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“Oh, yes. People do pride themselves here on being a tad more distinguished than those of neighboring villages, and to know one of our own is related to England’s hero, well, I hope you shall forgive our tendency to gloat.”
He laughed, bowed slightly, and effected his farewell and exit. Once in the gig, he turned the horses toward Mannering, the house of his sister, from where he’d once been banished.
Chapter 5
Dinner that night was an interesting affair, made all the more so by the unnerving experience of having a man such as Captain Balfour seated opposite her at the table.
She was unused to conversing with men whose ready wit matched hers. For too long, conversation at this table had been dominated by the general’s grunts and sporadic references to long-ago battles that forever left Mama and Theo struggling in their wake. Such slowness had led to accusations of disinterest, which though partly true, did not engender participation from her mother to answer the general’s barked questions.
To have a man, sober as he might be—and made more so by the visit to Mannering that had also left Becky even quieter than before—enquire about the girl’s life in such a kind and courteous way engendered warmth toward him. Though she might not have known him long, it became increasingly apparent that all Francis Mannering had said about his brother-in-law was patently false. Daniel Balfour was patient, generous, and kind.
Theo slid a glance at Becky. How curious that she had almost instantly recognized her uncle was not the monster her father had made him out to be. Theo’s attention returned to their other guest.
He nodded and looked away.
Had he been watching her? She’d felt the weight of his gaze on her a number of times today and had fought the urge to cover her cheek. Yet she sensed no focus on her blemish. Rather, their easy discourse suggested this new acquaintanceship could fast ripen into friendship. But he was here for only a short while, until matters at Mannering could be best sorted. It was folly to think someone who’d known the breadth of England might consider pursuing friendship with her. Her lips twitched. How self-interested was she?
“Miss Stapleton? Was there something you wished to say?” Captain Balfour asked.
Her stomach tensed. Heaven forbid her thoughts be made plain. She shook her head and refocused on her food.
“I must thank you all, once again, for your hospitality.” The captain’s clear voice echoed in the wood-panelled room. “I certainly did not expect to be met and accepted on such easy terms.”
“We could not have you dine at the inn,” Mama fluttered. “I’m afraid The White Hare’s cook is not known for his care with meat, and it would have proved most trying dining there. One has to think of one’s teeth, after all.”
“Indeed one does,” he agreed kindly.
“I’m sure caring for one’s teeth was one of your top priorities on the battlefield,” Theo said as seriously as she could.
“On the front, one might trust a surgeon to dig out a bullet but not one’s tooth,” he said, with the faintest glimmer of a smile.
“What?” The general stirred himself from an unusual taciturn lethargy, where he had stayed ever since the captain’s arrival. “What are you talking about?”
“Dentistry on the battlefront, Grandfather,” Theo said.
“What?” He frowned. “Back in my day, we simply let our teeth rot out. There was none of this namby-pamby business of caring about teeth.”
Into the silence that met this statement, Mama ventured, “It’s always been my experience that an aching tooth can have a most marked effect on one’s sense of well-being.”
“You talk the most utter nonsense, Letitia,” Grandfather barked.
Theo shot her mother a quick look, unsurprised to see her quivering lip, but was saved from the need to intervene by the captain’s gentle voice.
“Mrs. Stapleton, I find I must agree with you. It surprises me how often a seemingly insignificant ailment can have a proportionately inverse effect on one’s sense of comfort.”
“Comfort, my foot,” Grandfather said with an inelegant snort.
“I have to concur with you, Captain Balfour,” Theo rushed to say. “It is similar to how a midge, or a mosquito, can be so small yet hold such power to disturb one’s sleep. One doesn’t like to think of oneself as being at the mercy of a small insect, but there it is.”
“Exactly so.” His lips lifted as he studied her.
Her pulse quickened and she quickly glanced at the head of the table. “Grandfather, I hesitate to contradict you, but we all know that Mama is a most sensible woman. And really, the one who talks the most utter nonsense would be poor Willie Dillikins.”
A smothered chuckle came from the man across the table.
“Who is ‘poor Willie Dillikins’?” asked Becky.
“Poor Willie Dillikins is something of a local legend.” Theo rested her fork on the side of her plate.
