by Claudy Conn
She certainly did not fit the picture his friend had painted for him in his mind. He had imagined a dainty flower and here was a rough and tumble girl sitting on a fence. He frowned and considered her because what struck him almost at once was that he had never before seen any other woman quite like Star Berkley.
* * *
“Oh no—oh no. Why is Jules’ friend staring at me like that? Does he suspect? No, how could he? He never saw my face,” Star mumbled in dismay to her stallion who immediately snorted a retort.
She looked herself over and chewed her bottom lip unhappily for she was clothed in an old weathered blue gown that had seen much better days and fit her a tad too tightly. In addition to that, she was quite certain she smelled like the stables for she had been helping Jeffries muck out a few stalls. Dash it, dash it, dash it!
She liked Jules Stamford and she was feminine enough to care about her appearance, even though she wasn’t sure just how much she did like him.
His open admiration and light flirtation had her confused. She found she enjoyed dallying with him and yet, though it was flattering, she wasn’t sure how she felt and did not wish to lead him on.
His wit and light conversation always set her at ease and she enjoyed his visits, but she wished she was wearing something a bit nicer. In addition to that, she was embarrassed and worried all in one thought. She had to bluster it all off. and please, she prayed, don’t let his friend look too closely at me! Don’t let him realize I am the lad he accosted last evening. With any good luck he probably was too bosky to remember.
She ran her hand through her flaxen locks, pulled out hay and brushed out dust, sure that some grime must be liberally plastered on her countenance. This was most unfortunate. She took the hem of her gown, and swiped it over her face in hopes of presenting a cleaner appearance. They were getting closer. Nothing for it, but to brave it out, for the moment had come.
Jules Stamford was waving vigorously and she could not pretend she hadn’t seen them. Sit on your fence and smile, Star, she told herself.
“Hallo,” Jules waved and called again as he approached and then as he was nearly by her side at the fence, “Good God! Look at Choice. Isn’t he looking fit?”
“Indeed,” she agreed glancing at her stallion and then back at Jules. Her eyes strayed to his companion who she could see was looking at her from the top of her head to her booted toes. She felt her cheeks get hot and told herself it was not because he recognized her but probably because he was a libertine that subjected all the ladies to such scrutiny. Her temper flared and she took a moment to beat it down as she said, “He is fit because Vern has been very diligent about riding him.” She released a short laugh as she remembered the last ride she had on him. “Vern must ride him, you see, for I won’t. He is too much horse for me.”
“Who do you think you are trying to bamboozle?” Jules returned on a snort. “You forget the first time I saw you, you were taking Choice over that line fence.” He pointed at the pasture rail in the distance.
She laughed. “No, Mr. Stamford. Choice took me over the line fence, for I had no say in the matter. I lived through that ride and when I dismounted and touched ground, I thanked the heavens I was in one piece.”
She allowed her gaze to casually take in the well-dressed man astride one of Jules’ hunters. He sat his horse quietly to one side and for some inexplicable reason she trembled when she thought of his touch last evening. Faith! He was staring at her. How rude. She gave him an arched brow and instead of being deterred, he grinned like a wayward boy.
She turned away from him a bit too quickly and very nearly lost her balance on the rail. She became flushed as she attempted to right herself, all the while Jules kept up a steady stream of banter.
He was explaining to his friend that she had a wonderful sense of humor and recounting yet another anecdote that had taken place in town when he remembered his manners and said, “Ah, but though I am sorry for it, good manners insist that I introduce this fellow to you. My very good friend, Sir Edward, allow me to introduce you to Miss Star Berkley.” He laughed and added, “Pay him no mind though, Miss Berkley.” He smiled broadly in his easy style. Star liked Jules Stamford but found she wasn’t sure she liked his friend, Sir Edward.
Sir Edward merely did the perfunctory. She could see he was not impressed with her. Well, why should he be? Her hair was a mess. Her clothes were worse. She must look like a hoyden. Why did she care if he was impressed with her? She didn’t, but he needn’t be so obvious about it.
