The Earl's Passionate Plot (8 page)

This picnic was going even better than planned.
Dovington couldn't imagine what might be better: Miss Vandenhoff was enthralled by Ned's discourse, the weather was pleasant, the little Miss Renford was genial and, for the most part, silent, and now Miss Langley had just informed him he was wealthier than he thought. He'd had no idea the lands attached to The Grove were such promising properties. It remained to be seen exactly what profit could be got from any of these, but he had to admit on first glance Miss Langley appeared to have been a most excellent steward for these past years.

No wonder she was loathe to leave the place. Clearly her labors had not been done out of duty alone, but out of an honest
appreciation and concern. He could almost feel remorse for having to put the girl out of her home.

Almost
. Too many years of his own disappointments made it easy to ignore that of others. He would simply not allow himself to think on those lines. Miss Langley was young and attractive, and she'd shown herself more than capable. Clearly she could do well anywhere she landed. To assuage whatever guilt he might feel, he'd simply make sure she landed well.

And far enough away from him that he could forget ever having laid eyes on her.

Perhaps he ought to make certain Ned forgot about her, as well. It seemed Ned's conversation with Miss Vandenhoff had run its course and now Ned was easily swayed when Miss Langley distracted him with questions about whichever useless things seemed to pop into her head. For some reason, she suddenly wanted to know if Ned was a frequent visitor to the British Museum. Had he seen the Elgin Marbles? Was he familiar with the opera? Did he find the amusements at Vauxhall as delightful as the newspapers proclaimed? Was he there for the hot air balloon assent she'd read something about?

Ned seemed only too happy to give detailed responses to her questions and Dovington tried to catch the girl's eye to warn her off of him, but she was having none of it. In fact, her only response seemed to have been to pull him into their discussion, as well.

"Surely you have spent much time in London, sir," she asked as if she were truly interested. "What do you find the most interesting feature of the city?"

"Interesting? Well, I'd have to say
—"

"St. Paul's
, correct? Oh, but I've heard it's magnificent. To imagine a dome of such monumental proportions is truly amazing."

"Er, yes, I believe it is quite
—"

Again she cut off his reply
, which was not going to be about St. Paul's. Instead of merely interrupting him, though, now she included Miss Vanderhoff. In fact, it was as if she intentionally included the dubious miss and then passed her off deftly to Dovington.

"Surely even in America, Miss Vandenhoff, you've hear of our great cathedral?
" she said pointedly. "Come, my lord, do tell her all about the wonders of St. Paul's."

With Miss Vandenhoff's skeptical eye on him now, there was little he could do but answer in the most genial way possible.
"It is very large, for a church."

"So I've heard," Miss Vandenhoff commented. "Perhaps it would be better to use such a space to house the homeless and indigent, which I've heard London is quite full of."

Damn, this conversation was
not
going in the right direction. He looked to Miss Langley for help—she was the one who'd made a muck of things, after all—but she'd already turned her attentions back onto Ned and was busily engaging him in discussion with her sister, asking what places he might recommend their family visit at some point. There was nothing Dovington could do but try to unruffle Miss Vanderhoff's feathers.

"
Is that what is done in America?" he asked in all sincerity. "Religious facilities are turned over to be used as workhouses for the poor?"

Apparently this was the wrong thing to ask.
He wasn't even certain what she found so offensive in his question, but she spouted off more scripture, platitudes, and even lines from something she called a Constitution. The point, as best he could gather, was that she whole-heartedly disagreed with him and everything about him. What could be done to alter this opinion, he was afraid to ask.

Ned and Miss Langley were no help at all. They carried on very peacefully in th
eir discussion of London's joys and amusements. Dovington wished them all to Hades and was about to say so out loud when Miss Langley finally took her attentions from Ned and called to their driver.

"Here we are!
You can leave us out here, Jos." Now she smiled at the group in the carriage and waved her arms wide to indicated the sprawling countryside around them. "I thought this spot would suit our purposes perfectly. Isn't the view here irresistibly romantic?"

Their carriage pulled up to a halt and Dovington glanced around. Indeed, her estimation appeared accurate. This was an excellent spot for a picnic.

The grounds rolled away gently, sloping down to a picturesque stream bubbling and sparkling in the bright sun. Birds thrilled in the boughs above them, the grass grew lush and green, and wildflowers dotted the scene, casting fragrance into the Spring-warmed breeze. It was the perfect spot, indeed, for picnickers, artists, or lovers. As all of them were here to picnic, and since Miss Renford had brought along her chalk to play artist for them today, that meant the only players their group lacked were the lovers. But not for long, he vowed to himself.

Ned and Miss Vandenhoff would play their roles here
well; he'd make sure of it. In order for that to happen, though, Miss Langley would need to be distracted in some manner. He wasn't overly concerned about facilitating that, however. She was a female, wasn't she? Indeed she was; very much so. And this location truly was just as she'd said:
irresistibly romantic
.

The earl was being especially considerate as they set up and then settled in to enjoy the picnic.
Mariah didn't want to be impressed, but she was. The man was being gracious and helpful and everything gentlemanly. He spoke respectfully to the servants and was carefully tending the ladies' needs, positioning blankets and cushions and taking care that no food or drink was spilled that might spoil anyone's clothing. It appeared that even Miss Vandenhoff could find no fault and she fell into silence as conversation centered on Ella and her chalks once again.

