Lord Clayborne's Fancy (12 page)

“Pooh, it is nothing,” Rebecca was saying, while Captain Gray and Meg hovered over her. “Do cease this fussing.”

“Oh, Jason, Becka has twisted her ankle,” Meg cried when she caught sight of him.

“I tell you it is fine. I shall be right as a trivet in no time. And we won!” Rebecca announced.

“I’m not surprised,” Clayborne responded dryly. “Let me have a look at your ankle.”

“I will not have any fuss,” she whispered fiercely to him as he knelt beside her, taking the foot in his hand. “There is little the matter with it, and I am sure I shall be able to walk in a moment.”

“There is nothing broken, in any case,” he announced after probing gently with his fingers. “What has put you in such a taking?”’

“I do not wish to spoil our day,” she said firmly, but her lip quivered as she looked reproachfully at the swelling ankle.

“You cannot walk on it,” he stated rather than questioned. “Well, that will not spoil our day. I can carry you back to the carriage, and we can still have our meal at the Mitre in Twickenham as we had planned.”

“Carry me!” she exclaimed, horrified. “No such thing. Just lend me your cane and I shall manage.”

Clayborne laughed at her horrified expression and said, “All right. Try the cane first, though I would not pinch you if I carried you,” he promised.

“More’s the pity,” she retorted saucily, as he assisted her to rise. When she attempted to put her weight on the ankle she gave a gasp of pain, but determinedly grasped the cane and attempted a few halting steps. Clayborne stood, hands on hips, regarding her mockingly.

“My dear, I am afraid you lose after all,” he announced and scooped her up into his arms. He proceeded to lead the party out of the maze, guided by Meg, who shamefacedly produced the drawing to give them directions amidst cries of “Unfair!” from the captains.

Rebecca felt herself blushing, much to her chagrin, and announced to her husband, “I feel most undignified. Are you sure it is quite proper for you to carry me about this way?”

“It is expedient,” he declared. “Now you must not expect me to talk to you for your weight is quite making me puff,” he said, smiling down at her.

“Wretch! I shall pay you back for that.”

“No doubt.” Then he grew more serious, saying, “Rebecca, your sister Mary is a charming child, but we shall have to give some special thought to keeping her amused in town. I gather she has a deal more affection for horses than people, generally.” He continued after a slight pause, “My sister was like that.”

“Your sister? I have never heard you speak of her, though Mrs. Lambert has.”

“She died several years ago in childbirth. Have I never mentioned her? I was very fond of Caroline. Her husband and son live near my Yorkshire estate, much retired. I think he has never quite got over her death.”

“And your nephew? What is he like?”

Clayborne grinned. “I’m fond of the little tyke. He’s four by now. I saw him last fall when I was at Easingwold. He wanted to know all about you.” This brought a frown of recollection, and an end to their easy badinage. “You will be most comfortable in the carriage, I think,” he observed as they approached their vehicles.

“Would you do something for me, Jason?” Rebecca asked, mischievously.

Clayborne deposited her gently against the squabs and looked doubtful. “What?”

“Would you take Miss Turnpeck up with you? Just to the inn, you know. I am sure she would be thrilled, and it is not so very far, after all,” she pressed, demurely. As the others had reached the carriage by now, Rebecca called, “Miss. Turnpeck, Jason thought you might enjoy a short turn in his curricle, just to the Mitre, you know.”

Miss Turnpeck flushed with pleasure, and turned an adoring look on Clayborne. “You are so thoughtful, my lord. I should dearly love a ride in such a handsome vehicle.”

“Vixen,” he murmured to Rebecca, then climbed down from the carriage and gallantly handed Miss Turnpeck into the curricle. Captain Gray took up Mary and the party set off for the Mitre to partake of a much needed repast. With a chuckle Rebecca settled back in the carriage and glanced at Meg.

“Really, it is too bad of you, Becka,” her sister protested, laughing. “I have never seen such an expression on Clayborne’s face as when you called to Miss Turnpeck. Had he agreed?”

“Not exactly, but I am sure he was about to. Could he deny me such a small favor?”

“Small!” Captain Hardcastle exclaimed. “I have never in my life endured such a chatterbox as on the journey down. It was absolutely wicked of you, Lady Clayborne,” he scolded gleefully.

“Do you suppose,” Meg asked with great solemnity, “that he will teach her to drive his pair?”

