Lord Exmouth's Intentions

‘Why is it, Mama,’ he remarked, guiding them into the inn, ‘that two ladies can travel the same distance, in the very same conveyance, and yet one can look none the worse for her ordeal whilst the other resembles nothing so much as a ruffled hen which has spent much of the day ineffectually flapping about a farmyard?’

‘Odious boy! No need to enquire which of us in your opinion needs to set her appearance to rights, I suppose.’ The Dowager tried to appear affronted but failed miserably. ‘Where may this overheated hen refresh herself?’

His lordship beckoned to a serving-maid, and Robina, having somehow managed to keep her countenance, accompanied her ladyship into one of the upstairs chambers to effect the necessary repairs to her own appearance.

It was by no means the first time she had heard Daniel utter some provocative remark. Her ladyship never failed to take her son’s teasing in good part, and Robina couldn’t help but feel a little envious of the special bond which existed between mother and son. She would never have dreamt of saying such things to either of her parents, especially not to her mother, who, unlike the Dowager, did not possess much of a sense of humour.

That was perhaps why she liked her ladyship so much. Lady Exmouth was such an easygoing soul, fun-loving yet in no way light-minded, though she tried, Robina had frequently suspected, to give the impression that she was a trifle featherbrained.

They had got on famously from the first, and Robina did not doubt that she would have derived much pleasure from the Dowager’s delightful company during the forthcoming weeks, had it not been for the fact that that dear lady would be bitterly disappointed if, by the end of their stay in Brighton, her son’s engagement to the Vicar of Abbot Quincey’s daughter had not been announced.

She ought to feel flattered, she supposed, that the Dowager’s son had taken such an interest in her, and maybe she would have been if she thought for a moment that she had succeeded in capturing his heart. But she flatly refused to delude herself. There was little hope of her, or anyone else for that matter, ever taking the place of his late wife.

After removing her bonnet, she took a moment to study her reflection in the glass as she tidied an errant curl. She was well enough, she supposed. At least she had been assured that she was pretty enough to turn heads, but that did not make her a beauty. Yet, there had been beauties enough gracing the Season that year, she reminded herself, her friend Sophia Cleeve to name but one. So wasn’t it rather odd that Lord Exmouth had displayed precious little interest in any one of them if he was indeed the connoisseur of beauty he was reputed to be?

‘Something appears to be troubling you, child?’

Jolted out of her puzzling reflections, Robina discovered that she was the focal point of a deceptively dreamy brown-eyed gaze. ‘Er—no, not really, my lady. I was just thinking of certain persons I had seen during the recent Season in London, and was wondering how many would be following our example by removing to Brighton.’

Robina salved her conscience by telling herself that it was not a complete lie, and fortunately the Dowager seemed to accept the explanation readily enough.

‘A great many, I shouldn’t wonder. Certainly the Carlton House set, one of whom, as you probably know, is none other than my son’s particular friend, Montague Merrell. We’ll ask Daniel who is likely to be paying a visit to the town, should we? No doubt he’ll enlighten us.’

This, however, he seemed unable, or disinclined, to do, when they joined him a few minutes later in a private parlour. He merely shrugged, saying, ‘You know I’m not one of the Regent’s cronies, Mama. And I cannot say that I’m in the least interested in who’ll be trailing after him this summer.’

‘For a young man who has been considered one of the ton’s most fashionable members all his adult life, you display precious little interest in what goes on in polite society,’ his mother remarked, casting an approving glance over the delicious fare awaiting her on the table.

Daniel was not slow to observe the rapacious gleam in those dark eyes, and obliged her by pulling out one of the chairs. As far as he could recall his mother had always been blessed with a healthy appetite. Which was no very bad thing, he didn’t suppose, so long as one did not permit food to become a ruling passion.

He had not been slow to note, either, that Miss Perceval had not opened that immensely kissable mouth of hers since entering the room; had noticed too that she appeared increasingly ill-at-ease in his company these days. A decidedly sorry state of affairs which must be rectified without delay!

‘Permit me to help you to a slice or two of chicken, Miss Perceval.’ He did so without offering her the opportunity to refuse. ‘You must be hungry after spending so many hours in a carriage. Travelling any great distance often makes one feel peckish.’

‘It certainly has that effect on me,’ the Dowager put in.

‘That goes without saying, Mama.’

‘Rude boy!’ she admonished good-humouredly. ‘Your dear papa did not beat you enough when you were a child.’

Daniel noticed that sweet, spontaneous smile, hurriedly suppressed, at the foolish banter, and was fairly sure that it would be no hard matter to restore the delectable Robina to her former composed state. Perhaps it might even be possible to achieve a closer bond between them before the day was out, he decided, swiftly setting himself a new goal.

‘I dare say you are right, Mama. However, permit me to point out that there is a delicious game pie lurking by your right elbow which appears to have escaped your notice.’

‘Thank you, my dear.’ A flicker of a knowing smile hovered around her ladyship’s mouth, clearly betraying to her son that she knew precisely what he was about. It appeared to be having the required effect too, for their guest began to help herself to the various tempting dishes on offer without the least prompting.

‘I must say, my dear boy, you have surpassed yourself. This is a most marvellous repast you have ordered, catering for all tastes.’

‘Nothing whatever to do with me,’ he surprised them both by admitting. ‘If you wish to express your appreciation, then thank Kendall. He was the one who bespoke this late luncheon to be served in a private parlour when he arranged for the stabling of my greys here two days ago.’

‘Have we very much farther to travel, my lord?’ Robina enquired, deciding that it was high time she added something to the conversation.

