A Chance Encounter Read Free Page B

when none was forthcoming, he added, “You could be as extravagant as you chose and I would not breathe a word against it. At least I should try not to, at all events.”
    “Very good of you, I am sure,’’ said Miss Chadwick. She was looking at him now and there was the trace of a smile upon her face.
    Encouraged, Lord Humphrey pressed home his point. “And of course there is the advantage of social position. That is what Miss Ratcliffe finds so attractive about me, I suspect. She would eventually be the Countess of Dewesbury and mistress of Dewesbury Court, which is a grand sprawling place. Mind you, I am not all that fond of the older section of the house. It is too damp and dark for my taste, besides being haunted.”
    “Haunted?” Now Miss Chadwick looked at him wide-eyed. “Surely not!”
    “Quite, quite haunted,” Lord Humphrey said cheerfully. “Some Tudor ancestor of mine lost his head to the headsman’s ax and he has had the bad taste to roam the halls for centuries, his severed head under his arm, while groaning in the most heart-rending fashion.”
    Miss Chadwick shuddered, her lively imagination calling a vivid vision to her mind. “No, I don’t wonder that you do not care for that part of the house.” She suddenly recalled the point of their discussion as she watched the last sinking of the sun beyond the hedges. The lateness of the hour brought her renewed anxiety. “I don’t care for all that, my lord. Unlike your Miss Ratcliffe, I would be quite content in a small cottage to call my own.”
    “She is not my Miss Ratcliffe,” Lord Humphrey said, revolted.
    “I beg your pardon,” Joan said meekly, recognizing that she had given grave offense.
    “Yes, well.” The viscount grudgingly accepted her apology. “I don’t care for her overmuch, you see. She treats me much like a pet pug, giving me only an absent pat now and then until she wants something of me,” he said by way of explanation.
    “How awful. But I know exactly what you mean. I once had a friend—at least, I thought she was my friend. In any event, for a while I was indispensable to her. I was always willing to stand in for her whenever she took it into her head to cast off an old beau in favor of a new one. I was her most trusted confidante and she, mine.”
    Joan reflected a moment before she sighed. “I was most disappointed in her after my papa died. When I went into mourning, she had not much use for my company. In fact, I did not see her above a half-dozen times after that, and on those occasions it was I who called upon her. I doubt that I was ever missed when I came to stay with the Percys.”
    Lord Humphrey reached out his gloved hand and put his fingers over her tightly clenched fingers where they curled for purchase under the seat. “You will not be subject to such glaring distress again, I promise you. As my wife, you will naturally be entitled to every comfort.”
    Joan was shocked by his lordship’s intimate gesture, but she was touched as well. It spoke well of his own sensitivity to discern her old hurt and attempt to reassure her. However, she could have wished that his reassurance did not stem from his continued delusion that she was going to wed him. She removed her hand from the warmth of his clasp and reached across herself to grasp the seat railing so that she held it with both hands.
    Lord Humphrey felt dimly that something more was called for from himself. He frowned deeply, then his brow cleared. “You did say that you had no objections, Miss Chadwick,’’ he reminded her triumphantly.
    “I didn’t know what I wasn’t objecting to,” Joan exclaimed, rather incoherently. His lordship was frowning again, apparently attempting to puzzle out her meaning, and she tried again. “My lord, how can you persist in this foolish notion? Surely you must see that I cannot possibly become your wife. The differences in our stations in life, your own averred commitment to an old family promise, the obvious