"Oh, Papa," Cecily squealed.
"I am so gratified that you went today to pay your respects," his wife added ecstatically. "I vow that you must have stolen a march on Squire Worthing, which is only as it should be, my second cousin Harriet being sister-in-law to an earl."
"No one in his right mind would argue that that connection gives us a position of undisputed superiority in the county, my love," her husband replied indulgently, "but Worthing was there before me, with Ferdie in tow."
"How provoking!" said Mrs. Rowe. "But do tell all, my dear Mr. Rowe. What manner of man is Mr. Mainwaring, and who are his guests? Will they feel it a condescension to associate with us? Or are they prepared to join in the social activities of the neighborhood? Oh, depend upon it, Lady Worthing will have them all to dine before we can make plans. She will be pushing that pasty little Lucy at him, mark my words, though the chit is only seventeen and much too young to be setting her cap at a gentleman from town. But then, Lady Worthing always did lack something of breeding. Father a cit, you know, Miss Rossiter."
"Am I to answer your questions now, my love?" Mr. Rowe asked meekly. "The gentleman of the house is tall, dark, and handsome, Cecily-definitely the answer to a maiden's dreams, I believe. He might be difficult to bring to the point, though, love," he added as Cecily clasped her hands to her bosom and gazed adoringly at him. "His manners are quite correct, but there is a certain stiffness about the man. He is not perfectly amiable, I would guess."
Cecily seemed quite unperturbed. If a man were tall, dark, handsome, wealthy, and single, what more could a girl ask for?
"It seems that there are two more gentlemen and two ladies at the house," her father continued, "though I met only a Mr. and Mrs. Prosser, a youngish and perfectly amiable couple. Mrs. Prosser's sister is also of the party, we were told, and another mysterious gentleman, whom I heard referred to only as 'his lordship.' There, my dear, have I not made you happy today? Your family has been put upon visiting terms with our new neighbor, I have discovered the answers to many of your questions, and I have left you with an intriguing mystery."
"'His lordship,'" Mrs. Rowe repeated. "We have a member of the aristocracy in our midst. Now I wonder if he is a handsome man."
"He is probably a hunchback with a squint and not a groat to his name," her husband suggested with a straight face.
Mrs. Rowe chose to ignore this witticism. "When may one decently invite them to dine?" she asked of no one in particular. "Next week for an informal dinner of, say, twenty people? Could we have dancing too? Or would cards only be more appropriate for a first visit?"
“I think none of those plans would be suitable, Dorothy," her husband said quite firmly, "until Mr. Mainwaring returns my call and shows that he wishes for our acquaintance."
"Oh, but, Papa," Cecily wailed, "we might wait forever.”
Precisely, my love," her father replied unsympathetically. "But, Miss Rossiter, I see a very promising future for you. 'His lordship' cannot be a prince or a duke, but it is very possible that he is an earl. He surely could not be so unromantic as to neglect to fall in love with a gentlewoman turned governess and raise her to the exalted rank of countess-now, could he?"
"He would not be so rag-mannered," Elizabeth agreed.
“I hall lose all my faith in romance, sir, if I do not have
him groveling at my feet within a sennight. Provided he is
also handsome and wealthy, of course."
"Depend upon it, my dear," Mrs. Rowe said soothingly. "If he is a member of the aristocracy, he will be handsome."
Mr. Rowe smiled with amused affection at his mate.
Chapter 2
It was Elizabeth Rossiter who saw the visitors arriving the following afternoon, all on horseback. One was a lady, she could see. Elizabeth had returned just half an hour before from a visit to the rectory. She had taken flowers from the garden to decorate the church while Cecily paid a call on Anne to divulge all the information she had learned at the dinner table the evening before. Now Elizabeth was sitting in the window seat of the drawing room, her embroidery in her lap. Mrs. Rowe and Cecily were looking through patterns, though the directions for the new dresses had been given to Miss Phillips days before.
"I should warn you, ma'am, that I believe we are about to have visitors," Elizabeth said calmly. She did not look through the window again for fear that the riders would look up and laugh at her curiosity.
Mrs. Rowe shrieked. "Mr. Mainwaring?" she asked. "And I would put on this old lace cap after luncheon when something told me that I should wear the new."
"Beth," Cecily cried, "is my gown creased? Have my ringlets lost their curl? That new bonnet will flatten my hair so."
"You look your usual pretty self," Elizabeth assured her. "And I am sorry now that I alarmed you both. The visitors must call upon Mr. Rowe first. It is just possible that they will not call upon you ladies at all today."
"Oh, yes," Mrs. Rowe agreed, "and it would be just like him to keep them all to himself in the library and never think of bringing them to the drawing room."
But five minutes later Mr. Rowe had ushered the three gentlemen and a lady into the drawing room and was performing the introductions. Mrs. Rowe and Cecily were on their feet. Everyone seemed to be moving and talking at once, as Mr. Mainwaring, Mr. and Mrs. Prosser, and the Marquess of Hetherington were introduced to the ladies of the house.
Only Elizabeth was still seated, frozen into the shadows of the window seat where she had shrunk when the visitors first entered the room. Her eyes were fixed on the marquess; for the moment no one else existed in the room. My God, but he had not changed! She saw a man onlv a little above average height, but graceful and athletic in build. His fair hair was as shiny and as thick as it had been then, his face just as open and full of vitality. It was not exactly a handsome face, but the dancing blue eyes and the perfect white teeth made the beholder unaware of the fact.
He was bowing now over Cecily's hand, gazing into her face with frank admiration. Robert. Elizabeth had frequently wondered what it would be like to see him again. Well, now she knew, some dispassionate part of her brain told her. Numb. Totally and completely numb. But not for long.
Mrs. Rowe turned with a magnanimous gesture to the employee that she insisted on treating like a lady. "I wish you to meet Cecily's lady companion, Miss Elizabeth Rossiter," she said, directing all eyes to the window seat.
But Elizabeth was aware only of the slightly jerky movement made by Hetherington as he heard the name and turned in her direction. For a timeless, frozen moment their eyes met. Blank disbelief, sudden recognition, and shock flashed across his face all within seconds. It was unlikely that anyone except Elizabeth even noticed.
Then, his expression wiped clean of all expression except polite reserve, he inclined his head with a muttered "ma'am," while the others were presumably doing the same, and Elizabeth, snapping back to reality, rose to her feet and curtsied.
He seated himself with his back to her and engaged Cecily in conversation while Mr. Mainwaring and Mrs. Prosser talked to Mrs. Rowe. Mr. Prosser, a man in his early forties, Elizabeth estimated, balding and slightly paunchy, strolled over and conversed with her for a few minutes, though she could not recall afterward what had been the topic. After twenty minutes, the company departed with promises of future visits and invitations.
Another half-hour passed before Elizabeth could escape from the raptures of her employer and her charge. Mrs. Rowe was vastly impressed with the good looks and the presence of the owner of Ferndale. Cecily seemed more pleased with the rank and the charm of the marquess. But on one thing they were agreed: Cecily would surely be able to engage the interests of one of the two men, or possibly of both. Had not the marquess had eyes for no one else? Had not Mr. Mainwaring positively glowered when his friend sat next to Cecily before he had a chance to do so himself?