to now met. I do hope that you make a long visit to London.”