Her quick first observation of Sir Edward decided her that he was what her brother would call a Corinthian, pink of the ton, a top sawyer. Well, well, what did she care for that? No doubt he thought a great deal of himself.
He tipped the beaver top hat borrowed from Jules, and expressed in a tone of ennui, “Enchanted, Miss Berkley.”
Sensitive to his obvious dismissal, she took immediate affront, however, her sense of humor kicked in and she answered, “Oh…I can see that.”
She saw his eyes as they snapped with interest and smiled to herself as she returned her attention to Jules, “Do you come to visit poor Vern? I am afraid I left him sleeping soundly. He has had such a bad night that I really do not want to disturb him.” She bit her lower lip. Should she have said that? Yes, indeed, why not?
“A bad night?” Jules offered with a frown. “I am sorry to hear that.”
Sir Edward stuck in at this point, “Miss Berkley…do you also have a younger brother?”
“No. Why?” She felt her body tremble.
Edward’s eyes narrowed as he answered, “Ah, I bumped into someone who had your look.”
“Ah, perhaps a cousin,” she suggested. Anyone who knew her well knew she and Vern had no cousins in the vicinity.
“I am sorry to hear that Vern is still unwell,” Jules stuck in. “I was hoping by now he would have recovered.”
Relieved to get off the subject of cousins she said almost too brightly, “He gave himself a setback by going out before he was well enough. Stubborn man, for I warned him how it would be.”
“Indeed,” agreed Jules with a nod. “In the short space of time since I have known him, I have encountered his stubborn streak.” He grinned amiably to soften the words.
“Right,” she returned and went on. “I sent poor old Jeffries out for the doctor yesterday in hopes of making him stay put.”
“What did he say? What is wrong with your brother?” This time the question came from Sir Edward making her look sharply his way.
“Oh, as to that, Dr. Hayes said he suffers from the quinsy and should be up and about by the end of the week.” She could see Sir Edward considering her thoughtfully and felt a moment’s uneasiness. He couldn’t have recognized her. Even if, as he said, she looked familiar, he had seemed to accept that she looked like her cousin. Hadn’t he accepted that? Her hand fluttered, “Look at me going on in this fashion. I am sorry. Would you like to accompany me to the house and take tea with me? I was just about to go up.”
Jules exclaimed unabashedly, “Indeed, famous good notion. Tea… we love tea, don’t we Edward?”
Edward eyed him dubiously and answered ruefully, “Do we?”
“Yes, yes, of course we do,” Jules claimed, his face bright with joy.
Star laughed, “I had not realized a simple offer of tea could bring such delight.” Her smiled encompassed both men as she brushed her hands together and said, “Right then, you might as well leave your horses here…with our groom, Jeffries and then come up to the house. I will just go ahead and see Cook about refreshments.”
Star felt their eyes on her as she gracefully as she could, jumped off the fence rail and started off. She sensed them watching her and turned slightly to wave and found this was true—they were both watching her and each wore a very different expression from one another. Again wishing she was groomed and in a finer gown, she hurried off.
* * *
Sir Edward eased himself out of his saddle as his head
was still threatening to spin. He turned to Jules who had already dismounted and regarded him for a long moment before he said, “So this is the lady fair who has won over your heart?” He sounded even to himself incredulous.
The lady in question, he thought looked no more than a child, though Jules had told him she was twenty. Besides that, her manners were freely unaffected, something quite out of the ordinary for ladies of fashion. Indeed, she could not be called a lady of fashion, even country fashion. She was nothing like the women Jules had been interested in over the years.
She was admittedly, quite a beauty. In fact, she was a most unusual beauty to be sure. She dressed like a servant and her hair was short, though its style became her piquant face. In fact, if he admitted the truth, he found he rather liked the way her flaxen locks were swept back away from her countenance. He liked too the way her hair fell across her forehead. Yes, yes, but she still was no more than a country miss. Her gown was old and showed signs of wear and although its tight fit displayed her provocative body to advantage, he was fairly certain she had been helping her groom in the stables for she was covered with stray strands of hay and floor dust.
