Miss Ryder's Memoirs Read online

  “Now, now, there's no need to lay a hand on me, my dear fellow,” he protested, in a mild drawl that almost made me laugh.

  Cousin Bret's voice was much more penetrating. “What do you mean by this intrusion? Our lands are clearly marked. I've a mind to send for a constable."

  “Have you? Well, I'm sure you must do precisely as you wish. For my part, I'll be heading on up to the manor house, if you'll be so kind as to return my horse to me."

  “And how do I know this is your horse?” Cousin Bret asked, an obvious insult intended by his tone. “I've never laid eyes on you before in my life, so don't pretend that you are known at the manor."

  “No, Robert's not there to vouch for me,” the stranger admitted, “but I daresay that won't matter. I have his commission in my pocket. No, no, I have no intention of showing it to you. It's addressed quite clearly to Mrs. Ryder and I have every confidence that you are not she."

  He knew Robert! Oh, God. I would never hear the end of this. First he would tell my mother—for my own good, of course; they always say that—and then he would tell Robert. I climbed out of the pond and hopped up to the ledge where my gown lay, wet and bedraggled. Not that it made any difference. Dutch blinked sleepily up at me from his spot on the rock.

  From the distance I heard Mr. Hughes speak for the first time. “It's a fine horse you have here, sir. If I can be helping you with directions to the manor, you've only to ask. Was it a shortcut you was intending?"

  Good old Hughes. No one could be better at ferreting out information in the politest possible way. He sounded so respectful, compared with my cousin. But then, most everyone did. Cousin Bret had managed to offend just about everyone since he arrived for his annual summer visit. He was far too old at twenty-one to keep coming around here each summer as though he were still a child. I don't know why Robert hadn't warned him off this year. Papa would have been disgusted by the way Cousin Bret had turned out, all bossy and proud. There was very little to interest him at Hastings, except perhaps my sister. And even Amanda wasn't odd enough to be taken in by Cousin Bret.

  The stranger was explaining to Hughes that the glimmer of water on such an oppressive day had indeed tempted him to cut across country. “Apollo was in need of a drink, to say nothing of myself. I must have fallen asleep in the shade."

  “That sun's a killer today,” Hughes agreed. “Good thing your horse didn't wander off."

  “Oh, Apollo's not in the habit of doing that,” the man assured him. I could hear the creak of the saddle as he swung himself up. “If you'll just point me in the direction of the manor..."

  As the hoofbeats receded, I listened for Cousin Bret's comment, but he was strangely silent. Mr. Hughes said only, “Fine-looking fellow. Must have met Mr. Robert in London. Perhaps we can look forward to Mr. Robert paying us a visit soon."

  “Not likely,” Cousin Bret sneered.

  And I feared he was right, much as I hated to admit it. Robert seemed to have lost all taste for the country life. I tugged on my damp shift, which felt clammy against my skin. The hot sun would dry everything out in no time, but the thought brought little solace when I thought of what lay in store for me at home. I tied my rumpled bonnet securely under my chin and carried my shoes and stockings to the narrow entrance. The basset waddled down off the rocks and splashed into the water behind me. We made quite a procession heading back to Hastings.

  Chapter 2

  I managed to get all the way to the house without seeing anyone. There's a kitchen garden just off the pantry that I was in the habit of frequenting when I was a child. Mrs. Cooper is still very pleased whenever I show up in her domain. Though I must admit that she looked rather taken aback by my rumpled appearance.

  “Your sister will have a good laugh if she sees you, Miss Catherine,” she said as she wiped her big red hands on the sacking apron she wore. “No more's the wonder. Your bonnet might have been run over by a carriage, by the looks of it."

  “Very nearly,” I quipped. Mrs. Cooper does not allow any of the dogs in her kitchen, not even Dutch, so he whimpered outside as I shut the door behind me. “I'll have one of those plums if you'd be so good as to allow me.''

  “Just one, then up to your room to change. There's company.” She said this with a meaningful toss of her head. “A very presentable young man, Milly says."

