Worse, down the table, Henry bent his head low to talk to a beautiful lady at his left. What a ridiculous mess. She and Edward needed to have a conversation. If she was to suffer in utter seclusion at this party, why was she here at all?
She couldn’t recover from Henry’s callous remarks. “If a lady changes from being passably interesting to intriguing.” Intriguing. Had that woman at dinner become intriguing to him?
Tabitha would go crazy with nerves if she kept worrying about whom he found intriguing.
Tabitha stomped on her way to the stables, Joanna rushing to keep up. Edward had insisted she bring the poor maid with her wherever she went. Swinging her foot to kick at a stick, her boot connected with the mud beneath and splattered a good bit of it on her skirts.
"Oh bother!"
Her thoughts turned to the mysterious footman. She had not seen him since their duet at the pianoforte. Vastly more entertaining than worrying about Henry, she enjoyed the distraction.
At last, she reached the stables. “Could I please ride your fastest mare?”
The stable hand raised his eyebrows but said only, “Yes, miss.”
Tabitha began to relax as the familiar smells of the barn filled her nose. Friendly nickering from a horse in the stall to her right, and a few stomps of hooves, calmed her more than any placating tones from Tauney would have. She should have asked Oscar to accompany her. What she wanted more than anything right now was a good race. She planned to let the horse have her head and see how fast and how far they could go.
As if conjured by her thoughts, Oscar caught up to her, running. “Where are you going?”
“For a ride. Want to race?”
He grinned. “Now that is a challenge I rarely resist. But Edward is concerned; he didn’t know where you’d gone.”
“Really, Oscar. I am not a child. At home, I don’t inform him when I choose to go for a ride or a walk down the street. I don’t even tell him when I go down to breakfast.”
His face showed sympathy, his mouth lifted in a soft smile. “I know this can’t be easy for you, but Edward is overwhelmed with the task of keeping you safe. It is making him crazy.”
“Tell him we need to converse about this. I will not have another dinner like yesterday’s.”
“Was it that bad?”
The stable hand brought her a beautiful chestnut with white socks on three of her legs.
She turned from Oscar. “She’s beautiful,” Tabitha cooed as she approached slowly, running her hands down the mare’s face. “Let’s go girl. Let’s ride as fast and as far as we can.”
“Wait, what? You’re just leaving? Alone?”
She looked back over her shoulder, feeling deliciously free, and raised a challenging eyebrow. “Unless you want to come with me?”
“They are waiting for me at cards…”
“Well then, you best not keep them waiting.” She stepped on the block and jumped up to ride sidesaddle. “I’ll see you in several hours.”
She rode the horse out of the barn and into the paddock at a walk. A footman opened the gate to let her out onto the estate grounds behind the home. As soon as she cleared the fence, she dug her heels into the horse’s flank, shouting, and they raced forward.
She tore through grassy fields, heading across the high ground. She knew better than to attempt anything down by the river, and she worked hard to avoid the mud.
“Hai-yah!” She urged her mare onward as the wind whipped through her clothing with a delicious chill.
A figure stepped forward among the trees to her left, making her start. The horse skipped a step, faltering in her gait. Her footman tipped his head to her and then stepped back into the trees. Her eyes followed him until the horse had raced too far past. What was he doing out here in the woods? Watching her? A nervous feather tickled in her chest.
Horse hooves pounded behind her. She whipped her head around.
Henry tore up the hill behind her, his face alight with a boyish grin. When she turned to watch him, he gave a great holler and slapped the reins.
She leaned forward, lowering herself in the saddle and urging her horse. “Faster, faster girl.”
The mare responded to her excitement, stretching her legs, beating against the ground. Out across a field they tore, Henry slowly gaining but not quite at her side. Tabitha allowed herself to pretend that he pursued her the way she wanted him to: that they would stop, step off their horses, and he would swing her into a spinning embrace.
“Tabitha! Stop!”
