Page 85 of Oddity of the Ton
“There’s more forms of betrayal than taking a mistress,” Monty replied.
“Such as tricking a young woman into a false engagement?”
“Miss Howard is perfectly aware—”
“On the surface, yes,” she interrupted. “But that young woman is unlike any other I’ve known. Most girls are like babbling brooks—all noise and chatter, making such a fuss about everything, yet when you look beneath the surface, there’s no depth at all. Miss Howard is like the lake at the base of a waterfall—surrounded by noise, itself quiet and accepting, with still, dark waters that appear characterless at first, but when you delve in, you discover a depth previously unheard of.”
Monty shook his head. “You talk in riddles, Mother. You’ve made your disapproval of her very clear, and now you speak in her defense.”
“I caught a glimpse of the depths beneath her surface,” she said. “Last night, she revealed something of her mind. This morning, she revealed something of her heart.”
“Her heart?”
She nodded. “At first I thought her an awkward little thing, trying—and failing—to engage in conversation. Until I touched on a subject about which she was passionate. Then her true nature came to the fore. I cannot recall the last time someone spoke to me as she did, in defense of something she cared about.”
“Which was?”
She shook her head. “It matters not. I believe she said more than she intended. It would be unfair to divulge what she said.”
Monty stared at his mother. He’d rarely heard her speak with such softness. Perhaps she possessed a heart after all—which had been crushed over the years by the burden of being a duchess.
And perhaps she was right. Even if he’d intended to marry Miss Howard, she could never shoulder that burden.
But a part of him wanted to prove his mother wrong about Miss Howard—as he himself had been proven wrong.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“You seem anatural in the saddle, Eleanor dearest.” Lavinia steered her mount alongside Eleanor’s.
“I think that’s due to the choice of mount rather than any prowess on my part,” Eleanor said, leaning forward to pat Lady Star’s flank, “but I wish these saddles were more comfortable.”
“They take some getting used to,” Lavinia said. “I prefer riding astride, but Peregrine looks at me as if I’m some wild creature whenever I suggest it.” She smiled. “I daresay Whitcombe wouldn’t have minded. He’s far less imposing than I thought at first, and was most attentive in helping you with your mount. I hope you’ll forgive me for warning you against him before.”
“You only had my best interests at heart, Lavinia.”
“That I did. I’ll even venture to say that his mother seems to be warming toward you. Not enough to be consideredcordial, but from what I’ve heard of her,nottalking down to a young woman in public is her greatest compliment.”
Eleanor giggled. “I was terrified of her at first, but she wasn’t as bad as I feared. She even offered to give me a pug when I took tea with her.”
“Excellent! Did you agree?”
Eleanor was spared the necessity of replying by a hail from Whitcombe, who, with Marlow, had drawn his mount to a halt beside a whitewashed, red-roofed building.
“This is the school,” he said. “What do you think?”
The building seemed sound, and the surrounding garden tidy, if not particularly cheerful. But the front gate hung at an ungainly angle, as if one of the hinges had broken, and there was a crack in one of the ground-floor windowpanes.
“It looks in need of repair,” Lavinia said. “Has it been occupied long?”
“Six months, maybe less.”
“And you expect your tenants to reside in a building with a cracked window and a roof that undoubtedly leaks?”
“It doesn’t leak, Lady Marlow,” Whitcombe replied. Then he met Eleanor’s gaze. “I had it repaired before the school opened.”
Was it her imagination, or did she see a plea for approval in his eyes?
“It doesn’t look like a school,” Eleanor said, “but a school isn’t about the building, is it? It’s about the children, and those willing to teach them.”
