aYou certainly enjoyed yourself with all the young ladies last eveninga she said. aThey would have been perfectly happy if there had been no other gentlemen present.a aI did,a he admitted, turning the curricle onto the fork of the lane that led directly to the village with hands that looked very skilled indeed on the ribbons. aEnjoy myself, that is. It is a pleasure, you know, to listen to young ladies chatter and to turn the pages of their music when one knows that doing so makes them happy. But your barbed tongue was at work again, was it not? Would they have been happy with only me? I doubt it. Miss Calvert would not have been happy if Finn had not been there. Perhaps you did not notice that she spent some time in his company? And Miss Krebbs was very happy indeed when Moss asked her to reserve a set for him at the a.s.semblya"so happy that she allowed him to fill a plate for her at supper and sit beside her. Miss Jane Calvert would have spent a less enjoyable evening if she had not had the Reverend Birney in her sights for most of the time. And you would have sat all alone for an hour if Dannen had not been there.a aMr. Dannen was the host,a she protested. aBesides, I was not talking of myself.a aAnd as a final word in my defense,a he said, ait might be pointed out that all the gentlemen had an equal opportunity to gather at the pianoforte and turn pages of music.a She could not think of an answer to that one.
aIs this a racing curricle?a she asked.
aThe thing is, you see,a he said, athat no self-respecting gentleman below the age of thirty would want to purchase for himself a curricle that could not race.a aAnd I suppose,a she said, ayou do race in it?a aNow what would be the point,a he asked her, ain owning a racing curricle if all one did with it was crawl about country lanes as I am doing now?a aIs this crawling?a she asked. She had been finding the speed exhilarating and had been feeling very daring indeed.
aMy poor chestnuts,a he said, awill never forgive me for the indignity of this journey.a She laughed.
He turned his head again to smile down at her.
aWhat?a he said. aI am not about to find myself at the receiving end of a lecture about the danger of risking my neck and those of my horses by dashing fruitlessly along the kingas highway merely for the sake of winning a race? The last one, by the way, was from London to Brighton, and honesty forces me to confess that I lost it by a longish nose.a aWhy should it concern me,a she asked him, aif you risk your neck?a aNow that, Miss...o...b..urne,a he said, awas unkind.a aI suppose,a she said wistfully, ait is the most glorious feeling in the world to fly along as fast as your horses can gallop.a Or simply to fly. She had a recurring dream in which she was a bird, free to soar into the blue and ride the wind.
aI have a curious suspicion,a he said, athat my first impressions of you were quite, quite inaccurate, Miss...o...b..urne.a His words jolted her into a realization that she had actually been talking with hima"and even rather enjoying herself. And already they were pa.s.sing through the village. They were halfway to Miss Honeydewas cottage.
aYour silence speaks loudly and accusingly,a he said as he touched his whip to the brim of his hat and she raised her free hand to wave to Mr. Calvert, who was walking along the village street in the direction of his home. aObviously you believe that your first impressions of me were accurate.a Did she? He enjoyed spending his time flirting with young ladies. He owned a racing curricle and had raced it all the way from London to Brighton. She had seen nothing that suggested there was any substance to his charactera"though he had sat with Miss Honeydew last evening and been kind to her.
aYou still dislike me,a he said with a sigh, though it seemed to her that he was amused rather than upset in any way.
aI do nota"a she began.
aAh, but I believe you do,a he said. aDo you not teach your pupils that it is wicked to lie? Is it something about my looks?a aYou know very well,a she said sharply, athat your looks are perfect.a It was only after the words were out that she wished, wished, wished that she could recall them. Goodness, she must sound like a besotted schoolgirl.
aOh, I say,a he said, laughing, ais that true? My eye color is not effeminate?a aYou know very well it is not,a she said indignantly. How had the conversation suddenly taken this uncomfortably personal turn?
aI have a cousin,a he told her, awho has the same color eyes. I have always thought they look so much more appropriate on her.a aI would not know,a she said, asince I do not know the lady.a aIt is not my looks, then,a he said, aunless you happen to have a bias against perfection. There would be little logic in that, though. It must be my character, then.a aI do not dislike you,a she protested. aThere is nothing I find objectionable about your charactera"except that you do not take anything seriously.a aThat,a he said, ais very akin to those annoying p.r.o.nouncements with which certain people preface nasty remarks: aI do not wish to be critical, old chap, butaa Ah, the condemnation in that but. And in your except that. You think me a shallow man, then.a The words had not been phrased as a question, but he was waiting for an answer. Well, she was not going to deny it merely because good manners suggested that she ought. He had asked.
