Page 10 of The Husband Gamble
Captain Hudson looked back over his shoulder to narrow his eyes at Hythe before returning his attention to the lady on the other side of him. Good. Let the good captain be on notice that he had competition for Miss Fernhill’s hand.
Serious competition, for Hythe did not discount the lure of his title. On the other hand, he had a feeling Miss Fernhill did not care about titles. Still, she had agreed to both of his suggestions about tomorrow, so she must have at least a modicum of interest, even if Hythe lacked the address of a certain bedamned dashing naval officer.
CHAPTERSEVEN
The rider, without stopping, stretched out his hand and Miss Amaryllis reached up and took it, put her foot on his in the stirrup, and was riding into the east transept before the elderly groom had picked up his dropped jaw.
[“The Abduction of Amaryllis Fernhill”, inCollected Tales from the Villages of England, by a Gentleman]
* * *
If the Earl of Hythe was not courting Rilla, he was making it quite impossible for anyone else to do so. He had sought her out two days in row, paying her such marked attention that Lord Joseph and Captain Hudson had both turned their sights to other ladies.
Some of the ladies had not taken his marked interest in Rilla as gracefully as those two gentlemen. Miss Turnbull, in particular, made every effort to take Rilla’s place. “Lord Hythe! I have saved you a seat.” “Lord Hythe, will you turn the pages for me as I play?” “Lord Hythe, I feel a little faint. Will you not offer me your arm?”
Lord Hythe proved himself to be a diplomat and a politician, turning each request politely aside by declaring that he was currently escorting Miss Fernhill, and offering one of the other gentlemen as a substitute. By the second day of his determined avoidance of the lady, her seething rage was barely contained, and her nasty remarks had become louder and more pointed.
Rilla did her best to avoid her, even to the extent of whisking herself behind the curtains of a bow window when she heard Miss Turnbull’s voice coming towards her along the otherwise deserted passage in the ladies’ bedroom wing.
“He would have to marry me then, Mother, wouldn’t he,” said Miss Turnbull, gleefully.
Mrs. Turnbull’s reply was little more than a mumble.
“I shall be very careful,” Miss Turnbull assured her. “I shall pick a moment when no one is in the gentlemen’s wing.”
Mrs. Turnbull said something, but the only clear words were: “risk” and “ruined”.
“He is a gentleman, Mother,” Miss Turnbull said, carelessly. “He is known for doing the correct thing. And it is worth the risk. He is the most eligible man at the house…”
Her voice trailed off as a door opened then closed. Rilla slipped out from behind the curtain and went downstairs. The man they spoke of must be Lord Hythe, who was clearly the most eligible man at the house party. Rilla would have to warn him! He was currently out riding in the rain with some of the other gentlemen, but surely there would be an opportunity this afternoon to have a private word?
* * *
With the Turnbull vixen in hot pursuit, Hythe had taken to making sure he had a witness wherever he went. Miss Fernhill, for preference. Otherwise, one of the other gentlemen, even when, as now, he was returning to his bedchamber to change out of the wet clothes he had worn riding that morning.
An overreaction, perhaps, since Pritchard would be waiting for him. However, Hythe would confirm the valet’s presence—and the absence of anyone else—before he allowed the amiable Lord Joseph to wander on his way.
“Give me a moment more of your time, Lord Joseph,” he said, as he unlocked the door, “and I shall fetch that volume of poetry I mentioned.”
He swung the door wide and stepped aside to let Lord Joseph go first, then had to pull up short when Lord Joseph stopped in his tracks. “Good Lord!”
Hythe recognised the shrill voice from the direction of his bed. “Lord Joseph. But isn’t this Lord Hythe’s bedroom?” Hythe looked around the marquis’s son. Miss Turnbull was just pulling his sheets up to cover her naked breasts.
Miss Turnbull’s eyes lit up and her shriek changed to a purr, accompanied by a coy look beneath her lashes. “Hythe, darling. Here you are at last.”
“Forget it, Miss Turnbull,” Hythe told her. “You have not compromised me, which is what you no doubt intended. Come, Lord Joseph, we will wait in the hall while Miss Turnbull dresses and leaves.”
Before the two men could step out of the room, another shriek sounded behind them. “My poor little girl! Lord Hythe, you monster, what have you done?”
This is all it needs. Mrs. Turnbull, accompanied by Lady Osbourne, filled the doorway.
Mrs. Turnbull’s eyes fell on the marquis’s son. “Lord Joseph, what are you doing here?”And the drama becomes a farce.
Lord Joseph examined his fingernails. “Apparently, I am bearing witness that Lord Hythe has not compromised your daughter. You must be delighted, Mrs. Turnbull, to know your daughter is still in the same state of innocence that was hers when she somehow managed to enter the locked bedroom of a gentleman who has been out riding all morning.”
Lord Joseph had been an inspired choice as company. Hythe’s usual hard-won address had abandoned him in his anger at the invasion of his privacy and the attempt to bully him into matrimony. ‘In the same state of innocence’, indeed!
“Maude,” Lady Osbourne said, “help your daughter get dressed, and take her to my private sitting room. Gentlemen, we shall leave them to it, if you please.”
