The only thing Genevieve knew for sure was that it was not indifference.
She only hoped no one would be hurt in the explosion of emotions that seemed to wait just beneath the surface of what was, now quite clearly, practiced cordiality on both their parts.
Chapter 14
It is one thing to show a man that he is in an error,
and another to put him in possession of truth.
—John Locke,
An Essay Concerning Human Understanding
“Drat. Yes, you’re correct, Michael, they’re burning the fields,” Haddy agreed several hours later. He swung down from the coach box, pointing the way with one solid arm. “Both sides of the road. We’ll have to wait until it’s passable, and even then we’ll have to drive easy lest the smell of smoke spook the horses.”
“How long do you think?” Michael asked from atop the first carriage, squinting into the sun to see the thick, dark plumes of smoke on the horizon before them. They’d both guided the horses off to one side of the road. Xavier sat beside him.
Haddy shrugged. “An hour? Maybe two?”
“Surely not so long as that?”
“The fire’s a large one. We daren’t risk a dash along the road, not with two teams to handle. The wind is in the right direction, but better to wait until the fire’s been quite beaten back. The good news is, we can rest the horses for a spell, and then they’ll be good for a few more hours today, perhaps all the way to Lichfield.”
“Hmmm, a two-hour wait? That puts us in Lichfield no sooner than six.” Michael had consented to drive again, but also insisted on driving the ladies’ coach, ahead of the luggage one Haddy had consented to drive.
“If we must wait, we must. If it grows too late, we’ll find some inn on the way,” Kenneth called from his saddle horse.
Michael passed the ribbons to Xavier. “Hold the cattle as I unharness.”
“If we’d known, we could have waited to have our luncheon now, instead of stopping in Coleshill,” Xavier replied as he pulled tight the reins in his hands.
“But it was refreshing to take a hot luncheon, you must allow,” Kenneth answered, dismounted and moving to open the carriage door. “If you’d be so good as to step down, ladies? We’re halted in our forward progress by a field fire.”
“Oh dear, is it dangerous?” Penelope cried.
“Not at all. We simply must wait for the flames to work away from the roads. For now, we rest, or at least as best we can, given that the scent may disturb us some.”
“Anyone for whist?” Haddy called from where he was securing his carriage horses’ leading reins around a sturdy branch. “I purchased some playing cards from our host last evening.” He moved to help with unharnessing the team from Michael’s carriage.
The women demurred with a round of no, thank yous.
“No meal, no cards—what else is there to do?” Haddy complained as the right front leader blew air at him. He stroked the soft head and neck. “You’d play cards with me, wouldn’t you? Sure you would, you handsome fellow,” he cooed to the animal.
“So it’s come down to talking to animals, has it?” Michael said with a critical lift of his eyebrows.
“Better than some recent company I’ve had,” Haddy replied without a pause. He turned back to the horse, which had tossed its head. “I know. I smell that nasty fire, too,” he soothed.
“Now, gentlemen, we mustn’t be at daggers drawn,” Laura scolded as she climbed down from the carriage, followed by the other ladies. Today all the women had decided to dress in white gowns, but of course Summer looked the daintiest and fairest of them, Genevieve noted without any real sting in her thoughts. She did wish, though, that her friend would stop appearing to such advantage before Xavier.
“Hardly daggers. More like needles,” Michael said.
“Not even needles. Pins,” Haddy agreed.
“They do it for sport,” Genevieve explained with a sigh to no one in particular. “Very little sport.”
“Now, there’s a thought. Let us have a bit of sport, as in the age-old pursuit of game. We are but hours from our suppers, so let us add to our host’s—whoever he shall be—bounty. This seems to me an open field, upon which we wouldn’t infringe unnecessarily.”
“Would that not be poaching?”
“My dear Genevieve, not if we are not caught at it.”
“Hadrian Aubrey Dillonsby,” Summer exclaimed. “What would Papa have said to engaging in uninvited hunting?”
“He would say ‘shoot true and make a hasty departure.’”
“Haddy! He’d have said no such thing.”
