Authors: The Nomad Harp
“I am not used to dealing with women,” he admitted grudgingly.
“Well, for the sake of your ‘elf’ you had best learn,” she snapped.
“We will leave Miss Stafford out of our discussion, if you please, Miss Forbes.”
Glenna knew she had truly discomfited him this time and, perversely, wished she had not. Stricken with a sense of guilt, she found herself unable to speak, for although he had indeed annoyed her several times this afternoon, she was aware of the patience with which he had tolerated her insistence on having her way over the renovations. There was also, she thought miserably, the fact that he had provided her with a home, and a horse, and an occupation during her time of grief.
Pontley regarded her bowed head suspiciously. It was most unlike the fiery young lady to knuckle under, and he had not meant to cow her, but her mention of Miss Stafford, in light of his thoroughly mixed emotions on that particular head, could only add to his slightly frayed nerves. “Perhaps I should tell you that, far from disapproving of some of your innovations at Manner Hall, I have instituted several similar measures at Huntley.”
“No, have you?” She lifted her head and met his eyes. “Which ones?”
“Not bee keeping,” he said ruefully, “but we now have a dairy maid and a gamekeeper. The grounds could not justify a gardener as yet, and fortunately they are planned to look rather disordered. I really feel it would be wise for me to return to Lockwood to study the workings there. It is a far better-run establishment than either of the others was.”
“Your aunt’s doing, to give credit where it is due. Has she moved to the dower house?”
“Months ago, with no lessening in the vituperative pennings she sends me, I promise you. But I cannot wrest the reins from her at a distance; the agent and household staff still jump when she speaks, and God knows she is knowledgeable.”
“Why not simply leave matters in her hands? Without the drains of her sons she will soon enough show a profit for you."
“I am not in the habit of allowing other people to assume my burdens, Miss Forbes.”
“Is that why it makes you so angry that I have taken charge here?”
“No, my dear girl, it is not! I sent you here for a chance to catch your breath after your father’s death, and you have not stood still long enough to enjoy yourself.”
A slow smile spread over Glenna’s swollen features. “You mistake the matter, Lord Pontley. I am never happy but when I am busy, and I cannot remember when last I so thoroughly relished what I was doing. It is beautiful here and challenging to make a go of my projects. Why, I have learned to ride, and to make cheese, and to plant herbs, and even a bit about the farming.”
“To say nothing of bee keeping.”
“Very
little about bee keeping, except that I shall never try it again. Oh, and we have made visits to the castle and some of the most charming villages. There’s quite a fascinating yarn market in Minehead and some lovely walks on the moor. So you see, I have not spent all my time slaving to repay you for your kindness,” she concluded bluntly.
“You relieve my mind, Miss Forbes. Still, rather than undertaking any new endeavors, I will arrange with Glover to provide the funds for the kitchen. If need be, there may be some extra from Huntley from the harvest which could be used.” He contemplated her steadily. “Would that be satisfactory?”
Glenna made an awkward, nervous gesture. “I have been very stubborn about the kitchen, my lord. You will do just as you please, of course. Perhaps you still do not see the necessity for any change there.”
He cast his eyes heavenward and exclaimed, “Oh, for God’s sake, woman. You have pleaded your cause. with the ability of a barrister and I would not dream of presenting a tenant with that hole.” He made a disgusted gesture toward the building, and his hand inadvertently struck her on the shoulder.
Although tears sprang to her eyes from the pain, she was overcome by a fit of laughter at his ludicrous expression of dismay. Pontley stood stiffly at attention, unable to say more than, “Forgive me,” owing to her peals of mirth. After a moment he could not tell if the tears that crept down her cheeks were from pain or merriment, but he had the distinct impression that she was hysterical and he longed to shake her. Instead he barked, “Stop that, Miss Forbes.”
When she lifted her head, the red-gold curls had almost entirely escaped from the lopsided cap and she pressed her lips together solemnly. “You are not a safe man to be around, Pontley.”
He drew a handkerchief from his pocket and offered it to her, saying, “I am not usually so careless, ma'am." While she dabbed cautiously at the tear stains he rearranged the cap so that it sat straight on her head. “Perhaps you should rest until dinner.”
