Sylvia Andrew – An Unreasonable Match (страница 2)

“I hope the coach is not delayed by the weather. Would you like me to make enquiries?”

Hester pulled herself together and spoke as civilly as she could. “Thank you, but we were early. It wasn’t due before the hour. But please—you mustn’t let us delay you. We are quite safe and comfortable here. The landlord is an old friend.”

“So I have observed. Very well, I shall finish my ale, and then be on my way.”

She was hard put to it to disguise her relief. Though the violent emotions of six years before had long been mastered and then forgotten, she still disliked and distrusted this man. She would be glad to see him go. Unfortunately, at that moment Henrietta scrambled from the window-seat and ran to the door, calling Lowell’s name. Hester sighed. Dungarran would now be bound to stay a short while longer.

“But I think I know your brother already, Miss Perceval,” he said when she had introduced them. He turned to Lowell. “I’ve seen you at White’s with Hugo, but we didn’t have an opportunity to speak. But tell me, are you still up at Cambridge?”

Lowell flushed with pleasure at this evidence that the great man had taken notice of him. “No, I came down some time ago,” he replied. “But I still have friends there. In fact I’ve just been arranging to share rooms with one of them when he comes to London in the spring. At the moment I’m living at Hugo’s lodgings when I’m in town.”

“Why haven’t we met more often?”

“Oh, Hugo’s mode of life is a touch above mine, Lord Dungarran. We each go our own way.”

Dungarran nodded. “All the same, we must meet again in London.”

In spite of her unease, Hester was amused at her brother’s efforts to imitate the elegance of Dungarran’s manner—Lowell was normally loudly self-confident, boisterous even. It was proof, if any were needed, of Dungarran’s status in the closed world of London society. But the next moment she was horrified to hear her brother say somewhat shyly, “Are you staying long in Northampton, sir? I am sure my family would be pleased to receive you at Abbot Quincey.”

She breathed again when she heard Dungarran expressing regret that he had to be on his way. “I merely called in at the Receiving Office here. I had some enquiries to make. Miss Perceval, it was a pleasure to meet you again. Will you be joining your cousin in London for the Season?”

This harmless question roused a storm of protest in Hester’s breast but she replied calmly. “I am not sure, but I doubt it, Lord Dungarran. There’s…there’s always so much to occupy me at Abbot Quincey.” Then, she could not help adding, “I’m sure you will be kind to Robina—she is very young.”

He gave her a sharp look then bowed, took smiling leave of the rest and left. Hester breathed a huge sigh of relief and prepared to gather her party together for the journey home.

Later, after they had deposited the three girls at the Vicarage in Abbot Quincey and were rolling up the drive to Perceval Hall, Lowell said, “He’s a great chap, Hester.”

“Please, Lowell, can we now leave the subject of Dungarran! Ever since we left Northampton the girls have talked of nothing but the polish of his address, the attraction of his looks, the elegance of his clothes, till I was sick of hearing his name. Surely there are more interesting topics of conversation?”

Lowell looked curiously at her. “Come, it wasn’t as bad as all that. I thought they talked quite as much about their shopping, and the dresses they were having made. What’s wrong, Hes?”

Hester could not reply. The unexpected encounter with Dungarran had stirred up feelings she thought she had conquered years before. Anger and humiliation were choking her, six years’ peaceful reconstruction of her pride and confidence were momentarily forgotten. Lowell waited patiently. He and Hester were very close. With just one year between them, they had always been allies, both fond of Hugo, their elder brother, but both somewhat in awe of him. It was natural enough—Hugo was five years older, a born leader, a touch autocratic, rather conscious of his position as the eldest of all the Perceval children, cousins included. When Hugo went off to London, the two younger ones had become even closer. Hester defended Lowell whenever one of his mad escapades had drawn his parents’ wrath down on his head. And when Hester had come back from London in disgrace Lowell had been her chief support.

They were almost at the house before Hester said finally, “I’m sorry, Lowell. Seeing Dungarran again reminded me of London. It’s wrong to allow myself to be so affected after all these years. I apologise.”

“There’s no need for that. But since you mention London…What did you mean when you told him you weren’t going there this year? Has Mama given in?”

