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‘As you may have gathered by now, my darling mother, together with most of my friends, has decided that it is high time I consider a second marriage.’
No response was forthcoming this time, so he continued undeterred. ‘It seems that most are in agreement that you would make me the ideal wife.’
Again there was no response.
‘They may possibly be correct, but I reserve the right to decide for myself. Just as I believe that you deserve the chance to make up your mind about me, without the least pressure being brought to bear upon you. That could be difficult in the present circumstances, with a certain person watching our every move, waiting with bated breath for us to announce our betrothal, unless we both work together to turn the situation in which we now find ourselves to our mutual advantage.’
She appeared merely bewildered now as she said, ‘And how do you propose that we do that, my lord?’
‘Simply by just being ourselves, and doing precisely what we wish to do. It would be foolish to attempt to avoid one another, as we’ll be residing in the same house, don’t you agree?’
‘Most assuredly.’
‘So what I suggest is that we keep the world guessing by being seen in each other’s company quite frequently, while at the same time not denying ourselves the pleasure of other people’s.’ He continued to hold her full attention. ‘Then, if by the end of the summer, when we have come to know each other a good deal better, we both decide that we should suit, all well and good, and if not…’
He reached for one of her hands and felt those slender, tapering fingers momentarily tremble in his clasp. ‘Either way, child, I want the decision to be ours, yours and mine. Not your mother’s, or mine, or anyone else’s, understand?’
It took a monumental effort, but Robina forced herself to meet his concerned and kindly gaze, and made a rather startling discovery. His eyes were not just a deep, warm brown but were flecked rather attractively with gold.
‘Yes, my lord, I do understand…And—and thank you,’ she said softly, blissfully ignorant of the fact that it had cost him dearly to suggest what he had, that the last thing in the world he had wanted was to release her from any obligations she might feel to marry him.
‘For what, silly child?’ His expressive brows rose. ‘For suggesting something that will benefit us both? Well, if you wish to show your appreciation, you can kindly stop calling me my lord. My name is Daniel.’
‘Oh, I couldn’t possibly address you like that, sir!’ She was genuinely shocked. ‘Mama would never approve.’
‘I’m not particularly interested whether she would or not,’ he returned bluntly. ‘You’ll be residing under my roof for the next few weeks, my girl, so you’ll do what I tell you, especially if you know what’s good for you.’
She gave an uncertain laugh. By repute he was a kind-hearted, considerate man, and yet some inner feminine wisdom warned her that there might be a less agreeable side to him if he was ever crossed. She had already discovered that he was not afraid to speak his mind, and couldn’t help wondering what other interesting facets to his character would emerge before this day was out.
‘Very well, little bird, we’ll compromise. When in private I insist you call me Daniel, and when in public you may call me what ever you like…’ white teeth flashed in a playful smile ‘…providing it is polite, of course.’
Giving the little hand a last reassuring squeeze, Daniel turned his attention back to the greys. ‘We had better catch up with my darling mama, otherwise she might imagine we’ve eloped.’
‘Oh, how excessively romantic!’ Robina exclaimed without thinking, and then turned a glowing crimson when she discovered herself on the receiving end of a startled glance.
‘Excessively uncomfortable, I would have thought,’ he contradicted, slowing his team down as they approached a busy little village, ‘especially if undertaken in an equipage such as this one, and it should come on to rain.’
‘People in love would not consider such a mundane thing as the weather, if they were considering running away together,’ she pointed out, rather enjoying his teasing banter, and liking too the way his eyes were brightened by that wickedly provocative glint.
‘I should,’ he argued, ‘but then I’m a practical sort of person, not given to mad starts. Besides which, having attained the great age of almost six-and-thirty, I enjoy my creature comforts and am far too old to go careering about the country. So I can tell you now, I shall never consider eloping with you.’
‘In that case, I think you were very wise to have second thoughts about making me an offer,’ she informed him quite deliberately, knowing that even half an hour ago she would never have considered saying such a thing to him. Now, however, she felt as if a very close friendship was on the verge of springing up between them. ‘It is quite evident to me at least that we would not have suited. I should very much like a gentleman to go careering about the country with me.’
‘I never said that I had had second thoughts about making you an offer, my girl,’ he corrected. ‘I merely said—What the devil!’
For a moment Robina was startled, then she saw it too—a great brute of a man beating a donkey with a stout stick, and very much appearing as if he was enjoying the exercise, while a woman, with two children frantically clutching at the folds of her skirts, was alternately shouting and pleading with him to stop.
