“But of course.” He chuckled. “They are delightful young ladies, and who can resist cultivating delight?”
“I do not believe,” she said, “you expect me to answer that.”
“Indeed not,” he agreed. “It was a rhetorical question. But I will not be busy with themallthe time, Miss Osbourne. Someone might misconstrue my interest in them if I were. Besides, with them I have felt no moment of magic.”
He smiled down at her bonnet.
“I would ask you,” she said as their feet crunched over the gravel of the terrace before the house, her voice as cold as the Arctic ice, “not to speak to me with such levity, my lord. I do not know how to respond. And moreover I do notwishto respond. I do not wish to have you single me out on any future occasion. I wish you would not.”
Dash it all. Had he offended her more than he realized?
“Am I to look your way whenever we are in company together during the coming weeks, then, and pretend that I see only empty air?” he asked her. “I fear Edgecombe and his lady would consider me unpardonably ill-mannered. I shall bow to you each time instead and remark upon the fineness or inclemency of the weather—without drawing any comparisons with your person. Shall I? Will you tolerate that much attention from me?”
She hesitated.
“Yes,” she said, ending their conversation as monosyllabically as she had begun it.
Edgecombe must have observed their approach and was coming out through the front doors and down the horseshoe steps to greet them, a smile of welcome on his face.
“Youdidpersuade him to come, then, Frances,” he said, setting one hand at the small of the countess’s back and smiling briefly and warmly down at her. “Raycroft—good to see you again. And Whitleaf is staying with you? Thisisa pleasure. Do come inside. Did you enjoy the walk, Susanna? And did you find Mrs. and Miss Raycroft at home?”
He smiled kindly at the schoolteacher and offered her his arm, which she took without hesitation.
“We met Miss Raycroft at the fork in the road,” she said. “She was out walking with her brother and the Calvert sisters. We walked back to the village together and then on to Hareford House, where we took tea with Mrs. Raycroft. It was indeed a pleasant outing. There can be nowhere lovelier than the Somerset countryside.”
Her voice was light and happy. Peter smiled ruefully to himself as he followed them up the steps and into the house, the countess between him and Raycroft.
By the time he stepped over the threshold, Miss Osbourne was already moving off in the direction of the staircase without a backward glance.
“You will wish to entertain Mr. Raycroft and Lord Whitleaf in the library, Lucius,” the countess said. “We will not disturb you.”
“Thank you,” he said, setting a hand at her back again. “The vicar called. I daresay by now you know all about the village assembly the week after next?”
“Of course,” she said.
“I said we would attend,” he told her, “on condition that there be at least one waltz. The vicar has promised to see to it.”
He grinned at her and she smiled back, her face alight with amusement, before turning to follow Miss Osbourne up the stairs.
“Right.” Edgecombe turned his attention back to his visitors, rubbing his hands together as he did so. “Shall we step into the library? We will have some refreshments, and you can both tell me everything I missed in London during the Season. Ihaveheard that you are finally betrothed to Miss Hickmore, Raycroft. My felicitations. A fine choice, if you were to ask me.”
3
“I disliked him intensely,” Susanna replied bluntly when Francesasked her what she thought of Viscount Whitleaf.
“Did you?” Frances looked surprised. “But he is rather good-looking, is he not? And very charming, I have always thought.”
Susanna did not comment on his looks, though it seemed to her that he was considerably more than just “rather good-looking.”
“Calculatedlycharming,” she said as she removed her bonnet and fluffed up her curls with the visual aid of the mirror in her bedchamber while Frances stood in the doorway, twirling her own bonnet by its ribbons. “He does not utter a sincere word. I doubt he has a sincere thought.”
“Oh, dear.” Frances laughed. “Hedidmake a poor impression on you. I suppose he tried to flirt with you?”
“You heard what he said when we first met,” Susanna said, turning from the mirror and gesturing to the chair beside the dressing table.
Frances stepped into the room though she did not sit down.
“I thought his words rather amusing,” she admitted. “He did not mean to offend, you know. I daresay most ladies enjoy such flatteries from him.”
