*
After making arrangementsfor the horses, Matthew had drunk a very large glass of ale. This had gone some way to softening his opinions of the day that had just transpired. After all, had he really expected anything else? Was it not his own fault that he had somehow deluded himself into imagining a straightforward and organized journey?
He should have known what he was getting himself into. The Benningtons would do nothing less than weave, double back, and hiccup their way to Town.
Now that he was perfectly aware that dawn would bring a new day that would go just as badly as this day had, he was a deal more sanguine.
They had all settled themselves to a dinner of roasted beef, potatoes, string beans, rolls, and salads. The food was very good, the claret perfectly acceptable and he found himself cheered by it. A good dinner always did restore him.
“What say you, Van Doren,” the earl said from his place at the head of the table, “shall we have as pleasant a time on the morrow as we did today?”
There were times when Matthew really could not tell if the earl were serious or joking. “I imagine it will be similar,” he said vaguely.
“I am glad I thought to bring several books with me,” Lord Westmont said, “as I have nearly finished the one I was reading today. It is really very enjoyable to read a book in a carriage, I dozed off several times.”
Matthew supposed itwouldbe comfortable in a carriage, though he would not for the world admit it aloud.
“The ham at the posthouses was very good,” Viola said, staring at him.
Matthew did not answer, though he certainly did notice that she’d dispatched her roasted beef a lot faster than she did any of the ham she’d eaten that day.
Two servants came in to clear the table and bring in a bottle of port and a tea service. Had they been at home, this would be the moment the ladies would retire to the drawing room to have their tea while Matthew and the earl would have some desultory conversation about their respective estates.
As there was no drawing room to retire to, the earl had said they would all stay together and entertain themselves as best they might.
Beatrice poured the tea and the earl poured the port. Lord Westmont said, “Juliet, I believe you mentioned you had composed an ode during our travels?”
“Several odes, Papa,” Juliet said, taking up the precious book that had been in her lap.
“Do enrich us with your delightful phrasings, my dear,” Miss Mayton said.
Juliet stood and opened her book. “I will read to you the one I consider the most inspired. It’s calledOde to the Bovine.”
Fine of form and gentle lowing
Round dark eyes full of knowing
I am a stranger that passes you by
Stay free good cow and do not die!
At the conclusion, Matthew watched Juliet’s eyes drift toward her rather massacred plate of beef as a servant carried it out. He supposed she was not opposed tosomecows dying.
There was enthusiastic clapping round the table and Juliet curtsied.
“Excellent, my girl,” the earl said, “very original. Now, I believe Miss Mayton has said she will be so good as to read to us from her latest favored novel.”
“Indeed I will,” Miss Mayton said. “It is calledThe Terrible Goings-On of Montclair Castle. It is written by Richard Roydon, though I am certain that is a nom de plume. There is a woman’s touch in the writing that cannot be ignored.”
“Set the scene for us, Aunt,” Cordelia said, “just as you did in the carriage.”
“Very well,” Miss Mayton said. “A one-eyed duke widower has fallen madly in love with Marianna, the gentle governess who is raising his children.But, can this lovely lady fall in love with a one-eyed man?”
Miss Mayton sat back looking very satisfied.
“That’s it?” Matthew asked. “There must be more to the story. Is there a villain? Or an irate father? A haunting? A rival suitor? A plotting housekeeper? Something?”
Miss Mayton sniffed and said, “I am sorry that a duke who saw one of his own eyes roll across the road after a carriage accident does not seem to have a big enough problem for you, Lord Van Doren.”
