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High Garth

Page 19

by Mira Stables


  Patrick laughed and promised to consult with Will on this vital point. Which reminded him to tell her the news about Will and Bridie.

  “Dear Bridie!” said the girl affectionately. “I shall be so happy to see her again. She was so very kind to me.” Her thoughts turned to the evening when Bridie had told their fortunes and her eyes widened a little. “So many of the things she told me have come true,” she said, striving to recall the details that she had so lightly dismissed. “Why! She even said something about going down into the dark waters. I suppose that means the Gullet—or perhaps being so frightened,” she finished thoughtfully. And then her face lit to eagerness and she exclaimed, “Oh! Perhaps she’ll be able to tell me how many chil—” And broke off, scarlet with confusion, as her glance fell on the absorbed faces of her audience.

  Fortunately her step-papa, who had been champing impatiently over this long digression about people who meant nothing to him, plunged into the breach by demanding loudly when the wedding was to be and where they proposed to be married.

  Patrick turned to Ann. “That is for you to say, my love, though I hope you do not mean to keep me waiting too long.”

  She hesitated. Her cheeks were still burning, her own incautious remark still sounding in her ears. If she said what she longed to say, they would all smile again.

  Janet, deeply interested herself, was nevertheless affronted that such lowly members of the household as the twins, not to mention Robert, who wasn’t even one of them, should be permitted to witness so intimate a scene. She seized upon Ann’s hesitation to say quietly, “Maybe you’d rather discuss that in the parlour, Miss Ann. It’s high time we got this kitchen redded up or there’ll be no dinner for any of you.”

  At which point a small voice said, “What about me?”

  Philip, forgotten in the general excitement, stood his ground bravely, determined to know the worst. Patrick dropped a hand on his shoulder and said gravely, “You will give me your word of honour as a gentleman that you will not again go into the caves without first consulting me.”

  Philip seemed to add an inch to his stature. “I give you my word,” he said clearly, eyes huge with the solemnity of his new dignity.

  His brother grinned and tousled his head. “You’re forgiven then,” he said. “Be off and give Jigs a good currying. And when we go back to the Court, it’s school for you, my lad. There’s a good one in Dent Town. You can ride in every day.”

  So much excitement was too much for Philip to contain. He bounded off to tell Jigs all about it.

  In the parlour Patrick turned expectantly to Ann. “Well, my darling?”

  She smiled at him. “As soon as it can be arranged,” she said simply. “St. Andrew’s?”

  St. Andrew’s was the little church in Dent Town. On being apprised of this, Mr. Fortune said explosively, “Well! I should think your uncle will have something to say about that His heir to be married in such haste and such a hugger-mugger fashion. If ever I met such a mad-brained pair! Why! I’m sure his lordship would lend his Town house for such an occasion and do the thing in prime style.”

  “Which is just what we don’t want,” said Patrick smoothly, avoiding Ann’s face of bewildered enquiry. “A quiet wedding with all our friends about us. My uncle will be very welcome if he chooses to honour us. And you’ll come, won’t you, sir, despite your disapproval? And as soon as we’re wed, we’ll come home to High Garth,” he promised Ann.

  The indignant Mr. Fortune then announced that he washed his hands of the whole affair and would leave them to make their own plans, and, with unexpected tact, took himself off to the kitchen, where, for lack of any other confidant he poured out his complaints to the sympathetic Janet.

  Patrick acted swiftly. Before Ann could utter a syllable he stopped her mouth with kisses. Not until she clung, warm and pliant in his arms, did he draw back a little, and then his remarks were nicely calculated to rob her of any remaining breath.

  “You’re really rather nice to kiss, now that you’ve washed the mud off your face,” he told her kindly. “You must remind me to try it again some time.”

  A tiny choke of laughter escaped her, but she made a quick recover. “Thank you, sir. You are much too good,” she told him demurely, “but I would not dream of presuming so far. And now, perhaps, you will be so kind as to tell me who is this uncle who is so important? Whose heir you are?”

  Opportunities for laughter and teasing had been rare enough in Patrick’s life. This one was irresistible. “My uncle?” he enquired, in a tone of innocent surprise. “Why—he is my father’s brother, you know. His elder brother,” he elaborated conscientiously. “My mother, too, had only the one brother, the uncle who bequeathed me High Garth, so this one is my only surviving uncle. He and my father were”—

  He was rudely interrupted. Two small hands were now twisted in his hair, tugging and shaking unmercifully so that he was forced to sue for peace.

  “Very well. Now tell me properly,” said the lady sternly.

  “But it was all true,” protested the sinner plaintively. “He was my father’s only brother. But because he is the elder, he is the Earl of Encliffe. And because he and his wife are unfortunately childless, I am his heir. Which is why Papa Fortune was making such a bother.”

  She stared at him in some dismay, remembering the gentleman who had singled her out with so much kindness at Barbara’s wedding. So that was why he had shown such interest in the affairs of High Garth. And unless the Countess was very much younger than her husband it did, indeed, seem probable that Patrick would in due course succeed to the title.

  “But I don’t think I want to be a Countess,” she said slowly.

  “Well, if it comes to that, I didn’t want to marry an heiress,” said Patrick reasonably. “But it’s surprising how quickly one can accustom oneself, once the fatal step is taken. I’ll be honest and confess that I’m beginning to like the idea pretty well, now that I’m getting used to it. Just think of all the things we’ll be able to do for the Court and for Philip and”—he hugged her joyously—“for all those children you were so indiscreet as to suggest.”

  She shook her head at him, blushing again, but she laughed. He said, on a suddenly serious note, “That’s if you really mean it. If you really prefer the kind of life I’d dreamed of. I find it hard to believe. But then I find you hard to believe. That you should have happened to me, I mean.” And realizing that he was becoming slightly incoherent, he explained himself in more direct fashion.

  When she had breath enough Ann said, “Of course I meant it, goose. You know how I’ve loved being at High Garth. And being your wife will make it quite perfect. Then I shall feel that I’m really a part of it. Although I fell in love with the Court at first sight, I shall leave a bit of my heart at High Garth.”

  Well you won’t have to leave it just yet,” said Patrick cheerfully. “Conroy’s lease isn’t up till Lady Day. You’ve still to face a winter here. And despite Janet’s gloomy warnings and Philip’s fears, I think you’ll like it. Plenty to do, plans to be made, and fi we’re snowned up—which we frequently are—a little world of our own. Just think of it! No morning callers—no bride visits—heaven!”

  “Well it’s much more my idea of heaven than being a Countess,” admitted his betrothed.

  “And I’ll have no more complaints on that score,” announced this newly confident Patrick. “You said, bless you, that all you wanted was to share my life. And so you shall. While I am a farmer, you’re a farmer’s wife. But fi chance makes me an Earl, then it makes you a Countess. I daresay we shall learn to like it well enough with practice. But meanwhile there’s our marriage to arrange and then a whole peaceful winter in our private kingdom. And if the time should chance to hang heavily on our hands in the long winter evenings,” he ended mischievously, “we can always get Bridie to look into the future for us!”

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