Read Online Love's Harbinger by Joan Smith - Free Book Online Page B

newspaper. “You are to go the next lap in Guy’s carriage, my dear. It is all arranged. And you must not pester him with conversation as he is in the throes of writing for his paper.” Then she put her hand on Faith’s arm and led her out before she could publicly vent her objections.
    Even before the carriage left the inn yard, Faith opened the paper and began to read it. Indeed she had brought it along for no other reason than to inhibit conversation if her aunt insisted on making her ride with Mr. Delamar. It was the Tory Times that she held in front of her. Being much less sly than her aunt, she intended no slur in this choice but only bought the paper her father always had in the house. The only sound within as the carriage drove through the little market town was the scratching of pencil on pad and the rustling of the newspaper. Faith glanced at an old church with perpendicular windows and a shingle spire but found it not worth a comment. At West Horsham, Mr. Delamar lifted his head to observe the redbrick buildings of St. Martin’s Hospital. Not a word had been exchanged between them thus far.
    “That is St. Martin’s Hospital,” he mentioned.
    She lowered the paper an inch and peered over the top of it. “Oh, yes.”
    Before she could raise her paper again, he pointed out a group of schoolboys in the yard. “They look like birds in their blue gowns and yellow stockings. We may be staring at a future prime minister or judge or murderer, depending in large part on what sort of school it is.”
    “I thought it was a hospital,” she said.
    “No, it is a Blue-Coat school, called St. Martin’s Hospital, as Christ Church is a school called a church. There are historical reasons for the names, but I believe they continue the misnomers to confuse the hapless victims.”
    She let the paper settle on her knees. “Did you not care for school, Mr. Delamar? I enjoyed it tremendously.”
    “They don’t make you ladies burst your heads learning Latin and Greek.”
    “No, we learn useful things like embroidery and poetry,” she replied, taking note of his classical education. She condescended, in the interest of civility, to smile.
    Thus encouraged, he decided she was tame enough to take a joke. “I notice you’re reading the Thunderer. That will do you about as much good as your embroidery if it’s information you’re seeking. It earned its nickname by assuming the Olympian prerogative of oracular wisdom, couching its editorials in the royal ‘we,’ as though it were anything more than the Tory opinions of John Walter II.”
    “What does your paper’s name signify, Mr. Delamar?”
    “A harbinger is a forerunner, one who—and by extension which—announces coming events, as birds and blossoms are harbingers of spring. You will recall my favored position in any endeavor is the forefront. I try, in my paper, to point out what will occur if certain courses are followed.”
    She lifted a brow and pinned him with her brilliant eyes. “That would be Tory courses?” she asked.
    “They’ve been the party in power for as long as I can remember, catering to the wishes of the aristocracy, the landed gentry, the church, and the established order in general.”
    “And are you against established tradition?”
    “No, I am against prejudice, particularly when it disguises itself as right and reason. Even our courts, you know, allow every man’s case to be heard. If we permit criminals that right, surely the innocent are due the same. I try to speak for those who are mute due to their lack of a forum. Someone ought to express outrage at such goings-on as the Prince of Wales being paid six hundred and thirty thousand pounds for marrying his German wife, who is a disgrace to the nation; his Oriental fantasy at Brighton costing nearly as much as the Peninsular War; and such details. But I know what side you are on, so I shan’t carp.”
    “I hope I am not on the side of ignorance and prejudice,” she said