Twenty
Tobias glanced about the flower strewn parlor of Wimple Hall and held in a groan. He had forgotten to bring a posy of flowers for his dance partner as he belatedly recalled he should. He hoped Miss Trimble didn’t hold it against him. “You look lovely today, Miss Trimble. I wanted to thank you for the dance last night.”
And indeed she did look lovely and sweet and perfectly composed. Her soft honey blonde hair was swept back in an elegant bun. Her gown, a white spotted affair, clung in all the right places. Tobias was impressed by her poise and elegance. A far cry from the misery he’d discovered her in last night.
“Thank you, sir,” Miss Trimble replied softly, eyes downcast and demure.
Her companions were not quite so demure. Miss Francesca and Miss Helena Trimble raked him with bold looks. He recognized Francesca as the woman who had lured him toward Lord Archibald and company on the terrace last night.
“Were you really a sailor, Mr. Randall?” Helena asked.
“Yes, I served a decade at sea.”
Francesca grinned, sitting forward eagerly. “In Lord Nelson’s Navy?”
“No, I was aboard a privately owned vessel.” He’d leave out the finer details for now. He’d rather see if Miss Trimble could like him before he told her, and her family, the full story.
A frown pulled at Miss Trimble’s brow. “Why were you not fighting against old boney with the English?”
Tobias cursed under his breath. Being a sailor in Lord Nelson’s navy was held in far more esteem than what his life at sea would be. However, while he might omit certain facts initially, he refused to lie and pretend he’d been fighting for England just to impress the girl. “I was sent away by my family. I had no say in the matter of where I went.”
“Oh,” Miss Trimble murmured, and then fell silent.
Francesca, the older of the sisters, caught his eye. “How long are you to remain at Romsey Abbey?”
“A few more weeks yet I imagine. But I will be making my home here again, at Harrowdale, just a few miles distant. I hope to be very comfortable there.”
The sisters shared a long look. “That is wonderful news. Do let us know when you move. I don’t believe any of us are familiar with the Harrowdale estate. We should all like to visit there one day and come to know you better. We shall persuade our brother to call on you as soon as you are settled.”
It would be a dark day before he’d ever invite Lord Archibald to cross his threshold, but if he married Miss Trimble he would be guided by her wishes. However, the sisters could come to call if they choose. He could easily ignore Francesca’s duplicity in the events of last night if it made Miss Trimble happy.
A slow blush crept up Miss Trimble’s cheeks. “Francesca,” she chided. “You should not speak for your brother until you know how he feels.”
Francesca laughed. “If I waited for my brother, nothing would ever be done around here and we would see no one at all and do nothing.”
Tobias grinned. “I shall look forward to having you join me there.”
It was impossible not to compare Miss Trimble’s reticence with her cousins outgoing personalities. Maybe demure didn’t suit him after all. But could he discount an alliance with her on such a short acquaintance?
Miss Trimble smiled, but then lapsed into a long silence.
Devil take it! Where was Blythe when he needed her? Polite conversation was not his forte. He suffered through a few more moments of silence before he remembered manners dictated he need only stay a quarter hour. He cast a quick look at the clock, discovered his time was up, and took his leave.
Miss Trimble followed him out to his horse. “I’m so sorry about my cousin’s impertinent questions. They like to know everything about everyone. They do mean well.”
Tobias took the reins from the servant. “Miss Trimble, your cousins are a breath of fresh air. I look forward to seeing you again, and them, often. Until next time.”
He swung up into the saddle and glanced up at the sky just as the heavens opened up. Miss Trimble squealed and ran for shelter, robbing him of any chance of further conversation.
He rearranged his great coat tighter about him to keep out the rain, and lifted his hand to wave farewell to Miss Trimble. However, she had vanished inside the house and he couldn’t see her at a window anywhere.
With a sigh, he kicked his horse toward Romsey Abbey, congratulating himself on his first call to the well-dowered Miss Trimble. She appeared nice enough. Although shy today, she had spoken her mind well enough to him last night. Her dowry would make their life together comfortable.
However, as they had conversed he had noticed his own shortcomings. His blood wasn’t stirred by her presence in the least. Certainly not the way it did when he was near Blythe. Perhaps time alone and a longer acquaintance would remedy that small disappointment. She could make some man a fine wife. He just didn’t know if he wanted her for himself.
Halfway home, Lord Archibald’s coach and four thundered past him and splattered his horse and his coat with filthy water. Tobias cursed after the departing carriage. A prig and just plain rude. He kicked his mount onward to Romsey, fighting to retain his resurrected good mood.
At the stables, a groom grumbled over the state of the horse and quickly led the beast away into the stables. Tobias shook the rain from his hat and stared at the abbey uneasily. He didn’t want to go back inside. Lord Archibald had left, but there would still be talk of alliances and suitors to endure. He couldn’t remain here forever. Resigned, he drew in a deep breath, but a movement caught his eye. Beth Turner and her son darted into the walled herb garden. Since he’d missed his chance to talk to her earlier, Tobias hurried to catch up.