for the Dakota, shall we? This has been a difficult day.”
He tapped the carriage door once with his fingers, giving his assent, and climbed up onto the driver’s seat. Annis breathed a great sigh of relief and heard her aunt do the same. The carriage began to move, the steady hoofbeats of the horse taking them away to safety.
Frances’s eyes didn’t flicker as the scenery changed. Her bosom, shrunken nearly to nothing, barely moved with her breath. She seemed hardly alive, but Annis knew the truth. Her stepmother’s mind still functioned, though the link with her body had been irretrievably broken. The tragedy of it was beyond bearing, and she turned her face to the window so Harriet would not see the tears on her cheeks.
45
James
James took a final look in the mirror. His jacket was impeccably brushed, thanks to Perry. His hair was trimmed, and he was clean shaven. His boots were polished. He swished some eau de cologne around his mouth and spit, then straightened and made a minute adjustment to his tie. He was ready.
It was, he had discovered, a day when George Allington worked on correspondence at home instead of at the factory. He would be in his study until luncheon. James wasn’t sure where his study might be, but after smoothing his hair one last time, he set out in search of it.
For someone who had so recently consigned his ailing wife to an asylum, he found Mr. Allington remarkably cheerful. When James knocked, he greeted him jovially, invited him in, offered him a chair opposite his desk, and rang for coffee.
A neat pile of letters awaited his attention on his desk, and a sheet of stationery, half-covered in small, tidy script, lay on the blotter. Mr. Allington set his pen at an angle across it and pushed it aside. He leaned back, steepling his fingers. “So, young man,” he said. “How are you finding New York? Had a good ride yesterday?”
“I did, sir, and thank you very much for the loan of your horse. He has a fine gait, and an easy disposition.”
“So I recall. Haven’t ridden in a while. Leave all that to my daughter.”
“Your daughter is an impressive horsewoman.”
“So I’m told! I’m no expert, I’m afraid. I suppose you find her not very ladylike.”
James crossed one leg over the other and rested his linked hands on his knee, striving to look relaxed. “I find her most amicable, sir,” he said. “And completely charming. I’ve met any number of ladylike girls and found them dull. Miss Allington is never dull.”
George Allington grinned. “That’s high praise for my handful of a girl.”
“I am very fond of her,” James said. “And that’s why I’m here.”
“Glad to hear you speak plainly, son,” Allington said. “I’m a blunt man myself.”
“Very well.” James uncrossed and recrossed his legs, then realized, with warmth growing in his cheeks, that he wasn’t behaving in a relaxed fashion at all. Damn it all, he thought. Like a green lad with no experience. A boy, when he wanted to be seen as a man.
He cleared his throat, then wished he hadn’t. He said, “I will endeavor to speak plainly, since you encourage it. I believe you know a bit about my circumstances, sir, and—”
“You mean, impoverished nobility and all that?”
For a moment James was struck dumb. Allington had said he was a blunt sort of man, but James had not been prepared for just how blunt he might be. He was startled by how offensive he found it. He shifted in his chair and told himself to let it pass, for Annis’s sake. “Uh, well, sir, I’m afraid—yes. You see, my father, the previous marquess, passed away unexpectedly, and he—there are certain debts—”
“Oh, of course, my boy. There are always debts! God forbid I should die just now and leave Annis with my debts to settle!” Allington gave a hoot of laughter, pushed his chair back, and propped his booted feet on his desk. “So what’s your plan? Sell some land? I understand your estate is extensive.”
“Yes. There is a parcel of land, bordering a neighbor’s property. He has asked to purchase it many times, and now I feel I will have to do that.”
“Got anything else? Livestock? Horses?”
James swallowed, trying to hold in his temper. He had not expected such tactless questions. He didn’t like them, and he wasn’t sure how to respond. It was no wonder, he reflected, that Annis wasn’t particularly ladylike. She was her father’s daughter.