aYes, my lord,a she said, gazing along the road and wondering when Miss Honeydewas cottage would come into view. aI do.a aI suppose,a he said, ayou would not believe me if I told you I sometimes entertain a serious thought or two and that I am not entirely shallow?a She hesitated.
aIt would be presumptuous of me to call you a liar,a she said.
aWhy?a He had dipped his head even closer to hers so that for a moment before he returned his attention to the road she could feel his breath on her cheek.
aBecause I do not know you,a she said.
aAh,a he said. aWhat would you say, Miss...o...b..urne, if I told you that despite my admission of a moment ago, I still think you beautiful beyond belief but also harsh in your judgments and without feelings, incapable of deep affection or love?a She bristled.
aI would say that you know nothing about me or my life,a she said, trying in vain to move farther to her side of the seat.
aPrecisely,a he said, a note of satisfaction in his voice. aWe do not know each other at all, do we? How do you know that I am not worth knowing? How do I know that you are?a She gripped the rail beside her more tightly.
aBut surely,a she said, awe have no wish to know each other anyway. And so the answers to your questions do not matter.a aBut they do to me,a he said. aI certainly wish to know who Miss Susanna Osbourne is. I very much wish it, especially after discovering the surprising fact that she would love to race to Brighton in a curricle. That I would not have guessed about you in a thousand years.a aI would nota"a she began.
aToo late,a he said. aYou have already admitted it in so many words. I have a strong suspicion that you might be interesting to know. And I feel the need to be known, to justify my existence to someone who believes me to be worthless.a aThat is not what I said!a she cried. aI would never say such a thing to anyone. But do you feel such a need with all the ladies you meet? Do you feel the need to know and make yourself known to the Misses Calvert and Miss Krebbs and Miss Raycroft?a aGood Lord, no,a he said, and laughed.
aWhy me, then?a she asked, turning her head to frown at him. aOnly because I do not respond to your flatteries as other women do?a aThat is a possibility, I suppose,a he admitted. aBut I hope there is another. There is a gravity about you when you are not laughing at the danger and exhilaration of riding in a curricle. I suspect thata"horror of horrorsa"it stems from superior intelligence. Are you an intelligent woman, Miss...o...b..urne?a aHow am I to answer that?a she asked him in further exasperation.
aIt is one of the things I need to discover about you,a he said. aThe Countess of Edgecombe has invited you here out of friendship, not obligationa"or so I have been led to believe. The countess is a woman of intelligence. I would imagine that her friends must be intelligent too. And of course you are a teacher and must have an impressive store of knowledge rattling around in your brain. But I need to discover for myself if I am right.a She was speechless. And the reality of the situation suddenly hit her. It must be realitya"none of her muddled and troubled dreams last night had conjured quite this scenario. Here she was talking quite freely with Viscount Whitleaf of all people and actually rather enjoying herself.
aDo you think, Miss...o...b..urne,a he asked her, awe could be friends if we tried very hard? Shall we try?a She stared at his face in profile. But she could see no mockery there.
aIt is not possible, even if you are serious,a she said. aWe are from different worldsa"almost from different universes. Besides, men and women do not become friends with each other even if they are of the same world.a aYou had better not tell Edgecombe or the countess that,a he said, raising his eyebrows. aNevertheless, I might have agreed with you until yesterday. I am not in the habit of making friends of any of the women I have known. But you refuse to allow me to flirt with you, you see, and so you leave me with no alternative but to befriend you.a aOr to ignore me,a she said sharply.
aThat is not an option,a he told her, and he grinned.
aThis is absurd,a she said. aUtterly absurd.a aThen humor me,a he said. aWill you? Will you allow me to try to be your friend even if you will not be mine? I really do not think I can wax eloquent about the weather alone for twelve more days.a She laughed unexpectedly. At the same moment she was aware that the curricle had slowed and looked up in some surprise to see that they had arrived at Miss Honeydewas cottage.
aAh.a He turned his head to look intently at her. aThis is better. You are laughing again. I have been leading upa"againa"to asking you what it is about teaching that you so love. Buta"yet againa"our arrival at a destination has thwarted me. You will give me the answer, if you please, during the return journey.a aLord Whitleaf,a she said as he jumped down from his seat and looped the ribbons over the top bar of a painted white fence that surrounded the garden, ayou can have no possible interest in my teaching career.a He raised both arms and lifted her to the ground before she could think of looking for safe foot- and handholds. He made her feel as if she weighed no more than a feather. He also made her feel as if she were running a slight fever.
aAnd you, Miss...o...b..urne,a he said, keeping his hands on either side of her waist, acan have no idea what would interest me. Can you?a He waited for her answer.
aNo,a she admitted.
