Francesca Shaw - The Unconventional Miss Dane Read online

  "No need, we can manage if you only keep them at your sides," he remarked dispassionately before bending his head to kiss her.

  His mouth was moving around the curve of her upper lip, gently nibbling. Antonia gasped with the intimate shock of the sensation, but made no attempt to break free. When he reached the full softness of her lower lip she capitulated utterly, tipping her face trustingly upwards. His hands still held hers captive at her sides, which made the embrace seem even more shocking and disturbing.

  Marcus murmured into her hair, "I must come night fishing again; I would never imagine I would catch such a prize."

  "Marcus, I am not a fish!" she protested into his coat front, but it was only the mildest of' reproofs. She had no desire to move out of the circle of his arms, away from his warmth and the strength that was evident even through the fine cloth of his coat. Did she feel like this because it was Marcus who was holding her, she wondered, or was it moon madness?

  He sighed, his breath stirring the fine hair at her temple. "Agreeable as I find this, we cannot stand out here all night, Antonia. What will the redoubtable Miss Donaldson think has become of you?"

  "Nothing, I trust," replied Antonia, trying not to feel disappointed as he turned from her to collect up her 'fishing tackle and lantern. "She was asleep when I left, and I hope she still is."

  He took her arm, guiding her solicitously over the tussocky grass of the still-untamed pleasure grounds. "Then you came fishing on a whim?

  What an extraordinary young woman you are." The lantern was attracting small moths, which rose from the lawn at their feet so that they appeared to be walking in a ~small cloud.

  "We cannot live on game alone; I thought fish would be a welcome variation." She glanced at him see how he took this reference to her licensed 'poachers'.

  '1 am not going to rise to your bait, Antonia; and I am tired. I am resolved not to mention your ers again, unless we find any on my land---not that I am happy with the example you are setting. But why do not set that lad of yours to fishing? He has no doubt been doing it in my rivers half his life. "

  So, he had decided to let that quarrel lie, she mused.

  Still, that did not explain why he had so unexpectedly come to her aid with the banker. "It sounds dangerously as if you are resigned to my remaining at Rye End Hall, my lord."

  He stopped and looked at her, a glint that was not all amusement in his eye. "Take care, Antonia. You may have a penchant for angling, but do not try to fish for my motives. I told you I would not discuss them, that day in Berkhamsted."

  Antonia was not so easily discouraged. "Come, my lord, 'twos less than a week before that that you were violently opposed to our remaining here and wished to buy my lands. Are you no longer interested in acquiring them?"

  Marcus tucked her hand under his arm once more and carried on towards the house. "There is more than one way to skin a cat, Antonia," he remarked casually, smiling faintly at her answering snort of exasperation. "Now, which door did you come out by? "

  "The side door--it is unlocked."

  Marcus looked at her in surprise. "Really, Antonia, have you no care for burglars? You truly are the most extraordinary woman I have ever encountered."

  "If we-are to talk of extraordinary behaviours, Marcus, why are you out at this hour? Why, it must be all of half past two."

  "A card party at Sir George Dover's. It was such a pleasant evening I walked over." He named a near neighbour of hers whose wife had already made her call of courtesy. "As you say, the hour is late. Goodnight, Antonia." He lifted her hand, kissing the back of her wrist, well away from her fish-scaled fingers, and strode off along the footpath into the moonlight towards Brightshill.

  A short while later, Antonia snuggled down in her bed and thought back on that extraordinary encounter. There was no doubting she had behaved most improperly, moonlight or not, but she could not regret allowing Marcus to kiss her.

  Her fingers, now mercifully free of fish, strayed to her lips, tracing where his mouth had roamed. Surely he was not simply toying with her affections? There was no denying that her affections were engaged, and he was a gentleman, after all. Yet that casual remark about skinning cats, his refusal to discuss his motives for helping her with the loan~ hose nagged at the back of her mind. She had refused to sell him her lands had he now some other ploy in mind?

  Chapter Five

  "Oh, Donna! Mr. Blake writes to say they are most interested in my description of the property and my ~pro, posais!"

  Antonia way~l two sheets of hot-pressed notepaper at Miss Donaldson, who put down her needlework and asked placidly, "Do you refer to your answer to the advertisement in The Times? Do stop jigging around the room, my dear, and let me see..." :

  Antonia, her eyes-shining, whirled to a halt on the newly cleaned salon carpet and handed the letter to her companion. "I am so relieved!" she exclaimed. "After putting all this work in hand, I must admit to a severe apprehension that we would not find a tenant willing to take it."

  "I, too," Miss Donaldson confessed, smoothing out the sheets to con them again. "After all, it is almost four weeks since you wrote. So much money has been spent--although I must say it is most pleasant to be able to sit in here, instead of sharing the kitchen with Mrs. Brown, especially now the weather is so clement."

  They both turned to look from the wide bay window across the green swathe of lawn, finally responding to Old Johnson's frequent scything.

  The fine weather had allowed the workmen to complete almost all their work on the Hall; tomorrow, they would commence the smaller task of making the Dower House habitable again.

