Snow Angel by Mary Balogh

Author:Mary Balogh [Balogh, Mary]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Class Ebook Editions, Ltd.
Published: 2018-01-02T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

The marchioness thought the idea of a boat ride on the lake a quite splendid one.

“I would not have thought of it so early in the year,” she said. “Though I don’t know why not. It is a beautiful day, and it is not as if you are planning to swim. At least, I hope you are not planning to swim.” She looked at Lord Beresford.

He grinned. “Someone might be pitched in headfirst if he misbehaves,” he said. “But no, Aunt, we are not planning to swim.”

“Anyway, Joshua,” she said, “it is good of you and Rosamund to agree to go along to chaperon Annabelle and Justin.”

He laughed. “It is the other way around, actually, Aunt,” he said. “They are to chaperon us.”

“Then they have my sincerest sympathy,” the marchioness said. “They never used to arrive home, Justin, without a couple of torn sleeves or hems between the two of them and an assortment of cuts and bruises and some guilty confession to make. Once they had chased a poor sheep into a hedge and could not get it out again.”

“I suffered a great deal more pain than the sheep,” Lord Beresford said, “when my father got hold of me. I remember quarreling with Rosamund because all she got from March was a scolding.”

“But I would not have dreamed of tormenting the poor creature without you to egg me on, Josh,” Rosamund said, batting her eyelids at him.

“Oh, no,” he said, “never. I hear you are a candidate for instant angelhood when you die, Rosamund.”

“From the same source as you heard of Leonard’s age, I suppose,” she said.

It was decided at the breakfast table that Valerie Newton and her fiancé, Mr. Michael Weaver, would go boating too so that they could take two boats instead of loading down the one.

Annabelle did not really want to go, Rosamund discovered when they went upstairs to get ready. The girl wandered into Rosamund’s bedchamber when the maid was still dressing the latter’s hair.

“It is far too early in the year to go boating,” she said.

“But it is a lovely day, Annabelle,” Rosamund said, “and quite calm.”

“There is a walk of a whole mile to the lake,” Annabelle said.

Rosamund laughed. “I think I can drag my aged bones that far,” she said. “I’m sure you can too.”

“I have never really enjoyed boats,” the girl said.

Rosamund dismissed the maid and turned around on the stool to look at her niece. She frowned. “For a girl who is to be betrothed in less than a week’s time,” she said, “you do not seem very happy, Annabelle.”

“Because I do not want to go boating?” Annabelle said. “How silly.”

“He is a very handsome man,” Rosamund said, “and very amiable. You do like him, don’t you?”

“Lord Wetherby?” Annabelle said. “Of course I do, Aunt Rosa. And even if I did not, I trust the judgment of Mama and Papa and Grandmama and Grandpapa.”

Rosamund did not pursue the point. She drew on a warm pelisse and a bonnet and led the way downstairs.

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