Read Online Married: The Virgin Widow by Deborah Hale - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Deborah Hale
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you quite certain you’re warm enough and not too tired?”
Before Mrs Penrose could answer, Ford did. “We have not been out more than ten minutes. I told your mother to let me know the moment she feels chilled or fatigued and I will take her back inside at once.”
Though he spoke in a calm tone, Laura sensed answering hostility behind his composed features. In his level gaze she detected a hint of something unexpected. If she hadn’t known better, she might have fancied his feeling slighted.
Refusing to acknowledge his words, she fixed her attention on her mother. “If you are quite comfortable, then I will leave you to your walk.”
Mrs Penrose laid one delicate hand upon Laura’s. “I should enjoy my outing so much more…if you accompanied us. I’m certain Ford would, too.” She twisted about in the chair to offer him a wan smile. “He tells me you are considering a rather special request he made of you.”
“Did he?” For her mother’s sake, Laura strove to mask her exasperation. “I thought it was customary to keep such matters private until a decision had been reached. Perhaps Ford is used to different customs from the Indies.”
“I am.” Ford began to push the garden chair forwards at a leisurely pace. “In the East, a girl’s parents negotiate all the details of her marriage before she is informed of it.”
“And the bride has no say in the matter?” Almost against her will, Laura began to walk along beside. “Infamous!”
She caught Ford in a fleeting grin. He enjoyed goading her, the beast!
“Do not be so quick to condemn a tradition that has endured for centuries. Perhaps it is we English who are misguided in our willingness to base the commitment of a lifetime upon the passing romantic fancies of callow youth.”
So that was all he’d felt for her—a passing romantic fancy? Though Laura fought to stifle her emotions, her eyes stung and her throat tightened. Cyrus had used almost those exact words seven years ago, when he’d insisted his cousin had no deeper feelings for her. For the longest time, in spite of mounting evidence, a stubborn corner of her heart had refused to believe it. Now she felt as if Ford had reached into her chest and ripped out that last sliver of dogged faith.
“I am surprised,” he added, with callous disregard for her feelings, “that a woman of your admirable prudence should not perceive the merits of arranged marriages.”
“My dear Ford,” Mrs Penrose chided him with gently, “you sound so severe one might believe you were in earnest. You men take such delight in teasing your sweethearts. Laura’s father was just the same when we were courting.”
Ford gave a rich, rustling chuckle that seemed toconfirm her mother’s charge. Laura thought it more likely he was mocking Mama’s naïveté. “If I must not tease my sweetheart, what should I talk about, ma’am?”
“Why not tell us about your plans for improving the estate. I’m certain my daughter will be as interested in hearing about them as I am.”
Ford glanced toward Laura. “Would you?”
By now she had regained sufficient composure to look him in the eye. But she still did not trust her voice. Instead she replied with a curt nod.
“Very well then.” Ford launched into a discourse on animal pasturage, fruit cultivation and drainage, which Laura hated to admit she found fascinating.
From the time she’d come to Hawkesbourne, the tenants had always treated her with respect and kindness. She’d watched with helpless dismay as Cyrus had neglected the estate. If Ford’s ideas helped put more acreage under cultivation, or increased crop yields, those hardworking people she’d come to know and admire would prosper.
Several questions slipped out before she could contain them. To her surprise, Ford answered readily, with no hint of condescension.
“How did you come to know all this?” she asked at last, grudgingly impressed by the breadth of his information.
He shrugged. “I
Before Mrs Penrose could answer, Ford did. “We have not been out more than ten minutes. I told your mother to let me know the moment she feels chilled or fatigued and I will take her back inside at once.”
Though he spoke in a calm tone, Laura sensed answering hostility behind his composed features. In his level gaze she detected a hint of something unexpected. If she hadn’t known better, she might have fancied his feeling slighted.
Refusing to acknowledge his words, she fixed her attention on her mother. “If you are quite comfortable, then I will leave you to your walk.”
Mrs Penrose laid one delicate hand upon Laura’s. “I should enjoy my outing so much more…if you accompanied us. I’m certain Ford would, too.” She twisted about in the chair to offer him a wan smile. “He tells me you are considering a rather special request he made of you.”
“Did he?” For her mother’s sake, Laura strove to mask her exasperation. “I thought it was customary to keep such matters private until a decision had been reached. Perhaps Ford is used to different customs from the Indies.”
“I am.” Ford began to push the garden chair forwards at a leisurely pace. “In the East, a girl’s parents negotiate all the details of her marriage before she is informed of it.”
“And the bride has no say in the matter?” Almost against her will, Laura began to walk along beside. “Infamous!”
She caught Ford in a fleeting grin. He enjoyed goading her, the beast!
“Do not be so quick to condemn a tradition that has endured for centuries. Perhaps it is we English who are misguided in our willingness to base the commitment of a lifetime upon the passing romantic fancies of callow youth.”
So that was all he’d felt for her—a passing romantic fancy? Though Laura fought to stifle her emotions, her eyes stung and her throat tightened. Cyrus had used almost those exact words seven years ago, when he’d insisted his cousin had no deeper feelings for her. For the longest time, in spite of mounting evidence, a stubborn corner of her heart had refused to believe it. Now she felt as if Ford had reached into her chest and ripped out that last sliver of dogged faith.
“I am surprised,” he added, with callous disregard for her feelings, “that a woman of your admirable prudence should not perceive the merits of arranged marriages.”
“My dear Ford,” Mrs Penrose chided him with gently, “you sound so severe one might believe you were in earnest. You men take such delight in teasing your sweethearts. Laura’s father was just the same when we were courting.”
Ford gave a rich, rustling chuckle that seemed toconfirm her mother’s charge. Laura thought it more likely he was mocking Mama’s naïveté. “If I must not tease my sweetheart, what should I talk about, ma’am?”
“Why not tell us about your plans for improving the estate. I’m certain my daughter will be as interested in hearing about them as I am.”
Ford glanced toward Laura. “Would you?”
By now she had regained sufficient composure to look him in the eye. But she still did not trust her voice. Instead she replied with a curt nod.
“Very well then.” Ford launched into a discourse on animal pasturage, fruit cultivation and drainage, which Laura hated to admit she found fascinating.
From the time she’d come to Hawkesbourne, the tenants had always treated her with respect and kindness. She’d watched with helpless dismay as Cyrus had neglected the estate. If Ford’s ideas helped put more acreage under cultivation, or increased crop yields, those hardworking people she’d come to know and admire would prosper.
Several questions slipped out before she could contain them. To her surprise, Ford answered readily, with no hint of condescension.
“How did you come to know all this?” she asked at last, grudgingly impressed by the breadth of his information.
He shrugged. “I
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