Otherwise Engaged

by Joanna Barker

  She gave a short laugh, spraying a few crumbs over her bedsheets.

  “It was no laughing matter!” I said, though I laughed with her. “The servants ran around in a dither before the fire was put out. It smelled like ash for a week.”

  “Were you in trouble?”

  “Yes, with Mrs. Hale for creating such a mess in her domain. I learned to avoid the kitchen after that.”

  Olivia continued to grin as she munched on her tart, and I watched her with a curious tilt to my head. She’d never reacted so freely before.

  I hesitated, standing there beside her bed. There was no reason to stay any longer, yet something told me I ought to.

  “I saw you ride up the drive,” Olivia said, making my decision for me.

  “I—yes, I rode.”

  “Why did you use a saddle today?”

  I blinked, then glanced quickly at the nursemaid across the room. She did not seem to notice or care about Olivia’s odd statement. I moved to the bed, sitting beside her so we could talk quietly. “I only ride without a saddle when I am alone,” I said quietly. “And how did you know about that, anyway?”

  I hadn’t thought she’d noticed Stella at all on that day I’d rescued her at the lake. Lieutenant Avery certainly hadn’t noticed until I’d mounted.

  “Nicholas told me,” she said simply, inspecting her tart before taking another bite. It took me a moment before I realized she meant her brother.

  “Did he, now?” Lovely. An eleven-year-old girl with no qualms about yelling in church knew my secret. Well, one of my secrets.

  “He said he would never have imagined a lady like you could do it.”

  That made my irritation dissipate somewhat.

  “How do you do it?” she asked.

  “Ride bareback?”

  “Yes.”

  I sat back a bit. “It is not easy. I have had to practice a great deal.”

  She nodded, taking another bite of tart. What were all these questions about? I did not think she was particularly interested in riding, but it almost seemed as if she were hungry for conversation.

  I toyed with the loose edge of her blanket. “Have you had a chance to make any friends in town yet?” I knew she hadn’t but could not think of a better way to introduce a new topic.

  She chewed for a long moment before responding. “No.”

  “Many of the young ladies attend my sister’s school for girls in Millbury. I’m sure they would love to know you better if you gave them the chance.”

  She shook her head. “They wouldn’t like me.”

  “Why would you say that?”

  Olivia did not speak for a long moment, focusing on the half-eaten tart in her hands. “I am not good at making friends.”

  Her brutal honesty struck once again. I gripped my hands in my lap. What was I to say to that? Was that why she had been so reluctant to attend church yesterday?

  “Perhaps you simply ought to allow them the chance,” I said, my words far from adequate. “After all, I like you.” I was rather surprised to find I meant it. Olivia was temperamental and unpredictable, but she spoke her mind, and I quite liked that. “You’ll find the right friends soon enough.” I patted her hand, a sad attempt at comfort.

  She nodded slowly. “Thank you, Miss Rowley,” she said and seemed to mean it.

  Perhaps I was not so terrible with children after all.

  “Good.” I stood and smoothed my skirts. “Do rest well, Olivia. I hope you recover soon.”

  She sniffed. “Of course I will. It is only a cold.”

  At least she would keep me humble.

  I made my way back down the stairs, glacing about surreptitiously as I wentLieutenant Avery was still nowhere to be seen.

  I nodded my thanks to the footman as he opened the front door for me, and I skipped down the steps in anticipation of my ride back to Havenfield. Perhaps I could fit in a quick gallop on the road back.

  A groom still held Stella’s reins, but as I started toward them, I spotted a horse and rider cantering away from the far end of the stables. I recognized the horse immediately. It was Lieutenant Avery’s bay hunter, and a quick examination of the rider’s broad physique and light hair confirmed his identity. He must have been in the stables the entire time.

  I walked to Stella as I watched Lieutenant Avery and his mount grow smaller in the distance. If I were to guess by his direction alone, it would seem he was headed for the lake—or my meadow. I squinted at him, the afternoon sunlight causing white spots to dance across my vision. Was that a leather pouch slung over one shoulder?

  I mounted Stella with a helping lift from the groom and took my reins. We started down the lane toward the road, but I glanced back in time to see Lieutenant Avery disappear behind a line of trees. Why was he going to my meadow? If he was going to my meadow, that is.

  I had so wanted to tell him about Juliana and the school. When would I have the chance again? And I could not deny my growing curiosity as to what he had in that leather bag of his.

  I allowed Stella to walk unhurriedly down the dirt lane as I kept the retreating groom in the edge of my vision. Even if the lieutenant and I knew there was nothing romantic between us, it would hardly do to be seen dashing after him into the woods. As soon as the groom reached the stables, I wheeled Stella around and kicked her into a canter, following after Lieutenant Avery.

  Chapter Eleven

  I knew I’d found him when I spotted fresh hoofprints in the damp earth near the lake. I eased Stella to a walk, following his trail through the brush and around the edge of the water. If he wasn’t going to my meadow, I hadn’t any idea where he might be headed.

  Then I spotted his horse tied to a tree not a hundred feet ahead. Odd. Where was the lieutenant? I dismounted beside his hunter and wrapped Stella’s reins around an adjacent branch while I inspected the surrounding area. The ground was rockier here and yielded no discernable footprints.

