Laura Matthews (5 page)

“After you have dined, I will drive you there.” He retrieved her cap from where he had tossed it and handed it to her. “I will explain the situation to my aunt and insure that you do not meet her before you leave. Join me for dinner at five, please. I will send word to the vicarage informing them of your arrival.”

Glenna murmured her agreement, stopped to retrieve the strawberry basket and fled. In her room she bathed as best she could and washed the remaining powder from her hair. It was a relief to see the natural color again, and to don an attractive gown. With her portmanteaux packed and the entry of her awful encounter with Lord Pontley duly inscribed in her journal, she descended to the drawing room, which led through sliding doors into the dining parlor. She found that Pontley had preceded her and stood gazing out the window, occupied by his thoughts and neatly dressed in a dark green coat of superfine with dove colored pantaloons. Unwilling to call his attention to herself, she quietly took a chair and sat studying her hands.

Eventually he turned from the window and started on catching sight of her. “You have allowed me to be rude, Miss Forbes. I did not hear you enter.”

“I had no wish to disturb you, sir, and was perfectly content to sit for a space.” With an attempt at lightness she smiled and said, “I have seldom enjoyed such a luxury in your house.”

When he strode over to her, she noted that the limp was perhaps less than it had been, but she was much more aware of the tension in him than anything else. Before the intensity of his gaze she dropped her eyes and suddenly wondered what to do with her hands. “You are embarrassed for me, Miss Forbes.”

Startled, her eyes flew to his face and she protested, “Nonsense. Why should I be?”

“Because you are familiar with the contents of a letter I wrote to my aunt.”

No effort on her part could restrain the flush that crept over her face. “It is not a cause of embarrassment, my lord. Or at least, not for you. Although it was upsetting for me to have to read such a letter to your aunt, I am satisfied to be possessed of the information it contained. You can hardly expect that I would wish to have you marry me out of a sense of misdirected honor. I asked you several times at our last meeting whether you wished for me to cry off. You had only to tell me so then or at any time subsequent for me to do so with perfect amiability. The matter is settled now to our mutual satisfaction.”

“Hardly,” he muttered. “Misguided though your escapade has been, I can only assume that you undertook it feeling the full weight of your betrothed state, and must conclude that you had indeed intended to marry me."

“Rather the opposite, actually.” Her eyes danced with amusement. “I felt certain that I would not marry you, and therefore I would never be identified to your aunt as myself.”

He lifted a quizzical brow. “Then why did you come?”

“Oh, I felt sorry for your aunt. You understand, at the time I had never met her and did not realize that my sympathy was wasted. Once here, events conspired to keep me longer than I would have liked, but I put it down to my own folly. It was rather enlightening, you know, being a companion. Do you suppose I can get her to pay me?”

Pontley gave a bark of laughter. “She’s ready to string you up by your thumbs, my dear Miss Forbes, but I would be more than willing to reimburse you for your time and efforts.”

“You would be appalled at how little she offered me as inducement to be her companion. We pay our scullery maid a great deal more.”

Dinner was announced before Pontley could respond, and he led her in to their meal feeling quite in charity with her. He had been fortunate indeed to contract an alliance with such a practical woman, who would not through any petty motive hold him to an agreement which no longer suited him. Grateful to be at last escaping from Lady Pontley, Glenna chatted throughout the meal about his aunt, the Lockwood estate and her friends at the vicarage. Her description of her arrival with the harp drew an appreciative chuckle, and he openly answered her questions about the estate in Gloucestershire. By unspoken agreement they avoided the subject of Miss Jennifer Stafford, and the meal passed off more pleasantly than either would have expected a few hours previously.

During the drive to the vicarage Pontley related his conversation with Mr. Forbes. “Was it necessary for you to be so frank with him?” Glenna protested.

“I had not intended to be, Miss Forbes, but I think you should not be so protective of him. He asked me specifically to tell you that you must not marry on his account alone.”

“You don’t know him as I do,” she retorted. “He has been fretting himself over me."

