The Earl's Passionate Plot (7 page)

"
I've found sea voyage quite nauseating," she replied, walking past him to stand stiffly beside the carriage. "I recommend you stay home if at all possible."

Clearly she had nothing more to say on the matter and Dovington was thankful for that. She waited with her chin in the air for someone to assist her into the carriage. The warm spring air took on a decided chill and the bright sun seemed to dim a few shades.

Dovington caught Miss Langley's eye. This time she didn't flash fire at him or look away in disgust. Instead her expression asked him just how he expected her to make a silk purse out of this pig's ear.

Quite honestly, he had no idea. They were in for it now and there was nothing to be done but survive it. Hoisting his shoulders back and putting on the bravest face possible, he moved to Miss Vandenhoff's side and offered to assist her into the carriage.

"Shall we be off on this adventure, then?" he asked.

One more glance at Miss Langley and he thought he caught her actually smiling. The chit was
positively amused by his discomfort. Well, he'd just see how much more amusement he could provide her as the day went on.

The birds were singing overhead and the carriages rattled along the familiar old road.
Their party of five picnickers was crowded into the old square landau while two footmen and Miss Vandenhoff's maid rode along behind them in a separate conveyance carrying the hampers and other supplies for the day's outing. Mariah sat wedged between Ella and Miss Vandenhoff on the seat facing forward, and the two gentlemen sat in the seat facing them.

The hood
s were down so they could enjoy the weather, but after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence Mariah was wishing they could put them up again and tell the coachman to race the horses out to their selected picnic area. The sooner this dismal event could be over, the better. Miss Vandenhoff was like a dark cloud hovering over all of them.

"The flowers this year are so lovely," Ella chirped as they rolled past Mrs. Saunders house with her many window boxes and well tended garden.

"Indeed," Mr. Chadburne replied brightly. "I always forget how vivid the colors are here in the country. What is the name of this little village we are coming into?"

"This is
Hinders Sundry," Mariah replied. "As you see, not a large village but it has its own market one day each month and the shops provide most of what we need."

"See there?" Ella pointed out as they clattered along the old road. "That shop has the most delightful hair ribbons! Perhaps tomorrow you might like to walk into the village with me, Miss Vandenhoff, and look at them?"

The heiress peered at the shop and then shrugged. "St. Peter warns us about the
outward
adorning
of plaiting the hair and wearing of gold," the heiress replied, though Mariah wasn't entirely sure what she meant by it.

Ella seemed equally confused. She wrinkled up her nose and frowned. "Well, I know they have ribbon, but I don't believe they sell anything gold..."

How on earth was Mariah going to redirect this? She glanced at Ella for support but her sister merely blinked huge blue eyes in mute befuddlement. It seemed for the moment they were all doomed to uncomfortable silence again. Fortunately, Mr. Chadburne came to the rescue.

"How true that often the simplest adornment is the best
," he said lightly. "That little grove of trees, for instance, could be in a painting by one of those new romantic artists."

"Oh, but I adore art," Ella said, nearly stumbling over her words on a subject that Mariah knew was very dear to her. "I brought my chalks along today and hope to make some sketches of the views on our outing."

Mr. Chadburne seemed every bit as eager to embrace this subject as Ella had been. "Brilliant idea, Miss Renford. I'm already impatient to see what you'll create for us. Do you always use chalk or do you dabble in watercolors, as well?"

"You are a lover of art, Mr. Chadburne?" Mariah
asked, happy to capitalize on such a cheery topic at last.

"My mother is, actually," he replied. "She's forever forcing me to take her to galleries and such. I'm hardly an expert on the matter, but I will admit to having an appreciation for the talent and craft required for painting or
sketching."

Ella agreed whole heartedly and
at last it seemed as if the group might embark on actual conversation. It was not to be, however. The earl made the foolhardy mistake of asking Miss Vandenhoff for her thoughts on the subject.

"I think the time spent smearing paint could much better be put to other uses and the vast sums of money
wasted to support such activities could surely go toward more productive efforts," the American replied in her usually snippy tones.

