The Husband Season (10 page)

‘Well, I got up into Sir Reginald’s high-perch phaeton and we rode in Hyde Park.’

‘Alone?’

‘Yes.’

‘Did anyone see you?’

‘The whole world, I should think.’

‘How daring of you. Are you going to marry Sir Reginald?’

‘Certainly not.’

‘Mr Fanshawe, then?’

‘Definitely not. I wish they had not come on this picnic.’

‘I thought you had invited them.’

‘Never. Sir Reginald is a friend of my brother and Mr Fanshawe is a neighbour of the Martindales in Norfolk. Speaking of the Martindales, where is Lucy?’

‘She is with her parents. I think she was sick in the carriage.’

‘Oh, then, I must go to her.’

‘I’ll come, too.’

With their arms about each other they returned to the rest of the party to commiserate with their friend. Now that the motion of the carriage had stopped, Lucy was feeling much better and joined Sophie and Cassie for a stroll along the riverbank. Sophie turned over the waist of her riding skirt to shorten it and stop it trailing in the dirt, unaware that she was exposing the bottom of her breeches tucked into her riding boots.

The sun shone from a cloudless blue sky that was reflected in the water, which sparkled as it rippled on its way to the capital, where it would become dirty and smelly. There were a few pleasure crafts making their way upstream, some laden barges being towed by horses on the towpath and anglers sitting on the bank, rod in hand, but they didn’t seem to be catching much.

‘I hate carriage rides,’ Lucy said, linking arms with the other two. ‘We had to keep stopping all the way from Norfolk to London, and I would as soon not have made the journey, but Mama was adamant that I had to have a Season or I would never find a husband. She has lined up a long list of gentlemen, not one of whom matches up to Mr Cavenhurst and I did not need to come to London to meet him.’

‘Not even Viscount Kimberley?’ Cassie said.

‘Of course not. You may rest easy, Cassie, and have the field all to yourself. If you can capture him, that is. He seems to take delight in laughing with Sophie.’

‘Laughing at the faux pas I keep making,’ Sophie said. ‘And scolding me. He has no right to censure me.’

‘I heard he has vowed never to marry again,’ Lucy put in.

‘Mama says to bear that no mind,’ Cassie said. ‘If he is sufficiently attracted he will succumb in the end.’

Sophie laughed. ‘I wonder what he would say if he could hear our conversation.’

* * *

Adam watched them go, relieved to see they were friends again. Miss Sophie Cavenhurst was not as uncaring as he had imagined. The scrapes she found herself in were largely due to ignorance of acceptable behaviour rather than mischief. It did not matter in present company—she was looked on with indulgence—but it could lead her into more serious trouble. Her brother was almost useless as a protector and Lady Cartrose too easy-going to restrain her. By all accounts her ladyship had been a bit wild herself in her youth.

He did wonder what Swayle and Fanshawe were up to. He had spoken to them, but as he had no business questioning what they did he had learned nothing. Both had said they had come upon her by chance and simply escorted her back to the party. It would not have been necessary if her brother had been doing his duty. Where was that young man? He had had time to ride all the way back to town and must surely have realised he had missed her. Mark’s warning about Toby Moore came to his mind. Something was afoot, and if it put Sophie in danger, then he had better keep his eyes and ears open. ‘You have dropped me right in the soup, haven’t you,’ he murmured, addressing his absent cousin.

It was not all Mark’s fault. He felt drawn to the lively girl who was bright and intelligent and did not seem to care a hoot for protocol. He suspected her apparent self-assurance masked a vulnerability she tried to hide from the world. Having two sisters who had both made excellent marriages and were making their mark in the world on their own account must be hard to emulate.

The girls turned away from the towpath and struck off across the grass and were soon lost to sight among some trees. He resisted the inclination to follow them and was surprised at how relieved he felt when he saw them returning. It was ridiculous to think anything bad could happen to her strolling in a park with friends, only yards from help if they should need it.

‘My lord,’ Reggie called out to him. ‘We are going to play cricket. Will you join us?’

He scrambled to his feet and joined the rest of the party who had fetched out a bat and ball and some stumps and were debating the rules of the game. ‘There are not enough of us for two sides,’ Richard said. ‘So it’s one batting against the rest, winner is the one with the most runs. Agreed?’