“Any man who would name his daughter after a flower, and his son and heir after a wall, most certainly would.”
“You were named after the emperor, not the wall.”
“And the dogs are named Joe and Jane. Fine, ordinary English names—for the dogs.” Haddy looked to Xavier, who had looped the reins to one side and jumped down from the coach box. At Haddy’s raised brows, Xavier shook his head.
Haddy pouted, but gave in. “Yes, yes. No hunting. It would be poaching—which of course won’t serve. But there’s a dead tree over,” he pointed, and it took Genevieve a long moment to see the gray, leafless tree in the distance, “and I’ve a mind to take some target practice upon it.”
Haddy and Kenneth led the last of the horses under a tree, attaching their leads with enough length that the animals might graze. That settled, they turned back to the carriages, finding their various long guns and ammunition.
“Who’s with me?” Haddy called as he loaded his weapon.
“I am,” Michael and Xavier replied unnecessarily, their weapons already in their hands.
“Not me, I think, lads. I’ll mind that the horses don’t get spooked, and I’ll stand guardian to the ladies,” Kenneth said.
“You needn’t,” Laura told him. “Now we know Summer is quite prepared to defend us.”
“Summer?” Kenneth had been told how Summer had carried Xavier’s pistol in the night, but his voice sounded incredulous now anyway. “Come, Summer, admit you couldn’t truly fire upon a flea, let alone a man.”
She thought for a long beat, then shook her head. “But I could, Kenneth,” she replied, her eyes serious.
“I shan’t believe it.”
Michael stepped next to Genevieve and said in a stage whisper, “There’s more to Summer than meets the eye.”
Genevieve watched him move away, and wondered if he truly understood or appreciated that fact.
Haddy led the men into the grassy field, again pointing out their unmoving target.
Kenneth indicated the shade of a tree not far removed from the horses, and the ladies sat upon the grass, which was dry so that none of them felt the need to fetch a cloth from the carriage.
“Perhaps we should begin tearing our petticoats to make bandages,” Laura suggested.
“Unkind,” Kenneth scolded, half laughing as he stretched out on his side in the grass opposite Penelope. “They might be struck by a falling branch, but they’re unlikely to shoot one another, my girl.”
“You require no target practice?” his sister asked, untying her bonnet strings and running her fingers through the light brown fringe that had stuck to her forehead in the warmth of the day.
He doffed his own hat and rested it on his hip, and lazily shook his head. “I’ve no desire to traipse in the sun.”
A butterfly floated by, and though she couldn’t see it, Genevieve heard the trickle of some nearby brook, no doubt among the trees. It was a pleasant enough spot, if tainted by the occasional whiff of smoke. But Laura echoed Genevieve’s feelings when that lady sighed, a bored sound.
“What are we to do while we wait?” Laura complained. “Perhaps I should have persuaded Haddy to leave his playing cards after all.”
“Hmm. We’ll probably play tonight,” Kenneth demurred.
Everyone again fell quiet for several minutes, in the manner of people deplete of small talk. Gene
vieve pondered the idea of a nap to pass the time in the shade.
Of a sudden Kenneth rose to his feet, putting out his hand directly before Penelope, who looked up, startled. “Come,” he said, “why don’t we go for a stroll?”
Penelope glanced around at the other ladies, her lips pressing into a thin line.
“I thought you didn’t care to traipse in the sun—” Laura began.
He interrupted, ignoring her. “Just a little stroll?” he spoke just to Penelope.
“I’ll go—” Laura began to rise.
Kenneth spun to her. “I didn’t ask you. I’m asking Penelope.”
Laura sank back to the ground, mute and offended.
Penelope shook her head, a small, quick shake.
“Penelope,” he said, his voice now dropped low, “surely you can spend a few minutes with me? To talk? Alone.”
Penelope glanced from under her lashes at Genevieve, who suddenly found herself nodding at the woman. Whatever was wrong between the two of them, perhaps Kenneth was right to want to talk it through and perhaps settle it, once and for all. Genevieve nodded at her friend again.
