Page 12 of The Husband Gamble
“Should there be?” she asked. “I would not wish anyone to be forced into marriage with someone unsuitable.”
The smug look vanished. “Baron Hargreaves,” he said. “I heard. For what it is worth, I think you did the right thing. Not that I know what you did. But Baron Hargreaves? What was your uncle thinking?”
“He was thinking that the baron would pay him the value of my dowry.” Rilla growled. “The baron only wanted a brood mare, and he had run out of other options. No one would marry him from choice, and nor would any parent who cared about their daughter agree to such a match.”
Hythe nodded. “Especially after the death of his third wife,” he agreed. “You should get a medal.”
That was a surprise. No one had ever suggested that Rilla was justified in running away from her unwanted marriage. Even Cousin Felicia, who said she understood, still accepted that Rilla was ruined as a result.
“Thank you,” Rilla said. “And thank you, too, Lord Hythe, for being so nice to me during this last week. I’ve enjoyed our times together.”
“Have you?” he asked. “Enough to come to Belvoir Close for two weeks in December?”
“Come to…?” Rilla stopped walking to look down the long gallery to where Cousin Felicia was chatting with the footman. She looked back up at Hythe. Was she awake? Or was this a dream?
“I should like you to meet my sisters and their families, and to show you my family home,” he said.
Rilla frowned. “Lord Hythe, are you courting me?”
He grimaced. “Obviously not very well, if you have to ask. What did you think I was doing?”
She replied instantly. “Spending time with a friend while avoiding marriage-minded females and their chaperones.”
He nodded. “That, too, but it would have been the act of a cad to pay you special attention if I did not wish to explore whether we might have a future together. You had no idea?”
“What of my reputation, Lord Hythe?” she asked.
Hythe bowed his head to look at his boots. “I think I have come to know you a little over the past week, Miss Fernhill.” He met her gaze, his own intent. “I find it hard to believe you have done anything that would give me cause to change my mind about seeking your hand.”
Rilla was touched, but thought he might be overstating the case. Would he really want to marry her when he knew the truth? There was only one way to find out.
Hythe spoke before she could. “Will you come to Belvoir Close?” he asked.
Rilla made up her mind. “I believe I must tell you the whole of my story before I do, Lord Hythe. You can then withdraw your invitation, if you so wish, without inconveniencing yourself or embarrassing your sisters.”
At that moment, half a dozen of the other guests entered the gallery, and began walking towards Rilla and Lord Hythe.
“We shall find a way to talk in private,” Hythe promised. “I must admit it will ease my mind to know what we have to work with when it comes to guiding public opinion.”
“Guiding public opinion?” she asked, the word “we” warming her heart.
But the others were upon them, and their private conversation was over.
CHAPTEREIGHT
Some say the bridegroom stood there, frozen. Some that he tried to drag her down from the horse and was shouldered aside by the following riders. However it might have been, the eastern doors opened as mysteriously as the west, and closed behind the riders with a loud bang, and open they would not, not for all the trying in the world.
[“The Abduction of Amaryllis Fernhill”, inCollected Tales from the Villages of England, by a Gentleman]
* * *
Miss Turnbull and her mother were conspicuous by their absence throughout the afternoon. After her conversation with Hythe, Rilla wondered if they had left the house party early, but Lady Osbourne gave no explanation.
It was the last afternoon, and something of a frantic mood had descended on the house party, as if the guests sought to pour another week’s worth of activities into the remaining hours. Lord Hythe invited Rilla to play chess. The library was full of other people, and they had no chance for private conversation.
She suggested a stroll in the conservatory, thinking the chill might keep others away, but three other couples clearly had the same idea.
Lord Hythe noted that the sun had come out and asked her for a walk on the terrace. Mr. Smythe overheard and announced it to the room, and half the ladies in the place hurried upstairs to collect their coats, shawls and bonnets.