Without a second thought Robina accepted the reins Daniel tossed into her hands, and then watched him stalk across the road. Easily capturing the stick, he proceeded to lay it about the bully’s shoulders before calmly knocking him to the ground with one superbly aimed blow to the jaw.
She was a little too far away to hear clearly what was being said, but a great deal of gesticulating, and swearing, she suspected, especially on the part of the felled bully, followed as Daniel calmly took something from inside his right boot. A moment later the pile of pots and pans which had been tied to the donkey’s back fell to the ground with a clatter, and a further heated altercation between the man and the woman ensued, before Daniel stepped into the breach once again.
Robina was only vaguely aware of what followed, for her attention was taken up with calming the greys, which had taken exception to the noise of the pots and pans clattering on the road. By the time she had them well under control again, the unkempt rogue was trudging off up the village street, carrying his wares on his own back, the two children, no longer sobbing, were leading the donkey into a paddock, and Daniel was accompanying the woman into a charming thatched cottage.
He reappeared a few minutes later, the woman at his heels this time, desperately striving to keep up with his long-striding gait, while attempting to offer her grateful thanks.
‘Not at all, my good woman. Only too pleased to be of assistance,’ Robina heard him say, before he doffed his hat, and came hurriedly across the road towards her.
‘My dear girl, I cannot apologise enough!’ There was an unmistakable flicker of concern in his eyes as he clambered up on the seat and relieved her of the reins. ‘What on earth must you think of me, deserting you in such a fashion! I sincerely trust you weren’t too nervous at being left in charge of the greys?’
‘Not at all,’ she assured him. ‘I frequently tool Papa’s one-horse gig when at home.’ She caught the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth, but didn’t attempt to enquire precisely what he had found so amusing, and merely asked for an account of what had taken place.
‘You saw what happened, I am ashamed to say, but there was little I could do to avoid your witnessing that unfortunate encounter.’ He gave the greys the office to start, once again handling the spirited pair with effortless ease. ‘I am not accounted a violent man, and yet I would be the first to admit that I have an almost pathological hatred for persons who inflict needless cruelty. It wasn’t sufficient for that oaf to pass by the gate of the donkey’s former, caring owners each day, he must needs stop to torment those children further by abusing a creature they both love, and had looked upon as a pet.’
‘How dreadful! I’m very glad we happened along. And now the donkey, I assume, has been restored to its former owners.’
‘Not quite.’ His smile was decidedly rueful. ‘He now belongs to me. I decided, all things considered, that it would be for the best.’
Robina managed to keep her countenance, but it was an effort. It was quite evident that he wasn’t precisely enthusiastic over this latest acquisition, and she could not resist the temptation to tease him a little.
‘I have observed during my weeks in London that it is not unusual for a gentleman of—how shall I phrase it?—an eccentric nature to indulge in rather queer starts from time to time. I suppose you suddenly discovered that you had need of a beast of burden?’
‘I am beginning to discover that there is a strong teasing element in your nature, my girl!’ The swift, narrow-eyed glance he cast her managed to betray both amusement and faint exasperation. ‘No, you provoking little baggage! I did not suddenly take it into my head that I wished to own such a creature. And if you dare to tell another living soul, you’ll regret it! I would become a laughingstock, and the talk of the clubs for weeks!’
She did not suppose for a moment that he would care a jot what the world at large said or thought about him, but she gave her solemn promise none the less, before demanding to know why he had taken it upon himself to make such an odd purchase.
‘Because I discovered that it was in fact that poor woman’s idle husband who sold the beast, before calmly going off and leaving her and their children to fend for themselves. She hasn’t seen him since and doesn’t expect to. There is, however, always the chance that he’ll turn up again, like the proverbial bad penny, and repeat the procedure, leaving her without the means to transport her goods to market, and depriving the children of their pet. So to overcome this possibility, I have given her a letter which states that, on condition she takes good care of the animal, she has my full permission, as its owner, to use the donkey to transport her goods to the local market, but on no account must my property be sold without my written consent.’
How exceedingly kind and considerate he was! Robina decided, as they rejoined the post road and she caught sight of her ladyship’s carriage in the distance. He had been generous to three perfect strangers and no less generous towards her.
By demanding only friendship, he had now made it possible for her to enjoy the weeks ahead without fear that at the end of her stay she would be asked for recompense.
