Emelia held back a little sigh. "Is it so very warm? That's the second time someone's mentioned it."
She looked up to see Hannah walking out arm in arm with their father. He'd changed into the coat he usually wore on business, fine attire indeed from a man who spent most days locked in his dressing gown scribbling away at the books and waiting for his ships to come in from their travels. She raised a hand in greeting, and they answered with a similar motion.
"Ah, and Judge Nichols!" She bowed her head in greeting. "Father will be delighted to have your company today as well."
"Perhaps he will learn from the feeling and agree to come with me hunting one of these weekends," the older man said with good-natured teasing. "He keeps standing me up for facts and figures in those ledgers of his."
Next came a family with children, the new couple that had moved in next door a few years ago, and the four young ones set about at once cavorting about the lawn. There were two girls rolling the crochet balls back and forth between the hoops, and two boys scrambling over each other to get at the badminton racquets. After the family was settled, there were only a few more young people to arrive. Amid this last crew, Emelia caught sight of a familiar, striding form. She turned to Hannah.
"Thank goodness, Brody's here at last. Why does he always wait so long to come? He leaves me with all the socialising and no one to make it more enjoyable with his teasing."
Hannah rolled her eyes. "Come now, Emelia. You've always loved the socializing, Brody or not." She shaded her eyes with her hands. "Wait, Montgomery's with him."
Brody Shaw was a long-time friend of the family. He and his older brother, Montgomery, had grown up alongside the girls. Montgomery was seven years older than Emelia, however, so within a few years of their friendship he outgrew their childish games and buried himself in studies at his father's behest. She knew him less well than she knew Brody, who was her age and a match in every way for her charm and drama.
He was her best friend, the boy she'd known since she was a little girl, and the man that her parents had fondly teased her about as she blossomed into womanhood. The Shaws were a good family; not quite as wealthy as the Wells, surely, but respectable indeed.
Emelia pushed that last thought from her mind. The idea of romance with Brody was not new to her, but it made her oddly uncomfortable; she preferred to pretend that life would continue forever like this: unattached young people in sparkling garden parties without talk of love.
"I’m surprised Montgomery's here," Emelia said at last, winking at Hannah. "You'd think his intellect and his books would keep him well and truly away from such frivolous circles."
"You're always so hard on him," Hannah said quietly. "He shouldn't be faulted for working hard and making something of himself."
"I don't fault him for that," Emelia said airily, "only for the way he has of bringing down the mood whenever he does agree to come to one of my parties."
"He is very different from his brother," Hannah answered.
She'd barely said as much when the young men joined them. Both boys were tall with dark hair and green eyes, although Brody's seemed at least two shades darker than Montgomery's, and was always finely combed in a perfect swath of thick hair. His suits were well-tailored, and the rakish charm in his eye lent him the air of a dandy that Emelia would have been suspicious of had she not grown up knowing the kindness that lay under that frivolous exterior.
Montgomery, on the other hand, had his longer brown hair in a tousled mess, as though he'd spent the night rummaging through old medical books again. He was handsome too, but in a more rugged way than his brother. There was a shadow of a beard on his chin, and distant intensity in his eyes.
Brody bowed at once in front of the girls, unfurling his wrist in an overdramatic imitation of the French court.
"My dear Emelia and Hannah, what a pleasure to see you this fine day. I was fair fainting away for want of your company. Wasn't I, Montgomery?"
Montgomery raised his eyebrows with a wry smile that came somewhere just shy of indulgent. He said nothing.
"Don't mind my brother," Brody went on with a wink in Emelia's direction. "He isn't one for social engagements, as you well know, and protested my bringing him here to the utmost degree." He paused when Montgomery met this comment with a furrow of his brow. "Don't try to disagree with me."
Montgomery cleared his throat, his jaw working before he spoke. "My brother seems to forget, as always, that there are things polite to discuss at events like this, and things that are impolite. Suffice it to say, at the present I am not regretting my decision to attend in the least."
Emelia hid a smile. Regardless of his words, Montgomery seemed awkward and uncomfortable in this setting. He looked at her and then at Hannah, but both times he seemed to be somewhere far away, his thoughts elsewhere. She remembered a time when they were children, frolicking along the riverbank behind the Wells' estate, and she'd gotten into a fight with Brody when he knocked over her little cabin of sticks and mud by the riverside.
"Emelia," fifteen-year-old Montgomery had said sagely, shaking his finger at her, "there will come a day when all these childish matters can be put behind you."
She'd lost trust for him in that moment, her childish self put out by a young boy bringing sober adult thoughts to a playground, and if she were honest, she'd never gained it back. Not that she suspected him of anything awful—just that she wondered always if he still looked on her actions like an older adult frowning upon the childish frivolities of a girl.