“I don’t doubt that, but I think you will find he acknowledges your right to live your life as you choose, and not be swayed by his concern for you. He will manage without your making sacrifices."

Pontley had turned to look at her and was astonished to see her face suddenly grow pale. “Are you all right, ma’am?” The horses came to a plunging halt at his insistence.

“Of course,” she murmured through frozen lips. “Whyever are you stopping, Lord Pontley? You could kill your groom with a sudden stop like that.” The boy behind indeed looked shaken, and Glenna used the time Pontley spoke with him to pinch her cheeks and draw a few deep breaths.

When he turned to her he thought she still looked wretched, but she urged him forward and there was nothing he could do but obey. As she seemed unable to make conversation, he turned desperately to his naval days for inspiration, and he could not be sure whether she comprehended or even heard his story of the young lieutenant from his cutter who had taken four men and rowed ashore, boarded and succeeded in floating a beached French
chassemarée
in the face of her astonished crew and a platoon of French infantry. They had arrived at the vicarage by the time he completed the tale and there was more color in her face, but he accepted the vicar’s invitation of refreshment so that he would have an opportunity to see her recovered from her upset.

Phoebe eyed him warily but said nothing, and Glenna was soon chatting with her friends. To do honor to the displaced harp she played several pieces for them and Pontley wondered whether Miss Jennifer Stafford had any musical accomplishments. She had exhibited none during his visit.

On his leave-taking Glenna offered him her hand and smiled. “I hope you will be content at Lockwood, my lord, and that you can overlook my inadvised interference in your affairs.”

“I accept that you meant well, Miss Forbes, and regret that your efforts were for naught.”

He was barely gone from the room before Phoebe drew Glenna away to her room to hear the whole story.

Chapter 5

Pontley spent a month at Manner Hall in Somerset attempting to sort out the management of that estate. As the furthest from Lockwood, and the smallest, it had suffered the greatest neglect. Under a blazing sun he continually rode about the acreage with the new agent, as intent on learning as on setting matters to rights. It was his intention to let the Hall itself, though its condition was not good, but he was loath to do the same at Huntley. No tenant was in the offing, however, and he had become eager to abandon the lonely life here for the more congenial atmosphere near Tetbury.

Once again, on the point of departure his destination was deflected by the receipt of a letter. His aunt wrote her usual barrage of criticism to him but near the end remarked that she had learned that Miss Forbes’s father had recently died. Because of her annoyance with the young lady it seemed to give her a certain amount of satisfaction that Glenna would be suffering. Pontley felt genuine sorrow for the old man’s demise; though their acquaintance had not been long, he had respected Mr. Forbes. But his greatest concern was for the daughter and her distress. He could not shake the feeling of responsibility he had come during their engagement to feel toward her, and he could not bring himself to merely send a letter of condolence. And had she not, in her kindness, gone to his aunt when she thought the old woman grieving? Probably it was absurd of him, he chided himself, but he must see her and assure himself of her well-being. There was time enough to return to Huntley to see Miss Stafford.

Glenna’s circle of friends had closed around her at such a time, and Pontley arrived to find her seated with several of them in the drawing room. Her surprise when he was announced was followed by an unexpected warmth toward him for the thoughtfulness of his gesture.

There was only one man in the room with whom he was not familiar, and Glenna introduced him as the Honorable Peter Westlake. Pontley regarded the young man skeptically, taking his age to be a few years younger than himself. Westlake was dressed in the latest London fashion, with a high starched cravat and fobs hanging from each of the fob pockets on his tight, white pantaloons. He was particularly solicitous of Glenna, and Pontley took an immediate dislike to him, which was intensified when he realized that Miss Forbes’s view was rather the opposite.

Pontley wished for an opportunity to speak alone with his former fiancé and, not being willing to outwait the morning’s callers, he solicited a private interview. Glenna promptly excused herself and led him to the book room where the piles of letters indicated that she had received expressions of sympathy from an abundance of friends. There was one spot cleared where she had obviously been answering these condolences when she had been called away, probably for the visitors now in the drawing room.