She pulled back instinctively, the alarm in Henry’s voice startling her. She refocused on her surroundings, and the source of his alarm became clear. She approached a fence too rapidly on wet and slippery ground, and on the other side, down a bank, the river rushed past with white-capped water.
Jerking her mare to the right and pulling back hard, Tabitha winced, preparing for the worst.
Henry pulled up beside her, reaching for her reins. But as he did so, the mare jerked away and bucked, unseating Tabitha as the horse’s hooves skidded in the mud.
She screamed as she flew over the fence, flipping in the air and landing on a slippery, muddy bank. As she started to slide, feet-first, down the steep decline to the racing river, she called out, looking back over her shoulder. The last thing she saw before her feet hit the water was Henry leaping over the fence, his face full of terror.
She slid into the river on her backside and went in up to her neck. She jarred to a stop on the moss-covered rocks, her feet ramming up against a large stone with its tip breaking the surface. She tried to stand quickly, the icy water sending shots of pain through her body. But her slippers slid on the moss, finding precarious footing in between the larger rocks.
And then Henry’s sliding form barreled towards her, though he tried to veer to the side. His body slammed into hers, sending them both to the middle of the swift, icy river.
She clung to him, gasping and sputtering. “Oh no!” Though the water was not deep, the current was strong. Before she could firmly plant her feet, they swirled around and rammed into a rock.
Her teeth chattered, but she breathed out in relief that she and Henry were now stuck in a slower part of the river, up against a huge stone, close to shore. When she turned to smile at him, Henry’s closed eyes scared her. “Henry! Henry!!”
His heavy frame began to droop and sink in the water. A line of blood trickled down the side of his face.
“No! No! Help! Someone help us!”
But she felt her shouts disappear in the echo of the roaring water all around her. She ached from the cold, but she pressed herself up against Henry to keep him above the surface.
She tried to wake him. “Henry!” A bruise and a large bump started to grow on his forehead. “Henry! Answer me.” Desperate, she shook him.
He moaned. “Gentle now. I’m all right. Don’t jostle me so.”
“Oh, thank the stars. I don’t know what I would have done.” She stopped. “I mean…”
He searched her eyes with a particular intensity, and he gave her a soft smile before he raised a hand to his head, moaning.
“What? What is it?”
He held up a hand. “Just the ache of all aches pounding in my head.”
She lifted his arm. “Can you stand? I don’t know how much longer I can stay in this water.” Her body shook and her teeth chattered.
“I think so.” He tried to lean on her to pull himself up, but she nearly toppled under his weight, her feet sliding around on the rocks beneath them. He searched and grabbed at a low-lying branch instead. Grunting, he pulled himself to a stand but then swayed.
“Tabitha!” One of her brothers, Oscar by the sound of it, shouted from above.
“I’m here!” Teeth chattering, she longed to be warm.
Oscar had returned and stood on the fence, peering down at them. “Oh, she’s here! It’s fine—Henry’s with her!”
Edward ran up, out of breath. “Praise be!” His face, unnaturally white, pinched i
n a mass of worry lines.
Oscar gripped his shoulder. “Get it together, man.”
Tabitha choked on her emotion, “I fell down, you see…”
“Henry, get her up here! She needs to get warm!” Edward’s voice sounded gruff and full of worry.
“Can’t you see he’s wet as well?” Oscar uncoiled the rope he carried. “Here, have a hold of this.”
The group walked across the lawn, Edward with his arm firmly across Tabitha’s shoulder, rubbing her shoulders and arms, trying to get her a bit of warmth. She could barely move, her legs numb. And her head started to pound. But she couldn’t look away from Henry. He stared at her as though trying to puzzle through something. Every time he looked away, his gaze returned to her moments later.
As they neared the house, a maid came rushing out with warm blankets and ushered Tabitha inside.
Tabitha turned for one last look at Henry before the door shut. He stood wrapped in a blanket, long hair dripping into his face. His eyes had not left her, and they held a wondrous new intensity as they captured her own.
