Twixt Two Equal Armies (61 page)

He took his cup and briskly walked to a nearby chair.

“So, Dr McKenna, is it?” he asked. “Have you come all the way to Clanough to steal my librarian from me?”

The doctor smiled easily and leaned back in his seat, “Not at all, my lord; Miss Tournier and I have already discussed it and she will work on my sketches as time allows. I still have a great deal to do on my own, and after giving the ladies the opportunity to review my writings, I find I might have a little more than I had thought.”

“Good thing that,” his lordship said amiably and twirled the tea cup in his hand. “I’m afraid my particular workload is rather like an Augean stable.”

“Does that mean I am expected to display Herculean efforts to ever be free of dust and crumbling bindings?” Holly asked, gently smiling.

“Well, at the moment,” Baugham said and gave a wry smile, “it certainly looks like it. Although I should hasten to add that I have no doubt you will perform miracles — eventually.”

“It seems you will be surrounded by the natural cycle of scientific publications, then,” Dr McKenna smiled. “Laborious birth and drabbling with multiple manuscripts in an attempt to add to the advancement of mankind and then witnessing that glorious final product disintegrate at the other end and being made redundant, perhaps only fit for firewood!”

A quick, spontaneous look passed between Baugham and Holly. “In the case of my collection, not even fit for that, I’m afraid,” his lordship said dramatically. “But take heart, Doctor, perhaps your work will be cared for by a librarian with a fondness for hopeless cases even if they are tried by ungrateful times and owners.”

“Or it will end up more famous for its illustrations than its thesis,” Mrs Tournier interjected. As her daughter gave her a look she retorted, “It has been known to happen!”

Baugham laughed and Dr McKenna confessed he had nothing against that notion. “I should be so lucky; a picture says more than a thousand words. And if those were to be the wrong words . . . ” He shrugged.

“At least the pictures will be pretty!” his lordship quipped.

“Pretty!” the ladies cried at the same time and turned their eyes to Dr McKenna.

“Oh, now I suppose all of you will turn to me and demand to know whether my scientist’s sensibilities are offended by having my ‘rocks’ deemed ‘pretty’!” he laughed.

“And I will have to amend my appalling manners by finding a way to profess illustrations of geological specimens to be perfectly impressive and interesting, even though the picture that portrays them is decidedly pretty,” Lord Baugham smiled. “I think I must admit defeat and practice my apology instead.”

“I should hope so,” Holly said with a smile, keeping her eyes on the doctor. “While I will aspire to be accurate and true, and although some of the doctor’s specimens are very lovely indeed — there are certain samples here that can in no way be rendered both accurate and
pretty
.”

Her eyes shifted quickly to Lord Baugham, “I expect to find the work both fascinating and challenging.”

“I hope,” McKenna laughed, before his lordship could comment, “that I will be able to engender in you at least
some
interest in my field, Miss Tournier, as we work. I will give you this much instruction now: one should not presume so much based upon first appearances.”

With that he rose and pulled a few stones out of his case.

“Now, do you see this unassuming bit of sandstone?”

A curious audience gathered round him and all let out gasps of surprise when he turned it over to reveal the imprint of a strange looking creature imbedded within the stone. Then he showed them what looked to be an ordinary, roundish, grey rock. With Mrs Tournier’s permission and a few tools he deftly broke it open on her desk, revealing a glittering treasury of smoky violet and white crystals.

Holly could not help but reach out for it and he smilingly handed it to her. “Oh, Dr McKenna, it’s beautiful.”

Baugham leaned towards her, curious as well, and together they studied the rock in Holly’s hand like small children, their heads almost touching as Holly tipped it so that the light from the fire reflected in the shimmering middle.

“Amethyst?” asked Baugham as he studied it.

“Yes,” Dr McKenna smiled. “And quartz. I found it in the Tayside region, just outside of Monifieth. They are not plentiful, so it takes a bit of searching to find them, but they are worth the effort to seek out, are they not Miss Tournier?”

