Fran Keighley Page 7

  "You're only lately wed?" Mrs. Nesbitt questioned. As a true lady, not by a flicker of the eye did she indicate any awareness of Lyndon's reputation. "My mama never mentioned your betrothal or marriage, and she is a most faithful correspondent, and would be aware of my interest and wishes for your happiness."

  "Yes, thank you," Amanda responded. "Indeed, most recent, only a few days since, and very quietly, as the cousins with whom I lived, Lord and Lady Drumm, were in black gloves."

  "You have wed into the Devonridge family?" Mrs. Nesbitt questioned alertly. "My dearest Amanda, I do felicitate you. And you mean to live here? You will be a vast addition to local society, I do assure you. I hope you and Mr. Lyndon won't find us dull, and desert us for the excitements of town."

  "For my part, I don't expect to, and it was Mr. Lyndon's grandpapa's settling Highbriars upon him to enable him to breed horses which allowed us to wed, so I fancy we are indeed fixed here for the greater part of the year." Not strictly true, Amanda reflected, but more respectable for public dissemination than the actual story.

  "Horses!" exclaimed Marianne Nesbitt. "He and my dearest John will find much in common. John, you must know, is Master of our local Hunt, and most particular as to what he rides and drives, and well do I remember the fine horseflesh which Mr. Lyndon always had."

  That meant that Marianne also remembered Julian Lyndon's reputation. Of course she did, for she and Amanda had shared several seasons at Almack's before she had married a country squire some few years her senior and had left London except for brief visits during the Season. However, she was too well-bred to make mention of it, or to demand to have her curiosity satisfied as to how he and Amanda had met and wed.

  Instead, Marianne said, "We must call upon you soon. Are you at home? However, for now I will say adieu."

  "Yes, do come. We are still in great confusion, but you won't mind that? Marianne, it is delightful to find oneself among friends. I shall call upon you when I am next in town. At present, I must indeed be off, if I am to reach home in time to pour Mr. Lyndon's tea."

  * * *

  The sight of Highbriars, on her return, gave Amanda a thrill of pleasure. Home! With everything that needed to be done to it, already it felt like home to her. Particularly now she was beginning to put her stamp upon it. Such a welcoming house, as if it knew she would take care of it.

  Lyndon, strolling outside to hand Amanda from the carriage, laughed aloud at the sight of all her purchases.

  "My love, you should have hired a carrier! The old gentleman will think he has leaped from frying pan into the fire when he receives bills for all this."

  "I did hire a carrier; these are merely my small purchases," Amanda replied, unruffled, and bent to stroke a gray tiger cat which came to rub against her skirts. "The others should arrive tomorrow. Price, if you will have the pattern books carried into the drawing room? I thought, sir, that you might assist me to choose fabrics, particularly for your study."

  Amanda had in mind that Lyndon might consent to glance through the books after dinner, but as they lingered over tea, he pulled a book toward him and opened it, thoughtfully surveying the swatches of rich fabric mounted therein. Gratified, Amanda brought her teacup, to sit close beside him, where they could look together, discussing colors and designs.

  How different, how marvelously different, life had become. Miraculously so, considering she had gone into it blindly, welcoming any escape from her circumstances. Indeed, even had she been unwilling, Lady Cordelia would have ignored her objections and forced her to accept Lyndon's offer.

  As she had thought in the past, he might have been old, or gross, a brute to beat her, a drunkard, or as silently gloomy and heavy as his cousin Humphrey. That, instead, he was young and attractive, a passionate yet considerate lover, and an agreeable companion, was the miracle, and she continually wondered at it.

  He might, at the least, have resented being forced into marriage, and made her feel his resentment, but he was being most truly the gentleman. Whatever his motives, Amanda deeply appreciated his behavior. She could not tell herself he had fallen in love with her, either before or since their marriage. Fond of her, perhaps.

  "You're not paying the slightest attention," Lyndon accused. "Much good it's doing to peruse these books. And what are you smiling at, pray tell?"

  "Oh!" Amanda gasped, coloring prettily. He'd think her besotted if she unburdened herself of what she had truly reflected. "Merely, how glad I am to be married to you, rather than someone like Humphrey. Although I'm sure he's most worthy."

