Page 42 of Lady Audacious
‘And yet you choose to use that precious time in pleasing me,’ she said softly, acutely aware of his virile masculine power as he effortlessly controlled his lively team. More aware still of his close proximity on the narrow seat and the frequent occasions upon which his thigh collided with hers as he steered his horses.
She swallowed repeatedly, suddenly shy as the carriage bowled down the main village street at a stately trot. Everyone they passed stopped to stare, raising hats in deferential greeting to the earl and looking with astonishment at Odile seated beside him.
‘Did you actually need to come through the village?’ she asked. ‘Are you attempting to make some sort of obscure point by parading me in front of all these people?’
‘I am attempting to keep you safe, you ungrateful wretch,’ he replied, but he smiled as he issued the reprimand.
‘Safe by making me seem dependent upon you, which rather spoils my efforts to remain independent. But still, who am I to gainsay an earl? I know my place and simply would not dare.’
He chuckled. ‘I think there is little you would not dare to do.’
‘I shall have to take your word for that.’ She turned her face up towards the sun which was already making its presence felt on what promised to be another fine day. ‘This time last week, I was a lowly teacher with no will of her own. All this independence is positively liberating, if a little bewildering.’
‘You were born independent.’
Odile had been enjoying the lively exchange enormously, but his casual reference to her birth reminded her of their purpose and her smile abruptly faded. Until she knew where she had been born, to whom, and the circumstances surrounding her sudden transformation into an audacious lady of means, she would know no peace of mind.
He removed one hand from the reins and briefly covered both of hers with it, as though sensing her sudden unease. ‘It will be all right,’ he assured her.
‘Will it? I have spent more hours than is healthy speculating about my background, inventing ever more fanciful scenarios which are likely to be shot down in flames if we get at the truth. Perhaps ignorance is bliss. Perhaps I should accept my inheritance, stop asking questions and enjoy my windfall. I might even have been tempted to do so, but for the fact I shall not rest easy until…well, until I know.’
‘Your speculations helped you to survive your school days, I imagine, and you cannot resist finding out how close to the mark those speculations actually were. I know that in your situation, I would feel the exact same way.’
‘Yes.’ She paused, watching the competent manner in which the earl steered his team past a laden donkey train being herded along by an unruly individual with a half-starved dog. ‘I lived within my imagination, odd though it might sound, but it was safer that way. No one could reach me there and disappoint me.’
‘I was sent off to boarding school as a bewildered seven-year-old and thrown into an entirely alien environment. Not the same situation as yours, I’ll grant you, but terrifying all the same. It helped to have a private place inside my head into which I could retreat when necessary in order to survive the unruly jockeying for position.’
‘You were born into privilege but had to learn how to be a leader, or if you were even destined to be one. I saw it at Miss Mackenzie’s, which I’m sure is hardly the same as the elite establishments you attended, but similar rules apply. Throw a group of young people together and natural leaders and followers will emerge.’
‘Precisely. And woe betide a lad who shows a disinclination to fight his way to the top. Fathers with rigid opinions upon how their sons ought to behave harbour expectations. If the sons do not live up to those expectations then they are beaten into submission. Take it from one who knows.’
‘I’m sorry. Physical chastisement achieves little, in my opinion. You discovered in your own time, I expect, that with your position of privilege comes responsibility and restrictions.’
He removed his gaze from the road and briefly transferred it to her. ‘Very insightful,’ he said.
Their conversation continued until they reached the outskirts of Chichester. The streets were busy, but it was nothing compared to the bustle of London, to which Odile was more accustomed. She enjoyed taking in sights and smells that were different to the capital, yet somehow oddly familiar. She remained silent, not distracting the earl with idle chatter as he concentrated on negotiating his team through the crowded streets. He came to a halt at a mews, where a groom rushed forward to take the carriage. The earl flipped a coin to him, then got down and helped Odile to alight.
‘The town hall is just along here,’ he said, taking her hand and placing it firmly in the crook of his arm. The familiarity of the gesture caused the breath to leave her body in an extravagant whoosh. It was almost as though he thought she might take flight, or that they would become separated by the crowds. Almost as though he was laying some sort of claim to her and wasn’t afraid for the world to know it.
Almost.
‘Let’s hope that our search will bear fruit,’ he said, sounding utterly convinced that it would. She found it hard to imagine a man of his fortitude ever being anything other than completely sure of himself, despite his earlier comments about his school days.
They entered the building, where he brushed past two separate clerks who stepped forward to ask his business, and past a long queue of people waiting to make complaints or pay fines. Such was his assured demeanour that no one stopped the earl as he led Odile down a narrow corridor where ordinary members of the public were forbidden to trespass. A clerk jumped from a stool, waving his arms ineffectually when they reached an office at the end of it. The earl thrust the office door open without bothering to knock.
A middle-aged man looked up, threw a quill aside and jumped up from behind a monolith of a desk, an angry frown creasing his brow.
‘What the devil is the meaning of…Oh, my lord.’ The frown gave way to an obsequious smile. ‘Good morning. How may I be of service?’
‘Good morning to you, Marshall. This is Miss Aspen, who has come into possession of a property in Amberley.’
The town clerk gave Odile an assessing look, clearly found little to admire about her person and appeared bemused by the earl’s interest in her affairs. ‘Good day to you, miss,’ he said shortly.
‘Now then, Marshall. We are here to do a little sleuthing. You are responsible for keeping the records for the last two censuses, I gather.’
‘We are, my lord, and most meticulous records they are too.’
‘How do they work?’ Odile asked.