Holly looked up, transfixed by the dancing light in her hands.

“It is one of the most marvellous things I have ever seen!” she said beaming at McKenna. “Hidden away like that!”

Dr McKenna returned her warm smile and gave Mrs Tournier a look. “Quite a pretty rock, wouldn’t you say?”

“Oh,” Holly gasped and returned to admire the small miracle in her hand. “After seeing this I should be very happy and proud, indeed, if I could produce something that could show just how pretty — nay! — how beautiful your rocks are . . . ”

She reluctantly held the rock out to the doctor, but he insisted that she keep it. He looked at her closely, “It is a good lesson, is it not?”

Baugham watched her nod in agreement, a smile slowly growing on her face and somehow felt that there was something being shared that did not include him. He turned to Mrs Tournier for support, but she was watching the scene before her with interest.

Chapter 27

Things Finally are Resolved in his Lordship’s mind as the Evidence Mounts

Baugham stirred his coffee cup and reflected he had no idea whether he had added one or two spoons of sugar and that in all probability that meant he had added at least three and would be forced to discard the drink and begin all over again when he finally got around to tasting it. He sighed heavily. Lord, this preoccupation was annoying! He was preoccupied with thoughts of Darcy and the increasing urgency of needing to arrange for his departure, but also the obvious happiness evident in his letter that not even his friend’s natural reserve could hide. It was a happy event that would bring Baugham into Hertfordshire to see for himself how such a long struggle would end in perfect happiness in a little village church in a town of no consequence called Meryton. He sighed again and pushed the cup around. What was this restlessness in the face of that prospect?

The house was quiet. Well, the house was always quiet — that was the way he liked it and although Darcy’s visit surely had not brought any discernable or even unwelcome change to that fact, it seemed as if the silence was what was now annoying him. Yesterday had also been quiet, but Miss Tournier had been working away in the library and they had exchanged careful comments on the prospect of the happy event between her cousin and his friend. He had detected a sadness in her and thought that perhaps she was missing her cousin or feeling wistful at the romance that had been played out before them so honestly. Maybe she was worried she would not see as much of the future Mrs Darcy now that she would be married, but then surely a trip into Derbyshire would be easier than a journey to and from Hertfordshire? Well, he had confessed his envy at their apparent happiness and she had looked at him without comment, which had made him very uncomfortable and he had left soon after.

He looked down at the drink in front of him and decided to be brave. Just as he thought, he had to put it down again hastily, but to his surprise he found that he had not added any of the sugar he thought he had and that it was still salvageable. Carefully counting the spoons he added the sugar and then got up to look out of the window. Quiet, quiet, quiet. Even nature was subdued and dull — and upon this thought his thoughts turned automatically to the one place he knew was never dull. He would pay a visit to Rosefarm. Here was an excellent time to fulfil Darcy’s long delayed commission and assure that Mrs Tournier intended to take advantage of the arrangements made for her and her daughter to travel to the weddings. A perfect excuse for a visit, if there ever was one. The prospect arrested him when he put down his cup and quite unexpectedly he smiled broadly. “I am such a simpleton,” he said. “I should just stop.”

Once arrived at that entertaining location, he found Mrs Tournier sitting in her usual seat enjoying the blissful solitude and quiet dignity that came from spending an afternoon undisturbed by servants, scientists or young people in general. Not for long though, and she had given a wry smile when the gravel path outside her window betrayed the grating sound of determined male footsteps. She therefore displayed no surprise when his lordship slipped in through the door and greeted her with his brilliant smile. Mrs Tournier noted dryly that, unlike some of her youthful visitors, at least he had the excellent manners not to let a shadow of disappointment wash over his face when he found her alone in her parlour.

“Well, so you are the one daring to interrupt my solitary enjoyment of a quiet read, my lord? I’m afraid you have caught me feeling very smug with myself, having sent my daughter out for an extensive walk. Will you not sit down?”

