Lord Iverbrook's Heir Part 22

cheese and chalk, and if Hugh should object, I'll not marry him, I vow!"

"Do not say such a thing, dearest! Of course you will marry him, and live happily where and with whom he chooses."

"I am not so conformable. I have no ambition to rule the roost but I do not mean to let him dictate to me.

He will be wanting to run my farm, next!"

Selena retired to the library in a decidedly ruffled state of mind. Marriage to the viscount suddenly looked less like the blissful future she had envisioned, more like a source of endless complications and strife.

The way the corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled; his gentle teasing and quick understanding of

her own; his forgiveness of her temper, his admiration for her competence, his nascent idealism and determination to better the lot of his fellow man; were these enough to set in the balance against the disruption of her life, the loss of autonomy, perhaps the loss of all she had worked for for so many years?

She sat at her desk, gazing blankly down the long room, trying to work out what she wanted most.

Her mother and sister liked him. Peter adored him. That must weigh with her. Peter's future weighed

heavily on Hugh's side. So did the memory of his arms around her, of the shivering thrill that swept through her at his touch, his mouth on hers . . .

The door opened and he came in. She looked at him, startled, unable to connect the reality with the

dream.

"Come here," he said.

Like a sleepwalker she went to him and was enfolded in his arms.

"I've missed you," he muttered into her curls.

"Oh Hugh, twelve hours!"

"Thirteen hours and twenty-three minutes. I was afraid you might change your mind."

She had to prove to him that, rather to her own surprise, she had not, so it was some time before she

was able to ask the question that had seemed all important.

"Hugh, where shall we live?"

"Here, I hope, at Milford Manor. It will be best for Peter, will it not? You do not want to set up in state

at Iver Place, do you?" he asked apprehensively."Good heavens, no! I should not dare to try to displace your mama, or the pigs.""Good.""I shall be the Viscountess Iverbrook! Shall I have to be very . . . stately and proper and aristocratic?""Sometimes, perhaps. I am head of a large family of distant relatives, most of whom I have not seen for years, and once I have taken my seat in the House I suppose there will be occasions of state. I am as little practised as you! I know you will be equal to it, for when you are dressed up in all your finery, you have the bearing of a queen."

She blushed. "And when I am not dressed up?" she asked.

"You look like a farmer! Selena, I shall have to spend some time in London, in Parliament and working with Wilberforce. Will you come with me? If I find you a good bailiff who will follow your orders and manage the marketing and castrating of the bullocks? Will you come with me?"

Selena twisted in his arms until she could see his face. He looked so uncertain, half hopeful, half doubtful, that she had to kiss him.

"If you promise to take care of the harvest for me," she said teasingly, "then I promise to go to London with you. Hugh, Mama says that if we choose to live here, she and Delia will rent a house nearby and . . ."

"Never! You cannot mean to turn your mother out of her home!"

"Hush, love, it is her notion, not mine. If you protest as vehemently as I already have, I am sure we will change her mind."

"I most certainly shall protest! I shall tell her I am marrying you for your family and that she is an essential part of your dowry."

"And not my farm? You will not try to take over the farm?"

"Heaven forbid! The harvest is quite as much farming as I care to indulge in. Unless, of course, you mean to take up pig farming, in which case I shall most definitely interfere!"

"We do have a few pigs," she said thoughtfully. "I daresay you have not seen them. Come to think of it, there is room for a few more pens. We could even convert some of the cow byres, and keep the next few litters of piglets instead of selling them . . ."

"Selena! If I thought for a minute that you were not roasting me!"

"Roast pork is one of my favourite dishes, and one cannot live without bacon and ham and sausage and lard, and pigskin makes excellent leather, not to mention a dozen uses for the bristles."

"That," he said, "is why I am so rich, but believe me, my love, riches are not everything. For instance, I obtained your betrothal present as much by knowledge, influence, and charm as by handing over the ready."

"A betrothal present? Hugh, what is it? You have not had time to buy anything. We have only been betrothed for half a day."

"Roughly fourteen hours and forty-five minutes. I cannot be precise as to the minutes since it was dark and I could not see my watch."

"Odious wretch! What is it, Hugh?"

"A certain three fields, ideal for cattle pasture and most unsuitable for pigs."

"Not Lord Alphonse's watermeadows! You mean the watermeadows? Oh Hugh! But you cannot have purchased them this morning!"

