Andrea Pickens - [Lessons in Love 02] (13 page)

"I don't believe I made any such accusation," he replied, returning the packet to her hands. "I see no harm in Max expanding his education to include matters of a more practical nature. One never knows when such things may come in handy." He fixed his son with a level gaze. "Naturally, I have your word that you will not take advantage of my trust and trespass where you know you should not be."

"Oh, yes, sir."

"Good." The earl returned to his paper, quite satisfied with how he had handled the situation.

Yes, he thought to himself, it was doing the lad good to take an interest in things other than his studies. Already there was a new spark of enthusiasm about him that had been lacking until—well, until the new tutor had arrived. He quickly pushed aside that disquieting thought. It was merely the frisson of adventure that had the lad's eyes agleam. It would be the same in London, with new sights and new acquaintances at every turn. Just because he, too, had a new spring in his step was no reason to admit that life had been a touch flat until the arrival of Mrs. Proctor and her madcap schemes.

He frowned and turned the page with rather more force than necessary, causing Max and Allegra to exchange puzzled glances. The notion of a new spring in his step made him uncomfortably aware of the debt of gratitude he owed her. For the first time in an age he had slept soundly, and this morning his knee was indeed less stiff and painful. And how was he to repay her? By sacking her from a position for which she was eminently qualified? Remembering her remark on prejudiced minds only exacerbated his darkening mood.

Leaving his shirred eggs and bacon untouched, he rose abruptly and left the room without a word to either of them.

* * *

Allegra watched him depart with a look of consternation. She had been about to ask after his leg, but the look on his face forestalled any questioning. Good lord, the man was quixotic, pleasant one moment, irritable as a wounded bear the next. There seemed to be no understanding him—not that it mattered. She wouldn't be around long enough for it to make any difference whether she could fathom the Earl of Wrexham's strange moods.

A short while later, she and Max were crossing from the main entrance and heading for the broad path bordered on either side by tall boxwood hedges leading down through the formal gardens.

"Why don't we practice on the old gate leading down to the rose garden?" suggested Max. "The years of rust will only add to the challenge."

The sound of carriage wheels on the gravel drive interrupted Allegra's reply. Both of them turned to observe who was approaching. A smart black phaeton, its wheels and trim picked out in a shade of dark yellow tooled around the bend, drawn by a perfectly matched pair of greys. Max stopped and a smile broke out on his face as he waved a greeting to the fashionably dressed driver.

"Good day, Lord Bingham. Father didn't tell me you were planning a visit."

The gentleman drew his team to a halt by the main entrance and jumped down from his perch with an easy grace, motioning for the groom to lead the horses away. "Halloo, Max. Some urgent business has come up near the border that requires my presence. I'm afraid I sent no warning of my coming, and I must be off again in the morning." His gaze subtly shifted to the stranger and his eyebrow raised a fraction. "I hope this isn't an... inconvenient time."

"I'm sure Father will be delighted to see you," exclaimed Max. Quickly remembering his manners, he turned to Allegra. "Lord Bingham, may I present my, er, my new tutor, Mrs. Proctor. Mrs. Proctor, this is Lord Bingham, one of father's oldest friends."

Lord Bingham swept the curly brimmed beaver hat from his golden locks and inclined a bow in her direction. "A pleasure, Mrs. Proctor." He was much too well-bred to express any overt surprise at Max's announcement, but his eyes fairly danced with interest as he took in Allegra's tall, willowy form and the errant honeyed curls that had eluded the severe bun at the nape of her neck. "You have sympathy, ma'am," he said with a grin. "I have known Max since he was in the cradle, and I know what you are up against. I am glad to see that he occasionally releases you from the schoolroom."

In spite of her opinions concerning titled gentlemen, Allegra found herself responding with a smile to his open countenance and friendly manner. "Oh, Max and I have come to an understanding which I believe is mutually agreeable to both of us. I assure you, I do not let him bully me overly."

