MISS HAYES: A Regency Romance (Miss Wolfraston's Ladies Book 2) by Jenny Hambly

Author:Jenny Hambly [Hambly, Jenny]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2020-06-13T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

They agreed to take the phaeton out before breakfast in lieu of their morning ride. Lord Seymore arrived first and strode up and down the yard as he waited for her. He was, he realised, looking forward to their drive. When she forgot to be angry with him, Miss Hayes was really very good company.

A wry smile twisted his lips as he recalled how often he had wished that it had been he, and not Lord Turnbull, who sat beside Miss Hayes as she drove her grays around the park. If wishes had been arrows, Turnbull would have been pierced through the heart many times. Having benefited from a few seasons in Town, that gentleman had all the polish that he had sorely lacked. His commonplace compliments and adoring stares had not been a match for Turnbull’s wit and charm. It was just as well; he had been far too young to form a lasting attachment to anyone. In all truth, his heart burnings had been more posture than anything else. It had been far more comfortable to admire Miss Hayes from afar.

He, and a few of his cronies, had almost felt obliged to pay homage to the latest incomparable, and had spent many an enjoyable evening drowning their sorrows when they had seen the way the wind was blowing.

He came to a halt in front of the coach house as the phaeton was led out, and shook his head as he remembered the foolish thought that had briefly gripped him the day before. He had come out of the library just in time to see Miss Hayes hurriedly disappearing through the side door. Both her haste and furtive manner had intrigued him and so he had followed her. When he had heard her low laugh issuing from the coach house, he had been both surprised and dismayed. The unwelcome thought that she might have crept out to meet someone had crossed his mind. Lord Carstairs, he knew, was visiting Mrs Fancot, and as he had just left an unaccountably out of sorts Lady Carstairs in the library, and both Sir Horace and Charlotte were in plain sight, that left only Mr Fancot.

Although he knew it to be unreasonable of him, for the briefest moment he had wondered if, in rescuing Charlotte from that gentleman’s attentions, she was also serving her own interests. He had dismissed the thought almost immediately; she showed him no particular partiality. As soon as his eyes had alighted on her, he had felt relieved that his ward’s companion would not behave in so reprehensible a manner. When he had ascertained her true reason for being there, he had also felt a little ashamed. Charlotte was always her first concern.

He grinned. How angry she would have been if she could have divined his thoughts. She was no longer the fearless, bold creature he remembered, but nor was she the modest mannered teacher he was sure she had tried very hard to become. The way her

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