Dorothy Elbury - The Major and the Country Miss

‘My dear Mr Maitland!’ she exclaimed, rising from her seat and hurrying forwards to greet him. ‘I have so wanted to meet you face to face! How can I ever thank you for saving my son’s life?’

Doing his best to ignore his cousin’s disdainful sniff, Maitland reached forwards and took Lady Letitia’s outstretched hands into his own. ‘Eddie is my friend,’ he said gently. Then, looking up and catching sight of the viscount’s sober expression, he added, ‘Had the roles been reversed, I know that he would have done nothing less!’

Tears glistened in her eyes as, releasing her hands from his clasp, the countess threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. ‘You dear, dear boy!’ she cried. ‘I beg that you will always consider Gresham Hall as a second home!’ And, raising herself on tiptoe, she reached up and kissed him on his cheek.

Maitland returned her hug in much the same way as he was often wont to embrace his own mother and, after allowing her a few moments to regain control of herself, led the countess back to her seat. Then, having complied with her request that both he and his cousin should sit themselves down, he enquired as to the whereabouts of her ladyship’s other guests.

‘My father took several of the gentlemen out on a drag-hunt early this morning,’ answered Catford, on his mother’s behalf. ‘The rest of our party are sunning themselves in the garden.’

‘We were out there ourselves until Moffat brought news of your arrival,’ added the countess, with a warm smile. ‘But I did so want to speak with you alone before you were besieged by the others.’

‘I trust that you are making a jest, your ladyship!’ exclaimed Maitland, in horror, doing his best to ignore the nearby viscount’s smothered laugh. ‘I must assure you that I have no desire to be besieged by anyone!’

‘Then I fear that I shall have to apologise in advance, my dear boy,’ returned Lady Letitia, leaning forwards to pat his hand. ‘Your exploits have become somewhat legendary within the family. It would be well nigh impossible for me to try to prevent any of them from wanting to shake you by the hand and offer you their thanks. If you could just grin and bear it for a few minutes, I promise you that it will soon be over and done with!’

Assuring the countess that he would do his best, Maitland rose and, offering her his arm, led her out of the room and down the stairs. Fenton, whose earlier fit of pettishness had not been improved by her ladyship having, apart from her initial greeting, virtually ignored his presence, followed the pair, unaware that his revulsion at the thought of having to stand by and witness Maitland basking in hero-worship was not entirely dissimilar to his cousin’s own feelings at being obliged to submit to it.

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