Название: Francesca
Автор: Sylvia Andrew
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Историческая литература
Серия: Mills & Boon Historical
isbn: 9781408933756
isbn:
‘My concern is neither for Lady Forrest nor for the state of your carriage! I can perfectly well walk home—indeed, I insist on doing so. To be frank, sir, I would not go with you in your carriage to Shelwood, nor to Witham, nor anywhere else, not even to the end of the lane! I am surprised you should suggest it. Have you forgotten the circumstances of our previous acquaintance?’
‘Why, yes, of course!’
Francesca, the wind taken somewhat out of her sails, stared at him.
‘I thought that would please you. You said you wished me to forget the lot,’ he said earnestly.
Francesca pressed her lips together firmly. He would not make her laugh, she would not let him—that was how it had all started last time. She said coldly, ‘I suggest you rejoin your friends—they will not wish to miss any of the…pleasures Witham Court has to offer.’
‘Of course—you know about those, don’t you?’ he asked with a mocking smile.
‘Only by hearsay, sir. And a brief and unwelcome acquaintance with one of its visiting rakes some years ago.’
‘You didn’t seem to find the acquaintance so unwelcome then, my dear.’
Francesca’s face flamed again. She said curtly, ‘I was very young and very foolish. I knew no better.’ She started to walk along the road. ‘I suggest you turn the carriage in the large drive about a hundred yards ahead and go back to the village. The road you should have taken is the first on the left. This one does lead to Witham Court, but it is narrow and uneven and would need expert driving.’
‘You don’t think I can do it?’ he asked, falling into step beside her.
‘Nothing I have seen so far would lead me to think so. Good day, sir.’
‘Very well. I shall take your advice—my horses have suffered enough today, and this road surface is appalling.’ He took a step, halted and turned to her. ‘You are sure there’s nothing I can do for you?’
‘I think you’ve done enough! Now, for heaven’s sake, leave me in peace!’
The gentleman looked astonished at the violence in Francesca’s voice. And in truth she had surprised herself. Such outbursts were rare. The child’s impulsively passionate nature had over the years been subdued under her aunt’s repressive influence. Nowadays, she exercised a great deal of self-discipline, and Miss Fanny’s air of calm dignity, of lack of emotion—a defence against the constant slights she was subjected to at the Manor—was no longer totally assumed.
But this man had a talent, it seemed, for reaching that other Francesca of long ago. She must regain control of her emotions—she must! The little interlude years before had meant very little to him, that was obvious, or he would not now be able to refer to it in such a light-hearted manner. She must not let him even suspect the profound effect it had had on her. She would apologise for her outburst in a civilised manner, then bid him farewell.
But he forestalled her. The teasing look had quite vanished from his eyes as he said, ‘Forgive me. I did not mean to offend you.’
Then, without another word, he turned on his heel and strode back to the chaise. Francesca found herself hoping he would trip on one of the stones that had been washed loose by the previous night’s storm. She would enjoy seeing that confident dignity measure its length in the dust. But, of course, it didn’t happen. Instead, he got into the chaise and exchanged some words with the young man who had remained with the horses.
There was a slight altercation which ended when the young man—his nephew, she supposed—got down and strode on up the lane. A few minutes later, the chaise passed on its way back to the village, the driver giving her exaggerated clearance and an ironical salute of the whip as he went.
Chapter Two
Lady Forrest saw the incident and felt a little spurt of irritation. Marcus was impossible—acknowledging a wretch like the girl on the road! Of course, he was just doing it to annoy her. He hadn’t wanted to come to Charlie Witham’s—it was not the sort of gathering he enjoyed and all her wiles had at first failed to persuade him to accept the invitation. But she had won in the end! And now he was showing his displeasure by teasing her.
‘Are you so very displeased, Marcus?’ she asked, looking at him sideways as the carriage turned into the village street.
He negotiated the tight left turn before replying. ‘About Nick’s driving? Not any more. Nor do you need to suffer any disquiet about him, either. By the time he’s found his way to the Court, he’ll have got over his fit of temper.’
Lady Forrest had forgotten Nick. ‘That’s not what I meant. You didn’t want to come to Charlie’s, when I first mentioned it. Are you regretting having changed your mind?’
‘Not at all. You produced a master card and played it.’ When she raised her eyebrows, and feigned surprise, he went on, ‘Come, Charmian. You don’t usually underestimate my intelligence so badly. You are quite ruthless in pursuing your wishes. When it became obvious I had no intention of escorting you to Witham Court, you beguiled Nick into performing the office. You counted on the fact that, although my nephew’s capacity for getting into trouble seems to be infinite, I am fond of him. You knew that I was most unlikely to abandon him to the mercies of Charlie Witham’s rapacious cronies.’
He looked at her with the quizzical smile she always found irresistible. ‘But tell me, what would you have done if I had called your bluff? It would hardly have enhanced your reputation to arrive at Witham Court in the company of a lad half your age.’
The smile, then the rapier. He could be a cruel devil when he chose! Lady Forrest coloured angrily. ‘You exaggerate, Marcus. In any case, the question did not arise. You have come—as I knew you would.’ She changed her tone. ‘Now, be kind. You have had your fun pretending to be concerned over that creature on the road, and attempting to introduce her—’
‘You were quite ruthless there, too. Did you have to give the girl such a snub?’
‘Why are you so concerned? If she were pretty I could understand it, but she is quite remarkably plain!’
‘Plain? How can you say so?’
‘Stop making fun of me, Marcus. Of course she is plain. Too tall, too bony, too sallow, a hard mouth—Really!’
‘Her mouth is not hard, it is disciplined. And I suppose the streaks of dirt on her face disguised from you the loveliest line of cheekbone and jaw I think I have ever seen.’ When Lady Forrest regarded him with astonishment, he added, ‘Oh, she is not your conventional Society beauty, I agree. She lacks the rosebud mouth, the empty blue eyes, the dimpled cheeks. Her conversation is less vapid, too. But plain she will never be—not even when she is old. The exquisite bone structure will still be there.’
‘Good Lord! This is news, indeed! What a sly fellow you are after all, my dear! When are we to congratulate you?’ He gave her an ironic look, but refused to rise to her bait. She went on, ‘Perhaps you will allow me to lend the girl a dress for the wedding? I can hardly think she owns anything suitable—nor, from the look of her, any dowry, either. Still, you hardly need that, now.’
There was a short silence and she wondered whether she had gone too far. Then СКАЧАТЬ