Yes, it was my fault no one knew I was close to being engaged to Mr. Richfield. And yes, I hadn’t accepted his proposal. Still, no one had the right to get involved with my relationships.
I plucked a tiny bud from a stem and stroked the soft, unopened petals with my fingertip. When had life become so complicated?
“You look like a young lady with the weight of the world on her shoulders.”
Startled, I lifted my head as I recognized the voice. “Mr. Richfield.”
Chapter Four
The flower bud fell from my fingers as I struggled to get to my feet. Richfield held out his hand to stop me. “There’s no need for you to get up, Miss Forester. In fact, I was about to ask if I could join you.”
For a moment, I didn’t know what to say, and I bit my lip. Sitting alone with him in a garden nook would set the gossips to talking if we were discovered. However, there was much that needed to be said without others around to overhear. “Certainly.” I gestured to the seat across from me. Clasping my hands in my lap, I dropped my gaze to the ground.
Now that he was in front of me, I had no idea how to begin the conversation we needed to have.
He took a seat, and we both were silent for several minutes. “I was surprised to hear you had arrived before me,” I finally said softly. “You must have left London immediately after my aunt’s dinner party.”
“There was nothing to keep me in London, and I felt it was important to seek the approval you deemed necessary during our last conversation.” He was silent for a second and then made a move to stand. “Perhaps I misunderstood. If my presence here is unwanted—.”
“No!” I lifted my head quickly and reached my hand out. Though I may not have been certain of my exact feelings, I did know I wanted the opportunity to discover what they were. I met his dark eyed gaze. “You are not unwanted here. I was merely unsure whether my thoughtless answer had given offense.”
“Thoughtless?” He raised his eyebrows as he spoke. “It was hardly that, Miss Forester, and I took no offense. I thought your answer was wise. It would be best if we took some time to get to know each other before we commit to an attachment that would last the rest of our lives. ”
“Exactly!” I blushed as he chuckled. “However, I cannot accept I spoke ‘wisely’ in London. You startled me, and I said the first thing that came to my mind.”
Mr. Richfield shook his head. “I cannot fault you for wanting your father’s approval before you accept an attachment,” he said with a smile. “As we are both in agreement now, what does it matter how it came about?”
He was right. All that mattered right then was he and I intended to become better acquainted. But how to accomplish that? “Are you enjoying your visit to Avonton, Mr. Richfield?” I asked, mentally cringing at the overly formal tone of my voice.
“Yes, I am, Miss Forester,” he answered, just as formally; only he somehow managed to sound amused at the same time. “I always admire the picturesque nature of the countryside here.”
That, at least, was a subject I could talk about without feeling flustered. “We’re proud of it, but we can’t take any credit for it,” I informed him. It occurred to me then it would undoubtedly be best if we took our conversation out of hiding and into the gardens where we could be seen. “Shall we take a turn about the garden?”
“It would be my pleasure, Miss Forester,” Richfield said, getting to his feet. He held his arm out to me. “I assume you visit the Sandwoods often.”
“Yes, several times a week,” I said as I put my hand on his arm. “Miss Sandwood and my sister are close companions. They are practically inseparable.”
“They remind me of my younger sisters, the way they giggle and whisper together.”
“I imagine many young ladies behave in such a manner.”
Mr. Richfield’s attention was on me as we went around a corner. “I’ve never seen you behave in such a way.”
I felt a blush burn my cheeks again. How to respond to that? “I suppose I’ve always been too busy with my nose in a book,” I said. A moment later, I sucked in my breath as I realized how he could take that. “Not that I’m a bluestocking or any such thing.”
“There’s no need to apologize. I enjoy a good book myself now and again.”
“Have you read anything of particular interest, lately?” I asked. I always enjoyed hearing of a new book to read.
“I confess I have not. But I imagine you have a favorite novel?”