“Rest?” Her eyes flashed angrily. “Do you think I am so poor-spirited and weak that I need to rest because I have been bumped about a bit? I am so relieved to be out of my room for a change that I have not the least intention of returning there until I retire for the night.”
“Perhaps you would care to show me about the estate, in that case."
“Not in that antiquated carriage, but I will ride with you if you give me a moment to change.”
“I have brought my curricle, Miss Forbes, so there is no need for you to return to your room to change.” His grin mocked her. “Of course, if you are eager to display your riding ability—”
“I am, you know, but I will be content to be driven. You must see the lovely mare Mr. Glover chose for me. At first I thought perhaps she would be too high-spirited for me, but she is so well mannered that I had not the least problem. Mr. Glover has stabled one of his own horses here for Phoebe, and protests that our exercising him is to his advantage. Everyone has been all that is good to us, sir. Mrs. Morgan treats me as mistress of the house and Betsey is the most extraordinary cook. No wonder your meals here were better than those you get at Huntley, in spite of the depressing condition of the kitchen.” They had arrived at the stables by this time and Glenna went first to the loose box where she had last seen the deer. “He is no longer here. Do you suppose they have released him?” Her disappointment was patent.
"I doubt it, as I saw him when I arrived,” Pontley returned dryly.
John emerged from the tackle room and, on Glenna’s question, assured her that the deer had no intention of deserting them as yet. “He’s followed Miss Thomas off to the parterre, ma’am. Tags along after her like a puppy and has as much mischief.” John turned to the viscount. “Not that I mind having him around, my lord. Still small enough to manage, you see, but the ladies should realize that he shan’t stay so forever.”
A sigh escaped Glenna. “I shall not be able to face venison again in my life. Perhaps,” she said with unusual humility, “you would consider having a deer park here, Lord Pontley.”
"I fear not, Miss Forbes, much as I hate to disappoint you. Will you show me your mare while John attends to the curricle?”
Glenna led him to the furthest loose box where a small chestnut mare thrust out her head to be welcomed. “Is she not beautiful? The only thing is, I do not think she would carry your weight, sir.” She moistened her lips nervously. “If...when I leave...you would consider allowing me to buy her from you?”
He glanced at her, surprised. “But she is yours. I had Glover buy her for you, and had no intention of keeping her here after you left.”
“I could not accept a gift from you.”
"She is not a gift, Miss Forbes. You have needed a horse for your activities here, and you have done far more than I ever anticipated. I owe you a good deal more than a horse, I dare say.”
"Nonsense! I have done my best to fulfill the obligation you gave me. If we were not so lacking in knowledge, both of us, it would surely have been easier. But your provision of a home for me was your only share of the bargain.”
“I have no intention of standing here arguing with you. The horse is yours.” He turned abruptly and left her.
Glenna stroked the sleek neck fondly. “Very well then, I shall keep you, my pretty. He is a stubborn, opinionated man and deserves to be out of pocket for you.” She meekly joined the viscount and allowed him to hand her, gently this time, into the curricle. There were the gardening improvements to be shown him, and the opportunity arose to introduce him to the gamekeeper, a young man whose youth startled him.
When they had driven on he remarked, “Surely that fellow cannot be above eighteen, Miss Forbes. Did Glover find him?”
“Well, no, but he was willing to take him on for a trial period, and he has proved an excellent find.”
“Just where did you locate him, Miss Forbes?”
“I was told of his plight in one of the villages. His father, it seems, was a poacher who had drowned recently, leaving a large family in grave poverty.” Glenna forestalled his protest by continuing, “There is nothing dishonest about young Jed. Mr. Glover has kept a careful eye on him and sings his praises. Rather than wages, we have allocated a large cottage to him and enough game to feed the family. Also, he is permitted a certain percentage of the money he receives for the game he sells. He seems more than satisfied with the arrangement and he and his brothers have put the cottage into a state of repair which can only enhance your property.”
“You took a chance in hiring him.”
“Only a small, calculated risk, sir. Before ever I met him I knew a great deal of his background, and that he was as unlike his father as day and night. If you have any hesitancy, you must speak with Mr. Glover.”