"Well," she said, pointedly moving towards the field where a game of badminton awaited. "Will you gentlemen play opposite us on the field?"
"Of course," Brody said quickly. Montgomery hesitated, and before he answered, another voice chimed into the close circle. It was Lady Michelle Parker, fanning herself, a servant and parasol close at her side.
"I'm happy to play, if you will allow me." She gave a little curtsy. "As long as I can be on the side in the shade. I wouldn't want to harm my complexion."
"But if you're playing there won't be room for—" Hannah began, but before she could continue Emelia stepped forward in the role of hostess, doing her best to keep the frustration out of her voice.
"Of course you can play," she said quickly. "I was just thinking that I would like to watch and learn the skill a bit more. It's so hard to determine proper technique when one is in the thick of it."
"I've seen you play before," Montgomery said suddenly. "And I know that you've no want for technique in the least. Please, play you four and give me the benefit of an excuse to speak with your father and the judge." He gave a stiff bow and left the group, heading off across the lawn towards those gathered at the tables.
Emelia felt a growing annoyance at the pink-clad lady across from her, who tittered into her fan and sent a sad glance following Montgomery's departing form. "Well, now," Michelle said with a mock pout, "that's a disappointment if I ever knew one. Who ever heard of an imbalanced badminton game? Only one gentleman in the match?"
"I'm sure we'll manage," Emelia said, a bit more shortly than she meant. She took off towards the net, gathering the supplies and handing them out as she did in an effort to mask the annoyance building inside her. A hostess should always bring grace to her parties, that much her mother had taught her, and to snap at one's guest at the very beginning of such event would be the height of insolence.
She served across the net, partnered with Brody, opposite Hannah and Michelle. The shuttlecock flew a little awry, but Hannah still dove for it and sent it back over. When the round had ended, Michelle scolded Hannah, saying, "You ought to let wild serves like that sink in the grass. No use doing their job for them."
Emelia risked a glance at Brody, but he seemed to take it all in good fun. "Lady Michelle, I'm sorry to say we didn't see you on our picnic outing a week past. It rained something dreadful, but in the end it was a marvelous good time."
She blushed. "I was otherwise engaged, but I did miss your company as well." She fingere
d the racquet and sent a glance towards the tables. "Tell me, was your brother in attendance? It's so rare to see him at events like this."
As soon as she'd looked away, Brody cast a glance in Emelia's direction: wide eyes and a mocking smile. He was up to something, but she wasn't sure what. All she knew for sure was that she wanted the game to end so she could surround herself with guests other than Lady Michelle Parker.
It took an extra round to close the match, and by the time they were walking back to the tables to eat, Emelia was sweating and out of breath. She pushed a damp curl of hair back behind one ear and fanned herself.
"Heavens," Michelle said as she passed her. "That's why I chose the shade, dear."
Emelia didn't point out that it would have been impossible for all three ladies to be in the shade, seeing as Michelle had dethroned Montgomery from his position with Brody opposite Hannah and Emelia. Instead, she focused her attentions on the next part of the party. She looked towards the staging room where she'd inspected the feast and saw a rather strange sight. The door was open and, standing there and waving rather urgently, was Aggie.
"Is something wrong?" Hannah whispered under her breath.
Brody was there all at once, leaning over the sisters' shoulders as a coconspirator. "Let me guess," he said in a low voice, "we've got a bit of a problem."
"We don't know that," Emelia protested, but her heart said otherwise. She took off across the lawn, motioning for Hannah to accompany Michelle back to the remainder of the party. Brody followed, as she knew he would. Even when they were at each other's throats he seemed to have her back.
As she neared the kitchen door, Emelia felt her heart dropping. Something was definitely wrong.
"Is dinner ready to be served?" she asked.
Aggie was twisting the folds of her apron in her hands, her eyes awash with horror. "Dinner won't be served at all, miss," she said in a hoarse tone. "The most awful thing has happened, miss, come and see."
She stepped aside and Emelia pushed into the room with Brody at her heels. The tables that she had seen only an hour ago laden with delicacies and meats beyond compare were now in utter shambles. The cake was a mangled mess spread across piles of vegetables and shuffled bread and rolls.
Everything looked like it had been trampled, and some things had noticeable bite marks. The duck, in particular, had been viciously attacked, and nothing but a few shreds of meat still clung to the bones. On the floor, very near to Emelia's feet, lay a mostly-consumed boar's head. The skull glared up at her reproachfully.
"What happened?" she gasped.
"Someone left the door open," Aggie said. "The hunting dogs got in, and you know how they can be. They took everything there was to eat and gobbled it all up before we got a chance to stop them. I'll find the maid who did it and dispose of her at once, I promise, miss. I'm so sorry. I know how things like this matter to you, and you're always trying so hard."
