The Lonely Earl by Vanessa Gray

Author:Vanessa Gray [Gray, Vanessa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Endeavour Press
Published: 2015-06-08T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

The picnic did not take place on the appointed day. The fair weather, which had held, as though in special beneficence for Louisa Waverly’s party, now broke, and the morning of the picnic dawned cold and drear.

The clouds scudded past barely above the treetops, stealing color until the landscape looked steely and unfriendly. Hugh turned from the library window at Crale with resignation. He could not take his daughter out into weather like this — no matter how much she would like to go. There was nothing for it but to tell her.

He toyed with the idea of having Zelle inform the girl of the altered plans. After all, he employed the woman for that very purpose — to stand between himself and his child. For the child was an ever-present reminder of his misery for the past six years, and he hoped in time, though not to forget it, yet to come to some kind of terms with it.

But Faustina had done her work better than she knew. He could not now summon Zelle and give her instructions and then forget about it. For a man whose duty had come upon him strongly and without a great deal of warning, he found that duty was excessive in its requirements.

He had already come to terms with the idea of marrying again, for the benefit of the Crale family, past and future. So much was settled. He would go to London, after he got things in shape here at Crale, the accounts in order, and the fields flourishing again as they had not during his father’s years of declining health, and, in London, choose a suitable bride.

He had no illusions as to his personal charm, even before Faustina had laid his faults bare to the world. But he knew, none better, that a title, especially an exalted one such as his, and a sufficient income would bring him nearly any female he chose. That endeavor, however, lay in the future.

Today’s duties were rather more exigent. And one of them was to explain to his daughter why there would be no picnic today.

She came promptly when he sent the maid Prudence for her. Althea came into the presence of her papa and stopped just inside the door. Prudence, round-eyed with apprehension, closed the door softly behind her.

Even the servants, thought Hugh bleakly, believe me too harsh and unfeeling.

“My dear,” began Hugh in a conciliatory tone, “I know you have been looking forward to the picnic today.”

Althea nodded, an appealing soberness in her small figure. She stood straight and watched him with her eyes that suddenly reminded him of his mother. Hugh began again. “You must be aware that the weather is against us.”

Althea smiled briefly. “I know. It is too cold. We — that is, I — should not like it.”

“We’ll go the first day it is warm enough,” promised Hugh recklessly. Suddenly he was seeing this child of his through eyes that, to be honest, had not looked at her for some time.

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