‘Then may I suggest we return to the dower house. We could arrange to cover the northern part of the estate tomorrow, if it is fine weather. I would not wish you to become faint through lack of sustenance.’
‘You mean you cannot face any more “lessons” today, Sir Rowland.’
‘I rather think of it as extending the pleasure, since I will have the advantage of anticipation, ma’am.’
‘Very clever, sir.’
‘Not clever, Miss Lound, just truthful.’
She glanced at him, her face questioning. He found179it strangely touching. She was considerably older than Miss Banham, and more worldly wise for certain, and yet in some ways even more innocent. She had no experience of being courted and complimented by a man, and could not believe such words, addressed to her, were genuine.
‘I admit I am a little hungry, Sir Rowland,’ she mumbled, and looked down, unable to keep eye contact.
‘Then we shall not abandon our task, but reserve the second part for tomorrow. It will also enable me to make notes on what I have learnt today.’
‘There is no test,’ Mary replied, laying stress upon it.
‘Indeed no, but what you have imparted to me is exceedingly useful, Miss Lound, and I ought to set the information down lest I forget important details. If there are any gaps, I will have no compunction tomorrow in requesting you to repeat things, thus showing up my inability to retain all I have heard. However, if we are to return to the dower house it must be you who lead the way, for one lane still looks much like another to me, and I can only get my bearings by the position of sun and scarp.’
‘I will not leave you lost, Sir Rowland. This way, then.’ She forked to the right where the main part of the lane turned left, and set off along a track, prey to jumbled thoughts, most of which were unhappy.
180
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Sir Rowland declined the offer to stay to partake of a luncheon, an offer that was made automatically by a Miss Lound deep in her own thoughts, and led his horse to the back of the dower house grounds and out through the wicket gate to lope easily across the parkland to his own stables. He also was prey to thoughts, but they were not as gloomy as those of Miss Lound, though muddled in parts.
The encounter with Cradley and Miss Banham had been in many ways unfortunate, and yet also illuminating. It did not take a genius to grasp that Miss Banham must be the beauty of the district, and fêted by the local gentlemen. Had Miss Lound, wondering how to make herself attractive to a man for perhaps the first time in her life, assumed that gentlemen were only attracted to181the Miss Banhams of life? If only she knew, whispered an inner voice, that those aspects of character which so appealed to him were those which she thought might gain a friend but could not inspire the tender emotions.
‘And that is what I am as yet so unsure of,’ he said out loud, making his horse’s ears twitch back to listen. ‘Does she, will she, inspire the “tender emotions” in me or am I just enjoying the novelty of a very unusual female? Sometimes she thinks in such a way that I understand her as I might a man, and then she goes off at a tangent which leaves me wondering. Does she think her person unattractive as she does her character? Surely she cannot be that blind?’ This question had to be rhetorical, and after a moment Sir Rowland followed a different train of thought.
‘Why was she so upset the moment we encountered Cradley and Miss Banham? She and Cradley are openly at odds, and good for her, I say, but she did not make a sound indicative of anger, more of disappointment. Was this because our very enjoyable morning was to be disrupted? It could only be so for a few minutes. Or was it because she did not want me to meet the divine Miss Banham? Now, since I am the “fish” she hopes to hook, you might say, yes, you might, that it was simply that she does not want me to be distracted from her. At the same time, could it mean that she also looks upon me in a less calculating manner as well? What do you think, old fellow?’
Being a horse, the ‘old fellow’ gave no reply. It was a182not unhopeful Sir Rowland who handed his mount over to the groom and strode back to the house, where he met his brother emerging from the library with an open book in his hand.
‘Ah, the studious student. Has the morning gone well, Tom?’
‘Fairly well. You sound in good humour for a man I did not expect to see until mid-afternoon at the earliest.’
‘I think I am.’
‘Cogito ergo sum?’
‘Er, not Descartes, no. The morning went very well as far as it went, and then it halted, and I decided it best to try again tomorrow. Miss Lound has escorted me about the southern portion of the estate and I know that Nathaniel Shaw’s wife is expecting their seventh child, the tenant of Crossways Farm, and alas I have forgotten his name, has a shire stallion that is taken round half the county and brings him enough money so that he has built a new hay barn this year, and if Joshua Pilton ever tells me things are “not going so good” it means disaster must be right around the corner, because he is forever the optimist. It also appears that I am the proud possessor of the best estate in Gloucestershire, even though it is not the largest. In this, I feel Miss Lound was not unbiased.’ Sir Rowland grinned.
‘Did you get a word in edgewise?’
‘Oh, I was more than happy to listen, and her tongue did not run away with her, I promise you. She knows an awful lot about the place, and I had already rather183gathered that it has been she, rather than her sire, who saw to the day-to-day overseeing of the estate for some years, in part because he was a martyr to gout and did not get out much, and also because he was not very interested.’
‘And she is?’
‘Very. What is more, she has the respect of the tenants.’
‘So, you will have an even tougher task in taking that place.’ Tom pulled a face. ‘Unenviable.’
‘Perhaps.’ Sir Rowland was caught between acknowledging that what his brother said was true, and admiring just how well Miss Lound epitomised the fair and thoughtful landlord.
Lady Damerham, who had been imagining how the morning ride had gone, almost interrogated her daughter over luncheon. She was concerned that Mary might have explicitly told Sir Rowland that she had effectively run the estate during her father’s latter years, and begged her not to mention the quarterly accounts or ‘anything about business’.