“Not yet. But I’m still hoping.”

“I doubt she’ll change her mind. And if she did, Papa would still have to be convinced. They seem set on giving you another Season, Hes.”

“It’s absurd!” said Hester forcefully. “There’s only one reason for taking an unmarried daughter to London for the Season. And since I neither need nor want a husband, the whole exercise will be a waste of money—money the estate can ill afford!”

Lowell put a consoling hand on her arm. “You might manage to persuade them—but if you don’t, things will be different, you’ll see. For a start, I’ll be there!”

“Oh, that will make all the difference! If I had known the great Lowell Perceval was going to be in London this spring, I would never have argued with Mama. Not for a moment.”

“Hester!”

She smiled at him affectionately. “I hope you’ll have better things to do in London, Lowell, my love, than escort a spinster sister to dances she doesn’t wish to attend, or soirées she’d rather die than be seen at! That would be no fun at all, not for you and not for me. No, we can only hope that I am able to change Mama’s mind before April comes.”

Meanwhile Robert Dungarran was on the road to London. The weather remained inclement and it was proving a most unpleasant journey. Jolted and tossed as the chaise slipped on the ice and snow, and progress was reduced to walking pace, he had plenty of time to consider. The trip had altogether proved a disappointment. Hunting in the mist, rain and snow of Leicestershire had been dismal, and the society there even less attractive. His trip to Northampton had been a waste of time—he had learned nothing from the Receiving Office. However, it wasn’t a matter of great importance, he could put it out of his mind. What was more annoying was the meeting with Hester Perceval…How strange that he hadn’t recognised her! When he had first seen her coming round the corner with her cousins she had seemed a different creature altogether. Laughing, animated, capable. It had taken a minute or two to remember what a bore she had been—and the devilishly awkward circumstances of their last meeting…Still, if what she had said about not coming to town for the Season was right, he wouldn’t have to see her again…How did Hugo, the most polished of men, and a damned amusing companion, come to have such a dull stick for a sister? Dungarran settled back more comfortably against the squabs and composed himself for sleep…

But sleep eluded him. Memories of Hester Perceval flitted about his mind like ghosts. She was very young, of course, about seventeen. Straight from school. Hugo hadn’t wanted her to come to London so early, but the parents had insisted. When was it? 1805—the year of Trafalgar? No, Trafalgar had been the year before. It was 1806…

She had been so quiet at first, a watcher, an observer, with no conversation. They had all wondered what the devil her school had been about. Hugo had said proudly that she was a prize pupil, but the girl hadn’t the slightest notion of how to behave in company. She had none of the usual female accomplishments, not even an elementary knowledge of dancing. Out of sympathy for Hugo he had done his best to teach her that, at least. None of the others had volunteered and Hugo had been desperate. Surprisingly enough, it wasn’t all that bad. She could be amusing on occasion, and she picked things up quite quickly. You didn’t have to tell her anything twice…Except when she refused to listen. He shook his head. She’d been a prize pupil, all right! Before long she had revealed herself as a prize, pigheaded, obstinate little know-all. She was finished after that, of course…

He shifted and made himself more comfortable. They would surely reach Dunstable soon, and then there would be only another day of this nightmare journey. He closed his eyes…

But the memories refused to go away…He hadn’t been there when Hugo Perceval’s little sister suddenly turned herself into some sort of crusader, bent on reforming the world. Trouble at Portsmouth had kept him out of the capital for a week or two. But when he got back, poor Lady Perceval was distraught, and Hugo was furious.

To begin with everyone was astonished at her impertinence. He grinned as he recalled Lady Scarsdale’s outrage,

“Do you know, Robert, that…that chit of a girl had the effrontery to ask about the mill in Matlock! I’m sure I haven’t the slightest idea what goes on up there, we only visit Derbyshire once or twice a year, and what Arkwright does with his mill is surely his own business. But this…this snip of seventeen—I don’t know why I call her a snip, for she’s taller than I am—this pole of a girl had the audacity to suggest that I ought to know how he treats his workers! What on earth is Lady Perceval thinking of, letting such a turniphead loose in society?”