Sally smiled, but the jibe hit a little too close to the bone. Newberry Park consisted of wives or spinsters for the most part. “There are only ten Ford women on the estate to amuse three often exacting men. It is an exhausting job indeed keeping that trio and guests in line, I might tell you.”
“I do not wonder why you are hardly ever in London. They do not dare let you out of their sight for long because they are afraid of letting you go.” Ellicott kissed her hand again and looked deep into her eyes. He doted on her as much as almost-courting couples were allowed within the bounds of propriety in public, and in the brief private moments they had been granted she had found much to admire in him. He was very free with his compliments, and she felt them all sincere.
He needed a bride with a fortune to bolster his estate’s finances but was not so overwhelmed with debt to be considered an out-and-out scoundrel about it. Her dowry and connections were important to him. He was smart enough to keep up his end of a lively conversation, and he was active enough not to allow his figure to run to fat anytime soon.
Overall, a worthy catch for any husband-hunting woman from a good family.
Unfortunately for Sally, her head might say yes to marrying him, but her body and heart remained watching from the shadows. That lack of feeling was probably for the best. If there was any chance of love between them, Sally was convinced it would surface once they were husband and wife and without anyone, such as her nine female relations, watching everything they did and said together.
Finding quiet moments with Lord Ellicott had been a challenge during the week of the Ellicotts’ stay. Not one to let a little obstacle such as propriety overset her plans at this late stage of their courtship, she allowed him to take her hand in his and place it upon his arm. “You are too kind.”
“Not at all, for it is the honest truth.” He led her across the room and stopped, poised equally between their mothers. He cast his eye over them all and smiled. “Beauty runs in the family. In both families.”
“True, but a woman’s good looks must be cared for as if they were her greatest achievement,” Lady Ellicott remarked, casting a stern look in Sally’s direction. “I trust you rested in a dark room this morning. It works wonders for the complexion.”
“I did hope to, but unfortunately there was a matter that required my urgent attention, so I had no choice but to go out for a little while.” A fat fib if ever she had told one. She had wanted to escape the house and find a useful outlet for her nervous energy. Pretending to be demure was difficult.
Lady Ellicott exchanged a glance with her son that hinted at disapproval. In her brother’s absence, Sally had involved herself in the running of the estate more than most unmarried women her age usually did. She enjoyed the challenge but made certain to hide her activities from important guests who would disapprove.
She glanced at her mother, seeking a diversion from conversation of Newberry, and saw annoyance in her expression, which she usually did not reveal so openly. Countess Templeton possessed a stubborn disposition and yet disliked disagreements. In her early fifties and mother of six children, five of whom still lived, there were ample signs of what had been considerable beauty in her mother’s dear face. Determined that her mother and Lady Ellicott not fall out today of all days, Sally crossed the room and perched at her mother’s side.
“Good afternoon, Mama,” Sally said warmly, then pitched her voice low as she continued. “There were poachers in the northern field last night, but no sign of them now or the last dozen sheep of that flock. I have had them moved closer to the rest.”
“If you think that best,” her mother said approvingly.
What Sally did for her family likely amounted to work by an outsider’s standards, but she did it with love and pride. Lady Ellicott could not seem to abide the concept of a woman employed and had already expressed her disapproval in many subtle ways. Today Sally was not so lucky.
“Surely Lord George should be making these decisions, or your father or grandfather.”
Sally met the woman’s gaze steadily, resigned to yet another lengthy discussion on what women should do or not do. It was the worst possible time for it. “Uncle George has his own duties, father is barely ever away from the admiralty, and my grandfather cannot ride the estate anymore. What should we do, allow the flock to be fleeced and the estate fall to wrack and ruin while we spin lace in the drawing room?”
Ellicott coughed into his fist. “Never that.”
His mother sniffed haughtily. “A lady should never be without a knowledge of lacemaking. It is certainly more proper than traipsing around the estate at all hours. I always advise my acquaintances to spend as little time out of doors in the elements as possible to preserve the complexion.”
Sally happened to love the outdoors, and she liked the way her skin looked—vivid and glowing with warmth during the summertime months. She also loved to be useful, to be as involved as possible with what happened on the Newberry Park estate. Hiding her involvement in the running of the estate was not easy. Many of the servants came to her with their problems and looked to her to make decisions. When she married Ellicott, she would never be an idle wife, but she had to tread carefully for now.
“And she makes the most delicate pieces,” her mother insisted loyally. To Sally she said, “You always make the right choices for the estate, and I could not be prouder of the woman you have become. Never doubt that, regardless of what anyone says to the contrary.”
Sally struggled to hide her surprise. Normally her mother would say nothing so openly approving about her or about the additional duties they undertook for the estate, certainly not around the Ellicotts. She had agreed that for Sally to make a good impression with the Ellicotts, especially at her age, she had to change, to hide the more unorthodox aspects of their family life.
Hoping to turn the conversation into smoother waters, she smiled warmly at her mother. “Shall we take tea on the terrace today?”
Her mother’s face lit up. “Yes, tea out of doors is just the thing to amuse us all.”
“I think we should rather not. It is so warm outside and blustery,” Lady Ellicott said in a firm voice. Outside, the wind was only gently stirring the bushes of the garden.
Lady Ellicott had a preference for eating all meals indoors. Not even picnics on the cliff tops pleased her. Sally had little choice but to agree with her assessment of the weather since she was trying so hard to win a place in the woman’s good graces. “Well then, shall I twist Ellicott’s arm and have him read to us from the new London Gazette while we enjoy the tea together here?”
Ellicott shifted toward her. “I was actually hoping you and I might stroll the grounds. Stretch our legs a bit.” He turned to Sally’s mother. “All within proper sight of the mansion of course.”
Lady Ellicott stared hard at her son a moment but nodded. “I am sure Lady Templeton will happily agree to your suggestion.”
Her mother’s expression grew flinty. “A leisurely stroll about the gardens is acceptable within sight of this room, but propriety must always be observed. You will take a maid.”
Sally wanted the opportunity to be alone with Ellicott so he could propose, and her mother was not making it easy. A maid would gossip afterward. She would rather not receive a proposal with an audience. “Mama, please. What harm could come from a short walk through the gardens without a chaperone? We are at home. The wisteria walk is very beautiful at this time of year.”
“Indeed that is true.” Mama glanced around and then smiled. “I will have a shawl fetched and join you outside.”