Haddy didn’t hesitate. “Terribly, I’m afraid.”
“See?” Michael beamed.
Genevieve sneaked a glance at Xavier, finding he looked on with a scowl to match her own.
A slow throb began in her chest, one that told her clearly if Xavier had been noble and let the lady go to her love…the noble act had been set aside by this latest turn of events. Summer had just become untethered, free, accessible.
“But at heart a very loving creature,” Haddy went on, eyes darting from one to the other, no doubt trying to understand why his sister had run into the inn crying. “She always said she would have a love match or none at all.”
“Quite.”
Kenneth and Penelope had come from the inn, looking, by their hesitant steps and mouths poised to ask questions, as though they’d had some manner of explanation from Summer.
“But am I to understand there’s been a tiff between you two?” Haddy asked.
“She’s released him from their betrothal,” Xavier said, his arms crossed and a hand to his chin.
“She what?” Haddy said, looking like someone had struck him between the eyes with a cudgel. Penelope and Kenneth’s questions stayed behind their lips, and their eyes widened.
“She’s freed herself of me,” Michael said.
“You’re terrible,” his sister rebuked him. “This was no way to handle a parting, you idiot.”
Haddy was turning a trifle red. “You did all this in public? Yardley, have you embarrassed not just yourself but Summer? Has the Dillonsby name has been besmirched?”
“Oh, I suppose,” Michael agreed, waving a hand in the air. “Honor must be met, and all that. But as dueling is illegal—” Haddy grunted acknowledgment of that fact “—I think perhaps I have a better thought.”
Haddy’s brows had lowered dangerously, but he replied, “Which is?”
“I will marry the girl after all.”
Xavier cocked his head to one side, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he listened. Haddy’s scowl deepened. Genevieve considered boxing her brother’s ears.
Haddy thought for several long moments, but then his brow cleared. “Daresay that would do the trick. Though Summer could well put her heels down and refuse to have you back, I have no doubt. Not sure if I care to speak with her on your behalf—”
“Then don’t. Besides, no one will ever convince Summer of a thing unless Summer wishes to be convinced.”
Haddy shifted his weight from one foot to the other, much as Xavier had done. “ ’Fraid that may be true,” he conceded. “What then?”
“I’ll have to convince her myself, as I’m the only one she wishes to persuade her,” Michael said complacently.
Genevieve stared from one gentlemen to the other, mystified. “How will you ever do that, Michael? It’s quite clear you’ve mortally offended her, and without doubt broken her heart.”
Michael shook his head. “Not a bit of it.” He stopped to reconsider. “Well, perhaps. But I had to show the girl that I’ll be my own master. And now she knows it. Happily, she’s wanted me to pursue her for the longest time. She’ll come back around, make no mistake, though I’ve little doubt she’ll lead me a merry dance before she succumbs and owns to it.”
Genevieve’s mind spun at his audacity, but she said what first came to her tongue. “But you cannot love her.”
He turned to her, his expression as surprised as it had been yesterday. “Of course I do. Utterly. Who’d tolerate such a little beast if not for the love of her?”
“True, true,” Haddy muttered.
“Michael,” Genevieve cried, struggling to understand, refusing to look toward Xavier. “I don’t understand—”
“I can see you don’t. That’s because you are one thing Summer is not: generous. You give of yourself, and not with first calculating what you’ll get back for it. You cannot understand she wants something so very much—namely myself—that she has tried every trick to get me. She adores me. No doubt because I adore her as well. It’s been dashed difficult these past few months, you know, playing the part of the callow, heartless, uncaring youth. And shame on you, Genny , for believing it of me. Oh, I’m every bit as spoiled as she, but not callow, even you must own to that. But you see, I had to tell her I was not to be had, not under the terms she dictated.” He laughed then, shaking his head and smiling widely. “Who knows, perhaps this is her cleverest trick to date? Perhaps I’m still being manipulated by the little minx. But I shan’t mind. It’s time to look forward to the chase.”
