The Wicked Guardian Read Online Free PDF Page B

Clare. She, like her late father, was well-versed in the ramifications of every family of consequence in the kingdom. She knew to the fourth cousin all of Benedict’s family, meaning, of course, the Choates. But she became conscious now of a lack in her information. The Penrycks had nearly dropped out of sight Nothing derogatory was known of them—in fact, little at all was known of them. Benedict’s mother faded gently from the scene, after presenting her lord with the heir, and the lord’s subsequent remarriage, to a Fenly from Derby, and the regular succession of additions to the nursery had obscured the Penryck connection.
    Marianna intended that the connection remain unnoticed. Looking sidelong at Benedict she thought better of broaching the subject to him. He had taught her, politely but with decision, that opposition could in no way alter his mind. She resolved, not for the first time, to tread warily until after their wedding. He would not cry off now, she knew, but still ... forty thousand pounds a year was not a sum to take the least chance on.
    She could not help but say, however, “Such a charming child,” in an interrogatory tone of voice.
    There was a frown between Lord Benedict’s black brows. Absently he reached a finger up to smooth his left eyebrow. Suddenly he laughed. “Imagine! Being recognized in London only because I resemble a portrait in Dorset! And not even I, in fact, but my eyebrows!” he said, genuinely amused.
    “I believe they are considered very distinguished,” said Marianna, adding, “although of course, it is not the thing to discuss such a personal matter.”
    “But, knowing my friends, I am assured that it is done. But rarely, I will admit, with such frankness.”
    “I wonder,” ventured Marianna, “how she will take.”
    “At the rate she has started,” said Benedict, “I dread the thought of further association with that child.”
    “I feared,” said Marianna, “that she was going to make a claim upon you.” She added archly, “And if so, I should be very jealous.”
    “Jealous of a child, Marianna? I confess I thought better of you than that.”
    “I trust your honor, Benedict.”
    With that not-quite-subtle reminder, Marianna tugged gently at the silken rein by which she led Benedict Choate in the ways she wished him to go.
    Dutifully Benedict bowed. “Your servant, my dear, as always,” he said automatically. “But not, I fear,” he added in quite a different tone of voice, “as far as your plumassier’ s. I see Lady Courtenay approaching, and I have remembered that I must meet friends at White’s.”
    “At eleven in the morning?” protested Marianna.
    “Pray give Lady Courtenay my best duty,” he said, ignoring her protests, and, tipping his top hat with grace to her, and a bow to the fast-approaching Lady Courtenay, who, he had time to notice, had her plain, eager daughter with her, Benedict vanished with all possible speed in the direction of St. James’s Street.

4 .
    If Clare believed Lady Thane’s comfortable assurance that the recent interview with Miss Morton and Lord Choate had already been forgotten, she could agree at least so far as those two were concerned.
    But as for herself, she found that as they drove away from Leadenhall Street the eyebrows engrossed her to the exclusion of all else.
    It was unsettling to see the portrait come down from the wall of the long gallery and walk about the streets of London. And while she must be perfectly honest, knowing that the portrait of Lord Benedict Choate himself did not hang on the gallery walls, yet the family resemblance to their mutual great-grandfather was more than striking.
    She was finally able to put Lord Choate out of her mind, when Sir Alexander Ferguson and his aunt, Lady Warfield, made up a party to see the Tower of London. Sir Alexander was knowledgeable about the ghosts and the executions and the famous and ill-fated prisoners, but his prosy gloom vanished from her mind when she