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Lord Randall is no threat, and you will be leaving soon. There is no reason at all to avoid him. Unless you are afraid.

‘Of course I am not afraid,’ she told herself crossly.

But the thought rankled. Papa had brought her up to fear nothing and question everything. There was a logical explanation for all things, he had said. Face your demons and you will understand them. And Lord Randall could hardly be called a demon. Proud, yes. Autocratic, definitely, and used to being obeyed, but no demon.

She rose and shook out her skirts. She would go with the Bentincks this afternoon and prove to herself that there was nothing remotely dangerous in taking tea at Somervil House.

* * *

Harriett came forward as they were shown into the drawing room, saying cheerfully, ‘I almost suggested we should put a table on the terrace, it is so warm. But, Mary, what is this Randall tells me, you have hurt your foot?’

‘It is the veriest scratch,’ she replied, ‘As you see I am perfectly able to walk upon it.’

Mr Graveney and Lord Randall were standing together by the window and Mary dipped a curtsy to them both before choosing to sit down in a chair on the far side of the room. She had hoped that in his sister’s house the earl might look a little less imposing, but no. His upright bearing and long-limbed figure were even more noticeable next to portly Mr Graveney. Just looking at the earl made her mouth go dry. He looked so solid and dependable, and Mary thought suddenly how comfortable it would be to have someone she could lean upon.

‘That would be lovely, would it not, Mary?’

Mrs Bentinck was handing her a cup of tea.

‘I beg your pardon,’ she stammered. ‘My thoughts were miles away.’

‘Mrs Graveney was suggesting we should take a walk later, to see how they have landscaped the gardens.’

‘Yes, an excellent idea,’ Mary concurred. She really must concentrate.

‘Unless you would rather sit here and rest your foot,’ suggested Harriett. ‘Randall could keep you company.’

‘No, no, I am perfectly well, thank you,’ Mary replied hastily. ‘And I would very much like to see your gardens before I leave.’

‘Yes, they have turned out very well, I think,’ said Mr Graveney. ‘Although they are nothing to the grounds of Chalfont Abbey, Lord Randall’s country seat.’

‘I can take no credit for that. My military duties do not allow me much time at the Abbey, but my mother keeps everything in excellent order.’

Mr Bentinck turned to the earl.

‘I trust, my lord, that you did not suffer overmuch from being thrust into the lion’s den the other night?’

‘Not at all, sir.’

Harriett laughed.

‘My brother is being polite, Mr Bentinck. He thinks many of your guests would be improved by a spell in the military.’

‘And so they would,’ agreed Mrs Bentinck, chuckling. ‘Or even if they had to work for their living, as poor Mary is obliged to do, and to suffer the indignity of being shunned in polite society by those who are only too willing to use her services. Is that not so, my dear?’

‘Oh, it is not so bad, really.’

Randall saw the telltale blush stealing into Mary’s cheek as she murmured her reply and was glad for her sake when Bentinck took the discussion in a different direction.

It was no wonder she should look embarrassed. He glanced at his sister; she was continuing to pour tea as if nothing was amiss at all. He felt his jaw set hard in disapproval. Graveney had led his sister too far down the path of radicalism for his liking, but he was a guest in the fellow’s house, he could hardly voice his disapproval now.

* * *

When they had finished drinking their tea and the idea of a walk was again mooted he decided to make his excuses and withdraw. Unfortunately Hattie had other ideas.

‘Oh, but you cannot disappear now, Randall. Theo wants to show Mr Bentinck the new book he has purchased, and since you saw it when you returned from your ride this morning you must escort us.’ She took his arm. ‘Come along, a little fresh air will soon put that gloomy look of yours to flight!’

Harriett shepherded the ladies into the hall, saying as they put on their bonnets, ‘I intended to show Mary the gardens when she arrived last week, but the weather has been so inclement I have not yet done so. Do not worry, though, the new gravel paths will make it perfectly dry underfoot.’


Tags: Sarah Mallory Historical