A Kiss from the Heart (11 page)

With the subject neatly changed, she knew better than to persist. She could tell that he was not going to be easily won over!

‘Most likely, he is too much of a man's man,' she decided, picking up her fan and spreading it across her face in what she felt was a coquettish and delightful pose. ‘All that time spent with his Regiment – '

The conversation did not flow freely that evening.

The Earl answered all her questions briefly and no amount of fluttering on the part of Lady Waterton appeared to soften his disposition.

As much as possible he only addressed himself to her out of politeness, preferring to talk to Alec or to remain silent.

The Countess sat at the head of the table and grew increasingly frustrated with him. This was not how she had envisaged the evening would progress!

As the last dishes were cleared at the end of the meal, the Earl dabbed his mouth and announced,

“Mama, I am now thinking of re-employing Miss Jenkins – Papa's old secretary. I fear that I am unable to cope with the amount of estate paperwork and if we are to return the house to its former glory, then I will need help.”

“What a splendid idea, Robert! She is undoubtedly a suitable and upright woman and I will be happy to have her back at the Hall. Your father spoke so very highly of her diligence.”

“And I have also asked Miranda Whitby to help me with overseeing the workmen.”

This remark was met with a stony silence and his mother's face took on a sour air.

“Do you mean that I shall have to endure that little ragamuffin in my house?”

The Earl was taken aback. He had not expected such a reaction.

Flying to Miranda's defence, he replied,

“But Mama, she is grown up now and quite the young lady!”

“Nonsense, once a tomboy always a tomboy. I had thought that her aunt had found her some Lord or other to marry in London?”

The Earl did not know how to respond. Surely his mother was not harbouring a grudge after all this time?

He remembered that his mother had never forgiven Miranda for the snowdrift accident and that she had unfairly blamed the girl totally, even though she had saved him.

“I think Miss Whitby would have mentioned to me if she was engaged,” he said in a tone that belied his inner turmoil. “And I hardly think her future fiancé would be happy with her working alongside another man if that was indeed the case.”

The Countess showed her disdain by tutting loudly. She did not want to quell his sudden rush of enthusiasm on taking control of the estate, but on the other hand –

‘Miranda Whitby!' she muttered to herself.

Lady Waterton was feeling quite uneasy during this exchange. She did not fancy the sound of another young woman entering the scene one little bit!

She could not afford for anyone to step in her way and snatch the object of her mission.

After coffee the Countess announced that she was tired and that she believed Alec was looking a little pale.

“You must not exert yourself, my darling,” she said rising from the table.

The Earl leapt to his feet.

“No, Robert. Do please stay and keep our guest company. Alec and I shall see you in the morning.”

She took Alec's arm and swept out of the room, leaving the Earl feeling somewhat ruffled that he had been left with Lady Waterton.

“I would offer you a brandy, but I do not expect you are very fond of strong liquor,” began the Earl, hoping he would be able to escape to the drawing room and enjoy a quiet cigar.

He looked at the turquoise-clad vision next him and thought that she put him in mind of a large fishing fly!

Although she had charms, any attraction he might have felt for her had been washed away by the vision of Miranda's soft grey eyes.

“Oh, I am very fond of brandy!” she replied rising from her seat with a broad smile.

Her green eyes looked up invitingly at him as she moistened her lips. He noticed that her dress had the most enormous bustle he had ever seen and that it swayed like a howdah on top of an elephant as she walked.

‘Goodness, this woman will not take the hint!' he thought despairingly, as she took his arm and allowed him to lead her to the drawing room.

Stringer poured two brandies and left the room.

The Earl need not have worried about what to say to Lady Waterton, as she chattered on at him until midnight struck. Eventually, pleading exhaustion, he attempted to retire for the night.

“So soon?” she pouted. “And I was so enjoying our discussion!”

“I am afraid I must rise early, as Miss Whitby will be arriving for her first day's work tomorrow.”

“Oh, just give her some correspondence to work on to keep her occupied!” she said with a dismissive gesture.

Immediately he rose to Miranda's defence.

“She is not my secretary – she is too talented for mere office work,” he retorted, as calmly as he could. “I have another lady I hope to engage for that post, the Miss Jenkins I mentioned earlier at dinner.”

“But, I had thought it would be nice if you took me riding tomorrow morning to show me your estate!”

‘This woman really is persistent,' he fumed to himself. Aloud he said stiffly,

“I have many matters to attend to tomorrow. We shall see.”

“Oh, but your mother has already said that she will not be at home tomorrow morning and I'll be quite alone. How shall I occupy myself?”

Faced with the prospect of upsetting his mother, the Earl realised that he could not win this argument. He rose from his chair saying,

“Very well, a short ride then. But I shall have to see Miss Whitby first.”

“Of course,” she murmured with more than a hint of victory.

As they reached her bedroom door, the Earl bowed.

“Goodnight.”

“Yes, goodnight. I shall look forward to our ride!”

Turning around sharply, he did not wait for her to close her door.

He could not make a fast enough escape.

‘Blasted woman!' he mumbled, as he entered his room, untying his cravat. ‘Blasted, blasted woman!'

*

Very reluctantly, the next morning he dressed in his riding habit and went down to breakfast.

Alec, he thought, looked a little pale and Lady Waterton, who constantly chattered beside him, did not aid his torpor.

‘Does the woman not know when to keep silent?' he fumed, as Alec politely answered question after question.

His mother had already taken a carriage to Malvern to meet with the Lord Mayor to discuss plans for a statue of his father in the market square.

Just then Stringer entered the dining room.

“My Lord, Miss Whitby is now in the study waiting to see you.”

His spirits lifted at the very mention of her name.

Not only could he not wait to see her, but also her arrival offered a temporary rescue from his unwanted companion.

