The Aim Of A Lady Read online

  “Is there no legend hereabouts to explain it?”

  “Dozens of them, and I find none of them acceptable.” She gave a shudder. “Shall we start for home?” When they emerged from the church they were greeted by Allison and Walter Dodge, a brother and sister whom Diana had known since her childhood.

  Alma watched the meeting curiously, for there was that in Walter Dodge’s expression when he gazed on Diana which intrigued him. It was not difficult to see that Dodge was in love with Diana; and although Diana spoke warmly to him and teased the two with the ease of long affection, it was just as obvious that she did not return his regard. He heard Diana issue an invitation to her friends, “For we will need company, with George scurrying off for London the day after he arrived, and Lord Alma unable to ride due to an accident. Will you come tomorrow? Mrs. Lewis is arriving this afternoon to stay with me and I should not like to throw her into a fret her first afternoon.”

  After the Dodges agreed to present themselves the following morning, the two groups diverged. Diana set an easy pace, but Alma’s limp became more pronounced when they had still a half-mile to walk. “I am sorry you’re in pain, Lord Alma,” she said suddenly. “I have underestimated how fatiguing the walk to the village is.”

  She did not like the drawn look about his face, but she knew that he was determined to continue until he dropped. Abruptly she drew the shawl from about her shoulders and laid it on the path. They could not be seen because of the dense growth of the trees, newly coming into leaf, and she seated herself on an edge of the shawl.

  Alma gazed at her in astonishment and his mouth tightened. “I am perfectly capable of continuing our walk, Miss Savile.”

  “Oh, don’t be a gudgeon! What do you think it will prove to me or you if you continue to walk until you fall on your face? Do you want me to see that happen?”

  “It will not happen.”

  “Certainly not, because you are going to lie down right now.” When he continued to regard her obstinately she continued, “I have no intention of leaving this spot until you have rested. Please?”

  Exasperated, he gazed at her for a moment and then abruptly stretched himself full-length on his stomach on the shawl. He refused to look at her, and she began to hum a song softly, accompanied by the bird calls about them. His exhaustion overcame him and it was an hour before he awoke, refreshed and angry.

  “Why did you let me sleep?” he protested.

  “Why not? Are we in a hurry to be back?” She folded the damp shawl and tucked it under her arm as they continued their walk. “Shall I tell you what I think about when I sit quietly for a while?”

  “If you wish,” he grumbled, caught between curiosity and annoyance.

  “I think about all the things I don’t know, and the things that I don’t even know I don’t know,” she said with a laugh. “And then I decide what I shall concentrate on learning next, and I wonder whether there will be anything about it in our library. George has a marvelous library, of course, but it cannot begin to satisfy my curiosity on certain subjects. Then I have to go to Cambridge to see what I can find. Do you like to wander through stores where they have old books? It is quite a hobby of mine.”

  Alma looked rather startled. “What sorts of things are you curious about, Miss Savile?”

  “Different things at different times. When I was younger I wanted to know the names of all the trees and plants that grew in the Park. Then I started to help Mr. Thatcher and I became very interested in medicine. Once, when we had an accident on the road, I wished to learn about road repair. There is a blind gentleman in Yorkshire, a Mr. John Metcalf, who is especially noted for his construction of roads and bridges. Imagine being sightless and knowing how to build roads over marshes!”

  “How thoroughly do you study each of the subjects you choose, Miss Savile?”

  “Oh, not so much as you probably suppose. I know a tiny bit about many things, but I never seem to finish studying something before a new interest crops up and I have abandoned my previous one. I am rather shatter- brained about it, I fear, but I enjoy it all the same.”

  “Did you decide on something new to study while you waited for me to wake up?” he asked, a note of bitterness creeping into his voice.

  “I did not wait for you, Lord Alma. I could have gone on to the Park had I wished. Actually, when I am thinking about all those possibilities for learning something new, I quite forget where I am. Did you picture me sitting there impatient to be on my way and annoyed with you for holding me back?” When he did not answer her, she smiled shyly at him and said, “I hope you will forgive me, but I forgot all about you until you spoke to me.”

