‘I can hear a carriage,’ Donna remarked, leaving a pile of linen unfolded as she hurried to peep discreetly from the bedroom casement. ‘I wonder who that can be? I do not recognise the barouche.’
Antonia joined her, attempting to make out the crest on the carriage doors. ‘I do believe it is Lady Finch. How very gracious of her to return our call so promptly.’
They had called at Rye End Hall two days previously to leave their cards and had been received by Lady Finch herself. Sir Josiah, she had explained, was not with her because he had been detained in London on business, but was expected daily and was looking forward to establishing himself in his new home.
Lady Finch had proved welcoming and open, delighted to make their acquaintance and full of praise for Rye End Hall and their preparations. She was obviously very well bred, but years abroad had lent a refreshing informality to her manner.
Antonia had noticed the ready affection that Lady Finch evinced for her nephew: a pastel sketch of him was one of the few pictures that had already been hung. ‘I do hope dear Jeremy has been able to accommodate all your wishes in the arrangements,’ Lady Finch said. ‘He is generally such a thoughtful individual, but you must tell me immediately if anything has been overlooked.’ The warmth and pride that tinged her voice when she spoke of Mr Blake indicated that she regarded him more as a son than a nephew, Antonia had thought.
‘Lady Finch,’ Jane announced now, showing the older woman into the drawing-room.
There was a flurry of greetings and bows before the three were seated, tea poured and macaroon biscuits offered. ‘What a charming old house,’ Lady Finch enthused. ‘After so many years in the Indies, it is such a pleasure to see a fine example of the antique English style. Are you comfortable here? It has a welcoming and homely atmosphere.’
She was so easy to talk to that the half-hour visit flew by. At length, their guest stood up and drew on her gloves, looking out over the garden as she did so.
‘What magnificent roses, Miss Dane. I hope you will allow Sir Josiah to visit your garden. He has lately developed a keen interest in horticulture now we are home again. It is such a struggle to maintain a truly English style in a hot climate: there must be constant irrigation and all one’s favourites just wither and die. I confess that, after a few false starts, we simply gave up.’
‘I would be delighted, for gardening is also one of my joys,’ Antonia began when they were interrupted by the sound of carriage wheels on gravel.
‘I must bid you farewell, for you have other visitors,’ Lady Finch was saying when the newcomers came into view, trotting up the drive in a smart curricle. ‘Why, it is my husband and Jeremy. What a surprise!’
The two men were ushered in by Jane, flushed with importance at receiving so many guests in one morning.
‘Sir Josiah, I had not looked for you until tomorrow.’ Lady Finch held out her hands to her husband and Antonia was touched by the unfashionable warmth with which he kissed his wife.
‘Miss Dane, I must make my husband known to you.’ Antonia curtsied, liking Sir Josiah on sight. Where his wife was thin, her complexion made sallow by years of heat, he was rotund and still tanned on the top of his bald head. His eyes were shrewd, his open face intelligent and cheerful and Antonia felt instinctively that she was meeting an honest man.
The enlarged party settled again, Sir Josiah accepting a dish of Bohea while he explained that his London business had been accomplished with more expedition than he had expected. He had hurried down, eager to view his new demesne, to be greeted by Jeremy Blake with the news that his wife was visiting Miss Dane.
‘Naturally, I could not hesitate to make your acquaintance, ladies. My nephew has told me of your gracious assistance in rendering the Hall all that we would wish it to be.’
His wife rose, catching his attention. ‘My dear, we must not impose on Miss Dane and Miss Donaldson’s time further this morning. However, I have secured a promise from Miss Dane that she will show you her roses before much longer.’
‘Capital! A follow gardener – I could not have wished for better in a neighbour. Lady Finch, tell me, what is the state of our kitchens? When can we hope to entertain? I would wish to hold a dinner party for our good neighbours as soon as may be.’
‘Thanks to the perfect order in which all was left, I believe we could name this Saturday. That is, if you are free, ladies?’