“But what if you’re wrong? Terribly wrong?” she asked, her hand at her forehead.
He laughed again. “I’m not wrong. You’ll see for yourself, Puss, when I win her back.” He stepped around his sister, heading for the inn, whistling a carefree tune as he resettled his hat at a jaunty angle.
Kenneth and Penelope exchanged mystified glances.
“Has he gone mad?” Genevieve asked blankly, her hand falling to her side.
“Probably. But thank goodness the two of them will finally be getting on with things,” Haddy said. He paused, cocking his head to one side. “Although, she may well make him play the pretty for quite some while yet. Just to prove she has as much pluck as he does.”
“Good lord,” Kenneth murmured.
The five looked at one another. “What next?” Haddy finally said.
Kenneth was the first to recover. He held up a blue sheet of paper. “We move on, I say.”
Haddy nodded, and the others made noises of agreement.
“I see no need to wait upon the others to read the next clue, as it’s Penelope’s turn, and we must get on with collecting the next token,” he said, casting a dubious glance toward the inn.
Penelope took the paper. “We may have to send Michael on his way home. Regardless of how he thinks of his own charms, it’s difficult to believe Summer would wish to travel in any wise near the man.”
“I think you’re wrong there,” Xavier said to his sister.
Penelope’s right brow rose, questioning his correctness. “We’ll see.”
“The clue,” Haddy said gruffly to her.
Her mouth twitched, not a smile but rather doubt. She knows something of love that has been put aside, Genevieve thought to herself.
“‘Four miles northeast of Chester am I,” Penelope read the clue. “’The remains of Price, where I did die.’” She shook her head. “It’s too easy, Kenneth. You’ve given me his name, and everyone knows James Price was hanged and that his bones remain still on Trafford Heath.”
He took the paper from her fingers just long enough to turn it over. “Read the back.”
She clucked her tongue. “You’ve added more? It’s your own forfeit you risk by doing so.”
He tipped his head a little to one side, conceding the point. “Just read it.”
“It says, ‘You must name James Price’s crime exactly and must recite the poem his remains have inspired.’”
Her fingers moved, as though she were counting, at the end of which she lifted dancing eyes. “I’ve not been caught out, dear Kenneth, and so you are saved. I’ve heard the answer from your very lips in the past. James Price robbed the Warrington Mail, and was hanged on the Heath for his crime. Years since, in his skull has been found a robin’s nest, and I’m afraid a chant grew from that unfortunate occurrence.”
“But how does it go?” Laura challenged, stepping forward, glancing at her brother to warn him he’d not escape his forfeit unless the entire clue was solved as stated.
But Penelope knew it. “‘Oh! James Price deserved his fate. Naught but Robbin in his pate.’”
There was a silent moment, then, “Not fair,” Laura cried. “Kenneth has been providing her with the answers. Is that why you two went off alone last night?” she challenged.
Penelope flushed a dark red, and Kenneth reached to straighten his cravat. “I should say not. We wandered afield, is all. It was dark,” he said.
Xavier turned away, perhaps so as not to l
et others read his expression, and Haddy offered a disbelieving snort.
“We were back before you two were,” Kenneth accused.
“We were looking for you,” Xavier said, facing them again. He almost smiled, acting undisturbed by the accusation.
Genevieve felt several shades of pink creep up her face at Kenneth’s insinuation, a fact that caused Penelope to fix her eyes briefly on the other woman as an awkward silence fell.
It was Penelope who ended it. “It’s water under the bridge,” she said. “And I’ve not cheated. I’ve merely paid attention when Kenneth spoke of matters of interest to him. Shall we be on our way to Trafford Heath to find the token?” she effectively ended the finger pointing.
“I’ll tell Laura the coaches are ready to travel, and notify Summer and Michael. See how those two wish to go on,” Xavier offered, moving toward the inn. Haddy let him go without any suggestion to accompany him.