  Alma laughed, then said, “Oh, I believe you, Miss Savile, and you are forgiven, but you did not answer my question. Have you decided on something new to study?”

  “Well, I cannot decide between the birds or the times when Nicholas Paris lived,” she said thoughtfully. “I’ve never finished my study of birds, but I am intrigued by what life was like in 1427. Do you know anything about that period?”

  “Yes, more than I wish to,” he confessed. “Shall I send to Stillings for some books for you? I studied the period when I was up at Oxford.”

  “Did you? And you would send for some of your books?”

  “Certainly. You could study birds until they arrive,” he said, laughter dancing in his eyes.

  “You are as bad as George, Lord Alma,” she sighed. “Are you not curious about things? George translates Greek and Latin sometimes, but I must confess that I would rather simply read the same works in my own language for I have never mastered another.”

  “Not even French?” he asked, surprised.

  “I can speak a few phrases, but my governess despaired of me and settled for globes instead. I have a solid knowledge of geography.”

  “Thank heaven. How would one survive without a knowledge of geography?” he teased. “What a strange combination you are—an archer, a student of geography, a fencer, an assistant apothecary...”

  “I am ashamed of myself,” she admitted seriously. “I do not seem to be able to study anything long enough to understand it really thoroughly. I once asked Cook to teach me about preparing foods and I worked at it for some time, but I became distracted by an interest in archeology. Cook did not speak to me for several weeks except when necessary. But I can plan a menu better now, and I should not starve if I had to provide for myself, so I suppose it was worth the time and trouble with cook. George told you I fence with him sometimes?”

  Alma, bewildered by the rapid change of subject, nodded his head.

  “And you will fence with me? I could teach you archery in exchange ... if you were interested,” she said, the latter part of the sentence becoming more hesitant as he eyed him dubiously.

  “It would be my pleasure,” he found himself replying, much to his own surprise. Well, he had conceived an interest in seeing her fencing outfit, if George was so impressed with it.

  She smiled warmly at him. “Thank you, Lord Alma, you are generous.” As they approached the Park, Diana pointed out to him the features of the estate which had been her domain for so many years. The Park was set on a small green incline surrounded by lush lawns and vigorous forest growth of pines and oak. The house itself was of warm tan stone mellowed over two centuries to a richness in keeping with its setting. Deer grazed near the Home Wood and the hedges were filled with game. The kitchen gardens behind the house were extensive and well cared for, the balustraded terraces and flower gardens no less so. Parts of the stables were as ancient as the house, the rest more modern but architecturally in keeping with their predecessors.

  Diana could see beyond to the meadows and pastures, to her archery range and the orchards. Although it could not be seen because of the trees which flourished on its banks, the river ran through the Park, and opposite the river, also out of sight, was the stud farm.

  Diana turned to Alma uncertainly. “Luncheon is at one. Shall you join me?”

  “I
cannot sit.”

  “Never mind. We shall stand at the sideboard and eat with our fingers,” she suggested gaily.

  “Then I shall join you, Miss Savile.” As Alma turned away in the hall, he thought about what George had said the previous evening. If one considered the strange Miss Savile as a younger brother, one was indeed no longer blue-devilled. He could not imagine why the Dodge fellow was in love with her; he felt sure there was not an ounce of the coquette in her diminutive figure. In fact, there was no resemblance to any woman he had ever known, and he had known a goodly number of them, he thought complacently. Still, as a younger brother she would do very well, as she was obviously intent on entertaining him. He had not fenced for months.

