Lord Hawkridge's Secret. ANNE ASHLEY
that I ought to have my own personal groom, was it?’
‘I cannot recall her ever mentioning it, no. What makes you ask?’
Puzzled, Emily shook her head. ‘I don’t know, but I’ve always thought it most odd that Grandfather should have thought of employing a personal groom for me. It isn’t the sort of thing that would cross his mind. Come to that, I’m rather surprised he ever considered employing a duenna. I wonder which interfering busybody was responsible for putting such an idiotic notion into his head in the first place?’
As no immediate candidate sprang to mind, Emily didn’t dwell on the conundrum over long, and turned her head to gaze briefly through the French windows at the very pleasing sight of the garden beyond the terrace bathed in bright April sunshine. ‘I do hope the weather remains fair. We can go out riding again tomorrow if it does.’
She turned back in time to catch a faint frown puckering her friend’s brow. ‘What is it, Sarah? You said how much you enjoyed our ride this morning.’
‘Yes, I did,’ she readily confirmed. ‘I haven’t ridden in such a long time. And I should dearly like to join you again, except…except tomorrow I promised Godmama that I would return to the Hall and help with the flower arrangements.’
Emily managed to suppress a snort of derision, but could not resist saying, ‘Oh, Sarah, I despair of you sometimes.’
Grey eyes clearly betrayed puzzlement. ‘But why? There will be plenty of opportunities to go riding while I remain here. I really did enjoy this morning’s exercise, and it was so kind of you to loan me one of your habits.’
‘I’d let you keep the wretched thing if I thought there was the remotest possibility of your making use of it after you return to the Hall.’
Striving to maintain a firm grasp on a temper which sadly could on occasions erupt with quite surprising force, Emily rose to her feet and went to stand before the window. ‘Are you honestly trying to tell me that Lady Deverel and the divine Drusilla, with the help of an army of servants, are incapable of arranging a few vases of flowers?’
‘Of course not. But Godmama considers that I have a flair for such things and particularly requested me to do the flowers for Drusilla’s birthday party.’
‘You are at that confounded family’s beck and call from dawn till dusk!’ Emily exclaimed, not so successful this time in putting a guard on her tongue, and Sarah was clearly surprised by the depth of contempt.
‘But—but I thought you liked the Deverels?’
Emily swung round, determined now to speak her mind. ‘Lady Deverel is undeniably a charming woman, and I do like her, yes. But even you cannot deny she’s dreadfully indolent. I always rubbed along very well with her late husband. But Drusilla’s nothing more than a spoilt beauty, too accustomed to having her own way. And getting it too! And Charles is an utter clodpole for not exerting more authority over his household since coming into the title.’
’emily, how can you say so?’ Sarah retorted, betraying a surprising show of annoyance for someone whose disposition was in general very placid. ‘Charles is a most thoughtful, charming gentleman. He never fails to offer his thanks for the small tasks I perform. And he isn’t a clodpole!’
Not unduly surprised by this display of staunch loyalty on Sarah’s part, Emily turned to stare out of the window once more, thereby concealing a wickedly knowing smile.
She had long since been made aware of the fact that both she and Sarah were considered immensely pretty young ladies by the majority of those living in the locale. Undeniably, when seen together, they made a pleasing contrast: she with her shining, dusky locks; Sarah with her blonde curls. Although neither of them might be considered conventionally beautiful, both had been blessed with regular features and excellent figures, and were handsome enough to win a second glance from the vast majority of masculine eyes. Consequently it was little wonder that their continued single state had given rise to a deal of gossip and speculation in recent years.
For her part, Emily experienced no desire to find herself a husband, and had made no secret of this fact in an attempt to dissuade any would-be suitors foolishly offering for her hand. Four visits to Brighton in as many years had produced several proposals of marriage, all of which she had kindly but firmly refused. Her disinclination to wed, she supposed, might have been easier to understand if she had revealed a dislike of masculine company, but in fact the opposite was true.
She rubbed along remarkably well with her grandfather who, it had to be said, was not the most scintillating company for much of the time, preferring the peace and quiet of his large and well-stocked library, where he could pursue his many and varied hobbies. She was unfailingly gracious to her grandfather’s male friends who visited the house, and was upon friendly terms with them all. Younger men, however, with the possible exception of Sir Charles Deverel, whom she had always regarded as a perfect gentleman, she tended to keep at a distance.
Emily considered that her friend’s continued single state was a little easier for the local gossips to comprehend. Although Sarah came from an old and well-respected family, her parents had not been wealthy and her dowry by all accounts was woefully small. Any discerning gentleman, however, wouldn’t take account of this, for Sarah’s sweet nature and charming manners, coupled with her undeniable ability to run a large household efficiently, certainly went a long way to make up for any lack of fortune.
It was generally felt that it was a great pity that Lady Deverel, having suffered the loss of her husband the previous year, had been obliged to postpone launching her only daughter into Society. It had been Lady Deverel’s intention to include Sarah in the proposed visit to the capital, and many had voiced the belief that both young ladies would have found themselves engaged before the Season was over. Emily, on the other hand, knew better. Although she felt sure that Drusilla, undeniably a beauty, would have had no difficulty in securing herself a suitable husband, she felt equally certain that any proposals which might have come Sarah’s way would have been politely but firmly refused.
Perhaps, she mused, some might consider that Sarah had set her sights too high, and that it would be far more sensible to be practical and encourage the attentions of the local vicar who had been showing a marked interest in her of late, but Emily thought differently. Why should Sarah agree to marry a man she did not love, when there was every chance she might attain her heart’s desire?
Emily turned her attention away from the view beyond the window to discover the angry spots of colour still lingering in her friend’s delicate cheeks. ‘I knew you would be unable to resist coming to your darling Charles’s defence.’ She smiled as the becoming flush deepened. ‘You might have succeeded in concealing your long-standing attachment from the world at large. But you’ve never fooled me.’
All at once Sarah appeared unable to meet that knowing, blue-eyed gaze. ‘I cannot imagine what you mean,’ she announced, delightfully flustered.
Emily’s glance was openly sceptical. ‘Oh, I think you know perfectly well what I mean. You’ve been in love with Charles almost from the moment you went to live at Deverel Hall. Don’t attempt to deny it,’ she added, when Sarah looked about to do just that. ‘I have little difficulty in interpreting the signs, simply because I’ve experienced the emotion myself.
‘Surprised, Sarah?’ Emily’s shout of laughter contained precious little mirth. ‘Yes, I can see you are. Clearly I’m far more adept at concealment than you.’
Sarah gazed across at her dearest friend in dawning wonder. ‘You—you’ve been in love, Em? You’ve never said anything before.’
‘It isn’t something I care to think about too often, let alone talk about,’ she admitted. ‘Even after several years I still find it painful.’
Sarah frowned. ‘You must have been very young.’
‘I was. But then I’d loved Sebastian Hawkridge all my life. I simply adored him when I was a child, used to follow him about everywhere. He was our nearest neighbour, and my mother’s godson.’
‘What