about my sister?”
“He’s not stupid,” Nick answered with unexpected indignation. “It only takes an hour or two to discover Polly’s crazy about art. Mother, you don’t mind if I ride on the box, do you?”
“Oh dear, do you think it safe, Ned?”
Once Ned had reassured his mother as to the safety of riding with the groom, he found it difficult to punish Nick for his misbehaviour at school by forbidding it. While he was humming and hawing, Kolya returned with Polly, sketch book in hand.
“I did not realize you were waiting,” she apologized. “The clouds are so extraordinary I wanted to draw them before they blow away. They look like a ploughed field.”
Everyone immediately stared at the sky. The clouds did indeed look as if they had been raked into neat rows. Lit from below by the rising sun, they shone pearly gold. A momentary feeling of awe filled Ned, and he turned to thank Polly for drawing his attention to the sight.
Kolya was before him. “Prekrasno,” he murmured. “Beautiful. Is special gift of artist to see what others fail to notice. Thank you, Miss Howard.”
Polly smiled at him. Dash it, thought Ned, annoyed, the Russian said it better than he could have himself. He busied himself handing his mother and sister into thecarriage while Kolya took his place on the narrow perch behind intended for footmen.
Taking advantage of his distraction, Nick climbed up onto the box. As Ned followed Ella inside, to sit beside the maid with his back to the horses, he consoled himself with the thought that there was more room, and definitely more peace, without his brother.
No sooner did they leave the town behind them to roll along the open road than Nick’s voice floated back in an urgent plea to “spring ‘em.” Mrs. Howard looked alarmed, but as the duke’s groom paid her importunate son no heed, she soon settled down on the luxuriously padded seat. The carriage was so well sprung that she dozed for much of the way. Polly, meanwhile, gazed out of the open window, far too entranced by the new sights to care about the layer of road dust deposited upon her person.
When they stopped for luncheon in Horsham, Polly once again disappeared. This time she returned before anyone went to look for her.
“I found a bookseller,” she reported happily. “He has promised to display two pictures of the town or the surrounding countryside, and if they sell quickly he will take more.”
Mrs. Howard sighed heavily. Ned knew she had hoped that the removal from Tunbridge Wells would put an end to her daughter’s commercial ventures. He half sympathized, but Polly was so delighted it was impossible not to be pleased for her.
They reached Loxwood in the middle of the afternoon. A quarter mile beyond the gates of Loxwood Manor, theyturned from the narrow lane into one even narrower, on the outskirts of the village. The house the duke had provided for his bailiff stood on the corner. The carriage pulled up on the strip of gravel separating the whitewashed, tile-roofed building from the lane.
Ned stepped out and handed down his mother and sister. “Welcome home,” he said.
“This is it?” whooped Nick, scrambling down from the box.
Polly squeezed Ned’s hand. “I know we are going to be very happy here. I cannot wait to unpack my paints.”
The front door swung open and his elderly cook-housekeeper appeared, neat and respectable in her black dress and white apron. She was accompanied by a mouth-watering smell of baking.
“Mother, this is Mrs. Coates. She will do all the cooking and marketing so you shall be a lady of leisure and drink tea with the vicar’s wife.”
Hung with oddments of baggage, Ella emerged from the carriage and regarded her fellow servant with a glowering face. “Since you won’t be needing me no more, madam, I’ll just turn meself around and go right back to Tunbridge Wells.”
“Oh dear,” said Mrs. Howard. “Indeed I cannot manage without you, Ella.”
Ned hurried to
“He’s not stupid,” Nick answered with unexpected indignation. “It only takes an hour or two to discover Polly’s crazy about art. Mother, you don’t mind if I ride on the box, do you?”
“Oh dear, do you think it safe, Ned?”
Once Ned had reassured his mother as to the safety of riding with the groom, he found it difficult to punish Nick for his misbehaviour at school by forbidding it. While he was humming and hawing, Kolya returned with Polly, sketch book in hand.
“I did not realize you were waiting,” she apologized. “The clouds are so extraordinary I wanted to draw them before they blow away. They look like a ploughed field.”
Everyone immediately stared at the sky. The clouds did indeed look as if they had been raked into neat rows. Lit from below by the rising sun, they shone pearly gold. A momentary feeling of awe filled Ned, and he turned to thank Polly for drawing his attention to the sight.
Kolya was before him. “Prekrasno,” he murmured. “Beautiful. Is special gift of artist to see what others fail to notice. Thank you, Miss Howard.”
Polly smiled at him. Dash it, thought Ned, annoyed, the Russian said it better than he could have himself. He busied himself handing his mother and sister into thecarriage while Kolya took his place on the narrow perch behind intended for footmen.
Taking advantage of his distraction, Nick climbed up onto the box. As Ned followed Ella inside, to sit beside the maid with his back to the horses, he consoled himself with the thought that there was more room, and definitely more peace, without his brother.
No sooner did they leave the town behind them to roll along the open road than Nick’s voice floated back in an urgent plea to “spring ‘em.” Mrs. Howard looked alarmed, but as the duke’s groom paid her importunate son no heed, she soon settled down on the luxuriously padded seat. The carriage was so well sprung that she dozed for much of the way. Polly, meanwhile, gazed out of the open window, far too entranced by the new sights to care about the layer of road dust deposited upon her person.
When they stopped for luncheon in Horsham, Polly once again disappeared. This time she returned before anyone went to look for her.
“I found a bookseller,” she reported happily. “He has promised to display two pictures of the town or the surrounding countryside, and if they sell quickly he will take more.”
Mrs. Howard sighed heavily. Ned knew she had hoped that the removal from Tunbridge Wells would put an end to her daughter’s commercial ventures. He half sympathized, but Polly was so delighted it was impossible not to be pleased for her.
They reached Loxwood in the middle of the afternoon. A quarter mile beyond the gates of Loxwood Manor, theyturned from the narrow lane into one even narrower, on the outskirts of the village. The house the duke had provided for his bailiff stood on the corner. The carriage pulled up on the strip of gravel separating the whitewashed, tile-roofed building from the lane.
Ned stepped out and handed down his mother and sister. “Welcome home,” he said.
“This is it?” whooped Nick, scrambling down from the box.
Polly squeezed Ned’s hand. “I know we are going to be very happy here. I cannot wait to unpack my paints.”
The front door swung open and his elderly cook-housekeeper appeared, neat and respectable in her black dress and white apron. She was accompanied by a mouth-watering smell of baking.
“Mother, this is Mrs. Coates. She will do all the cooking and marketing so you shall be a lady of leisure and drink tea with the vicar’s wife.”
Hung with oddments of baggage, Ella emerged from the carriage and regarded her fellow servant with a glowering face. “Since you won’t be needing me no more, madam, I’ll just turn meself around and go right back to Tunbridge Wells.”
“Oh dear,” said Mrs. Howard. “Indeed I cannot manage without you, Ella.”
Ned hurried to
Similar Books
Revenge
David Pilling
1st (Love For Sale)
Michelle Hughes
In the Eye of a Storm
Mary Mageau
Shelter
Jung Yun
Brush Back
Sara Paretsky
Nam Sense
Jr. Arthur Wiknik
Her Officer and Gentleman
Karen Hawkins
A Tyranny of Petticoats
Jessica Spotswood
Shield's Lady
Jayne Ann Krentz