  Milly thinks just about every young man is very presentable, but in this instance I happened to agree, so far as his looks were concerned.

  “Who is he?” I asked in a very casual way.

  Mrs. Cooper frowned slightly, trying to remember. “Let me see. It sounded like a field, I think. Meddows. That was it. Sir John Meddows. Acquainted with Mr. Robert, he is. Had a letter for the missus from your brother. She was that glad to get it, what with him being so absent-minded about his family."

  A distinct disapproval colored her speech, though I can assure you that Robert is her favorite. Everyone is so disappointed that Robert has taken the country in dislike and developed a positive affection for the city. I remember the first time he visited London. He was disgusted then with the noise and the cost of everything. But that was when he was seven, and he has changed a great deal since then.

  “Well, I believe I feel the headache coming on.” No reason to run straight into the lion's den, so far as I could see. “Perhaps I'll just lie down a bit. If I miss Robert's friend it will be a great shame, of course, but this heat is awful and I shouldn't like to become sick from it."

  “You don't look sick.” Her dark eyes ranged from my rosy face to my dusty feet. “I'm sure your mama would want you to join them, if you feel at all up to it.''

  “Perhaps in a while,” I said in a failing voice. I shouldn't have done that. Mrs. Cooper is no one's fool. Her eyes sharpened and I could see she was about to question me, so I skipped past her and palmed one of the purple plums. “Just quizzing you.” I laughed as I bounded for the back stairs. “But the sun does beat straight through a thin cotton bonnet..."

  By the time I'd reached my room, I was very curious about this friend of Robert's. It seemed suspicious to me that he had arrived when Robert was away. And it was certainly not at all likely that a legitimate fellow would have sat and stared at a naked woman swimming on Hastings land. In fact, the more I thought about it, the more I became convinced that he would not dare tell on me. After all, I would come right back with his own improper behavior, and my family was obliged to believe me. They would have no trouble believing that I had found a private bathing pond and would do something so unconventional as to swim naked there. Not that I'd done anything of the sort before, but they'd seen me through plenty of scrapes.

  I took off the yellow gown and dropped it on the floor, noticing as I did so that the sun had turned my skin pink all over. Mercy! But no one was going to know that if I wore a gown that covered most of me, as the lot of them did, since Amanda was forever involving herself in my wardrobe. Mama was convinced that Amanda had impeccable taste, as well as a sense of decorum that was entirely denied me. It was but one of many trials Amanda created in my life.

  When I had dipped a cloth in the ewer and rinsed off my face, I felt a great deal better. I was even convinced that I looked rather attractive in this flushed state, and the idea began to grow in me that I would join Mama and this stranger after all. Let him try to stare me down! It was he who should be put out of countenance by my arrival, though somehow I doubted he would be.

  Choosing a gown was easy. In the wardrobe there were only pale pastels and whites, dresses that I had acquired for my one Season in London and that I'd been wearing for the two years since. None of them seemed particularly interesting to me by now—few of them ever had—but at least the soft green with the draped bodice would still be considered a bit out of the ordinary. (Amanda hadn't been there when we chose it.) Green has a way of bringing out the color of my eyes and is a superior shade to wear against my auburn hair.

  Without my maid's help I couldn't have gotten downstairs in under an hour becau
se the water had tangled my hair so desperately. Milly is a good girl, though prone to ask awkward questions, such as “However did you get your hair in such a rat's nest, Miss Catherine?” I palmed her off with some absent-minded excuse, because I was eager to hear her impression of our visitor.

  “He's ever so handsome, miss,” she told me with a little sway of her shoulders. “And very well spoken. A friend of Mr. Robert's, I believe. Sir John Meddows, his card said. A baronet. Do you think Miss Amanda would like to marry a baronet?"

  Her question caught me completely off guard. “Amanda? What has she to do with anything?"

  “Why, miss, didn't I say? The gentleman caught a glimpse of her in the garden as he rode in, and he was so struck by her beauty that he sat astride his horse for a full five minutes staring at her. I know, because I saw it all from the drawing-room window. Proper stunned, he was.” Milly sighed at this example of the most romantic of experiences. She's a great believer in love at first sight, our Milly. There isn't a footman who's been added to our staff who wasn't declared struck dumb by his instant passion for one of the parlor maids.