  The river glinted in the sunlight, recalling her moonlight encounter with Marcus Arlington. Antonia straggled to suppress the nagging feeling of disappointment that struck her every time she thought of that incident. She had honestly expected Marcus to call again, to start wooing her.

  She had teased herself, wondering if he w~interested in her for herself or her property, and then had felt most disheartened on learning that his lordship ~ left for London the following day. She told herself that it would teach her not to jump to conclusions, or indeed, flatter herself that a man like Marcus would have serious intentions towards someone with no fortune, no sophistication, no experience. "Are you attending, my dear?" Miss Donaldson had obviously been speaking for some minutes. Antonia recalled herself and apologised. "I was saying that this Mr. Blake states here his intention of calling the day after tomorrow unless he hears to the contrary. I do believe we should send a positive response today, for we are quite ready to receive him."

  "You are correct; it would create a good impression and it is important that he convince his principal that this property is right for him."

  Antonia felt far from confident that she could negotiate the lease successfully. She had still not 'told Donna that it was only with Marcus's intervention that the hank loan had been granted. By herself, she had failed utterly with

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  Mr. Pethybridge; Mr. Jeremy Blake was probably cut from the same cloth. And this time she could hardly call on Lord Arlington to negotiate on her behalf, even if he had been at Brightshill.

  Two days later Miss Donaldson was flitting around with a duster polishing wood that already gleamed and driving Antonia to distraction.

  She was nervous enough about their visitor as it was. "Please, Donna, come and sit down. Mr. Blake is due at any moment and you are quite flushed. Oh, listen! is that a chaise I hear now?"

  Donna thrust the duster under the sofa cushions and patted her hair firmly under her cap. Antonia smoothed out the folds of her only respectable morning dress and cast a hasty glance in-the over mantel mirror. She felt confident her appearance would impress an elderly lawyer: her unruly dark hair was caught back smoothly under a dark ribbon, her high-necked dress was trimmed chastely at collar and cuff with Brussels lace and her only ornaments were a good amber set inherited from her mother~

  She turned as their newly appointed maidservant announc
ed, "Mr. Blake, ma,am."

  A man scarcely older than herself stood on the threshold of the salon.

  Mr. Blake was a pleasant-looking gentleman with a cheerful, plain face, neatly trimmed brown hair and immaculately fashionable, if sober, clotheng. A far cry, indeed, from the dessicated lawyer they had been expecting. And if the ladies were surprised, so too was Mr. Blake. He was not quite quick enough to conceal the look of, first, surprise and then pleasure as he took in the striking young lady stepping forward to greet him.

  From the cool formality of the letter Miss Dane had written him, Mr.

  Blake had expected to find a formidable spinster of indeterminate age.

  Instead, he was confronted by an elegant young woman dressed with stylish severity. She was not quite in the established mode, being too tall and willowy, to say nothing of being a brunette when the fashion was for blondes, but to him she appeared entirely admirable.

  He schooled his face and took her proffered hand as she greeted him.

  "Good day, Mr. Blake, I trust you had a pleasant journey from Town."

  "Thank you, ma'am. I spent the night in Berkhamsted at the White Hart in tolerable comfort.,

  "May I present my companion, Miss Donaldson." This lady was more in the style Jeremy had been expecting. He exchanged polite bows with Donna and accepted both the seat and the cup of tea that were offered

  "I realise you have only had the most cursory of first impressions of Rye End Hall," Antonia said, attempting to sound unconcerned, 'but may I ask if this is the sort of property your principal is seeking? "

  "Yes, indeed," Mr. Blake said warmly, then recollected himself, adding more coolly, "That is to say, the location is precisely what Sir Josiah desires, and the house appears charming."

  "Sir Josiah?"

  "I think there is no harm in my revealing that resent Sir Josiah Finch, who returned from the East Indies some twelve months ago and is now desirous of settling in this area from whence his family originated."

  "How very interesting; no doubt he will find the countryside hereabouts a great contrast to the Indies!"

  They continued to exchange pleasantries whilst the tea was drank.

  Antonia talked on, not showing by a whir her instinct that Mr. Blake was not only very favourably disposed towards the Hall, but also towards herself. it was very gratifying to feel one was admired, and she was enjoying the respectful admiration in Mr. Blake's eyes.

  "Another cup of tea, Mr. Blake? No?" Antonia rose to her feet. "Then may I conduct you on a tour of Rye End Hall?"

  As they crossed the hall, Antonia paused to allow him time to observe its proportions before she asked, "Are you well acquainted with Sir Josiah?"

  "Indeed, I am, Miss Dane, we are related by marriage." '1 asked, for I was wondering if he intended bringing his family; there is ample accommodation. "

  "Sir Josiah is married--Lady Finch is my aunt--but alas, they are without surviving children; the Indies are a cruel place for those of tender years."

  Out of the corner of her eye, as she murmured words of regret, Antonia was aware of Donna slipping back into the salon, no doubt to peruse the pages of Burke'. s Landed Gentry for the records of the Finch family.

  Such a connection would explain Mr. Blake's air of easy good breeding.

  And, Antonia mused, it should also make negotiations much simpler; no doubt he was fully in his uncle's confidence and would be able to make decisions without constant reference to his principal.