  Chapter Four

  Mrs. Lewis arrived at the Park midway through the afternoon, having had to return to her cottage once to check that the fire was out. Diana welcomed her and saw that she was settled in her room, done in shades of blue which delighted the old woman. When Mrs. Lewis was introduced to Lord Alma, she was puzzled that he continued to stand, and although he urged her to seat herself she was too much in awe of his title to do so. Therefore she continued to stand, even though she became weary and disgruntled. Diana had disappeared on a domestic errand and returned to find the two of them eyeing each other skeptically. Her lips quivered as she said, “You must be seated, Mrs. Lewis. Lord Alma is unable to do so, owing to his accident.”

  Neither of the two seemed satisfied with this explanation, but Mrs. Lewis eventually seated herself when Diana did, and Lord Alma left for his room. Because the day had chilled somewhat, Diana asked that a fire be laid on the hearth, and she adjusted the horse screen to Mrs. Lewis’ pleasure before drawing up to her an elaborate worktable with a fabric-hung workbox drawer. Aware of the old lady’s passion for embroidery, Diana assisted her to unpack the materials which went with her everywhere in an effort to keep her restless fingers busy.

  “I hope you will excuse me, Mrs. Lewis. Lord Alma, being unable to ride, takes a bit of amusing.” She grinned mischievously. “I intend to teach him some archery while he is here.”

  “Do you, my dear? How kind of you. Don’t let me hold you back for I have plenty here to keep me occupied until dinner,” Mrs. Lewis replied cheerily as she set to work, immediately forgetting Diana’s presence altogether.

  When Diana had sent a footman to enquire whether Lord Alma would join her on the archery range, she locked the dog Rogue in the stables, where she stressed the necessity of keeping him until she returned. The stable boy who had released him the previous day flushed and promised to make sure no future escape would take place.

  Diana surveyed the contents of her archery shed— the bows and arrows, the pieces of leather for finger and arm guards. After setting aside her own equipment, she chose a larger bow and longer arrows for Alma. When he arrived she asked him to test the draw, a matter which he did awkwardly, never having handled a bow before. She demonstrated for him and taught him to brace the bow for himself. While demonstrating the proper stance and nocking procedure, she swept her long skirts behind her with a deft movement which amused her companion. Indeed, as he had decided there was not the least bit of coquetry in her action. Diana, unaware of his thoughts, taught him to hold and draw properly, to use an anchor point and the relaxed attitude with which one must release the arrow once it was properly aimed.

  Accustomed to excelling at all forms of sport in which he participated, Alma expected archery to prove no exception. Ignoring Diana’s warning to use guards for his fingers and arm, he was vastly irritated with himself and her, when he was stung by the bowstring after he had released his first arrow, which came nowhere near the target.

  “Confound it, Miss Savile, you are determined to kill me,” he barked.

  “You moved your elbow, Lord Alma.”

  “Well, you didn’t tell me not to.”

  Diana handed him the guards he had refused previously and he accepted them, though he glowered at her menacingly. While he was attaching them, she called his attention to her own method of handling the bow; her arrow landed precisely in the center of the target.

  “Remarkable!” he exclaimed admiringly, forgetting his grievance. After several attempts he began to hit the target with a fair degree of accuracy.

  “Well done, Lord Alma. You will make an excellent archer in no time.”

  “Miss Savile,” he said ominously, “these arrows we’re using, they are not like the one you took from me.”

  Diana flushed guiltily. “No, these are target arrows. I was using hunting arrows yesterday. I ... wanted to see whether I would be as accurate with them.”

  Surprisingly, Alma’s frown became an amused grin, and he shook his head wonderingly. “Just my luck to arrive when you were curious.”

  “Yes, it was very unfortunate,” she sighed, her eyes laughing. “You’re a good sport, Lord Alma. Would you like to see Crusader?”

  Alma was becoming familiar with her rapid changes of subject. “Yes, he should be exercised. I have scheduled a match between him and Barrymore’s Chanticleer at the Spring Meetings, and I sent my groom ahead to London. Have you anyone who can handle him?”

  “I can manage him if he’s well-mannered,” she suggested hesitantly.

  He eyed her skeptically. “You are very small for so large an animal, if you will excuse my saying so.”