Mariah glared at the earl. How could he possibly expect her to help make the chit appear to advantage if he went about tossing questions at her? Clearly her contrary nature had to be treated much more carefully. She needed to be managed with extreme caution and certainly not given opportunity to rant over questions thrown at her willy-nilly.

Somehow Mariah simply had to find a subject that the girl could agree with. There must be something! Miss Vandenhoff could not possibly be negative about
everything
on the planet, could she?

"Well, I certainly admit that any time I might spend smearing paint could certainly be put to better use," Mariah said. "I fear I have no talent for it whatsoever, though I am glad that some people seem to find enjoyment from it. Mrs. Wakefield, for instance," she said, pointing at the large home they were just now passing by, "has quite a good eye for such things. Just a few months ago she had a portrait commissioned for her grandchildren. I should think that such a gift as that would be quite a good use of artistic talent."

Miss Vandenhoff appeared not to agree. "And Mrs. Wakefield lives in this house? It hardly seems grand enough for a family who can afford such luxuries."

"This is the rectory," Mariah explained. "Mr. Wakefield is our vicar, although he is getting on in years and now shares his duties with our new curate."

"And still he can pay for such things as portraits? What a vicar he must be. Does this new curate live in such imposing style as well?"

Clearly there was no pleasing the girl.
"No, I'm happy to say the new curate lives alone in a very small house with no portraits at all. Is that as it should be?"

Miss Vandenhoff shrugged. "Pity your parish cannot care for him better."

Exasperating hussy! Mariah had to clench her fists as well as her teeth to keep from grabbing her guest and throttling her. How could the girl possibly think she was any sort of decent company? It was inconceivable that anyone—even an American—could be so boldly rude and unlikable.

As for
Lord Dovington—well, he was equally exasperating. By heavens, when she glared at him in irate frustration, the man actually smiled at her. He seemed perfectly at ease, amused by her aggravation, even. What nerve, when he was the very one she suffered such appalling treatment for! She folded her arms over her chest and sank back into her seat.

Fine. If he could find such
a distasteful exchange compelling, then she would happily let him. But she would not participate. If he was determined to marry himself to someone spouting off bitter retorts all day long, he was perfectly welcome to do so. He'd simply have to do it without any assistance from her.

"You seem to be of strong conviction, Miss Vandenhoff," he said
, unphased by the reproach on the girl's face. "I am glad you feel emboldened to express your true feelings on things. Too often ladies are trained to keep silent on serious matters, but not you. How refreshing that you are exceptional in that way, wouldn't you say, Ned?"

"Oh, er, yes," his cousin replied quickly, after receiving a subtle elbow to his ribs. "Exceptional, to say the least."

For a moment it seemed Miss Vandenhoff wasn't sure how to take this odd sort of compliment. Mariah quite enjoyed seeing her at a loss, but soon her usual sourness returned and she curled her lip at the men.

"You are free to form your opinions of me, of course. I, however, do not
trust in pleasing men, but God, which trieth our hearts."

Mariah hoped, for the girl's sake, God didn't spend too much time trying hers. He'd very likely find himself offended. Fortunately, though, the earl took Miss Vandenhoff's censure in stride.

"You seem to be fond of quoting scripture," he noted. "I take it you are rather devout?"

"I am, sir. I find the study of scripture to be a most rewarding application."

Mariah bit her tongue before stating the obvious. Whatever scripture Miss Vandenhoff must be studying, it certainly hadn't had much of an impact. Nothing Mariah could recall from Mr. Wakefield's readings mentioned sacred mandates for rudeness and affront. Perhaps the translation was different in America, though.

"It is an admirable undertaking, no doubt," his lordship said.

"
Study to shew thyself approved unto God, a workman that needeth not to be ashamed," Miss Vandenhoff replied.

Mariah cringed, but the earl surprised her by avoiding the temptation to ridicule or to shew himself completely
un
approved. Apparently the man knew a bit of scripture himself.

"Don't forget, Miss Vandenhoff, we are also
told that of making many books there is no end; and much study is a weariness of the flesh."

