about to depart.
In taking leave of his hostess, Penrith remarked cheerfully, “I have offered to mount your cousin on one of my hunters tomorrow, Selina. Not to worry, you know. I shall keep an eye on him.”
Biting back the retort she wished to make, Selina forced herself to say, “That is kind of you, Pen. He’s never hunted before, but I doubt he will disgrace you.”
“No, he’s a spirited lad. I shall put him on Trafalgar—great strength there, but well behaved, don’t you know?”
“Just see he doesn’t override the hounds,” she replied with a nervous laugh.
“Never fear. We’ll coach him in hunting etiquette before ever we reach Ashby Pastures. Should be able to draw thereabouts! Do you never have an itch to join the field these days, Selina?”
“My hunting days are past, which is all to the good, as I do not believe Mr. Assheton Smith is fond of ladies joining the hunt.”
“He tolerates them if they ride well and overlook his wayward tongue,” Penrith laughed. “But few dare to join these days, all the same.”
“Who can blame them?” Selina murmured as Mr. Rushton came to join them. She offered her hand, so that he could not fault her this time, but she found his touch disturbing, just as she did the faintly mocking light in his eyes, as though he were judging her, and not to her advantage.
“Who indeed?” Rushton rejoined to her rhetorical question. “Mr. Assheton Smith will never win any awards for his amiable disposition, but he is a worthy follower of Meynell’s tradition in his mastery of a pack of fox-hounds and the sport he shows.”
“My father rode with Mr. Meynell for many years. I hope the hunt will be enjoyable tomorrow.” Selina ignored the mocking light in his eyes, and was relieved when her visitors had departed, though it left her to confront Henry with his unique decision.
When they had returned to the drawing room, Selina did not speak and Henry wandered about the room, twirling the globes and poking at the fire. A sideways glance assured him that his cousin was not watching him; she had picked up a copy of the Ladies’ Monthly Museum and was perusing it with obvious interest.
“You know I have agreed to go with Sir Penrith on the hunt tomorrow,” he blurted at last. “Are you not going to beg me to reconsider?”
“Did you want me to?” she asked pleasantly, looking up from the magazine. “I felt sure you were all eagerness to go.”
“Well, I am, Selina. By God, it’s some of the best hunting country in the land, and I’ve never been.” He threw himself down on the sofa beside her. “Are you angry with me?”
“No.” She forced herself to smile at him. “I have been protecting you like a mother hen, haven’t I? Do forgive me. I rode with the Quorn several times when I was only a year or so older than you. When my father died I could not bear to part with his hunting coat, though I gave away his other clothing. Shall we see if it can be altered for you?”
“You would do that? Then you really are not angry with me?”
“How could I be? It is the most natural thing in the world to want to hunt when you’ve been raised on a horse and live in the Quorn country. Sir Penrith is the very one to teach you how to go on. It was kind of him to offer to mount such a stripling. Do not do anything to disgrace him,” she commanded with mock severity.
“I shan’t, you may be sure. I am all too conscious of his condescension. Could we look out the coat right now?” he asked eagerly.
“If we want it to be ready for the morning, we shall have to.”
Refusing to give in to nervousness, Selina occupied herself with tasks about the house for the entire morning after Henry left. When her eyes tended to stray to the clock on the mantelpiece after luncheon, she assured herself that the pack had had a difficult time picking up a scent. As the hours crawled past, though, and the light began to fade from the sky, she could no longer keep still. It was
In taking leave of his hostess, Penrith remarked cheerfully, “I have offered to mount your cousin on one of my hunters tomorrow, Selina. Not to worry, you know. I shall keep an eye on him.”
Biting back the retort she wished to make, Selina forced herself to say, “That is kind of you, Pen. He’s never hunted before, but I doubt he will disgrace you.”
“No, he’s a spirited lad. I shall put him on Trafalgar—great strength there, but well behaved, don’t you know?”
“Just see he doesn’t override the hounds,” she replied with a nervous laugh.
“Never fear. We’ll coach him in hunting etiquette before ever we reach Ashby Pastures. Should be able to draw thereabouts! Do you never have an itch to join the field these days, Selina?”
“My hunting days are past, which is all to the good, as I do not believe Mr. Assheton Smith is fond of ladies joining the hunt.”
“He tolerates them if they ride well and overlook his wayward tongue,” Penrith laughed. “But few dare to join these days, all the same.”
“Who can blame them?” Selina murmured as Mr. Rushton came to join them. She offered her hand, so that he could not fault her this time, but she found his touch disturbing, just as she did the faintly mocking light in his eyes, as though he were judging her, and not to her advantage.
“Who indeed?” Rushton rejoined to her rhetorical question. “Mr. Assheton Smith will never win any awards for his amiable disposition, but he is a worthy follower of Meynell’s tradition in his mastery of a pack of fox-hounds and the sport he shows.”
“My father rode with Mr. Meynell for many years. I hope the hunt will be enjoyable tomorrow.” Selina ignored the mocking light in his eyes, and was relieved when her visitors had departed, though it left her to confront Henry with his unique decision.
When they had returned to the drawing room, Selina did not speak and Henry wandered about the room, twirling the globes and poking at the fire. A sideways glance assured him that his cousin was not watching him; she had picked up a copy of the Ladies’ Monthly Museum and was perusing it with obvious interest.
“You know I have agreed to go with Sir Penrith on the hunt tomorrow,” he blurted at last. “Are you not going to beg me to reconsider?”
“Did you want me to?” she asked pleasantly, looking up from the magazine. “I felt sure you were all eagerness to go.”
“Well, I am, Selina. By God, it’s some of the best hunting country in the land, and I’ve never been.” He threw himself down on the sofa beside her. “Are you angry with me?”
“No.” She forced herself to smile at him. “I have been protecting you like a mother hen, haven’t I? Do forgive me. I rode with the Quorn several times when I was only a year or so older than you. When my father died I could not bear to part with his hunting coat, though I gave away his other clothing. Shall we see if it can be altered for you?”
“You would do that? Then you really are not angry with me?”
“How could I be? It is the most natural thing in the world to want to hunt when you’ve been raised on a horse and live in the Quorn country. Sir Penrith is the very one to teach you how to go on. It was kind of him to offer to mount such a stripling. Do not do anything to disgrace him,” she commanded with mock severity.
“I shan’t, you may be sure. I am all too conscious of his condescension. Could we look out the coat right now?” he asked eagerly.
“If we want it to be ready for the morning, we shall have to.”
Refusing to give in to nervousness, Selina occupied herself with tasks about the house for the entire morning after Henry left. When her eyes tended to stray to the clock on the mantelpiece after luncheon, she assured herself that the pack had had a difficult time picking up a scent. As the hours crawled past, though, and the light began to fade from the sky, she could no longer keep still. It was
Similar Books