“I regret that I didn’t suggest it to him,” Rebecca said, disappointed. “Meg, you should have done so. It would have made our day.”

“Yes, but now he will be in a temper, Becka, and very displeased with you.”

“No, I don’t think so, for he is scrupulously fair by his own lights and I was only repaying him for a most ungracious comment on my person,” Rebecca laughed.

So the three of them drove contentedly to the inn, where they joined the others for a gay meal of roasted leg of mutton, boiled ham, chicken, beans, boiled plum pudding, potatoes, gooseberry tarts and raspberries with cream. Clayborne was his most urbane, and gallant to Miss Turnpeck, though he insisted that she should ride in the carriage for their return, as it would be too chilly a drive for her in the curricle. He took Rebecca aside as they were departing and declared, “Most unhandsome of you, madam,” but his eyes were smiling and he said, “She enlightened me on the history of Twickenham—did you know Pope lived there?—and I assure you nothing could be of less interest to me.”

“Your just desserts, sir.”

“How is your ankle now?”

“It is sore, but I can walk with the cane and I am sure it will be healed in a day or so. I shall dance at Lord Stonebridge’s.”

“I am delighted to hear it. Do not neglect to save a dance for me—the first waltz, perhaps?”

“Certainly. I shall be honored, my lord.” She made to sweep him a curtsey, but she sighed with a jab of pain from the ankle.

At a gleam in his eye, she knew he was threatening to carry her to the carriage once again, and said firmly, “No, no. I assure you I can walk now. Just give me your support and I shall be fine.”

They left thus companionably for the carriage and Meg heaved a sigh of relief as she watched them go. She found his lordship’s temper rather erratic and was pleased that the pair seemed to be getting on better, even after Rebecca’s joke on her husband. Though Meg herself had not the slightest desire to play a prank on Will, she was happy to see Rebecca cheerful again. In fact, Meg felt so in charity with Clayborne that she agreed to drive back with him since Rebecca would need to rest her ankle in the carriage and Captain Gray had claimed Mary.

Aware that Meg was not fond of horses or sporting vehicles, Clayborne kept to an unhurried pace and skillfully directed the conversation to topics of interest to her. She was totally unaware of the information he obtained from her regarding Rebecca’s younger days, merely pleased that he should show such a marked interest in herself and her sister and life at Farthington Hall.

Satisfied with their discussion, Clayborne assured himself that his growing tendency to subtly obtain information about his wife was not underhanded spying but necessary circumspection. If she would not tell him the truth, he had every right to find it out for himself. And when he confronted her with it... well, then perhaps she would admit her fault and they might come to some understanding at last. Carrying her to the carriage had been very unsettling.

Chapter Nine

Mary was chatting gaily with Captain Gray when they entered Clayborne House but she let out a gasp on sight of her Aunt Adeline and Cousin Sally. Her aunt glowered at her, and her cousin sniggered behind her mother’s voluminous black bombazine gown.

When she took in this sight, Rebecca halted at the doorway of the drawing room, turned swiftly to Captain Hardcastle and said softly, “I think we had best withdraw our invitation to tea for today. There is like to be a family... discussion just now.” Her eyes were cast heavenward and she extended her hand in farewell.

“Certainly, Lady Clayborne. We should not be imposing further; you will need to rest your ankle.” He tugged at Captain Gray’s sleeve, gave him a speaking look which his friend immediately responded to, and they took themselves off, much to Meg and Clayborne’s surprise, as they had just entered the house.

“Aunt Adeline is here,” Rebecca informed her husband succinctly, while Meg’s eyes widened in horror, and Miss Turnpeck, declaring that she was thoroughly exhausted, took herself off to her room.

Clayborne accepted this intelligence with equanimity and preceded his wife into the drawing room, where Mary and her relations were eyeing one another with silent hostility. “Ah, Mrs. Rotham and Miss Rotham, so nice to see you again,” he remarked courteously with a bow. “Won’t you be seated? Rebecca will ring for tea.”

The ladies responded coolly to his reception, barely greeting Rebecca and Meg at all. But Rebecca seated herself, and they were forced to do likewise. Mrs. Rotham was working herself up to a denunciation of her late guest when Clayborne interceded smoothly. “I collect you could not have received my letter as yet. Mary arrived here safely yesterday afternoon and has kindly agreed to stay with us until Meg and Miss Turnpeck return to Farthington Hall. I am sure she will wish to take this opportunity to express her apologies for causing you any distress by her unexpected departure.”

