Captain Langthorne's Proposal. Elizabeth Beacon
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‘Not even if I consumed a whole bottle of Mrs Burgess’s wine. You’re a former soldier, and used to alarms and night watches. It’s probably your job to satisfy the curiosity of your neighbours while we sleep safely.’
‘I hope I know better than to go looking for trouble, but I’m also a churchwarden, and duty must outweigh caution.’
‘Good luck, then, Sir Adam,’ she managed to say, cheerfully enough, and offered him her hand in farewell as she opened the Partridges’ front gate.
He bowed over it like a beau from a previous age, and kissed it lightly instead of shaking it. Fire shot through her, as if he had touched his lips to bare flesh instead of her supple leather glove. She snatched her hand back and looked about her. Luckily the men were at work and the women busy cooking. This time she had been lucky, but she must avoid him in future.
‘Thomas will meet me here with the gig,’ she lied brightly.
‘He must have learnt the dark art of being in two places at the same time, then. When I met him not half an hour ago he was on his way to Hereford. Either he’s a top sawyer and that old grey nag a phenomenon, or you’re guilty of shameless untruth, my lady.’
‘It’s not at all the thing for a gentleman to argue with a lady,’ she said hotly, squirming at being caught out under his amused gaze.
‘Dear me, what a hard furrow such paragons choose to plough.’
‘How would you know?’ she muttered under her breath, but his sharp ears caught her words and he gave her an unrepentant grin.
‘I wouldn’t, of course. But I’ll meet you here after I’ve seen the smith. Shall we say half an hour, my lady?’
‘You can say what you like, Sir Adam,’ she replied with a shrug she hoped looked as pettish as she felt. ‘I’ll go my own way.’
‘I can’t tell you how glad I am about the first part of that statement. Half an hour and no longer,’ he ordered, and turned away, as certain of being obeyed as if she were a subaltern under his command.
She’d see about that, she decided militantly, tapping at the front door.
‘Lady Serena—how lovely,’ her once properly reserved ladies’ maid exclaimed. ‘Come on in off the street, do,’ she ordered as they embraced with a lack of reserve Serena’s sister-in-law would have found profoundly distasteful between one-time maid and mistress.
How that neat, coolly efficient maid had once intimidated her, Serena recalled ruefully. Yet since coming to Windham as the new Lady Summerton she and her personal maid had become firm friends. Indeed, Janet knew a great deal about her that Serena had trusted in nobody else. Over the last five years the aloof little Londoner had blossomed, and become as staunch a convert to country life as you could find anywhere—especially since succumbing to Zachary Partridge’s heartfelt pleas to become his wife.
‘Marriage suits you, Janet,’ she told her.
‘Ruined my figure, but I dare say Partridge’ll not stray far.’
‘He can’t take his eyes off you long enough to look elsewhere, and well you know it.’
‘I’d never have married him otherwise, Lady Serena,’ Janet said, and sent her a speculative look. ‘Time you found yourself a good man who loves you, Lady Serena. It’s two years since himself died, and not even the Countess Almighty could object.’
‘I like my independence too well to give it up.’
‘Independence? Those other two countesses don’t let you rest from sunrise to sunset—and I never took you for a coward, my lady,’ Janet told her sternly.
Serena wondered why her words never seemed to carry weight. ‘I’m not made for domesticity, and prefer to stay as I am.’
‘I did say you must find a good man this time,’ Janet chided, more gently, and Serena knew they could stand here arguing all day and never agree. Janet was like a dog at a bone when she was trying to organise the life of one of the select band of people she truly loved.
‘Well, your Zach might live under the cat’s paw nowadays, but I cunningly escaped you when you married him, and fully intend to follow my own path from now on,’ she teased, and a militant light came into her old friend’s eyes.
‘Cat’s paw, my foot,’ Janet snorted. ‘Sir Adam Langthorne is a fine man,’ she continued, as if she had not heard a single word Serena said.
‘Yes? And what has that to do with the price of fish?’
‘He’ll make some lucky lady a fine husband.’
‘I’m sure he will, but he certainly won’t be mine.’
‘Strong men don’t have anything to prove, so he’ll treat his lady like a queen, I’m thinking.’
‘I dare say. I’ll dance at his wedding when it comes.’
‘Happen you’ll do it with a heavy heart, then,’ Janet insisted.
‘Nonsense. I’ll wish him very happy.’
‘Aye, and so will I—supposing he weds the right lady,’ Janet agreed, with a significant look at her former mistress.
‘Today, however, I wish him at Jericho. So, unless you have any other plans for the rest of my life to discuss, I’ll take myself off and be in good time for my dinner for once.’
‘Sir Adam has the look of a very determined gentleman,’ Janet observed with some satisfaction.
‘And I’m an equally determined lady,’ Serena declared firmly, hoping that was the last she would hear of the subject. Sir Adam had taken up too much of her day already, and she didn’t care to grant him any more of it.
‘There now—even you admit how well matched you are, Lady Serena. Fate. That’s what it is.’
‘It’s wishful thinking, and next time I come I hope you’re thinking straighter.’
Janet put her head on one side, as if to deliberate better—a sign that a pearl of wisdom was about to fall. ‘With respect, my lady, it’s your thoughts that have got out of the way of running true, and we both know why.’
‘Maybe, but luckily I’m in too much haste to stay and argue with you today, Janet. So, if there is nothing else you want to lecture me about, we can have a really good dispute about it another day.’
Giving her tenacious ex-maid a quick peck on the cheek, Serena hurried out of the neat house on the village green before Janet could regroup. Only twenty minutes had gone by, so she could set out for Windham with impunity. She had never asked Sir Adam to treat her as if she were a young miss just out of the schoolroom,