CHAPTER NINE

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                                  CHAPTER NINE

Eleanor had not expected the dinner conversation to be at all diverting, having already learned that the Archbishop was no conversationalist, being addicted to biblical and Latin quotes of considerable length. Lord Birkett had no other topic than the lamentable reluctance of his tenants to pay their rents.

    She was therefore pleased when Major Warburton showed the he meant to include her in the animated conversation at the other end of the table.

    ‘My sister tells me that you are to be chaperone to my nieces, Miss Wellesley, but I swear you are too handsome for that chore.’

    Eleanor glanced across at him, her blue eyes flashing, convinced that he was laughing at her. His sister had probably also enlightened him on the disastrous and distressing weeks with Lady Constance.

    ‘And I swear it would be immodest of me to reply to your observation, sir,’ Eleanor said with a touch of asperity.

    His smile faded at her tone. ‘I assure you, Miss Wellesley, I meant no offence. In my experience chaperones are elderly ladies with little to recommend them.’

    ‘How are matters at Falsworth Grange, Warburton?’ Lord Birkett enquired, cutting across the exchange in his usual booming tones. ‘Upon my word, I believe I have the most whining scoundrels for tenants that any man could have.’

    The Major’s astute green gaze lingered on Eleanor before he made an answer. She lowered her glance, suddenly ashamed of her sharp tone.

    ‘Reports from Cornwall are excellent, he replied at last. ‘My estates are under the excellent management with my present bailiff, Mr Dutton. If there are problems with tenants he does not chafe me with them.’

    Eleanor fancied he spoke with careless assuredness, which stung her, and again, despite herself, she could not resist the challenge he presented.

    ‘And you have no inclination to enquire of your tenants’ welfare, Major Warburton,’ she exclaimed. Her heart still ached at what had befallen her father’s tenants. ‘Great harm may be done in the absence of the landowner, who has an obligation.’

    She hesitated, flushing as she realised all eyes were upon her. Major Warburton would probably consider that she was behaving in a very unladylike manner, especially in view of her position in the household.

    ‘My dear Eleanor,’ Lord Birkett boomed with a superior air. ‘How could you possibly understand anything in the way of tenants?’

    ‘I support Miss Wellesley,’ the Major announced surprisingly. ‘I was a guest of the Earl of Leicester at the Holkam Sheep Sheerings this year. He is making great strides forward in the breeding of fat cattle for Smithfield, and he believes in stimulating enterprise amongst his tenants by offering long leases on moderate terms.’

    ‘Coke’s Clippings!’ Lord Birkett sneered deprecatingly. ‘Coke is making nothing more than a business of it. Disgraceful!’

    ‘I was much impressed,’ Major Warburton persisted strongly. ‘So much so that I am resolved to follow his schemes at Falsworth.’

    Lady Susan gave a light laugh. ‘If you can tear yourself away from your London cronies, not to mention your light’o’love, Mrs V,’ she remarked teasingly. ‘I can’t see you burying yourself in Cornwall. You’ll die of loneliness.’

    Eleanor flicked a surprised glance at Major Warburton to gauge his reaction to his sister’s somewhat outrageous taunt. She felt a sudden and unaccountable falling of her spirits. So, there was a lady in the picture after all; a mysterious Mrs V.

    But the description of her being his light’o’love hardly seemed respectful or indeed respectable. While Major Warburton had not the appearance of a rake, though she was hazy in her mind as to how a rake should look, she was not unmindful of the fact that gentlemen often considered it quite proper to take a paramour.

    The keen disappointment she was beginning to feel in Major Warburton was increased on his reply to his sister’s jibe.

    ‘No man could be lonely in the company of Sophie Vallentine, I assure you.’

    ‘Fie, sir!’ Lord Birkett rebuked him sharply. ‘Guard your tongue. I would remind you that my daughters are present.’

    Eleanor lowered her gaze to her plate in embarrassment. She thought the rebuke most justified. What she considered loose talk in the Major was distasteful and ungentlemanly. She could make no allowance for the fact that it had been his sister who had brought up the subject.

    The Major seemed lamentably unaware of his error.

    ‘You misunderstand me, Birkett,’ he returned with calm assurance. ‘I shall return to Falsworth Grange a married man. You have persuaded me at last, Susan. I am determined to have a wife by next Easter.’

    He smiled at all around the table. Caught in the brilliance of that smile, Eleanor, while still considering him most reprehensible, felt a strange new emotion tug painfully at her heart at his revelation. The idea of an unknown lady clinging on the arm of Major Ambrose Warburton, claiming him for her husband, presented a most disturbing picture to her mind, and she wondered at herself.

Eleanor sat in the music room the following morning dutifully chaperoning Cecilie and Dorothea with their music master, Mr Scuttlebridge, a most unlikely heartbreaker.

    She usually read whilst the girls sang their sweet songs, but today she was unaccountably restless. Since Major Warburton had come to Willington House, the whole household seemed to be aquiver with expectation. She was quite certain that not only she felt it.

    Up at dawn, from her high window she had seen the Major and Lord Birkett take out horses for an early morning ride. Watching them canter across the frost-white lower meadow she wished with all her heart that she might accompany them. She had ridden every day at home, no matter what the weather and missed it very much.