“I am not questioning your choice, merely interested in it.” Pontley turned his head to bestow a smile on her. “You are forever mocking me about seeing things in terms of a naval campaign, ma’am, but you seem to have attacked the problems at Manner with a similar strategy which I can but admire.”
Glenna was inexplicably confused by his approval, and disconcerted by his warm smile. Not often had she evoked it, with the deepening of the cleft in his chin and the lightening of his brown eyes. "Thank you. You are too generous.”
Unaware that he did so, he drew the team to a halt and continued to stare at the puffy face beside him until Glenna felt most uncomfortable. She timidly touched a swollen cheek and murmured, “Is something the matter? Oh, Lord, it has become all blotchy again, hasn’t it?”
“No,” he assured her as he gently touched the tender flesh. “It appalls me that you should suffer so in endeavoring to help me.”
She sat very still as his fingers passed soothingly over her face. “It—it will be gone in a few days now, and it was through no fault of yours that I conceived such a singularly unpropitious scheme. There are any number of people in the village who keep bees. I had no way of knowing that I was sensitive to the sting.”
“How did you come to be stung?” He continued to trace the curve of her cheek.
Glenna swallowed nervously. “We—we were all stung. Peter accidentally knocked over the hive. I think that is why he is so upset to see me."
Recalled by the mention of Westlake’s name, Pontley removed his hand from her face, but showed no sign of unease over his action. “It is reassuring to know that he is as clumsy as I.”
Somehow it was impossible to reply to him and Glenna watched bemusedly as he casually urged the horses forward. She should have rejected his touch, of course, but he had meant no harm, had in fact been excessively tender. There was no time when she was not aware of the controlled strength of him, and his concern was touching. For it
was
only concern—had he not easily returned to his horses? Was he not even now discussing estate matters as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened? He had no idea that he had done something unacceptable, she supposed, and then wondered why she should consider it unacceptable. Was there anything so wrong in his touching her swollen face? She should be grateful that he did not show any horror of her disfigurement, as Peter did. With an effort she forced herself to attend to what he was saying, and make suitable replies.
In the midst of explaining to her the plans he had for Huntley, he broke off to ask bluntly, “Why is it you call him Peter, but use my title?”
“Why...I don’t know.” He did not look at her and she clasped her hands together firmly in her lap. “I suppose it is because you have never called me Glenna.”
“If I did, would you call me Philip?”
“If you wish me to, I suppose there can be nothing wrong in it, though I can see no reason for you to do so. And—and it might seem strange to the staff, you know.”
“You would rather I didn’t.”
“I—I think it might be
best
if you didn’t, though I have no objection for myself, you understand.”
“Oh, yes, I understand.” He made no further reference to the matter, but proceeded with his description of Huntley, apparently unmoved by the few exchanged words. When he assisted her from the curricle at the stables he merely commented, “I hope you will be joining us for dinner, Miss Forbes.”
“I think I shall.”
"Good. I will see you then.” He strolled into the stables with a negligent wave of his hand and was soon in deep conversation with John.
Chapter 9
Glenna made her appearance in the drawing room before dinner, which was served each day at five. The days were growing shorter and cooler and there was a welcome blaze on the hearth. This had been one of the first rooms painted and the smell still clung to it, but Glenna had as yet not seen the work, having remained for the past week and a half in self-imposed exile. She was satisfied with her inspection, as Phoebe had assured her she would be. The painted medallions on the ceiling had been cleaned and their earthy colors echoed in the faintest of tones on the walls. On the mantel the carved lyres had been made beautifully visible once again with a coat of white paint, and the Greek frieze likewise took on a crisp new character.
"Very nice,” Glenna murmured. “The only problem is that the carpet and floor look so much shabbier in contrast, to say nothing of the furniture. Remind me, Phoebe...“ She caught sight of Pontley in the doorway and ceased speaking.
He nodded to the assembled company before making a minute inspection of the room. “I had no idea it was so handsome an apartment, and I must congratulate you on your choice of colors, Miss Forbes. If every room could be so transformed…”