And in her case, boredom would not be an issue. On the contrary, getting heirs by her was likely to be a tempestuous affair—a vision flashed into his mind of her fists raining blows onto Pattison’s chest—if he could teach her to channel all that passion and energy more productively, he might even think about putting off his mistress altogether. Lush curves were not all that a man sought from his bedfellow.
He might do it. He really might do it.
Both men slowed their horses to a walk, their breathing laboured, their faces flushed with exertion. He turned in his saddle towards Peter.
‘Can you satisfy my curiosity with regard to Lady Hester? Am I right in assuming she performs the duty of unpaid housekeeper for her aunt?’
‘Ah, in a manner of speaking. That is, shouldn’t say so, but dare say you’ve noticed already. My mother-in-law gets flustered very easily. Not sure how she would cope with us all descending on her like this if Hester wasn’t here to help out, but Hester loves that sort of work, you know. Brilliant organiser. According to my wife, she loves planning things down to the last little detail.’
He had already deduced that Lady Gregory could not be the brain behind the smooth running of her establishment. So, Lady Hester would not shine at tonnish parties, but then he did not care overmuch for them anyway. She could certainly cater to the needs of guests he might invite to any one of his estates for hunting, say, or a shooting party.
‘And she organises the most marvellous games for the children, treasure hunts and what have you. They all love coming to stay here.’
Yes, they did. A smile curved his lips at the thought of her rapport with children. He had never voiced his hope that he could find a wife with strong maternal instincts. But that was what he wanted. A woman who would not regard presenting her husband with an heir as a chore to be endured, nor regard successive children as expendable spares. His smile faded. It would hardly matter in the long run if his wife and he came to detest each other. If he could only provide his children with a mother who would want to be with them, who would lavish affection on them as his own mother so conspicuously had not. She had not even shed a tear, so far as he knew, for Bertram, so little did she care for anything but the fashionable world.
Lady Gregory would be livid if he chose her gauche, neglected niece over one of her pampered daughters. And as for Sir Thomas…His lips curved into a malicious smile. It would almost be worth marrying Hester simply for the joy of putting that jumped-up country squire in his place.
He would have to conduct his campaign with care, though. He wouldn’t put it past Sir Thomas to prevent his access to Lady Hester altogether if he got wind of his intentions.
His smile widened. From what he had already learned of Lady Hester, he would warrant she would revel in a clandestine courtship. Her propensity for sneaking off when she ought to be about her duties, her very desperation to escape the confines of her existence, would soon drive her into his arms in spite of the poor start they had made, if only he could somehow alert her to his intent.
As they turned their mounts towards The Holme, he discovered that he no longer felt depressed at the prospect of matrimony. On the contrary, he was looking forward to the many challenges it represented.
* * *
Sir Thomas tossed his riding crop on to the cluttered desk, raising a cloud of snuff.
‘How could you, Hester?’ He turned to stare out of the window, his hands clasped behind his back as she slunk into the room and softly closed the door. ‘I was prepared to let it go yesterday, especially when I learned his lordship saw you. I did not want to add insult to injury by reminding you what a foolish risk you took. However did you think you would get away with sneaking off like that?’
Hester sighed wearily and lowered herself into the chair that faced his desk. ‘I didn’t think anyone would miss me with all the excitement his lordship’s arrival had stirred up. I thought the servants would assume I was above stairs with the family, and that the family would assume I was below stairs tending to household matters. Indeed, if his lordship had kept his mouth shut, nobody would have been any the wiser.’
‘Then I am glad he did.’ He turned, bracing himself upon the desk, his fingers splayed. ‘I knew the temptation would be great. As soon as Baines came and told me the gypsies were camping on your land, I knew how much you would want to go down there and see Lena. And before we get into that old argument about whether or not they poach game from my coverts while they denude yours, I must insist you consider the possible repercussions of your clandestine visits to Jye’s caravan.’
‘I was careful—both times.’
‘Yet the marquis almost discovered what you were about both times,’ her uncle snapped. ‘Yesterday, as I said, your visit was understandable, given that they have been away a full year, and your heart is so deeply involved. But to go down there again this morning…And there is no point in denying the gypsy camp is where you have been. I can tell from the artwork adorning your hat.’
She fingered the paper flowers ruefully. How ironic it was that a gift given with affection had betrayed her.
She sighed. ‘Truly, Uncle, I never dreamed Lord Lensborough would be up and in the stable yard so early.’
‘No…he is not what your aunt led me to believe he would be at all. In fact, the more I learn about him, the more I think…’ He shook his head. ‘Did you know he breeds racehorses? But we are straying from the point again. The point is, if anyone should see you hobnobbing with gypsies, the fat will be well and truly in the fire.’
‘But nobody will see me. And even if they did, what could they possibly suspect, other than that I am a bit eccentric for wanting to help children that most would shun. They will only see me teaching a group of children to read and write.’
‘Hester, anyone with eyes in his head will take one look at Lena’s pale, freckled skin and see that she is not a pure-blood Romany. Then they will look at you beside her, and wonder why her hair and eyes are exactly the same colour as your own.’
Hester wound a tendril of burnished chestnut round her gloved finger guiltily.
‘How do you know how closely she has grown to resemble me?’
‘Because,’ he admitted with a rueful smile, ‘I went down there myself yesterday to take a look at her too.’
Hester’s eyes filled with tears. For all Sir Thomas’s anger when he found out about the liaison of gentry with gypsy, for all his refusal to allow the offspring of that illicit coupling to be reared in his home as Hester had once begged him to do, he could not quite quench all feelings for the little girl, Lena, his great-niece.
‘Well, then…’ Hope flared, only to be abruptly extinguished by her uncle’s next words.
‘Hester, we cannot undo the past, but I will not permit another’s sins to threaten the welfare of my own daughters. Julia and Phoebe are both insistent they want a match with their marquis, and believe me, a man of his stamp will not take kindly to the scandal we have sitting—literally, as it happens this week—on our doorstep.’
He added briskly, after Hester had brooded over his words in silence for some minutes, ‘Besides, consider the sensibilities of your aunts, Lady Susan and Lady Moulton. You must see how upset finding out about Lena would make them? So far we have managed to keep her existence secret from all but our two selves. I would like it to stay that way. I particularly do not wish any scandal to break this week, while my own girls’ futures hang in the balance.’
Hester sighed. ‘You are right, Uncle Thomas. I have been abominably selfish. It is just that the few hours I can snatch