"I had intended to give them to you anyway. You need not marry me to have them. I clinched the deal with Addlepate's man on Monday, since I was in town. Yesterday, that is."

"While I still thought you had run off to avoid having to explain your behaviour at the ball. That seems such a long time ago. I was so miserable when I thought you preferred Amabel to me. She is so beautiful.""If you admire that type of beauty," he said indifferently. "I prefer tall, slender blonds with curly hair andeyes that change colour every time I look into them." Looking into them, he fell silent, then roused himself with an effort. "Selena, I must go to Iver to tell my mother of our engagement. She will be deeply offended if I inform her by letter and not in person."

"Of course, but not today."

"Also, there is a very old betrothal ring in the family - an heirloom -which I must fetch for you."

"But not today?"

"Not today, my darling. I obey your every whim."

"That is no whim," said Selena firmly. "It is past noon and much too late to leave."

Iverbrook laughed. "Always practical!" he said lovingly.

Chapter 17.

On his return from Abingdon, Sir Aubrey retired to his chamber to nurse bruised spirit, bruised ribs, and an incipient cold. For the last two Lady Whitton provided remedies; for the first she had no sympathy. The baronet had endangered her daughter, and only her innate kindness led her to allow him to stay.

The story of his plight lost nothing in the telling. Bannister went about his duties with a grin on his usually impa.s.sive face, and even Cook was seen to crack a smile. Delia returned from Bracketts in time to hear the gentlemen's version over luncheon, and was much inclined to take umbrage at her exclusion from the spectacle.

In the afternoon Selena and Hugh went walking along the river, leading Peter on Leo. Peter was blissful, and did not in the least mind being ignored for long periods. The rain had stopped and none of them noticed what a grey, chilly day it was.

They crossed Lord Alphonse Sebring's watermeadows, Selena busy with plans for drainage and mowing.

"I'll call them Addlepate's Acres," she said. "It will intrigue the country folk no end. They still argue over Farthing Field, which has been called that for generations. There's a record of it in a book of farm accounts three hundred years old."

"The Whittons have been here so long?"

"Since Richard II, and baronets since the Wars of the Roses, having cleverly chosen the winning side."

"Four hundred years, then. To think I once called you petty squires!"

"We have never claimed nor aimed at n.o.bility. But it is a respectable family history, is it not? Peter will have it all now. Perhaps I ought to have married Cousin Aubrey after all."

"Just to preserve the name at Milford Manor? G.o.d forbid! Besides, you can always require that Peter change his name from Carrick to Whitton in order to inherit."

"I don't want to change my name," said the child firmly. "I like being Peter. You said you won't marry Uncle Aubrey, Aunt Sena. He's a bad man. Finny says he maked Polly cry."

"Does he snap at her? I have noticed that he is not good with the servants, and I'm afraid they do his

bidding unwillingly. Is Mr. Hastings's valet still taking care of his clothes, Hugh?"

"As you say, unwillingly, though I think your cousin does not try to come the high and mighty with him.

Dimbury is not easily impressed, and Hasty is of the opinion that Sir Aubrey stands in some awe of him.

At least the hummingbird waistcoat has not been seen for some time has it?"

Iverbrook debated whether to reveal to Selena his meeting with the baronet and the maid in the village. It seemed unwise to do so in Peter's hearing, and by the time they returned to the Manor, he had forgotten the subject.

At dinner he asked Lady Whitton for a love-potion.

"Selena is as changeable as the moon," he explained, eyes twinkling at her blush, "as I have cause to know! She may forget me while I am gone."

"I wish I could provide you with one," said Lady Whitton regretfully. "There must be magic involved for I

have never read of a truly efficacious receipt. You need a real witch."

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder," pointed out Mr. Hastings.

"Out of sight, out of mind," Delia contradicted, "but you will not be gone for long."

"No. With luck just two days, at most three. I dare not leave her longer!"

"Do you think Lady Lavinia will wish to come and inspect me?" asked Selena uneasily. "I have only met

her once, when Gil and Phoebe were married."

"Mama has not left Iver for years, even to go to London."

"When Phoebe was betrothed, she and I went to stay at Iver Place for a few days," said Lady Whitton.

"I daresay you have forgotten, Hugh, but as head of the family and our host, you were present." He laughed. "Have you a potion to restore the memory, ma'am? I suppose Selena must go with me soon to do the pretty, but there is no hurry. We'll let Mama recover from the news first." * * * *