“She is a most accomplished rider,” Sir Benjamin spokeup.
Lady Daniels scowled at her husband and whispered. “Let her speak for herself,Benji.”
Charlene looked up and responded to Robert’s question. “I enjoy riding very much. I have done quite well in a number of juniorgymkhanas.”
“Howsplendid.”
“With your spacious grounds you must enjoy riding very much,” Charleneadded.
“I find it refreshing. I spend a great deal of time at my desk and it helps to get out and ride the borders of the estate from time to time. I need to make sure all is in order, youunderstand.”
“Perhaps the two of you might enjoy a ride together later this afternoon,” Lady Daniels suggested with a broadsmile.
“I am afraid that will not be possible. I have many duties to attend to. However, I can certainly make a horse available to you and can provide a groom to ride with you if youlike.”
That seemed to dampen the hopeful conversation, and Charlene replied, “Thank you my Lord, but I noticed there are clouds and a breeze gathering and I think I shall decline your kindoffer.”
“As you wish,” Robert replied not caring one way oranother.
However, upon examination, Robert had to admit that this young woman was attractive and he decided to sound her out on a few issues important tohim.
“Miss Charlene, tell me do you read novels?” heasked.
“Oh, no. They are far too unsuitable for me. However, I do enjoy reading The Reverend Timothy Broadbent’s fine series of sermons. Are you familiar with his high-mindedworks?”
“I am not. My tastes do not run toward the ecclesiastical, I must say. Give me a rousing adventure novel or a tale of mystery and intrigue any day and I am quite content to spend many happy hours in front of the fire lost in myimagination.”
Miss Charlene gave a little gasp, and quickly shut her mouth and looked away. No doubt shocked by Robert’s secular tastes inliterature.
Now Robert smelled blood and pounced again. “And do you enjoy travel?” hebaited.
“Oh yes, we have been to the seaside at Margate several times. I love paddling in the sea and exploring the beautiful churches and chapels. It’s a lovelyplace.”
“Well, I must say, one of my favorite places is Marrakesh in Morocco. The splash of colors in the spice market. The crush of peasants, tribesmen, beggars, and townsfolk surging through the souk is quite exhilarating. The wail of exotic music… the wafting scents of cooking meats… the cry of muezzins from the minarets. It is quite beyond description and totally absorbing. Have youbeen?”
The whole family seemed to be profoundlyshocked.
“We would never consider going to a country of heathens and scoundrels,” Lady Daniels huffed in profounddismay.
“What a shame. There is nothing like being a foreigner in a country where you do not know the language and must adapt to another culture to truly widen one’s lifeperspective.”
“We are quite content being who we are. We have no need to accommodate ourselves to the lowly and hideous culture of those who do not speak English and are not upright Christians,” Charlene said in her most outraged and forcefulvoice.
Robert took the last sip from his teacup and stood, nodding to each as he said, “Most enlightening. However, I must excuse myself, and I am sad to say I shall be unavailable during the rest of your stay. But I am certain my sister will make the rest of your visit mostenjoyable.”
* * *
Before leavingthe library after the dreadful tea, Robert took a few papers from his desk and retired to his own rooms where he had another desk he sometimes used when writing and did not wish to bedisturbed.
He studied the list of surrogate author candidates Sir Cecil had given him. Two were crossed off, leavingthree.
All the rest were located outside of London. One was in Nottingham. One was in a small town in Devon and one was nearby in Cambridge. Robert was desperate to get away fromBalfourfor the rest of the afternoon in hopes of avoiding running into the Daniels family again, so he decided to take a ride into Cambridge and visit the Cambridge author, Miss DianaBrowning.
Browning? That name rang a bell. Browning of Cambridge. Yes. There was a professor at St. John’s College. Something Browning… John Browning? No. Carl Browning? George Browning. Yes, that was the name. He had attended lectures in English lit from the fellow. Might he and the author be related?hewondered.
He had no intention of telling Amelia that he was fleeing for the afternoon and evening. She would discover for herself that he was gone and she would be forced to entertain the atrocious guests all byherself.
Robert went to the stable, had his horse readied, and set out for Cambridge. It was late March and blustery in the early afternoon when he setout.
