Plain and Proper by M J Marlow (beach read TXT) 📕

you other maneuvers.” He looked at Samuel in an assessing manner, and liked what he saw. He was not a useless person. “I assume this rapscallion is on the approved visitors’ list?”
“Lord Samuel Tremayne,” Gerard made the introductions; “son of the Duke of Ravenhold. This is Sergeant Moody, a member of Lord Macalester’s regiment.”
“We saw some of them on night patrol,” Samuel nodded, “when we came to check on Marianne.” He saw the men scowl. “We didn’t like the way her uncle was speaking to her at dinner last night, so we decided that we needed to keep an eye on our girl.” He tugged on one of the loose curls around Marianne’s face and Gerard watched her eyes light with happiness. Gerard wanted to strangle the boy. He had no right to such liberties with another man’s fiancé. “We’d better get moving. Widow Larchmont does not appreciate tardiness.”
“Help me saddle Misty then,” she ordered as she found the saddle and blanket and shoved them at the boy. She grabbed the bridle and reins and hurried out.
“Is she always that bossy, boy?” Moody asked as he followed Samuel out. He froze as he saw the duplicate of the boy he was speaking to talking to Gerard.
“Marianne is not bossy, Sergeant; she is insistent,” Stephen replied as he held his hand out and smiled in welcome. “Stephen Tremayne, Sergeant Moody.” He pointed to the other two boys. “That’s Robert, the heir apparent, and our baby brother, Hugh.” He turned to Marianne. “Margaret had to stay home this morning. The Dowager decided out sister needed a lesson in deportment before the party tonight.”
“Better her than me,” Marianne giggled. She checked the saddling job and sighed. “Samuel, you forgot her trick.” She slapped the mare’s side and the saddle started to slip off as the mare became a great deal narrower. Robert caught it as Marianne adjusted the strap. She went up to the front and looked the mare in the eyes. “I’m of a mind to forget your sugar cubes, you daft old thing.” She mounted in a maneuver Moody had seen grown men miss and he got his own mount. They rode off in a cloud of dust and the bemused adults were sore pressed to keep up with them.
Ten minutes later, they rode up to a whitewashed building where a pretty woman with deep brown hair and sparkling blue eyes was stamping her foot and looking very annoyed. The girl and her strange entourage went inside. They introduced Widow Larchmont to the two men and then Gerard and Moody remained in the background watching as the younger people helped the teacher go over her lesson plans. Gerard wondered why the sons of a duke would agree to do such a thing. But then he remembered who the boss was and he smiled. Marianne had taken the pretty widow under her wing, and her ‘troops’ would do whatever they could to help.
“Widow Larchmont?” Hugh frowned and raised his hand.
“Yes, Lord Hugh?”
“This is Henry Atwater, whose lesson plan I’m working on, correct?’
“Yes.”
“Isn’t he the same Henry Atwater,” Marianne smiled as she turned from her own work, “who has been ordered to work in your gardens because he broke your window?”
“That would be he,” Widow Larchmont nodded. The woman turned her attention back to Hugh. “Your point, young one. Time is wasting here.”
“How can he be expected to be three places at the same time, Widow Larchmont?” Hugh asked her. The teacher looked confused. “It’s lambing season, ma’am,” Hugh continued in a manner that told everyone how he felt about people who overlooked such important events. “His father will expect him to be on hand to help. But you expect him to come to a full day’s schooling and work on your gardens?” He thought it over. “May I volunteer a suggestion?” The Widow nodded and Moody was caught by the way her hair glowed in the sunlight. “Mother is always telling us we need to get more involved in the community.” Hugh blushed and bit his lip. “Could I ask his father if I could tutor Henry Atwater?”
“And my garden, Lord Hugh?”
“Our gardener isn’t doing anything,” Samuel spoke up. “He’s always complaining that our sister Margaret is too much underfoot and he has nothing to do.”
“We could ask him if he wouldn’t mind checking out your gardens, ma’am,” Stephen added. “Just as a courtesy.”
Widow Larchmont smiled and Moody was lost. Whatever was said next went completely unheeded as he admired the way she moved, all grace and no wasted motion. He jumped as someone tugged on his sleeve and looked down to see Marianne smiling up at him.
“If you are through ogling the schoolteacher, Sergeant Moody,” she giggled; “I’m ready to go home now.”
“Where are the Tremayne boys off to?” Moody was startled to see he had not noted their departure.
“Robert is off to join his father on a tour of inspection,” Gerard reported as he held his arm out to the girl, “Stephen has gone to speak to the family gardener. Samuel has his Latin lessons with the Vicar, and Hugh is on his way to the Atwater farm to speak to Henry’s father.
“Oh,” Marianne smiled up at him impishly. “Widow Larchmont asked you three times if you would like to come to supper on Thursday, Sergeant. She’s still waiting for an answer.”
“I’ll check the Duty Roster and let you know, ma’am,” Moody smiled at the teacher. He looked at the girl and shook his head. “Twenty five is not nearly enough for you, young lady.” Marianne giggled and they went to get their horses.