He regarded her thoughtfully for a moment, then spoke to Max. "Your father is ensconced in the library, no doubt?"

Max nodded.

"Good lord, Leo is in danger of becoming a dull old dog. Come, let's roust him and have a good gallop before luncheon—that is, if I am not interrupting lessons?"

"I believe Max will suffer no ill-effect by putting off his... current studies until a later date," said Allegra.

Lord Bingham winked at Max. "You know, I found my lessons deucedly boring, but I did not have the advantage of such an amiable tutor."

Max grinned. "Oh, Mrs. Proctor is never boring, I assure you."

Once more, Lord Bingham bowed politely to Allegra. "That is an extraordinary compliment, ma'am, coming from Max. I look forward to hearing more about the progress of his studies."

He and Max then took their leave and she watched the two of them head back to the Hall, a steady stream of friendly banter trailing in their wake.

Rather than return indoors herself, she decided to continue on through the gardens, welcoming the chance of a solitary walk in which to order her thoughts. A pensive look crossed her brow as she set out down one of the well-tended paths. When she had arrived at Stormaway Hall, she had been so sure of her opinions, especially those regarding the aristocracy. After all, as a woman of mature years, she felt she had experienced enough of human nature to make such judgments.

But somehow young Max—and his father—were shaking the very foundation of her assumptions. The lad was the opposite of a spoiled, willful child of privilege. And while there was no question that the Earl was maddeningly arrogant, opinionated and used to having no opposition to his dictates, he was also principled, capable of compassion and, most of all, fair. Her thoughts lingered for a moment on the way he had dropped the hulking footman with one blow, then handled their hasty retreat from the library with cool aplomb—why, it was quite unfair of his friend to tease him with being a dull old dog! He had cut rather a dashing figure throughout the entire mad escapade and had displayed both quick wits and physical prowess in extricating all of them from danger.

She sighed. It had been much simpler when she had been able to regard all of the
ton
as unworthy of respect or regard. Now she had the uneasy feeling that to dismiss the Earl of Wrexham as such would prove no simple matter. A stone bench set back from a circular pool offered a welcome respite from her trampings and she took a seat while continuing to wrestle with her feelings.

Allegra was so deep in thought that she didn't hear the crunch of gravel until the approaching footsteps were quite close. Her head came up with a start, but before she had a chance to reveal her presence, the sound of a voice floated clearly through the tall boxwood hedge that separated her resting place from the other path. A flush stole over her face as she realized the topic of conversation. Now it was too awkward to speak up, and she could only pray that they moved on quickly. To her dismay, however, the footsteps ceased.

"Max introduced me to his new tutor." Lord Bingham's voice was rich with humor. There was the chink of a flint as he lit a cheroot. "How very interesting. Pray, how did that come about?"

"It is a long story, Edmund," replied the earl through gritted teeth. "Do not roast me over it—I assure you, it is trying enough."

Bingham laughed. "You shan't escape so easily, my friend. I look forward to hearing all the particulars tonight." The pungent scent of tobacco wafted through the air as he paused to savor the heady aroma. "If I didn't know you better, Leo, I should ask you whether you are studying anatomy at night with the tutor," he added lightly.

"Certainly not!" came the strangled reply.

"No, I know you are too much the gentleman to take advantage of someone under your roof, but you could hardly be blamed. She is a most attractive young woman."

"I hadn't noticed," growled Wrexham.

His friend slowly blew out a ring of smoke, then gave a chuckle. "Leo! Not notice those intriguing emerald eyes and interesting curves? You are in danger of becoming a dull old dog up here. What do you do for excitement?"

There was an uncomfortable silence.

"Poor Leo. You used to be quite the dashing fellow. But then, I suppose you are getting on in years—"

"I'm only three years older than you," snapped the earl. "And still well able to plant you a facer if you wish to try to draw my cork. Besides," he added, thinking with a note of satisfaction on the past evening. "I am not so far along in my dotage that I can't rise to the occasion when it is required—things are not quite so sadly flat around here as you might imagine."