He grinned at her and released her.
They both turned to greet Miss Honeydew, who had come to the front door to hail them. She was dressed in what was very obviously her Sunday best, and she was glowing with happiness.
Susanna was terribly afraid that Frances might be wrong after all. She was terribly afraid that Viscount Whitleaf might be very dangerous indeed.
5.
After the first flurry of greetings was overa"they must have lasted a good fifteen minutes, by Peteras estimationa"he went back outside to tend his curricle and his horses. Then, having discovered several loose boards in the fence but no handyman on the premises, he went in search of a hammer and nails, found them in the stable that doubled as a garden shed, left his coat there, and made the repairs himself despite the fact that the housekeeper gawked at him as if he were the unfortunate possessor of two heads when she came to the door to see what was creating the noise.
And then, because a scruffy little terrier dog had barked incessantly at him since his arrival and danced about him and even attempted to nip his wrists and ankles until informed that it would do so at its own peril, he decided that the animal needed more exercise than a prowl about the garden provided. He found an old leather leash in the shed, brushed it free of cobwebs, attached it to the dog, and took it for a brisk walk along some narrow country lanes until, on the way back to the cottage, he removed the leash so that it could dash about in all directions, beside itself with exuberant glee at discovering such wide open s.p.a.ces and the freedom to explore them.
The stable, which had been built to accommodate three horses and a small carriage, would only just take his two horses. The curricle had to remain outside. Peter set about tidying the area and creating more s.p.a.ce. And then, because the new s.p.a.ce looked as if it had not seen either a broom or a pail of water in some time, he gave it both before spreading some fresh, clean-smelling straw, which he had found piled up behind the building.
By the time he entered the house by the kitchen door, he was feeling grubby and sweaty and really rather pleased with life. This was turning into the most pleasant afternoon he had spent since coming to Hareford House.
He washed his hands and his arms up to the elbows in water the fl.u.s.tered housekeeper poured for him, rolled down his shirtsleeves, and shrugged back into his coata"not an easy task without the a.s.sistance of his valeta"and stepped into the sitting room, where Miss...o...b..urne was reading aloud but quietly while Miss Honeydew sat in a chair nearby, her head resting against the cushioned back, her eyes closed, her cap askew, her mouth wide open, snoring softly.
His eyes met Miss...o...b..urneas.
He stepped back out into the corridor, cleared his throat, scuffed his boots on the wood floor, called out a second, more effusive thank-you to the housekeeper for the water, and reappeared in the doorway.
Miss...o...b..urne was closing the book and Miss Honeydew was sitting erect and wide awake. She was straightening her cap and beaming with happiness.
aWhat a wonderful reading voice you have for sure, Miss...o...b..urne,a she said. aI could listen to you all day long. And how splendid to have two young persons come to tea. I do hope the afternoon has not been a tedious one for you, Lord Whitleaf, though I daresay it has. I cannot tell you how much your kindness and Miss...o...b..urneas has meant to me. You must both be ready for your tea.a aIt has not been a tedious afternoon by any means, maaam,a he said, seating himself. aI was thinking to myself only a few moments ago that I have enjoyed this afternoon more than any other since I came into Somerset.a aOh, what a rascal you are!a Miss Honeydew clapped her hands with glee and laughed heartily.
