The Regency Season Collection: Part Two. Кэрол Мортимер

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СКАЧАТЬ a spineless fool, ready to whistle his magnificent heritage down the wind on a whim. Under the expensive clothes and effortless elegance was a dangerous man, and last night proved how seductively the real Marquis of Mantaigne called to a wildness in Miss Paulina Trethayne she’d thought long gone. It would be as well if she avoided him as often as she could when this morning’s ride about the estate was over.

      ‘Prinny would take your land and fortune and give your title to one of his cronies,’ Mr Peters mused. ‘I’d have to tell the Winterleys how you met your end, though, so I’d really rather you didn’t perish at sea during my time here.’

      ‘Should your brothers need a schoolmaster I can recommend Peters as perfect for the role, when he’s not too busy lecturing a fool of eight and twenty who’s been going his own way far too long to listen.’

      ‘About eight and twenty years of his life, by my reckoning,’ Mr Peters murmured into his porridge, and Polly chuckled, then squirmed self-consciously under Lord Mantaigne’s impassive scrutiny. She only just resisted the urge to put out her tongue and set the worst sort of example to her brothers.

      ‘Thank you, but the vicar teaches Tobias, Henry and Jago. Josh and the younger boys have lessons with some of us here and I suspect Mr Peters has far too much to do already to join in with that thankless task,’ she said to fill the silence.

      ‘D’you think Mr Barker will tell us how he lost his leg today, Poll? He told Toby and I’ll soon be as old as he is.’

      ‘You’re five years younger than your eldest brother, Joshua Trethayne, and some things have to wait until I say so,’ Polly intervened before Toby and Henry could. ‘And don’t argue,’ she added firmly.

      ‘Why not? You’re only a girl,’ Josh muttered darkly.

      ‘No, she’s not, you ungrateful little toad,’ Toby told him.

      ‘No, for Miss Trethayne is your sister and for some odd reason she seems to like you,’ Mr Peters said solemnly, and Josh grinned delightedly at the implication it took a doting gaze to see past his worst traits. Polly wondered why she couldn’t be attracted to the man instead of his employer.

      Oh, no, that was it, wasn’t it? She was conscious of Lord Mantaigne on too many levels. Why did she have to feel a warm shiver of perhaps run over her skin at the very idea of being alone with a nobleman’s secretary instead of the nobleman himself? Because she was a Trethayne, she supposed fatalistically, and they never did anything by halves. Falling headlong for the most unattainable man she’d ever come across would be a disaster bigger than any that had befallen her so far. There must be no more midnight adventures with him then and, after today, no daytime ones either.

      ‘Still here, boys?’ Lady Wakebourne asked from the doorway. ‘Jago and Joe and Ben have already got their boots on.’

      ‘And I expect Mr Partridge is waiting,’ Polly prompted.

      Some of the squatters had found work in the village of Little Spring, but Partridge had insisted on walking there and back with the boys ever since lights were first seen in the cove below Dayspring. Toby and Henry bolted the last of their breakfast and ran off to join their friends at a nod from Polly, and Josh dashed after them. Wishing she could do the same, she made herself eat in a suitably ladylike manner despite the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Better to walk in Lady Wakebourne’s shoes this morning, but the lady was so determined not to trade on her title that Polly was careful not to impinge on her self-imposed tasks.

      ‘Shall we meet in the stable yard in half an hour for our tour of the estate, Miss Trethayne?’ Lord Mantaigne asked.

      ‘I’m ready now,’ she said, because it seemed better to get it over with.

      ‘Which of the spoilt beasts in your stable would you like saddled, then?’

      ‘I always ride the black cob, but he won’t let a stranger near him.’

      ‘He must be a hard ride, and I dare say he’s headstrong as the devil,’ he remarked, trying not to call Beelzebub an unsuitable ride for a lady.

      ‘He refuses to plough and I couldn’t endure the thought of him being abused as a carriage horse.’

      ‘Not to a coaching company or the mails, but I know a man who would treat him well and give you a good price. Can he be handled by anyone else?’

      ‘Once he trusts you he’s more amenable, but I found him wandering on the heath and he’d been beaten, so I could never let him go to someone who would try to break his spirit,’ she said carefully, wondering if she could refuse a reasonable offer for her favourite when she would soon be homeless.

      ‘I wouldn’t suggest he might find a home with my friend if I doubted his ability to tell a rogue from a spirited beast with his worst masculine traits intact.’

      ‘There’s a lady present, Mantaigne,’ Mr Peters protested, and Polly set him a little lower in her estimation and his master a little higher.

      ‘Miss Trethayne doesn’t want to discuss the latest fashions or how many fools crowded into Prinny’s last squeeze at Carlton House, Peters.’

      ‘I might,’ Polly heard herself say as if someone else had taken over her tongue.

      ‘I beg your pardon, ma’am. Then I must rack my brains for the details as best I can at this hour of the day.’

      ‘You must know I have no knowledge of either subject,’ she said gruffly. ‘I would look ridiculous in London fashions and feel like a fish out of water at Carlton House, but a cat can still look at a king.’

      ‘I know what you mean,’ Mr Peters said with a wry look that won back some of Polly’s respect and seemed to sink him in his employer’s. ‘I often wonder if Prinny wouldn’t be happier if he’d been born on a fairground instead of in a royal bed.’

      ‘It must make a fine spectacle, but I would hate to take part.’

      ‘It’s hot as Hades and noisier than a parliament of crows. I’d certainly give a good deal not to sit through another of Prinny’s never-ending banquets,’ the marquis said with what looked like genuine revulsion for all that show and waste Polly had read about in the discarded newspapers that sometimes came her way at third-or fourth-hand from the local squire.

      ‘If your entrée to such places was withdrawn, I dare say you would feel the snub all the same,’ Mr Peters said quietly.

      ‘I expect you’re right, but if we’re all finished we might as well adjourn to the stable yard before the morning has gone, if you agree, Miss Trethayne? I hope you will ride one of my horses today. Although he will be nowhere near as fast or fiery as your own mount, you would be doing us a favour. A full stallion will never tolerate the presence of our hacks without a lot of fire and brimstone.’

      He was right of course; Polly had been hoping Beelzebub’s antics at the proximity of other males, even if they were geldings, would put a premature end to the tour. She resigned herself to hours in the disturbing man’s company as both gentlemen stood back for her to lead the way, then carefully didn’t look at anything less than six feet off the ground lest they be accused of ogling.

      Dotty Hunslow was sitting on the granary steps, smoking a short pipe and exchanging flirtatious glances with a wizened little man who looked like a former jockey. He jumped to his feet and СКАЧАТЬ