Page 34 of The Defiant Governess
“Of course you are more than welcome to join us, milord, if you don’t think you would be too bored.” Her mood suddenly felt even lighter. “Cook has prepared more than enough food.”
“Oh please, sir!” added Peter, who seemed unwilling to unwind his arms from around Saybrook’s neck until he got a satisfactory answer. In consequence, the marquess’s collar was twisted and the top few buttons of his shirt had been pulled undone.
“If you leave off strangling me, brat, I shall finish my business here and join you on the way. Hero could use a rousing gallop.”
“Hooray!” cried the boy as he slid to the ground, half pulling Saybrook’s shirt from his breeches.
Jane couldn’t help chuckling. “Let us be off, Peter, while His Lordship is still in one piece.”
Saybrook returned her grin and raised his eyes in mock apprehension. “Yes, I fear my valet will ring a peal over me, won’t he.”
A groom brought out the horses and Saybrook helped Jane to mount, then handed her the basket.
“I hope Peter has not ruined your day,” she said in a low voice. “If you are too busy …”
“On the contrary, Miss Langley.” His eyes were pooled with an expression she couldn’t fathom. “I look forward to a most pleasant day.” He glanced at the fast disappearing figure of Peter and his pony. “You had best be off, too, before he lands in some mischief.
As Jane urged her horse forward, she couldn’t help but wonder why it was that her stomach suddenly was feeling all aflutter.
The marquess was as good as his word. Well before they reached the Abbey the sound of galloping hooves announced the arrival of Hero and his master. As Saybrook reined the big stallion into an easy walk, Jane noticed that he, too, was carrying a basket. Surely Cook could not have sent more food! Her questioning glance went from it to Saybrook’s face, but aside from a smug smile, he ignored her look and began to chat blandly about the weather and the prospects of the coming harvest.
Peter was less patient. After several minutes he could no longer contain his curiosity.
“What have you got in your basket, Uncle Edward?”
“You shall see later.”
“But I want to knownow.”
“Patience, lad.”
The boy was silent for a bit. Then he spoke up again. “I’ll wager that Miss Jane could make you tell me,” he challenged.
“Miss Jane could do no such thing,” answered Saybrook coolly. He turned a challenging gaze towards her.
He had never spoken her name before, and to Jane’s surprise, her stomach gave an odd little lurch. For some reason she found it impossible to meet his look.
“Peter,” she admonished, in order to hide her confusion. “You mustn’t be impertinent.”
“And just why do you think Miss Jane could make me tell you?” Saybrook asked the boy. Though his face was serious, the twinkle in his eyes gave hint that he was enjoying himself immensely. “I’m quite curious.”
The boy thought for a moment. “Miss Jane has a way of looking at you that makes you feel that you have to do what she says without any argument,” he said. “And I heard Cook say exactly the same thing to Mrs. Fairchild. “
Another pause. “And Mrs. Fairchild agreed that when any difficulty that arose, it seemed that one had only to apply to Miss Jane and she would settle it—because no one dared argue with her. Then she said ...” Peter ‘s face scrunched in confusion. “I think she said there was an air about Miss Jane, as if she was to the manor born—but what air can be around Miss Jane that isn’t around us?”
“Peter!” exclaimed Jane.
“How odd,” remarked Saybrook dryly. “I was under the impression thatIhad something to do with running Highwood. What a relief to know it is in good hands.”
“Milord,” stammered Jane. “I don’t know where he picks up such things …. He must have misunderstood something he overheard. I-It is nonsense ….”
She stopped, utterly at a loss for words. Her face was flaming and her eyes went to Saybrook in mute appeal. “Please, this is a silly conversation—let us forget it.”
“Ah, the look!” drawled Saybrook, trying to suppress his mirth. “I see that I dare not disobey such a command.”
“Milord, you are making sport of me.”
The marquess gave a shout of laughter as he spurred Hero into a canter. “Peter,” he called. “There is the Abbey up ahead. Shall we race there?”
