A Lady Of Rare Quality. Anne Ashley
naturally, after Draycot had crossed her path, and tried his utmost to persuade her not to leave Bath, she did begin to have second thoughts about attending the party. Cleverly, Lady Pelham didn’t attempt to remonstrate. She merely said she had no intention of changing her own plans, and that Helen was at liberty to remain behind, if she so wished, providing she stayed in the home of one of Lady Pelham’s close friends. Which resulted in Helen finally deciding herself to accompany her aunt into Devon, despite Mr Draycot’s opposition.
‘Furthermore, during my short stay in Bath, Helen herself revealed that during the time she was still debating on whether to attend her friend’s party, your invitation to stay here at Greythorpe arrived.’ Annis couldn’t suppress a half-smile. ‘Even Helen herself considered it most odd that a gentleman who, in one breath, had been professing himself heartbroken at the mere thought of being parted from her for so much as a long weekend should, in the next, be actively encouraging her to enjoy a protracted stay with relations in Hampshire. I’m as one with my godmother. There is something decidedly smoky about Draycot. And he definitely has a very good reason for not wishing Helen and Godmama to visit Devon.’
The long silence that followed was broken when the Viscount unexpectedly asked, ‘Okehampton is where this forthcoming party is taking place, I believe you said?’
Annis nodded as she watched him rise to his feet, his brow once more furrowed by deep lines of thought as he turned to take up his former stance before one of the windows. When he attempted to say nothing further, she took it to mean that he considered the interview at an end, and was not unduly sorry herself. She had completed the task for which she had been entrusted, and to press the matter further, she strongly suspected, would avail her nothing.
‘Be assured, Miss Milbank, I shall consider carefully what you have told me, and let you know my decision in due course,’ he announced, when the silence was once again broken by the rustling of Annis’s skirts this time, as she rose to her feet. ‘After all, there is no immediate hurry. You won’t be going anywhere for a day or two, I suspect.’
Still unable to decide whether or not he resented this, Annis went across to the door, as content as he appeared to be himself to bring the interview to an end. Then she be-thought herself of another matter, and delved into her pocket, capturing his full attention once again when she tossed the heavy purse down upon his desk.
‘Yours, I believe, sir. I removed it from your pocket when you lay unconscious in the road, and omitted to put it back.’ Annis found herself unable to resist a further smile as she watched his blue eyes focus on the filled leather pouch. ‘Whatever the reason behind the attack upon you, it certainly wasn’t robbery. A further mystery that requires solving, I’m thinking.’
His lordship watched her quietly leave the room before retrieving his property from the desk. ‘Yes, Miss Annis Milbank,’ he murmured, tossing the purse in one hand as though attempting to assess its contents. ‘And no less intriguing than the young woman who retained my property for safekeeping.’
Annis was not destined to cross the Viscount’s path again until that evening, when she joined the family in the small parlour just prior to dinner. Miss Greythorpe had once again proved to be a gracious hostess, keeping her entertained for the majority of the afternoon by taking her on a leisurely tour of the Manor. Louise in particular had proved to be lively company, chuckling constantly at Annis’s less-than-flattering observations about the portraits of the Greythorpe ancestors lining the walls of the picture gallery.
So it came as something of a surprise to Annis to detect a degree of constraint in the atmosphere the instant she entered the comfortable little room where she had spent part of the day plying a needle, while conversing about nothing in particular, or listening to Louise’s highly commendable efforts on the instrument in the corner of the room.
If anything, the atmosphere became a fraction more strained when they took their places in the small, informal dining room, and it wasn’t too difficult for Annis to appreciate why this should be. Although Sarah Greythorpe had been gracious in welcoming a stranger under her roof, there was a definite reserve in her character. Like his lordship, Sarah was not garrulous by nature, and Annis suspected that brother and sister had been content to pass their evenings together in companionable silence. Perhaps both had put themselves out to make slight adjustments in their lifestyle with the advent of Louise’s arrival, but even so it wasn’t to be expected that two such reserved characters would have much in common with a girl of Louise’s age, most especially his lordship, who was clearly finding his young cousin’s natural shyness in his presence somewhat difficult to overcome.
Seized by a benevolent whim, Annis decided to come to his rescue by addressing a remark directly at Louise, thereby forcing the girl to make conversation. ‘I believe you mentioned your parents are at present enjoying an extensive tour of Italy, Louise. When are you expecting them to return?’
‘Late spring,’ was the only response forthcoming.
‘And I seem to recall you mentioned earlier today that you have a brother up at Oxford?’ Annis persisted, determined to see at least a return of a semblance of the girl whose company she had enjoyed earlier in the day.
‘Yes, Tom. In his last letter he said he would try to get down to see me quite soon.’ If anything, she looked more forlorn than before. ‘But I do not think it will be this weekend.’
‘Unlikely,’ his lordship agreed. ‘Only a fool would attempt travelling any distance before a significant thaw.’
‘And with luck that will not be too long in coming,’ Annis put in quickly before his lordship, unintentionally or otherwise, could dampen poor Louise’s spirits further. ‘Then at least you will not be confined to the house, and will no doubt enjoy a good gallop across the park.’
She could see at once by Louise’s crestfallen expression that she had blundered, even before the girl admitted, ‘I don’t ride. I—I don’t like horses.’
‘I’m afraid our cousin suffered a bad fall a year or so ago, and broke her collar bone,’ Sarah explained. ‘As a result she is somewhat nervous round horses now.’
‘Very understandable,’ Annis hurriedly sympathised, thereby successfully recapturing Louise’s attention before the girl could observe the look of impatience that momentarily flickered over his lordship’s features.
Annis strongly suspected he was one of those people who had little sympathy for anyone who made no attempt to overcome his or her fears, and to a certain extent she agreed with this viewpoint. Yet at the same time she could appreciate Louise’s wariness, and decided to voice her further support.
‘Horses, of course, even the most well behaved among them, can be notoriously unpredictable creatures—forever twitching and snorting when one least expects it. And if that isn’t bad enough, you then get the biters and those that do their level best to tread on the toes of the unwary. Worst of all are the kickers!’
Annis wasn’t at all surprised to have retained Louise’s full attention. Evidently the girl wasn’t accustomed to having someone speaking out on her behalf, and she continued to stare across the table in a mixture of gratitude and reverence. Sarah, perhaps finding it a pleasant change not having to seek out topics to keep the dinnertime conversation going, was lending more than a polite ear. His lordship’s gaze too was firmly fixed in Annis’s direction, though there was unmistakably more than just a hint of a suspicious gleam flickering in that razor-sharp stare of his—a suggestion, possibly, of staunch disapproval.
Undeterred by what she strongly suspected might be one listener’s disapprobation, Annis warmed to the subject. ‘My late grandfather once owned a notorious kicker, a beautiful grey hunter, fearless, but downright ruthless to any hapless soul who happened to approach him from the rear. Of course Grandpapa, being Grandpapa, didn’t waste an opportunity to make use of the creature’s failing. I recall quite clearly that morning, and I couldn’t have been more than ten years old at the time, when a close neighbour by the name of McGregor came to call. Being aware of his neighbour’s avaricious tendencies, Grandpapa easily tempted him by tossing a shiny golden guinea down in the line of fire, as