My smile widened. “Sense and Sensibility is a particular favorite of mine,” I said with enthusiasm. “I was pleased to find a copy of the latest book by that author and look forward to reading it now I am home.”
“Diana!” I heard my sister’s voice call out from nearby.
I could have kicked something. Of course, when the conversation was becoming more interesting, my sister would interrupt. “I’m here, Sarah.”
A moment later, she came into view from the direction of the house. She paused for a brief moment when she saw who was with me. “Oh, I didn’t know you had company,” she said, reaching up to make sure her bonnet was on straight. “Mr. Richfield, it is a pleasure to see you again.”
“The pleasure is mine, Miss Sarah,” Richfield said, bowing slightly. “You require your sister?”
As if reminded of her errand, Sarah spun to face me. “Mother and Aunt Forester are ready to leave now, Diana. We have several other places to visit.”
Then I will escort you both back,” Richfield said, holding out his other arm. “Your sister and I were discussing hobbies, Miss Sarah.”
Looking pleased, Sarah accepted his arm. “Oh? And what are your hobbies, Mr. Richfield?” she asked.
“Like your sister, I enjoy reading a good book occasionally. I also hunt.”
“Every gentleman hunts!”
I glanced between them, feeling a knot of disappointment in my throat. But it was more than disappointment. It took a moment for me to figure it out, but when I felt the small knot become bigger as Richfield laughed at my sister’s response, I knew. I was jealous of Sarah!
Did I have reason to be? I didn’t think so, but her relaxed manner with Mr. Richfield was something I feared I could never hope to have.
Was I afraid I would lose my maybe-betrothed to my sister?
“Ridiculous.”
“What was that, Miss Forester?”
Swiftly, I glanced at my escort, embarrassed my softly spoken rumination had been heard. “I was thinking out loud, I’m sorry,” I said, hoping he would not remark on my unwitting statement.
It was a vain sentiment. “What exactly are you thinking is so ridiculous?”
“Hunting,” I said, thinking swiftly. A true enough sentiment, though not one I had dwelt on much beyond my distaste listening to hunting tales. “You chase a poor fox around or shoot beautiful birds. How can that be a pleasant way of spending time?”
“How is constantly sitting with a book in your hand a good way of passing the time on every occasion?” Sarah said, her tone sharp. She leaned forward enough to glare at me. “There are times we have meat on our table because someone hunts, Diana.”
I did not want to get into a debate with my sister. Not now. “Of course,” I said, remembering my social manners. “I should have kept my thoughts to myself. Forgive me. Please.”
“No. You’re right, Miss Forester,” Mr. Richfield said, surprising me. “Some hunting can be cruel. I hope, though, you don’t think I hunt merely for the sport of killing something.”
“What other reason can you have?”
He paused as we reached the edge of the garden. “The thrill of the chase.”
His smile made my cheeks heat up with a blush. I was relieved and slightly disappointed to see Mother and Aunt Forester were coming towards us. “Mr. Richfield,” Aunt Forester said, her eyes widening with surprise and delight. “What a pleasant surprise to see you here. How long have you been in Avonton?”
“I left London the day after your dinner party ma
’am,” Mr. Richfield said, making his slight bow yet again. “Mrs. Forester, it is a pleasure to see you again.”
“Which one are you speaking to?” Sarah asked with a laugh. “They are both Mrs. Forester, you know.”
Swiftly, Richfield glanced between Mother and Aunt Forester. “Both.”
“We are having a small family dinner party ourselves tomorrow evening, Mr. Richfield,” Mother said with a pleasant smile. “Does your schedule allow you to join us?”
“Certainly, ma’am. I can think of nothing that would bring me greater pleasure.”
Sarah clasped her hands in enthusiasm. “Wonderful. Diana brought me some new music for my harp, and I need someone to be my audience.”
“I look forward to hearing you and your sister perform together. Miss Forester can play the piano quite well, I know.”