He arose and excused himself, while Lady Waterton frowned after him, unhappy for his attention to be diverted away from her.

Striding quickly towards the study, the Earl's heart was beating faster by the second.

As he entered, the scent of meadows greeted him.

Miranda was in a simple cotton dress and paisley shawl that reminded him of a type made in India.

“I am so pleased to see you!” he cried, as he shook her hand formally.

Her hands were clad in thin cotton gloves, but the warmth of her fingers delighted him. He wished he could have taken her in his arms and embraced her.

“I can see that you do need help!” she exclaimed, taking her hand away from his and waving it over the piles of paper on the desk.

“Ah, but that will all be Miss Jenkins's province! I have not had the opportunity to contact her. Would you be so good as to discover her whereabouts and write to her, enquiring after her availability? I don't know what I shall do if she is otherwise engaged!”

“At once! Papa has given me an address for her. I shall send a message round to her cottage, if you can spare a stable boy for the errand? She lives in the next village and I am certain that hearing she is once more required at Ledbury Hall will have her drop whatever she is doing!”

The Earl laughed.

How her face became animated and alive when she was enthusing about something. It was as if someone had lit a candle inside her.

“And now, I am afraid I have some bad news as my Mama has burdened me with the mission of entertaining a guest. I shall have to leave shortly and take her for a ride.”

“Don't worry, I can see I have plenty to do here! I shall sift through these papers and see which Miss Jenkins can handle and which I can. I will also need to familiarise myself with your schedule of work. Do you have such a thing?”

“It is in that grey notebook over there,” replied the Earl, surprised at her efficiency.

Miranda picked up the notebook. Flicking through the pages she soon came to the list of works and nodded her head wisely.

“I shall draw up a list of builders who can demolish the old barns and clear the land. Is there livestock that will require moving?”

“I believe there is a flock of sheep.”

“And the shepherd?”

“He lives in a cottage on the other side of Flodder's meadow – ”

Their eyes met in recognition of that day sixteen years earlier when it had been the scene of his dramatic rescue.

The Earl held her gaze for so long that she began to blush. Quickly she looked down and concentrated on the notebook.

“Leave this with me. When will you return?”

“I will return as soon as Lady Waterton allows!”

Miranda permitted herself the luxury of one raised eyebrow but did not comment.

“We shall take luncheon together later,” he said, stepping towards the door.

Out in the hall, Lady Waterton was pacing up and down with an impatient look upon her face.

The Earl did not allow her the opportunity to berate him, but simply picked up his riding crop from the console table and took his hat from Stringer.

“This way,” he called curtly.

Lady Waterton felt quite hurt that he had not passed comment on her new riding habit, which was, she thought, a rather fetching ensemble in rust-coloured valencia.

He did not speak one word to her unless it was to issue instructions.

Lady Waterton felt a little uneasy, but she was not one to be put off by a man playing hard to get.

As they later pounded across the green fields in the summer sunshine, she marvelled at how well he handled his fine stallion. She could tell that Monty was a highly-strung beast and she would never have dared to mount him.

After a short while, they came to a halt at a pleasant tumulus on top of a hill.

The wind tugged at Lady Waterton's reddish hair and a few wisps came free from her hairnet.

“How much of the land I can see is yours?”

“Most of it is to the West and as far as that ruined barn to the East,” he answered in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Am I right in thinking that you also have other properties? Your mother mentioned a castle in Scotland and one in Ireland.”

“Yes, but the Scottish castle belongs to Mama. It will pass to me when she dies.”

An avaricious light glinted in Lady Waterton's eyes as she took in the information.

“The Templeton's are a very powerful family,” she murmured. “I had not realised. I expect many Dowagers will have you in their sights as a worthy catch for their daughters!”

“There have indeed been one or two, but I am not interested in marriage – or women! So they do not trouble me overly.”

With that he dug his heels into Monty's side and the stallion shot off over the barrow and down the hill.

Lady Waterton had to struggle to keep up.

They were almost returned to the Hall before she realised the route they were now taking. She sighed with disappointment as her horse slowed down to a trot – its hooves clattering over the cobbles of the stable yard.

Before she could speak, the Earl had dismounted and was rushing away towards the house.

“Please forgive me, but I am most anxious to return to my work,” he said, as he waved two grooms over to help Lady Waterton dismount. “I shall see you this evening at dinner, no doubt.”

Without waiting for a reply, he strode off, leaving her speechless with fury.

‘How dare he run off and leave me at the mercy of two strange grooms!' she fumed.

“Lord Templeton!” cried Miranda, as the study door flew open and a rather dusty Earl plunged through it. “I did not expect you for hours yet!”

“Oh, Lady Waterton was tired,” he told her, taking off his hat and flinging it down on a chair. “These City folk do not have our kind of stamina! And, oh,” he added. “I wish you to call me Robert. We are equals.”

“Very well, Robert, I do have good news for you! Here is a note from Miss Jenkins. She will start tomorrow if that suits you.”

“You are just an angel sent down from Heaven!” he answered with a lingering look that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. “Thank you
so
much!”

“I have also drawn up a list of builders for you to interview,” continued Miranda. “And I have made an appointment for an architect to visit us tomorrow to discuss the new dairy.”

“Words fail me, Miranda! You are a marvel – a paragon!”

“It is only my first day,” she said, looking down at her nails with a shy smile. “I may yet disappoint you.”

“
Never
!” cried the Earl, throwing his whole heart into a solitary word.

Their reverie was now abruptly interrupted by the Countess striding unannounced into the room. Behind her was Stringer with a tray of covered dishes.

The Earl looked at his watch. It was too early for luncheon, surely?

“Ah, Robert, you are back. The servants' luncheon is ready and Stringer has brought Miss Whitby's meal for her.”

There was a tense silence while the full meaning behind her words sank in.