Miss Ryder's Memoirs Read Online Free Page A

informed me. “He has an estate there that Robert has visited on several occasions."
    There was a certain amount of accusation in her voice. After all, Robert hadn’t been to visit us for quite a while.
    “Short visits. And I’m so close to London,” Sir John almost apologized for the occasions.
    “What sort of pair do you need?” I asked. One of my passions is driving, but I’ve been warned that on no account am I to mention it to strangers, and only to our usual company if they happen to bring the subject up. “Do you drive a curricle?”
    His eyes looked amused, as though I’d said something precocious. “I do. One of my own design, which is a little more hazardous than the usual, I fear. It’s balance is a trifle finer, and therefore it’s more prone to overset.”
    “I should like to see it,” I said, noting that Mama’s eyes had narrowed in my direction.
    “Perhaps someday you shall. My groom is bringing it along after me; he had to have the shaft repaired in Littlebury.” He turned to Mama. “Which reminds me. I’ve spoken for a room in Cambridge at the White Horse, which seemed a perfectly acceptable hostelry. Will they take good care of my horses?”
    “Of course they will!” I asserted at the same time Mama exclaimed, “We wouldn’t think of letting you stay at an inn when we have the largest, most comfortable house in the world, and with a staff of stable fellows who could care for your animals far better than any public inn. Really, I’m surprised that Robert wouldn’t have told you that you were to stay with us.”
    Amanda and I both stared at Mama. It wasn’t at all like her to make this kind of offer to a comparative stranger. In many ways, she’s a shy woman, as well as being eccentric. Or perhaps she’s shy because she’s eccentric. In any case, we were surprised, but I think not displeased, that she offered to house the fellow. Amanda because of his dashing looks, no doubt, but me because I was intent on keeping an eye on him. Warning signals were going off in my head, for I was sure there was more to his visit than met the eye.
    Sir John accepted the invitation with becoming hesitation. “If you’re sure you have the room. I should hate to put you out.” That sort of thing. But I could tell that he’d never intended to stay at the White Horse at all. Though perhaps he meant to put his pair up there when they arrived.
    “You must bring your luggage straightaway,” Mama urged him. “You’ll have the blue bedchamber, next to Robert's room in the east wing. I think you’ll like the prospect from the windows. Several of the church spires in Cambridge are visible. You didn’t by chance go up to Cambridge, did you?”
    “No, ma’am. I’m an Oxford man myself.”
    I wouldn’t have taken him to be an educated soul at all. Certainly not of the sort who read Latin in the original and have long, pithy discussions on Sydney Smith’s essays in the Edinburgh Review. Papa would have been able to unmask the fellow in short order if he tried to pretend to such learning. But Papa was gone, alas.
    “I could show you around the grounds, if you like,” Amanda offered. “We have some delightful walks at Hastings.”
    It’s a wonder she didn’t expire on the spot, putting herself forward that way. I studied her closely and saw the tint of a blush in her cheeks. She must have felt like a hussy, making such a daring proposal. Ah, it was clear enough that she was taken with the rascal.
    Mama beamed on the two of them. You would have thought I wasn’t there at all. Just to throw them into a little disarray, I asked, “Where has Cousin Bret gotten to, I wonder? Usually he’s hanging about Amanda in the afternoons.”
    The color in my sister’s cheeks rose even higher. “It is no such thing,” she declared hotly. “I understand Cousin Bretford is out with the estate manager, gathering a little information about crops and such.”
    Amanda knows absolutely nothing about “crops and