“You said you met while out walking?”
She blinked and turned to face me fully. “Yes.” She spoke hesitantly at first, as if gauging my actual interest in the topic, and then with more enthusiasm as she realized I wasn’t merely making polite conversation. “I’ve always taken long walks, and as there has been little else to do while my brother and Michael and Laura fussed and worried over Lord Dalmay, exploring the Dalmay estate became one of the only options to relieve my boredom.”
My hands tightened on the reins at her almost derisive tone. “You could have visited Lord Dalmay yourself,” I pointed out, trying to keep my tone even lest she realize her attitude had galled me. “After all, I’ve never known his lordship to be dull.” I couldn’t resist putting a bit more emphasis on that last word than was necessary.
Miss Remmington gave me a look that said I didn’t know what I was talking about. “He knows nothing about fashion or poetry,” she stated as if those two things told her all she needed to know about a man. “Besides, I wasn’t allowed to visit with Lord Dalmay the first few weeks after our arrival. Not until my brother could be certain he wouldn’t harm Laura or me.”
So even Keswick had been hesitant around William at first. I had wondered. The viscount had not seemed like the sort of man to take such things lightly, even if the man in question was his wife’s brother. That Will had been able to win Keswick’s trust said a great deal in Will’s favor, in my mind.
“I will admit that I was curious to meet his lordship. I had heard the stories. As soon as everyone in London discovered my brother was wed to one of the Dalmays, people couldn’t resist telling me the tragic tale of the dashing war hero gone missing. And the stories my maid brought to me from the servants’ hall were enough to send shivers down my spine, both good and bad.” She straightened in her saddle, arching her neck in prideful defiance. “I even fancied that Lord Dalmay would take one look at me and be instantly cured.”
I shared a glance with Gage behind Miss Remmington’s back, surprised to hear her admit to such a romantic notion. Perhaps acquired from reading all of that poetry.
“But when I met him, it was nothing like I imagined.” Her mouth screwed up in distaste. “And he was old enough to be my grandfather.”
I couldn’t resist darting another look at Gage, who appeared rather displeased with this pronouncement, himself being only seven years younger than Will.
“Oh, I don’t think he’s quite that old,” I told Miss Remmington, resisting the urge to smile at Gage’s annoyance.
“Well, I do know he’s more than twice my age,” Miss Remmington said in a voice that said even that was ancient.
I repressed a sigh and tried to bring Miss Remmington back to the matter at hand. “So did you meet Miss Wallace after one of these visits with Lord Dalmay?”
“Oh, no. I met her weeks before that. On the path that runs along the shore. I had caught the skirt of my redingote on a briar patch and I was afraid of tearing the fabric. She happened along and helped me to get it loose.”
“That was kind of her.”
“Yes. Miss Wallace is very kind,” she replied, imbuing more meaning in that simple little word than I’d ever heard. “Most people aren’t, you know.” She turned to look at me and I was surprised by the sincerity shining in her pale brown eyes. “They pretend they are, and they say the right things, but they’re really just looking out for themselves, their reputations.” She glanced away, fidgeting with the wrist of her left riding glove. “I don’t blame them. I’m the same way. But Miss Wallace truly is kind, in every sense of the word.”
I watched the girl as she continued to scrutinize her gloves and wondered if something had happened in London. I had assumed she was popular because of the sophisticated air she liked to put on, but anyone could feign a confidence they didn’t feel. I knew firsthand just how mean and nasty debutantes could be, especially if you were in any way different from them. Was Miss Remmington, with her isolated upbringing, too dissimilar?
“What else can you tell me about Miss Wallace? Was she pretty?” I asked, realizing I was testing Miss Remmington as much as I was curious about the missing girl.
She tilted her head in thought. “Not in the traditional sense. But there was definitely something about her that was attractive.”
“What?”