  "A demmed sight too worthy. And," Lyndon said deliberately, one brow soaring, "if it comes to that, love, I'd far rather have you to wife than Eulalia. I hear tell she was a beauty when they were wed, but now! It's enough to give a man the megrims, Eulalia across his breakfast table and in his bed. No wonder he's taken to drink. I do grant he has cause to drink. I shouldn't care to be in his shoes, I can tell you. The way he looks and drinks, I shouldn't expect him to live to any great age. You may end your days a duchess yet. How would you like that?"

  Amanda shook her head. "I fear that's too fantastic to contemplate. Now, if I promise to keep my attention on the patterns...?"

  "I'd rather you kept it on my perfections as a husband," Lyndon teased. "What's the time? Eh, we'd best postpone this study until after dinner, and change for that event, else we'll be sadly late and your cook will be giving notice in a huff at her ruined dishes."

  Startled, Amanda glanced at the mantel clock. Where had the time flown? They had been finishing their tea when they'd started looking through the patterns, and now here it was, quite time to prepare to dine.

  She rose, and turned back, gracefully bending to give him a quick kiss. "Your perfections as a husband, sir? The easiest thing in the world."

  This was, she was positive, the happiest day of her life, and there was no reason to suppose similarly happy ones would not follow. Many of them.

  Was there?

  A disagreeable small voice whispered inside her head that such happiness was too good to be true, and certainly too good to last.

  * * *

  Chapter Seven

  Lyndon spent the following days overseeing stable repairs, while for her part, Amanda supervised renovations of the house and the laying of the new Oriental carpets when they arrived.

  "Thank heaven, Lady Mathilda has not come to assist, after all." Amanda lifted the teapot and refilled Lyndon's cup, reflecting she had been wise to send a note to that good lady, expressing appreciation for the advice and lists. She stressed how busy she was, journeying to the shops and spending hours selecting precisely the best items. She was hardly ever home, and when she was, the house was in such disarray due to all the changes. "There is too much for me to do here now to spend time away, especially as Nesbitts and others may well call. I should prefer Highbriars to be in better form when they do."

  Smiling, he accepted the cup, then a teasing glint lit his eyes, and a brow rose mockingly. "You mean there are things left unbought in the shops? I supposed you did not return to town because you bought them out."

  Amanda made a little face at him. "I did not. No such thing, sir."

  He shrugged. "Well, you must admit that the arrival of your purchases would lead me to think so." He pretended to try to remember. "How many wagons did they fill? Three? Four? A full dozen? Plus pack ponies?"

  "One only. As you know full well."

  Amanda's confidence in her new position in life grew steadily. Living under Lady Cordelia's roof had not been calculated to create self-assurance. Now Amanda discovered that being mistress of her own home was vastly different, particularly with a husband who petted and teased and flattered her.

  Mrs. Lyndon of Highbriars, granddaughter-in-law to the Duke of Devonridge, was not at all the same as the mousy Miss Blackton, and she thrived upon the changes.

  A gardener had been hired and boys from the village had been employed to assist him, while Mrs. Price bustled about happily, with a fu
ll complement of maids to direct. The cook reveled in having a master and mistress who appreciated her more sophisticated sauces and creations, after years of serving only an elderly semi-invalid and staff. Under the combined labor force, both the interior and exterior of Highbriars was losing its air of neglect.

  The entry hall and rooms which callers would see were the first to be transformed, and the drive was weeded, freshly graveled, and rolled smooth, and just in time, for the better families of the region were not slow to call.

  The vicar and his wife were among the first, and Amanda won that good lady's approval by giving her, as planned, the hand-me-down clothing.

  Lyndon, when called in to play host, was properly courteous and hospitable, as he was again when the squire and his lady called on the following day, making those excellent people conclude that his reputation had doubtless been exaggerated and besmirched by malicious tongues. The vicar was inspired for an eloquent sermon for Sunday upon the evils of gossip.

  "Next I daresay you'll be expecting me to go to church of a Sunday," Lyndon commented upon their departure. "I pray, ma'am, you will not feel it necessary for me to suffer through many more such calls."

