Page 58 of The Enigmatic Governess of Buford Manor
Nicholas choked slightly at the whiskey as it seeped down his throat and into his belly, temporarily warming his frozen frame.
“Shall we head back toward Rosecliff?” Nicholas suggested, turning his head to peer into the sky. Indeed, it had begun to storm quite a bit more since the morning. Yet despite the ominous wind, Duke Buford had insisted they hunt that day. He had tried to warn his father before they had embarked on their day.
“Father, a storm is brewing,” Nicholas commented, pulling the heavy drapes aside to peer toward the woods. “Perhaps we should forsake today’s hunt.”
“Is my lord afraid of a bit of snow?” Captain Balfour asked from his spot at the breakfast table, a small smirk forming on his lips as he stared at Nicholas challengingly. “I daresay, I am surprised.”
“I am hardly afraid of snow, Captain,” Nicholas replied, trying to keep the irritation from his voice. “I am merely observing that a storm appears to be in the making and it does not seem wise – “
“I suppose I am accustomed to more challenges than Lord Buford. Having been to war, I have a much better tolerance for a wee bit of snow,” Captain Balfour interrupted and Nicholas’ eyes widened at being cut short on his thought. Moreover, the insult was blatant and condescending.
The incredible nerve of the man! And before my father, no less!
Nicholas glanced at the duke and while his father made no comment, the younger Frampton knew that his father was keenly aware of what was happening.
He is watching to see how I respond.
The marquess wondered if his father had not arranged for the captain to deliberately behave crassly as some ploy to gage his reaction.
“Forgive me for interjecting, Captain,” Nicholas said, leaning forward, his green eyes glittering. “But you must admit, if you were given an option, you would not have braved the weather, particularly for sport.”
The men stared at one another, a silent clash of wills.
“We will see how the weather fares,” Duke Buford announced, settling the debate for the time. “Should it grow worse, we will return for drinks and hombre.”
The men murmured their consensus and finished their breakfast, grouping off into their parties.
“My ballocks are freezing clean off!” Lord Hastings groaned and William nodded in agreement.
“I daresay, the good duke is behaving rather peculiarly this go, is he not?” the barrister declared, shaking his soaked mass of hair. “Despite his bravado, he would never opt to hunt in such treacherous weather, especially not when good port and cards wait in the parlor.”
“Is he acting peculiar?” Nicholas asked, his eyebrows rising slightly at the comment.
“Perhaps he has been dipping into Cromely’s colony ale,” Hastings laughed. “Indeed, that will wither the old mind, will it not?”
“Speak for yourself, Lord Hastings,” William chuckled. “I have supped much of it and I haven’t any issues.”
“How else has my father acted strangely?” Nicholas asked, half-hearing their banter. “Has he given you cause for concern?”
“The duke?” Lord Hastings asked, chuckling. “No, Buford. He is as sound as they come albeit I have no idea what he was imagining coming out here today. Any animal worth bagging is burrowed out of harm’s way by now. Let us return to Rosecliff.”
Cromely and Lord Hastings turned, stomping their snow-covered boots as they moved, and Nicholas paused for a long moment, watching them. His mind was elsewhere although he could not explain definitively what it was that troubled him.
Was his father acting strangely or was he merely looking for meaning behind the exchanges between himself and Captain Balfour? It seemed unlikely that under normal circumstances, anyone would feel comfortable enough to speak so brashly toward him in front of the duke and yet Captain Balfour did not hesitate.
It is just as you thought; father is putting you through an examination of sorts, seeing how you handle brutish behavior. You deigned for more understanding of what happens, truly occurs in parliament. Now you will know for certain if you pass his study. You must not permit Captain Balfour to rattle your nerves.
“Buford! Are you coming, or have you become a block of ice in your place?” Cromely yelled from a distance. “I am unsure I have the dexterity to dig you out without having feeling in my fingers.”
Nicholas waved, wondering if the barrister could see him through the now-driving snow. Warmth and scotch awaited him just beyond the treeline. He needn’t waste his time concerning himself with the snarky mentions of Daniel Balfour.
* * *
The afternoon progressed swimmingly, the heat of the fire quickly alleviating the cold from the toes and fingers of the men who had returned. Although Nicholas and his party were the first to return, the others arrived in the salon in due time and the weather grew into a fantastical blizzard out of doors.
As Trudy served the men drinks and offered them nibbles as they slowly filtered in from the cold until everyone had returned from the hunt but for the duke’s group.
“Those men are as stubborn as mules,” Duke Sommersail snorted, glancing at his son. “Did you encounter them in the woods?”