So why then, she wondered, a frown of puzzlement creasing her brow, wasn’t she feeling deliriously happy at this precise moment? Furthermore, why had she suddenly developed this peculiar hollow feeling deep inside?
Chapter Three
Robina, still very much enjoying the novel experience of having her hair expertly dressed each day by Lady Exmouth’s skilful abigail, sat quietly before the dressing-table mirror, contemplating yet again how much her life had changed since she had left rural Northamptonshire behind her on that cold day in early March.
For a simple country girl, accustomed to comfort rather than luxury, and to lengthy periods of solitude, given to quiet reflection, or the pursuit of some useful occupation whereby she might be of some benefit to her fellow man, it was quite surprising the ease with which she had conformed to a hectic and purely social life, where the pursuit of personal pleasure was the only thing that need concern her to any degree. Her mother’s presence, understandably, had been a steadying influence during those heady weeks in London. Since her arrival in Brighton no restrictions had been placed upon her whatsoever. In fact, not to put too fine a point on it, she was being thoroughly spoilt by the darling Dowager and her no less considerate son. And she was shamefully loving every moment of it!
‘It’s simply no good at all. It must stop!’ she announced, with as much determination as she could muster, and without really realising that she had spoken her guilty thoughts aloud until she happened to glance up and noticed the middle-aged abigail’s slightly puzzled expression in the dressing-table mirror.
‘What’s the matter, miss? Don’t you care for this style any longer? We can always try something different if you’d prefer.’
‘I have no fault to find with the way you dress my hair, Pinner,’ Robina hurriedly assured her.
‘Well, that’s a blessing, miss!’ One could almost sense that the highly skilled and conscientious servant was suppressing a sigh of relief. ‘For one dreadful moment there I thought you were going to ask me to cut it. And that I would never willingly do,’ she announced, easing the brush almost reverently through the long shiny dark strands. ‘Beautiful, it is, and a sheer delight to dress, miss, just like the rest of you. There aren’t too many blessed with such a perfect figure as yours. You’re an abigail’s dream, Miss Robina, so you are! You’d look wonderfully turned out in a scullery-maid’s apron!’
‘You’re the one who deserves the credit, not I,’ Robina countered, desperately striving not to allow this fulsome praise go to her head.
As her father, the Reverend William Perceval, had always considered vanity amongst the very worst of sins, compliments were rarely uttered back at the vicarage in Abbot Quincey, and yet Robina, who had been taught to consider inner beauty far more meaningful than any shallow outward trappings, could not help but feel gratified by the compliment.
‘It is no good, Pinner,’ she announced, rising to her feet when the last curls had been carefully pinned into place. ‘I must face the fact that, unless I begin to exert a deal of self-control, I stand in the gravest danger of becoming thoroughly corrupted whilst I continue to reside under this roof. Why, I shall be of no earthly use to man or beast when the time comes for me to return to Abbot Quincey! I never used to think twice about mending a tear in a gown, or dressing my own hair. Now I wouldn’t even contemplate doing such a thing, and am more than content to sit back and allow others to do everything for me. Thoroughly indulged, I am, and loving it! What would dear Papa say?’
It was all very well to make light of it, Robina decided, as the bedchamber resounded with Pinner’s highly amused chuckles, but really it was no laughing matter. She had adapted to this life of ease, this life of pure self-indulgence, as though she had been born to it, which of course was far from the truth. Although life at the vicarage could never have been described as one of drudgery, she had been expected to undertake a variety of light duties, which had included a certain amount of time given to the entertainment of her three younger sisters, ensuring that they didn’t get into mischief by setting a good example herself.
And a fine example she would set for them now! she mused, unable to suppress a rueful half-smile. There was no denying that the highly complaisant and faintly indolent Dowager was an appalling influence. To be fair, though, she ought to accept the lion’s share of the blame herself for not displaying more strength of character and halting her meteoric descent into that wicked pit of dissipation. On the other hand, it had to be said in her own defence that she had been battling against tremendous odds during these past days. Why, even his lordship had actively encouraged her to do precisely as she wished!
Although Daniel had made his feelings on the matter perfectly clear at the outset by announcing that friendship was all he demanded from her at this present moment in time, since their arrival in Brighton he had been unfailingly thoughtful, touchingly attentive to her every possible need.
She paused as she reached the bottom of the stairs, and stared thoughtfully in the direction of the breakfast-parlour door, unaware that her expression had been softened by a quite spontaneous, tender little smile.
