by Abigail Agar
“Oh, I just snagged it on a branch carelessly. It is tiny,” Gwyn said reasonably.
Lady Stanton scolded, “Are you sure that is all it was?”
“Of course, Mother. What else would it have been?” Gwyn asked in frustration. The woman had been intolerable ever since the ball. It was as if any day could be the day that Gwyn was finally betrothed, and that perhaps it was all Gwyn’s fault that the sergeant had not asked her on the spot to wed.
Lady Stanton tapped the fan in her hand against her palm. “I saw Jack Shelton coming back up the property line,” she said accusingly to Gwyn.
“The creek borders their property too. I can hardly stop the man from going to the creek,” Gwyn said as she shook her head at the absurdity of her mother’s thinking. “Jack has plenty of eligible women to choose from that swoon at his every move. I do not think he needs one near spinster that he probably wrote off years ago added to that list. We are just trying to move past all of that old baggage and wipe the slate clean. It would help to be neighbours if we could at least be friends again.”
“You are not a spinster,” Lady Stanton chided. “You are practically betrothed, and besides once upon a time, Jack Shelton was very much taken with you. I have heard the rumours surrounding the family and have stood by them regardless because we need all the friends we can get. However, I am not willing to risk having the reputation of my one and only daughter ruined by one of the Shelton men because of a whim.”
Gwyn had heard about all she could stand of the woman’s ravings. She quickly left the room and went to find solace in her bedroom. Gwyn once again longed for Sarah’s companionship. Her mind went to Mary Donovan, and Gwyn tried to just face her situation with the same state of mind as the young woman.
Gwyn sighed and pushed herself up off the bed. She finished off the letter she had started writing earlier and decided that perhaps she could put up with Sergeant Chavers. As soon as Gwyn had made the decision to do as her mother wished, doubts began to creep in. Gwyn sighed and leaned her head back on the wooden desk chair. Why was it so hard not to think of the tall, green-eyed man?
Surely Sergeant Chavers was equally handsome, Gwyn wagered. Yet there was just something about Jack. There had always been something about the man that had drawn her to him.
Gwyn had been surprised when Jack had chosen her out of all the girls in the world. Yet, there was the wound that hurt the most. He had not really chosen her at all, had he?
***
Jack sat down and picked up his journal. He had written in the journal for years. It was the only thing that kept him grounded and sane during a good chunk of the military campaign that he had been a part of in France.
He wrote about how Gwyn looked on the bridge. The way she had talked, smelled, the way she held her head just so to the side. She had always done that when she was feeling bashful. Perhaps she had been hesitant to talk to Jack given how they had left things four years ago.
Whatever the reason, Gwyn had ended up on that bridge. Jack had longed to ask her why and had come close to not stopping himself. In the end, though, he warranted that the peace that they seemed to be tenuously maintaining was worth more than any answer he might get.
A roll of thunder broke Jack’s thoughts, and he stopped to listen to the summer thunderstorm that the heat had caused. It would be nice to have a bit of relief from the sweltering conditions. They were lucky enough to live close enough to the city that they did not have to fully leave their country homes to participate in the London season.
Jack knew plenty of families that had to uproot the whole of their household, or very nearly, to take part in the annual events of society. Still, others chose not to participate at all unless they had young people of marrying age, of course.
There was a knock on Jack’s door, and he quickly put away his journal in his desk drawer. “Yes?” Jack called the question to whoever was behind the sturdy wooden door.
“Mother is planning your future,” Henry’s voice called. “Thought you might want to be privy to that, Little Brother.”
Jack groaned and stood up. “I will be right down,” he called. There was no answer, but Jack could just hear the creek of the stairs going down.
***
Downstairs, Lady Shelton looked up and smiled at Jack as he came into the sitting room. “Oh, there you are,” Lady Shelton said as if she had been waiting on Jack for some time. “Come sit down. We need to talk about the ball.”
“What about it?” Jack asked warily as he sat down on one of the overstuffed chairs.
Henry was sprawled on one of the couches. Henry chuckled and said, “Everything. She wants to know everything including your possible names for offspring.”
“Oh, I do not,” Lady Shelton said as she rolled her eyes at her oldest son. “Do not listen to him. I merely need to know what you thought of the young lady.”
Jack did not want to be rude, but he also wanted even less than to be untruthful when it came to something like betrothals. He had had enough experiences with getting burnt in the process. Jack said honestly, “She is nice.”
“You did not like her then?” Lady Shelton asked suspiciously.
Jack shrugged. “There is nothing in particular that is wrong with the young woman. I am just not drawn to her.”