The others didn’t immediately climb to their respective seats, uncertain when and if either of the once-betrothed couple would be accompanying them. To everyone’s surprise, Summer was accompanied from the inn by Xavier within three minutes, pulling on her gloves, her face as calm and sweet as ever despite the signs of recent tears. Behind them came Michael, silently carrying one of her hatboxes in one hand and two portmanteaux in the other.
It was a calm-faced armistice—and everyone went wordless, for they felt the energy surging under the temporary ceasefire.
Xavier lifted his hand, offering assistance into the carriage. Genevieve felt his fingers linger just a little longer than truly necessary, and she made a little surprised noise when he pressed her fingers with his own before releasing them.
Summer was just about to be handed up when Michael called out. “Summer, do say you will ride atop the carriage with me. It promises to be a lovely day.” He closed the door of the second carriage, and crossed the cobbles to stand near her.
“I am Lady Rose to you,” Summer said in her quiet voice, firm with resolve. “And, no, I’ll not sit with you.”
“You will. Sooner or later,” Michael told her, grinning, moving to step around Xavier and offer her his hand.
She disdained it, reaching for Xavier’s instead. “Whyever would I?” she asked as she settled in her seat, not bothering to look out the door toward the man.
“Because I love you. Adore you. Desire you. Need I go on?”
Xavier looked at Genevieve, fighting a smile, and much to her surprise, he gave her a wink.
Summer, unaware, sniffed. “Please close the door,” she said to Xavier.
The door was duly closed. Michael stepped back, looking through the window at the woman who studiously ignored him.
“Are you so sure you can win her back?” Xavier asked as he mounted the box and leaned down to present an arm up to his friend.
“I must. But it’s true she’s quite determined to play hard to catch. Re-catch, ha! Delightful sport, isn’t it? I confess, I’m finally glad we’ve come on this excursion,” Michael said with a contented sigh as he settled beside Xavier and gathered up the ribbons.
Inside the carriage, Summer was silent but Genevieve found her tongue and began to chat happily, unaware that Summer and Penelope exchanged a speaking glance with one another.
Chapter 19
As lines so loves oblique may well
Themselves in every angle greet
But ours so truly parallel,
Though infinite can never meet.
—Andrew Marvell,
The Definition of Love
“This was too bad of you to bring us here, Kenneth,” Penelope said semi-sternly as she picked her steps, with the delicacy of distaste, away from the weather-bleached bones yet chained overhead that were all that remained of James Price.
“Somehow it had seemed more clever, and less gruesome, when I thought of it at home. My apologies to everyone. It never struck me how disturbing such a sight might be.”
“I know he was a thief,” Summer said, “but it seems so cruel to leave him here this way.” She walked at her brother’s side, quite deliberately avoiding being anywhere near Michael.
“Cruel, yes, but perhaps necessary. It certainly tells any footpad who passes by what the locals do to those who dare rob the mails in this county,” Haddy said.
In her hand, Penelope carried a five of clubs playing card. Kenneth had explained that it had been twenty-three years since James Price was first set to swinging on the heath, and he’d added the numbers two and three to arrive at five.
“And why a club?” his sister asked as they made their way back to the carriages.
“For the club a footpad often carries, you see.”
She looked less than impressed.
He laughed. “Don’t mock me. I’m largely inventing the points of the hunt as we go, you know.”
When they’d returned to the carriages, Penelope said, “It seems there’s another clue to be revealed, if we’re to know our next destination.”
Kenneth drew out a piece of blue paper. “Let me think…whose turn is it? I confess I’m a bit confused on the matter. It ought to be Genevieve and Michael, but…Michael, you suggested to me this morning there was to be an exchange of partners?”
“Yes,” Michael said eagerly, just as Summer declared, “Indeed not!”
“Well, which is it?”
“As I recall, the last thing Lord Yardley said on the matter was that he absolutely refused to be any partner of mine,” Summer said in quiet dignity.
“Any partner in terms of this treasure hunt,” Michael corrected. “Which I now rescind. What do you say, Xavier, Genevieve? Are you still in mind to take new partners?”
