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‘Not at all. But you clearly have the earl’s interests at heart.’
Mary felt her spirits sinking. Was it so obvious? She heard cheering and looked up. A colourful cavalcade was approaching.
‘It is the duke and his guests,’ observed Bertrand. ‘Come, let us return quickly to our carriage. We shall be able to see everything from there.’
He helped her on to the seat and they watched Wellington and his cortège moving past the troops gathered for inspection. Despite the number of distinguished officers surrounding the duke, Mary’s eyes followed one dark-coated colonel on his grey horse and while she watched him, her mind went over all he had said to her, every word, every gesture. He had said he would call. Would he do so? She must tell Jacques to once more deny him, just in case.
‘Well, Mademoiselle Mary, have you seen enough?’
Bertrand’s words recalled her wandering attention. The duke was at the far end of the impromptu parade ground now. The review was almost at an end.
‘They will all be dismissed soon and everyone will be trying to get away,’ he continued. ‘If we leave now we shall be ahead of the crush.’
‘Then by all means let us go now,’ agreed Mary, consciously avoiding taking a last look at Lord Randall. ‘It has been a most interesting day, Bertrand, thank you.’ She added impulsively, ‘I feel I should repay your kindness—will you join us for dinner this evening?’
‘Us?’
‘Well, of course, my teachers will be there. It would be improper for me to dine alone with you.’
‘Did you dine alone when you travelled from England with Earl Randall?’
‘Yes, but that was different.’
‘It was?’
She sucked in a breath. It was very different, but she dared not tell him in what way.
‘Lord Randall escorted me here to please his sister. She was concerned at my travelling back to Brussels alone. The earl was very reluctant to bring me with him, I assure you.’ A faint smile bubbled up when she remembered their arguments. But there had been very pleasant moments on the journey, too. She shook off the memories and looked Bertrand in the eye. ‘It is not the earl I am inviting to dine at the Rue Haute tonight, Bertrand. It is you. Now, what do you say?’
‘I say I would like that very much, mademoiselle. Thank you.’
* * *
Randall followed the duke and his entourage as they made their way through the colourful ranks, but his mind was distracted. What had possessed him to tell Mary he would call again? Better to let this obsession die now. There could never be anything between them. Even if he had not set his face against marriage the head of the noble house of Latymor could not ally himself to a mere schoolteacher, especially one whose father had been such a prominent supporter of revolution. And Mary did not welcome his attentions, he knew that. It would be better to leave well alone.
He followed the inspection party with impatience, but at last his duty was done and he rode back to have a quick word with his officers. He glanced across to the colourful crowd of spectators. As soon as he had finished here he would ride over to Mary and put her mind at rest. He would not call upon her. But even as he dismissed his men an aide came galloping up.
‘Lord Uxbridge requests that you join him for dinner this evening, my lord.’
‘I am already aware of that. I shall be there.’
‘His lordship would like you to accompany him now, sir, if you will,’ said the aide, adding in a colourless voice, ‘He requires your presence to escort his distinguished guests to Ninove, my lord.’
‘He requires my title, you mean.’
The aide kept his gaze fixed somewhere over Randall’s shoulder.
‘His lordship cannot talk to them all at the same time, my lord.’
There was no getting out of it. With a nod of assent he turned to follow the aide. As he cantered past the spectators he looked along the lines, seeking Lebbeke’s carriage, but it had gone.
Chapter Six
The teachers at the Endacott Academy for Young Ladies were all very accomplished and Mary was rarely needed in the classroom, although she did continue her father’s habit of teaching the brighter pupils Latin and Greek. She had lessons scheduled for the following morning and used this as an excuse not to tarry over her dinner with Bertrand. She was also adamant that she would not alter her timetable because Lord Randall had said he would call. She informed Jacques that her lessons were no
t to be interrupted, and did not know whether to be relieved or disappointed when she returned to her sitting room in the afternoon to find that there had been no callers.
She decided to deal with the small pile of mail on her desk, which was mostly from anxious parents. With the growing unrest many had already removed their daughters from her school and she would soon be obliged to let two of her teachers go. The others would accompany the remaining children to Antwerp, where they would stay until it was safe to return to Brussels. What would happen then, and what she would do, was impossible to say. If the French were victorious she would lose the daughters of the English families and she did not have enough local children on her books to make the schoolhouse on the Rue Haute viable.
