Below the boathouse, Mary Lound, who had indeed succumbed to what she feared was the last chance to fish for the season, and had caught a glimpse of her erstwhile pupil at the head of the lake, was pleased257and also disappointed as she saw indications that Sir Rowland was reeling in a fish. She told herself it showed her instruction had been good, but it also showed he no longer needed her. She lost the heart to fish and packed up her rod, but did not leave, for the afternoon had a warmth to it that would soon be absent, and the grass beneath her feet felt very much ‘hers’. She removed her hat and lay upon the grass, eyes closed, her hand almost caressing the grass, and the disturbed nights of sleep caught up with her. She drifted off.
Why Sir Rowland chose to walk around the lake rather than go directly back to the house he did not know, for it was a whim. Perhaps it was because, for the first time, he felt intimations of connection, of true ownership, rather than being on ‘her’ land. He walked slowly, listening to faint sounds of the rooks gossiping in the beech hanger beyond the house, and was taken aback to see the figure lying upon the grass. For one moment he feared something terrible had happened, and his heart beat faster. He approached and saw with relief the slow rise and fall of the bosom of her pelisse. What he wanted to do was stretch his length beside her, look down into her face, a face at peace, and wake her with his kiss, but that was for fairy tales. If she awoke like that she would be frightened, and a frightened Mary Lound would not scream but fight. Yes, she would strike out at him, and with due cause.
He dare not even remain and watch her, for if she roused from slumber to find him staring at her she would258be embarrassed. He permitted himself one lingering look, committing it to memory, and retraced his steps, though not heavy-hearted, for his head was filled with delicious dreams of seeing her thus, not upon the banks of the lake on a September afternoon, but with her head upon the pillow beside him, ready to be woken with love. When he reached the house his throat felt tight, and he did not wish to speak with anyone. He went to the gunroom to hang up his rod, but if he felt her in all the house, she was even more present there, and unfulfilled desire was replaced by an aching of heart.
259
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Tom left for Oxford, leaving Sir Rowland to attend the horse sales in Cheltenham the following Thursday with his groom, and with some vague description of the sort of animal he would like. Sir Rowland missed him as he always did at the very beginning of term, for, despite the age difference, they got on very well. As for the hunter, Tom had been honest with him, grinned, and said that since Rowland was buying the horse it was only fair that he select it also. As long as it looked of good temperament, was sound, and not too raw boned, he would be very grateful. Armed with these requirements, Sir Rowland went to survey the livestock that would be trotted round the ring. Whilst a proportion of the horses were for carriage work, and there were even a few heavy260horses, he still had quite a large selection from which to choose. He and Sam Barnsley, his groom, were fully occupied for a good hour and a half, by which time Sir Rowland had a list of four possible animals, any of which, if not excessively priced, should suit his brother well. For himself, he hoped to purchase two horses, since he wished to hunt regularly, and Tom would not be home very much during the season. He and Sam then took up a good position by the ring and waited. Two hours later, very pleased with his first and third choices for himself, and the first choice for Tom, Sir Rowland sent Sam Barnsley off to a local hostelry, with instructions on getting the horses back to Tapley End, and himself went to The George for luncheon. As he was about to step within he was hailed by name, and turned to see Sir Harry Penwood.
‘Penwood, good to see you. I have been increasing my stable, thanks to your advice. You were right about prices, for I thought most very reasonable.’
‘Got what you fancied, then?’ Sir Harry enquired, confident of an affirmative answer, judging from Sir Rowland’s expression.
‘Yes indeed. You must come over and take a look at them some time soon. Are you pressed for time? I was about to take luncheon and would be delighted to have good company rather than eat alone.’
‘There is nothing that cannot wait a little. Thank you, I will join you with pleasure.’
The two gentlemen entered together and bespoke a261table. Conversation was friendly, and initially about horses and hunting, but as the covers were removed, Sir Rowland broached the subject that had been upon his mind.
‘Have you seen Miss Lound this last week?’