She found it hard to believe now, but it was true none the less that, although she had readily agreed to the suggestion when it had first been made, she had, surprisingly, not found it easy to look upon Daniel merely as a friend. Which was all the more curious because she had never found it in the least daunting to converse with him, not even when they had first met in London.
Her father’s particular calling had ensured that throughout her life she had, on a fairly regular basis, come into contact with people who had suffered recent bereavement. Consequently she had known precisely what to say to Daniel from the first, and had never experienced the least awkwardness in his presence. A slightly closer relationship had initially, she was forced to own, proved a different matter entirely, however.
Not having been blessed with any brothers had, she supposed, substantially limited her experience of the opposite sex, and although her Perceval cousins, Hugo and Lowell, had been frequent visitors to the vicarage, she had acquired precious little knowledge of the workings of the male mind from either of them. During childhood she had been inclined to look upon Hugo, some ten years her senior, as a most superior being, sophisticated, charming, and slightly unapproachable; Lowell, being some six years his brother’s junior, had always seemed to her, and still did for that matter, little more than an endearing scamp, always ripe for any lark. Consequently, living under the same roof as Lord Exmouth had turned out to be something of a revelation.
Daniel, she had swiftly discovered, possessed the most wonderful sense of humour. He certainly appeared to enjoy indulging in bouts of light-hearted banter, and the frequent exchange of the swift repartee, but there was nothing of the mischievous schoolboy in his nature. Far from it, in fact! He was every inch the fashionable gentleman, accomplished and refined, and yet not remotely high in the instep. This was perhaps why she had managed eventually to dispense with those last barriers of reserve, and had come to feel so completely relaxed in his company, more so, surprisingly, than in her own father’s.
No one would have supposed for a moment that Robina held her new-found friend in such high esteem when she entered the breakfast-parlour a moment later to discover him, as expected, already seated at the table; least of all Daniel himself, who was not slow to perceive the slightly troubled look in her strikingly pretty, clear blue eyes.
‘What’s the matter, my little bird?’ Ever the polite gentleman, he rose to his feet and waited until she had slipped into the chair beside his own before resuming his repast. ‘Did you have trouble sleeping last night?’
‘How could I possibly have trouble sleeping, Daniel, when I have been given, I do not doubt, the most comfortable bed in the house?’ Without the least show of reticence, Robina began to help herself to coffee and a delicious hot buttered roll. ‘And that is precisely what concerns me. If I’m not very careful, I’m likely to be ruined by both you and your mother.’
‘Now there’s a tempting thought!’ he muttered before he could stop himself, but fortunately she appeared not to have heard. ‘How precisely have Mama and I fallen from grace?’
‘You both spoil me shamefully. Yes, you do,’ she reiterated when he looked about to refute this. ‘You have been so kind, giving up so much of your time in order to keep me entertained. And as for your mother…Oh, Daniel! She came to my bedchamber after we had retired last night, bringing the box containing that lovely garnet necklace of hers and matching earrings.’ There was no mistaking the agitation in her voice. ‘She insisted on making me a present of them, and I found myself in the position whereby to have refused would have made me appear so very ungrateful. And that I assure you I am not! But she really ought not to give me such things.’
‘I couldn’t agree more!’ he announced, surprising her somewhat, for he sounded genuinely annoyed.
‘Then—then, you’ll have a word with her on—on my behalf?’ she ventured, fervently hoping that she would not be causing trouble between mother and son. ‘Suggesting kindly, I hope, that she ought not to—to give me such things?’
‘Most assuredly I shall, child. You may rely upon it,’ he responded, frowning dourly as the door opened. ‘And there’s no time like the present,’ he added as the object of his evident displeasure, joining them early for once, entered the breakfast-parlour.
‘What’s this I’ve been hearing, Mama!’ he demanded the instant she had seated herself in the chair opposite. ‘What do you mean by presenting Robin with that set of garnets, may I ask?’
‘Why shouldn’t I, dear?’ the Dowager replied, betraying no obvious signs of resentment at the faintly dictatorial tone. ‘They were mine to dispose of as I saw fit, and they will look much prettier displayed against young skin.’ Glancing across the table, she was not slow to notice the twinkling mischief in his dark eyes. ‘What is the matter, my son? Do you disapprove of my giving Robina such a gift?’
‘Most assuredly! Why didn’t you present her with the rubies?’ Daniel almost burst out laughing as Robina’s knife fell from her fingers to land on her plate with a clatter. ‘I’ve always considered garnets trumpery gauds, as well you know.’
