found it oddly charming. ‘I might agree with you on the countryside, but the house could never be called beautiful. You flatter us, I think.’
‘I never flatter, Miss Lacey.’
‘I cannot imagine that is so, or else how could you have made so many conquests?’
He did not feel sorry for her at all, he decided. She was abominable.
‘Whatever you may have heard will be an exaggeration. And I thought we had agreed that gossip should be ignored.’
She let go of his arm and smoothed out her skirts of patterned muslin. She was looking as fetching as she had this morning, he noticed, a rich blue ribbon threaded through blonde curls and a blue velvet tippet around her shoulders. Yesterday’s hideous rags had seemingly been consigned to the bonfire.
‘You agreed. In any case I am not interested in gossip, but I do value the truth. I am wondering why it is now that you have decided to visit us, Lord Frensham, for your sisters must have told you that silly story about our families quite some while ago.’
‘I believe I mentioned that I was driving to Hampshire.’
‘On the way to a country-house party, yes, but I imagine you must attend many such gatherings not a million miles from Sussex. So why come to us now?’
He smothered a sigh; she was far too perceptive. ‘Strictly in the interests of truth, I admit that this journey was convenient. Life in London was proving a trifle difficult.’
‘Life—or was it a woman?’
The conversation was becoming more indecorous by the minute, he thought, but he still found himself answering, ‘Yes. A lady.’
‘A woman,’ she said firmly. ‘What happened?’
‘Her husband happened.’ If he were to speak honestly, she might as well know the worst. There was a strange sense of satisfaction in for once talking candidly to a female, but he waited in some trepidation for her next question.
‘Do you often have to deal with irate husbands?’
‘No, I do not! I may have allowed myself to be pulled in a little too far this time and … Why am I telling you this?’
‘You are telling me because we have decided on the truth.’ She pointed to the short scar on his left cheek. ‘Did you get that from a similar “happening”?’
‘I was foolish enough to walk down an unlit Venetian alley some years ago—I owe it to footpads, not a furious spouse!’
‘Then you escaped lightly. It must have been a most dangerous situation.’
‘It was—particularly for them. Though I believe the canal was not overly deep and preferable, I imagine, to my sword.’
‘And is it a duel that you have just fought—I mean, with the angry husband?’
‘You are far too inquisitive, not to mention brazen.’
‘It is only right that I should know the kind of suitor my uncle has been so eager to propose! He had been worrying over your moral suitability until your sisters put his mind at rest. Now if he had been privy to this conversation …’
‘I cannot pretend to be proud of the life I’ve led. But neither do I feel undue guilt. There are ladies,’ he said carefully, ‘certain ladies, who need little flattery or persuasion to extend their hand in friendship.’
‘I am not so innocent that I do not know something of the world. I believe they are what Rupert calls lady-birds.’
He supposed he should look shocked, but he wanted to laugh. ‘Rupert may call them so, but you should not.’
‘What should I call them, then?’
‘You should not know about them.’
‘That is ridiculous.’
He had to agree, but thought it wise to steer the conversation into safer channels. They had reached the small archway at one end of the terrace and strolled through into the rose garden. The central fountain had been shut down for the winter and there were gaps here and there where plants had died or bushes lost their leaves. The weather, though, was still mild for late October and a sprinkling of blooms added colour to the grey flint walls.
‘This must be a wonderful retreat in high summer—the sound of rushing water and the sweetness of so many flowers.’
She was looking surprised. Evidently gossip had not credited him with an appreciation of nature. She bent down to sniff at a last apricot bloom. ‘Do you grow roses on your estate? This is a Buff Beauty—it still smells divine.’
‘I have tried to create something similar at Beaufort Hall, but in comparison my rose garden lacks maturity even though the Somerset climate is temperate. And the manor house in Yorkshire will never match the exacting standards of the Towers, I fear. It is situated on a hill and exposed to every extreme element.’
‘Do you enjoy having so many properties?’
‘I’ve never really thought about it,’ he confessed.
‘I suppose that comes of being rich.’ It was clear that she set little store by this and the conversation limped to a close. He hoped they could talk more, for she was delightfully unusual. Though she had a face and a figure that seduced, she had a mind to match.
His hope was realised when they headed towards the cluster of hothouses which lay on the far side of the rose garden and she threw him a challenge. ‘I must pick flowers for the church today. Are you likely to be of any help?’
‘I doubt that flower picking is one of my better skills.’
‘What are, then?’
‘I can box.’
She could not prevent a giggle. ‘I cannot see flower arranging being the greatest use in the ring. But where do you box?’
‘At Jackson’s saloon in Bond Street.’
‘Rupert followed the gentleman’s career with great interest, although my uncle never allowed him to go to a prize fight. I know for a fact, though, that he sneaked away several times when the rumour of a likely meeting reached him.’
Her brother seemed a continuing presence, though as yet there had been no sign of him. ‘Was he permitted any sport?’ he asked curiously.
‘He wanted to learn to fence, but our grandparents thought it dangerous. Do you?’
‘Do I fence? Yes, frequently—at Angelo’s. One never knows when skill with the sword will come in useful,’ he added wickedly, and then, seeing her reproving expression, hurried on, ‘I compete in curricle races, too, and that is one of the roughest of sports!’
‘Then flowers will make an agreeable change.’
The succession houses were everything that the mansion was not—freshly painted, brightly lit and warm. Inside swathes of pelargoniums, fuchsias and heliotrope filled the space with such exotic colour that he blinked, but it was their overwhelming perfume that caught him in its grasp and played on his senses. He was filled with a mad desire to press Lucinda to him and dance with her around the flower-filled space.
His companion was not so easily distracted. ‘We must pick quickly before Latimer discovers us. He is the head gardener and considers everything he grows to be his and his alone.’
He tried to do as she asked, but her nimble fingers had filled two trugs to the brim before he’d managed to gather even a puny handful of chrysanthemums. ‘Do we drive them to the church or does the coachman also have a proprietorial attitude?’
She looked at him, astonished. ‘I would not call out the coachman to take a few handfuls of flowers little more than a mile. You are spoilt, my lord.’
‘EvidentIy,’ he murmured, picking up the heaviest basket. ‘Show me the way, Miss