4
Blast His New Attraction
With water still pooled in his boots, Henry watched Tabitha walk away, a thick blanket wrapped around her and dragging at her feet. When she turned before entering the house, wide eyes peered over the top of the wool, trained on him until the door shut.
He should move, warm himself up, do something, but his feet would not respond. His whole body teamed up in a mad rebellion against function. Stopped, at his sudden realization that Tabitha, his dear playmate--for all he knew until now--the pesky younger sister to his best friends, was the loveliest woman he had ever seen.
His brain puzzled, how have I not noticed such a thing before?
He had felt things in the river. Deep protection and honest attraction for a woman he thought of yesterday, as a sister. At a complete loss, he mused. How could a man spend most of his life with a person and not know the simplest things about them? Like, for example, her eyes. They were so blue—brilliant, sparkling, sapphire blue! His favorite color for eyes.
His lips spread in a smile that hurt his cheeks.
They had the most intriguing conversation together. And the most fun besides.
She had the best family… His smile fell.
Her brothers.
A pit grew in his stomach, and he swallowed.
He could not continue thinking of Tabitha as a stunning woman. They would dust off their pistols if they heard his thoughts.
“What are you staring at the door for?” Oscar rested a hand on his shoulder. “Your brain addled?” He grinned, but Henry saw the spark of sincerity in his eyes.
These men were like brothers to him. He couldn’t be thinking of their sister as anything other than a sister. Was he not here at this party to protect her?
“No, my brain’s not addled, though I did rattle things when I smacked up against a rock.”
Oscar’s concerned expression deepened. “We could call the doctor.”
He shook his head and then winced in pain. “No, I will be fine. Though a hot bath would be just the thing.”
Oscar gestured to the maid.
She curtseyed. “I’ll let the kitchen know right away.”
Edward gripped his shoulder. “Thank you, man. Mother would have been devastated. All of us…” His words caught. Then he cleared his throat. Louder, he said, “Glad we were all there together.”
The others nodded.
Edward leaned closer, “Otherwise you’d be leg-shackled to our sister, and I, none too pleased about it.” His eyes held a protective glint Henry had never seen aimed in his direction before.
Hopefully most would assume the other brothers were present for her fall. He would feel dreadful if he had done anything to harm her reputation. Or hurt her in any way. Watching her go over the fence, for a few sickening seconds, he had thought her lost. Henry shuddered again, thinking of it.
He closed his eyes. The bleak darkness that filled him told him everything he needed to know about his feelings for Miss Tabitha Easton.
And he had seen the same desperation in her eyes and heard it in her voice when they were pressed against the rock.
“I don’t know what I would have done,” she’d said, before correcting herself.
Could she care for him? Or was he just like a brother in her eyes, like he had always assumed himself to be?
But what was he to do? Just the thought of telling Edward made him cringe. Perhaps his brain was truly addled, and when he awoke, Tabitha would go back to being his safe, friendly tabby cat, and the world would return to normal.
Later in the afternoon, after tea, Henry settled at his writing desk for some important correspondence. But he couldn’t focus and soon found himself wandering through statuary hall.
For the hundredth time, his mind drifted to Tabitha’s smile. Had his feelings for her altered so drastically?
Perhaps. He smiled as he pondered the possible outcome of an alliance with the Easton family. With Tabitha. Would not her brothers be relieved? He winced. Quite possibly not. They trusted him to be a chaperone, a guardian of sorts, not to entertain designs on their sister. Also—he winced again—they knew him too well. They were aware of his political dealings, his work for reform. It did not paint him in the best light among members of the stodgy, Tory ton. He placed a note for his Whig correspondent, carefully hidden, at the base of one of the statues.
“Henry?”
He jumped.
“Tabitha, ah, Miss Easton.” She wore green, and her blue eyes sparkled up at him. They were just the color of the flowers on the lane at home, he decided, and then felt ridiculous for the direction of his thoughts. Flowers? Get ahold of yourself. Be charming, Gallant. Make her laugh.
She widened her eyes.
He had not yet responded.