“I’ll allow Genevieve to choose,” Xavier said quietly.
Genevieve felt a pins-and-needles shiver run up the nape of her neck at the steady gaze he turned upon her, and started to shake her head. It suddenly seemed more than awkward, rather blatant, this exchange of partners, as though she opened a secret door into her innermost thoughts, allowing others, and perhaps even him, to see some of the crazy fluttering that ran through her at the idea. But before she could shake her head, she stopped herself. After all, there was more to be considered than just her own wishes. One purpose for agreeing to this journey had been that Michael would learn to appreciate his fiancée, and that he and Summer would come together at last. The former had been accomplished, but now the latter seemed an even more unlikely ending. Would Summer have anything to do with Michael unless she was forced to it?
For a long moment Genevieve stared at her friend, at the obviously piqued angle at which she held her chin, at the pretty face she’d somehow smoothed to show little sign of alarm or discomfort—and she suddenly understood that Summer was vexed, oh yes, but she wasn’t…distressed. Angry, indeed, but there was that in her eyes…but perhaps Michael knew the lady’s temperament, in this arena, better than did her friend?
Summer met her gaze, blinked calmly once, and waited as did all the others.
“Time is fleeting, my dear people,” Kenneth prompted.
“I see no impediment to exchanging partners,” Genevieve spoke slowly. “Summer already has her three tokens in her reticule.” She didn’t look to Xavier, afraid her color rose. “Even though she becomes Michael’s partner, her token count remains correct.”
All waited for an outburst of some kind from Summer—but it didn’t come.
“Summer?” Kenneth asked uncertainly.
“She wishes to be my partner,” Michael said, moving to her side. “Isn’t that correct, my love? You wish to play the game with your betrothed.”
“Lady Rose to you. And you’re no longer my betrothed.” She didn’t deign to look at him, but idly played with a tiny loop of thread on her glove. “I released you, if you recall.”
“I can correct that,” he said, his hands in his pockets as he rocked on his heels, a grin on his face. “Lady Rose, I ask you anew, will you marry me?”
“I certainly will not.�
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“What if I take your hand?” He extracted his hands from his pockets and grabbed one of hers.
She didn’t pull it free. “Lord Yardley, I should like my hand back,” she said though.
“What if I go down on one knee?” He promptly dropped one knee to the dirt.
“Then you will get a dusty knee,” Summer said crisply.
Genevieve stared at the sight of her brother so willingly making a fool of himself. Summer, standing cool and unmoved. Haddy grunting and going to check the teams. Penelope put one hand to her mouth to hide a smile. The remaining members of the party merely watched with faintly puzzled or uncertain looks on their faces—with the exception of Xavier, who had a smile lingering around his mouth which Genevieve looked up in time to discover. It was a strange little smile, one she could only classify as being somehow…well, tender. It sent another shiver coursing up her spine, and she tore her vision away, that he might not look up and see her just as the shiver curled up into the back of her eyes.
“But what if I make a flowery speech?” Michael went on.
“I could wish you wouldn’t—”
“Could wish it, but don’t. My dear, my own, my heart! It will make the sun rise each morning for me if you would be so good as to say you would be mine. Birds shall not sing for me until you have promised to wed me as soon as may be. The leaves on the trees shall not dance until you have—”
“Pish,” said Summer, staring off at the horizon as though in extreme boredom, but she made no attempt to move away.
“Those leave shall not dance until you have whispered the golden,” he pressed on, “blessed words that you’ll have me.”
“Partner,” Xavier said near Genevieve’s ear, causing her to spin toward him too rapidly, so that she almost reached out to touch him, to steady herself. “Would you ride with me, instead of inside the carriage?”
“Yes,” she answered simply, although she didn’t wear a riding habit, nor would she ask that one be unpacked. No one would appreciate the delay, least of all herself. If she delayed, she’d probably change her mind.
“Give me a moment to find the sidesaddle,” he said. All of the ladies knew how to ride, but the relentless sun had kept them from it.
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