His lordship happily proclaimed Mrs Tournier’s company to be no sacrifice and he settled down after telling her he was pleased to see her again. He let his eye wander around the small but comfortable room and noticed a slight change in the arrangement of the furniture in the corner. There was a second chair pulled up very close to the old, wobbly table where Miss Tournier was accustomed to work, and a shipping crate sitting close by.

“Yes,” his hostess told him, “it’s just arrived this afternoon. Courtesy of my daughter’s newest employer, I presume. Can I interest you in some tea, Lord Baugham?”

He confessed she could and gave the table and the rest of the arrangement another glance before he concentrated wholly on his hostess again.

H
OLLY WAS HAPPY THAT SHE
had agreed to accompany Dr McKenna on his outing that morning rather than spend another day indoors in the library. They had walked over miles of woodland, wilderness and creek bed, the doctor collecting specimens and pointing out to her how they appeared in their natural state.

He was a pleasant companion, his knowledge extensive and interesting, his enthusiasm contagious, and soon Holly was picking out intriguing specimens on her own to ask and learn about. So even though the day was cold and the wind colder, she had enjoyed herself very much. She was especially glad to have a partner in conversation with whom she could be completely relaxed — Dr McKenna was comfortable and easy to talk to, with none of the misunderstandings or awkwardness that had lately plagued her interactions.

The two of them stepped through the door upon their return to Rosefarm and burst into laughter as they each got a good look at the other’s appearance. With the doctor’s hat and Holly’s bonnet commandeered for the transportation of the numerous mineral samples they had collected, their morning outdoors had left them looking decidedly windblown.

“Miss Tournier,” the doctor said in an amused voice, “I must say that you look . . . exhilarated!”

She could feel her cheeks and nose tingling in the warmth of the room as she entered the parlour and unceremoniously dumped the contents of her bonnet into a pile on a table.

“Exhausted is more to the point!” She reached out for the doctor’s hat. “Maman, you would not believe how far the doctor led me today in his quest for ro — ” Holly turned to her mother as she spoke and stopped cold. Sitting next to Mrs Tournier, completely unexpectedly, was Lord Baugham!

She had lately been able to face him with some measure of composure because, knowing when and where she would meet with him, she could adequately prepare herself beforehand and keep her features and emotions under control. But to see him so unexpectedly like this — she felt a familiar stab of pain and confusion shoot through her before she hastily turned away. She could not be sure what, if anything, her face might have betrayed or whether anyone had noticed her bewilderment. After a moment to regain her poise, she turned back again.

“Lord Baugham, this is a surprise.”

A
PAUSE IN CONVERSATION HAD
naturally occurred in the parlour at the sound of the door, but when Lord Baugham took in the scene in front of him, he had to force himself not to betray a reaction. The first thing that struck him was that she looked very happy. And on reflection, so did Dr McKenna.
She makes him happy,
was his spontaneous conclusion, and he, her. The implications of that conclusion rushed around in his brain, and he quickly decided the tangle of thoughts they entailed was best unravelled later. Seldom had he been less inclined to speak, but speak he must and soon. He stood up and concentrated on displaying a friendly front.

“Dr McKenna. Miss Tournier. A surprise, you think? Oh, I don’t know. Since the very man who seduced me into a whirling social discourse with your family has so cruelly left me, I cannot seem to go back to my hermitical ways again. So your mother was very kind to ask me to stay for tea.”

“As compensation for yet another batch of newspapers,” Mrs Tournier said dryly. “Which is a mixed blessing, for how am I ever going to get down to reading them when there are travel plans to make and an endless stream of young men walking through my door?”

Dr McKenna poured himself a cup of tea and took his accustomed chair next to the drawing table with an air of comfortable familiarity, then looked from one face to another within the small parlour. He could not be sure if Baugham had noticed Miss Tournier’s sudden discomposure, but
he
certainly had — as had her mother. He speculated as to its probable cause and found he was not happy with the direction his observations took him.