Page 22 of The Secret Love of a Gentleman
While Drew talked, Rob’s mind raced, searching forsomething to say. He wanted to ask questions that might draw Caroline into a conversation, but his mind drew a blank.
The next service contained a salmon terrine, chicken in aspic and roasted venison.
He lifted his glass and took a sip of wine, as Caroline did, and once again their gazes collided. He smiled and lifted his eyebrows, in a humorous expression, as he would if it were Mary across the table.
Caroline’s skin turned pink and she looked at Mary. ‘What will you do tomorrow?’
His jocular communication had been a step too far.
‘I am planning to drive to Maidstone and visit some of the shops. You may join me…’
‘That would be pleasant.’ Caroline nodded.
So, Caroline did occasionally leave the house.
As they ate the next course, Mary talked through the things she wanted to buy in Maidstone. Caro pushed her food about the plate, she was not very hungry, it was too odd with Robbie at the table. Because he sat opposite her it was only natural for him to look at her, and yet he was doing his best to comply with her request and not do so.
‘Friends’, he had proposed this morning. And she had said ‘that would be nice’. How would she know? She had never had a friend. Mary was the closest person to such a thing, but Mary was Drew’s confidante, and Caro had avoided interfering too deeply in their closeness.
Albert returned to her thoughts. Even from the beginning, when Albert adored and admired her, he never treated her as an equal – a friend. He would never consider any woman his friend.
Her gaze caught on Robbie’s again as the second course was removed. He smiled. His smiles were swift and natural, without artifice. She would guess Robbie had no cunning in him. He was truly kind, thoughtful and… a gentleman. And unlike the other young men in his family, he was neither brash nor assertive, but confident. At his age, Drew fought against the world, Robbie seemed to sit back and watch it.
Friends. The idea appealed. He was likeable and with just the four of them here, it seemed possible. It was not overwhelming for him to be seated at the table with them.
He picked up his wine glass.
She noticed how gently he held the delicate stem. Oddly it reminded her of the press of Albert’s fingers at her throat. She could not imagine Robbie’s hands hurting anyone.
She tried to imagine Albert at Robbie’s age. She could not.
Yet her thoughts compared their looks. Albert was a handsome man. Robbie was more than handsome, he was strikingly beautiful when his head turned in a certain way, or his smile caught at a particular angle. Mary, her mother, some of her aunts and sisters had a breathtaking beauty, he had their beauty but with a masculine edge. There were elements of his father as well as some of his mother; his father’s angled features and colouring, his mother’s large eyes and full lips.
He engaged in Drew and Mary’s conversation. He laughed. A deep, low sound, which, again, showed no sign of posturing. He was as genuine as Drew and Mary.
He glanced at her, as if he knew she was watching him, and smiled more broadly.
It might be easier than she thought to become his friend.
She smiled too, then looked at Mary and joined the conversation. She was not wholly comfortable, yet nor were her nerves screaming.
13
The day had been pleasurable, using Caroline’s half-hearted description of the women’s anticipated trip into town.
Rob enjoyed Drew’s company and he was impressed by the respect shown by his tenants. These people liked Drew, and sought his opinion on farming subjects that Rob doubted Drew could have discussed a couple of years ago. Of course, everyone they met had enthused over George too. George had lapped up the attention with his usual gusto.
But as Mary predicted, George became tired. He had been asking to go home for the last hour. Now he was fast asleep, stretched sideways across Drew’s saddle, one of his arms draped about Drew’s hip, with Drew’s forearm as his pillow, where he had been holding his father before he fell asleep. George’s other hand was at his mouth, his thumb hung at the corner of his lips where he was sucking on it before sleep claimed him.
George’s precarious position meant their return ride was restricted to the pace of a slow walk, and they were still about twenty minutes away from the house.
Hoof beats, at the pace of a canter, sounded behind them. Asingle horse, and the creak of a vehicle, hurrying along the mud track.
Rob tugged the reins, steering his animal to the edge, out of the vehicle’s path. Drew did the same. Rob looked over his shoulder. He recognised the pony pulling the trap, even though it was a distance away. It belonged to Drew. The vehicle was the one Drew bought for Mary, a two-seat, light-weight trap that she drove herself. Mary and Caroline sat side by side on the seat.
Mary was clothed in pink, with a wide-brimmed straw bonnet, while Caroline was wearing pale-lemon yellow, with an ivory shawl and parasol. The pair of them looked like a tableau from a ladies’ magazine.
‘It is Mary,’ Rob said to Drew. Drew was unable to twist around to look with George sprawled across his saddle. ‘You are in for it now, when she sees George.’
