A Lady Never Tells(13)
A few minutes later, dressed in her best day dress and bonnet, her hands encased primly in ladylike gloves, and wearing the dainty silver earbobs she had inherited from her mother—for she was determined not to look like the impoverished relative that she was—she set out from the inn. It was easy to hail a vehicle here to take her to the earl’s house, and she settled into the seat with some satisfaction. It did not have the elegance of last night’s conveyance, of course, but she had at least managed it on her own. She thought that it boded well for the project before her.
It was not until the hack stopped in front of an imposing gray stone building and Mary climbed down from the carriage that she realized with horror that the only coins in her purse were American. The driver had jumped down and stood waiting expectantly as Mary tucked the case containing her papers under her arm and dug in her reticule.
“I-I’m sorry!” Mary stammered, a flush rising in her cheeks. She pulled a few coins from her coin purse and held them out to him. “I haven’t any English money. Will these do?”
The driver stared at her as if she had taken leave of her senses. “No money! ’Ere, wot’s this? Tryin’ to gull me, are ye?”
“No! No, truly—though I’m not sure exactly what that means. But I am not trying to deceive you. I just arrived here from the United States, you see, and I haven’t any money except American coins. I haven’t had time to—to exchange it. Indeed, I don’t really know how to do that. But if you could just wait, I am sure—”
“Wait? Wait for what?” The driver eyed her suspiciously. “Don’t try any of your stories on me, missy. I’m no Johnny Raw.”
“No, indeed, I am sure that you are not. But my grandfather is inside, and he will have some British money to—”
“In there?” The man nodded toward the grand house behind them. “Aye, and I’m cousin to the Duke of Clarence.”
“You are?” Mary asked, taken aback for a moment. “But why—oh, oh, I see. You are being facetious.”
The driver grimaced. “I don’t know about that. But I’m telling you, I’m not leaving ’ere ’til I get my blunt!” He narrowed his eyes. “If you ain’t got coin, I reckon I’d take them little earbobs.”
“No!” Mary’s hands rose instinctively to cover the tiny silver loops that hung from her ears. “Those were my mother’s!”
The man continued to argue, and Mary noticed that a passing couple had paused to stare, then hurried on, and the boy sweeping the crossing at the intersection had strayed down the street to watch them. Soon, she thought, they would attract a clot of onlookers, and her grandfather would not appreciate that.#p#分页标题#e#
“Here!” she said finally, in desperation taking out a silver coin and thrusting it toward him. “It’s silver! Even if it is American, it has to be worth far more than a mere ride across town. It wasn’t even that far!”
The driver grumbled and examined the coin, even biting it, then finally pocketed it with a bitter remark concerning mutton-headed Americans and climbed back onto his seat. Mary closed her purse and thrust it back into her reticule, letting out a sigh of relief. Her hands were trembling from the confrontation.
She turned and walked up the front steps, then paused to set her case down and smooth her skirts. She reminded herself that she was the earl’s granddaughter and he was bound to take her in. Picking up the satchel once more, she raised the large brass ring that ran through the lion’s head knocker and brought it down sharply against the plate.
The door opened only seconds later to reveal a man dressed in old-fashioned blue breeches and coat, with a powdered wig on his head. He had a long narrow face centered by a long narrow nose, down which he stared at her coldly.
Mary, somewhat startled by his rudeness as well as his odd attire, stood silent for a long moment, gazing back at him. The person who answered the door must be a servant, she thought, yet why was he dressed in the sort of wig and clothes that were usually seen only on very old gentlemen?
“The service entrance is to the side,” he said, and stepped back, starting to close the door.
“No!” Mary cried, recovering her voice, and she reached out to grasp the edge of the door. “No, wait. I am here to see the earl.”
“The earl?” The man’s brows rose comically, but he pulled his expression back into its former cool blankness. “I fear you are much mistaken. Now take yourself off.”
“I must see him!” Mary said quickly. “I have very personal business with him. He will wish to see me, I swear. I am here from the United States. I know I should have written first, but there wasn’t time, and a letter would not have arrived before I did anyway, and—”