Read Online The Earl and the Highwayman's Daughter by Maggi Andersen - Free Book Online
Authors: Maggi Andersen
Ads: Link
hand.
“Yes?” She had been admiring him. His superfine coat, moldered to his broad shoulders, was of a blue that matched his eyes, his white silk cravat a masterpiece. The butler appeared at her elbow and poured wine into her glass. In her opinion, too much wine was served. A variety for this course and that. Hers was watered down, thankfully, or she’d fall asleep at the table.
“But”—he swirled the liquid in the glass, the sharp planes of the cut crystal catching the candlelight— “there is the matter of Molly.”
She’d spent many a night worrying about Molly. “Don’t you have a garden in London?”
Lady Beale laughed. How elegant she looked tonight in a rose-pink gown with rubies and diamonds at her ears.
“Molly must return to the home farm, Eugenia,” his lordship said in the tone he used to issue orders.
Was he worried about damage to the garden? “But birds attacked Molly when she was there. She had been pecked.”
“I’m sorry to hear it. Nevertheless, the goose will be lonely. Birds prefer to flock together.”
She sighed. “Do all birds prefer it?”
A slight smile tugged at his handsome mouth. “I have instructed a better arrangement be made for her at the farm. A special pen with another goose until she’s accepted by the gaggle. While we’re away, my chef will not be required to prepare a goose for the table. So you need not worry about Molly’s fate.”
“That is very good of you, my lord,” Eugenia said cautiously.
The footmen brought in the next course, scenting the room with delicate aromas.
“We’ll say no more on the subject during dinner,” he said, no doubt catching the mutinous look in her eye.
The following morning, after visiting Molly, when Eugenia strolled in the gardens, picking flowers, Lord Trentham crossed the lawns toward her with long strides. She studied him from beneath her bonnet brim. He carried a crop and was dressed for riding, in a fitted dark coat and tight breeches, his top boots highly polished. How splendid he looked.
“Counting lilacs, Eugenia?”
She laughed. “Impossible, my lord. I thought Mrs. Throsby might like these for the drawing room.”
“I’m sure she’ll be pleased.”
Eugenia watched him walk to the stables. She had a sudden urge to impress him with how well she rode. But unfortunately, she’d had limited experience. And there was the problem of her clothing. She’d yet to have a riding habit made.
She took the flowers into the house and presented the bunch to the housekeeper, who looked surprised. “A nice gesture indeed, thank you, Miss Hawthorne.”
Eugenia wandered outside again. It was a glorious day. Lord Trentham would be still out riding somewhere over the estate. Walking along, deep in thought, she found herself at the stables, where Mr. Pollitt and the stable boy unloaded sacks of oats and beans from a dray.
He smiled and removed his cap. “Anything I can do for you, Miss Hawthorne?”
“Thank you, Mr. Pollitt. I have a rather odd request.”
Half an hour later, Eugenia emerged from the groom’s room above the stables, just as his lordship rode in.
Lord Trentham dismounted and strode over to stare up at her as she descended the stairs. “What on earth…?”
“I should like to ride, my lord.” She stepped off the bottom rung, aware that her appearance had shocked him. She was dressed in Mr. Pollitt’s breeches, rolled up at the bottom, and a large shirt, which smelled strongly of horse.
“Neal?” His lordship swiveled around to look at Mr. Pollitt
“Please don’t be angry with Mr. Pollitt. I insisted,” Eugenia said.
His lordship studied her outfit, his gaze lingering on her legs. “You cannot go about dressed like that, Eugenia. Have you actually ridden a horse?”
She huffed. “Of course. I’m a country girl. But we only had the carthorse. He didn’t take kindly to being ridden.”
A flicker of amusement entered his blue eyes. “I imagine not. Bring out a sidesaddle,
“Yes?” She had been admiring him. His superfine coat, moldered to his broad shoulders, was of a blue that matched his eyes, his white silk cravat a masterpiece. The butler appeared at her elbow and poured wine into her glass. In her opinion, too much wine was served. A variety for this course and that. Hers was watered down, thankfully, or she’d fall asleep at the table.
“But”—he swirled the liquid in the glass, the sharp planes of the cut crystal catching the candlelight— “there is the matter of Molly.”
She’d spent many a night worrying about Molly. “Don’t you have a garden in London?”
Lady Beale laughed. How elegant she looked tonight in a rose-pink gown with rubies and diamonds at her ears.
“Molly must return to the home farm, Eugenia,” his lordship said in the tone he used to issue orders.
Was he worried about damage to the garden? “But birds attacked Molly when she was there. She had been pecked.”
“I’m sorry to hear it. Nevertheless, the goose will be lonely. Birds prefer to flock together.”
She sighed. “Do all birds prefer it?”
A slight smile tugged at his handsome mouth. “I have instructed a better arrangement be made for her at the farm. A special pen with another goose until she’s accepted by the gaggle. While we’re away, my chef will not be required to prepare a goose for the table. So you need not worry about Molly’s fate.”
“That is very good of you, my lord,” Eugenia said cautiously.
The footmen brought in the next course, scenting the room with delicate aromas.
“We’ll say no more on the subject during dinner,” he said, no doubt catching the mutinous look in her eye.
The following morning, after visiting Molly, when Eugenia strolled in the gardens, picking flowers, Lord Trentham crossed the lawns toward her with long strides. She studied him from beneath her bonnet brim. He carried a crop and was dressed for riding, in a fitted dark coat and tight breeches, his top boots highly polished. How splendid he looked.
“Counting lilacs, Eugenia?”
She laughed. “Impossible, my lord. I thought Mrs. Throsby might like these for the drawing room.”
“I’m sure she’ll be pleased.”
Eugenia watched him walk to the stables. She had a sudden urge to impress him with how well she rode. But unfortunately, she’d had limited experience. And there was the problem of her clothing. She’d yet to have a riding habit made.
She took the flowers into the house and presented the bunch to the housekeeper, who looked surprised. “A nice gesture indeed, thank you, Miss Hawthorne.”
Eugenia wandered outside again. It was a glorious day. Lord Trentham would be still out riding somewhere over the estate. Walking along, deep in thought, she found herself at the stables, where Mr. Pollitt and the stable boy unloaded sacks of oats and beans from a dray.
He smiled and removed his cap. “Anything I can do for you, Miss Hawthorne?”
“Thank you, Mr. Pollitt. I have a rather odd request.”
Half an hour later, Eugenia emerged from the groom’s room above the stables, just as his lordship rode in.
Lord Trentham dismounted and strode over to stare up at her as she descended the stairs. “What on earth…?”
“I should like to ride, my lord.” She stepped off the bottom rung, aware that her appearance had shocked him. She was dressed in Mr. Pollitt’s breeches, rolled up at the bottom, and a large shirt, which smelled strongly of horse.
“Neal?” His lordship swiveled around to look at Mr. Pollitt
“Please don’t be angry with Mr. Pollitt. I insisted,” Eugenia said.
His lordship studied her outfit, his gaze lingering on her legs. “You cannot go about dressed like that, Eugenia. Have you actually ridden a horse?”
She huffed. “Of course. I’m a country girl. But we only had the carthorse. He didn’t take kindly to being ridden.”
A flicker of amusement entered his blue eyes. “I imagine not. Bring out a sidesaddle,
Similar Books