  “How very rude of him to stare.” Really, the man had no finesse at all. Amanda is indeed as pretty as a picture, if you're inclined to admire the fainting, placid-angel type. All that blond hair peeking out from under her bonnets, curling down her back. No doubt she had heard his horse and was posing for him, in the event it was Jeremy Woods from over to Newmarket.

  Milly was affronted by my declaration. “Nothing of the sort, Miss Catherine! He was afluster with apology when Miss Amanda looked up and caught him at it. Made her the prettiest speech you ever heard."

  He certainly hadn't made me a pretty speech, the villain. Now I was getting a better idea of his vast duplicity. And that made me impatient to join my family. He might be trying to take advantage of them, even now.

  “That will do, thank you, Milly,” I said as she pushed in one more pin to hold up the mass of my hair. She loves to part it in the center with two wings over my forehead, and the bulk of it twisted into a flaming knot at the top of my head. Amanda professes to be very sorry for me for the color of my hair, but I would far rather have this glowing chestnut shade than her pale, insipid yellow.

  They were all in the gold drawing room when I reached it: Mama, Amanda, and Sir John Meddows. I didn't realize at the pond that he was so large a man, quite six feet tall, I would say, with impressive shoulders. When he rose to greet me, there was not even a flicker of recognition in his eyes.

  “And this is Robert's other sister?” he said, stepping forward to grasp my hand. “How delighted I am to meet you. Your brother is not so forthcoming as I had thought, since he neglected to mention how lovely were the three ladies awaiting him here at Hastings."

  “How do you do, Sir John?” I withdrew my hand instantly from his warm clasp. It was too much, reminding me of him sitting there by the water, observing my naked body. I could hardly be so casual as he, though I eyed him quite boldly and with my most haughty expression. Which is not particularly haughty, I am told, after all. “What has brought you to our neighborhood?"

  He smiled pleasantly and waited until I had seated myself before taking his place beside Mama on the sofa. “Your brother Robert assures me that the best bred horses in England are to be found at Hinchly Farms, not five miles from here. I want to find a pair for myself, and he begged me to look out a new pair for him as well. Apparently his old grays aren't so lively any longer."

  Robert's grays! They were Papa's grays, to everyone at Hastings. And we expected them to live forever. “You must see that he returns the grays here, when he replaces them,” I insisted. “We're all very fond of them."

  “So your mother was telling me.” He crossed his legs and folded his large hands on his lap, though he didn't look at all like someone who made a habit of morning calls or visiting ladies for tea. Every athletic bone in his body must have cried out to be away from there.

  Such a muscular calf as he had! Lord, I don't think one of the fellows in the area could compete with it. And yet, I didn't remember meeting him when I was in London for my Season. All the gudgeons I met then were the worst of the dandies, with their perfumed handkerchiefs and their dainty airs. No wonder I didn't take! Who would want to take with a bunch of pinks of the ton like that? I couldn't help wondering where Robert had found this man.

  “Sir John was telling us that he comes from Hampshire,” Mama informed me. “He has an estate there that Robert has visited on several occasions."

  There was a certain amount of accusation in her voice. After all, Robert hadn't been to visit us for quite a while.

  “Short visits. And I'm so close to London,” Sir John almost apologized for the occasions.

  “What sort of pair do you need?” I asked. One of my passions is driving, but I've been warned that on no account am I to mention it to strangers, and only to our usual company if they happen to bring the subject up. “Do you drive a curricle?"

  His eyes looked amused, as though I'd said something precocious. “I do. One of my own design, which is a little more hazardous than the usual, I fear. It's balance is a trifle finer, and therefore it's more prone to overset."

  “I should like to see it,” I said, noting that Mama's eyes had narrowed in my direction.

