“It was well told,” Kenneth said with a tilted smile. Then he shifted in the saddle, half twisting in Xavier’s direction. “But, I say, I have been wondering, I don’t think I’ve ever heard how you really lost that eye—”
“It was an accident,” Xavier stated flatly.
“Yes, of course. But—” Kenneth hesitated, then charged on. “But…what manner of accident?”
“A painful one.”
“Quite. But, Warfield, what happened?”
Xavier sighed, and lowered his chin to his chest. A few beats later, he lifted his head and gave it a quick, clearing shake, and took one hand from the reins to emphasize various points as he spoke. “My parents were hosting a party. I was only seven, as you may recall, and therefore most unwelcome at the event. I sneaked down from the nursery on the darkened stairs and hid in the shadows, watching the dancing and the partygoers from behind the rails. A military man, a sergeant I believe, was asked to demonstrate his prowess with his sword, and I’m afraid he made a thrust directly at me. I must say, he was most upset, and he did apologize quite prettily.”
Kenneth blinked, first stricken, then confused, until suddenly he cried, “You’re gammoning me.”
“Am I?”
“You are.”
“Could be.”
Kenneth stared at him a moment longer, but Xavier only stared back benignly, until Kenneth’s loose hands on the reins caused his horse to fall behind.
“Now I really wish to know. I can’t believe I don’t know,” Kenneth muttered, perhaps loud enough to be heard by the forward rider.
As the sun sat low on the horizon, Haddy called out that Banbury was just ahead, and they’d be finding rooms for the night there, to everyone’s relief.
* * *
The first inn they came to had no rooms for the night, but the innkeeper recommended his sister inn, which was only a mile further. “Not the first ye see, but the second, t’one with far newer chimneys.” They found the place after only twenty minutes, although Kenneth announced he couldn’t see the chimneys looked any the better than those of the inn they’d bypassed, and grumbled that he thought the rest of it showed signs of better days.
“No grates will be lit today, so we needn’t fear smoking chimneys, anyway,” Laura insisted, speaking rather loudly and firmly out the carriage window, letting the gentlemen know their sisters were beyond weary with traveling today.
Haddy bartered with the innkeeper, but a mutually satisfactory cost was settled upon quickly enough, and the man agreed to supply three bottles of wine with the group’s supper.
Genevieve followed Laura’s eyes, which noted that her brother had pulled forth his purse. As Kenneth evaluated the funds remaining to him and pursed his mouth, Laura frowned in sympathy.
Genevieve turned her eyes away and pretended not to have seen the man’s clear concern. Dear Kenneth. It wasn’t his fault he’d too little monies to match his friends, not with Sir Roger ever controlling his purse strings so tightly. As to that, what had Sir Roger made of his childrens’ sudden journey toward Brockmore? Kenneth seemed forever on the verge of being cut off entirely, and it was easy to believe a pleasure trip such as this would not sit well with such a parent—especially if permission hadn’t even been sought. Genevieve bit her lip, and hoped for both sister and brother’s sake that this little pleasure trip wouldn’t widen the gap between father and son.
Genevieve’s concern shifted to amusement, however, when she saw Michael descend from the second carriage. All of his clothing was coated with dust, and his face was streaked with dirt and perspiration.
“I shan’t be second man tomorrow,” he declared. He gave Haddy a quick glare. “‘No grooms,’ he says. Well then, he can be the one to chew the road dust.”
“You’d not have to eat so much earth if you didn’t drive so close on my wheels,” Haddy pointed out.
“I wouldn’t drive close on your wheels if you ever let out your strings. Devil take it, man, we’ve had nothing but fine roads! You ought put them to use.”
Haddy replied, “We’re not on a short London jaunt here, Yardley. We’re covering distance. Got to spare the horses.”
The debate might have gone on, except the ostlers moved to take care of the horses and the carriages. The ladies took advantage of the pause in the debate to declare they wished to sit down to a meal as soon as they’d had the chance to freshen up.
“No one requires a freshening more than myself,” Michael said as he futilely tried to brush some of the dust from his sleeves.
