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A Desirable Husband. Mary NicholsЧитать онлайн книгу.

A Desirable Husband - Mary Nichols


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we both belong to the Society of Arts, which is how I came to be involved with the idea of the Exhibition. What about you?’

      ‘I met him through the Society to Improve the Condition of the Working Classes. We are both passionate about that.’

      ‘Ah, now I place you. You’re the gentleman who calls himself a navvy. I heard tell of a wager about filling a truck with forty tons of earth in a day. Is it true? Did you do it?’

      ‘Yes, though that was some time ago. Nowadays I only go on site to inspect the works and make sure the men are content. A contented workforce works better than one that is constantly bickering.’

      ‘Then we are in agreement. What is your interest in the Exhibition?’

      ‘Apart from raising funds, I might be interested in supplying the builders with girders and other metal products from my engineering works in Peterborough. And I would like to exhibit a locomotive.’

      ‘A locomotive! How would you bring it to the site?’

      ‘Ah, that’s the challenge.’

      Felix laughed and they continued to talk animatedly through all the courses—turbot soup, fish, lobster, game pies, pigeon and mutton, fruit cakes and ices—and only stopped when the traditional loving cup was passed round the whole company. After that the loyal toast was drunk and the National Anthem sung before the speeches. First to speak was Prince Albert, who outlined the reasons for having an exhibition and was vigorously applauded when he said it should be paid for by public donation and not government funds. ‘Which is the reason we are all here,’ Felix murmured.

      The Prince was followed by several more, all echoing the same theme. Sir Robert Peel, an elder statesman and former Prime Minster, said he was confident they would succeed in spite of the objections of some, a pointed reference to people like Rowan. The Earl of Carlisle was the last speaker and he said the Exhibition should encompass all nations, classes and creeds, saying it was predominantly intended as a festival of the working man and woman.

      ‘Which hardly includes anyone here,’ Felix said, as everyone applauded.

      The evening was judged a great success and everyone went away determined to drum up support from their own towns, villages and industries. Felix and Myles strolled out side by side, still talking. ‘Can I offer you a lift?’ Myles asked as he hailed one of the many cabs that had arrived touting for business. ‘I’m going to Kensington.’

      Felix accepted and asked the cabbie to drop him off at the end of Old Bond Street. ‘I can walk from there,’ he said.

      Before they parted they arranged to meet the following afternoon at Brooks’s club to continue their discussion.

      Felix was in a mellow mood as he made his way to Bruton Street, where the family’s London house was situated. It had been a successful evening, he mused, everyone was enthusiastic and it looked as though they might soon sink the opposition. He had met a new friend, a man whose outlook on life and championing of the working classes matched his own and, besides all that, he had glimpsed one of the loveliest young ladies he had seen in a long time.

      He wasn’t quite sure what it was that made her lovely. Was it her perfectly oval face, or her nose, which was neither too big nor too small, or her blue eyes, which were large and intelligent, or perhaps her trim figure with its small waist and rounded bosom? Was it all those things or something else entirely, the essence of the woman that shone through and set his pulses quickening? Judging by the way she reacted to her companion’s scolding she was a spirited chit, not one to be easily cowed. And then to see her again outside the Mansion House, dressed simply but elegantly, hemmed in by the hoi polloi, had made his day, especially when she responded to his salute with a brilliant smile. But who was she?

      He ran up the steps and let himself into the house, chuckling at the memory. He didn’t know why, after so long, he suddenly found he could laugh again when thinking of a woman, but it felt good.

      Esme woke next morning to find the sun shining and the birds singing. After a very wet winter, spring was at last on its way. She scrambled out of bed, washed in water from the ewer on the washstand, dressed in a light wool gown in a soft lime-green and hurried downstairs to greet the new day. She found Rowan sitting in the breakfast room munching toast and marmalade.

      ‘Good morning, my lord,’ she said, helping herself from the dishes on the sideboard: scrambled eggs, a rasher of bacon and a slice of toast.

      ‘Good morning, Esme, you are up betimes.’

      ‘Yes, it is too nice to lie abed. I was hoping I might ride today. Rosie said you could find me a mount.’

      ‘Croxon will hire something for you, but you are not under any circumstances to ride alone. It is not done in polite society and, besides, your parents would never forgive me if you took a tumble while in my care.’

      ‘I won’t take a tumble. I haven’t fallen off a horse since I was five years old and that wasn’t my fault.’

      He smiled. Everyone smiled at Esme, even when scolding her. ‘Nevertheless I want your promise.’

      ‘You have it. Shall I go and ask Croxon now?’

      ‘No, I will do it. He is no doubt preparing the carriage. I shall want it today.’ He rose as Myles came into the room. ‘Morning, Moorcroft.’ The greeting was polite, certainly not jovial.

      ‘Good morning.’ In contrast, Myles was very cheerful. ‘Did I hear you talking about riding?’

      ‘Yes,’ Esme put in. ‘Rowan is going to ask Croxon to hire a mount for me.’

      ‘No need to trouble Croxon,’ Myles said, addressing Rowan. ‘I can save him the bother. I was going to Tattersalls to hire one for myself. I’ll do the same for Esme. We can take a ride together.’

      ‘My thanks,’ Rowan said. ‘I am somewhat busy today.’ And with that he left the room.

      Esme laughed. ‘I don’t think he likes you, Myles.’

      ‘He doesn’t like what I stand for. I don’t think it’s personal.’ He helped himself to food and sat at the table opposite her.

      ‘Did you have a good evening?’ she asked.

      ‘Yes, it was a great success.’

      ‘Oh, that is why Rowan is so grumpy.’

      ‘Is he? I hadn’t noticed.’

      ‘We saw you going into the banquet, Rosie and I. We were standing on the pavement, watching everyone go in, and there you were. I thought you looked very elegant.’

      He ignored the compliment. ‘How did you get there?’

      ‘In the carriage. At least as far as St Paul’s. We walked from there.’

      ‘I am surprised at Rosemary agreeing to it.’

      ‘Oh, I think she secretly wanted to go.’ She paused. ‘Myles, can I ask you something?’

      ‘Ask away.’

      ‘Is it very wrong to smile at a gentleman when he doffs his hat and bows to you?’

      ‘No, why should it be?’

      ‘Rosie said I should have ignored him. You see, we had not been introduced. He was a complete stranger.’

      ‘Oh, I see. Then your sister was probably right.’

      ‘But I’m sure he was a gentleman. We saw him going into the banquet and he was so handsome and elegant and his smile was catching. I could not help responding.’

      ‘I think,’ he said solemnly while trying to hide the twitching of his lips, ‘that you had better be guided by Rosemary.’

      She sighed. ‘I don’t suppose I shall ever see him again, so it does not matter.’

      ‘Bear it in mind if you meet other men who smile


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