Page 45 of Crash Landing
“That is because you have more than frivolities on your mind. Clothes may be important when making a first impression, but they will not mask a meanness of spirit. It is what one wears in one’s heart that matters.”
“Very well said, Mrs. Albright.” She liked this sensible woman who made the running of this house look easy, when Florence knew the task would have been too daunting for almost everyone else. The housekeeper was organized, efficient, and, perhaps most important, very good at anticipating whatever might be needed.
Mrs. Albright soon left, and it was not long before a young maid with a cheerful countenance popped in. “Good morning, Lady Florence. I’m Jenny.”
“Good morning, Jenny. Your arrival is timely. I’ve just donned my gown and now I need my mop of hair done up properly.”
“I’ll do you up proper, never you worry,” she said with a merry smile.
The pleasant girl grabbed Florence’s hairbrush and began to comb out her hair. Florence sat patiently, eager to see how the hairstyle would turn out, for the girl seemed to know what she was doing.
“Here, have a look in the mirror,” Jenny said, turning her around.
Florence loved the elegant yet simple way Jenny had braided, twisted, and pinned back her hair, leaving a few soft curls to frame her face. “It is perfect. Thank you.”
Jenny beamed. “My pleasure. His Grace won’t be able to take his eyes off you at all today.”
Florence laughed. “Oh, I think he’ll manage. He still has a lot of work to get through with his cousins. I expect they will settle in the study again to slog through all the reports.”
Jenny nodded. “Yes, it will have to be his study, since the library will need another day or two of sunlight to dry everything out before being usable again. It still has a musty smell. Not very pleasant.”
Unfortunately, this meant Florence could not settle herself in one of the cozy library chairs and curl up there with a good book.
“Miss Florence, which gown should I set out for you for this afternoon’s tea?”
In truth, Florence had not given it much thought. This was foolish of her, since she would need to dress elegantly to receive Lady Frampton. Unfortunately, she had brought only a few suitable gowns for such an occasion, since she had mostly planned to hike, climb trees, and sneak into Lord Frampton’s home.
“This lavender silk will be perfect,” Jenny suggested, drawing it out of her wardrobe. “But it is slightly wrinkled. Let me take it downstairs for you and freshen it up.”
Florence thanked her and then made her way down to breakfast, suddenly wishing she had donned a prettier morning gown than this serviceable forest-green muslin that would blend in perfectly with the local foliage and make Trajan think she was going to climb trees again.
She had no intention of wandering far from the house today. Whywould she risk another dangerous encounter when Lady Frampton was coming to her?
She was pleased to find only Trajan at the dining table when she arrived. He was nursing his coffee while he read the morning paper, but set it down with a smile and rose to greet her. “Good morning, Florence. Did you sleep well?”
Oh, he looked so handsome in his casual attire, buff breeches, a shirt of whitest lawn, and a waistcoat of meadow green, a shade darker than his eyes. He wore no cravat or jacket, since the day would be hot and he would be sequestered for hours in the study with his cousins.
She smiled back at him. “Yes, I slept quite comfortably. It looks to be a perfect day.”
He nodded. “There was a cool, dry breeze while I was out riding earlier. I didn’t think to ask if you wished to join me. Will you forgive me? I just assumed you would decline, since you never joined us on our morning rides during the Bromleigh house party.”
“Nothing to forgive. I’m not a very good rider,” she admitted. “I could never have kept up with you.”
“I wouldn’t require you to do so. I could have slowed down for you. It’s just a ride. I don’t need to tear across the countryside. I’d enjoy your company tomorrow, if you are of a mind to join me.”
She settled her in the chair beside his. “I would love to, but it will have to wait until my next visit. I haven’t brought along my riding attire.”
He cast her a wicked grin. “You could ride on my lap.”
She laughed. “Are you serious? That would certainly raise eyebrows.”
“Do you care?” His expression turned more sober. “I meant it when I said I was willing to marry you, Florence.”
Since the footmen usually assigned to attend them at breakfast had been on guard duty throughout the night, they were not around to pour coffee or tea. Florence delayed having to respond to his remarkby pretending her throat was as dry as the Sahara sands.
She rose hurriedly to pour a cup of tea for herself. As she stood by the buffet, she realized Trajan had purposely neglected to assign footmen to replace Edgar and Alvin on breakfast duty. And she, so eager to see him again this morning, had fallen right into his trap.
They were alone.