“Trays in our rooms?” Laura suggested.
“No, we’ve hired a sitting room. Let us eat as a group. Then Kenneth can produce another of his Little Riddles for our edification,” Michael said, still dusting his coat with little apparent result. “It has been a dull day—”
“Oh, surely not while we were finding the card among the apple trees,” Genevieve protested.
“Granted,” Michael said, though his tone implied he’d his own opinion as to the matter. “As I was saying, I see no reason to sit alone in our rooms when we can enjoy an evening together. Whist, too, perhaps?”
Everyone agreed. Even Xavier nodded, as he considered ways of making sure he sat beside anyone other than Lady Genevieve.
Chapter 7
Alas, all the castles I have, are built with air, thou know’st.
—Ben Jonson,
Eastward Ho
“No!” Haddy winced, putting one hand to his forehead in disgust. “Whyever would you play that card? Ought to have played that one,” he said, pointing at Michael’s hand.
“You may now stop looking over my shoulder,” Michael said dryly, turning so his cards were out of Haddy’s view. “You play whist far more poorly than I do. If you doubt this, you have only to look to the fact you’re no longer playing, and I am. Your advice is not only unwanted but incorrect.” Four of the party of eight were already done with their play.
“I ran out of coinage, that’s why I’m no longer playing,” Haddy replied.
“And could not conspire to find more? I think not. I think you’d grown tired of losing your blunt.”
Haddy gave in with a grin. “It’s more fun to watch you squirm than to play myself.”
“I never squirm.” Michael hesitated, then inclined his head. “Although I must admit Genevieve was fleecing me royally for a while there. You’ll note I have recovered nicely. In fact, I believe I may beat her on points at the end of this hand. Summer, I do hope you are paying attention to the play,” he warned his partner.
“I’m trying,” she replied with a little frown of concentration. She selected a card and played it on top of the others before her on the table.
Michael made a disappointed noise and gave her a level look, even as the non-players gave forth groans and murmurs that proved the card played had been an unfortunate choice. “Really, Summer,” Michael scolded. “You obviously didn’t think that through.”
“You know I have no card sense,” she said, biting her lower lip as she lowered her eyes to the tabletop.
“Truth,” Michael grumbled. The group went silent, and Michael looked up to catch the dark look with which his sister skewed him. His eyes darted around as he seemed to review the last minute, and he sat up straighter. “Er. That is, makes no never mind. Just for sport,” he amended as the last round of cards played out.
Summer’s eyes came up, plainly relieved by the brevity of his censure.
Michael cast her a quick smile, and leaned back in his chair to pull his purse from his pocket, and the gentle hubbub of conversation resumed.
Haddy fished in his own pocket, then leaned forward, paying his sister’s debt for her. He exchanged bank notes for coins, his lips silently moving even as he proved Michael’s point that he could have made change had he cared to bother.
Genevieve scooped up the pile made up only of coins, measuring their weight. “Whist was an excellent idea,” she pronounced.
“I quite agree,” said her partner, Kenneth, po
cketing the remaining stack with its pound note held under some small coins. Genevieve grinned at him, pleased his purse had been supplemented.
“How transported with joy I am to have entertained you,” Michael said, his sour tone probably more pretense than reality.
“Are we for bed then?” Laura asked, standing and stretching, careless of the inelegance of it.
“It’s early yet,” Michael protested. “Does anyone care for another game of chance?”
“Let us have one of Kenneth’s Little Riddles,” Xavier said, leaning back in the settee he’d drawn near the table.
Genevieve tilted her chin toward Xavier, surprised he’d chosen to promote the riddles. He’d not wanted to earn the kiss he’d given her yesterday… Her eyes slid to Summer, who was smilingly endorsing Xavier’s idea, then back to Xavier, who smiled in return. There was no denying he looked well, dressed all in evening black, down to his waistcoat, only his white cravat interrupting the severe but refined look. Did Summer also find his apparel well chosen? Certainly the girl had no care about his eye patch, as familiar with it as all of them—a simple fact that surely added to any attraction he might be feeling toward the beauty…
Kenneth read, “In the fifteenth century, fourteen of these were sent to the Duke of Bedford while he was in France. What were sent?”
