Page 59 of A Symphony for the Earl

He frowned. “Doing what?”

“Raising your eyebrows at me. It is a very vexing habit, condescending and imperious all at the same time.”

“I will try to control myself.” She had the impression he was amused, although he didn’t smile. “I brought Octavia home, you know. She is anxious to see you.”

“Octavia’s home! Oh, I have missed her. The house has been very quiet without her exuberance.”

“Really? I would have thought the excitement of the past week more than sufficient.”

He settled the pair, who skittered at a chimney sweep emerging from the shadows. Fiona watched the man cross the street, his very tall broom in hand.

“Do you drive, Fiona?”

“Indifferently, I am afraid.”

“That is how you described your riding, but it is quite beyond the pale.”

“I never said I couldn’t ride, only that I did not enjoy it. We practically lived on horses in Barbados.”

“What happened then?”

She deliberately looked away, but he didn’t press her, and she sighed in capitulation. “While riding out on the plantation, a wild pig came out of the brush. My horse reared, and I had a messy fall. I struck my head on a fallen limb and fractured an arm. I have never forgotten it, no matter how I try.”

He nodded. “A good horse like Della will help, but it takes time. I’m happy to give you driving instruction should you desire to learn.”

“Really? A notable whip teaching a novice? I am amazed.”

“You know, Fiona, I am not quite the ogre you paint me to be.”

She had the grace to blush. “It’s nothing personal, Lord Richard. I just don’t wish to be married to you.”

“Richard, please,” he corrected. “And I consider that to be very personal. You agree marriage is inevitable in your future, Fiona, yet you don’t find my offer worth consideration. May I ask why?”

“Because we are so completely different. You thrive on order and custom, and I find such things stifling. I am accustomed to independence, and cannot bear someone telling me what to do, or how I must behave.”

“Is there nothing about your life in London that pleases you?”

Fiona squirmed in the comfortable seat. It would not be truthful to say she entirely disliked her new life. How could she admit she wanted a more tractable husband who would let her do what she liked?

“It certainly took discipline to develop your musical skill. I’m told you practice three, sometimes four hours a day.”

“It’s not the same thing at all. Music is freedom of expression. It is the very definition of living.”

“And you think I would stifle that? That, once married, I would try to stamp out your creativity, to oppress you? Why? Do you see the other members of my family so sorely abused?”

She glanced at his set profile in dismay.

“Now I have offended you,” she said miserably. “I didn’t mean to.”

“It does not matter.” He urged the horses to a faster trot. “Our engagement is announced and it cannot be undone. We shall be married by Easter.”

“So s-soon?” she stammered. “Impossible…no one is married within a month—not even you.”

“You are wrong. I shall bully people and manipulate circumstances as is my custom in your eyes, and it will happen.”

The short distance that remained passed in uncomfortable silence. When they reached Merrick House, he remained in his seat as the groom came forward to assist her from the curricle. When she stepped clear, Richard called to Hansen, who stood at the door.

“Hansen, please see Miss Rafferty safely inside. You may inform Lady Amelia that I am going to my club. I will return late and answer any questions in the morning.”