  "Oh, Lyndon, but you behaved so beautifully," Amanda protested. "I was all admiration, I vow. Really, don't you think you could bring yourself to it? Just from time to time, at first? Then I'll make apologies for you, truly I will. So busy, called away, regrets, et cetera."

  "I shan't be any busier than I am now," Lyndon growled. "Chitchat over the tea cups is not in my line. Oh, very well, ma'am, occasionally, if it please you."

  The call of the Nesbitts a few days later was far more to his taste than that of the local squire had been. Indeed, his attention was caught by the handsome blood-bay hunter Mr. Nesbitt was hacking, and interest in that resulted in the gentlemen falling deep into conversation and sauntering out to the stables. They were not to be seen again until Amanda sent them a summons to tea. That, of course, afforded Amanda and Mrs. Nesbitt an opportunity for a comfortable coze about their London circle of acquaintance as well as the people whom Amanda had met or shortly would meet in this locale.

  Mrs. Nesbitt started the visit well by presenting Amanda with a smallish covered basket. Opened, it was discovered to hold a tiny pug puppy, golden-fawn with a wrinkled black face, mischievous bulging eyes, panting pink tongue, and curly tail.

  "I remembered how you had always desired a pet, and fortunately, my Dolly has recently weaned these," Marianne Nesbitt explained. "Do, I beseech you, guard against overfeeding it and letting it turn into a nasty, fat, cross, wheezing little beast such as some you may see."

  "I will. Oh, what a darling. Thank you so much," Amanda exclaimed. "Miss Louisa Lyndon, who lived here until her demise, kept cats, and we see much of them. Indeed, there are some charming kittens, but they are not at all the same as a dog. Thank you. This is what I wanted of all things."

  The gentlemen, upon rejoining the ladies for tea, were less enthusiastic; Mr. Nesbitt, of course, was quite accustomed to his wife's pug family, and at any rate, he had a personal preference for sporting dogs.

  "Yes indeed," Lyndon concurred. "Now that we are fixed in the country, I think I shall look about for a good gun-dog of some sort. A spaniel or a pointer." However, even as he spoke, he fed the pug puppy bits of his sandwich, in an attempt to teach it to sit up, and to speak.

  His words inaugurated a new deep mutual interest in the gentlemen, as Mr. Nesbitt extolled some of the dogs he had hunted behind, and made suggestions as to where Lyndon might purchase a likely young 'un, and conversely, breeders to avoid.

  The two ladies exchanged a significant glance; the friendship forming between their husbands meant that they themselves should see far more of one another than if there had been indifference or antipathy.

  And, Amanda thought with a growing sense of satisfaction, Mr. Nesbitt was such a good friend for Lyndon to have, encouraging his better interests rather than his wilder side.

  * * *

  Days passed and visits continued. One surprising caller was Lord Devonridge, having himself driven over quite alone. Seeing the coach, Amanda had expected it to be Lady Mathilda, possibly accompanied by Eulalia, finally coming to see whether her instructive advice was being carried out to her satisfaction.

  But the Duke of Devonridge alone! Whatever could this mean?

  "Oh, sir, and you find me here by myself; Lyndon has rid out and no telling when he'll be back or where to send a message to catch him!" Amanda exclaimed in dismay. "But come in, do. What am I thinking of to keep you standing out so long in this wind."

  The old man's eyes were suddenly sharp under those ferociously bristling brows. "Leaving you alone already, is he? I'll have a word to speak to that young rascal. He isn't making you unhappy?"

  "Oh, no, sir. Truly, you'll be proud of him; he isn't away in a neglectful way," Amanda hastened to explain, horrified how he had misunderstood her words. "He's taking the greatest interest in the land and stables; today he was riding to inspect the fences he'd ordered repaired, and to confer with the bailiff and dear knows what else. I had feared he might find the country sadly dull, but he's keeping most busy."

  "Hmm, hmm, and I see you've been most busy, yourself, my dear. I'd hardly know the house and grounds, the way you've set them to right and improved them." The duke sounded gratified, as he gave a piercing stare all around. "But come, sit down, tell me more of this. It's seldom I hear good reports of that young man. Taking an interest, is he?"