“Wives?” Laura asked.
“We speak of the Duke of Bedford, Laura, not some Turkish agha or such.” Kenneth laughed.
“Well, you never know. Perhaps some agha or sheik sent them to the Duke of Bedford.”
“No,” he said firmly.
“What could it be?” Summer asked, her forefinger touching her chin. “Cats, perhaps? Some people are so very fond of their cats. No, better yet, his dogs.”
“Oh, I see,” Haddy said, face brightening. “Whatever was sent, it wasn’t necessarily a gift to him? But rather something the duke ordered brought to him?”
“Yes, the latter,” Kenneth said to Haddy, and to Summer, “I can see an Englishman wanting his hounds with him, but no, it was not his dogs.”
“Horses?”
“Sons?”
“Carriages?” The guesses came from around the room, at each of which Kenneth shook his head.
“Think, gentlepeople. Where are we?”
“Oxfordshire.”
Kenneth rolled his eyes.
“Banbury!” Michael and Summer cried together, and she laughed.
Genevieve found herself smiling at the two, perhaps a bit too widely, silently urging such spontaneous moments to make the pair’s bond grow deeper. She sneaked a look at Xavier, yet gazing upon Summer with a small smile playing about his mouth, and narrowed her eyes over her own strained smile.
Kenneth exaggerated a nod, his hand making a rolling motion to encourage them onward in their thinking. “What is Banbury famous for?” he asked.
“Cakes, of course,” Xavier said.
Stop trying to win, Genevieve thought at him with a sniff.
“One of my favorites,” Laura crooned. “So then, is that the answer, Kenneth? Did the duke receive fourteen Banbury cakes?”
“No, but you’re right to be thinking of food.”
“Cheeses!” Summer declared with a sudden hiccup of inspiration. “It has to be cheeses. We had some Banbury cheese with our fruit just this past meal.”
“Yes. Just so,” Kenneth declared with an affirming nod in her direction. “I cannot tell you why, but one has to suppose the duke missed our good old English cheese and sent for it to be brought all the way to France.”
“Well done,” Michael said to Summer, making up for his earlier gruffness with one of his rather dazzling smiles.
She flushed, and Genevieve thought how pretty she looked under the effect. Perhaps Michael thought so, too, for he lowered his mouth to hers, quickly taking the kiss she’d earned by solving the Little Riddle, and she made no move at all to protest that perhaps he was not the one she’d wished to bestow the honor upon.
Michael raised his head, grinned, and turned to Haddy. “Have you that piccolo of yours with you?”
“I have,” Haddy said, patting his coat pocket.
“Then play us a tune if you will, for I’ve a mind to dance with my lady.”
“Happy to,” Haddy told Michael, pulling the piccolo from his inside pocket.
Genevieve sneaked another glance at Xavier, whose smile was slowly fading. Oddly, she felt guilty. I don’t wish him ill, or want to dictate where his affections may lie… But I don’t want him to take Summer from Michael either, she thought rather mutinously. She put a hand to her brow, where she felt the beginnings of a megrim.
Haddy blew a few discordant notes on his piccolo, then broke into a simple jig tune, proving again to his friends that he wasn’t always the least lighthearted among them.
Summer accepted Michael’s hand, her face remaining flushed as she gave him a wide smile, and he pulled her into a lively dance to match the tune.
Laura turned to Xavier. “You haven’t asked me if I would care to join you in a set,” she said in a mock scold.
Xavier was clearly taken by surprise, but he unfolded from the settee with an instant grace. “Would you care to join me in a set?” he asked, already extending his hand to her.
“Why, it would be my pleasure,” Laura said, smiling.
Now there could be an acceptable connection, Genevieve thought—sure her headache was why her mouth didn’t shape again into a smile.
Xavier took both Laura’s hands and they joined Michael and Summer in the center of the room.