“Yeah, that is what I said,” Henry chimed in. “I am just not drawn to the young women that Mother picks out.”
Lady Shelton gave her boys a stern look. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with the women I picked out for you two. And Henry, with the rumours you have created for yourself, you cannot afford to be too picky.”
“Well, at least she does not mince her words,” Henry said wryly to his brother.
Jack just shook his head. “Sometimes, despite our best efforts, Mother, there will be women that we just do not have feelings for.”
“That I understand perfectly well. However, you cannot turn down half the county either, Jack. Admittedly you seem pretty popular with the ladies, but the rumour with your brother is going to start staining you as well if it has not already. Be careful that you do not get yourself trapped in a corner because of it,” Lady Shelton said in warning.
Chapter 4
“Do you have your fan?” Lady Stanton asked once again.
Gwyn sighed in frustration. “I have the fan,” Gwyn informed her mother as she held the item up and waved it around for her mother to see.
Lady Stanton just nodded and said, “Good. It will likely be quite hot and bright out at the lake. A picnic really should be for later in the summer. They have too many newer families hosting the events this year.”
“I am sure it is going to be just fine, Mother. Besides, Sergeant Chavers is going to be there, and you can chaperone from the shore under your umbrella while sipping wine. Surely that makes you happy,” Gwyn said with a smile to her mother. It was not the happiest smile, but it was just about all Gwyn could manage.
They were riding in a carriage. Each lady had prepared a basket for the gentleman who would be joining her. She wanted nothing more than to just get this event over with. Perhaps Sergeant Chavers would ask her to wed, and Gwyn would finally be able to breathe again.
Gwyn could not believe that anyone would attend the Season in London if they were not forced to by circumstances. Yet, she knew people who did it. She swore that if she ever got out of this she would never come back until she had children that needed the process to find matches.
Gwyn huffed as her mother went over her all-important list. Gwyn was much too worried about the pounding in her head that seemed to take over as she thought of the function to come. Gwyn had hoped that it might even rain as the spontaneous clouds were so prone to pop up, but alas the sky was clear of all the clouds that could bring her relief.
Lake Greyson stood still and calm as the carriage pulled to a halt. Before long, the driver was helping Gwyn and her mother down. The sun beat down with unrelenting malice for all the participants.
Gwyn and her mother
walked to a pavilion set up along the lakeshore where people were gathering. Luckily for everyone, a strong breeze was sweeping in off the lake, providing a nice cool draught of air which everyone was taking advantage of.
It took little time for Gwyn to see a familiar face. Mary Donovan waved to Gwyn as an older woman that Gwyn presumed was her mother stood beside Mary while talking to another older woman.
Some of the men were there already, but most seemed to be arriving fashionably late. When Sergeant Chavers finally arrived, Lady Stanton waved the man over eagerly. “Sergeant, I trust you found the lake well enough,” Lady Stanton said unnecessarily.
Sergeant Chavers laughed. “Well, it is the only lake for miles around.”
Gwyn found herself stifling a laugh which seemed to amuse Sergeant Chavers by the look on his face. “We had better go get ready. I think there are boats down by the dock there,” Gwyn said eager to get away from her mother, even if it meant getting out on the waters.
“Right,” Sergeant Chavers said as he picked up the basket that Gwyn indicated was hers with a wave of her hand. “After you, Milady,” he said grandly.
The boats were just little rowboats, most of which were painted white. The one that Gwyn and Sergeant Chavers ended up with was a bit weathered but in good shape. Sergeant Chavers helped Gwyn into the boat before he too stepped down off the dock and onto the boat that swayed with his motions.
Gwyn was thankful at that moment that she had never been prone to motion sickness and such. Some of the other young ladies clearly were not as lucky. As Sergeant Chavers pushed them away from the shore, Gwyn spotted Jack and Henry. She could not tell who, if any of the ladies the two men were with, and she chose instead to focus on the man currently rowing her away from the shore.
“This might be a poor time to ask, but can you swim?” Sergeant Chavers asked the question with a grin.
Gwyn laughed and said, “As it happens, I can swim quite well despite it not being fashionable for young women these days. My father had no sons, and he allowed me a bit more free rein to do things than my mother liked.”
“I think knowing how to swim is a sensible thing,” Sergeant Chavers said reasonably. “I cannot imagine travelling by boat anywhere and not knowing how to do so.”
Gwyn smiled, “So you would not be opposed to your own daughters learning how to swim then?”
“I would insist on it, especially given the rate at which people seem to travel over water these days,” Sergeant Chavers said.
