Читать книгу An Unlikely Debutante - Laura Martin - Страница 13

Chapter Four

The grass was wet beneath her feet as Lina crossed the field, hopping over a shallow ditch and scrambling up a bank before joining the road again. She had caught a ride on a farmer’s cart from Pottersdown to the village of Hilstone and from there a friendly shopkeeper had assured her it was no more than twenty minutes’ walk across the fields to Whitemore House. Lina had dallied, stopping to pluck some wildflowers to weave into her hair, resting on a tree stump and turning her face up to the sun and even pulling off her boots to dip her toes in the cool waters of a gurgling stream. The twenty-minute walk had turned into an expedition that lasted more than an hour, but now Lina knew she could delay no longer.

She wasn’t sure why she was quite so nervous. This was what she had been waiting for: an opportunity to change her life, to do something different, be somewhere different, at least for a short time. For every one of her twenty years she had lived and worked amongst her gypsy family, travelling through England, performing at fairs in the summer and doing whatever work she could find in the long winter months. For a while she had been restless, unsure what was bothering her, torn between a desire to actually belong somewhere and a carefree and adventurous spirit that wanted to experience everything the world had to offer. She couldn’t decide what she truly wanted from her life, so everything had just stayed the same.

‘New experiences,’ Lina murmured to herself as she stopped beside a pair of huge wrought-iron gates, pushed open to reveal a sweeping drive. Fingering the metal for a moment, she peered inside, trying to catch a view of the house.

The drive curved away to the left through immaculately kept lawns and disappeared over a dip with no house in sight. Swallowing her nerves, Lina pushed herself to enter the grounds of Whitemore House, aware of the pounding of her heart in her chest.

When the house did come into view, set back at the crest of a small hill with the drive sweeping dramatically in front of it, Lina had to stop and pause for a second. Then she laughed out loud. It was easily the biggest building she had ever laid eyes on and Raul had taken her into London twice and York once over the course of their travels. It was perfectly proportioned, one central structure with two symmetrical wings flanking it, all in a beautiful sandy-coloured stone.

After more than ten minutes of walking, Lina finally reached the front door and was self-consciously adjusting her dress as it opened before her.

A middle-aged man greeted her with a tight smile.

‘Miss Lock, I presume?’

Lina nodded, her mouth too dry to speak.

‘Follow me, please.’ His words were delivered with a disdain that shook the nervousness from Lina. This was the reason she disliked the aristocracy. They were obsessed with the idea of respect and good manners, but treated anyone inferior as if they were at best a nuisance and at worst an inanimate object, to be used and discarded. Even their servants were rude.

‘So are you a member of the family, then?’ Lina asked, making sure she added a coarse quality to her voice as she spoke. She stepped over the threshold, trying to take in the vast entrance hall, the marble flooring and the perfectly sculpted statues that sat in recesses dotted along the walls.

‘Most certainly not. I am Lord Whitemore’s butler.’

‘So a servant. Strange, that.’

The butler looked down at her from his superior height.

‘What is strange?’ he asked eventually with a long-suffering sigh.

‘Well, I always thought servants were meant to be polite. To be a shining example to make their masters proud. But you, you’re ruder than a cow that hasn’t been milked for a week.’

‘I beg your pardon,’ the butler stammered. Lina half expected his face to turn bright red, but instead his cheeks seemed to lose colour and his lips were pressed thin. ‘That sort of language won’t be tolerated, Miss Lock.’

‘Ah, but it will. See, I’m an invited guest and you are a member of staff.’

‘The Marquess will hear about this.’

‘Williams, what is all the noise about?’ a soft, feminine voice called and was shortly followed by the emergence of Lord Whitemore’s sister from one of the many doorways that led into the grand entrance hall.

‘Please forgive me...’ The butler was silenced by a friendly wave of the hand and Lina felt herself being swept into the embrace of the slightly older woman.

‘Come, come, you must be tired from your journey. I have tea set out on the terrace. In the shade, of course, the sun does dastardly things to my complexion,’ Lord Whitemore’s sister gushed. The journey had taken less than three hours and Lina had experienced many more arduous days, but she allowed herself to be swept along by the other woman’s enthusiasm.

‘Thank you...Lady Whitemore?’ Lina ventured.

‘Dear me, we haven’t even been properly introduced. I am Lady Georgina Pentworthy, Alex’s long-suffering and completely devoted sister.’

‘A pleasure to meet you, Lady Pentworthy.’