‘There’s about an hour’s journey ahead of us, certainly no more. My latest acquisitions will accomplish it easily.’

‘You are delighted with your greys, are you not, my son?’

‘Exceedingly, ma’am!’ he concurred, looking extremely pleased with himself. ‘It was very gratifying to pip no less a personage than a duke to the post in purchasing them. I was reliably informed that Sharnbrook was more than a little interested,’ he informed them in response to their enquiring glances, ‘but he delayed too long. Possibly had more important things on his mind, like his engagement to Miss Perceval’s friend, for instance.’

‘Now that rather insignificant affair surprised me,’ her ladyship remarked. ‘I do not understand at all why they held such a small party at Sharnbrook to celebrate the event. After all, the Duke is reputed to be one of the richest men in England. It’s not as if he couldn’t afford a large affair. Your friend’s papa too, Robina, is held to be very plump in the pocket, so I fail to understand why the engagement wasn’t celebrated more lavishly.’

‘It was what Sophia and Benedict both wanted,’ Robina divulged. ‘I know it was only a small party, but it was a most enjoyable occasion none the less.’

‘I’m all in favour of keeping these highly personal celebrations as small and informal as possible,’ his lordship announced, surprising his mother somewhat. ‘I could almost feel guilty now at depriving Sharnbrook of those superb greys. I should imagine we have much in common. Just because one happens to be comfortably circumstanced does not mean that one needs to make a vulgar display of the fact.’

‘You do surprise me, my son. You insisted that half the county be invited to the party celebrating your engagement to Clarissa.’

The Dowager had spoken without thinking, and cursed herself silently for every kind of a fool. She had rarely mentioned her late daughter-in-law’s name when in public, and never in front of the young woman who now sat silently at the table and who appeared totally absorbed in devouring the food on her plate.

‘Very true, Mama,’ his lordship responded, swiftly breaking the ensuing silence, and betraying no visible signs of distress at touching on such a poignant subject. ‘But a person’s taste can change over the years. ‘I would at one time never have considered driving myself above a few miles in an open carriage, but have very much enjoyed the experiences of this day.’

His dark eyes flickered momentarily in Robina’s direction. ‘Perhaps I can persuade you, Miss Perceval, to bear me company for what remains of the journey. You might find travelling in the fresh air a more pleasurable way of completing the journey. Added to which, it will permit her ladyship to close her eyes, as is her custom in the afternoons, without appearing rude.’

Robina hesitated, but only for a moment. There was no earthly way that she was going to be able to avoid his lordship’s company for any appreciable lengths of time during the forthcoming weeks, so she might as well be sensible and accustom herself to his presence at the outset.

‘Yes, my lord, I think a spell in the fresh air would be most welcome.’ She cast him a smile which somehow managed to display both a hint of shyness and a touch of roguery. ‘I might end looking slightly windswept, but at least I hope I shall avoid resembling some demented hen.’

His deep rumble of appreciative laughter succeeded in putting her at her ease to such an extent that when, a short while later, she was seated beside him in the curricle, she was more than content to be in his company, and not in the least nervous over placing her well-being in the hands of a man who had, reputedly through the dangerous tooling of a carriage, succeeded in killing his beloved wife.

It was only, after happily following the comfortable vehicle containing his mother for a mile or so, when his lordship unexpectedly turned off the main post road and on to a much narrower lane, bringing the spirited greys to a halt beneath the shade of some roadside trees, that she began to experience those stabs of blind panic which had plagued her from time to time during recent days.

‘Miss Perceval, I had a particular reason for wishing you to bear me company for the remainder of the journey,’ he announced, staring straight ahead down the deserted road, while with little effort, it seemed, masterfully controlling his spirited horses. ‘If my mother performs her duties as your chaperon conscientiously, there ought not to be too many occasions when we find ourselves quite alone together, and there is something I particularly wished to say to you before we embark on what I hope will be a most enjoyable stay for us both in Brighton.’

If Robina had not felt as if she were being slowly throttled she would quite happily have betrayed her feelings by giving vent to a loud and protracted groan. She had forced herself to come to terms with the fact that sooner or later the subject of a marriage between them would be raised, but she had hoped that the occasion would arise later rather than sooner, thereby permitting her to enjoy a brief period in Brighton without encumbrance. His lordship began speaking again, and she forced herself to listen.

‘We both know why our respective mothers wished us to spend the summer together. They are both hoping that I shall—to resort to the modern-day vulgar parlance—come up to scratch. Well, let me assure you, Miss Perceval, that at this present moment in time I have not the slightest intention of making you an offer of marriage.’

Turning his head, Daniel discovered a look of such utter bewilderment on her sweet face that he was forced to exert every ounce of control he possessed not to take her into his arms and totally confound her by kissing her breathless.

‘You look slightly stunned, Miss Perceval.’ An understatement if ever there was one. The poor girl looked as if she were about to swoon! ‘I’m sorry if my plain speaking has offended you.’

‘Er—no, not at all, sir,’ she responded so softly that he had a little difficulty in catching the words.

‘But I think we would rub along much more comfortably if we cleared up one or two matters at the outset.’ Again he was forced to exert the utmost control, only this time to stop himself from laughing. She was regarding him much as defenceless rabbit might a snake which was about to strike for a second time. ‘I think you must realise, Miss Perceval, that I have grown quite partial to your company during our time in London. I should like to think that we have become…friends.’

‘Er—yes,’ she responded guardedly.

‘And as such, I think we can be honest with each other without causing offence.’

‘It—er—would be nice to think we could, certainly,’ she agreed, in a voice that was growing progressively stronger, though remaining slightly wary at the same time.