Susanna Osbourne looked back at him reproachfully.
aYou will surely fry for your sins,a she told him an hour later after they had waved good-bye to Miss Honeydew in the doorway of her cottage and were on their way back to Barclay Court. aThe most enjoyable afternoon of your stay here indeed! I heard you hammering at the fence, and the housekeeper came and whispered to me that you were cleaning out the stable and wanted to know what she ought to do about it.a aI took the mutt for a run too,a he said with a chuckle. aI thought its yapping might well drive you insane.a aWhy did you do it all?a she asked, sounding rather cross.
aBecause I cannot stand being idle?a he said. aBut no, you would not believe that, would you? You believe me to be nothing but idle. Perhaps I wished to impress you.a aAnd you flattered Miss Honeydew without ceasing for almost an hour,a she said. aShe was delighted even though she did not believe a word you said. She will doubtless live on the memory for days or weeks to come.a aIs there anything wrong with that?a he asked her. aShe is lonely, is she not?a aThere is nothing wrong with it,a she said, still sounding cross. aYou are kind. You are very kind.a Ah, she was cross because she had been proved at least partly wrong about him, was she?
aBut frivolous and idle too,a he said, realizing suddenly that the elusive perfume he had tried to identify all the way to the cottage was not perfume at all but soap. It was very enticing nevertheless. So were the soft warmth of her thigh and her arm.
She did not reply and he chuckled.
aIt is quite unsporting of you not to contradict me, Miss...o...b..urne,a he said. aShall we use the return journey to discover if there is anything about each other that might make it possible for us to be friends?a aOr impossible,a she said.
aI perceive,a he said, athat you are of the half-empty-gla.s.s school of thought, Miss...o...b..urne, while I am of the half-full school.a aThen we are quite incompatible,a she said.
aNot necessarily so,a he said. aSome differences of opinion will provide us with topics upon which to hold a lively debate. There is nothing more dull than two people who are so totally in agreement with each other upon every subject under the sun that there really is nothing left worth saying.a But why the devil it had popped into his head earlier and even last evening that he wanted her as a friend, he had no idea. Except that he knew he could not make her into a flirt, perhaps. She would not allow ita"and neither would he. He would flirt with his social equals, with those who knew the rules of the game. He would not flirt with an indigent schoolteachera"she had been a charity pupil at the school where she now taught, for the love of G.o.da"whom he might inadvertently hurt.
But he could not simply ignore her. Good Lord, what was it he had thought two days ago when he first set eyes on her?
There she is.
The words still puzzled him and made him strangely uneasy.
It would be a novel challenge to try again to make a friend of a young womana"one who did not particularly like him and one who claimed that they were closer to being universes apart than worlds.
Well, challenges were meant to brighten the dull routine of life.
Not that routine was always dull. Sometimes he longed for it. It was what he had grown up with and expected of the rest of his lifea"a quiet routine, a fulfillment of duty that was self-imposed rather than enforced from above as it had been all through his boyhood. He had expected very little of his life reallya"only a sort of heaven of home and hearth and domestic contentment. Most of his current friends would cringe if they knew that of him. Even Raycroft, his closest friend, would be astonished.
aTell me what you like so much about teaching,a he said.
He felt rather than saw her smile.
aIt is something I am capable of doing well,a she said, aand something I can constantly work upon to improve. It is something useful and worthwhile.a aEducating girls is worthwhile?a he asked only because he guessed the question would provoke her into saying more.
aGirls have minds just as boys do,a she said firmly, aand are just as hungry for knowledge and just as capable of learning and understanding. It is true that most of them grow up to lives in which they do not need to know very much at all, but then I suspect that holds true of most men too.a aLike me?a he asked.
aI believe there is a saying,a she said tartly, athat if the shoe fits one ought to wear it.a He chuckled softly.
aBut most men would argue,a he said, athat educating girls gives them brain fever at worst and makes them unattractive at best. Or perhaps I have got the worst and the best mixed up.a aI daresay,a she said, athose men are insecure in their masculinity and fear that women may outshine them. How mortifying it would be if they had to ask a woman for the square root of eighty-one.a She was a delight. He had already seen several different facets of her character, but he could always rely upon the prim schoolteacher to keep making an appearance. The square root of eighty-one, indeed!
aOuch!a he said, wincing noticeably. aBut would there ever be such an occasion? I cannot for the life of me think of one. What is the square root of eighty-one anyway?a aNine,a they said in unison.
He laughed, and after a brief moment so did she.
He wondered if she realized what a dazzling combination laughter was with her looks. He wondered too how often she laughed. Perhaps it was more often than he had suspected the day before yesterday. Perhaps she brought light and joy to that school in Bath.
aBut that is not your cue,a he said, deliberately sobering, ato fire all sorts of obscure and tricky questions at me. My masculinity is a fragile enough commodity without being put to that sort of test.a aI doubt that,a she said fervently, and then laughed again when he looked at her sidelong and pulled an abject face.