Penelope’s head bowed in surrender. She offered her hand to Kenneth, and was assisted to her feet. He didn’t release her hand, instead pinning it to his sleeve with his own, larger hand.
“We’ll be back within the hour,” he said to no one in particular, and led Penelope away, in the opposite direction the “hunters” had taken.
“Well, I never!” Laura said to his retreating back.
“Don’t refine upon it, Laura,” Genevieve told her.
“Yes, don’t,” Summer spoke. “He didn’t mean to be insulting.” She exchanged knowing glances with Genevieve. “He just needed to speak with Penelope alone for awhile, and there was no subtle way to achieve that.”
“That’s all very well. My dears, I’ve seen what you’ve seen. Clearly they’ve some manner of unfinished business to attend to—but Kenneth really needn’t have spoken in such a manner to me.” She fanned herself in agitation with her bonnet. “And we must also consider that it’s improper to let her be alone with him. And we’ve not just allowed it, but encouraged it,” Laura persisted. “We’re supposed to be chaperoning one another.”
“I hardly think one thing is more improper than the next,” Summer said.
“What do you mean?” Laura’s eyes narrowed.
“I mean, is not running in the High Street just as terrible, if not more so because so many people saw it, than taking a stroll in the country with a longtime friend?”
Genevieve raised a hand to her mouth, as though to stifle a cough, but really to hide her smile.
“Summer Rose Dillonsby, I wasn’t the only one to run through the High Street.”
“No, of course not,” Genevieve soothed. “But is that not just the point? At this time, our usual conventions are meaningless, at least until we reach Brockmore. We can don propriety once more then. In the meanwhile, Kenneth and Penelope will be the better for having talked, I feel sure, and that’s all that matters to us now.”
The ladies fell silent, until Summer proposed they braid some of the taller grasses around them into garlands, a task that busied their fingers if not their minds. Summer coughed a few times, making them all aware of the gusts of acrid air that blew over them when the wind shifted, adding to the discomfort of the overly warm day.
A shot rang out, followed by a second, making the ladies jump. Dozens followed, accompanied by the occasional whoop.
Kenneth and Penelope hadn’t returned by the time the huntsmen reappeared. Michael walked with his long gun laid across one arm, a branch in his other hand, which he used in an exaggerated swain’s strut, showing off his “prize.”
“Had we been after game, we’d have cleared this entire field of prey,” he assured them with a flourish of the piece of wood.
Laura leaned over, bumping shoulders with Summer. “Now you may marry Michael, my dear, as he’s proven although he cannot put meat on the table, he can supply wood with which to cook it.”
“Hmph,” Michael dismissed her opinion with the single sound. “Only look.” He hefted the stout twig, eyeing it. “I’m inclined toward carving this as a walking cane for myself. It’s sturdy and it’s straight. A man can’t have too many canes.”
“My mighty hunter,” Summer said, smiling.
Michael handed his long gun, equipment, stick, and hat to Xavier. “Would you be so good, Warfield?” The words were hardly out before he stretched out on the ground, laying his head in Summer’s lap. Her hands went at once to his hair, running her fingers through the damp sandy-brown hair at his temples.
“I’ll walk down the road a bit, see if we might pass soon,” Haddy said, and Xavier gave in to his role as collector, gathering Haddy’s accoutrements as well.
When Xavier returned from stashing the firearms, he put his hands on his hips and glanced around. Genevieve observed his grace of movement, the way he cocked his head the better to see, how the light breeze caught the edges of his coat and his hair—and a part of her was pleased that at this moment he didn’t look to Summer.
“Where are Kenneth and Penelope?” he asked.
“They’ve taken a stroll,” Laura answered, doing a poor job of stifling a yawn.
He glanced around again at the gently rolling hills and the clusters of trees toward the horizon, and reached up to rub his jaw. “Which direction?”
With nods of their heads, Laura and Summer pointed the way the two had gone.
“I suppose we ought to see if we can locate them, as I expect Haddy to come back with favorable news. That rise there is a likely place to begin,” Xavier said, volunteering himself to go and look.