“She ought to,” Sarah said before I could respond to his compliment. “You cannot know how many hours she spends on the pianoforte. I’m surprised she didn’t mention the pastime as her hobby.”
“A lady does not brag about her accomplishments, Sarah,” I said, containing a sigh. “And as Mr. Richfield has already heard me play, he has already deduced I enjoy it.”
Stepping away from our escort, Sarah regarded me with disbelief written on her face. “Good day, Mr. Richfield,” Mother said, putting an end to the conversation. “Girls. Come along.”
“Good day, Mrs. Forester. Mrs. Forester. Miss Forester. Miss Sarah,” Richfield said, looking torn between amazement there were so many Foresters and amused he had to name us all off as a matter of formality.
Smiling up at him briefly, I hurried to follow my mother. Sarah caught my arm and held me back, keeping us several feet back from Mother. “What was that about?” my sister asked, her voice just above a whisper. I merely shrugged in response. “It was almost like you were—flirting.”
I barely kept from sighing. “All girls know how to flirt, Sarah.”
She wrinkled her nose. “But you are my sister, and he happens to be someone I think likes me.” Sarah gave an exaggerated shudder. “Believe me when I say what I just saw is a sight I never want to have to observe again.”
Oh, lord. It was worse than I had feared. “Sarah.” I bit my lip, trying to think of the right words. How was I supposed to explain something like this? “Why would you think he likes you?”
“Why else would he stay in the area this long?” Sarah said with confidence. “And Charlotte agrees with me. She says Mr. Richfield has always just stopped for an overnight visit, which explains why we’ve never met him before. But he’s been here for several days now! There must be something that is keeping him here this time.”
“I’m surprised she didn’t think he was interested in her.” My mind raced to find the best way to break the truth to my sister. Every idea I could think of I could see having the same result: Sarah wouldn’t speak to me for a week. Maybe longer.
“She did at first, but then he had dinner with us and spent several hours with Papa in the study. Did you bump into Mr. Richfield in the garden just now?”
“You might say that.”
She hummed a note. “You haven’t had a proper introduction then! I will take care of that at the dinner party tomorrow.”
“Sarah, I met Mr. Richfield in London,” I said, annoyed she thought she had to do the proper thing for her older sister. “He and I are well acquainted. He just told you he heard me play in London.”
Sarah stopped smiling. “Oh. He did say that, didn’t he.”
“I met him at a musical soiree,” I said as fast as I could without stumbling over my words. Perhaps if I informed her of the whole situation, she wouldn’t be angry? “In fact,” I paused to take a deep breath. “At Aunt Forester’s last dinner party in London, Mr. Richfield asked me to marry him. In a way.”
I hadn’t meant to exaggerate, but I knew my sister. It would take something drastic, something blunt, dissuade her.
“He asked you to marry him?” Sarah repeated, looking shocked. Swiftly, though, anger filled her face. “Are you serious? And what do you mean ‘in a way’? Either he did, or he did not!”
“Why would I invent such a story?” I asked her, unwilling to go into the details of the situation and she held up her hand like she didn’t want to hear another word from me.
“Why did you wait until now to tell me something like this?”
“It’s not something that comes up in conversation. It was unexpected, and I wasn’t sure of my answer.”
My tone was more defensive than I cared for it to be. Grabbing my arm, Sarah jerked me to a stop. “Diana, are you or are you not engaged to Mr. Richfield?”
“I don’t know!”
“You don’t know.” Sarah echoed my words with a sharp laugh. “I should have known you would do this to me.”
I frowned at her. “What are you talking about?”
“I was prepared to accept you and Mr. Knighton, but now you’re interested in Mr. Richfield?”
At that moment, I honestly did not understand her. “Sarah, you’re not making sense. What do you mean?”
“I’m talking about you always pushing me from what I want!”
“How have I done that? Honestly, Sarah. Tell me what I have done to make you so angry.”