He chuckled once more before turning into the lane from the village that would eventually bring them to the fork into Barclay Court. aAnd in case you are neglecting to ask for fear of the answer, Miss...o...b..urne, I detect no signs of brain fever in you, and you are certainly not unattractive. Quite the contrary, in fact.a aI would rather,a she said after a brief silence, athat you not try to flatter and flirt with me. You must speak sensibly with me if we are to be friends.a aWe are to be friends, then?a he asked her. aVery well. Let me be honest. You are quite devoid of any discernible attraction. A small, slender stature combined with shining auburn curls and sea green eyes and regular features is all quite unappealing, as I am sure you must be aware.a When he turned his head to s.n.a.t.c.h a look at her, she was smiling broadly and looking straight ahead.
aFriends need not be unaware of each otheras attractions,a he said. aTell me how you occupy your time when you are not teaching.a aYou do not know much about the world of employment, do you, Lord Whitleaf?a she asked. aThere is not much time that is not taken up with work. When I am not in the cla.s.sroom I am supervising games in the meadow beyond the school or organizing dramatic presentations or watching over the girls during study sessions or marking papers or examinations oraWell, there is almost always something to do. But when there is some leisure time, usually late in the evening, I spend it with my friends, the other resident teachers. We usually gather in Claudia Martinas sitting room. Or sometimes if it is daytime and there is the rare luxury of a spare hour I go out walking. Bath is a lovely city. There is much to see there.a Ah, yes, they were from different universes. But he admired her sense of purpose.
aNow it is your turn,a she said. aYou must tell me something of yourself.a aAre you sure you really wish to know about my idle, empty life?a he asked her, his eyes twinkling.
aYou were the one who thought there could be a friendship between us,a she reminded him. aThere can be no friendship if only one party gets to ask the questions. Tell me about your childhood.a aHmm.a He gave the matter some thought. aIt was filled with womena"a familiar pattern with me, Miss...o...b..urne. My father died when I was three years old. I have no memory of him, alas. I do think it unsporting of him not to have waited at least another two or three years. I was left with my mother and five elder sisters. I daresay my parents had despaired of producing an heir and were jubilant when I finally put in an appearance. By that time my sisters too must have been aware that a family without an heir was a family headed for certain disaster. And indeed I came along only just in time to avert it. I was the apple of every female eye as I grew up. I could do no wrong in their sight. I was petted and cosseted and adored. No boy was ever more fortunate than I.a She had turned her head and was looking steadily at him.
aThere was no man in your life, then?a she asked.
aOh, several,a he said. aThere were official guardians and self-appointed guardians, all of whom ruled my estate and my fortune and me and arranged everything from my education to the reading and answering of my mail. It was all done for my benefit, of course. I was very fortunate.a aI suppose,a she said, athey did no more than your father would have done if he had lived.a aExcept that then there would have been a relationship,a he said. aPerhaps there would have been some sharing. Some love.a He was turning at the fork in the lane as he spoke. Perhaps he would not have spoken so unguardedly if he had not been thus occupied. Good Lord, he did not usually even think such abject thoughts. He felt quite embarra.s.sed.
aYou missed your father,a she said softly.
He glanced down at her. aYou cannot miss what you never had, Miss...o...b..urne,a he said. aI do not even remember him.a aI missed my mother,a she told him. aYet she died giving birth to me.a Ah.
aIt is odd, is it not,a he said, ato miss people one never knewa"or knew so far back that there is no conscious memory left. I was inundated with love from my mother and sisters, and yet perversely I wanted a fatheras love. Did your father love you?a aOh, yes,a she said, abut I ached for my mother. I used to weave dreams about her. I could always picture her arms reaching out to me, and I could always hear her voice and smell roses when she was near. But I never could see her face. Is that not strange? Sometimes even the imagination lets one down. How foolish!a She looked away and fell silent, and it seemed to him that she was suddenly as embarra.s.sed as he had been a couple of minutes ago at making such an admission about the child she had been.
Neither of them said any more on the subjecta"they were approaching Barclay Court, and Edgecombe and the countess were walking across the lawn before the house to meet them.
But something subtle had changed between them, he sensed.
Perhaps everything.