They marked out the pitch and tossed for who should bat first and Sir Reginald won. Adam was to bowl and the rest spread out to field, including Sophie. ‘Sophie, do come and sit down,’ her aunt called out to her. ‘You will be hit if you stand there.’

‘Not I.’ She laughed. ‘If the ball comes my way, I shall catch it and Reggie will be out.’

Adam grinned. She was full of surprises, that one, and apparently unaware of the disapproving looks of the ladies of the party. Or perhaps she did know and enjoyed shocking them. He ran up and delivered the first ball, which Reggie fumbled. Lord Martindale picked it up and returned it to him. He sent another one down, which Reggie hit in Sophie’s direction. She ran forward and caught it neatly.

‘Out!’ she cried triumphantly.

Reggie handed the bat to the next man and took his place in the field. And so it went on, but most of the men avoided hitting balls towards Sophie, and though she retrieved one or two balls, she was not given the opportunity to catch another. Mr Malthouse was out trying to avoid sending the ball in her direction. Adam was relieved of the bowling and Vincent took his place. Anxious to show his mettle, he bowled very fast, and one after the other fell until Adam came to the wicket.

It was obvious he knew what he was about. He piled up the runs and it seemed he would be there for the afternoon, but Sophie, who had been studying his game, came forward and a little to one side. When a ball flew towards her, she ran and caught it, though the speed of it stung her hand.

Even the ladies clapped, and Adam gave her a rueful grin. Her reply was to take the bat from his hand. ‘My turn.’

He did not argue with her, but gave the ball to Lord Martindale to bowl and she stood at the wicket, bat carefully positioned behind the mark they had made in the grass.

His lordship tossed a gentle ball down to her, which she thumped into the undergrowth and ran five runs while they searched for it. The second ball, when it was retrieved and bowled again, received the same treatment and so did a third.

Adam took over the bowling again and he did not spare her. She hit it, but was unable to direct it as she would have wished, and he ran forward and caught it himself. ‘Out, my valiant one,’ he said. ‘Let that teach you not to play games with men.’

There was more than cricket on his mind, she realised. It was a warning. It annoyed her. ‘And you should not play games with ladies,’ she retorted. ‘We fight back.’

He laughed, but it was not a derisive laugh, not the laughter that she had complained about to her friends. It was a laugh that told her he understood her and liked her pluck.

The exchange brought an end to the game and everyone prepared to go home. In the absence of Teddy, Adam decided to ride beside her on the way back and edged Reggie and Richard out of the way. She did not complain; his company was infinitely preferable to that of those two men.

‘When did you learn to play cricket?’ he asked her.

‘I used to play with Teddy and his school friends when they came home in the holidays. They wanted someone to make up the numbers. Sir Reginald was one of them.’

‘You have known him for some time?’

‘Yes. There is no harm in him, but he cannot accept that I will not marry him.’

‘Why not?’

‘I do not love him.’

‘That is important to you?’

‘Of course it is. It is the most important thing in a marriage. Don’t you agree?’

‘Indeed, I do.’

They were silent for a few minutes while they pondered on this. He had loved Anne more tenderly, more lastingly, than he could ever explain. Her death had been a terrible blow and had sent him spiralling down into an abyss of despair. He had gone about his business like an automaton, trying not to think, trying not to feel. He had come out of it a harder, colder man. On the surface he functioned well, but there was still that hollow feeling inside and a terrible feeling of guilt that he was to blame.

He pulled himself together and took up the conversation again. ‘You ride very well. You must have had a good teacher. Teddy again?’

He looked sideways at her with a slight upward tilt to his mouth. It was a strong mouth, she noticed, and wondered idly what it would be like to be kissed by him. ‘Yes, and our groom. I was put on a small pony as soon as I was big enough to sit on one.’

‘Astride, I have no doubt.’

She knew he was teasing. ‘Yes, there were no side-saddles small enough in the stables and I became used to it. It is much more comfortable both for me and my mount. Galloping side-saddle is a risky business.’

‘Ladies are not meant to gallop.’

‘This one is.’

‘What else can you do?’