He glanced lazily over at Mary, who had no such desire, but met his eyes steadily and murmured, still looking at him, “I am sorry if I caused you upset, Aunt.” She then lowered her eyes and remained silent, while her aunt puffed and steamed.

“Well, I never! Ungrateful child! How dare you take off in such a wild, undisciplined manner? Causing your cousin and me such palpitations and fears, to say nothing of the inconvenience, discomfort and expense of a journey to London!” Mrs. Rotham had a great deal more to say, but Clayborne interrupted.

“Indeed, it was very wrong and unthinking of the child, but as you see she has come to no harm, and we are pleased to have her with us.”

“I have come to take her back with me,” Mrs. Rotham announced frigidly.

“That is kind of you, ma’am, but it will not be necessary. I have written to her parents to explain that she will be remaining with us and there is no need to put yourself out any further over the matter. Would you not like to be shown to a room to refresh yourselves from your journey? We do not dine for several hours yet and I feel sure you would welcome a rest,” Clayborne concluded with his most charming smile.

Mrs. Rotham was not entirely pacified, but she had a great desire to see more of Clayborne House. Sally had left off her sniggering and was looking uncomfortable, while Mary continued to peruse the hands lying in her lap. The advent of the tea tray was greeted with relief. Rebecca said, “Meg, will you help me pour out? I am sure Aunt Adeline and Sally would welcome a cup of tea before they go to their rooms.”

Meg, who found herself speechless in such circumstances, agreed to assist her sister. She smiled hesitantly at her aunt and cousin as she passed them their cups, and they unbent slightly. Encouraged, she offered, “We have had the most lovely day at Hampton Court, going through the palace and the maze. Have you been there?”

A lukewarm conversation ensued and Mrs. Rotham and Sally eventually departed for the rooms which had been prepared for them. Mary turned to Clayborne and said simply, “Thank you, Jason.”

“I have to admit that it did not occur to me that they would follow you. Very resourceful, your aunt. Did you leave her a note saying you were coming here?”

“Well, yes, I had to say something. I could not just leave without a word. But now Sally will miss the party,” Mary proclaimed, with an unsuccessful attempt to look penitent.

“You imp!” Rebecca exclaimed. “I do believe you are pleased about it.”

“And so should you be, if you had had to live with that... that girl for a few weeks!”

“No doubt,” Clayborne agreed dampingly. “I shall send them home in the traveling carriage tomorrow, but I hope you will all endeavor to make their stay... pleasant.”

Grateful for her husband’s handling of the situation, Rebecca replied with due gravity, “You may be sure, Jason, that we shall. I’ll speak to the cook now.”

“It might be wise,” he suggested, “if you sent notes round to Captain Gray and Captain Hardcastle to see if they would join us for dinner and the evening. It’s short notice, of course, but if they could come it would prove a useful distraction.” He helped himself to a pinch of snuff and eyed her ruefully.

“Yes, I see what you mean, and we had no other plans for this evening. Poor Jason. It has become overwhelming, hasn’t it?” Rebecca rose, forgetting her ankle, and winced slightly.

“On the other hand,” Clayborne offered smoothly, “you may not be up to entertaining this evening. We have had a busy day and your ankle is still causing you some difficulty, I see.”

“Pooh! I would not allow such a minor inconvenience to hamper me,” she replied stoutly. “Meg will help me, won’t you, dear?”

“Certainly, Becka,” Meg responded promptly, rising to go to her sister. “The captains did not speak of any engagements this evening, so we may be in luck. Shall I see to some card tables being set out?”

“Do you suppose Aunt Adeline indulges in whist?” Rebecca mused.

Her sister giggled. “If not we can always get out the lottery tickets.”

Mary, who had been sitting silent through this exchange, finally spoke. “Oh, she plays cards all right. And Sally cheats.”

“Such admirable relations you have,” Clayborne murmured as he replaced his snuff box.

Rebecca determined to ignore this comment. Instead she enlisted her youngest sister’s help with the arrangements, and the ladies left Clayborne to ponder how he would entertain six ladies alone if the captains were unable to attend. He was not beset with this problem, however, as both accepted within the hour.