Emelia's heart sank even further. She put a hand on the cook's shoulder and shook her head.
"No, Aggie. No need to go on a hunt for some poor maid to blame. I was in here inspecting the food only a short while ago—you will remember—and now that I think of it, I can't recall shutting the door. This fiasco is entirely my doing."
Chapter 3
There was a moment of silence and then Brody let out a burst of unrestrained laughter. Both women turned to look at him in mild annoyance, but their gaze seemed to only tickle him further and in an instant he was doubled over at the waist, chortling as though he couldn't stop even if he wanted to.
"Brody." Emelia frowned at him. "Brody, this is not the time." She wanted quite suddenly to cry but suppressed the feeling. "I'm so sorry, Aggie. I'm so, so sorry."
The cook was looking at the boar's head at her feet, a frown creasing her lips. She kept her gaze intently there, and Emelia wished there was something she could do to help. She'd destroyed, in one moment of carelessness, the whole of the cook's attempts at a beautiful feast.
A moment passed where Brody was stifling laughter and Emelia was staring at the cook with a sinking feeling of failure; then, quite suddenly, a small chuckle came from the mouth of the cook. Before Emelia pulled out of her shock long enough to really understand what was happening, the chuckle was joined by a good-natured laugh, and then close on its heels a string of laughter.
"I suppose," the cook said at last, wiping her eyes, "that I couldn't have asked for a more grateful clientele."
Emelia watched in amazement as Brody and the cook dissolved again into laughter, and when they came up at last for air she said in mild wonderment, "But what are we going to do?"
"Do?" the cook raised her hands. "What is there to do?"
Brody stopped laughing and put a kind hand on Emelia's shoulder. "You do have to admit, Emmy, this happens more often than not with your events."
She stomped her foot then, disappointed at the childish action but wanting to get the two's attention as quickly as possible.
"Perhaps we can refrain from more criticism and put our mind to how we're going to tell our guests that the dogs ate the food."
"Right." Brody sobered completely, though Emelia still saw a twinkle in his eye. "I suppose it falls to me to yet again save the day." He winked at the cook. "I really am her knight in shining armor. Emmy, you won't be telling anyone that the dogs at the food, because other than you no one knows about this mishap. No, instead you shall go out there with a simple peasant fare and sell it as the rustic country experience. It will be novel!"
Both women stared at him blankly, the cook now recovered from her fit of hilarity. "Rustic?" Aggie asked.
"You have some fine port, if I remember correctly, and bread and cheese. We'll just serve that on platters with some fresh fruit from the cellar and everyone will feel like free and wild goatherds. Come, it will be the favourite talk of the town."
Emelia wondered whether or not she should protest, but the more she considered Brody's idea, the more sense it made to her. If she couldn't pull off the ultimate elegant event, than all that remained was to attempt something a bit more in tune with their environment.
Rustic living and the wild romantic life was all the rage since William Blake's illuminated poems had come into popular opinion, and selling a party as an intentionally simple excursion would be enchanting to everyone; even Michelle and her sparkling lace parasol couldn't find fault with that sort of innovation.
Aggie seemed relieved too. "At least I won't be back in the kitchen whipping up another duck," she said with one last chuckle.
"I'll reimburse you for your time, Aggie, of course, and everything that was lost."
"Hush, sweetie," Aggie said, and then, as though remembering proper manners around Brody, she tacked on lamely, "I mean, Miss Emelia."
***
The hunting dog fiasco turned out to be the last dramatic happening of the party. Once the food was laid out the guests fell upon it with exclamations of hunger and delight. There were no complaints, not even from Michelle Parker and her superior taste buds.
After luncheon there were more games, a brief showing of talent from one of the young people who offered to recite a poem, and some more conversation. Emelia found herself looking around and one point in the afternoon, marveling at what Brody's clear head had brought to what would ordinarily have been a disaster.
When the last of the guests had gone home, Emelia turned around to see Brody still sitting in the garden, one leg crossed over the other knee, sipping wine and talking to Hannah and her father. She walked over and ran her hands down the front of her skirt.
"Well, it came off in the end." She smiled, then looked around. "Is Montgomery still here?"
"He ducked out hours ago, said he had business at your gamekeeper's hut." Brody yawned. "Just an excuse to get a bit of air, I'm sure. But I'm sure he had a lovely time all around."
"I'm sure," Hannah said, exchanging a quick glance with Emelia. She stood and held out her hand to their father. "Are you ready to go in
, Papa? The evening air will be here soon and we'd best claim our place by the fireside before it comes." She turned and curtsied to Brody. "Goodbye, Brody."
A Lady's Perfect Match: A Historical Regency Romance Book Page 2