“Girls?” Looking concerned and slightly annoyed, Mother had faced us. “Is there a problem?”
“We’re fine, Mother. We will be visiting the Widow Davison now, are we not?” Sarah said. Before she moved to walk next to Mother, she hissed, “Phillip Knighton chose you, remember that, Diana?”
Chapter Five
I pushed the memory of the situation to the back my mind to deal with later and went through the motions of the following social calls. It was late at night as I prepared for bed when I thought it over, reliving what had happened the month before I went to London. Oh, how I did remember it. Even now, it still caused a tangle of emotions: embarrassment, regret, and shock.
I hadn’t seen it coming. Cliché, I know. But it was true. My life changed completely the day I went out for a walk on my own. True, it had been changed for the better, but it took some time for me to see it in that way. Maybe if someone else had gone with me, things would have been different. Perhaps so many people would not have been hurt.
Sarah had refused to accompany me that day because it was so cold. I hadn’t thought it an inconvenience at all since she had been an annoyance to us all day. Bundled up, I walked out, determined to enjoy the sun, however cold the air.
I was on my way back when I saw a horse and rider coming towards me. “Miss Forester!” Phillip Knighton, blond and tall, said, reining his mount to a halt next to me. “What are you doing out on a day like this?”
“Good day, Mr. Knighton. I am taking advantage of the sun while it is out.” I directed my smile up at the young man I had practically grown up with. “What about you?”
“The same. What is it they say about brilliant minds thinking alike?” He dismounted and offered me his right arm, holding his horse’s reins in his left. “Shall we walk together?”
“People will talk if they see,” I said teasingly, putting my gloved hand on his arm.
“Let them.”
His serious tone should have been my first warning, but I didn’t take any notice of it. Chatting as usual, we neared my home. “Thank you,” I said, dropping my hand from his arm. “Do you want to come in? The boys are all gone, but my father would be happy to see you. And Sarah has some new compositions she has been working on.”
“Not just yet,” he said, grabbing my hand. “Diana, I must speak to you.”
That was when I became nervous. “Let go of my hand please.” I tried to take a step back, glancing at the house in the hopes someone would see us and come to my rescue. If anything, though, he gripped my hand tighter. “We have already been speaking, Mr. Knighton. I must go inside now. The air has chilled me more than I expected it would.”
“I know this will seem a bit sudden, but I have
been giving it a great deal of thought. You and I rub along fairly well. I believe the best thing for us to do would be to get married.”
“What did you say?”
“I want you to be my wife, Diana,” Phillip said his tone earnest. “We can make our home here, and nothing would have to change.”
Dumbfounded, I stared at him. My older brother’s best friend asking me to marry him? “Is this a jest?” That had to be it. He and my brothers so loved to play tricks. Any moment, my brothers would be jumping out of the bushes, laughing their heads off. It was the only sane explanation.
Phillip shook his head, shattering my hope. “I have never been more serious in my life, Diana. We are friends, aren’t we?”
“Yes, of course, we are. Friends.” I pulled my hand free. “You are like my brother, you know. I cannot marry you.”
“You can’t?”
I have never seen a look like the one Phillip wore on a person’s face, not before or since that day. It was a mix of disbelief and heartbreak, emotions I have seen before. But it was the expression with it, one all too similar to what would usually follow when he and James were too rowdy, and one of them ended up getting punched in the stomach.
“No,” I said, using as firm a tone as I could muster.
Seeing that look broke my heart. Phillip stared at me for a moment and then closed his eyes. When he opened them, the look was gone, and he spun on his heel. “Mr. Knighton?” I asked uneasily. He pulled himself up onto his horse and surveyed me expectantly. What could I say? “I—I’m sorry. Please don’t be angry.”
For a moment, I thought he would say something, but he only rode away. My arms wrapped around my waist, I watched him go, and then, once he was out of sight, I ran to the door I had to tell Mother about what had occurred.
A Chaotic Courtship Page 4