Bingham raised a hand in mock surrender. "Cry truce! You know I am merely teasing. Though in truth, I should think that a change of scene once in a while might do you good. You know, I am sometimes concerned about how you hide yourself—"

"As to that, I'm planning a journey to Town shortly. Max has been pestering me for an age to show him the sights and I have some other pressing matters to attend to."

"Well, I shall look forward to your company. And shall the intriguing Mrs. Proctor accompany you as well?"

"Save your amorous pursuits for the legion of ladies willing to succumb to your charms," said the earl rather sharply. "I trust you will not try to seduce Mrs. Proctor. Besides," he added with a grimace. "She has no great opinion of any gentlemen with money and titles. Thinks we all have the character and morals of a weasel."

"Indeed? Surely as your employee, she is a bit more charitable towards you—"

"Oh, me in particular she finds arrogant, ill-tempered, high-handed and prejudiced."

"How perceptive," murmured Bingham.

Wrexham merely shot him a black look." In any case, yes, she will accompany us to London. But only because one of those pressing concerns of mine is to engage a more suitable tutor."

Bingham said nothing for a moment as he rolled the aged cheroot absently between his fingers. "Ah, well, I suppose it couldn't really be expected that a female would be capable of the sort of intellect needed to deal with Max. No doubt the lad is being kind in not announcing she doesn't really pass muster.."

"Mrs. Proctor is more knowledgeable, articulate and perceptive than most of the members of White's—though that is not saying much, I fear." The words had come out before Wrexham was aware of what he was saying.

Bingham regarded his friend with a curious look. "Perhaps not. But if that is the case, why do you need a new tutor? Max seems quite satisfied with the arrangement."

A frown creased Wrexham's brow as he stared at the patterns of light and shadow playing over the tall hedge. "It's... dash it all, it's not right, that's why. She is a female!"

"Ah, I thought you hadn't noticed."

"You know what I mean," snapped the earl.

"Rather arbitrary of you, Leo," drawled Bingham. "Actually, I should think a gently bred female might be a rather nice civilizing influence on Max as well as yourself, given that the two of you stay hidden away in the wilds here most of the time."

"Hah!" Wrexham nearly choked. "Civilized? You don't know the half!" When his friend raised an eyebrow in silent inquiry he merely shook his head. "Perhaps over brandy tonight, you shall hear the whole of it, if Mrs. Proctor gives me leave, for as a matter of fact, I wish to ask what you hear of Lord Sandhill in Town."

"Your neighbor? What does—"

"I told you, it is a long story, one in which my son's tutor figures quite prominently."

"Things become more interesting by the minute." He grinned. "Perhaps I've been too hasty in consigning you to the ranks of those past their prime."

Wrexham refused to rise to the bait this time. He merely pulled a face and tapped his crop impatiently against the side of his riding boot." Put out that vile thing and come along. Max will be waiting at the stables for us."

As their steps faded away, Allegra hoped her face would at some point soon return to its normal hue.

* * *

Allegra took a moment to smooth the folds of her navy merino gown before entering the drawing room. It was hardly of the latest fashion, but it was presentable enough to sit down to dine with the earl and his guest. When Max had knocked on her door and announced with ill-concealed enthusiasm that both of them were invited to entertain Lord Bingham, she had been loath to accept. Even now, her face burned with embarrassment as she recalled the earlier conversation between the two gentlemen. However, she hadn't had quick enough wits to come up with a plausible excuse, nor had she the heart to disappoint the lad, for his eager expression had told her that he counted on her presence.

Her hand went from the soft wool to check the pins that held her hair. She had dressed it in a style less severe than usual, though no doubt unremarkable compared to the elegant coifs of the belles of the
ton
. Still, she felt a little less like a governess.