Miss Vandenhoff was duly impressed. "I see you are a bit of a scholar yourself, sir."

"I paid attention in school when it suited me," he said. "My cousin, however, is much more learned in such matters than I am. For a time he considered pursuing ordination, didn't you, Ned?"

At last they had hit on a subject that enthralled Miss Vandenhoff. Her eyes grew wide and she gazed at Mr. Chadburne.

"You, sir? Are you no longer considering the church, then?"

She seemed disappointed in that, but listened intently as Mr. Chadburne explained that other duties had arisen to interfere with his religious pursuits. When he mentioned that it would have been a good number of years before he could have counted on a living, he received a warning glance from the earl. Mariah did not let that go unnoticed.

Apparently the topic of Mr. Chadburne's clerical expectations was not to be discussed. Very likely that meant either this earl or his father had been forced to sell off any living possessed by the Dovington estate. If Mr. Chadburne had indeed completed his ordination, there would have been no where for him to go. Pity.

Where most grand families held
vicarages to offer the younger sons, apparently this was just one more area where Dovington was lacking. Poor Mr. Chadburne could not look forward to support from his own family. Once again, the fact of Dovington's diminished condition threatened to give Miss Vandenhoff just one more reason to disregard him. Mariah would have to re-involve herself in this conversation to help rescue the man, drat it all.

But that notion was more easily dreamed than done. Miss Vandenhoff and Mr. Chadburne were so embroiled in their discussion of philosophical differences in points of doctrine that Mariah could not get a word in edgewise. Oh, but this was terrib
le! The heiress was pleasantly animated for the first time since her arrival, and her attentions were clearly pinned on Mr. Chadburne, not his desperately eligible cousin.

Finally the conversation hit a lull and Mariah was just about to pipe up with something
—anything—to distract them, but his lordship apparently had the same idea. Instead of successfully regaining Miss Vandenhoff's attention for himself, though, he posed a question for Mariah.

"It seems this side of your village is not nearly so well kept as the other," he said, indicating the overgrown hedgerows and tumbled state of the walls lining the roadway as they left the village behind and were, once again, traveling through farm lands.

"These lands are someone else's, sir. On the other side of the village, the area we have already been through, those farmers are tenants of... well, they are yours, actually."

This truly seemed to surprise him. "Mine?
You mean to say when your step-father bought The Grove he thought he was purchasing the farm lands as well?"

"He did, and he managed them very well all those years, if I do say."

"Indeed, they appear to be thriving, but... your step-father has been gone three full years now, has he not? Many of the improvements I noticed in those areas appear very recent? Who has been managing the tenants in his absence?"

"I have, of course. I told you that."

"I thought you meant you'd been managing the household," he explained. "I assumed you'd been overseeing the purchase of candles and mutton for the larder, that sort of thing."

"I have. And the well-being of tenants, and the upkeep of walls, and the condition of our lesser roadways, and new channels being dug for additional irrigation... I assumed you understood what was needed in the oversight of an estate."

"I do, of course. I just never knew... that is, my father's papers were in such disarray I did not realize this estate was as large as it apparently is. You are certain all these things you've told me are accurate?"

"You think I know less about my home than you do, sir? When I've lived here for twenty years and been
primary overseer of it all for three?"

"No, I meant... I will clearly have to look into things."

"You do that. When you are content that everything is as I just told you, then you might perhaps let me know."

Drat. Had she really just informed him that Renford Hall was even more valuable than he'd known? She'd let her pride carry her away. He'd started her on the subject and she'd rambled on about her glorious
achievements. Now he would not only be trying to evict her family, but very likely all their tenants, as well, in his eagerness to pillage his newfound property for momentary profit. Oh, but how foolish could she be?

So far this picnic was turning into quite the disaster, she was sorry to say. Miss Vandenhoff was being most unpleasant, the earl was practically rubbing his hands together and salivating with greed over his new information, and now Mr. Chadburne was quite contentedly drawing all of Miss Vandenhoff's attention for himself. If any part of this day could be worse, she didn't know what it might be.