Gwyn gave the man an appraising look before she said, “I do believe that you have surprised me, Sergeant Chavers. It is not often that people do that these days.”
“I am glad to have managed it then,” Sergeant Chavers said proudly. “Where would you like to picnic?”
Gwyn shrugged. “Anywhere is fine. I am not really all that hungry, but I imagine you will be after some more rowing.”
“Who says that I am not hungry now?” Sergeant Chavers asked with a grin.
Gwyn laughed, “Then stop rowing and eat. It is nice here on the lake.”
“It is,” Sergeant Chavers agreed. “It is peaceful.”
Gwyn watched the man take out one of the sandwiches she had packed and smiled as he ate. Curiosity got the better of Gwyn, and she ventured, “If we were to wed, my mother seems to think that you would settle here in England. I am not so sure of that, and I was wondering if you would clear up the confusion for me.”
Sergeant Chavers chuckled. “You get right to the point. I like that about you, Gwyneth.”
“You can call me, Gwyn, everyone else does,” Gwyn told the man with a smile. She had never heard the man use her given name, but she liked it well enough when he did even if it had taken him being in the middle of a lake to get up the courage to do so.
Sergeant Chavers nodded and tried out the name that he had been given permission to use, “Very well, Gwyn.”
“Much better,” Gwyn said with a nod of approval. “Now about that question.”
Sergeant Chavers chuckled and dipped his head as he assented to her question. “I think that if the family estate needs work that I would stay on here in England, at least for some time. I am not opposed to moving back to India, but I know that your father’s health is not what it should be, and there will be quite a bit to do to get the estate back in top condition.”
“Yes, I am afraid that I cannot see leaving Mother here to deal with Father the way he is,” Gwyn said softly. “He is not himself most of the time.”
Sergeant Chavers nodded thoughtfully. “That is part of being family. Besides, I am sure my mother would love me to stay in England to help my own father out as well.”
“So it would appear that we will be living in England at least for the time being,” Gwyn said with a laugh.
Sergeant Chavers agreed, “It would appear so. And do not worry over your aunt or Major Gallagher. They knew there was a good chance that once I returned home to England, I would be here for the foreseeable future. I think they are more concerned with you being happy.”
“As you said, I guess that is part of being family,” Gwyn said quietly. The clouds were gathering up overhead, and Gwyn eyed them with interest.
Sergeant Chavers tipped his head back to look at the clouds as well. “I do think we may get another shower later on,” he commented as he continued to eat. The wind was causing them to drift lazily across the lake.
There were other boats nearby, but none held people that Gwyn was familiar with. She sighed, “I hope the rain holds off until we are back to shore.”
“First sign of rain, I will take you straight in, I promise,” Sergeant Chavers said seriously.
“And I appreciate that,” Gwyn assured the man.
Gwyn’s eyes slid to the boats nearest them. The couple nearest them seemed to be quarreling, and Gwyn was doing her best not to pay attention to them lest she eavesdrop by mistake. Sergeant Chavers had noticed the couple as well. At that point, most everyone within earshot of the boat had noticed the disagreement. The next thing that happened was the man started rowing towards shore, which incensed the young lady with him.
“Oh dear,” Gwyn said softly as she saw what was about to happen.
The young lady was crying and stood up in an attempt to swat at the man. Gwyn had no idea what had brought on such a tantrum, but it was clear the young lady had not anticipated the boat would rock as violently as it did with her movements. Gwyn gasped as she tumbled out of the boat.
There were shouts from nearby boats, and Sergeant Chavers was quickly out of the boat along with several other gentlemen who came to give aid. It took them a bit to get the girl onto one of the boats. Gwyn and the others nearby held their breath as the young lady lay unresponsive. Eventually, she coughed up the water she had swallowed, and Gwyn said a prayer of thanks that the young woman was okay.
The man who had been arguing with her had not leaped into the water to save her, Gwyn noted. The man sat ashen-faced and clearly shaken in his rowboat as the others began to row towards shore. Sergeant Chavers climbed back into the boat with Gwyn and rested for a long moment.
“I am glad she is okay,” Gwyn said softly. “That was brave of you.”
Sergeant Chaves waved off Gwyn’s praise. “Most any man here would have done that,” Sergeant Chavers said reasonably.
“Her sweetheart did not,” Gwyn commented to Sergeant Chavers.
Sergeant Chavers looked over at the man who was still clearly shaken by what had happened. Sergeant Chavers sighed and said, “Not all men can swim.”
“I hope that is what prevented him from coming to her aid,” Gwyn said thoughtfully.