Page 31 of The Sprinter
Ryland had referred him, believing he needed a watchman for his own house after George had invented a story of a break-in. The fellow had seemed competent when he’d interviewed him. He claimed he did such work all the time. He’d been recommended by Ryland. How hard could the task be?
Watch the house and if he saw Miss Yardley coming out a window, quietly raise the alarm and make sure the butler didn’t shoot her. That was all.
On his way to Lady Redfield’s musical evening, he’d stopped outside his aunt’s house to see how things were going.
At first, he could not even find the fellow and wondered if he’d just up and quit.
Then, Melberry had rolled out of the bushes and blathered on for a quarter-hour.
Miss Yardley threatened him with some sort of pointing to her eyes and then pointing at him. If that weren’t enough, the lady kept opening the window as if she would make her move and then just when he was set to race into the house to raise the alarm, she’d shut it again. Then, she’d actuallywavedto him as she left in the carriage.
He ended the tale with, “My lord, she is taunting me, as anybody can see!”
George had suppressed a wish to inquire of him if he were by any chance related to Mr. Ranston. Instead, he’d just spurred his horse and went on his way.
He didn’t know what to do with the fellow.
For that matter, he did not know what to do with Miss Yardley. The lady had been under surveillance for all of a quarter-hour before figuring it out. Further, she had not taken the information quietly. What was she doing, pointing at her eyes and waving at his watchman?
On the other hand, jolly clever of her to surmise the situation so quickly. And, if he were honest, it was rather funny that she was taunting Melberry. She was a very daring sort of girl.
George reminded himself to be serious. Shewasa daring sort of girl—that was the problem. She’d already made herself the talk of the town. If she tried another run for Kent, she would find herself labeledThe Sprinterforevermore.
She was set to appear at Lady Redfield’s party to face the thing down and his aunt had asked…no…required, that he attend to shore up the defenses. They were all to say it never happened, Jacobs had made the whole thing up. Their story was weak on its face, but would absolutely crumble if Miss Yardley were to try something like it again.
*
Grace had beendiscomposed by Lady Langley’s hint when she had noticed her staring at Lord Gresham as he entered the room. How embarrassing to be caught out in such a manner. And even more embarrassing if Lady Langley were to understand the real circumstance.
The real circumstance, such as it was beginning to seem, was that no matter how she tried, she could not fail to be struck by him.That, she had already admitted to herself. Now she was to know she did not even do a credible job masking it.
The other real circumstance was that Lord Gresham had not wasted a moment warning her off him. She had been so insulted that he’d presumed her interest, but had it been the truth all along? Had he seen what she had not yet seen in herself?
She had since rejoined Lady Heathway who was just now conversing with Lady Redfield.
Fortunately, she was not required to speak, as Lady Heathway had gone in-depth in describing how she’d thought of the particular design of Grace’s dress.
“These are the things you must think of, Cecilia, when you have your own girl and are on the verge of adding a flower pattern to her dress. What does the flower say? I seem to remember a lady a few seasons ago that had a marigold trim and I thought, what on earth is she sad about? These details must be considered!”
“Goodness,” Lady Redfield said breathlessly, “I have been in the habit of leaving those things to my modiste. It is all is rather complicated.”
“Now,” Lady Heathway said, lowering her voice and leaning toward Lady Redfield, “send in Grace with my nephew and if you could put Sir Richard on her other side that would suit. I’ll direct George, you steer Sir Richard. I do not want Grace to be peppered with questions regarding…recent events. Sir Richard only likes to talk about his dogs, which will do very well. This night is for appearances, not explanations.”
Lady Redfield nodded, her brows knit as if she must commit these various directions to memory.
Grace searched her mind for a reasonable way to change the scheme. She did not want to be seated next to Lord Gresham. But then, she did want to. Neither yes nor no, nor here nor there seemed to suit.
She was an unconscionable ninny and not a thing presented itself to her mind. It was as if her thoughts were worn out and decided to retire for the night. She would be taken in by Lord Gresham and she was both pleased and displeased. He was the man who had insulted and scolded and yet, also defended her when they’d encountered Jacobs in the park.
He was the man who fairly took her breath away.
He was also the man who had hired a watchman because he took her for an imbecile.
He was probably right. She was an imbecile.
While Grace noddedat Sir Richard as he did most of the talking, she was keenly aware of the person on her other side. She wondered if Lord Gresham was annoyed at his aunt’s and Lady Redfield’s maneuvering to place him as one of her dinner partners. He must be growing exceedingly tired of it.
As for Sir Richard, Lady Heathway appeared to understand him very well. Grace almost felt she knew his two beloved spaniels personally at this point.
