shook her head in wonder. ‘It is a shameful thing to admit to,’ she announced, not thinking twice about sharing her thoughts with him, ‘but I think the world will be a better place without the Marquis. If my sympathies rest with anyone, then it is with the possible perpetrator of the deed. What he must have suffered at Sywell’s hands to induce him to seek revenge and commit such an act one can only wonder at.’
‘Very true,’ the Dowager agreed, much struck by this. ‘And if he was indeed murdered, I doubt there will be any lack of suspects.’
‘I didn’t realise you were so well acquainted with him, Mama?’
‘We were slightly acquainted, Daniel,’ she corrected him. ‘We met on one or two occasions many years ago. Your maternal grandfather was not in favour of a closer association. Even in those days Sywell had a somewhat unsavoury reputation. He was undeniably a most disagreeable man, who went through life making enemies—far more, I dare say, than there will be mourners at his funeral to lament his passing.’
‘You may possibly be right,’ Daniel agreed, rising to his feet. ‘But I for one have no intention of fruitlessly trying to speculate on which of his numerous enemies might have been the perpetrator of the crime—if indeed a crime was committed, for that in itself has yet to be proved. I have a far more important matter taxing my poor brain at this present moment in time—namely, how to pacify Kendall for the ordeal ahead of him.
‘You may or may not be aware of it, ma’am,’ he continued, in response to the faintly bewildered glance his mother cast up at him as he passed her chair, ‘but my most loyal retainer, being a confirmed bachelor, retains one or two preconceived notions where the fair sex is concerned. He is not a total misogynist, for he has on the odd occasion been overheard to utter mild praise when observing some female equestrian displaying a modicum of skill. He is, however, old-fashioned enough to deplore the present vogue for ladies tooling their own carriages.’
‘Why not simply leave him here when you take Robina out?’ her ladyship enquired, at a loss to understand why her son was making such an issue of an easily resolved problem.
His expression was faintly mocking. ‘Because unlike you, Mama, who have proved to be possibly the most negligent chaperon on the face of the planet since we took up residence here in Brighton, I’m endeavouring to ensure that Robina’s hitherto spotless reputation does not become slightly tarnished in the eyes of this censorious world of ours by being observed leaving the town’s limits solely in my company.’
Although the explanation appeared to satisfy the Dowager, Robina was not quite so certain that she fully understood the reason behind his lordship’s resolve to observe the proprieties wherever possible. Whose reputation was he striving to protect—hers or his own? she couldn’t help asking herself. Was he doing everything within his power to ensure that she was not forced into a union with him? Or was he determined that he would not be obliged to offer her the protection of his name because of any gossip which might arise from their being observed together? And why was it, she wondered, had the latter possibility brought a return of that very uncomfortable hollow feeling deep inside?
By the time she had taken her place beside his lordship in the curricle later that morning, Robina had come very close to convincing herself that Daniel’s determination to have a third person present as much as possible whenever in her company was prompted by entirely unselfish motives. Yes, she had almost convinced herself, but not quite. She refused, however, to permit the remaining lingering little doubt to mar the pleasurable excitement she was experiencing at the prospect of being taught to handle such a fine pair of horses.
Having been expected to perform many tasks over the years under her mother’s watchful eye had certainly stood her in good stead for just such an occasion as this, Robina reflected, happily taking charge of the equipage as they reached the outskirts of the town and the open countryside lay before them beckoning invitingly. At some point in her young life she had acquired a dogged determination not to allow fear of failure or an expert’s critical opinion to prevent her from attempting something new. Consequently, she was able to concentrate fully on the task in hand, even though she had been forewarned that the small, stocky individual perched on the seat behind her was undoubtedly watching her every move, just waiting for the opportunity to give his opinion of ‘uppity’ females who thought themselves capable of handling the ribbons by giving vent to a loud snort at any foolish mistake she might make.
Thankfully no such derisive sound reached her ears. More satisfying still was the fact that only once, before she was requested to draw to a halt at a convenient spot in the lane where there was room enough for two carriages to pass quite comfortably, did her tutor feel the need to correct a slight error by placing his hand over hers, though why the fleeting and unexpected contact should have resulted in her heart momentarily beating a little faster she was at a complete loss to understand.
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