His eyes, sparking with indignation, raked her composed face, but he reached for the pen lying between them, dipped it in the standish and angrily scratched his signature on the document.
“If you would date it as well,” Mr. Thomas suggested diffidently.
With a mumbled oath, Rushton did so. He found it difficult to maintain his seat, so great was his annoyance, and he withdrew the purchase price from his coat and thumped it down on the desk. Selina picked it up and handed it to Mr. Thomas, who calmly counted it while Rushton contemplated strangling the both of them.
“The sum is correct,” Mr. Thomas murmured as he carefully wrapped the bills in a pouch he had extracted from his voluminous pocket. “You sign the deed just here, Miss Easterly-Cummings.”
Selina signed where he had indicated and turned to smile at Rushton, in spite of his fierce frown. “The vale is now yours, Mr. Rushton. I hope you will enjoy it.”
“I have every intention of enjoying it,” he grumbled as he rose.
Selina hesitantly cast an appealing glance at Mr. Thomas. “I wonder if you would excuse us a moment, sir. There is a matter I wished to discuss with Mr. Rushton before he leaves.”
“Certainly, my dear. I think our business is concluded in any case.” The banker bowed to Rushton and took Selina’s hand before making his departure.
Left alone, the two eyed one another warily and Selina motioned him to seat himself, saying, “If you would just give me a moment of your time.”
With reluctant ill grace, Rushton acceded to her wishes. “What is it?”
“This is definitely not the time to broach the matter, I know, when you are feeling so out of sorts, but...The fact of the matter is that I have brought someone here to be introduced to you, and now you will most certainly give him short shrift. And I didn’t have him come because I in any way feel that you must use a local architect. That is not a part of the agreement at all! I thought you might be interested in meeting him because he has designed several hunting-boxes, and he did Sir Penrith’s stables, and he has been invaluable to me at Shalbrook with a number of problems...” Selina allowed her voice to trail off under his malevolent glare.
“You had the temerity to invite an architect here to meet me? Without asking my permission? Who the devil do you think you are, Miss Easterly-Cummings? I am not your cousin Henry to be ordered about and kept on leading-strings. Did you think I would be unable to find my own architect? Did you expect me to hire some obscure nobody to design a hunting-box for me? I suppose I must thank you for your thoughtfulness, though I had rather call it infernal meddling.”
Selina bit her lip and did not dare to meet his gaze. “You are right, of course. I should never have done it, and I apologize. There is no need for you to meet him at all. You see, I thought you would be in an accommodating mood once you owned the land, and would agree out of benevolence to meet the young man. I had no way of knowing that you would be so astonishingly upset by the contract, when it was no more than we had agreed verbally.”
“It was insulting.”
“Yes, I am sure that if the situation were reversed, and I were buying the land from you, you would not have hesitated to accept my word,” she retorted, an edge to her voice.
“The situations are not comparable.”
“No, certainly not. Women have no honor. It is reserved exclusively for men, and naturally they are deserving of such a monopoly. Everyone knows that women are giddy things, incapable of managing business affairs, unable to sustain a thought long enough to write it down.” Selina rose and faced him. “I shall not detain you longer, Mr. Rushton. I believe I have apologized for my absurd conduct, and no doubt you will take into consideration my frail hold on reality, being a female, when you judge me. Good day, sir.” Her hands were clenched behind her back and in her agitation she did not notice the library door open.
Henry erupted into the room saying, “Selina, what is taking so long? Lord John Brindly is waiting in the gold drawing room. Servant, Rushton.”
“Mr. Rushton has no need of Lord John’s services, Henry, and has not the time to meet him today. If you will just tell him that I will be with him in a moment, we can discuss the estate cottages, as I had mentioned in my note.”
While Rushton fixed her with a sharp gaze, Henry said cheerfully, “Right you are,” and left the room as precipitately as he had entered.
“Cathford’s younger brother?” Rushton asked abruptly.
“One of them. The Marquess of Ashbourne has four sons, I believe. Lord John is the third.”
“You might have told me.”
“I would have, had you been more amenable to my scheme. Lord John has built himself something of a reputation here in Leicestershire, though I doubt he is known in London for his architectural skills.”
