Page 38 of To Catch a Husband
‘No, but …’ He watched as she disengaged the hook and held it before him, looking him in the eye.
‘We are not such weak vessels in physical form or in mental stamina that we must swoon at the slightest hurt, Sir Rowland. I do not say that should I receive such an injury as Sir Harry Penwood has seen upon the field of battle that I would be as sanguine, but for such an injury as this, the body must be commanded not to give in to an excess of sensibility. Besides, it is my sex which goes through the physical ordeal of bringing forth children, and I have yet to hear of a woman who spent her entire time of travail being brought round from continual swooning. We are a little stronger than you might think, than some men may even wish to imagine us.’
‘I had never considered that, and will grant your example, of course, but why do you say than some men “may wish”?’
‘Because it is not uncommon for gentlemen to wish to treat a woman as some precious, delicate object, and also one inferior in capacity of mind as in courage. There are some females who are weak of will, but then so are there gentlemen. I would hate to be treated like a piece of porcelain.’ She spoke with some vehemence.213
‘I do not think you need fear such an eventuality, for I doubt very much that any man who wanted a “porcelain wife” would see your qualities, Miss Lound.’ It was more than he had intended to say, but in that moment less than he felt. She was still looking at him and frowned, not so much in disapproval as confusion, as though the concept that she possessed ‘qualities’ of any sort that might please a man was alien to her. For a few moments she neither spoke nor moved, and then she stood up, and he scrambled to his feet, brushing off his knees. She went to her rod bag and opened it, and put her own rod together in silence.
‘Have I given some offence?’ he asked, quietly, and received no answer other than a small shake of the head. Only when rod and line were ready did she say anything.
‘I think, Sir Rowland, that if you keep control of your line, we might now proceed to trying to aim the cast to a particular area, since the angler must “read” the surface of the water, the shadows and the weed, and decide where best to hunt for the lurking fishes.’ It was as if the interchange had not taken place at all.
‘What indications should one consider?’
‘Well, fishes do not like to feel exposed to predators, so somewhere in a little shadow and where there is some cover under the surface is good. One must also watch for any telltale bubble or ripple where a fish surfaces. What you must not do is cast your own shadow over the water, since the fishes will comprehend that as a threat. It would be different in a river with proper currents and rocks and214fallen boughs to give slack water and places to hide, but when the lake was created the bottom was not made totally flat, but with some humps in the middle that mean the flow, however slow, moves around them a little. Come the evening rise, the fish are often on one side or other but now they will most likely be nearer the banks, and this one is more shady. So you want to look about six to eight feet out and cast that distance or a little more. When the trout are not rising you must let your fly sink gently into the water, not try to tease the fishes by letting it land on the surface, for they will not come up. Let it sink a little over where they are lying. Fly fishing is in many ways the art of deception. When they rise, it is then we let the fly land just upon the surface.’ She had been looking over the water but at this point turned to him, and smiled, and he watched what was very natural morph into something playfully flirtatious, yet without conviction. He did not want to betray his interest in her, so he simply could not tell her that she had no need of artifice, or indeed deception, with him. ‘Shall we see if any fishes rise for us?’
The inclusive ‘us’ gave him a warm feeling, and he could have happily stood next to her and surveyed the surface without it breaking into the smallest ripple until the dinner hour without feeling bored. A fish was so disobliging as to make a very obvious appearance within three or four minutes, however, and it was impossible to deny having seen it.
He made a cast, but it fell short, and he took a step nearer the water’s edge.215
‘No, no. If you do that you will soon be in view from under the water.’ Miss Lound laid a restraining hand upon his arm.
‘Yes, I am sorry. It was instinctive.’
‘Curb the instinct and think.’
It was sound advice, and not just about the fish. His instinct when in her company was that marriage was no longer a vague prospect upon the horizon, but something he actively wanted, and soon, but it would be all too easy to take an irreversible step based upon a feeling, a frisson, an urge. He had not known her long enough to be sure, he told himself, either of the permanence of his feelings or whether she looked upon him as more than the route to security. He felt it, but again, it was simply a feeling.
‘You are, of course, right, Miss Lound. I should let out more line instead.’
He cast again, a better length, but the fly was still not landing lightly.
‘Do not worry about that as much, sir, for it comes with practice, a feeling as you cast. Once you achieve the fly “kissing” the surface, then you will learn to make it do so nearly every cast. I promise you, even experienced anglers sometimes have a fly that “crashes”.’
‘Do you ever fish for other than trout?’
‘I sometimes used to go with James and Harry Penwood, and fish the river, for trout in season and the graylings a little later, for they too take artificial fly readily enough, but I have never enjoyed using live216bait, both because it is messy and a little gruesome, and because standing with a rod, holding it and waiting for a passing fish has less of the hunt to it, for me. James caught a salmon in the river once, a very grand fish that was, and he was fêted for it for a whole week. My, what a fight he had with it, and several times I thought his rod would break with the strain.’ She sighed at the memory.
‘So if I now need to repeat my casts, over and over, will you fish with me?’ Sir Rowland looked at her, his mouth not smiling, but his eyes doing so. ‘If I lapse into error, you may still correct me.’
‘I shall, sir, with pleasure.’
She picked up her rod, selected another likely spot lest their lines should become entwined, and for an hour they fished in an amicable silence, punctuated only by a clamour of rooks wheeling above the beech hanger that covered the base of the scarp nearest to the house, and an occasional recommendation from Miss Lound to seek a different patch of water. She caught a fish, but nothing took Sir Rowland’s fly. Eventually, he took out his pocket watch and reluctantly admitted the hour was now twenty minutes after five.
‘Then I think I must pack away my rod and return to the dower house, for I cannot sit and dine in this gown, Sir Rowland. It has been a very pleasant afternoon.’ She paused. ‘I think you do not really need lessons now, merely you should try and fish as frequently as possible to get the feel of what is right, and of course to catch a fish.’217
‘Ah, but should a fish bite, ma’am, it would be beneficial to be advised how best to bring it in to the net, for having watched you, it is not a simple matter of “pull fish from water”.’
‘You have observed and learnt from that.’
‘But I think, perhaps, that fishing in the company of an experienced angler would be beneficial, at least until the end of the season, which is barely a fortnight away, and come the spring I may have forgotten the finer points. Besides, Miss Lound, fishing quietly with a companion is most enjoyable.’
‘I have not fished other than alone since my brother James left England. I had forgotten “companionship”, though I have never felt lonely here.’
‘Then may I request, if not a lesson, then the pleasure of your company for an hour or so of fishing in the next day or so, if conditions are good? I will leave that decision up to you, and you could send a note over, or just come to the house, for I am not so often out in the afternoon. I would not take long to attire myself suitably.’
‘You want me to pound upon your door and demand that you come out to “play”?’ She raised her eyebrows, and her eyes danced, but she forgot to add the layer of ‘coquettishness’, which meant it had far greater impact than mere flirtation. It flooded his mind with the thought of ‘playing’ chase with her as children might play, but when he caught her … He swallowed hard before replying.218
