Working Man, Society Bride. Mary Nichols

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ has got into you, Lucy? I haven’t done anything wrong. Talking about the man is not a sin. I am not about to fall into his arms and run away with him.’

      ‘Now you are being silly.’

      ‘Yes, of course I am. I would never jeopardise my future in that foolish way. I mean to make a good marriage, and that means at least eighty thousand a year, a house in town, a country estate and a hunting lodge in good hunting country. That doesn’t mean I can’t admire specimens like that navvy. If he really was a navvy. I have my doubts about that.’

      Lucy was beginning to wonder about that herself, but decided not to encourage her sister by admitting it. ‘You have high aspirations, Rosie.’

      ‘Why not? I want my husband to be at least Mr Gorridge’s equal. Maybe there will be someone among the guests coming this afternoon who will fit the bill.’

      ‘You are still only seventeen. There is plenty of time to enjoy being single first.’

      ‘And I mean to, don’t worry.’ They had arrived at the shore of the lake and stood looking across the water. It was so wide they could barely see the bank on the other side. It was edged by reeds and bulrushes and a flock of water birds bobbed up and down, too far away to identify accurately. ‘It’s big,’ she murmured. ‘I wonder how far the Viscount’s land stretches.’

      ‘I don’t know.’

      ‘Just think, you will be mistress of it.’

      ‘Only if I marry Mr Gorridge, and then only on the demise of the Viscount.’

      ‘Well, you are going to marry him, aren’t you?’

      ‘I don’t know. He hasn’t asked me yet and perhaps he won’t.’

      ‘Of course he will. That’s what this stay is all about, isn’t it? For you and he to come to an understanding.’

      ‘But I am not sure I do understand. I do not know why Papa and Mama are so keen on him. If a man can leave his house guests to go and get drunk…’

      ‘Oh, you are not going to hold that against him, surely? All men get drunk sometimes. Why, I have known Papa to get a little tipsy on occasion and Mama thinks nothing of it. Perhaps he was a little nervous of the future. It must take courage to propose, especially if the poor man has no encouragement from his intended.’

      Lucy laughed. ‘You are probably right. Let us turn back. It must be nearly time for luncheon.’

      They turned and made their way back to the house, which was just as imposing from the side as it was from the front. It was perfect; there wasn’t a window that did not gleam, not a step that did not dazzle with its whiteness, not a blade of grass out of place nor a weed in the flower beds. It needed an army to keep it like that.

      When they arrived they discovered more guests had arrived and luncheon would be taken in the large dining room at the front of the house. Lucy and Rosie went up to their rooms to tidy themselves.

      

      The atmosphere of an intimate family gathering disappeared during lunch. The company consisted of Sir Edwin Benwistle and his wife and daughter, Ursula, distant relatives of Lady Gorridge; Mr and Mrs Ashbury, Victor’s parents, who evidently knew nothing of the previous evening’s escapade, for Mrs Ashbury continually commented on the fact that her son did not look ‘quite the thing,’ to which he replied irritably that he was perfectly well. Others of the party were friends of Viscount Gorridge who were there for the fishing and shooting and who had brought wives and daughters, so that the party numbered twenty.

      ‘The lake is well stocked,’ his lordship told them as they enjoyed a sumptuous luncheon. ‘I propose a little competition to see who can bag the greatest weight. A magnum of champagne for the winner.’

      ‘Supposing the winner is a lady,’ Rosemary asked.

      ‘A lady?’ he queried in surprise.

      ‘Why not, my lord? I shouldn’t think the fish are particular whose bait they take.’

      ‘Well, I suppose a lady could take part.’ He beamed at her in a condescending manner. ‘A separate prize for the winning lady, then. A new bonnet, eh, what?’

      ‘Silly idea,’ Edward murmured to Lucy, who was seated beside him.

      ‘What, that a lady can fish or that she should win a new hat?’

      ‘Neither—the idea of fishing as a pastime.’ He was feeling decidedly under the weather, but to have absented himself from luncheon would have been unforgivable in his father’s eyes and he was already in trouble as it was, having to beg the price of a barrel of ale because a gambling debt was a debt of honour and he had spent his monthly allowance. But he’d be blowed if he’d let that navvy have the last laugh. He didn’t remember being brought home, but Victor had furnished the details and said his mother had put it about that he had been taken ill and Mr Masters had asked the navvy to drive him home in the gig. But, damn it, the fellow did not have to carry him into the house.

      ‘You do not care for it?’

      ‘No, I would rather go for a ride. What about it, my lady, shall you leave them to their fishing and allow me to show you the countryside on horseback?’

      ‘If Mama agrees, I would like that.’

      ‘Lady Luffenham, will you allow me to take Lady Lucinda for a ride this afternoon?’ he asked.

      Lady Luffenham looked at her husband, who gave a small nod. ‘Very well, but take someone with you.’

      ‘Victor will come, won’t you, Cousin?’

      ‘I meant a lady,’ the Countess put in quickly. ‘For appearance’s sake. Perhaps Rosemary.’

      ‘Oh, Mama,’ she protested. ‘I want to go fishing.’

      ‘Then you have been nominated, Dotty,’ Edward told his sister before Lady Luffenham could insist. ‘We shall be four. That should satisfy the proprieties.’

      

      As soon as the meal was finished, everyone dispersed. The fishermen and women went to select their rods and bait and to be shown their stations round the lake, others who preferred to stroll set off down the drive and the elderly went up to their rooms to take an afternoon nap. The four riders went to the stables, where Edward made a great fuss about choosing a mount for Lucy.

      ‘Cinder is a good lady’s mount,’ he said, pointing to a horse with a mottled grey coat. ‘Will he do?’

      ‘Yes, thank you,’ she said, realising that calling him a lady’s mount probably meant he was docile to the point of sluggishness. She was a good rider and would have preferred an animal with a little spirit, but decided not to make an issue of it.

      Dorothea had her own horse, which was only slightly more lively, and the two men had big bays. Once they were all saddled and mounted, the four riders set off at a gentle trot across the park. ‘We’ll go up on to Gorrymoor,’ Edward said. ‘It has some spectacular views.’

      He led the way, skirting the village and trotting through the СКАЧАТЬ