  A roaring crack split the silence. I spun and grasped the tree trunk to steady myself as the air shuddered around me. Stella skittered nervously, head bobbing and hooves dancing beneath her. I went to her and whispered calming words. The other mount beside us showed no reaction, as if he were comfortably stabled with fresh hay instead of foraging for grass on the rocky shores of the lake.

  Another blast echoed through the trees, and I no longer wondered what Lieutenant Avery had in his pouch.

  Stella eventually calmed, no doubt reassured by the other horse’s steadiness. When a third shot echoed around us, she only swished her tail in response.

  “I’ll be back for you.” I patted her neck as I stepped away, then wound through the trees and underbrush, following the sounds of intermittent gunfire until I reached the meadow. I finally spotted Lieutenant Avery through the reaching branches of a silver birch tree. He had removed his hat and jacket and stood in just his waistcoat and shirtsleeves, his back to me. The not-so-mysterious pouch now lay open on a flat rock nearby. As I watched, he set his feet in a wide stance, and both hands raised his pistol as he took careful aim.

  I stepped closer, craning my neck around the tree. Some distance away, various items—glass jars and small fabric bags—swayed from ropes on a low-hanging branch. The lieutenant aimed for nearly ten seconds as the scant breeze ruffled his hair. When he pulled the trigger, the shot tore through my ears, almost painfully. A jar with a long neck shattered, glass spraying in all directions.

  Lieutenant Avery showed no reaction as he lowered his pistol. Several other ropes hung empty from the branch, their contents no doubt gone the same way as that jar.

  I stepped from the trees. Now seemed a good time to startle him rather than after he had reloaded. I readied an amusing quip. “A fine show of skill, Lieutenant, but—”

  He spun, and my words froze in my throat. His eyes shone, his expression was fierce, and his pistol r
ose just a fraction before dropping once again. He breathed heavily as his scar pulled tight against his jaw. He stared at me and I at him, my hands clutching the skirt of my riding habit so hard I thought my bones might crumble.

  “Miss Rowley,” he said, his voice rough. “What are you doing here?”

  He still grasped his pistol, and though I felt no fear that he might harm me, I could not help the strange stirring in my chest. He was not like the men I danced with at balls or flirted with at parties. He’d survived cannon fire and faced down storms and commanded men during battle.

  I dropped my gaze, hoping the words might come easier if I did not have to look at him. “I-I followed you. I was bringing Olivia her tarts and saw you leave.”

  I heard him take a long, deep breath. “And you thought it an excellent idea to interrupt a man in the midst of shooting?”

  He did not sound angry. I glanced at him. The tension in his posture had eased somewhat, and he eyed me with what might be amusement. Or possibly irritation. My mind was far too unraveled to trust its judgment.

  “It was not an ideal situation,” I managed.

  He fiddled with one of the pistol’s mechanisms. “No harm done, in any case. Though I’m afraid I startled you.”

  “And here I thought I had surprised you.” I attempted a light tone as I stepped forward again. I did not want him to know how taken aback I’d been at the sight of him.

  He knelt beside the large rock that held his powder, balls, and ramrod and began reloading his pistol. I stepped closer, watching as his hands moved deftly over his weapon.

  “Do you come shoot out here often?” I asked.

  “Only when Olivia is excessively irritating.”

  “So quite often, then.”

  He stood again, the corner of his lip tugging upward. “More than I should say.”

  He stood and turned back to his targets and raised his pistol. This time, I was prepared for the ringing shot when it came, his bullet exploding into what looked like a small bundle of dried peas.

  “Are all navy men excellent shots?” I asked. “Or are you trying particularly hard to impress me?”

  He cast me a sidelong glance as he again bent to reload his weapon. “Or are you simply trying to gain favor with me for some reason? Flattery is the devil’s work, Miss Rowley.”

  His humor was so very dry that I could not help but laugh. “Perhaps when the flattery is untrue. But you are an excellent shot.”

  He gave a small shrug as he worked. “I’ve been practicing a great deal since coming to Millbury.”

  I eyed him. Most men would not have modestly deferred the compliment as he had. In fact, they likely would have exaggerated their prowess to a ridiculous extent, boasting of hunting trips and bagging dozens of fowl in one day. As if how many driven pheasants a man shot in one day was an accurate measurement of character or worth.

  Edward had done that once. The men at a dinner party in Brighton had been discussing the upcoming shooting season, and Edward had taken it upon himself to crow about his success in the field the year before. Even I did not believe him when he’d insisted he’d shot too many braces of birds for the servants to carry.

  I shook my head. That did not mean Edward was dishonest. It was simply the talk of the party, and he’d only been joining in. But I could not imagine Lieutenant Avery participating in such a self-important conversation.

  The lieutenant’s fingers moved quickly over his weapon as he finished loading, his motions practiced and sure. When he stood again, he faced me fully, his back to the targets. “If you did not come here to flatter me, disappointing as that is, might I ask why you did follow me here?”

  Straight to the point, as I’d come to expect from him.

