Lord Loxley's Lover by Katherine Marlowe Read Free Book Online Page B

Mathilda Loxley watched them from the far end of the room with rising disapproval, and Lord Loxley found himself very surprisingly enjoying the company of the Misses Meriwether on that account.
    Miss Lucy quickly tired of the game of mimicking Mr. Rochester’s unmoving posture, and she came over to the couch to pester the potential couple. “Sarah, you ought to come see the gardens. They’re quite the go.”
    “Perhaps we ought,” Lord Loxley agreed, thinking that it might give them an excuse to escape from Lady Mathilda Loxley’s close scrutiny. He got to his feet and crossed the room to his great-aunt. “Aunt Mathilda, I thought I might take the Misses Meriwether out for a stroll in the gardens before dinner.”
    “Very well,” Lady Mathilda Loxley agreed, though she did glance disapprovingly toward Mr. Rochester.
    The four of them escaped as swiftly as they could while maintaining a polite dignity, out onto the grounds. The weather was variable, a motley of blue and clouds, some of which spat idle droplets of rain. Lord Loxley walked with Mr. Rochester and Miss Sarah Meriwether on either side, with Miss Lucy inclined to wander on ahead of them. Lady Mathilda Loxley’s gardens were very pristinely kept, with broad lawns and neatly manicured paths.
    “There aren’t any faeries here,” Miss Lucy complained, as she inspected the flowers. “It must all be too strict and disapproving for them.”
    “Lucy, hush,” Miss Sarah Meriwether scolded.
    “I don’t suppose I’d live here, if I were a faery,” Lord Loxley said. “No matter how nice the gardens are.”
    Miss Lucy smiled at him for that and scampered ahead of them again.
    “I’m sorry,” Miss Sarah Meriwether said. “She’s rather old for faeries, but she remains quite devoted to the idea.”
    Lord Loxley didn’t know what to say to that, being not at all bothered by Miss Lucy’s whimsy, and he looked hopefully to Mr. Rochester, who would likely know the polite response to Miss Sarah’s comment, but Mr. Rochester was refusing to look at either of them. As their walk progressed, Mr. Rochester remained surprisingly cordial and long-suffering toward Miss Lucy’s antics, but quite cold and reserved toward the polite Miss Sarah. Neither Lord Loxley nor Miss Sarah were particularly gifted at making small talk when the conversation lagged, and Lord Loxley did not much think that Miss Sarah wanted to marry him any more than he wished to marry her.
    It was almost a relief when a footman ran up to bid them all in for dinner, even though that meant returning to the company of Lady Mathilda Loxley, but dinner turned out to be much of the same. Miss Sarah attempted to carry the conversation on the merits of the latest styles and news from London, of which Lady Mathilda Loxley was almost unanimously disapproving, and at length Miss Sarah abandoned the attempt entirely, leaving the dinner party as a social ruin with no sound but the clink of silver on plates and the sonorous ticking of Lady Mathilda Loxley’s clock.
    Finally freed from the misery of dinner, the party dispersed, and Lord Loxley returned to his carriage. As soon as the door shut, he groaned and slumped down in his seat, dispensing with the strict posture that he had kept throughout the visit. “Well, that was miserable.”
    Mr. Rochester sat across from him, silently staring out the window, as if Lord Loxley was so dull as to be beneath his notice.
    Sitting slantwise in the carriage, Lord Loxley huffed indignantly about being ignored, and resumed his consideration as to how he might go about rekindling Mr. Rochester’s tendency to very inappropriately steal kisses.
    “Miss Sarah was quite lovely, however,” Lord Loxley said, watching Mr. Rochester very closely so that he didn’t miss the slight irritated narrowing of Mr. Rochester’s eyes at that statement. “Both gentle and beautiful,” he added, and saw Mr. Rochester’s shoulder twitch. The evident—though tightly