“My name is Annabelle Marsh, and you have already met my daughter Laura.”
“And shall I have the pleasure of meeting Mr. Marsh in due course?”
“My husband died over a year ago. Laura and I constitute the entire Marsh family now.”
“I am very sorry for your loss, ma’am. My father died fairly recently also. As you will understand, it has been a great loss for my mother and me. She is staying with Lady Crofton at Belfort at present. Are you acquainted with her ladyship?”
“I fear I can claim only a nodding acquaintance with Lady Crofton, but I shall be happy to have a message taken to Belfort immediately apprising them of your present whereabouts.”
Jack thanked his kind hostess profusely, explaining, “I am an only child also, and my mother tends to worry overmuch about my health and safety these days since my father’s life was claimed in an accident. I should be very grateful if you can send word to Belfort. It will relieve her mind.”
Mrs. Marsh was already on her feet, but at that moment Burns entered the room after a tap on the door and informed them that someone in Lord Hastings’ employ had just arrived inquiring for his master.
“That would be Huckston, my groom —”
“Send him up at once, Burns,” Mrs. Marsh said.
CHAPTER THREE
“Gone?”Laura stared aghast at her mother. “How can that be, Mama? He was in no condition to travel!”
“Indeed, I quite agree with you, dearest, but once his servant arrived with the traveling carriage, Lord Hastings was adamant about leaving. He —”
“I beg your pardon, Mama, but who is this Lord Hastings, and what had he to say about whether Mr. Johnson was fit to travel?”
“Well, you see, dearest, Lord HastingsisMr. Johnson — or perhaps I should say Mr. Johnson is Lord Hastings. Evidently there was some sort of misunderstanding last night about his identity,” Mrs. Marsh added as her daughter’s indignation changed to blank surprise and back again.
“But hetoldme his name was Johnson! Do you not remember that you asked me his name at breakfast this morning, Mama, and I told you he was Mr. Johnson?”
“Yes, but when I addressed him as such this afternoon, he denied that his name was Johnson. He did say you had called him that last night, although to be strictly accurate, I should say he thought I had called him Mr. Johnson last night. He mistook me for you when he woke up to find me in his room,” Mrs. Marsh explained.
Studying her parent’s slightly pinkened cheeks with a sapient eye, Laura declared, “You have only to tell me that he asked you to marry him, Mama, to confirm my belief that our late guest is a dangerous lunatic and we are well rid of him!”
“Now you are being completely nonsensical, Laura,” Mrs. Marsh said, with an assumption of dignity that was belied by a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “I found Lord Hastings to be a perfectly rational young man with charming manners.”
“You only think him charming because he flattered you, and what proof do we have that he is Lord Hastings or Lord Anybody? For all we know of the man, he may assume a new identity every day of the week. And why was he in such a hurry to leave when he knew the doctor had ordered him to remain flat for several days for the sake of his brain? He could be running from the law; the Bow Street Runners may be on his trail. We may have been harbouring a dangerous criminal in our home!”
Twin devils danced in Laura’s eyes as she warmed to her subject, but Mrs. Marsh brought her daughter’s flight of imagination to a close, saying calmly, “Now, that is quite enough, my dear. The injured man had told me he was Lord Hastings and that his widowed mother, who worries about her only child, was staying with Lady Crofton at Belfort. I was about to send word to Belfort when his groom arrived looking for Lord Hastings. He came to the house after learning about the accident in the village. If you still find anything sinister about the situation you may consult with Lady Crofton, although I would strongly advise you against confiding your lunatic theory to Lady Hastings.”
Laura grinned at her mother’s dry tone while imparting this advice. The two women were in the parlour awaiting the call to dinner. They had not met since breakfast, Laura having spent the entire day with Mr. Judson planning the spring planting schedule and discussing various aspects of the business of running the farm. Much of their discussion had taken place in the big warm kitchen presided over by Mrs. Judson, who had been trying to fatten Laura up for several years. A pressing invitation from her buxom hostess to sup with the family had led to the consumption of a gargantuan meal in the company of the farmer’s five lively children, ranging from fifteen-year-old Jem down to baby Polly, a doll-like creature of two-and-a-half, who ended up in Laura’s lap where she dozed off amidst the noisyhum of family interactions. The children’s initial shyness at finding “Miss Laura from the big house” seated at their table had quickly worn off, leading to some hilarious, unguarded speech, and Laura had lost sight of the time in her enjoyment of the novel situation.
For the second evening in a row Laura had rushed through her dressing, postponing her original intention of looking in on the accident victim before dinner. Her casual inquiry into his condition upon entering the parlour had elicited the news of his unexpected departure from her mother. Her first intemperate reaction behind her, she sat across the hearth from her parent, digesting the information, a thoughtful crease in her brow.
Mrs. Marsh’s expression was also pensive and her gaze was fixed unwaveringly on her daughter’s face. After a moment she gave a little laugh and said brightly, “What on earth were you thinking, dearest, when you implied that Lord Hastings might have asked me to marry him? Such a ludicrous notion.”
“What? … oh, yes, of course … unthinkable,” Laura agreed, her eyes on her fingers busily combing through the long fringe of her paisley shawl.
“Except thatsomethingmust have put the thought into your mind.” When her daughter failed to respond to this invitation, Mrs. Marsh abandoned subtlety, asking bluntly, “Did Lord Hastings by any chance askyouto marry him, dearest?”
“I give up,” Laura said on an expelled breath. “Your intuition where I am concerned is unerring as usual, Mama. Yes, the demented creature, doubtless in a moment of delirium, did have the temerity to propose marriage to a stranger. At the very least, he is a frivolous person with a perverse sense of humour. Most likely he is a confirmed flirt, having been thoroughly spoiled by a doting mother. I would wager that a legion of foolish females has continued the work she started.” Suddenly convinced that she was babbling, Laura stopped abruptly.
“And what did you reply?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“How did you answer Lord Hastings’ proposal?”
“You would not have had me dignify such idiocy with a reply, surely?”