  “I spoke to Juliana,” I said. “About Olivia.”

  His eyes focused on mine. “And?”

  “She says there is an opening at the school, if you’d like it.”

  “Yes,” he said immediately. “Yes, I would.”

  “Not even a moment to consider it?” I said with a laugh.

  “I’ve been considering it since yesterday.” He spoke matter-of-factly. “The more I think about it, the more right it feels to me.”

  I nodded. Olivia ought to be around girls her own age, learning and growing. “I quite agree.”

  He frowned suddenly, and I tilted my head. “What is it?”

  “I am only wondering how I might go about convincing her to attend.” He rubbed his neck. “She is rather stubborn, if you hadn’t noticed.”

  “A shocking revelation, to be sure.” But I considered his dilemma. Olivia had just told me how terrible she was at making friends. Was that only her fear speaking though? “Perhaps you might ease her into the idea. Take her to visit the school, see the other girls, and meet Juliana. No one can help but love Juliana. When Olivia is more comfortable with the notion, you can tell her the good news.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Should someone so young be so wise?”

  I waved him off. “Common sense is not wisdom.”

  “Yet I seem to lack the common sense you have in droves, at least in relation to Olivia.”

  I lifted my shoulder. “It has not been so long since I was Olivia’s age. I have no doubt you will grow to understand her better the more you know her.”

  “I certainly hope so.” He scrutinized me for a moment. “Now, tell me truthfully. Did you come just to speak with me, or did you also come to practice?”

  “Practice?”

  “Yes, your rather unforgettable method of riding,” he said. “I am more than happy to relinquish the meadow to you. I am perfectly able to shoot elsewhere.”

  That was all I had wanted from the moment we’d met, yet now that he said it . . . I did not want it at all.

  “No,” I said. “Please stay. In any case, I no longer have the opportunity to practice.”

  “Why not?”

  “I promised William I would not ride without an escort, and since I must keep my practicing a secret . . .”

  “I see,” he said thoughtfully. “Well, I happen to know your secret.”

  “Which does not reassure me.”

  He ignored my addition. “If your brother is concerned over your riding alone, allow me to act as your attendant. We’ll meet here. You can ride, and I will shoot.”

  The idea was immediately appealing—reclaiming my freedom and resuming my rides. But there was another issue.

  “It is hardly proper for us to be alone,” I pointed out. “The two of us are settled being friends, but the matter would be different if we were discovered together.”

  “A valid point,” he conceded. “But am I wrong to think you chose this meadow for its seclusion?”

  I crossed my arms, contemplating the idea. Before Lieutenant Avery had moved to Linwood Hall, I’d never come across a soul here. “It might very well work. But it seems something of an imposition on you.”

  His expression sobered. “I think we have already established I am deeply in your debt, Miss Rowley. Allow me to repay you in what small way I can.”

  I hesitated only a second more. “Thank you. In truth, I have been growing restless, and I would hate to undo all my work of the last year.”

  He waved me off. “Go on. I imagine you left your horse by mine. You may as well get on with your practicing while I tidy up.”

  “You are finished?”

  “I normally shoot a while longer, but I do not wish to frighten your mount. I daresay she’ll grow used to the sound in time, but let us not press it today, shall we?”

  I hurried to fetch Stella, not wanting to waste a moment. I mounted quickly with the help of a tall rock and cantered back to the meadow, where Lieutenant Avery had already packed away his pistol, powder, and balls. He stood beside the target tree, loosening knots and removing the ropes. He eyed me as I slid fro
m Stella’s back.

  “So tell me,” he said. “Why is it you are so keen to ride bareback?”

  I gave a little shrug as I bent to loosen the girth beneath Stella. “Last year in London, Mama took me to Astley’s.”

  “Ah,” he said with a nod. “The trick riders.”

  “Yes.” I tugged on the strap, pulling it from the buckle. “They were astonishing. I’d never seen anything so bold, so exciting.”

  “If you thought that exciting, you ought to join the navy.”

  “Since I do not have that option available to me,” I said wryly, “Astley’s is as close to adventure as I can get.”

  “Adventure.” He repeated the word as if he did not understand the meaning. He took his hanging targets and placed them in a large, roughly woven sack.

  “Yes, adventure.” I laid a hand on Stella’s side as her hooves moved anxiously beneath her. She calmed. “Do not misjudge me, because I do enjoy parties and dancing and entertainment. But—” I stopped, my fingers curling about the smooth leather edge of the saddle.

  “But what?”

  I did not know how to put my feelings into words. I’d never thought to ask myself why I did such things as ride bareback or laugh too loudly at dinner parties only to earn disapproving glances from the hostess—or enter into a secret engagement with a man I’d known less than a month.

  “But there must be more,” I said simply. “More to life than diversions and vying for a better position in Society. Because I feel as though I am floating on the surface of my future, and I wish to find it, grasp it, and be immersed in life and happiness and passion.”

  That was what Edward had been to me. What he was to me. A chance for a life all my own, with a man who understood me.

  Lieutenant Avery walked back toward me and set his sack by his pouch. “I envy you,” he said.

  I turned to face him fully, one hand resting on Stella’s flank. “Why is that?”