Page 35 of War of the Wedding Wagers
“My dear Miss Caroline, nothing would give me greater pleasure.”
The way the girl preened under his attention reminded Eugenia painfully of herself at that age, desperate to be seen as interesting rather than merely decorative. Though in her case, the gentleman in question had been considerably more worthy.Her gaze drifted to the window where she could just see Lord Thornton crossing the lawn with Sir Frederick.
Speaking of worthy gentlemen… she was certain this scene could be turned to some advantage. Sir Frederick’s protective instincts towards his sister, combined with Miss Fairchild’s clear-sighted intelligence, were sure to create just the sort of shared purpose that could draw them closer together.
And if that happened to help Eugenia win her wager with Lord Thornton…well, that would simply be an added pleasure.
But Mr. Greene’s peculiar interest in Pernilla’s story struck her as worthy of note. Though exactly why, she couldn’t yet say.
Rising silently from her chair, Eugenia slipped out through the library’s side door, leaving Caroline still hanging on Mr. Greene’s every word as he expounded on his deep appreciation for family traditions. The girl would learn soon enough that not every smooth-tongued gentleman’s interests were what they seemed.
Though perhaps, Eugenia mused as she made her way toward the drawing room, that was a lesson better learned through observation than experience. And if the observation happened to involve Caroline’s brother and a certain clear-sighted young lady working together to protect Caroline’s interests…well, that would be quite ideal.
Chapter Eighteen
Adecent night’ssleep would have had Sir Frederick riding at dawn but at least he managed to catch sufficient to appear for breakfast at what he considered a respectable hour.
Not that there were many in the dining room when he seated himself for morning chocolate and the smoked haddock and eggs that were on offer. In fact, it appeared most of the ladies had chosen to while away the morning on whatever it was ladies did in the morning.
If his sister was anything to go by, there was a great deal of time spent on dressing and checking one’s appearance, perhaps writing a letter or two, and then more time at the dressing table. Caroline had always been a good girl but since Mr. Greene had been on the scene, she’d been impossible. And he knew that Mr. Greene was the cause of her altered disposition. His ridiculous compliments and excessive attention had quite gone to her head.
Fortunately, Miss Fairchild’s very judicious words had poured water on the flames. Perhaps Caroline would rally sufficiently in the next day or two so that she’d countenance some of the other charming and much more suitable potential suitors.
Hopefully, Mr. Greene had not decided upon a different tack to win whatever it was he was after.
“Are you amongst those piqued to learn that Lady Pendleton’s little ghost game was just that: a game?”
Sir Frederick glanced up to see that Lord Thornton had just addressed him from the other side of the dining table.
“Miss Fairchild is determined that it isn’t.” Sir Frederick was aware that he was smiling. Strange, for he wasn’t usually inclined to talk in the mornings but the thoughts of Miss Fairchild that had come immediately to mind seemed to have lightened his spirits.
“Indeed, you were in the sleuthing trio together with Miss Playford.”
“That’s right.” Sir Frederick was surprised that Lord Thornton had paid sufficient attention to remember the details, for he’d been roaming the castle that evening, assisting their hostess in her little game. “Miss Fairchild proved herself quite adept at recognizing each clue.”
“And Miss Playford?”
“Oh, she was much quicker than I’d have given her credit, though it was Miss Fairchild’s deep mind that brought us the results and the final prize.”
“Indeed.”
“She’s quite the bluestocking, isn’t she?”
“A bluestocking?” Sir Frederick considered the matter. She was obviously intelligent and enjoyed reading. Indeed, he’d once attached to her that moniker. But did that really make her a bluestocking which, really, was not a particularly flattering term for a lady? He shrugged. “Miss Fairchild is a young lady of surprising depth who enjoys discussing a range of affairs.”
He felt it only right to champion her in view of Lord Thornton’s perceived slight.
Lord Thornton nodded as he attacked his food. “Yes, and not too hard on the eye, though she’s no longer in the first flush of youth. Miss Playford and her entourage are a lively lot. Perhaps one of those young ladies would suit, once you’re morethoroughly acquainted. I can’t imagine Miss Fairchild is in the running. She’s not exactly the type you usually favor.”
Sir Frederick paused, teacup in midair, and stared. What was Thornton on about? He glanced about him, but they were, right now, the only ones in the room. The little he knew about his companion did not seem to accord to the way he was speaking to Sir Frederick now. Besides, what would he know about the type of young lady Sir Frederick favored? So he said stiffly as he returned his attention to his breakfast, “I have not narrowed my pursuit of potential wife to any particular type of young lady and Miss Fairchild is as suitable as any other.”
“Yes, but I wonder if she’d be content with the life of a baronet’s wife, given her scholarly pursuits.”
Good lord! Sir Frederick didn’t say those words, but he drew himself up and said, “It’s quite a stretch from admiring a lady’s mind to making her an offer of marriage. Not something I’m planning on doing in the near future, at any rate.” Nevertheless, he added, for he also did not wish to make it sound like he was too quick to dismiss Miss Fairchild, “She is, however, a surprising young lady whom I’d not thought I would admire so greatly.”
There. He’d said it. He’d championed fair Miss Fairchild when Lord Thornton looked as if he were denigrating ladies with intellectual leanings.
With intellectual leanings?
