The Hermit's Daughter by Joan Smith Read Free Book Online

in a transparently pleading way, “I came in Monty’s carriage. We will all be as merry as grigs in Uncle’s rig together.”
    Sally saw her duty, and she did it. Monstuart didn’t comment on her decision, but she knew by his mocking look that he had engineered the matter of one carriage, done it for the sole purpose of ensuring her presence.
    “Where shall we go?”Melanie asked.
    Sally thought the best place to go was some spot where they might descend from the carriage to walk, thus giving the young lovers some privacy. With this end in view, she suggested a short drive into the country, followed by a walk through town. “I promised Mama I would pick up some muslin for her this morning,”she invented, to give such a dull trip some reason.
    She feared her mother was about to reveal her lie, but she did her an injustice. Mrs. Hermitage had read Sally’s scheme and was busy to add to it. “And the fish for dinner, Sal,”she threw in. The longer Sally could detach Monstuart, the better. “And a leg of mutton from the butcher.”
    “Mama, the servants can do that!”Sally objected. They were never accustomed to carrying their own groceries home. To sink so low before Lord Monstuart was surely not a good plan.
    “As you are going to the shops, dear, it will leave the servants free to polish the silver. The silver wants polishing,”Mama insisted. Every candlestick and teapot in the house gleamed like new, but Sally had no intention of playing the undutiful daughter in front of her waiting escort, so she accepted it and even took some satisfaction from the thought of Monstuart’s carriage being cluttered with a smelly parcel of fish and a leg of mutton.
    Mrs. Hermitage went on to give instructions as to the quantity of turbot required and the degree of marbling necessary to turn the mutton tender. The quantities mentioned told Sally that there was to be more than the family for dinner, but as she had no wish for Monstuart to be one of the projected party, she said not a word about it.
    Monstuart’s waiting carriage was a handsome black one with a lozenge on the door. Other than the noble emblem, the carriage was no more handsome than the Hermitage’s own and elicited no compliments. The trip three miles into the spring countryside passed without any strong unpleasantness. Miss Hermitage occasionally pointed out a particularly fine stand of cedars or patch of wild flowers, but the younger company was not much interested in anything beyond the velvet lined carriage, and Monstuart’s concern with nature seemed hardly greater.
    “Very nice,”or “charming,”he might say, with always that bored look that proclaimed his mood more loudly than words. At length Sally had had enough of trying to introduce some conversation into the trip and said bluntly, “It is clear you take no pleasure in rural beauties, milord. I wonder you are not in London, with the Season just beginning.”
    “You forget I have been at Beauwood, ma’am. There are some rural beauties there well worth a look. I received my nephew’s message while there and am, in fact, on my way to London.”
    Sally had a pretty good idea what rural beauty at Beauwood was considered worth a look by this urban creature. “Does Lady Dennison go to London as well?”she asked.
    “I trust it is her intention.”
    There was no egging him on to either revelation, dismay, or argument, so like the rest of the group, Sally lapsed into silence till they returned to Ashford. The carriage was sent on, to return in an hour.
    Derwent took Melanie’s arm and hastened to get beyond earshot of his guardian. Monstuart turned to his companion and asked, with a black brow raised at a querying angle, “Was it worth the trip, to let them have this chance to be alone?”
    “Yes, it was worth even that. Whether it is worth having to carry a fish ...”She stopped short, for this was a confession she had not intended making.
    “There is the fishmonger’s,”he pointed out, and,