  “Perhaps someday you shall. My groom is bringing it along after me; he had to have the shaft repaired in Littlebury.” He turned to Mama. “Which reminds me. I've spoken for a room in Cambridge at the White Horse, which seemed a perfectly acceptable hostelry. Will they take good care of my horses?"

  “Of course they will!” I asserted at the same time Mama exclaimed, “We wouldn't think of letting you stay at an inn when we have the largest, most comfortable house in the world, and with a staff of stable fellows who could care for your animals far better than any public inn. Really, I'm surprised that Robert wouldn't have told you that you were to stay with us."

  Amanda and I both stared at Mama. It wasn't at all like her to make this kind of offer to a comparative stranger. In many ways, she's a shy woman, as well as being eccentric. Or perhaps she's shy because she's eccentric. In any case, we were surprised, but I think not displeased, that she offered to house the fellow. Amanda because of his dashing looks, no doubt, but me because I was intent on keeping an eye on him. Warning signals were going off in my head, for I was sure there was more to his visit than met the eye.

  Sir John accepted the invitation with becoming hesitation. “If you're sure you have the room. I should hate to put you out.” That sort of thing. But I could tell that he'd never intended to stay at the White Horse at all. Though perhaps he meant to put his pair up there when they arrived.

  “You must bring your luggage straightaway,” Mama urged him. “You'll have the blue bedchamber, next to Robert's room in the east wing. I think you'll like the prospect from the windows. Several of the church spires in Cambridge are visible. You didn't by chance go up to Cambridge, did you?"

  “No, ma'am. I'm an Oxford man myself."

  I wouldn't have taken him to be an educated soul at all. Certainly not of the sort who read Latin in the original and have long, pithy discussions on Sydney Smith's essays in the Edinburgh Review. Papa would have been able to unmask the fellow in short order if he tried to pretend to such learning. But Papa was gone, alas.

  “I could show you around the grounds, if you like,” Amanda offered. “We have some delightful walks at Hastings."

  It's a wonder she didn't expire on the spot, putting herself forward that way. I studied her closely and saw the tint of a blush in her cheeks. She must have felt like a hussy, making such a daring proposal. Ah, it was clear enough that she was taken with the rascal.

  Mama beamed on the two of them. You would have thought I wasn't there at all. Just to throw them into a little disarray, I asked, “Where has Cousin Bret gotten to, I wonder? Usually he's hanging about Amanda in the afternoons."

  The color in my sister's cheeks rose even higher. “It is no
such thing,” she declared hotly. “I understand Cousin Bretford is out with the estate manager, gathering a little information about crops and such."

  Amanda knows absolutely nothing about “crops and such.” Nor does Robert. And I'm afraid I'm not all that knowledgeable myself, though certainly a great deal more than the two of them put together.

  Sir John laughed. “I hope you have no intention of interesting me in the crops when we make our little excursion,” he teased. “The grounds and the woods are much more to my taste."

  I was sure of it. He probably thought he could get Amanda among the trees and ravish her. Well, perhaps not ravish her, but kiss her at least. I could see how his gaze remained on her full, pouty mouth. Why does a man think it famous to spend time with a pouty woman? My understanding of men is of the smallest, I daresay, but I have no respect for the ones who want a woman they can wrap about their fingers. That may be because no one could wrap me around his finger.

  Sir John agreed that he would like nothing better than to be taken through the grounds by Amanda—when he returned with his portmanteau and his carriage from the inn later that evening. Would he be with us to dine, Mama asked. Yes, he would certainly be here by then, he assured her. As he took his leave, he smiled kindly upon each of us, but I thought there was a slight twist to his lips when he looked at me, a rather sardonic twist.

  “I look forward to seeing you again soon,” he said. To my ears there was an undercurrent of mockery to his voice. No one else seemed to notice.

  I could hardly wait until he was out of the house before begging to see Robert's letter. Mama dug it out of the deep pocket in her dress and straightened it out before handing it to me. “Your brother speaks very highly of Sir John,” she remarked. “I hope you will be pleasant to him."

  “Pleasant? Of course I shall be pleasant to him. When am I anything but pleasant to anyone?"