No doubt the Berkley family had fallen on difficult times and for no reason at all, this troubled him. She didn’t appear to be interested in Jules’ status or wealth. In fact, she didn’t appear interested at all.
She had been sitting on a post and rail fence, of all things. Gently bred young women did not work in their stables and did not sit on fence rails. So then, why did he find her so intriguing? He didn’t. He was only surprised that Jules did.
He looked around himself as they walked toward the stable entrance and Jules rattled on about the chit at great length.
He could see that everything was in a sad state of disrepair and frowned over it. No doubt, brother and sister were attempting to maintain their home by working it themselves and he found that he admired her for that. She held herself proudly, unashamed of circumstances beyond her control. He did not want to be touched by this, but somehow he found that he was. Ah bah! Maudlin thoughts would only serve to draw him in where he did not wish to go.
However, the chit was remarkable. She had a lively sense of humor, which he had detected earlier when she had thrown out a sarcastic remark. She had noted that he appeared bored and in her delicate way had called him out on it. He liked that. Also to her credit were her dark eyes. They were exceptionally large, almond shaped and thickly lashed. Dancing white lights were alive with laughter in their dark depths and when she smiled. What the hell was he doing? She was hardly a woman.
Still, she was twenty and she had a quiet grace about herself. Not a long Peg and yet quite tall enough, but she was, in spite of her lovely curves, too thin. What did Jules want with an impish woman? Those sorts were always trouble. Besides all that, why was he thinking about her? It was Jules that wanted her and Jules was a grown man. It was not for him to worry about.
A groom came forward and Jules said, “Thank you, Jeffries. Will you see to it they are both watered?” He then turned and heartily slapped his friend on the shoulder and said, “Very well, why do you look so dour? Tell me and have done.”
“If you must know, I am concerned. She is not in your usual style, Jules. You must see that?”
“Yes, perhaps that may be true, but see where my ‘usual style’ as you put it, got me. Going for something different this time.”
They crossed the cobbled courtyard and took the wide stone steps to the front door of the Georgian styled home. An elderly retainer opened it wide and stepped aside for them to enter. They dropped their top hats and gloves onto the round center table in the central hall and followed Bankes, the butler, and ‘Cooks’ husband, as he led them down a wide corridor. Its walls were lined with what Edward assumed were family portraits. The butler whom Jules called Bankes, opened a set of double doors and once again, stepped aside to allow them to enter, before he quietly withdrew.
It was summer and there was no great need for a fire, but Edward felt the chill in the house, all the same and shook off the cold as he looked around at upholstery that needed repairs. “Fallen on hard times, have they?”
Jules had moved to the window overlooking roses in full bloom. “Indeed…they have.”
“You mean to set things right by marrying this chit?”
“Well, I…well… we don’t know one another well enough. I haven’t thought that far…not yet,” Jules hemmed.
Sir Edward snorted a laugh. “I see.”
“No, you don’t see. It would be presumptuous of me. She is a rare flower. She needs delicate courtship and understanding. I don’t want to charge in on her. You must see that?”
“What I see is…”
The sound of rustling skirts stopped any further discussion as both men turned to find a beauty with short flaxen hair brushed into a glorious windswept style. She wore a cool blue muslin gown with a high waist line and an A frame that hugged her as she walked. She was of good height, quite graceful and incredibly enchanting. Sir Edward’s jaw dropped as he felt his heartbeat quicken. Gone was the hoyden and in her place was an exquisite beauty.
Chapter Five
MADISON LANDS WERE extensive, richly irrigated and wisely cultivated. Its tenants prospered because its landlord’s interests had always centered on his estates. Not for Thomas Madison the lures of London, the temptation of the gaming tables, or the promise of speculation in industry.