  Mr. Blake proved to be an undemanding visitor, although he made frequent notes in his notebook. He admired the number and proportions of the rooms, commented favourably upon the domestic arrangements and was fully in accord with their decision not to decorate extensively.

  "Sir Josiah will be bringing a considerable collection of Oriental furnishings and art works," he explained as they descended the staircase. "And he will wish to hang some very fine Chinese wallpapers, if that is acceptable to you, Miss Dane?"

  "Oh, certainly, I would have no objection. You sound as though you have already resolved to recommend Rye End Hall to Sir Josiah," Antonia commented, attempting to conceal the eagerness in her voice.

  "I think it would suit them admirably," Mr. Blake began, 'but the final decision is, of course, Sir Josiah's." he' added with a sudden return to lawyer-like caution.

  "Would you care to take a little luncheon before seeing the pleasure grounds and Home Farm?" Antonia offered, determined to remain cool and businesslike, but quite unable to hide the pleasure and relief that flooded through her at his positive words.

  Jeremy Blake blinked at the-radiant smile which illuminated Antonia's face, transforming her from a cool and severe lady into a charming and vivacious girl. There and then he determined that not only was Sir Josiah going to lease Rye End Hall, but that he would make every effort to provoke Miss Dane into smiling at him like that again.

  Miss Donaldson had left off from her scanning of Burke's long enough to order up a light collation to. be served in the breakfast room.

  Antonia would have wished that the smell of beeswax polish was not quite so obvious, bespeaking as it did all the hard work and hope which had gone into preparing the house for this visit. Fortunately, Mr.

  Blake seemed oblivious to such details of housekeeping.

  "Most eligible ... extremely well connected," Donna hissed excitedly in Antonia's ear as they entered the room. "I have marked the page..."

  "Donna ... shh! Do take this seat, Mr. Blake, it affords a fine view down to the river."

  "That puts me in mind of another question I must ask--thank you, ma'am, cold pigeon would be most acceptable--is the fishing good? And do you intend to retain the rights?"

  To both his, and Miss Donaldson's, astonishment, Antonia blushed to the roots of her dark hair. Mr. Blake frantically scanned his memory to find what he could have said to produce such a reaction while Antonia recollected herself hastily. "I believe there are perch, but I really cannot say. I have no intention of keeping the fishing rights, none at all."

  Her vehemence was as puzzling as her confusion-and she was very aware of Miss Donaldson's beady regard. She must pull herself together, Stop falling into daydreams and reveries every time anyone mentioned the river. A sensible woman would conclude that, despite his dalliance on the river bank, Lord Allington's absence was a clear signal that the incident meant nothing to him. She became aware that Mr. Blake was speaking again and remarked hastily, "And no doubt pike are common."

  "In the stables?" Miss Donaldson interjected. "Antonia dear, you have lost the thread of the conversation, we were speaking of accommodation for Sir Josiah's carriage horses."

  "I am so sorry. A syllabub, Mr. Blake, or can I tempt you with a jelly?"

  "Either, Miss Dane," the lawyer responded warmly, causing Donna to cast up her eyes. The man appeared to be highly attracted to dear Antonia, which; considering his most eligible connections, was not to be discouraged. On the other hand, she had entertained hopes of Lord Arlington, but that unfortunate disagreement over the poaching appeared to have driven him away. An hour later, only the stables remained to be inspected. Mr. Blake expressed his intention of setting forth immediately and set his groom to hitching up his pair while he looked around.

  "I hope to regain London tonight and speak to Sir Josiah tomorrow morning," he explained as they emerged' from the carriage house into the sunlight once more. "You will be very late, surely?" Antonia queried.

  "I shah change horses at Stanmore and expect to make good time. Sir Josiah is impatient when it comes to matters of business--he will expect a prompt report."

  "May I enquire if you are still of a positive mind in recomending this house to Sir Josiah?" Antonia crossed her fingers in the folds of her skirts as she ventured the question.

  "Let me just say that I shall ask the name and direction of your man of business before I leave," Mr. Blake replied, pencil poised over his notebook.

  Antonia dictated the details and London address, making a me
ntal note to write with all dispatch to Mr. Cooke at Gray's Inn, who would otherwise be deeply confused to receive such an approach from Mr.

  Blake.

  She was slightly taken aback at the sight of Mr. Blake's conveyance, a rakish sporting curricle pulled by a pair of handsome matched bays. She had expected a lawyer to be driven in a closed carriage, not to be tooling himself down the highway. But then, Mr. Jeremy Blake was most un lawyerlike in many respects.

  "Well, I must thank you for your hospitality, Miss Dane, Miss Donaldson," Mr. Blake began, taking Antonia's hand in his and looking into her hazel eyes warmly. "And I hope to be able to give you an answer within a few days..."

  He was in mid-sentence, Antonia's hand still clasped in his own, when, with a flurry of hooves on the gravel, Marcus Arlington cantered into the stableyard astride a rakish chestnut. He reined in hard, but not before the carriage horses shied in alarm, the groom running to their heads.

  Mr. Blake immediately stepped between the ladies and the horses, glaring with unconcealed annoyance at the source of-the intrusion.