Haddy broke off playing just long enough to say in his practical fashion, “Better move the furniture,” and began the same tune again, only now a little faster. Summer gave a cry that was mostly a laugh, and lifted her feet, striving to match Michael’s enthusiastic response. Normally Genevieve might have called to her brother to be sure not to overexert the less than robust Summer, but where the affianced pair were enjoying themselves so obviously, Genevieve chose to leave any cautions to Summer’s discretion.
Instead she moved to help Kenneth by moving or holding the various lighted lamps and bibelots while he pushed the selected pieces of furniture against the walls. Satisfied they’d done what they could to make room, Genevieve stood back and clapped her hands to the music, Kenneth was at her elbow, but even with her own preoccupation, Genevieve couldn’t miss how his eyes strayed to Penelope, who was watching the dancers with a steadfast gaze, her posture rather rigid.
Two heartbeats passed before Kenneth took a breath and turned to Genevieve. “May I have this dance?”
It was Genevieve’s turn to pause. Once she’d thought Kenneth and Penelope were developing a tendre for one another—but for the past several months relations had been sometimes noticeably strained between the two. Good gracious, I am seeing romance—either failing or fledgling—everywhere of late, she scolded herself. She’d rather thought the two had come to some kind of accord, some mutual understanding to disregard any stirring of attraction—but Kenneth’s lingering gaze restored a shred of doubt in her mind.
If the two shared a dance, would it help or hinder whatever the situation was between them? Well, there was surely one way to find out: let it happen.
“Oh, thank you, but no, Kenneth,” she said, smiling an apology as she shook her head. “Too quick a step for me.”
“Oh?” he said, obviously surprised by her refusal.
“Yes. But perhaps Penelope…”
She didn’t need to drop any other hints, for already his head had pivoted away, his eyes settling again on Penelope. Genevieve watched as he put back his shoulders and crossed to the other lady’s side. Genevieve offered up a quick little hope she’d not tampered with something better left alone.
Rather to her surprise, the stoic-faced Penelope accepted the offer, and joined Kenneth with the other dancers. They didn’t smile, and they didn’t step in so high and lively a fashion as the two other couples, and Penelope seemed to have very little to
say—but she’d accepted when it would have been easy to beg off. Curious.
Haddy ended the tune, took a deep swig of the nearest ale, and cried, “Change partners.” He began to play again, this time a country tune.
Michael escorted the rather flush-faced Summer to the settee, made her a bow and excused himself, leaving her to rest for the space of the next dance as her delicate nature required, Genevieve was pleased to note. He turned to the nearest couple. “Surrender your partner,” he said to Kenneth, stepping up and removing Penelope’s hand from that fellow’s grasp.
“Kenneth, you’re with me now,” Laura joined in the spirit of exchange, taking up her brother’s hands with a sigh and moving from Xavier’s side into a new dance.
That left both Xavier and Genevieve without a partner. A long, awkward pause ensued, but then he turned to her, perhaps rather stiffly. His voice was normal, however. “Might I have the pleasure?”
She hesitated, remembering she’d just turned down Kenneth. Summer must rest, so could not partner Xavier…nor did Genevieve wish to partner those two. And she could hardly continue her fledgling matchmaking by asking Penelope to take her place in a second dance with Xavier, especially when that lady was so newly claimed by Michael. “I…,” she began, unsure what she was going to say.
“Come along then, you two,” Michael cried at them as he danced by.
“Yes, of course. Of course,” Genevieve breathed, and her hand was caught up, and they joined the others.
She stared for a solid ten seconds at their hands where they touched, pretending to concentrate on the dance, but then she raised her eyes, ducking her head for a moment more when she found Xavier looking down at her.
“So. We are off to Coventry tomorrow,” he said, no doubt just to make conversation.
“We were lucky to have guessed that correctly,” she said, adding unnecessarily, “Michael and I.”
“Yes.”
“Michael is usually very clever about riddles and puzzles and such.”
“Yes, I find him so, too.”
For a moment she couldn’t think what more to say. They’d never behaved as though they were bosom beaux, but she couldn’t remember a time when it’d been awkward like this between them. Did Xavier think he’d revealed a growing affection toward Summer? Was this why he was now so uncomfortable in the company of Michael’s sister?
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