The Impossible Ward Read Free

against his chest for a moment before smiling up at him.
    “Well, we shall just have to preserve her from Aubrey’s designs. I wish he were not quite so handsome with that facile charm that is so deadly to inexperienced girls, but perhaps she will not prove to be at all impressionable. What did you say her name was, Justin?”
    “Marianne.”
    “Pretty,” approved his mother. “I hope the girl is attractive too.” She gave a delightful gurgle of laughter. “Do you know, Justin, I am quite looking forward to meeting your ward.”
    “She is not my ward, Mama,” he reminded her patiently. “I am merely her trustee.”
    “And marriage broker,” she added impishly. “Shall you go north to bring her here yourself?”
    “Yes, I feel Perry would expect me to meet the grandfather and assure him the girl will be well cared for.”
    “I shall write to her, and you will deliver my invitation personally.”
    “Thank you for your cooperation, Mama.” This time there was no element of teasing in the gentle smile the tall man bestowed on her, along with a brief bear hug that rocked her off her feet and brought forth an indignant protest that he had sadly disarranged her cap, not to mention her dignity.
    “What dignity?” inquired her unrepentant son with a grin.

 
    CHAPTER TWO
    The sun was just beginning to dip beneath the rim of the distant foothills as the marquess drew rein before a wooden gate a sennight later. He sat almost motionless except for an absentminded gentling action on the neck of a huge bay horse while he narrowly surveyed the property called Crestview Farm that had been home to Perry’s daughter for the past ten years. The lovely stone house set back no more than one hundred feet or so from the lane never started existence as a farmhouse, he decided. Its charming proportions and ornamented windows proclaimed it a rather tasteful small villa, and he thought it likely that it had replaced an earlier structure perhaps no more than fifteen or twenty years before. The pristine condition of the surrounding outbuildings gave mute testimony to the prosperity of the farm. The roofing looked new, the paths were cleared and swept, and there was no lack of fresh paint anywhere. Small, well-kept lawns in front and to the right as far as the bend in the tree-bordered lane made of it a most attractive setting for the jewel of a house. This and the scent of late blooming roses in a riot of colors, in front of a row of hedges, contributed to a mounting sense of relief mingling with the more visual pleasure in his surroundings as he opened the gate and leisurely approached the house.
    The hitherto unacknowledged but pervasive miasma of discomfort that settled on him whenever he considered the deeper implications of his errand lifted a bit as his senses absorbed the green peacefulness of the scene, completely devoid at the moment of another human presence than his own. Useless to deny that he had rather dreaded approaching this young woman whose acquaintance her own father had never once desired to make. With no company and plenty of time for reflection on the long journey, his wayward fancy had persisted in picturing her as existing at a subsistence level, filled with resentment at the retired life she was compelled to lead through no fault of her own; but surely no brooding melancholy could perpetuate itself in this idyllic setting. Perhaps his mission could be reduced to its simplest terms after all: that of removing the girl to his mother’s protection during her period of mourning and her inevitable introduction to Society, followed quickly by a provident marriage to someone who might be more than willing to divide his time between Yorkshire and Town, or even to retire to this locality permanently. Surely any young woman, no matter how contented with her existence, would experience a sense of excitement and thrill at having her provincial horizons expanded. The girl did not exist who could turn her back on such an