“I despise him as if he were a real person, and as if Marianne and Elinor were my sisters. Is this common with novels?”
“Only with the good ones.” Miss Langdon added eagerly, “Willoughby is a cad. He was all the more wicked because he seemed such a good-natured person. I was quite surprised when he turned out to be so bad. How far along are you in the book?”
“I am nearly to the end.” He opened the book once more.
“You like the novel, then?” Miss Langdon’s voice was tentative.
“I cannot say until I reach the end.” If it ended badly, he could tell her that it had been a waste of his time, as he had suspected. But if the story ended as well as it had begun and progressed, then he’d be forced, in all honesty, to say quite the opposite.
He allowed himself a glance in her direction. She was biting her bottom lip, attempting to hide her smile, but she did so poorly. Her companions, Felicity and Elizabeth Mayson, were doing what appeared to be fine embroidery, but Leorah was working with an entirely different material. He wasn’t normally so curious, but he asked her, “What are you making there?”
She looked up. “It is a wool blanket. I am knitting.” She had that defiant glint in her eye.
“Knitting a blanket?” It was not the sort of work most genteel young ladies engaged in, but at least it was practical and useful.
“For the children at the Children’s Aid Mission.” Her brows flicked up momentarily, as though she dared him to say anything derogatory, then she went back to work, bending over her lapful of lavender yarn.
Leorah Langdon making blankets for poor children. The fact that she was a novel reader he expected, but he hadn’t anticipated that she would knit blankets for the poor. Even Hannah More herself would approve of that.
He went back to reading before he said something that would confuse them both.
Half an hour later, he closed the book. Leorah looked up from her work and, ignoring the conversation around her, asked, “What did you think of Sense and Sensibility?”
Her eyes were wide and bright with obvious excitement.
He nodded. “I was pleasantly surprised. It was a very worthwhile story, and I believe anyone could learn something from it, or at least use it to have a healthy discussion about proper behavior.”
She laughed, the same melodic sound she’d made the day before in the library, only softer and a little repressed, as if she were trying not to disturb Mrs. Langdon and the Miss Maysons. He found himself wishing she would not stifle the sound.
“Why do you laugh?”
“I was only wondering if you had enjoyed the novel, if the story entertained you, and you were thinking about how it could be useful. But that is good.” She held her hand up, as if to stop his protest. “I am happy to hear you say you were pleasantly surprised. It is enough for me.” She folded her hands over her chest and bowed her head.
“You may tease if you like, but I approve of this author. If she publishes any more books, I believe I should like to read them.”
“As would I. Imagine it, Lord Withinghall. We have just agreed upon something.”
“Utterly amazing.”
She continued to smile at him. Felicity Mayson asked Miss Langdon a question, drawing her attention to whatever it was they were discussing.
He was being foolish, staring at her, thinking about her so much. He didn’t remember thinking about Miss Augusta Norbury this much. But shouldn’t he be sensible and choose a sensible wife? Of course he should. Miss Langdon was not the sort of wife he’d ever imagined for himself. He would forget about her as soon as Miss Norbury arrived. He must.
“Lord Withinghall is finished with the book, are you not?” Leorah was looking at him again, as were the other ladies in the room.
He lifted the book toward her.
Miss Langdon stood, laying aside her half-knitted blanket. He handed her the book, and she turned and gave it to Felicity Mayson. “You will enjoy this story, I assure you, Felicity. Even Lord Withinghall enjoyed it.” She turned back to him. “But we shan’t tell anyone you were reading novels, Lord Withinghall, if you prefer we keep it a secret.”
He did not deign to reply to her remark. Perhaps he should not have let her think he enjoyed it. “Would you mind sending for a manservant to help me back to my room?”
“Not at all. And I have other novels you might enjoy.” Her delicate brows lifted in that baiting manner of hers.
“No, thank you. I have important things to attend to. My steward shall arrive at any moment to help me with matters of business. I’m afraid I shall have no more time to waste on reading novels.”
“A shame that you have no time for it.”
He recognized the teasing look in her eye, and her mock pity made him want to leave her with some sort of retort. But everything he could think of to say seemed either mean-spirited or just the sort of thing that would amuse her.
The servant held his wheeled chair while he stood on one foot and sat down. Then the servant pushed his chair out of the room, and Edward left, annoyed at himself for not being able to get the last word, and even more annoyed for giving it a second thought.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
A few weeks later, Leorah rode across from her brother in his carriage to the political rally in nearby Alford.
“You did not have to come with me, you know.”
Nicholas only raised his brows at her. “In light of what happened a couple of weeks ago, I thought it best. You need more than just a servant.”
“Who knows what people will be saying about me next. Is that it?”
He smiled. “Julia wanted to come, but she was not feeling well.”
“Nothing serious, I hope.”
“Just a stomach complaint. I think she’ll be well by the time we get home. Tomorrow we plan to view an estate west of here.”
“To let? Or to buy?”
“To buy.”
Of course Nicholas would want to purchase his own estate. But it was hard to imagine Glyncove Abbey without him.
“How far is it?”
“Only twenty miles.”
Their older brother, Jonathan; his wife, Isabella; and their baby, Marianne, would be returning from London in a fortnight, after their shopping trip.
“I’m sorry you had to accompany me. I’m sure you’d rather be at home.”
“You don’t think I’ll enjoy the political rally?”
“A rally about girls’ education? I didn’t know it was an interest of yours.”
“Of course. Wilson and I have spoken many times about the education of our girls. He and Mrs. Wilson have a lot of good ideas on the subject.”
If Leorah could find a man as good and upright as her brother, compassionate and interested in the welfare of others . . . But that was not very likely. She’d never met anyone as good.