Page 9 of The Husband Gamble
She voiced her thought. “How sad.”
Lord Hythe shrugged. “It was a choice,” he said. “I love my work, Miss Fernhill. I am good at it and it makes a difference.”
They reached a flight of steps that would take them up a steep slope onto the hill path. Most of the rest of the party were well ahead, for Lord Hythe had set a slow pace. Even the footman had passed them.
“That is good, then.” Rilla said, wondering if he had deliberately delayed them.
“My country estate is my retreat,” he confided. “I spend a few weeks there several times a year, though last time was not the same.”
A note in his voice had her searching his expression, but it gave away nothing of his thoughts. Was it sorrow? Impatience? Irritation, perhaps?
“What about you, Miss Fernhill?” he asked. “Do you prefer the country?”
“I have little with which to compare it, my lord,” Rilla confided. She might as well be honest with the man. “My first Season in London when I was seventeen was not a success, which undoubtedly coloured my thinking. Apart from that and a few months this year, I have lived all my life in the country.”
“Lady Barker lives near York,” he commented.
“Near, not in,” she said. “She and I did make several trips to York when I was preparing for my Season, but I cannot say I know the town well.”
Lord Hythe was not going to let the topic go, clearly. “Did you find London as disappointing this time?”
Rilla’s first instinct was to say she did. Her ruined reputation had come before her and made ton events an ordeal rather than a pleasure. But there was also much about London that she liked. “I found the theatre, the museums, and many other things about London very enjoyable.”
A couple of drops of rain fell, but before they could react, the footman coming running back down the path to give them an umbrella. “Back to the house or on up the hill,” Lord Hythe asked, once he had put it up.
The footman was hurrying back up the hill, presumably to make sure that everyone else was dry, but the rain was barely a drizzle, and certainly not sufficient to drive Rilla back inside.
“Onward and upward,” she proclaimed.
Lord Hythe smiled. “Good choice.”
“What made your latest stay in the country less satisfactory, my lord?” Rilla asked. She watched a frown crease his brow. “If it is not an impertinent question.”
“Not impertinent,” he assured her, his frown clearing. “Indeed, it is very pertinent. Mine is not a large family, Miss Fernhill, but I have two sisters whom I love dearly. My younger sister has been my chatelaine and my hostess since my older sister married. Now that Felicity has wed, I felt lonely in the country.”
“And so, you decided to find a wife,” she said, her mouth running ahead of her wits. “I do apologise, Lord Hythe. I should not have spoken that thought out loud.”
He chuckled. “Your conclusion is correct, or at least partly correct. I need a wife for many reasons, not least for companionship. I decided that the time had come.”
They reached the lookout, and their tête-à-tête had to give way to a more general group conversation, but Lord Hythe’s willingness to talk about his sisters and his wife hunt had given Rilla much to think about. Could Lord Hythe possibly be courting her?
* * *
Hythe thought Miss Fernhill might return to the question of his search for a wife as they continued their walk over the crest of the hill and down the other side. Tucked under the umbrella together, they could not have been more private.
Instead, they talked about the slave trade. Miss Fernhill thought it was not enough to stop the sale of human beings, but that slavery itself should be outlawed in all British territories. Hythe agreed with her, but they disagreed about how that happy state could be achieved.
“Politics is the art of the possible, Miss Fernhill,” he told her.
“Unless we start with the ideal, Lord Hythe,” she retorted, “how will we ever discover what is possible?”
Back at the house, they separated to change and then met again to play chess in the library, one of several couples quietly pursuing a better acquaintance over a game board or a pack of cards. Miss Fernhill proved to be a worthy opponent, checkmating him after an intensive tussle.
After that, Hythe had to surrender her to Captain Hudson, who must have persuaded Lady Osbourne to give him a chance with the lady. Hythe made sure to remedy his oversight by asking his hostess to partner him with Miss Fernhill for dinner for the remainder of the week.
Either Lady Osbourne had already made up her mind to help him or she took pity on him, for he found himself next to Miss Fernhill when he took his seat. For the first remove, good manners required him to pay attention to the young lady he had escorted to the table.
Then came the second remove. “Miss Fernhill,” he said, turning to her. “May I interest you in another walk tomorrow morning? I believe the circuit around the lake is very nice. And perhaps chess again in the afternoon?”