It seemed Mr. Chadburne did, indeed, have a great interest in art and he peppered Ella with questions about her efforts. Ella, of course, was all too happy to respond. Mariah supposed she ought to interrupt them and somehow turn focus back onto Miss Vandenhoff in such a way that the earl might engage her in conversation, but her past attempts at that had been met with such failure that she was happy, for now, to allow Mr. Chadburne and Ella to carry the discourse. Sometimes concession must be made for the sake of peace. Hopefully this time of pleasantry would allow for a bit of a cooling off that might put Miss Vandenhoff more in mind to look on the earl with more tolerant eyes.

He certainly was doing his part to make himself more tolerable, she had to admit. His expression was friendly and his occasional contributions to the conversation were amiable and engaging. Oh, and the way the breezed played with his dark hair while the sunlight positively glinted in his eyes... it might be easy to forget what an ogre he truly was. If Miss Vandenhoff did not find herself softening just a bit toward the man after this, then clearly there was no hope for the girl.

Or any of them, unfortunately. Mariah would have to stop enjoying the peace and get back to the business of matching these two if she wanted Ella to be able to continue sketching this countryside or Mamma to remain in the home she had loved for twenty years now. As nice as it was to sit idly and soak in the lovely day, there was work to be done and no better time than the present to do it.

"Do you find the countryside here to be much different from rural places where you are from, Miss Vandenhoff?" she asked, convinced there could be nothing inflammatory in her words.

"
The farming areas are not dramatically different," the American replied in blessedly calm, civilized tones. "Though I admit to spending most of my time in the city. When my family does leave for holiday, we usually stay at our summer home on the shore and that is, of course, very different from here."

"We are
fairly near the shore here, aren't we?" Mr. Chadburne asked. "Two years ago I went to stay with friends near Portsmouth. That must be within an easy journey of here, I should think."

Ella replied before Mariah could. "Indeed, it is a very easy journey to the shore. My father used to take us there often on days when the weather was warm. Mariah and I would venture out in the bathing machines while Papa and Mamma would relax on the beach.
"

"As I recall, though, you always refused to come down the steps actually into the water," Mariah reminded.

But Ella had a ready reply for that. "And all you ever seemed to care about was smuggling carrots for the horses that pulled us into the waters. I think you enjoyed playing with them more than you did the ocean that we had gone all that way to see."

Even Miss Vandenhoff seemed to find the story amusing and the tone within the group was decidedly light. Still, though, the earl appeared to be hesitant to speak to Miss Vandenhoff himself. Instead he
was more inclined to have his cousin make pleasantries for him, constantly remarking to the younger man that he should tell the ladies of this tale or that. Mr. Chadburne obliged, entertaining them with stories of his various misadventures while angling in chalk streams, or losing at a bet and having to spend an entire night in an abandoned abbey that everyone swore was quite haunted.

Miss Vandenhoff
scoffed at the mention of ghosts, but Ella was quite enthralled with the idea. Mr. Chadburne seemed to be enjoying the attentions of both young ladies and was clearly embellishing as he described mournful moans and clanking chain and misty specters floating in the darkness. The man was a gifted storyteller and was making himself out to be far more amiable and interesting than his lordship. Certainly he was making Mariah's task harder for her. She'd best do something soon to distract Miss Vandenhoff from the younger man's virtues.

Their meal was done and Ella's box of chalks and her drawing papers lay nearby.
That seemed an excellent tool for distraction. Mariah latched onto it when there was a brief lull in the conversation.

"Have you deci
ded what view you would like to sketch today, Ella?" she asked. "I can help you set up wherever you might like to be."

"Oh, well I suppose I can just begin sketching from here," Ella replied.

Drat. How was staying here with the whole group going to do anything to put Miss Vandenhoff into a romantic mood toward Lord Dovington? Somehow she'd have to get the man involved in helping himself in this cause. Honestly, but it seemed he didn't have the first clue about wooing a female.

"I suppose it is a good scene," Mariah admitted. "But there are other very lovely views, as well. Perhaps his lordship and Miss Vandenhoff would be interested in walking along that slight ridge there. Just beyond those trees, as I recall, is a perfect vantage for viewing the church spire and the lands stretching toward Renford Hall."

"I'm not very much given to walking just now," Miss Vandenhoff said. "I prefer to sit here, thank you."

"Well, I'd very much like to see this view you mention, Miss Langley," the earl said. "Perhaps the others can entertain themselves here and you might show me the way?"

Botheration, but this man must have cotton for brains! Did he not realize this was no way to win his fair maiden? Leaving her to sit with his charming young cousin was distinctly the
wrong
thing to do if he had any hopes of attaching her for himself. What could he be thinking?

Perhaps she ought to explain things to him.
In private.

"Very well, my lord. If the others are content to stay here and keep my sister company, I will show you the view. I suppose you are quite interested in seeing the boundaries of your lands, and this will provide excellent position for that."

"Lead the way, then, Miss Langley."

Trying not to huff in frustration as she did so, she led him away from their picnic area and toward the high ground that ran as a rise along the top of the slope over the stream. The ridge took a gentle turn where a copse of trees grew from a rocky gap and it wasn't long before they were out of sight from their group. Mariah would have preferred to keep the others safely in view, but in order to show the earl what his greedy eyes wished to see, this was the direction she was forced to go.

At least it would provide opportunity for her to chastise him on his lack of social skills. It was inconceivable that a man who seemed so sure of himself and who, well, who looked the way he did, should be so very inept in that area. Perhaps, though, it was due to his outward appearance that he had never needed to learn the finer arts of wooing a lady. Perhaps he was simply used to ladies throwing themselves at him. Well, clearly he would have to expand his repertoire if he expected to get anywhere with the American heiress.

"I see the church spire from here," he noted, pointing toward the nestle of rooftops peeping through trees down in the valley below. "And beyond that, over there, are those the chimneys of The Grove?"