The Regency Season: Hidden Desires. Anne Herries

The Regency Season: Hidden Desires - Anne Herries


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yourself in the country, Meg. You can make friends and go out for walks when I don’t need you.’

      ‘I was a country girl until your papa employed me to look after you,’ Meg replied. ‘We make our own fun in the country. I always loved the haymaking as a girl—and gathering in the May blossom.’

      ‘Tell me about your childhood,’ Jenny said. ‘We’ve never talked like this before and I should so much like to know all about your family and what you did as a young girl...’

      * * *

      His thumping head had almost cleared now. The fresh air was doing him a power of good and he was glad he’d decided to drive himself down in his phaeton. Alas, his favourite high-perch phaeton with the bright yellow wheels and the matched blacks he’d prized so much had had to be sold to pay his immediate debts. He now had more than five hundred guineas in his account, which meant he could stop worrying—at least for the time being.

      Adam’s goal of having one of the best breeding stables in the country might have suffered a little from the loss of his blacks, but he still had the greys and the chestnuts, both teams excellent horseflesh. He’d always been a good judge of horses and gentlemen wishing to improve their stables often sought his advice. Had he wished he could have begun to put his land in order by selling more of his stable, but then his dream would vanish into thin air. However, the perch phaeton was a luxury and the more mundane vehicle he was driving now served him just as well.

      It would be good to see his cousins again. Since they were forever pressing him to stay he would not feel that he was in any way impinging on their hospitality. Mark had spoken of wishing to buy some good bloodstock in order to set up his stables and, with the addition of the mare Adam had decided to give him as a wedding gift, it could easily be done. They might ride out to a few sales in the neighbourhood and discover whether there was anything worth purchasing.

      Seeing the carriage blocking the road ahead, Adam brought his horses to a gentle halt and threw the reins to his tiger as he got down to investigate. It was obvious that the coach was old and something had broken—the leading pole by the looks of things. It had lurched sideways, only prevented from overturning by some skilled handling of the horses by the coachman. As Adam went to investigate, he saw two young women sitting on a blanket at the side of the road. One was obviously a maid, the other was a young lady of gentle birth dressed plainly in an elegant, but serviceable rather than fashionable, gown.

      ‘I am sorry to find you in trouble, ladies,’ he said and swept off his hat. ‘Is there anything I may do to help you?’

      ‘My uncle’s groom has gone to fetch a blacksmith,’ the young lady in green said. ‘I think it will need several men to get this wretched coach off the road—and I am informed that the nearest inn is more than a mile away.’

      ‘Yes, I believe there is an inn of sorts—but not at all suitable for ladies.’ Adam hesitated, then, ‘Where are you headed?’

      ‘The Dawlish estate. I am going to stay with Lucy and her family.’

      ‘Yes, I know the Dawlish family,’ Adam said. ‘I am going down to stay with Lucy’s bridegroom’s family—my cousins. The estates are not far apart. I could take you both up in my phaeton. However, your coachman must make arrangements to send on your baggage for I cannot accommodate it.’

      ‘Most of my things were sent ahead by wagon,’ Jenny said. ‘Coachman shall do as you suggest—if I may bring my box with me?’

      Adam saw the small trunk lying on the grass beside them and guessed it held her personal items and valuables.

      ‘Yes, of course. Your companion may hold it on her lap.’ He approached and offered his hand, ‘Allow me, Miss...’

      ‘Hastings—Jenny Hastings.’ Adam noticed the faint blush in her cheeks and the way her hand trembled in his, as he helped her to rise. It was only as he was handing her into his phaeton that he realised she was the lady he’d noticed at the last ball he’d attended in London. She’d looked at him with decided disapproval that night, though as far as he knew they’d never met before today. ‘I knew Lucy at school. My father is dead and they have kindly offered me a home.’

      Her slight embarrassment and the plainness of her gown and pelisse made Adam think that she was reduced to accepting kindness from her friends. It would seem that her father’s demise had left her in difficult circumstances and she was to be some kind of a companion, though treated as a friend rather than a paid servant. It was a situation that many young ladies of good birth found themselves in when a death in the family left them with too little fortune to manage for themselves.

      She was wearing a pretty silver-and-enamelled brooch pinned to her pelisse. Of little value, it was exactly the kind of ornament a girl in her position would prize. He wondered that she had told him so much of her situation for she need not, and yet perhaps she felt her come down keenly and did not wish him to think her a privileged guest. He smiled at her kindly, because now he understood the expression she’d worn that evening in London. She had not been disapproving of him in particular, but was at odds with the world itself for leaving her in her present circumstances.

      Adam could sympathise, for his own circumstances were not too far different. Miss Hastings would not have the avenue of marriage to a rich heiress open to her. Being a man, and heir to a title, he had a distinct advantage, as his problems might have been solved had he a little less pride. For a young woman like this there were few options open to her other than to seek paid employment or live as a dependent in the home of a friend—unless she was fortunate enough to be asked for in marriage. If she were prepared to accept an older man or a widower with a family, she might be fortunate enough to find a comfortable match—although was there any comfort to be had in a loveless marriage?

      Having settled Miss Hastings in the carriage, he helped the young maid to sit behind and took up the reins from his tiger. By driving with great care, he managed to pass the stricken coach and mount the grass verge, negotiating a tricky passage with ease.

      ‘You drive very well,’ Miss Hastings observed and Adam smiled. He was considered a notable whip, but had no intention of puffing off his consequence. ‘Papa was a whip—indeed, I shall never understand how he came to overset his chaise at such speed that he was thrown to the ground and killed.’

      ‘Accidents will happen even to the best of us,’ Adam said in a sympathetic tone. ‘I am sorry for your loss, Miss Hastings.’

      ‘It was almost a year ago now, which is why I’ve left off my blacks. My aunt was anxious for me to wear colours again—but I shall continue to wear grey and lilac for a little longer.’

      ‘Your gown today is a very pretty green, however.’

      ‘A present from my aunt. I felt obliged to wear it since she had gone to so much trouble to have it made up for me.’

      ‘Ah, I see...’ Adam concentrated on his driving. ‘It will be late afternoon by the time we arrive at Ravenscar. If we dine there, I can send word to Lady Dawlish. She may have you fetched—or I can drive you there after we’ve eaten. To arrive after dark without explanation might cause some adverse comment...’

      ‘You think Lady Dawlish might consider it improper in me to allow you to take us up?’

      ‘I would not wish to have anyone form the wrong conclusion.’

      ‘But surely...I have my maid...’

      ‘Yes, but I...well, I have been known to support a pretty...mistress in the past and I would not wish anyone to receive the wrong impression.’

      ‘Oh...’ A sideways glance told him that her cheeks flamed. ‘I had not thought...only how kind it was...’ She floundered and Adam took pity on her.

      ‘You are quite safe with me. I do not seduce innocent young ladies, even if I have the reputation of being a rake—which is not truly deserved, though I say it myself.’

      ‘You are very thoughtful for my sake.’

      ‘A young woman in your


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