Donna coloured with pleasure at the compliment to her housekeeping as they accepted the invitation. The Finches departed, Sir Josiah begging the honour of sending his carriage over to collect the Dower House party on the appointed evening.
Donna was obviously burning to discuss their visitors but Jeremy Blake, remaining when his aunt and uncle had gone, forced her to silence.
‘I wished to ask if the groom the estate manager sent down met with your approval,’ he enquired. ‘If so, I will arrange to have my carriage horse sent over immediately with the gig.’
‘Yes, thank you. Fletcher appears a most respectable and willing man,’ Antonia said. ‘He has righted a stall in the old barn, so we can house both horse and carriage suitably.’
‘Then would you wish me to drive the gig over tomorrow?’ he asked. He smiled and she found he had caught her gaze and that she was smiling back. ‘And perhaps it would be wise, with a horse that is unfamiliar to you, if I were to accompany you on your first drive.’
‘But, Antonia, dear,’ Donna intervened, ‘Have you not told Mr Blake that you never learned to drive?’
Antonia knew all too well that Donna, having consigned the Duke to the ranks of Unsuitable Suitors, was already looking to Jeremy Blake to replace him. She could only hope he did not spot the unsubtle matchmaking.
‘But you must allow me to teach you,’ he offered immediately. ‘It would be my pleasure and I’m sure you will prove an apt pupil.’ Antonia accepted, smiling but uncomfortable. She liked Mr Blake – he was congenial and pleasant and good company – and she wanted to learn to drive, but Donna’s unsubtle encouragement was unwelcome. She could have asked their new groom to instruct her without raising any expectations.
The parting from Marcus was still bitter. She loved the man, still dreamt of him at night, still longed to see his eyes smiling into hers with that unspoken promise. Donna could switch allegiance for her at the turn of a card, not knowing how strongly her affections were engaged, but her own heart was not so fickle, nor did she wish to give Jeremy Blake false encouragement and perhaps to hurt him.
Mr Blake was as good as his word and a groom delivered a note the next morning proposing a drive later that day. With it came an invitation from Lady Finch to Donna to take tea.
‘She says here that, unless she hears to the contrary, she will send the carriage at three for me.’ Donna’s sallow cheeks were flushed with pleasure at the invitation. ‘How kind her ladyship is, to consider my entertainment while you are engaged.’
‘I am sure she is most considerate,’ Antonia agreed. ‘But I am certain she also wishes to become better acquainted with you. After all, you have much in common. Wasn’t your father stationed in several of the places in India she mentioned yesterday?’
‘Indeed, he was. What a pleasure it will be to hear her descriptions of those scenes. I wonder if she has any sketch books?’
Mr Blake arrived at the appointed time, but Donna was not downstairs to admire the gig and the bay gelding he was lending them. She was still in her chamber, dithering over the choice between her three decent day gowns, a most uncharacteristic way for her to carry on.
Antonia had not needed to dither. She was sensibly dressed for driving in a pale fawn muslin gown with jonquil braid about the hem and a compact bonnet shading her eyes. She pulled on a pair of tan gloves and called up the stairs, ‘l am leaving now, Donna. I will see you later, please give Lady Finch my regards.’
‘Where would you like to go, Miss Dane?’ Jeremy enquired as he handed her up into the little carriage and gathered up the reins. ‘It is a very warm day, and the flies are so bad in the park, I wondered if you would care to drive out onto the Downs. There will be a breeze and a fine view and I found a trackway the other day where you can take the reins without fear of other traffic.’
‘That would be delightful,’ Antonia agreed. ‘I think I know where you mean, and I had intended to go there myself one day, but the weather has turned far too hot for such a long walk.’
‘You would not consider such a distance on foot, surely?’ Jeremy’s eyebrows shot up as he turned left into the lane. ‘It is all of three miles in each direction. You are a most energetic walker, Miss Dane, if you considered such an expedition.’