  “You know that doesn’t signify if he’s well-trained,” she protested.

  “And if I say he’s not well-trained you will wonder why I own him,” he grumbled, uneasily running a hand through his black hair.

  “If you do not wish me to ride him, I shall not. Why not come to the stables and you can watch me?” Although her eyes beseeched him, she spoke diffidently.

  “Very well.”

  They returned the archery equipment to the shed and proceeded to the stables, where Diana released Rogue. In an ecstasy of delight the dog nearly knocked her over, and Alma again expressed his doubts of her ability to control Crusader.

  Regardless, Diana ordered the horse saddled and wandered around the stables with Alma during the wait pointing out the horses bred at the Park. When Crusader was ready, Jenkins spoke confidently to his mistress. “He’s pretty-behaved, Miss Diana. I misdoubt me you will have any trouble with him.”

  She nodded and allowed him to hand her into the saddle, all the while a whisper of encouragement to the horse on her lips. The dappled stallion fidgeted momentarily but obeyed the firm hand on his reins. After she had ridden him about in the immediate vicinity of the stables for a few minutes, she turned questioning eyes to Alma. He nodded brusquely.

  It was unnecessary to urge the stallion to the gallop. Her first indication that she would hold him in no longer was responded to by a rapid lengthening of his stride. Although Diana had ridden horses all her life, magnificent beasts as were always housed at the Park, she had never been on so powerful an animal. The speed he gained caused the wind to knock her bonnet back onto her shoulders; her hair whipped against her face, almost blinding her for a moment. She was afraid to raise a hand to brush it back lest she lose control of him. They were rapidly approaching a fence, and, for a moment, her heart failed her; but the very enthusiasm with which Crusader approached it gave her courage, and they sailed over it like drifting birds.

  Diana gently reined in the horse and he responded immediately. When she had him at a walk, she secured the bonnet on her head once more, the recalcitrant lock of hair firmly imprisoned beneath. They retraced their paths to the stables at a more leisurely gait and she allowed Alma to lift her down, his eyebrows raised in query.

  “I have never ridden such a horse, and it was very exciting, but I shall not do so again. He is too much for me, as you said.” She bit her lip unhappily as she handed the reins to Jenkins.

  “You were frightened?” Alma asked gently.

  Her lips quivered slightly and she nodded. “My bonnet came off and with my hair in my eyes I couldn’t see ... well. I cannot remember when I have ever
been afraid on a horse before, and George had me riding almost before I could walk.” There was a suspicion of moisture in her eyes.

  “It is nothing to be ashamed of, Miss Savile,” he said hearteningly. “I should not have allowed you to ride him. I had forgotten the first time I rode him...”

  “What happened?”

  He gave an embarrassed laugh. “I was very sure of myself, you know. He was bred for racing but I was determined to buy him. I was very nearly knocked off when I jumped him over a style too near a tree and a branch lashed me so hard I almost lost my seat. I am accustomed to him now, of course, and had forgotten how unsettling his power can be.” He smiled down at her, pleased to see that the moisture in her eyes had disappeared.

  “Perhaps Jenkins can exercise him, or Walter, when he comes to visit.”

  “Walter?”

  “Walter Dodge. You met him this morning in the village. He and his sister are to come tomorrow.”

  Alma indeed remembered the love-sick Walter. “You think he will be able to handle Crusader?”

  “Certainly, but I will caution him. He is very seldom so cocksure as to make a mistake.”

  Although Diana said this with no intention of deprecation, Alma eyed her sharply. No, he did not believe she was mocking him, or even herself, but merely making a statement of fact. “I take it the Dodges live nearby?”

  “Yes, their land marches with George’s to the east. They are quite a large family. Walter is the eldest, and then two brothers who are at Cambridge, then Allison with another two sisters following. Mr. and Mrs. Dodge are the best of neighbors, forever enlisting the large landholders in efforts to reduce the suffering in the neighborhood. George is mostly from home, but he trusts me to use my discretion in assisting in their projects.”