“His eldest brother is a friend of mine.”
“How nice for you.”
An overwhelming desire to shake her paralyzed Rushton for a moment. Obviously in spite of her more conventional attire, she was just as exasperating, just as eccentric as ever. He had had no clear idea of whom he intended to employ as an architect, though he had read Elsam’s
Essay on Rural Architecture
some years previously, and had been fascinated by some of the ideas in the book. If he had realized that Cathford’s younger brother had some experience, certainly he would have looked into the matter further, but to have this high-handed young woman force Lord John on his notice was too much to stomach. On the other hand, he could not very well ignore an introduction to one of his best friends’ brothers, no matter how it came about. “I should like to meet Lord John,” he said stiffly.
“As you wish, of course,” Selina replied, making an attempt to disguise her amusement. “If you will follow me, Mr. Rushton.”
After he held the door for her, he loosened his cravat in a vain attempt to ease his gall. He was not in the habit of being laughed at by ladies of his acquaintance, and he found the experience not in the least elevating. It made no difference, either, that she pressed her lips together that way, when he could easily see the laughter in her eyes. Miss Easterly-Cummings was deserving of a first class set-down, and Mr. Rushton intended, at the earliest convenient moment, to deliver one which she would not forget. Unfortunately, the present was not a particularly propitious time to do so.
A young man of medium height, with sandy-colored hair and an open countenance, rose on their entry, breaking off his dialogue with Henry. He came forward with his hand outstretched to Selina. “My dear Miss Easterly-Cummings, it is a pleasure to see you again! Cathford made me promise to convey his regards when last he wrote, since he cannot be here for the hunting this year. You are looking splendid.”
‘Thank you, Lord John. I don’t believe you know Mr. Rushton, though he tells me he is a friend of your brother’s.
“I’ve heard him mention your name, sir. A pleasure. Are you at Oak Park, then? Cathford had intended to visit Sir Penrith, but found he could not tear himself away from Ashbourne Hall just now,” he said, with a decided grin.
“Yes, I hear Miss Donningsby and her family are visiting. Penrith was disappointed but he seems to have adjusted very well. Hunts four days out of seven,” Rushton informed him, “though it would probably be more if Cathford had come.”
“A great trial for my brother, I assure you. Said he only gets out twice a week, if he’s lucky. Miss Easterly-Cummings mentioned you were buying some land here to build a hunting-box. Did she tell you I have a finger in architecture these days? Not as acceptable to one’s family as soldiering or divining, more’s the pity, but I have always had the most pronounced interest, and my father don’t mind, you know. Keeps me out of the gaming hells, he says, begging your pardon, Miss Easterly-Cummings. I should not like to impose on your friendship with my brother, but I have brought a few drawings of boxes I’ve done, if you should care to take a look at them. And perhaps you know that I did Sir Penrith’s stables last year?”
Rushton studied the eager young man with rueful tolerance. Although Lord John bore a remarkable likeness to his older brother, there were distinct differences in their personalities. No one would have described Cathford as outgoing; though he had charming manners and was extraordinarily well-bred, there was a definite reserve about him. The contrast with this easygoing, forthright young man was not to the latter’s disadvantage, however. Rushton found himself liking Lord John at the outset. “Penrith had not mentioned who designed the stables, but I was impressed with how well they blended with the other buildings. I should like very much to see your drawings.”
“Perhaps Henry and I should excuse ourselves, Lord John, so that you and Mr. Rushton may speak more freely,” Selina suggested.
“No, no, that’s not in the least necessary,” the young man protested.
Henry exclaimed, “But, Selina, I have the greatest desire to see the drawings!”
“If it is agreeable with Lord John and Mr. Rushton, I have no objection.” Selina could not doubt that Mr. Rushton would be relieved by her absence, and she walked to the door. “I hope you will take as long as you wish, Lord John. Perhaps you would wait on me in the library when you have finished.”
