Page 29 of A Sense of Misgiving
Romulus barked once, suddenly full of life. He loped along beside Onyx, occasionally running off barking some more as he lumbered after squirrels he didn’t have a hope of catching, before returning to Luke with his tongue lolling from the side of his mouth. Luke laughed at his antics as he and Parkin checked on the progress of the harvest, discussed the possibility of rain intervening before it was completed and then examined the cattle, deciding upon the number ready to be sent to market.
Parkin acknowledged his orders and rode back to the estate office to carry them out. But Luke sensed Onyx’s need to stretch his legs and used it as an excuse to delay his own return. He turned the stallion in the direction of his favourite gallop across the lower pastures and gave him his head. The powerful horse ate up the ground with a long stride, putting in the occasion buck because he couldn’t seem to help himself. Luke understood his desire to retain his independence and simply let him run until he tired, slowing to a canter then a sedate trot, at which point a panting Romulus caught up with them.
‘Better?’ he asked, patting the horse’s neck beneath his long mane.
Luke guided Onyx in the direction of the reservoir, one of his favourite locations and a place where he had once come upon Flora enjoying the view. He dismounted and sat on the same mound that they had shared, looking out over the expanse of water rippled by a light breeze, enjoying the serenity. He recalled how Flora had been dangling her bare feet in the water on that occasion but had seen no reason to cover her ankles just because he had intruded upon her. He grinned, thinking it typical of her rebellious nature that she took in her stride a situation that most unmarried females would find scandalous.
Hatless and in shirtsleeves, he leaned back on his braced arms, seeking an inner peace that evaded him. Romulus, now tired, flopped down beside him and rested his big head on Luke’s thigh. His responsibilities hung heavily on his shoulders. Responsibilities that included selecting a wife and procreating. He could not defer that duty indefinitely, but the task held little appeal. There was nothing to say that one of his brothers shouldn’t produce the next heir. Charlie was already married. Presumably Miranda would imminently announce her pregnancy.
‘You’re being cowardly,’ he said aloud.
Perhaps that was true, but he would not be the first aristocrat who had eschewed the questionable pleasures of marriage.
His ruminations were disturbed when Romulus lifted his head and let out a deep bark, alerting Luke to the sound of an approaching carriage. He frowned, not wanting his solitude invaded. The reservoir was not on his land and the track leading to it was a public thoroughfare, but not many people used it unless their specific destination was the reservoir itself. It wasn’t a short cut to anywhere and the weather wasn’t fine enough to entice bathers to the spot at that time of year.
‘Who is it, boy?’
Luke stood, in no mood to socialise, but before he could remount Onyx the approaching carriage slowed to a halt.
‘Luke,’ said the female seated beside the driver. ‘What a pleasant surprise.’
‘Mrs Arnold?’ Luke groaned inwardly as he peered up at a pretty face that he had not seen for some years. ‘What brings you all the way out here?’
‘What sort of greeting is that after such a long parting?’ She gave a trill little laugh that sounded contrived and went straight through Luke. Romulus barked at her again and trotted up to the carriage, expecting to have a fuss made of him. Lucy Arnold shied away from the dog, clearly frightened by his size. Or perhaps she simply didn’t like dogs. Luke didn’t bother to tell her that Romulus was incapable of hurting anyone and was terrified of his grandmother’s cat. ‘Where are my manners? This is my brother, Captain Redfern. The last time you saw Fergus he would have been a small boy, so you can be forgiven for not recognising him. Fergus, may I present Luke Beranger, the Earl of Swindon.’
‘Your servant, m’lord. Please excuse my not getting down. Gammy leg, you understand. Injured in the line of duty.’
‘Please, there is no need.’
Luke examined the man who had made such an impression upon his sister. The scar on his otherwise handsome face would, he supposed, seem romantic to an impressionable young girl. Ithadbeen incurred in the defence of his country’s interests, Luke conceded, attempting to be fair. Not one accustomed to making hasty judgements, he had already taken the man in dislike. There was something about him that simply didn’t jibe. That and the fact that Mrs Arnold’s abode was twenty miles away and they had absolutely no reason to be on this out of the way track.
‘I wanted to remind Fergus of the place where you boys all used to swim when we were younger. Do you remember those days, Luke?’
Luke forced himself to smile. ‘I was not aware that you girls spied on us.’
‘Of course we did. We failed to see why the boys should have all the fun.’
An awkward silence ensued. Luke presumed that Lucy awaited an invitation to return to the house, but Luke had no intention of issuing it.
‘You must excuse me,’ he said, swinging into Onyx’s saddle and whistling to Romulus. ‘I have already neglected my duties for too long.’
‘Oh. Well, of course, we shall see you tomorrow at Mary’s party. Indeed, we look forward to it.’
‘Your husband will not be joining us?’
‘Sadly not. He is in France and likely to remain there for some weeks.’ This statement was delivered with a significant look. ‘You will have to make do with me, I’m afraid.’
‘I’m sure Mary won’t mind,’ Luke replied, deliberately misinterpreting her meaning. ‘Good day to you, Mrs Arnold. Redfern.’ He saluted them with his riding crop, then turned Onyx and cantered away, with Romulus loping alongside him.
‘What was that all about?’ he asked Romulus.
His dog offered him no answer.
Feeling disgruntled, he surrendered Onyx into the hands of his groom and returned to his library. The ride, and Mrs Arnold’s unwanted intrusion on his solitude, had done little to calm him, and he was still unable to concentrate. He hadn’t been there above half an hour before his brother Sam joined him. And what he had to tell Luke only added to his bad mood.
*
Mary gave up on her painting and threw her brush aside with a frustrated sigh. She simply couldn’t get it right. Perhaps she should have gone into the village with Flora after all. She was achieving nothing here. The problem was that painting was a solitary occupation, and left her with too much time to think. That had not been the case when Emma had been at home. Although her sister didn’t paint, she shared the same sitting room as Mary. She was constantly there, full of chatter, confiding in Mary and preventing her from feeling lonely. That was at the root of her dissatisfaction, she realised.