She pointed out the different shops and described some of the villagers to them as they walked. The two men were quite impressed by her attention to detail. They were even more bemused by this child of nature they had been asked to protest. Her smile was like sunshine to a flower. They could understand why people liked having her around. And then the smile died and she was practically scowling. They wondered what could have happened to cause such a drastic change in her attitude.
“Lady Marianne!”
“Oh God!” Marianne cried out in mock horror. “It’s the Vicar!” She made a face and then turned with a sweet and innocent smile to face the tall, lean man in clerical collar and plain, clean clothing bearing down on her. He looked as if he wanted to call down lightning from heaven to strike her down. Gerard and Moody exchanged mystified expressions and settled back to listen. “Good morning, Vicar Winfrey. Have you met Lord Travers and Sergeant Moody yet?”
“Lord Travers. Sergeant,” the Vicar nodded stiffly. He turned back to face his target. “You have been conspiring to undermine my authority again, young lady.”
“Whatever do you mean, Vicar?” Marianne asked the man in a voice that could make a man melt. Gerard certainly felt the effects of it and had to steel himself to remember that he was only pretending to be her fiancé. The more time he spent in this irrepressible child’s company, the more he wished it were not a myth. He wanted her in his arms. He wanted to see that glorious mane of hers loose and flowing around her slim and shapely frame again. He shook his head and put his attention back on the conversation.
“Lord Samuel told me,” the gray bearded man frowned, “after much prodding; that you are the person who taught him his new phrase.” The Vicar sighed in exasperation as Marianne nodded solemnly. “I should be thanking you instead of chiding you, my lady, but couldn’t you have taught him something more useful to say? ‘If I have to say this one more time I am going to scream’, though colorful and amusing, is not ever going to be a phrase he will need.” He heard the Sergeant choke and turned to nod to him and a stunned Gerard. “You should see what this little minx can convince those boys to do, gentlemen. They’re a plague of near biblical proportions when the five of them get together.”
“My uncle seems to agree with you, Vicar,” Marianne spoke up. “He has forbidden me to be alone with them from now on. He seems to think they are a bad influence on me.”
“A bad influence on ‘you’?” the Vicar snorted. “I believe I need to speak to your Uncle, young lady.”
“He’ll probably still be here when you and your family come to tea this afternoon, Vicar,” Marianne smiled up at him. She mounted her horse. “I have to go. Aunt Eustacia wanted to discuss something dreary like dancing frocks or tea pots or something.” She looked at Sergeant Moody. “Are you coming, Sergeant?” Then she turned to Gerard. “Lord Travers?”
The Vicar shook his head as he watched the trio ride off. He caught a flash of light and wondered what it could be. But he had lessons to conduct and had no time for mysteries. He did not see the tall, dark-eyed man and his companion as they lowered their spy-glasses and got their horses. They looked like any other couple out for a ride in the country, but their purpose here was much darker.
“They wasted no time getting to the girl,” the dark-haired man frowned. “The English know she has been marked, Marie.”
“Then we shall have to find a way to ingratiate ourselves with her family or her neighbors, Philippe,” the cold-eyed Marie replied. “She is a pretty little girl,” she noted in a manner that would have a lesser man’s skin crawling. Philippe was used to her manner and her appetites by now. “Hardly a threat to our glorious Napoleon! But he has issued his order and we, as his humble servants, must obey.”
“He wishes a foothold on English soil,” Philippe nodded, “and la petite mademoiselle can give him that.”
Marianne dismounted before her mare had come to a full stop and Gerard bit his lip to keep from crying out in warning. She landed on her feet and began to remove saddle, bridle, rein, and blanket as quickly and competently as any cavalry man he had ever seen. The child was quite impressive. Gerard followed her up to the house with a bemused expression on his face and she burst inside with her usual spirit. The joy died as she saw the woman in dark gray standing next to her aunt.
“Aunt, you promised…”
“I seem to recall the other side of our bargain, child,” Eustacia broke in. “No more running barefoot, no more mud baths, and no more disrespecting one’s elders.”
“I never…”
Eustacia sighed and Marianne quieted. She knew that sound well. There was no getting around it now. Her aunt had made up her mind and she was not going to be disobeyed. Gerard was impressed. He was going to have to ask the woman how she managed it. This child was not an easy person to control; he was going to have a hard time keeping her safe. But he had seen enough to know he wanted her in his life for as long as she would allow it. As far as he was concerned, their engagement was no longer a pretense.
“We are honest with one another, are we not?”
“Yes, Aunt,” Marianne sighed. She turned to her governess. “But must we go through those tedious scales again, Madame Bouchard. They give me a headache.”
“Then you can commiserate with those of us who must listen, child,” Madame laughed, “and do them correctly the first time.” She shook her head as Marianne headed to the Music Room. “And do not slouch, Mademoiselle. You will give yourself back problems.”
“What’s going on, Baroness?” Gerard asked the woman as the doors closed behind the pair.
“Voice lessons,” Eustacia told