Page 19 of Lady Controversial
‘Thank you. I am sure I will not.’
He shook his head as though about to disagree with her, but then thought better of it. ‘I will arrange for your gig to be repaired and returned to you.’
‘Just return it, sir, if you will be so kind. There is no need for you to repair it. I have already caused you enough trouble.’
‘Remember, send word if you hear anything from Brooke, or if you hit upon a reason for his invading my privacy.’
Isolda laughed. ‘Since you have hundreds of acres to lose yourself in, I fail to see how he can achieve that ambition. Even so, I take your point. Thank you for confirming my suspicions about the man and putting me on my guard.’
‘The pleasure was entirely mine, Miss Crawley.’
He swung athletically into the saddle—a very small saddle that the two of them had recently occupied, Isolda reminded herself, if any reminder was necessary. She felt hot all over when it occurred to her that she really ought to have protested. The fact that she hadn’t known what his intentions were and that her head had been spinning due to the accident was no excuse.
And yet she was glad that she had not seemed waspish by making a fuss.
As though reading her thoughts, the earl sent her a wicked little smile as he turned Legacy in the direction of his estate.
‘Good day to you,’ he said, raising one hand and then cantering away.
Isolda stood where she was, watching the dust kicked up by Legacy’s hooves until there was nothing left to see. Then, with a weary sigh, she turned towards the cottage, resigned to dealing with her sister’s inevitable temper tantrum engendered by the earl’s disinclination to be enthralled by her.
Chapter Six
Ellery rode home in a reflective frame of mind, slowing Legacy to a walk long before he reached his stable yard. He needed time to reflect upon his morning in general and Miss Crawley in particular, and he knew that the moment he showed his face at Finchdean Hall his time and thoughts would no longer be his own preserve.
Isolda Crawley had made a remarkable impression upon him without attempting to and certainly without being aware of it. She was strong-willed, brave, more attractive than she realised and in possession of steely determination that was as admirable as it was misplaced. Moreover, she’d had the sense to doubt Brooke’s credentials, which few if any ladies ever did. His skin crawled when he considered the very real possibility that Brooke had Isolda in his sights as opposed to her rather vapid sister and vowed to protect her from his unwanted advances, even if she hadn’t asked him to and didn’t require his help.
Or thought she didn’t.
Ellery knew how depraved Brooke could be, but the details of his excesses were not something he could have shared with Miss Crawley. Despite her maturity, she was still relatively young and unversed in the ways of the world. She couldn’t possibly have any idea of the appetites of men of Brooke’s ilk, even though he sensed that the subject had piqued her interest.
He chuckled as he recalled the minx’s lively and enquiring mind, to say nothing of her willingness to verbally spar with him rather than hanging on his every word and agreeing with whatever he said. Perhaps that was why he was so drawn to her. She was a breath of fresh air compared to the attentions of the simpering misses he was obliged to endure whenever he set foot within theton.The sort of females from within whose ranks his mother expected him to select a bride.
‘Ye gods!’ he muttered, throwing back his head as he wondered how much longer he could postpone the inevitable. His mother was losing patience and flung females in his path at every opportunity. Ellery was obliged to concede that she had a right to expect him to do his duty. Be that as it may, he was not willing to let her select his future countess.
His head groom ran to take Legacy’s reins as Ellery dismounted and explained about the broken gig. ‘Have it brought back here, Rogers. Arrange for it to be repaired and let me know as soon as it’s back in good working order. Give it priority. It belongs to a lady and is her only form of transport.’
‘Very good, my lord.’
Ellery strode into the house and was intercepted by his mother before he could reach the sanctity of his library.
‘Ah, there you are, Ellery.’ she stepped from behind her sitting room door, almost as though she’d had an early warning of his return and had been lying in wait for him. A scowl of disapproval marred her features. When did it not? he wondered. ‘You have been gone an age. I was on the point of sending out a search party.’
‘What on earth for?’
‘Well, because you were needed here, of course.’
Ellery inhaled and adjured himself to have patience. If, as he half intended, he hoped to persuade his mother to invite the Misses Crawley to dine then he needed to remain on good terms with her.
Better than good, because as soon as she learned that the ladies were living in such squalid conditions she wouldn’t want anything to do with them, despite their entirely respectable background—if one discounted the fact that their father had put a bullet through his own skull. That was hardly the fault of the girls, of course, but Ellery was well aware that society would judge them because of it.
‘For what reason?’ he asked.
‘Oh honestly, Ellery. Sometimes I am convinced you don’t listen to a word I say, indeed I am.’
Since Ellery was unable to avoid his mother’s constant harping, there was no truth in her assertion, but he decided not to invite a debate on the subject by remarking upon the fact. A debate that he would never win and for which had no appetite anyway. ‘What did you say that I failed to comprehend?’ he asked, striving for patience.
Jemima appeared behind their mother, pulling a face that caused Ellery almost to lose his composure. ‘Miss Ingleton called with her mama,’ Jemima explained. ‘They stayed far longer than politeness dictated in the hope, I think, of your imminent return.’