Rumors had always flown that Mr. Madison’s roots were less than noble, that in fact, his great-grandfather had been a mill owner in the North and his original money had come from this source. It was certainly possible, for the Madison family had only been installed at the manor for some forty years.
More than once, the late Lord Francis Berkley had gazed at his neighbor’s lands and sighed. Madison prospered, while Berkley fell into ruin. The late Lord Berkley wasn’t the sort to look inward, find the fault and repair. He took his troubles to the gaming tables, to the races when the tables were cruel, and finally into investment schemes that quickly ate up what he had left and then what he had borrowed.
Now both Thomas Madison and Frances of Berkley were gone.
Both had left all that they owned to their immediate heirs. In Madison’s case, he had only his wife and his only child, a daughter, Georgina.
Georgina was not quite a raving beauty, but she had an air about her that made a man take note. She was of good height, good figure and her auburn hair was long and luxurious. She had a lively mind and was quite ahead of her times in her way of thinking. In fact, it was what had frightened off any would be suitors to date. She was ever ready to go on about matters that dealt with women’s rights and she did so with vigor.
Her closest and dearest friend, Star, was forever telling her that she was like no other female and was caught up in quite the wrong times. Georgina refused to use a ladies’ saddle, not because she was a ‘neck or nothing’ equestrian, but because she saw no sense in it.
These thoughts and others crashed in her active mind as she rode her steed across the fields on her way to Berkley to visit with Star.
Wayward locks blew in her face. She grabbed them and shoved them away from her eyes and thought with a grimace that she should have braided her hair earlier, for it was getting windier by the moment.
Anxious, she hurried her horse onward for Star had sent round a note asking her to visit her. She wondered and worried, for Star would not have been so cryptic unless there was a problem.
She knew that Vern was ill and hoped he had not taken a turn for the worse.
Thinking of Vern made her sigh. Star’s brother was showing a marked interest in her and it made her feel quite uncomfortable. She had known him most of her life and had always thought of him in brotherly terms. She knew he was in dangerous financial straits. Could it be he was interested in making a match of it to gain control of her wealth? She hoped not.
She understood that this was the way of aristocratic life. Marriages of co
nvenience were common, even sought after, but that was not what she wanted.
She also knew that a union between them was smiled upon by her sickly mother, for it would serve to have her only child married to a Lord of the Realm and installed nearby. Georgie understood a marriage to Vern would help him set Berkley to rights. She couldn’t marry a man she didn’t love, even to help him and her dearest friend.
In spite of her modern, practical and radical views, which encompassed some very intriguing opinions about romance and sex, she still withheld the hope that when she married it would be to someone who loved and respected her.
Some moments later she had given her horse to the head (and at the moment only) groom at Berkley, Jeffries. She marched up to the house where she made her way to the kitchen door and was met by Dilly, the Berkley’s day servant.
The woman’s mop cap was askew and Georgina smiled and set it in place for her saying, “There, Dilly, much better.”
Dilly bobbed her head, “Thankee miss.”
It was then that Georgina realized that Dilly was covered in flour and laughed, “Look at you, whatever has happened?”
“Yikes, miss, Oi went and did it this time, Oi did. Spilled a tin of flour…and we jest can’t at such a time… Cook will ‘ave m’head, she will.”
Georgie laughed, “Never you mind. Cook is all bark and very little bite. I’ll have my people send over two tins. How is that?”
“Why, miss, grand ye are.”
Georgina smiled, “Where is Miss Star?”
Dilly perked up proudly, “Entertaining she is, as she should be. Poor thing, stuck here all the time when she should be going to balls and sech.” She shook her head, “Ye know she has been working the stables, mucking out and sech. It isn’t right. Ye both should be in London…dancing and laughing.”
Georgina sighed, “With Mama so ill, tis impossible. Star and I go on nicely just as we are.” However, she had a moment of weakness as she imagined Star and herself waltzing around a ballroom floor. She frowned at herself and said, “Entertaining, you say?”