Free The Dashing Miss Fairchild by Emily Hendrickson Page A

noticed he is most kind to Lady Kingsmill as well."
    A grim look flashed across Clare's face. Mr. Talbot had seemed more than the perfect gentleman. His eyes and his hands touched her probably no differently than any other man's. It was merely her foolish reaction. Her years were beginning to affect her emotions, that was all. She had no business in longing for his touch, or wishing for a closer relationship. She scolded herself into propriety all the way down the stairs and out the door to the coach, while deep inside she was thrilled to know she would be in the same coach with him, partake of meals together—at least for a few days. As luck would have such things, it was highly unlikely he would return her regard. And that would be the end of that.
    So, resolved to maintain a proper distance and determined that Mr. Talbot should not think she was throwing herself at his head, she accepted his hand to enter the coach. They departed in a flurry of dust. From further down the crescent, Mrs. Robottom took stock of the departure, noting that Priddy was along and the baby left behind.
* * * *
    The trip actually went very well. Meals were no difficulty at all, and Clare told herself she was pleased that Mr. Talbot failed to argue about the bills. Although he insisted upon treating her to an occasional meal, Clare paid for her lodgings and most else. It set her mind at ease. He remained the perfect gentleman.
    The hours passed by in pleasant conversation and exploration of each other's interests. At least, as much as might be said with Priddy sitting across from them with her ears literally straining to catch every word.
    Only when they rumbled through the front gates of Millsham Hall did Clare give Mr. Talbot an anxious look. Could they pull this off? It seemed imperative they find Baby William's parents, or mother, as the case might be.
    "Just follow my lead, promise?"
    Clare gave Richard Talbot a startled look before facing the opening door. “Very well.” She paused a moment before accepting the hand offered by the Millsham footman, then bravely set forth.
    Curiosity gleamed in his eyes, and he watched the party march up the stairs with a speculative tilt to his head.
    "Lord Millsham, please,” Richard said firmly to the butler at the door. “Richard Talbot and Miss Fairchild to see him.” Richard took Clare's elbow with a gentle and proprietary hand as a slim, dark-haired man strolled forth from an adjacent room to greet them.
    He waved a hand at the butler, effectively dismissing the man. “Good day, Talbot, Miss Fairchild. I haven't seen you in years, Talbot. What brings you to Millsham Hall?"
    Darting a nervous look at Mr. Talbot, then back to the earl, who had suddenly assumed a disturbing mien, Clare hastened into speech. “Actually, I am the one who sought your home. I hope I might find Jane, Countess Millsham,” Clare said, not certain if the earl had lately married and she did not know of it. “The last I heard from the dear girl was from here.” He was not to know the two women were barely acquainted.
    "I forget my manners. Come, we must not linger in the hall.” The earl flickered a glance at a nearby footman, then returned his bland gaze to them. “Join the in my sitting room. It gets a lovely bit of sunshine this time of day.” He escorted them across the vast hall into a comfortable-looking room full of sofas and cozy chairs, tables piled high with books and magazines, and vases of summer flowers. In short, a place that was very livable and quite charming.
    Clare studied their host. Odd that his eyes did not match the rest of him, for they contained a distinctly hostile look in their depths.
    Richard noted that Millsham took an uneasy glance at the clock on the fireplace mantel before turning toward them again.
    "Strange that you should come seeking Lady Millsham. I haven't seen her for some time. She never was one to socialize, and I fear she resented my moving into the Hall as quickly as I did. She