perfectly capable of turning out two small boys. Miss Tilling hadn’t shown the slightest willingness to help in that respect before now and her transparent efforts to make herself useful were too little, too late.
“You look quite nice,” Miss Tilling said grudgingly. “Anyone would think you were trying to make an impression.”
“How kind of you to say so. However, I don’t need to try, as you so delicately put it. I am accustomed to good society.”
“I really think I should come with you,” Mr. Drake said. “It isn’t seemly for a young lady to accept an invitation from an unmarried gentleman and keep the engagement without male protection.”
“What do you imagine I need protecting from, Mr. Drake?”
He shook his head and tutted. “Really, I have no way of knowing, but there is bound to be something.”
“We’re ready, Aunt Nia.” Leo bounded up to her, saving Nia from saying something she might otherwise regret. Or worse, not regret.
“Hannah made the most dreadful fuss over us,” Art complained.
Nia bit her lip to prevent a smile from escaping and shared a glance with Hannah over the boys’ heads. She couldn’t remember the last time she had seen them looking so clean, or so excited. Leo was literally hopping from foot to foot in his impatience to be gone. Nia was scarcely less impatient to escape Mr. Drake and the impossibly self-centred Miss Tilling, who was making little effort to conceal her jealousy.
“Come along then, boys. Let’s be on our way.”
A short time later Nia drove their gig, drawn by an accommodating if plodding cob, up the never-ending driveway to Winchester Park. Even the boys, who had not stopped chattering until that point, seemed subdued by their surroundings.
“I say!” Art bounced up and down on the seat when they took a right-angled turn and the house finally came into view. “It’s enormous.”
“Hundreds of people must live there,” Leo said, his jaw dropping open.
“It makes our house in Ireland look tiny.”
“Do you think Lord Vincent will remember he invited us…”
“Or will we be asked what business we have here?”
Nia was wondering the exact same thing. The boys were distracted as they observed several railed paddocks with fine-quality horses prancing about in them. In spite of their frequent entreaties for her to look this way or that, Nia seldom took her eyes off the path ahead of her, doing what she could to quell her nerves by constantly reminding herself that Lord Vincent had been quite insistent that they accept his invitation. If he had had a change of heart, presumably he would be too well mannered to allow it to show and they could leave again after a very short interval. And if the duke or his lady mother had no wish to meet her, Nia would not lose any sleep over the snub.
As she drove closer to the magnificent mansion she was unable to decide whether she should approach the front steps or drive directly to the mews. The decision was made for her when she observed Lord Vincent standing on the front steps, raising a hand in greeting. Her treacherous heart did a strange little flip at the sight of him and she was glad she was still too far away for him to observe the colour that flooded her cheeks. The boys were less reserved and returned his wave with vigour.
Nia brought the gig to a halt and a footman ran up to take the horse’s head. The boys leapt down before the conveyance had even stopped. Lord Vincent appeared to find their enthusiasm diverting and was laughing as he walked up to the gig and offered Nia his hand to help her alight.
“Good morning, Miss Trafford. I am so very glad you were able to come.”
“Good morning, Lord Vincent. There was not the slightest possibility of my not keeping the engagement,” she replied with a significant look at the boys.
He chuckled. “No, I don’t suppose there was.”
“I say, sir, can we see the horses now?”
“We are most frightfully keen.”
“I hardly slept a
“You look quite nice,” Miss Tilling said grudgingly. “Anyone would think you were trying to make an impression.”
“How kind of you to say so. However, I don’t need to try, as you so delicately put it. I am accustomed to good society.”
“I really think I should come with you,” Mr. Drake said. “It isn’t seemly for a young lady to accept an invitation from an unmarried gentleman and keep the engagement without male protection.”
“What do you imagine I need protecting from, Mr. Drake?”
He shook his head and tutted. “Really, I have no way of knowing, but there is bound to be something.”
“We’re ready, Aunt Nia.” Leo bounded up to her, saving Nia from saying something she might otherwise regret. Or worse, not regret.
“Hannah made the most dreadful fuss over us,” Art complained.
Nia bit her lip to prevent a smile from escaping and shared a glance with Hannah over the boys’ heads. She couldn’t remember the last time she had seen them looking so clean, or so excited. Leo was literally hopping from foot to foot in his impatience to be gone. Nia was scarcely less impatient to escape Mr. Drake and the impossibly self-centred Miss Tilling, who was making little effort to conceal her jealousy.
“Come along then, boys. Let’s be on our way.”
A short time later Nia drove their gig, drawn by an accommodating if plodding cob, up the never-ending driveway to Winchester Park. Even the boys, who had not stopped chattering until that point, seemed subdued by their surroundings.
“I say!” Art bounced up and down on the seat when they took a right-angled turn and the house finally came into view. “It’s enormous.”
“Hundreds of people must live there,” Leo said, his jaw dropping open.
“It makes our house in Ireland look tiny.”
“Do you think Lord Vincent will remember he invited us…”
“Or will we be asked what business we have here?”
Nia was wondering the exact same thing. The boys were distracted as they observed several railed paddocks with fine-quality horses prancing about in them. In spite of their frequent entreaties for her to look this way or that, Nia seldom took her eyes off the path ahead of her, doing what she could to quell her nerves by constantly reminding herself that Lord Vincent had been quite insistent that they accept his invitation. If he had had a change of heart, presumably he would be too well mannered to allow it to show and they could leave again after a very short interval. And if the duke or his lady mother had no wish to meet her, Nia would not lose any sleep over the snub.
As she drove closer to the magnificent mansion she was unable to decide whether she should approach the front steps or drive directly to the mews. The decision was made for her when she observed Lord Vincent standing on the front steps, raising a hand in greeting. Her treacherous heart did a strange little flip at the sight of him and she was glad she was still too far away for him to observe the colour that flooded her cheeks. The boys were less reserved and returned his wave with vigour.
Nia brought the gig to a halt and a footman ran up to take the horse’s head. The boys leapt down before the conveyance had even stopped. Lord Vincent appeared to find their enthusiasm diverting and was laughing as he walked up to the gig and offered Nia his hand to help her alight.
“Good morning, Miss Trafford. I am so very glad you were able to come.”
“Good morning, Lord Vincent. There was not the slightest possibility of my not keeping the engagement,” she replied with a significant look at the boys.
He chuckled. “No, I don’t suppose there was.”
“I say, sir, can we see the horses now?”
“We are most frightfully keen.”
“I hardly slept a
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