“You will forgive the untidiness, I trust, Lord Pontley. There has been so much to do.” She seated herself wearily and motioned him to a chair.

“I cannot tell you how sorry I am for your loss, Miss Forbes. I had a fond regard for your father.”

“Thank you. He was fond of you, too, you know. I shall miss him.” She gazed sadly out the window, lost in her own thoughts for a moment.

Pontley waited until her attention once again returned to him before he spoke. “Will you be frank with me about your circumstances now, Miss Forbes?”

“Why...I cannot see that they concern you, sir."

“Nevertheless I feel concerned and would appreciate knowing how you are circumstanced. I no longer have the right to ask but I have a desire to be of what assistance I can.”

“Now who is interfering?” she demanded, nervously poking the pen into the blotter.

“Your father had expected not so long ago that I would be responsible for you on his death, and I cannot believe that he would hold it amiss in me to look into your well-being. Come, Miss Forbes, let us not quibble. You must realize that but for changes in my own circumstances we would at this moment be man and wife.”

“I have friends who will help me.”

“I am aware of that, and if you can assure me that there is no cause for concern, I will plague you no further. But I must insist on your being honest with me. Shall you have to sell the house?”

“Yes”

“Where will you go?”

“I will take lodgings here in town, I suppose.”

"Will you be able to manage on your resources without additional income?”

“Certainly.”

“For how long?”

“Several years, I should imagine.” Her chin was set stubbornly. “Will that be all, my lord?”

“No, Miss Forbes. I have a suggestion to make, and I pray you will not reject it outright. It has several advantages which you should weigh carefully. I have come straight from Manner Hall in Somerset, a small property with an old manor house in need of some renovation. Our lack of success in finding a tenant, I fear, is entirely owing to its condition. My proposal is that you should occupy the house, rent-free, and keep an eye on the renovations which I will cause to be undertaken.”

At her murmur of protest, he waved her to silence. “You would find the setting congenial, I believe, for the house is located within sight of the Bristol Channel not far from Minehead. For companionship, there are some neighbors, but you might rather choose to entertain your friends from Hastings. During your mourning period you will not wish to go into society here in any case, and the change of scene might be welcome. It will not be easy for you to see this house occupied by someone new."

Glenna regarded him bemusedly, a glint of tears in her eyes. “You are more thoughtful than I had suspected, Lord Pontley, but I must refuse your generous offer, if for no other reason than that I could not afford the staff for such a household, even were I paying no rent.”

“You misunderstand, ma’am. I have to maintain some staff in any case, empty or occupied, and I would continue to do so. The manor house is a small sandstone place with gables and tall brick chimneys. The garden is especially charming, and the lawns are lush, if unkempt. My agent will be fully occupied in seeing to the farming and forestry; I cannot spare him to supervise the renovations to the house. The impressions you expressed with regard to Lockwood encourage me to think that you would succeed in the task admirably.”

“I appreciate your confidence, but I really cannot accept. You must see that I can take nothing from you, sir.” She poked the pen into the blotter once again and was startled when he grasped her hand.

“Stop that. I sympathize with your distress, Miss Forbes, but I am impatient with your lack of realism. You will need something to occupy your mind, to keep you busy, for the next few months, and I can think of nothing better than my proposition.”

Glenna shook his hand off and deposited the pen on the desk. “Well, naturally
you
cannot. I don’t need you dictating to me, Lord Pontley; I am perfectly capable of managing for myself.”

He shrugged exasperatedly. “I know that, ma’am. But I am offering you a change of scene, an occupation, a chance to entertain your friends with no expense.” He rose and paced about the room, the limp scarcely noticeable now. “Conserve your resources, Miss Forbes, until you need to call upon them.”

“We are not discussing naval strategy, my lord, but my life.”

She was subjected to his penetrating gaze. “And if you spend your all within the next few years, what will you do then? Go to live with some relation? You would be in no better position than you were with my aunt.”