  "Yes, sir, he is." Swiftly, Amanda thought that instead of this being a bad thing that the duke had arrived during Lyndon's absence, it might prove to be most fortunate. "I believe it may well be what he's needed all these years: an interest to busy him. He's had overmuch idle time with no responsibilities, and surely that can't be good for a man?"

  "Hmm, you could be correct," Lord Devonridge granted, his frown now only one of concentration. "No vice to the boy, just recklessness and extravagance. Though those can be bad enough, mind you. The scrapes he's been in, first and last, and I doubt we've seen the last, at that. You think he needs to be set to work, do you?"

  "I think it would be most wise to encourage his interests here, and his friendship with Mr. Nesbitt, who seems a most worthy gentleman," Amanda said quietly. "Certainly, if he's here taking an interest in Highbriars and breeding horses, he isn't in London with wild companions, gaming and accepting outlandish wagers which cause talk. And that, sir, puts me in mind. You must know how he is famed for the quality of the horses he rides and drives-"

  "Leaping them over dinner tables and riding them up a staircase and setting himself to graze the wheels of the first ten carriages he passes without overturning them. I'd prefer to forget," growled his grandsire.

  "But consider the horsemanship and beautifully trained animals which it required to perform such feats successfully," Amanda urged persuasively. "Certainly, sir, most reprehensible and undesirable. And instead, most desirable to encourage the formation of other friends and interests. It is a matter which I have been giving much thought."

  "You have, have you?" His lordship studied her, curious and approving. "May I assume you have reached conclusions how to achieve this aim?"

  Amanda nodded, serious and intent upon convincing him. "Yes, sir, I believe that I have. He has been talking of breeding and training horses; it seems that Highbriars is particularly suited to such a pursuit. You have already been more than generous, sir, and I, for one, can never thank you enough, but could you-would you-invest a bit more in Lyndon's future, by enabling him to purchase some brood mares and young stock? I'm sure that selecting and training them would keep him far too busy here to be getting into expensive scrapes with his set in London."

  "Hmm, now, I'll put that under consideration," Lord Devonridge promised. "It's a good little wife he has in you, my dear; he's a lucky man, whether he's aware of it or not."

  Amanda's dark lashes made little fans against her cheeks. "He has been most kind to me, sir
, and I need hardly say I'd prefer not to have my husband running deep in debt or the subject of everyone's gossip. I believe that a little encouragement just now, while his interest is caught here, may be the very thing."

  "So it could. So it could," the duke granted thoughtfully. "You'll be the making of him, child. I count the family fortunate the day you wed him."

  * * *

  Thus it was that Lyndon, returning home to find his grandfather's coach in the stable yard, and apprehensively hastening into the house, was hailed with an affable request to be shown the renovations he had under way in the stables and to be told more of these plans of his.

  Lyndon quickly hid his surprise, and Amanda watched them set off in the direction of the stables, Lyndon matching his pace to that of his grandsire.

  She thought-she hoped-that she had his lordship in a rare mood of approval; now if some imp of perversity wouldn't prompt Lyndon to ruin it all.

  He would not-would he? For all their honeymoon delights, she still was not sufficiently acquainted with him to be at all sure. His past behavior had not been the most wise. How deep were those habits set?

  Amanda judged it advisable, regardless, to go and instruct Mrs. Price to have tea set forward. She might find it necessary to feed and smooth down his lordship once more, but at any rate he would doubtless welcome a cup of Darjeeling. Lyndon would of a certainty be sharp-set after spending the better part of the day in the saddle, unless of course he had eaten with one of the farm families. No inns existed out in the direction he had ridden. Cook had packed sandwiches and other goodies in a saddlebag, but even so, he would be hungry again by now. The pug puppy bouncing at her heels, Amanda went to confer with Mrs. Price and Cook about tea.

  Amanda's quick glance, when the gentlemen returned indoors, was enough to inform her that all had gone well.

  Lord Devonridge had never viewed his grandson's horses save as the expensive instruments of the latest scrape. Now, studying them while in good humor, he was impressed by their quality and training, and, as well, by the eye which had selected them and the hands which had trained them and managed them so effortlessly.