Page 17 of Beguiling the Baron

Chapter 10

Though a beautifully sunny day outside, Tia had elected to spend at least part of it within, penning a letter to her old schoolfriend Lucy. The past week had been difficult, and she was desperate to unburden herself to someone who knew about Lord Ansford. He’d been behaving most oddly, and she couldn’t tell if it was a good sign or quite the opposite.

Much to her surprise, he’d eventually made the acquaintance of Mama but had only exchanged the briefest of greetings with her. He was occasionally to be found in one of the downstairs rooms in the middle of the house, a place once used as a drawing room, mayhap, in the days when Foxleaze Abbey had welcomed guests. The papers were brought to him there and when he’d finished with them, he would generally disappear, leaving them for the Wyndhams to peruse at their leisure.

On a couple of occasions, Ansford had stayed late reading and had actually been quite polite when they burst in on him unawares. Tia almost imagined he might have hung back deliberately in order to see them.

He seemed different. It took her some time to realize it was because he had donned a white shirt and cravat instead of his usual black. Was he trying to lull her into a false sense of security by making himself more presentable? Surely, she hadn’t already pierced his armor of indifference?

Unfortunately, Polly had become sullener after the incident outside the folly. Maybe—and not without reason—the child thought her papa would take more of an interest in her, now he’d been forced to speak to her. Her disappointment was palpable, and it was as much as Tia could do to get her to work at all or indulge in conversation.

“I don’t know what to make of the man,” she wrote to her friend. “I’m sure there is much good in him,only he casts a pall of misery about him wherever he goes. Pray, ask your husband if his old friend has always been so morose, or if his wife’s death has wrought this change in him.”

She paused and gazed out the window. She’d done something utterly ridiculous the other day. So foolish, in fact, she had to force herself to admit it to Lucy.

“Having a notion the baroness might still be alive and imprisoned in the forbidden folly, I went to see if I could determine whether or not her body lay in her tomb. Of course, I could never have pushed that great stone lid off, but I was just thinking about it when Lord Ansford came upon me.”

She quivered with embarrassment at the memory. She’d told him she was merely perusing the charming Fifteenth century carvings.

“I fear he divined my purpose. He gave me that look of his, when his blue eyes turn almost black, and his brows knit together in disapproval. He just told me to keep away and loomed there until I left. Can you imagine anything more frustrating? A man who lays down the law but gives no good reason.”

She paused in her writing, recalling the expression on Ansford’s face. He’d nodded to himself as he dismissed her from the vault, as if he’d made his mind up about something. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know what it was.

Mama bustled in. “Tia, we have some post. One is an invitation to dine with the Douglas family of Amesbury.”

Tia put down her pen and blew on the wet ink before turning to her mother. “An invitation? How splendid.”

More than splendid, in truth. She could barely recall the last time she and Mama had attended any social engagement. Her father’s funeral had been the last time they’d seen all their friends and family. It hadn’t taken long for many of those people to abandon the Wyndham ladies when the extent of their debts was known. Thank goodness for Lucy and the Duke of Finchingfield.

Thank goodness for Lord Ansford too. No matter how pathetic an excuse for a gentleman he might be, he had, nonetheless, rescued them from the worst of situations.

“Yes,” Mama went on, “Ansford gave it to me this morning. Or should I say, sent it up with a footman.”

“He didn’t reply himself?”

“Oh no. He won’t be going. You know he hates society.”

Tia’s charitable thoughts of Lord Ansford lost some of their gloss. “The Douglas family will be disappointed when they learn it’s only us.”

“It’s a beginning, Tia. Mourning affects people differently. One day he may find confidence enough to accompany us.”

Tia snorted. “I don’t think confidence is what he lacks, Mama. He is too bullheaded to change his mind about anything.”

She glanced toward the window. June was now in progress, and despite recent rain, the prospect for the day was promising. Swallows swooped low above the grass while swifts screamed overhead, performing their aerial chases and dives. It was so beautiful. She mustn’t let anything spoil her enjoyment of it.

“Mama, am I too hard on Lord Ansford? I wouldn’t want to endanger our position here.” Whatever frustrations she might have with the owner of Foxleaze, whatever grim secrets the place might harbor, she would miss it sorely if they were forced to leave.

“I don’t think you mean to goad him,” her mother replied, giving her a level look. “Although I agree he often deserves it. You’re not quite your old self yet. The hardships you’ve been through have taken their toll, and you’ve witnessed the kind of suffering a young gentlewoman ought never to see. I think you’re smarting from your wounds and need to strike out. Ansford, although guiltless of your original pain, has become your scapegoat. I suggest you’re sensitive to his faults because you take them personally—at a time when you need a boost to your confidence, his indifferent behavior has the opposite effect.”

Tia chewed on her lip. This last was almost certainly true, though she hated to admit it. She threw her head back and forced a laugh. “Mama, how perceptive you’ve become.”

“More than you know, my dear, more than you know. Now, shall we plunder the late baroness’s collection of the Lady’s Magazine? We can hunt for ideas on what to wear for our evening out.”

“They’re in the morning room, are they not? Surely Ansford’s ‘Rules’ dictate that room should stay shut up?”

Mama rolled her eyes. “I was planning on borrowing a few copies and bringing them back to our sitting room. Or we could read them here.”

A frisson of excitement skittered up Tia’s spine. It was ridiculous they shouldn’t be allowed to use the morning room. It only needed the covers to be whisked off and shaken to make the place perfectly habitable. Polly could come and join them—there was a card table, a pianoforte, a splendid collection of ladies’ magazines and journals, and a large, modern window admitting more daylight than any other in the building.

Ansford wouldn’t like it if they opened up the morning room.

So, I won’t bother to ask him.