‘Why so surprised, Mr Blake? Did you think me a drawing room miss who would never deign to do more than stroll around a pleasure garden? I must confess to enjoying vigorous exercise. Why, if I thought Donna would permit it, I would even dig the garden.’
‘I never thought you a conventional young lady, Miss Dane. Making your acquaintance over the past few weeks has convinced me that you are quite out of the ordinary. Ah, here is the start of the track. Would you care to take the reins now?’
‘Yes, please. I have been observing how you handle them and I believe I can manage, if he only walks to start with.’
Jeremy pulled up and transferred the reins into Antonia’s hands. ‘It is not so very different to riding when you are driving only one horse, more complicated with a pair, of course. Yes, you have got it just right.’ There was a fleeting pressure of reassurance from his fingers through the leather of her gloves.
Antonia clicked her tongue and shook the reins and the gelding walked docilely forward, little puffs of chalky dust rising as his hooves struck the hard ground.
The hot air was full of the vanilla scent of gorse blossom. Overhead larks sang and spiralled out of sight in the cloudless blue sky and Chalk Blue and Fritillary butterflies danced away from the horse’s progress.
The track rose gradually as they climbed to the top of the Downs and Antonia’s spirits lifted with their progress and the intoxicating feeling of freedom. As they came out onto the short cropped grass and saw the view of the whole Vale stretched out before them, still and shimmering in the heat, she reined in instinctively.
‘That is very good,’ Jeremy encouraged. ‘You have a very light hand on his mouth – see how well he responds to you. I do believe you are ready to trot.’
‘Let’s just stay here a moment,’ Antonia said. ‘It is so lovely, so wide and open and the breeze is fresh. When I am here I do not miss London one jot.’
‘You must have many friends and acquaintances in Town who miss you,’ he said gallantly.
‘We had a wide circle of acquaintances when I lived with my great-aunt,’ Antonia agreed. ‘But it was quite remarkable how quickly they fell away when we had to move to less fashionable lodgings.’
She turned to look at him, suddenly ready to confide. ‘l will not attempt to hide the truth from someone who knows our circumstances as well as you. After the death of my father, we were in very straitened circumstances.’
There was a small silence as they both gazed across the tranquil vista beneath them, then Jeremy spoke carefully. ‘I will be equally frank and say I much admire the courageous way in which you have retrieved your fortunes.’ He seemed to catch his breath as thought to continue, but all he said was, ‘Now, shall we try trotting?’
The bay responded to Antonia’s tentative signals with a brisk trot, and Jeremy put a restraining hand on her wrist as the stride lengthened.
There was a fine stand of perhaps a dozen beeches ahead, casting a broad swathe of shade over the turf. ‘The track goes around that copse,’ he directed. ‘Try taking the bend at a steady trot. You are doing so well on the straight, it should give you no trouble.’
As they rounded the curve, they found themselves almost on top of a picnic party assembled under the shade. There was a welcoming cry of, ‘Miss Dane! Please stop and join us,’ and Antonia recognised Anne Meredith waving from a rug spread on the grass.
‘It is the house party from Brightshill.’ How very awkward. But she could hardly snub them and drive on. ‘Do you have any objection to our stopping a while, Mr Blake?’
‘Not at all, although you must introduce me, for I know only the Duke in the party.’
The picnickers had apparently arrived in several open carriages, which were drawn up some little distance away. As Antonia turned the bay’s head towards the group, a groom hurried down to take its head.
The picnic party had thrown all formality to the wind in the heat of the day. The gentlemen had taken off their coats and loosened their neck cloths and the ladies were reclining languidly against heaps of cushions on the ground. Only the children were unaffected and were playing hide and seek in the bushes, sunhats bouncing on the ends of their ribbons despite pleas from their mother to cover their heads.
Marcus, who had been lying stretched out at his sister’s feet, a book open in one hand, his chin propped on the other, dropped the volume and got to his feet.
