Page 78 of Rivals at Ashmore Castle

He nodded. She suddenly had the most tremendous urge to kiss him. She had a wild moment of imagining herself stepping forward, putting her arms up around his neck, pressing her mouth to his. He would gather her in, hold her close to him, and she would never go away again. She knew in that instant for a certainty that he was thinking the same thing. She ached. It was like longing to go home.

Then he said, ‘Best you get on. You don’t want that mare catching cold. Josh’d have my hide if he knew I’d kept you talking.’

He was reminding her of the hazards, of the eyes that would be watching, the tongues that would wag, of the disapproval and condemnation that were just waiting to be unleashed.

Drearily she took the reins, turned Bee so that her nearside was to him, and bent her knee for him to throw her up into the saddle. He held Bee’s head courteously while she settled herself, then let her go. She looked down at him, bareheaded in the sunshine, for a long time, trying to work out what to say, and then he smiled, sadly, as if he knew what she was thinking.

‘Goodbye’s all there is,’ he said.

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Goodbye.’

Angus asked for a private interview with Giles in which, in fine traditional manner, he asked formally for Rachel’s hand.

‘She doesn’t need my permission,’ Giles said. ‘I couldn’t forbid the match if I wanted to.’

‘I hope you don’t want to, sir,’ Angus said seriously.

‘Good grief, no! You’ve proved your fidelity over this last year and more. If anyone deserves her, you do.’

‘I’m in a position now to support her in a suitable manner,’ Angus persevered, determined to do everything properly. His courtship had not begun well; he wanted it to end with no bad feelings.

Giles eyed him with interest. ‘I’m her brother, you know, not her father. Do you want me to demand you set out your credentials?’

‘I’d sooner everything was above-board. My father disinherited me, as you know, but I inherited a separate fortune from my grandmother.’ He told Giles the amount.

‘Good God! I had no idea it was so much. Well, I’m glad for you. If Rachel doesn’t fritter it all away on dresses, you’ll be very comfortable together.’

A little frown gathered between Angus’s brows. ‘You’re very hard on her,’ he mentioned.

‘I’m sorry. It’s a brother’s privilege to tease. And she is very ignorant and uninformed, though that’s not entirely her fault. My father didn’t believe in education for females, and my mother…Well, you know my mother’s views. And I was rarely at home to take an interest in her or Alice. I suppose that is to my discredit.’

‘Oh, no, sir. I’m not wishing to pass blame on anyone. And the fact is that I love Rachel just as she is.’

‘Well, that’s the biggest mystery, but I’m glad to hear it. If my blessing is worth anything to you, you have it with all my heart. On one condition.’

‘Yes, sir?’

‘That you stop calling me sir.’

* * *

On Monday Angus caught the train to London. A telephone call from the public operator in Marylebone station to his office provided the information that Mr Cowling was still at home in Market Harborough, so he took the Underground to St Pancras, pondered sending a telegram, then decided penitence would have more effect on the unprepared mind.

At Market Harborough station he had to ask the way, and found that it was only a short walk, not worth taking a cab for. The house was surprisingly small, but the door was opened by a tall, bony manservant who was clearly too big – on the inside as well as the outside – for such a modest dwelling. He was admitted into a small parlour to wait, and asked the manservant to be sure to tell Mr Cowling that he had come to apologise, in case that should make the difference between being seen or sent away.

He had not taken into account the euphoria of new parenthood. Mr Cowling arrived so immediately he must have jumped up as soon as he heard the name, and came into the room with a wide smile and shook his hand with both his own. ‘My dear boy, I’m so sorry about your father, though I know you were estranged, but the Lord only gives you one of them – aye, that’s the truth! – and you must have felt it. How is your mother taking it? You left her in good health, I hope?’

‘Stoically, sir. And, yes, she’s as well as can be expected. I came to apologise for leaving so abruptly and without asking per—’

He got no further. ‘Nay, lad, nay, no need to apologise. What else could you do when you got the call? You were missed, though, I won’t deny. And my man, Moxton, said you gave your name as Sir Angus – is that right? I suppose your father couldn’t keep the title from you, whatever else.’

‘No, sir. I inherited the baronetcy, and also a collateral fortune that wasn’t in his gift, left to me direct by my grandmother.’

‘A fortune, eh? Well, that beats Banagher all right! So some good’s come out of bad in the end. Congratulations, lad. Oh, I should say Sir Angus! Forgive me.’

‘Mr Cowling, my gratitude to you knows no bounds. You can call me anything you like,’ Angus said fervently.

Cowling beamed. ‘That’s handsome of you, lad. But I suppose, if you’ve a fortune, you won’t want to work for me any more,’ he added wistfully.