Georgina shook her head very slightly and laughed. ‘Why don’t you call me Georgina, my dear? Much simpler than trying to untangle which part of my name to use when.’

They walked through a room filled wall to wall with books. Lina had never seen anything like it and paused for just a second to take in the dozens of bookshelves that lined the walls, full of heavy, leather-bound books. It made her much-treasured and battered three-book collection seem rather insignificant.

‘I am so pleased you agreed to come and stay,’ Georgina said, squeezing Lina’s arm lightly. ‘These next few weeks are going to be so much fun.’

‘Would it not have been better for you if I refused?’ Lina asked. ‘Then you would have won your wager straight out.’

‘Don’t tell my darling brother, but I don’t really mind if I win this wager or not. It’s the journey that is going to be the important part.’

‘The journey?’

Georgina motioned to a seat on the terrace, behind a table that looked out over the formal gardens directly behind the house. An assortment of mouth-watering pastries and a delicate china tea set were laid out and Lina wondered if Whitemore’s sister had been waiting on her arrival.

‘My brother is a very accomplished man, very talented,’ Georgina said slowly whilst pouring out a fragrant cup of amber-coloured tea. ‘But he has buried himself in his work for the last few years and I’m hoping you will be able to coax him out.’

Lina took a sip and eyed up the pastries, relieved when the other woman slipped two on to her own plate and motioned for Lina to take her pick.

‘How am I supposed to do that?’ This wager was becoming more complicated by the minute, what with Uncle Tom’s expectations of her and now Georgina’s hidden motives.

‘He will have to take a break, look up from his work and focus on something entirely different. To get you ready to attend a London ball you will have to go shopping, go for day trips, socialise at some local functions...’

‘Does Lord Whitemore not do all that already?’

Georgina grimaced. ‘He does,’ she said slowly. ‘But suffice it to say even if his body is in attendance, his head and his heart are not.’

Taking a bite of a crisp, fresh pastry Lina closed her eyes and savoured the mouthful. She wondered if she had ever tasted anything so delicious in her entire life.

‘How am I meant to influence that?’ Lina asked, putting down the pastry before she spoke so she would not shower her companion in crumbs.

‘Just by being here.’

It seemed like a lot of responsibility and as Lina gulped down the hot tea, she felt a stirring of unease. She liked Georgina, she seemed warm and genuine and hadn’t condescended to Lina once during their conversation. Despite their obvious differences in status and wealth Georgina was talking to her as if she was a treasured friend, not a gypsy girl whose main talents were a little fancy footwork and telling lies to impressionable young girls.

‘Please don’t fret,’ Georgina said reassuringly. ‘I’ll be here to guide you these first two weeks and after that I’m sure you’ll run rings around my brother.’

Lina wasn’t so sure. She knew she had a lightning-quick tongue, but sometimes she was too hot-headed, too fast to jump into a dangerous situation. From what she had seen so far Lord Whitemore had that easy manner of many men of his class, but also a cool, self-possessed quality and the self-assurance to go along with it. Lina wasn’t sure how well her usual tricks would stand up when pitted against Lord Whitemore’s imperturbable logic.

Two children came dashing across the lawn and Georgina stood to gather them in her arms. First to arrive was a boy of about five, followed by a smaller girl, who tottered to keep up, but still managed to outrun the exhausted-looking nursemaid who trailed behind.

‘My darlings, how I have missed you,’ Georgina gushed, peppering the two small children with kisses until both were rolling around, giggling and squirming out of her reach. ‘Now, William, Flora, we have a guest. This is Miss Lina Lock. She will be staying with your uncle for the next few weeks.’

‘Pleased to meet you, Miss Lock,’ William said, his words accompanied by a formal little bow. His expression was serious, as was his tone, and for a second it was as though he were transformed into a miniature adult.

Flora giggled, managed to dip into the sweetest curtsy Lina had ever seen, then promptly turned bright red and hid behind her mother’s skirts.

‘My children,’ Georgina explained rather unnecessarily. ‘William is five, and Flora is three.’ She turned to her son. ‘Now, William, where do you think your uncle might be?’

William’s eyes lit up and he was halfway across the lawn before Flora provided the answer.

‘Horses. Horses. He’s with horses,’ she chanted, flinging herself after her brother much to the nursemaid’s despair.

‘Shall we go and find him?’ Georgina suggested.

