Page 27 of To Catch a Husband
‘What an unappealing term “spinster” is, to be sure. “Bachelor” has no such connotations. I doubt, very much indeed, if Miss Lound regards this as any more than keeping in favour with the man who owns the lake she wishes to fish in perpetuity.’148
‘You sound as though that is a matter of regret,’ Tom noted.
‘Perhaps. I do not know the young lady well enough to be sure, as yet.’
‘But an hour or so by the lake would help matters, yes?’
‘An hour or so, without the addition of your presence, very definitely.’
‘Do not be cast down. You said yourself she has taken Lord Cradley in aversion, and since she is hardly in her first flush of youth, we may surmise that she has not been courted by the long-term residents.’
‘Stripling! “Not in the first flush of youth” indeed! I doubt she is more than three or four and twenty, and if she is unwed, it is more likely that the local gentlemen have not met her requirements. As for Cradley, well, I agree with her. I would not trust the man an inch.’
Sir Rowland had ridden over to Brook House the previous afternoon to leave his card, and without any preconception of the owner other than he was not a man Miss Lound liked. However, when informed that his lordship was at home and would be delighted to receive him, he was able to make his own judgement. Upon being announced, and entering the library where Lord Cradley was lounging in a winged armchair by the fire, and with a glass of wine in his left hand, he halted in some surprise. The loose-limbed Cradley rose and advanced towards him, hand outstretched, unaware that his features were not unknown to Sir Rowland.149
‘Kempsey, good to meet you. I see we are to be near neighbours, and also possess some form of family connection.’
Sir Rowland responded rather automatically. He had not associated the name and the face in any way, but he ought to have, since Miss Lound had given the family name clearly enough.
‘Cradley. Yes, quite near neighbours, but as to a familial relationship, it is but through a marriage which comes later than your branch of the family diverges. I think it tenuous.’
‘No matter. We can claim it to be as close as we wish, eh?’ Lord Cradley smiled, and Sir Rowland saw the calculation in the eyes.
As far as Sir Rowland was concerned, the link between them was non-existent. When his middle sister had made her come out, primarily under the aegis of his aunt, since his mother had been suffering from a recurrence of her ill health, there had been a ‘hiccough’ in the smooth transition from maid to matron, and some tears and stern words. Aunt Maria was no fool, and a forceful personality. When Elizabeth, a very pretty girl, had made her curtsey to Society, she had been courted by quite a few young gentlemen of impeccable lineage and character, and a few who were deficient, at least in the latter. It was almost bound to be that at least one of these silver-tongued gentlemen would impress her, and the man now standing before him was ‘the one’. Sir Rowland wondered if Cradley had made the association himself or150whether he made advances to so many young ladies that their names were forgotten in a Season. It was five years ago, and although Mr Jasper Risley had been pointed out to him, they had not actually met, Aunt Maria being very firm in saying that she could deal with the matter perfectly well without ‘some hot-headed brother making a mountain out of a molehill’. What Aunt Maria had said was that the man was not the sort she would ever wish to see allied with her niece, for he had a reputation with women that was not savoury.
Elizabeth had been flattered, made very much the object of his affections for several weeks, and then he had been unwise enough as to hand deliver a note to the house which laid plans for an assignation. Unluckily for him, Aunt Maria had been in the hall herself at that minute and recognised his voice. She had demanded that the missive be opened by Elizabeth in her presence, and shown to her, whilst animadverting upon the foolishness of girls who acceptedbillet-douxfrom ‘unscrupulous devils’. This had resulted in Elizabeth declaring her aunt a monster, and throwing herself upon her brother’s chest when he came shortly afterwards to visit, but thankfully a very much more acceptable, and blatantly adoring, suitor had taken Risley’s place within a couple of weeks. Sir Rowland had merely remained in Town and squired his sister at a few parties, and played ‘guard dog’ just in case. Elizabeth, now married to her adoring suitor, and the mother of two small boys, had put the whole thing very much behind her, and in truth, it was not some great151scandal. She had been but eighteen and naive, and Miss Lound was far more mature, but Sir Rowland was glad that he would not feel duty-bound to warn her of the man’s reputation.
His visit had been of short duration, and his response to the suggestion of friendship polite but cool. Lord Cradley put him down as a stiff-mannered bore, but consoled himself with the knowledge that he would scarcely be a rival for the smiles of the local ladies, Miss Banham in particular.
Miss Lound presented herself at the door of Tapley End at a quarter to three, having briefly diverted past the lake to assess the degree of sun and shadow. She was taken aback to find an unfamiliar face open the door to her.
‘Oh. Good afternoon. I am Miss Lound, come to take Sir Rowland for a fishing lesson.’
‘Good afternoon, madam. Sir Rowland is expecting you. If you would hand me your … equipment and be pleased to follow me.’
She handed him the basket and net, but retained a firm hold on the rod bag. She also resisted the urge to say that whoever he was, she knew her way about the house far better than he did, but obediently followed him to the yellow saloon, where Mr Tom Kempsey rose to greet her.
‘Good afternoon, ma’am. My brother is just attiring himself suitably for things piscatorial.’
‘As you have seen previously, Mr Kempsey, “drab and battered” is best. I hope he has scoured his wardrobe for152things near to being thrown out.’
‘Best you do not let his valet hear that, ma’am. He is always complaining that Rowland does not follow the fashions enough and wears things for too long.’
‘I declare myself with Sir Rowland then, for I see no point in wasting good garments for the sake of what is in vogue. However, since I have never sought to cut a dash in Society, it is easy to say.’
As she spoke, the door opened behind her and Sir Rowland entered, not in near rags, but a pair of fawn breeches, and a loose, serviceable overcoat with horn buttons. His locks were topped with a low-crowned hat that could not match hers for dilapidation, but had signs of wear upon the nap.
‘Good afternoon, Miss Lound. Behold me ready for instruction. I hope you approve?’
‘You look perfect, Sir Rowland. The fish will ignore you wonderfully.’
‘Anyone with sense would ignore someone dressed like that,’ mocked Mr Kempsey.
‘And what am I to make of that, Mr Kempsey, since I look worse?’ Miss Lound quizzed him, and he blushed.
‘You have a certain, er,je ne sais quoi, ma’am,’ he offered, after a moment’s thought.
‘There speaks the putative diplomat,’ murmured Sir Rowland. ‘Now, ma’am, if we collect rod and line from the gunroom, shall we begin?’ He held the door open for her, and as she passed she remarked upon the new butler.
