Miss In A Man's World. ANNE ASHLEY
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him every reason to suppose the artful little madam had made use of his suggestion about Sir Willoughby’s remarks in order to conceal the source of her true ill humour. He decided, however, not to persevere, and with a complete change of subject asked if she could ride.
She didn’t attempt to hide her surprise. ‘Well, of course I can ride!’
‘In that case you may send word to the stables to have my bay and the chestnut saddled and awaiting us in the Square in fifteen minutes.’
‘Can you make it twenty, my lord?’ she asked, pausing at the door. ‘I must seek out Brindle and apologise to him for my behaviour earlier.’
‘Do not consider me for a moment, child,’ he responded with gentle irony. ‘I shall quite naturally await your convenience.’
It was only by dint of tapping into those deep reserves of self-control that prevented his lordship from bursting into laughter when, half an hour later, they left the house together in order to set off for their ride. She took one look at the chestnut gelding, held securely in the groom’s hand, and her jaw dropped perceptibly as she muttered loud enough for him to hear, ‘Oh, my, I never thought of that!’
He realised at once that it wasn’t so much the horse as the saddle that had brought about mild consternation on her part. Unfortunately, unless he wished to give rise to a deal of gossip and speculation about her, which he had done his utmost to avoid thus far, he could hardly startle the groom by demanding a side-saddle be put on the chestnut. Sensible girl that she was, she quickly realised this herself, and mounted the gelding without further ado and, more importantly, without requesting assistance.
By the time they had ridden out of the Square, Lord Fincham was convinced she was well on the way to mastering the foreign saddle. By the time they had reached Hyde Park, he was satisfied she was an extremely competent horsewoman, possessed of a fine seat and a gentle pair of hands. All the same, he veered on the side of caution and decided to keep to the less crowded areas of the park so that she might enjoy the exercise without having to concentrate on avoiding other riders and the numerous open carriages that filed into the park at, this, the most fashionable hour to be seen abroad. Besides which, he thought it was time to discover a little more about her if he could.
He began with what he considered a fairly safe gambit, and one that wasn’t likely to arouse suspicion. ‘You ride very well, Georgie, my boy. Who taught you?’
‘My godfather, sir,’ she answered promptly enough. Then, smiling faintly, ‘He was lucky enough to keep a horse or two.’
‘Is that so?’ He considered her for a moment in silence. ‘Forgive me if I am in error, Georgie, but I gained the impression from something you said that there was no one responsible for you.’
‘No, you are not wrong, my lord.’ She never attempted to look at him, but continued to stare straight ahead between the chestnut’s ears. ‘My godfather died earlier this year.’
He detected a distinct catch in her voice as she said this, and so decided not to dwell on a subject that had clearly evoked painful memories. None the less, what he had discovered about her thus far, and her general behaviour, only went to confirm what he had suspected from the first.
‘Would I be correct in thinking you were never in service before joining my household, child?’
A moment’s silence, then, ‘You would, my lord. But neither have I lived the life of the privileged few. As I told you, for many years my mother was a cook-housekeeper. I was given an assortment of tasks to do round the vicarage. I was not encouraged to be idle. And my godfather, who resided not too far distant, kept many animals,’ she added, as they returned to one of the main tracks. ‘He especially liked pigs—restful creatures, he called them. I spent a great deal of time with him … and the pigs.’
His lordship was positive she was telling the truth, as far as it went. Yet, it didn’t go anywhere near far enough. There was something fundamental she was keeping to herself. Unfortunately he was denied the opportunity to probe further by the sudden appearance of an open carriage. To have attempted to avoid the encounter by turning his mount in another direction would have been to offer the cut direct, and he had no intention of doing so to the lady whose generous hospitality he had enjoyed the previous evening.
‘Great heavens, Fincham!’ the Duchess of Merton exclaimed, as her open carriage drew to a halt. ‘Twice in as many days! I’m astonished! You usually avoid parading with the fashionable as a rule.’
‘Not always, your Grace. Furthermore, I’ve never attempted to avoid you.’
This clearly pleased her. ‘Oh, you wicked creature! If only I were ten years younger! You see, Lavinia,’ she added, turning to the vapid young lady beside her, ‘you should always heed your mama’s advice. I have warned you to avoid such notorious flirts.’
‘Unjust, your Grace!’ his lordship protested, rising to the occasion by appearing affronted. ‘It can never be said of Fincham that he flirted with innocence.’
She favoured him with an arch look. ‘Well, yes, that’s true enough, I suppose,’ she acknowledged, before stretching forwards to tap the coachman on the shoulder with her parasol.
As soon as the carriage had moved away, the Viscount beckoned Georgie to ride alongside again. ‘You see now, child, why I avoid this place as a rule, at least at this hour of the day. You are obliged to exchange pleasantries with those you least wish to meet.’
At this admission questioning eyes scrutinised his profile. ‘But I thought you liked the duchess, my lord. You seemed very friendly towards her last night.’
‘It would be the height of bad taste to ignore one’s hostess, my dear child. Furthermore, I cannot help but feel a grudging respect for her. Merton is not an easy man, and certainly not one whose company I would seek too often, either.’
There was a hint of speculation in the eyes that remained glued to his lordship’s physiognomy. ‘You prefer his brother, perhaps—Lord Rupert Gyles?’
He considered for a moment. ‘Yes, I suppose I do, even though he can be quite feckless on occasions. However, unlike me, he is generally a very sociable, easygoing soul.’
‘But last night, sir, you seemed very sociable, most especially when you were with Sir Willoughby Trent, and the duchess,’ his companion reminded him, turning to stare straight ahead again, ‘though I didn’t perfectly understand what you were talking about. It puzzled me. Something the duchess said puzzled me.’
‘Indeed? And what was it that bewildered you so much?’ his lordship asked, in a mood to be indulgent.
‘She said something about. “the favoured five".’ A troubled frown marred the perfection of a fine young forehead. ‘But there were dozens and dozens present last night who have been blessed to live a life of luxury. Which five was she referring to in particular?’
‘Ah!’ Enlightenment dawned swiftly enough, but the Viscount dismissed the topic with a wave of one shapely hand. ‘It is nothing, child, a mere bagatelle.’
‘Oh, do tell, my lord! It’s so intriguing!’
‘It would seem, Georgie, my lad, you can be tiresomely persistent when the mood takes you.’ Although he sighed, he was once again inclined to be indulgent. ‘Very well. A few high-ranking society hostesses, her Grace the Duchess of Merton included, coined the name for a small group of gentlemen whom Lady Luck seemed to favour at the gaming tables. They have earned the reputation for playing for high stakes. It is perhaps fortunate, therefore, that they win rather more than they lose, as a rule. As I said, child, it is a piece of nonsense.’
‘But you haven’t told me who these gentlemen are, my lord,’ Georgie reminded him, clearly eager to learn more.
‘Your curiosity is insatiable!’ he scolded, but then immediately afterwards relented when he received a look of wounded pride. ‘Oh, very well. You met two of the group last night—Sir Willoughby and the duchess’s own brother-in-law, Lord Rupert Gyles.