Antonia swallowed hard and fought for composure as he strolled towards them. They had last met, and parted, in anger, but her feelings for him still burned as strong as ever. Marcus’s eyes were fixed on her face and she lowered her chin so that the brim of her hat shadowed her expression.
The glimpse of bare skin where his shirt fell open, the play of muscles as he walked, the sun glancing off that tawny head, all conspired to rob her of her breath, of her senses. She remembered that last puzzling kiss and yearned for the feel of his lips again.
This is madness. She had made her decision, rejected him. Where was her pride that she could long for him like this, knowing what his relationship was with Claudia Reed? Antonia made no effort to free herself from Jeremy’s light grasp on her elbow. Let Marcus think what he might.
Her chin came up and she faced him out. ‘Your Grace, Good afternoon. What a very pleasant spot for a picnic. You know Mr Blake, of course? He is teaching me to drive. Is that not kind of him?’
Antonia did not wait for a reply but sailed past Marcus, leading Jeremy to where Lady Anne was sitting up and straightening her hat. ‘Lady Anne, may I make Mr Blake known to you? Mr Blake is the nephew of Lady Finch, our new neighbour.’
‘Miss Dane, what a pleasure to see you again. Good afternoon, Mr Blake. Do please excuse our informality. Will you not sit down and have some lemonade? I will introduce you.’
Mr Leigh helpfully piled up some cushions for the newcomers while Miss Fitch poured lemonade and the rest of the party was introduced to Jeremy. Antonia saw his eyes widen as Claudia languidly raised herself from a nest of pillows, revealing an outrageously flattering gown and an equally outrageously large straw hat. Antonia immediately felt dowdy – and furious with herself for caring.
‘Mr Blake, how do you do?’ Claudia’s assessment of this male arrival was quite open.
He bowed formally, but to Antonia’s delight made no move to approach Lady Reed, seating himself beside Antonia and Lady Anne.
Marcus sat down again, not beside Antonia, but next to Jeremy, whom he began to engage in conversation. ‘Neat little bay, that, not too long in the back,’ he observed pleasantly.
‘A little long in the tooth now, Your Grace, but it is a nicely bred animal and ideal for a lady learning to drive.’ Jeremy was polite but guarded.
‘Ah, so it is yours, then? I wondered if Miss Dane had made a fortunate purchase.’
‘Yes, it is mine, but Miss Dane is kindly stabling it for me.’ Jeremy began to relate the tale of discovering the gig and engaging Fletcher the groom for the ladies and they fell to a general discussion of horseflesh, the other men rousing themselves to participate. Lord Meredith, Mr Leigh and Sir John all had tales of difficult beasts and astute purchases to exchange and the ladies were clearly quite forgotten.
Lady Anne leaned over and touched Antonia lightly on the arm. ‘Well, we have lost their attention for a while, it seems. Once men start talking of horses I declare it would take an earthquake – or their dinner – to divert them.’
Antonia glanced around. The men were oblivious, Miss Fitch had taken up Marcus’s book and was engrossed and Claudia Reed appeared to have fallen into a light doze against an abundance of cushions. Although how she managed to sleep with her mouth set in such a pretty pout was beyond her comprehension.
Her hostess followed the direction of her gaze. ‘It is remarkable how that woman manages to cast her lures at every man. she meets,’ Anne whispered.
‘And sometimes makes a catch,’ Antonia murmured in return.
Antonia wondered what had promoted the small smile that suddenly curved Lady Anne’s lips, but her thoughts were interrupted by the children tumbling onto the rug beside them, hot and thirsty.
Mr Blake, obviously unused to boisterous children, shied away and broke off from a discussion of Tattersall’s prices to suggest that it was time they returned to Rye End Hall.
Some devil made Antonia respond very promptly to Jeremy with immediate agreement and a sweet smile. She saw Marcus raise an eyebrow, but he did nothing more than get to his feet politely as they left.