They had shared something of themselves with each other and he would never be able to return to a relationship of simple banter with her. They had, in other words, taken a step toward friendship with each othera"as he had wanted. And yet the realization was slightly unsettling. Banter was safer. So was flirtation.
aMiss...o...b..urne,a he said as he drew the curricle to a halt just before the others came up to them, ais it possible for us to be friends, do you think?a aBut we are to be here for only twelve more days,a she said.
aYou brought her back in one piece, I see, Whitleaf,a Edgecombe said, striding up to the vehicle and reaching up a hand to help her down. aCongratulations. Frances would have been upset with you if you had not.a aAnd you are not looking nearly as frightened as you were when you left here, Susanna,a the countess said. aDid you enjoy the ride? And your visit?a Peter declined their invitation to go inside the house for refreshments. He would be expected back at Hareford House, he told them, and left after bidding them all a collective farewell.
This time, he noticed, Susanna Osbourne did not hurry into the house without a backward glance. She stood with the other two to watch him on his way.
He had also noticed she had not said that it was impossible for them to be friends.
Or that it would be possible either.
It struck him as he drove away that perhaps it would be better if she had protested. He was not at all sure that friendship was safe.
It was a surprise to Susanna to discover that she had actually enjoyed the afternoona"not just the part of it she had spent with Miss Honeydew, but all of it.
She was even more surprised to discover that she actually rather liked Viscount Whitleaf. He might be a basically shallow man who liked nothing better than to flirt with every woman he set eyes upon, but he also had a good sense of humor. More important, he was definitely a kind mana"and not totally indolent either. He had actually mended Miss Honeydewas fence and cleaned out her old stable. He had taken her bad-tempered little dog for a walk. He had been careful not to embarra.s.s her when he had discovered her asleep in her chair while Susanna was still reading to her. And then, at her urging, he had eaten three of the cakes she called her housekeeperas specialty even though it must have been clear to him after the first bite that they were undercooked and doughy at the center.
She had discovered when she had found herself quite unable to resist asking him about his childhood, just as if she knew nothing at all about it, that indeed he had been cosseted by his mother and all his sisters and ruled by his male guardians. He could not be blamed in any way, then, for what had happened to her father. And she could not blame him simply for having the name Whitleaf.
But despite the softening of her att.i.tude toward him, Susanna could not see any possibility of their becoming friends. It was an absurd idea. They had nothing whatsoever in common.
And yet the idea had a certain appeal. She had never had a male friend. Mr. Huckerby and Mr. Upton, the art master, were not quite friends, though they were colleagues with whom she shared a mutual respect. And Mr. Keeble was just a friendly acquaintance, a sort of father figure as he guarded the door of the school from every imaginable or imaginary wolf.
In the coming days she saw further evidence of Lord Whitleafas kindness. After dinner at the Raycroftsa one evening, he offered to take the one empty place at a card table that no one else seemed eager to fill even though he knew that his partner was to be old Mrs. Moss, who was deaf and indecisive and invariably played the wrong card when she did make a decision. And though the two of them lost all five of the hands they played, he succeeded in keeping everyone at the table amused and in convincing Mrs. Moss that it was his clumsy play that had ensured their defeat.
And when, after church on Sunday, Susanna overheard the vicar greet Miss Honeydew and tell her how gratifying it was to see her at church despite the rain that had been falling earlier, she also heard Miss Honeydew tell him that Viscount Whitleaf had brought a closed carriage to her cottage early enough that she had had time to get ready to come.
The Earl of Edgecombe told Frances and Susanna after he had taken Mr. Raycroft and the viscount on a tour of the home farm one morning that when they had pa.s.sed the laborersa cottages and he had stopped to call upon one of his men who had cut his hand rather badly the week before, the viscount had wandered off to talk with some of the wives who were outside their homes pegging out their washing, it being Monday and therefore laundry day. He had been discovered half an hour later, without his coat or hat, perched on a ladder held by one woman and two children and making an adjustment to a line that dragged too close to the ground when weighed down by wet clothes. All the neighborhood women and children had been gathered around, calling up advice.
aAnd of course,a the earl added, chuckling, athey were all gazing worshipfully up at him tooa"when he did not have them all doubled up with laughter, that was.a And he did not forget that he wanted to be Susannaas friend.
She saw him every day. They never spent longer than half an hour alone together at a timea"he was too discreet for that, and if he had not been, she would. She certainly did not want to arouse any gossip in the neighborhood. Nor did she want to make Frances uneasy. But almost always when they met he contrived to exchange a few private words with her or to take her apart from the company for a short while.