“I’ll go with you,” Genevieve declared suddenly, rising to her feet before anyone—meaning Summer—could. Although, to be fair, she seems most content to have my brother’s head in her lap.
“Hmmm,” Laura said dampeningly at her side, causing Genevieve to glance down at her.
“Really, Laura, you do have a difficulty with being informal,” she sniffed, moving at once to take Xavier’s arm.
They didn’t walk particularly briskly, in part because Genevieve put a bit of effort into imitating Summer’s sedate and lady-like stroll.
“If they went this way, at least Manning didn’t drag my sister toward the fires. How long have they been gone?” Xavier asked at her side.
“About an hour. Kenneth said they would be returned by now, but I suppose one loses track of time in the country.” They fell silent for a moment. “Did you enjoy the shooting?” Genevieve tried to extend the conversation.
“Oh, yes. It’s a boast to say it, but I’ve learned how to compensate.” He lightly tapped his eye patch. “You squint to use only one eye anyway, you understand, and then it’s just adjusting for depth.” For once, he not only didn’t stiffen at mention of his injury, but seemed a bit off-hand over it.
“It doesn’t stop you from doing much though, does it?” she encouraged him.
“No,” he answered. He paused, but chose to add, “There are only a few things that are beyond me. I mostly avoid Town driving. Some dances. That manner of thing.” Some of his usual reserve had come creeping back into his voice.
“Do you think we’ll travel on to Lichfield tonight?” she asked.
She felt the arm under her hand relax; he hadn’t liked the direction of their exchange and was glad she’d changed it. His eye! Wasn’t it curious that none of them truly knew how he’d taken the injury to it? Genevieve didn’t remember him without the patch. Curious, too, how it loomed so little in her viewpoint, yet so large in his. She wished she could point out how many men were even more grievously wounded—like Horatio Nelson, with his blinded right eye and war-taken arm—but his closest friends knew Xavier would tolerate no comparisons to the sacrifices of military men, or those who’d lost a part of themselves through service or hard labor. He’d been too young for the injury to have come during a duel of honor…
/> There was no point in pondering its origin, though, because Xavier had long since made it clear he kept his own counsel in the matter. And now, when Genevieve wanted Summer and Michael’s bond to stay strong, was not the time to give Xavier a distaste for her own company.
They reached the top of the hillock. Genevieve made a pleased sound at the sight that spread around them. Straight ahead, a large field slanted away, covered with a fuzzy green carpet of grain. The burning of the adjacent fields had left an uneven veil of smoke hanging in the air through which sunbeams poked, striving to reach the ground. It created a crazy quilt of light and shade, making the new crops glow bright green, in contrast with the gray-green areas where the sun’s rays didn’t strike. Leafy birches stood in a long row that bordered the right side of the field, sentinels against the wind that surely blew here some seasons, now like silent guardians awaiting the time of their duty.
“Beautiful,” she breathed, her face aglow as she stood washed in one of the afternoon’s sunbeams. Her lips were parted in appreciation of the sight before her, and she leaned forward as though to soak in the sights before her.
Xavier responded, his voice equally a sigh, “Yes, beautiful.”
She turned to him, pulled by the tenor of his voice, and thrilled to find his eyes were upon her, so soon after murmuring those words. Why do I fret about Summer? Oh, surely I don’t completely misunderstand the way he looks at me?
“I’m so glad we came on this journey,” she said in a rush.
Just as she saw him nod and one of his hands began to rise toward her, there came a call of “Halloo!”
They turned, almost guiltily, as one.
“There they are,” she cried, raising her arm and waving with unnecessary enthusiasm at Kenneth and Penelope, who had just emerged from between two of the birches.
Penelope’s hand was on Kenneth’s arm and she walked close to his side, so perhaps their stroll had done its task and a new harmony had been achieved there.
* * *
Xavier used the moments of the approaching pair’s return to stand still and silent, carefully tucking all his responses behind a calm façade.
A Heart's Treasure Page 16