There were always any number of matters to occupy Selina’s time when she sat in the library, where she kept the record of estate expenditures and income, her own personal accounts and the household books. When her father had died, she had been left the ward of a distant relation, recently moved to Cornwall, who had no interest in overseeing the management of her inheritance, and she had been forced to assume the responsibility herself. The meek woman her guardian had insisted on thrusting on her had stayed, almost perpetually in her own room, until the day after Selina’s twenty-first birthday, when she had precipitately departed, announcing that the manor was too damp for her comfort. Mrs. Morrow had been of no help in any of the matters which had occupied Selina’s time; she had in fact been nicknamed “The Elusive Shadow” by the cousins long before her departure.
With several leather-bound ledgers resting in front of her, Selina attempted to concentrate her attention on bringing the books up to date, but her mind continually wandered. When she had erroneously entered a household expense under the Home Farm, she snapped the books shut and pushed them aside, allowing her gaze to fall on the bleak landscape outside. If she had not arranged to speak with Lord John about the estate cottages, she would have found some relief in a gallop across the fields.
Selina acknowledged to herself that Mr. Rushton had disconcerted her. Certainly he was handsome and had considerable address when he chose to use it, as he had the evening he had dined with her, but he had not the first idea how to cope with a woman in a business situation for all his social finesse. She had seen his type in Margate and Tunbridge Wells, and especially in Bath. Sophisticated men who dressed elegantly, flirted outrageously and kept a mistress on the side. Men who gambled recklessly and drove their carriages with the skill of a coachman. Men who rode to hounds and entered their prize race-horses at Newmarket. They could be surprisingly appealing men, as she well knew, but they were frivolous hedonists, when all was said and done. Of course, one might
superficially
describe Sir Penrith in the same way, but underneath Pen had a goodness which Selina respected. Pen would have understood about the contract, and not made such a fuss.
It was wrong of me, she thought restlessly as she drummed a pen on the desk, to presume on Mr. Rushton by bringing Lord John here without consulting him. But I do not think it was wrong, or even misguided, of me to have him sign the contract. And I was not stubborn about it, merely firm. He would have made me do the same were the situation reversed, and he knows it. An insult indeed! Well, he has what he wants now, and I shan’t have to see him again, and it does not matter in the very least that he has misunderstood me.
When there was a summons at the door, Selina glared at it for a moment before calling, “Come in.”
His face alight with glee, Lord John strode into the room. “Ah, you are an angel to have gone to this trouble for me, Miss Easterly-Cummings. Mr. Rushton says he will use me as his architect.”
“Has he left?”
“Yes, Henry was showing him out.”
“I see. Do sit down and tell me all about it, Lord John. I am so pleased for you.”
Chapter Nine
In an effort to restore his disposition, Rushton drove from Shalbrook to the small piece of land he had just purchased. The sun was making an attempt to break through the heavy clouds, and a beam of light escaped to shine down on the clearing he envisioned as the site for the house. With an unusual disregard for his gleaming Hessians, and his pair of chestnuts, he tied them to the rails and vaulted over onto the muddy ground and began to pace about the property. The cut-and-laid fences appeared to be in good order, though it occurred to him that he did not know whether they belonged to Lord Benedict or himself. He would have to ask Miss Easterly-Cummings about that. No, devil take her, he had no intention of asking her for so much as the time of day. If necessary he would have a surveyor come and mark the boundaries out for him, should the deed itself not be specific enough. He returned to the curricle to extract the deed from the pocket where he had placed it. A careful study of the wording indicated that the south and west fences were his, while the east and north apparently belonged to Lord Benedict.
The sound of pounding hooves attracted his attention and he raised his head to watch the approach of a solitary horseman, who reined in as he came abreast of the curricle. There was something vaguely familiar about the younger man, but Rushton could not say for certain that he was acquainted with him. Probably he had seen the fellow in London; all the dandies had come to look the same to him. Even the fellow’s riding coat was nipped in at the waist, and he wore it over bright yellow buckskins with matching yellow-topped black top boots.
“I say, you must be the gentleman Selina is selling the land to,” Lord Benedict cried as he slid from his mount. “Wretched girl! I’ve tried to buy it from her these last three years but she’s as stubborn as a mule! Said she intended to keep it herself, and then look what she does. Did she really retain the right of first refusal if you sell it?”