She tilted her head and opened her mouth to say something, just as he bowed and said, “How are you this afternoon?”
He felt a bumbling fool.
She wrinkled her eyes in question then curtseyed. “Just fine, and you?”
He could have smacked his own head. What did he mean, bowing to Tabitha? And here, where no one else was watching. They hadn’t bowed to each other since their governesses had required them to practice.
He cleared his throat. “I’m well. Just, um, exploring the hall.”
“Is there something interesting at the base of that statue?” She eyed him and tilted her head to the side. “I saw you studying it.”
He swallowed. “What? Oh um, no. Just wondered at the artist. But there’s no plaque.” He scanned the area for any sort of distraction. “But there! Have you seen the armory?” Then he leaned closer. “More fencing lessons perhaps? We could go out early in the morning when no one is about.”
Her eyes widened and she searched his face. “Yes!” Then she colored and looked at the floor. “I am overly excited. It’s just, nothing has seemed normal since arriving here. Everyone is behaving in such an untoward manner, and…”
Julian came running up, out of breath. “Oh! There you are. Good show, Henry. You’ve discovered her.”
She bristled and stepped back.
But Henry held up his hands. “I was here before you. Not following you around.”
“Edward wants a family meeting before the musicale tonight.”
Henry watched them leave, Tabitha looking back over her shoulder.
She was now a part of all his thoughts, his memories, even the very air he breathed. All of life seemed pointed to her. As enticing as Tabitha had become, he could not decide if the new feelings were welcome. They disturbed his peace—upset his heart rate even. Henry swallowed. Made it dashed difficult to think of anything besides Tabitha.
Welcome or not, he could not seem to control the direction of his thoughts.
After an agitated afternoon and an even more frustrating dinner, when he sat nowhere near Tabitha, he made his way to what Miss Greystock called the grand drawing room. I
n his wanderings about the house to clear his mind, he had stumbled upon the music room from earlier, where he and Edward had found Tabitha alone with a servant.
As a result, a disturbing thought jabbed at him. That nauseating, cozy scene at the piano bench—Tabitha and the footman, harmonizing and smiling. A distinct tightness ran up his middle and settled at the back of his throat. She had seemed affected by him, servant or no. Henry had changed the subject to save her embarrassment, but he saw it in the way she leaned, the tilt of her head, the lowering of her shoulders. Even though he knew his thoughts to be ridiculous, hot, fiery jealousy clamped onto him and twisted in an angry knot.
As he approached the door, the very focus of his intense burst of emotion stood at the entry with a haughty expression.
Henry blinked and looked closer. The man’s face had become blank, as most footmen appeared. Had he imagined his earlier look of contempt? He eyed him with suspicion, but the footman never looked in his direction.
He positioned himself near the door so he could enter the room with Tabitha when she arrived.
At long last the tops of two blonde heads ducked and bowed together, and he knew one to be Tabitha. The other was likely the pretty Anne Townshend. He smiled to himself. He had not seen a more likely pair to be friends.
When they approached, he bowed and reached for Tabitha’s hand. “Miss Easton. Miss Anne. You look lovely this evening.”
The color rose in Tabby’s cheeks. He hoped the embarrassment of their falling in the river did not concern her unduly.
Miss Anne smiled, “Hello, Lord Courteney.” She curtseyed. “Have you seen Mr. Easton? Tauney Easton?” She scanned the room and returned large, questioning eyes to Henry.
He grinned. “No I have not. But he promised to be here.”
The two ladies shared a smile.
He lifted his elbow to escort Tabitha, but, while she rested a hand on his arm, she didn’t meet his eyes. He placed a hand over her own, and the pink in her cheeks spread. A new awareness tingled through his palm and his arm where her delicate fingers rested. He wished never again to lose her attention. Henry led her to sit beside Miss Anne. He was pleased she sat close to him, her gentle pressure on his forearm remaining. Letting out a long breath of victory, he settled back in happy anticipation.
Tabitha's Folly Page 3