‘Yes.’ The response was cautious.
‘Is she … well?’
‘She is not confined to her bed, but that is not what you mean, is it?’ Sir Harry looked straight at Sir Rowland.
‘No.’ Sir Rowland sighed. ‘You know her better than anyone, at my guess. Women, in my limited experience, are never easy to fathom, but she … I thought we were going along rather well, and then there was … a misunderstanding. She probably knows it was such, but is avoiding me.’
‘I know it must sound impertinent, but have you a thought to fix your interest with her, Kempsey?’ Sir Harry was perfectly serious, and his normal light-hearted demeanour was absent.
‘Yes. At least I am pretty certain. I … sometimes I am entirely sure, and then I wonder if I ought to be confined to Bedlam for wishing it. She is a one-off.’
‘Oh yes, not at all in the usual style, but rather wonderful withal.’
‘That is what I think. But we are at an impasse, and I, for one, am not sure how to resolve it. I am not even totally sure that she wishes it to be resolved,’ he added, gloomily.262
‘I can set your mind at rest on that one, at least. I will be frank. Mary, and I am not going to keep referring to her as “Miss Lound” in this conversation, is not happy at all. In fact, I have never known her as low in spirits, except when her brother James was killed and when Edmund first said he was selling up. In part I know the events of this summer, losing Tapley End, the economic constraints – and Lady Damerham is no more organised than a headless chicken, nice woman though she is – have weighed upon her, but there is more to it. She has changed these last couple of months, changed since you arrived. She has not said anything, and I am breaking no trust, but there was a sparkle to her I have not seen before, a sparkle that has been absent in recent days. She looks lost, and Mary has always been sure of everything, known where she stands, and where she wants to be.’
‘I cannot see how I can go to her, that is the problem. The misunderstanding … well, if we are being frank …’ Sir Rowland explained what had happened on the aborted fishing afternoon. Sir Harry, for his own part, was relieved to hear that Kempsey was not romantically inclined towards Miss Banham, for it would feel mean-spirited to resent a fellow who seemed to be jolly decent doing what he himself had done, and falling for the girl.
‘I see how it must be awkward. Even if you apologise to her, she will know that you have no reason to do so, and it is she who … How about you try it without an apology but are just honest with her as you would be with me, or another man?’ Sir Harry lifted a hand263as Sir Rowland opened his mouth to speak. ‘Yes, I know she is not a man, but she can, at times, be just as straightforward. It can make things remarkably simple, or extremely complicated. She does not know the “moves” of interacting with a fellow other than as a friend, which makes her the most wonderful sister to me, who never had a sister, but must make it deuced difficult now she is not thinking like a sister, and I swear she is not. Just ask to wipe the slate clean because you cannot both go on as you are, living cheek by jowl but with a huge great void between you both.’
‘That is what I said when there was a far less grave misunderstanding, and it worked then. But I am not at all sure it will do so a second time.’ Sir Rowland frowned.
‘It is the best thing I can suggest.’ Sir Harry paused. ‘Would you object if I prepared the ground a bit?’
‘In what way?’
‘Well, if I say I met you today buying horses, and we came here, and I thought there was something on your mind. You know, hinted that you are not exactly happy as a grig at present? She might get the idea. Just at the moment I think she feels not just unloved, but unloveable, but looking you in the eye and saying she was jealous as hell, well, not exactly in those words, but showing her hand, what she feels, exposes her to greater hurt, not to mention acute embarrassment, because she will have convinced herself that you now regard her coldly.’264
‘Just how does a man without sisters get to comprehend women that well?’ Sir Rowland raised a quizzical eyebrow.
‘Not “women”, alas, just “one woman”, and one I have known since … forever. I love her dearly, and if I did not think I could trust you, Kempsey, I would not be telling you all this, because if any man trifled with her affections, well, her good-for-nought brother may be thousands of miles away, but she is not without a man to protect her.’
‘I understand, and thank you. If there is anything I can do in return …’