    Eleanor sighed heavily, and the chided herself for wishing for too much. The life she had known at ChurnockPark was gone forever and she would regain some happiness only when she had completely come to terms with the fact. She had to be thankful that she was in a safe haven, if only temporarily.

    Mr Scuttlebridge was gently remonstrating with Cecilie for some minor fault in her interpretation of the music, when the door of the music room was thrust open and Major Warburton strode into the room, still in his riding clothes.

    With piercing screams of delight the girls deserted the piano to throw themselves at him. He held them together in a bear-like hug for a moment, until Cecilie wrinkled her nose and complained peevishly.

    ‘Uncle Ambrose, you smell of horse!’

    With a deep-chested laugh he let them go. ‘There’s no healthier smell, my dears.’

    Eleanor felt her heart give a little skip as she looked at his tall muscular frame and his long weather-tanned face. The warmth that exuded from him when he laughed and smiled was very pleasing to the feminine heart, Eleanor decided, and that could make him extremely dangerous to know.

    Many a young women, thus charmed, might be prepared to overlook a certain lack of principle in him, however, she could not.

    Major Warburton might appear to be the perfect gentleman, and indeed, he undoubtedly had good breeding, yet she could not dismiss from her mind the scandalous remarks he had made concerning a certain lady the evening before. It spoke somehow of lack of respect for her.

    ‘What do say you, Miss Wellesley?’ The Major directed the unexpected question at her, taking her completely by surprise.

    He strode swiftly across the room to where she sat on the window seat. For the first time she noticed the slight limp, though his long legs in buckskin breeches and top boots looked straight and stalwart enough.

    ‘What is your position on the matter of horses?’

    Eleanor arose instantly, unaware of the light that gleamed in her clear blue eyes as she gazed up at him. There was no reason why she should be boorish with him, she decided. His charm and attraction need hardly concern her.

    ‘I adore them, sir,’ she admitted with a bright smile. ‘I would live my life perched on a horse, if I could,’

    Ambrose roared a laugh in obvious delight. ‘Well said! You are a lady after my own heart, Miss Wellesley. You will ride with me each morning henceforth. I insist upon it.’

    Eleanor could not suppress a little gasp of joy, momentarily swept up in the excitement at the thought of cantering through the crisp morning mists of December with such an attractive and stimulating companion. Then she came down to earth with a jolt, remembering her place, and the fact that she had no suitable clothes for riding.

    ‘You are very kind Major, but it is impossible,’ she said quietly.

    ‘You refuse me the pleasure, Miss Wellesley?’

    He seemed more than a little surprised and Eleanor was somewhat annoyed at his lack of understanding of her position.

    ‘I do not believe that Lord Birkett would approve,’ she said. ‘And besides, I have no riding habit.’

    ‘No riding habit?’ repeated the Major with some energy. ‘But this oversight must be remedied at once.’

    At that moment Lady Susan entered the room.

    ‘Susan, what is this?’ Ambrose exclaimed. ‘Miss Wellesley has nothing to wear for riding.’

    Alarmed, Eleanor touched his arm, suddenly embarrassed. ‘I beg you, sir, do not make a fuss of it.’

    Lady Susan looked taken aback, but recovered quickly, her eyes snapping in pique. ‘Grand Sakes! What of it, Ambrose? Eleanor has no need to ride.’

    ‘I beg to differ,’ he said. ‘Apart from the matter of exercise necessary for her continued good health, pray what will you do in the event that my nieces should wish to ride out in the park with their suitors during the season? Shall they shock the whole of polite society in riding abroad without their chaperone?’

    ‘Mercy me!' Lady Susan exclaimed, lifting a hand to her plump throat in agitation. ‘I had not looked at it in that light. I should be quite crushed by the shame of it. Eleanor must be rigged out as soon as we are settled in Grosvenor Square. Lord Birkett will insist on it.’

    ‘That is not soon enough,’ her brother said imperiously. ‘I have engaged Miss Wellesley to ride each morning with me during my stay here. Am I to be deprived of this courtesy for the want of a habit?’

    Eleanor nervously watched the twinkle in his eyes, certain that he was teasing his sister. It was all very well for him to make a game of it, but she had no wish to be the cause of any embarrassment to her benefactors.

    Her own position was delicate enough as it was. Again she felt annoyance at him for his apparent lack of insight into her situation.

    ‘Ambrose! Ambrose!’ Lady Susan said cajolingly. ‘What a fuss you do make on such a small matter. Eleanor shall have the use of something of my own in the meantime.’

    The Major turned to Eleanor with a triumphant smile on his generous mouth. ‘It is settled. You see before you, Miss Wellesley, a man who will not be thwarted.’

    ‘So it appears, sir,’ she answered with a rather stiff smile. ‘But I shall take care in what I say to you in future.’

    ‘Ah! That is not the effect I wished for,’ he answered quickly. ‘I am determined to know your whole history, Miss Wellesley.’

    ‘That must wait, Ambrose,’ Lady Susan interposed quickly, saving Eleanor from further embarrassment. ‘Jeffrey has offered to escort the girls on their visit their dear friends, the Misses Pikes at Thrupton Manor where they are to take luncheon. Eleanor must accompany them.’


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