“Of course, Miss Tess.”
“You will never abandon me, will you?” She jumped down from her perch and knelt beside his chair, slipping a slender arm around his more muscular one. “You know how much I love you, and you are my only true friend — the only one I can depend upon absolutely. You will always help me when I am in need, will you not?”
“Now, now, Miss Tess, how can you doubt it, after all I did for you last year? You wanted me to go to him and ask for your hand, and didn’t I do exactly that? And got thoroughly yelled at for my pains as a presumptuous upstart, which I have to say is nothing but the truth, but you wanted it, so I did it. You know how grateful I am to you for helping me establish my little business. I’d do anything to repay you for that.”
“That’s not very gallant, Tom. You should do it because you love me. You do love me, do you not?”
He shifted uneasily on the chair. “Between a lady and a woodworker, there’s no call to talk about love, Miss Tess. Let’s say I’m very fond of you and leave it at that.”
“Fond of me?” she said softly, dropping a chaste kiss onto his delicious mouth. “Fondof me, Tom?” Another kiss. “How fond, precisely?”
A third kiss, a lot less chaste, did the trick, and for a while there was silence in the workshop, apart from the disapproving banging of pans in the kitchen as Betty tidied up.
“There, you see?” Tess murmured, when Tom finally pulled away with a rueful smile.
“You always could twist me around your little finger,” Tom said. “But you’ll have to look elsewhere for a husband, Miss Tess.Your father’s will means you have to marry a gentleman, not a woodworker.”
“Well, we shall see about that,” she said. “At least now I shall soon know precisely what my dowry is, just as soon as the lawyers have tracked it down.”
“But it may not be very much, they said,” Tom said. “A few thousand. Were you expecting more?”
“A fortune — that is the word used in the will, so yes, I am expecting a lot more, and it is not at Corland. At least, if it is, it is very well hidden.”
“It will be in the bank, won’t it?”
“Perhaps. There is a house at Pickering, too. It must be somewhere, Tom, and it is not just a few thousand, either. It is alotmore than that, I know it.”
“Wishful thinking, Miss Tess?”
“No, not at all. It is a vast fortune, and I know it exists because I have seen it.”
***
Edward, Lord Tarvin, was in the best of good humours. Three years after the death of his uncle and his assumption of the honours of the barony, he at last had his life ordered precisely to his liking. The first year the family had been in deep mourning, and there had been so much to be done at Harfield Priory, his principal seat, that he had been able to make no more than a few swift dashes to town for recreational purposes. The following year, both his aunt and his mother had spent the entire season in town, and almost driven him mad with their attempts to pair him off with an eligible female. Last year, he had persuaded his aunt to retire from the fray, leaving only his mother to irritate him. But this year… ah, this year he had contrived to exile both the ladies to the Priory, and he had theGrosvenor Street house to himself. With all the principal rooms swathed in holland covers, there was no entertaining to be done, no feminine presence, nothing to interfere with his pleasant bachelor existence.
Today was Sunday, too, his favourite day of the week. His first agreeable duty was to write his weekly report to his mother. He had removed her from town by the simple expedient of telling her that her presence at his side inhibited all but the most dreary of marital prospects. No woman wanted to marry a man whose mother was forever at his shoulder, whispering in his ear, he had assured her. The price for her withdrawal to County Durham was a weekly letter from him, informing her of every dance partner, every meeting in Hyde Park, every chance encounter at Hookham’s or the theatre with a suitable girl. The hour he spent on this creative endeavour was entirely worthwhile, he was sure.
‘To Mrs Edward Harfield, Harfield Priory, County Durham. My dear Mother, I hope this finds you well and enjoying pleasant weather. Be assured that I am in the best of health, and although there has been much rain in the past weeks, we are now enjoying a spell of fine, settled weather, conducive to many outdoor activities. This week alone, I have received invitations to a Venetian breakfast, an expedition to Richmond and to Vauxhall Gardens. On Tuesday last, I attended a rout where I met again Lady E W, who graciously conversed with me for some ten minutes or so. Also there was Miss Y, but I hear rumours that she is on the brink of an engagement, so I shall remove her from my list of young ladies of interest. Also on Tuesday, at a card party in Grosvenor Square, I saw Lady J M, but not to speak to. On Wednesday…’
He sighed. So many tedious and entirely predictable girls, smirking and fluttering their fans. As if he would marry any of them! Some were pretty and some danced well and some wereaccomplished musicians and one or two could even converse rationally, but there was not one of them who said or did anything to surprise him. He could not bear to spend the rest of his life entirely unsurprised. So he went through the motions of looking for a wife, without the least intention of finding one. But at least the weekly letters kept his mother safely tucked away at the Priory.
Three pages were required to encompass all the encounters with possible future Lady Tarvins, and some of them had even happened. He sanded, folded and sealed this missive, franked it and left it in the basket to be taken to the Post Office. Two less carefully crafted letters quickly joined it, after which it was time to walk down to St George’s church for divine service, and another opportunity to rub shoulders with the higher ranks who inhabited the elegant streets of Mayfair.
And then, oh joy, his time of freedom. By the time he had returned to Grosvenor Street and changed into riding clothes, his horse had been brought round for him, his small overnight bag already strapped on.
“I shall be back on Tuesday morning, as usual,” Edward said to his valet.
“Very good, my lord.”
“If anyone asks for me—”
“You have gone out of town for a couple of days.”
“Precisely so. If need be, you may mention that you believe I am visiting my former professor, and you have no idea where he lives.”
“Of course.” The valet bowed. “Enjoy your visit, my lord.”
“Oh, I will. I certainly will.” Edward chuckled as he mounted agilely into the saddle. “Until Tuesday morning, Deakin.”
