long ago, and naturally I informed them that it was business and not pleasure that had recalled you to town.”
Lucian hastily stifled a grin. She might widen her eyes, the picture of artlessness, but despite her innocent tone the defiant tilt of the chin betrayed her; there was no doubt that Arabella was a minx or that her weak-willed mother was simply no match for her lively daughter. It was high time that his niece was sent someplace where she would not be able to ride roughshod over everyone.
“Then it is Lady Partington and her daughters who sound like the worst sort of town tabbies, and it is time you were introduced to more fitting company. Fortunately, I have come to speak to you about that very thing.”
“You have?” Arabella eyed him suspiciously.
“Yes. A young lady of your expectations should be expanding her horizons, growing beyond the provincial sort of thinking that inevitably pervades country society.”
“But I like the country. It is peaceful here, and I am happy with simple country pursuits.” She waved a dramatic arm to include the vista of green fields dotted with sheep as well as the basket that she had laid at her feet.
So that was it, the reason behind the carefully staged scene in the garden! She knew he had come to take her to school and this was her way of convincing him that it was a waste of time. “I am more than seven, you know, Arabella. You would insist on being a nun if it suited your purpose. And I do recall that not long ago you were equally insistent that life at Charlmont was intolerably boring.”
“That was ages ago. I have grown up a great deal since then.”
“Yes, all of six months ago, I believe. And I know you have grown up since then,” he responded grimly, thinking of young Foxworthy. “However, it is high time you acquired knowledge commensurate with your age. I have found a place that will give you all that, believe me. It will also prepare you for a future that encompasses a world far beyond Charlmont.”
“But I have no wish to leave Charlmont. I do not want to become some lady of fashion who spends her entire day at her toilette in the hopes of being more a la mode than her rivals. There is no need for me to have a Season in London, for I plan to spend the rest of my life in the country. And surely if you are concerned about my wasting my time ‘spreading gossip like the worst sort of town tabby,’ it would be more sensible to keep me here in the country away from the influence of town tabbies,” Arabella concluded triumphantly.
Lucian was silent for a moment, picturing another strong-minded young lady many years ago who insisted she had no use for the ton , who had resisted her parents’ efforts to give her a Season. But surely, Lady Catherine had enjoyed that Season just a little bit? Certainly it had been the most memorable Season in Lucian’s experience. Every Season after that had been a stale repetition of the one immediately before it. “No,” he responded slowly, “I do not wish you to waste your time in trading gossip and the latest on-dits , which is precisely why I am escorting you to Bath, where you will learn to think for yourself, to develop a mind that can appreciate many things beyond mere on-dits and the latest whims of fashion.”
“Bath? You are taking me to Bath?” Arabella looked thoughtful.
“Yes, that is where the academy is.”
“Oh.” It was almost a sigh of relief.
Lucian could almost see his niece’s mind working feverishly. She knew him to be a man of his word, a man who was immune, or nearly immune, to the machinations of females far more sophisticated than she, and she knew there was no resisting him. She also knew that Bath was a good deal closer to Charlmont than other places he could have selected. Further resistance would arouse his suspicions and perhaps make him think seriously about sending her some place farther away.
“Very well, but I must be able to come home to visit Mama. She has been