Lina nodded her agreement, feeling the excitement swell inside her. She’d known there would be horses on the estate—all the nobility seemed to have them to pull their carriages and to hunt with—but the idea that she might get to ride some of the magnificent animals had never even crossed her mind. She loved horses, loved feeling the wind in her hair as she galloped through the countryside, that sensation of freedom, but the horses her extended family owned were mainly slow, plodding beasts more accustomed to pulling heavy carts than being ridden for pleasure.

‘Lord Whitemore likes to ride?’ Lina asked casually as Georgina linked arms with her and together they followed the two children across the lawn and to the side of the house.

Georgina gave her a slightly curious sidelong look. ‘Yes, my brother likes to ride,’ she confirmed eventually.

They passed through a lovingly tended rose garden before entering a tree-lined walk that filtered some of the sunlight, giving the path a wonderfully dappled effect.

‘If you ever find yourself searching for my brother, this is where he will be,’ Georgina declared as they emerged into a large, dusty courtyard. Lord Whitemore was nowhere to be seen. ‘Well, not here exactly, but somewhere with his beloved horses.’

Daintily Georgina hopped over a pile of manure and led Lina past an assortment of stables and outbuildings to where the fields stretched out before them. In the foreground was a large fenced-off area.

As they drew closer, Lina couldn’t take her eyes off the magnificent, rearing beast that was snorting and stomping in the riding yard. Its coat was a beautiful chestnut brown that glistened in the sunlight and it was by far the biggest horse Lina had ever seen. Currently it didn’t appear too happy, tossing its head and taking hurried little steps sideways, letting out snorts of frustration.

Lina’s gaze was torn from the horse as a figure sauntered across her eyeline. He was tall and particularly muscular, something she could attest to due to the fact he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Sweat dripped over his torso and as he moved Lina thought he looked rather like one of the illustrations in her most treasured book, Greek Gods, Heroes and Myths.

Lord Whitemore approached the horse again, murmuring softly to it words that Lina could not hear, but could see the calming effect they had on the animal. He paused when he was about two feet away, the horse still stomping nervously. Lina was mesmerised; this was the ultimate battle for power and trust, one that she could see Lord Whitemore was well practised at negotiating.

Confidently but slowly he took another step forward, laying a hand on the animal’s neck and stroking softly, still murmuring his soothing words. The horse calmed, became still, and Lina saw the exact moment it capitulated and allowed Lord Whitemore to stroke it gently without any consequence.

Man and beast stood together for a few seconds before Lord Whitemore produced a simple halter.

‘Enough for today,’ Lina heard him whisper, and was amazed as the only recently calmed horse allowed him to slip on the halter and lead it to the edge of the pen. A stable boy quickly opened the gate, but stood back and let Lord Whitemore past rather than taking the animal back to the stables himself.

Lina watched enviously as the animal disappeared from view. She had ridden her fair share of wild horses in her time. She knew how to approach them, how to calm them and how to mount them, but she’d always chosen animals of moderate size, ones that would not cause her too much injury when they inevitably threw her. Every bone of her body wanted to be able to do what Lord Whitemore had just done and more.

‘Ah, Miss Lock. I’d completely forgotten you were arriving today,’ Lord Whitemore said as he emerged from the stables a couple of minutes later.

‘See? There in body, but not in mind,’ Georgina muttered.

Lina bobbed a clumsy curtsy, not knowing where to look as she rose. Lord Whitemore was still topless, but as she watched he grabbed a simple white shirt that was draped over the fence and pulled it over his head. His tanned and muscular torso was still partially visible through the thin white material, especially as it clung to the sweat on his body. Lina swallowed and tried to compose herself. She didn’t know why she was quite so affected by Lord Whitemore’s unexpected half nakedness. In the hot summer months most of the gypsy men she travelled with would set up for the fairs clothed in just their trousers. Lina was no stranger to bare chests and relaxed attitudes to clothing, but something about seeing Lord Whitemore like it had set her heart hammering.

‘What sort of horse was that?’ Lina asked, recovering enough to focus on what was important.

Lord Whitemore and Georgina exchanged glances.

‘You’re interested in horses?’ Lord Whitemore asked.

‘I love horses. He looked like an Arabian.’

‘What have I done?’ Georgina murmured as Lord Whitemore grinned. ‘Another horse lover.’

‘Well, these six weeks have just become a lot more tolerable,’ Lord Whitemore said.

Lina bristled, but forgot her indignation as Lord Whitemore offered her his arm and started explaining the origin and breed of his latest horse.