‘Well, dear, I couldn’t give her the ruby set, now could I?’ the Dowager pointed out in her defence. ‘They are amongst the family jewels, and are kept safely locked away at Courtney Place. Besides which, they are not mine to give.’
Ignoring the flashing look of reproach from a certain highly disgruntled quarter, Daniel leaned back in his chair, looking for all the world as if he were giving the matter due consideration. ‘I do not think I would give Robin the ruby set in any case, not unless she had her heart set on them, that is. No, I would be more inclined, with her delicate colouring, to deck her out in sapphires. What do you think, Mama?’
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake!’ Robina buried her face in her hands, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. ‘I give up!’
‘Yes, you may have a point there, dear,’ her ladyship agreed, sublimely ignoring the muttered interruption. ‘Sapphires certainly emphasise blue eyes and a fair complexion, but don’t discount the rubies, my son. With that beautiful dark hair, she could carry that particular stone very well, too.’
Wickedly enjoying himself at his darling guest’s expense, his lordship finished off the last mouthful on his plate before reaching for the journal conveniently placed nearby. ‘By the by, Mama. Darling Robina, here, feels that we are spoiling her, and being far, far too kind. So I have decided to remedy this misconduct on our part by taking her out in the curricle this morning.’
A brief glance in Robina’s direction was sufficient to inform the Dowager that the girl was as much puzzled by this pronouncement as she was herself. ‘I’m evidently being foolishly obtuse, but I do not immediately perceive how jaunting about the town in an open carriage is likely to remedy the situation, my son.’
‘Because yesterday, when Robin and I were strolling about the town, our attention was momentarily captured by the sight of that outrageous Lady Claudia Melrose making an exhibition of herself again by tooling a high-perched phaeton down the middle of the street. And young madam here, far from scandalised by such behaviour, was not slow to express her admiration of the dashing lady’s skill, nor her wish that she too could tool a racing vehicle with such flair. So, after due consideration, I’ve decided to offer the benefit of my no little experience and instruct her.’
Robina, swiftly forgetting her grievances, gave vent to a tiny squeal of delight. ‘Truly, sir…? You’ll teach me?’
‘Yes, child, but only because it will offer me the golden opportunity of scolding you unmercifully, you understand? And woe betide you if you dare to damage my greys’ delicate—’
He broke off, staring fixedly for a few moments at the article in the newspaper which had unexpectedly captured his attention, before handing the journal over to Robina, indicating the section he wished her to read by prodding the precise spot in the column with one well-manicured finger. ‘Am I right in thinking that the Marquis of Sywell heralded from your neck of the woods, child?’
Her expression changing to one of incredulity, Robina swiftly apprised herself of the item of news, and then automatically turned to Daniel for corroboration. ‘Heavens above! Do you suppose it can possibly be true?’
‘I am on occasions very sceptical about what I read in the newspapers, most especially about what appears in the gossip columns. But I doubt very much that such a detailed account as that one would have appeared in print if it were not true.’
‘What on earth has happened?’ the Dowager enquired, gaining her son’s attention.
‘The Marquis of Sywell is dead. He was discovered by his manservant lying flat on his back on the bedchamber floor, with a razor—er—stuck in his chest. It may have been an accident of course. Sywell was, after all, a notorious drunkard who could well have tripped and fallen on the implement. The authorities, however, cannot rule out foul play.’
‘No, indeed,’ Robina agreed, focusing her attention on an imaginary spot on the wall opposite, wondering why she felt not the smallest degree of remorse.
Undeniably, the Marquis had been a cruel, thoroughly selfish man who had gone through life taking what he wanted, when he wanted, with no consideration whatsoever for the feelings of others. The name Sywell had become a byword for debauchery among the inhabitants of the four Abbey villages. He had been despised by many; liked by none. He had not, however, inflicted any harm on her personally, nor on any member of her immediate family, as far as she was aware. So surely she ought to feel at least a twinge of remorse, if not for his death, then at least for the manner of his passing? The truth of the matter was, though, she felt absolutely nothing at all, and was not quite comfortable with herself for this sad absence of feeling. Had her weeks in London so changed her that she now cared not a whit whether or not a fellow human being had met his end in so violent a manner?
Daniel, watching her closely, was not slow to note the slightly perturbed expression. ‘Were you well acquainted with him, child?’
‘No, not at all.’ She 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.
