Free The Weeping Ash by Joan Aiken Page A

wounds. They looked up in surprise, not having heard anybody approaching, and saw a gentleman, plainly but neatly clad in a riding jacket with buckskins and top boots, and holding two pointers on a leash. He made them a polite bow, doffing his hat, and with his free hand proffered the missing kite, remarking:
    â€œPerhaps this will help to quench the young lady’s tears! I presume the kite is your property, my dear? Allow me to return it to you.”
    Without a word of thanks, Patty seized the toy, directing a suspicious look at its restorer from swollen, tear-filled eyes.
    â€œPatty! Where are your manners?” reproved Fanny. “Pray let me hear you say thank you to the gentleman.” And on her own behalf she added, “We are very much obliged to you, sir.”
    â€œOh, pray don’t name it, my dear ma’am,” he said easily. “Am I right in supposing that I see in you Mrs. Thomas Paget? Your husband’s cousin Juliana is a very delightful and charming friend of mine: I trust that we shall soon be equally good neighbors. Allow me to introduce myself—I am Egremont, you know, from over there”—and he waved a hand in the general direction of Petworth House, which, from here, however, was invisible, concealed by some intervening trees and roofs.
    Fanny was very much startled and somewhat at a loss, unable to decide how she ought to deal with such an unforeseen encounter. She could not help being interested in this nobleman, who did not at all seem to live up to his scandalous reputation—except, to be sure, in the ease and unceremonious friendliness of his bearing. He was very fresh-complexioned, though he must be at least in his late forties, with decidedly humorous, twinkling eyes, slightly downturned at the corners, a long, rather hooked nose, and a long-lipped smiling mouth. As Fanny dropped her curtsy, somewhat flustered, and in a halting manner introduced herself and Martha, Lord Egremont went on affably:
    â€œYou’ll forgive my coming around so soon, when I daresay you are all at sixes and sevens still, probably ready to consign me to the Devil! But we are country folk hereabouts, you know, and don’t stand on ceremony. If there is anything you lack at present—a piece of game, for instance, a pine, or a few nectarines—say the word—I shall be happy to let you have any amount of fruit from my succession houses.”
    â€œThank you—you are very kind,” replied Fanny nervously, wondering with the deepest apprehension what opinion Thomas would entertain of this call and its lack of formality. She herself could not help liking Lord Egremont—finding herself greatly attracted by this very ease and want of ceremony—but she was very much afraid that it would have exactly the reverse effect upon her husband. Martha, meanwhile, was frankly gaping, all eyes, and Lord Egremont turned to say to her with great kindness:
    â€œYou will always find a sufficiency of young company up at Petworth House, my dear—my daughters and their friends, plenty of girls to play piano duets with—boys to lead your ponies or partner you for a dance—impromptu hops, you know, nothing formal! I cannot abide formality, but a small comfortable entertainment with the young folk all enjoying themselves is what I like best in the world; so feel free to step over whenever you like. Another pretty girl is always welcome!”
    Martha colored up at this praise but did not take it at all amiss; and Lord Egremont, then turning back to Fanny, inquired with more formal politeness:
    â€œIs your husband—is Captain Paget at home, ma’am? I have not yet had the pleasure of meeting him but should be glad of the favor of his company for a few moments, over a small matter of business.”
    Fanny was beginning to make his excuses and explain that he was from home, when she was interrupted by the sound of a horse’s hoofs and Thomas’s own