She turned to look at him. Was he teasing her again? ‘Well, I can read and write and add up.’

‘Now you
are
bamming me.’

‘You asked for it.’

‘So I did. Read, write, add up, dance the waltz, play cricket, ride like the wind—is there no end to your accomplishments?’

‘I can shoot and fish.’

He laughed. ‘Did your brother teach you that, too?’

‘Of course.’

‘Did he teach you to gamble?’

‘No, he did not. He knows how ruinous it can be. Why did you ask that?’

‘No reason. You are very fond of him, are you not?’

‘Of course I am. He always had time for me when I was growing up, especially after my sisters married. He would take me about the estate and let me join in whatever he was doing. I would not have been able to come to London if he hadn’t offered to escort me.’

‘Where do you think he is now?’

‘I don’t know. Perhaps we will meet him coming back.’

‘Or perhaps he has given up looking for you and is waiting at home. After all, he must know you are safe surrounded by so many friends.’

‘Why wouldn’t I be safe?’ she asked sharply.

‘No reason that I know of,’ he said lightly. ‘Except you seem to attract trouble.’

‘Are you trying to frighten me?’

‘I think it would take more than a few words of caution to frighten you, Miss Cavenhurst.’

‘What am I being cautioned against?’

‘Nothing in particular, except perhaps inviting the reputation of being a hoyden.’

‘I am not a hoyden! But I don’t see why women cannot enjoy some of the things men enjoy. They are too stifled by convention.’

‘Convention is there to protect the weaker sex.’

‘It is there to make women subordinate to men,’ she retorted. ‘To feed their vanity and provide a breeding machine.’

‘Oh, dear, such cynicism in one so young. Do you think every man is like that?’

‘No, there are exceptions. Mark and Drew, for instance.’

‘Who is Drew?’

‘Sir Andrew Ashley. He is my other brother-in-law. He owns a clipper and takes his wife with him on all his adventures.’

‘So it is adventure you wish for?’

‘It might be fun.’

‘It might also be dangerous.’

‘Oh, we are back to the caution, are we?’

‘No, for I think I should be wasting my breath.’

She laughed. It was a happy sound. Sophie could not be serious for long. Richard and Reggie looked at each other, eyebrows raised. Their friendly rivalry did not include Viscount Kimberley, but neither was in a position to do anything about it. The viscount’s horse was shoulder to shoulder with Sophie’s, and her aunt’s carriage was close by on the other side. Occasionally everyone had to go in single file to accommodate the traffic as they neared the city, but the viscount soon positioned himself beside Sophie again.

The two men were not the only ones dismayed by Sophie’s monopolising of the viscount; Cassie, riding in the open carriage beside her mother, was fuming.

Blissfully unaware of this, Sophie continued to enjoy her banter with Adam. It was light-hearted and fun and when she steered him to talk about himself, he told her how he had come to inherit a vast estate and a mill employing hundreds of workers. ‘I didn’t know anything about spinning and weaving and the men were mocking me, not always behind my back.’

‘I cannot imagine anyone having the temerity to mock you, my lord,’ she murmured.

‘I think sometimes
you
do.’

‘Certainly not. I would not dream of it. You can quell with a look.’

‘That would not work with these men, I assure you. But I have a good manager who has worked at Bamford Mill, man and boy, and I set to work to learn from him about spinning and weaving, using wool from my own sheep. I hadn’t realised what skilful work it is, nor how hard the men have to work, but I stuck at it and gained their respect in the end, not to mention a blanket I am very proud of.’

‘There is a great deal of unrest among the mill workers, is there not, my lord?’

‘Yes. It is why I am in London. I am trying to gain a better deal for them among other mill owners, some of whom have never been inside a mill in their lives, just as there are coal owners who have never been down a mine.’

This was a side of the viscount she had not encountered before and it gave her food for thought. ‘From what I have read it is an uphill struggle.’

‘It is indeed. My own men trust me, but others do not and certainly the mill owners do not. They think my ideas will spark a rebellion. I have to win them over.’

‘Then, I wish you luck.’

‘Thank you. I think I shall need it.’

‘There are those who are sure you are in London to find a wife.’

He laughed. ‘I am not unaware of that.’