Married to the Rogue (Season of Scandal #3) - Mary Lancaster Page 0,3
on his head and maneuvered the horse past everyone on the path. Almost immediately, the horse broke into a canter, then jumped the hedge into the field beyond, and galloped off into the distance.
“What a strange, abrupt young man,” Deborah’s mother observed. “He seemed much more pleasant when we dined at Coggleton House last week.”
“Ah, well, I suspect his hopes have been dashed,” Sir Edmund excused. “Gosmere Hall is his, you know, held in trust for him, along with a small fortune, by his grandfather.”
“Lord Hawfield?” Lucy asked, perhaps to show Deborah the noble circles to which the family now aspired.
“Yes. They’re always at loggerheads over something, and Halland has been chafing for years to have the trust relaxed.”
“Why?” Deborah’s mother asked. “He does not live there, does he? No one has since we arrived in Coggleton three years ago.”
“Oh, he has plans for the place,” Sir Edmund said vaguely. “He arranged for his lordship to meet him at Gosmere to explain them, hoping to extract his inheritance early, but clearly the old gentleman has not bitten. May I escort you ladies wherever you are going?”
“Oh, we were just walking,” Lucy said.
“I think we’ve come far enough,” their mother said. “But walk with us, by all means, Sir Edmund. Perhaps you could join us for tea?”
Sir Edmund glanced at his fob timepiece. “Sadly, I have an appointment.” He wrinkled his nose. “Dull estate business, you understand, but has to be done. However, I shall be glad if I may walk back to the village with you.”
Deborah had plenty of opportunities to observe Sir Edmund and Lucy during the walk home. Without neglecting their mother and with frequent remarks cast at one or other of the children, he still found plenty of opportunities to stroll with Lucy, a little distance in front of the main party. They appeared to enjoy these more private conversations, and by the time they bade him goodbye, Deborah began to feel much more hopeful.
“Only, why on earth did you tell him I’m the governess?” she demanded of Lucy as they sat down in the parlor once more.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Lucy said carelessly. “It just slipped out.”
“Well, you had better tell him the truth, or it will create a very odd impression of you,” their mother said severely, although she had hardly disputed the claim at the time.
“It will create an odder impression if I change the story now,” Lucy retorted. “Besides, Deb will be gone again soon to another position, will she not? He need not see her again for ages, and when he does, he will not remember her, for no one notices the governess.”
“It could take me weeks to find a suitable position,” Deborah pointed out when she could speak. “And I am hardly unknown in the neighborhood. The entire village knows we do not employ a governess. Apart from Miss Figgis now and again.”
“Besides,” their mother said crossly, “one of the points of your marrying Sir Edmund, Lucy, is that she need not take any more positions.”
“You will have to tell him the truth,” Deborah urged. “Otherwise, the silly lie will come back and bite you.”
“I would not have to lie if you were not ruined!” Lucy snapped.
Deborah fell back against the cushions as though she had been struck.
Lucy’s gaze fell. “I shouldn’t have said it, but how can I possibly take it back again now?”
Deborah swallowed. “Make a joke of it. The children clearly did. You were only going along with their nonsense and never expected him to take you seriously.”
Lucy raised her gaze once more and gave a twisted smile. “You’re a better liar than I am, Deb. You should be able to come up with something equally good to justify your scandal.”
“If there is any scandal,” their mother said firmly. “I am still hopeful nothing will come of it. The papers will be too full of the princess going abroad to even mention her lades.”
Deborah hoped so, too, though somehow, she didn’t believe it would be quite that simple.
Chapter Two
Christopher Halland slowed his horse, breathing deeply to calm the storm within. His rage now was more with himself than with his grandfather. Nearly riding down the young lady and the child had pierced his selfish temper too acutely.
He could not deny he had been careering across the country like a lunatic, furiously vowing to marry the first unwed female he came across, whether she was a milkmaid or a middle-aged spinster.