A Lady Never Tells(123)
“Good to see you,” Fitz greeted him. “I trust you brought my curricle unmarred.”
Oliver sent him a dry look. “I think I can manage a curricle. Yours is well-sprung, but your grays tend to pull to the left.”
Fitz let out a snort of disbelief. “More likely the hand guiding them.”
“Royce.” The earl shook his stepbrother’s hand last, his eyebrows raised in inquiry. “Any news?”
Royce shook his head. “Nothing since I wrote you. It’s been quiet this week.”
The earl nodded and turned toward his cousins. “Ladies, if you will excuse me, I should wash away the dust of the road. I’ll see you at tea?”
The Bascombes assented, turning reluctantly to go back to their lessons. Royce, however, stepped forward.
“Oliver … if I could have a few moments of your time?”
Mary cast a sharp look at the two men. Stewkesbury regarded his stepbrother in faint surprise.
“I have something of particular import I wish to ask you,” Royce continued.
“Of course. Let us go to my office.”
Mary watched them walk away, her mind racing.
Oliver and Royce strode down the corridor in silence, but as soon as they entered the earl’s office and closed the door, Oliver turned to Royce with a frown. “What’s happened? I thought you said there had been no other trouble.”
“No, it’s nothing like that. It is, in fact, another matter on which I wish to speak with you. I …” Royce paused, looking uncomfortable.
“Yes?” Oliver asked, his interest thoroughly roused now.
“I am asking for your cousin’s hand in marriage. Mary’s, I mean.”
For an instant longer the earl stared at him; then a wide smile broke across his features. “But that’s splendid! Yes, yes, of course, you have my permission. But, Royce, how did this come about? I had thought you—”
He broke off at a short but forceful rapping at the door.
“A moment,” the earl called before turning his attention back to Royce.
However, the knocking sounded again, more vigorously this time. “Stewkesbury! Sir Royce! I wish to speak to you.”
“Cousin Mary!” The earl, not noticing Royce’s apprehensive expression, opened the door, smiling. “How very propitious. Royce has just been telling me the good news.”#p#分页标题#e#
“Has he indeed?” Mary shot a scalding glance at Sir Royce.
“I asked Oliver for his permission,” Royce told her, facing her squarely. “I told you I planned to.”
“I assumed that was what you were doing when you whisked him off.” Mary crossed her arms over her chest and regarded both men with disfavor. “And I presume you gave him ‘permission.’”
“Yes, of course. I hope you will both be very happy.” Oliver smiled at her.
“No doubt we will be, but not with each other.” Mary glared at the earl. “I’m sure it occurred to you no more than it did to him that I had anything to say in the matter.”
The earl’s eyes widened, and he glanced from Mary to Royce and back. “I’m sorry. Did I speak out of turn? I assumed that Royce had paid his addresses to you—”
“Oh, yes, he told me about his plans to marry me, if that’s what you mean. And I told him the same thing I am telling you now: I have no intention of marrying Royce. Now or ever. So make all the merry little plans you want. Just do not include me.”
Mary turned on her heel and stalked out the door, leaving both men staring after her.
“Well.” Stewkesbury pivoted to look at Royce. “I believe your wooing of the lady has left something to be desired.”
Oliver closed the door and returned to lean against the front of his desk, legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles. He regarded Royce quizzically.
Royce ground his teeth. “You needn’t look so smug. You should try dealing with Mary. She is the stubbornest woman on earth. She refuses to admit that marrying would be the best course for both of us. And now she’s taken it into her head to become bosom friends with Lady Sabrina!”
“Sabrina!” All traces of amusement fled from the earl’s face. “I see.”
“I doubt that very much.” Royce turned and saw the look on Oliver’s face, a mingling of sorrow and pity. Waving a dismissive hand, he grumbled, “No, do not play that tune with me. This has nothing to do with Sabrina.”
“Doesn’t it? Your decision to marry seems to have sprung up very suddenly.”
“I am not trying to substitute Marigold for Sabrina! Blast it, man, you are as bad as Mary.”