by Nicole Byrd
“’Is lordship sends ’is regards,” Bess said, “and ’e picked ye a bouquet.” She had brought the flowers up. They had obviously been picked from the Applegates’ own garden, and Bess had crammed them into one of the older vases, but still the autumn blooms were pretty.
Maddie felt a wave of pleasure. “How sweet. Thank you, Bess, and tell Lord Weller I was very pleased. I hope to be downstairs soon.”
“No, no, ye won’t.” Bess’s tone changed at once. “’Aven’t we already turned aside Miss Nosy Parker to keep ye quiet and peaceful, like?”
“Who?”
“Mrs. Masham, ’o else,” Bess said, with a jerk of her head.
Who else indeed, Maddie thought, grinning, as she took a bite of her eggs, which were as light and delicious as usual. Bess was a fine cook.
“Yer papa sent a note that ye weren’t able to go to ’er dinner two nights ago—”
“Oh, heavens, I forgot all about that engagement—I’m so glad he remembered!” Maddie almost dropped her fork.
“Well, ’e did, so not to worry,” Bess said, her tone matter-of-fact. “And just as well, I’d say.”
Maddie thought it more prudent not to answer aloud, but she was quite glad to have missed the Mashams’ dinner party. “So she has already come to call?”
“To see if ye were really ill, I’d say—and not just sloughing off ’er dinner party—such a suspicious one I never saw!” Bess shook her head as she straightened the bedclothes. “She was all set to nip up to yer room again, but the viscount caught ’er and maneuvered ’er into the sitting room and ’ad a cup of tea with ’er. All politeness, of course, but sharp, ’e is. She couldn’t get away from ’im.”
She made it sound as if Adrian had cornered a rabbit in the garden trying to get into the peas. Maddie had to concentrate in order not to laugh.
“Then I am doubly grateful to Lord Weller!” Smiling, she finished her breakfast, drank some of her tea, and then, although still feeling shaky on her feet, bathed and dressed.
After even that slight exertion, she was glad to sit and rest for a few minutes. Then, after checking with Bess to be sure no unwanted visitors lurked below, she made her way down the stairs.
She found Adrian in the sitting room glancing through a book. Standing when she entered, he put down the volume.
“My dear Madeline—I am so glad to see you on your feet. At least, I hope you are not up too soon. How are you?”
“Much better,” she said, smiling at him. “Thank you for the flowers. That was a very sweet thought.”
“The day is mild,” the viscount noted. “Would you like a stroll in the garden? If that is not too much exertion. You look a bit pale, still. Would the air do you good?”
“That sounds lovely,” she told him, smiling still. Just seeing him standing there, smiling in return, made her happy, she realized suddenly. When had he become so essential to her well-being?
“You might want something to put about your shoulders. Shall I ask Bess—” the viscount had begun, when the maidservant herself came to the door.
“Yer father is asking about ye, Miss Maddie,” she pointed out, her tone somewhat astringent.
“Oh, of course,” Maddie said, abashed. She had not even stopped at her father’s study to tell him she was recovered. She’d never forgotten to do that before! “I’ll go down to his study right now. And would you go up to my room and bring down my shawl, please?”
“Yes, miss.”
With a smile for the viscount, Maddie left the room and hurried down the hall.
After spending half an hour with her father, she felt free to return to the front room to rejoin the viscount and then make her way outside. The sky was clear again after several days of rain, and the puddles almost gone.
Adrian offered his arm for support, and she was happy to lean on it, and not just because she still felt a little shaky. Truth was, she also enjoyed being so close to him. She didn’t have to be on the verge of a headache to enjoy his touch, his masculine scent, the intoxicating awareness of having him so close.
She was jarred out of her pleasing thoughts when she looked up at the big oak in the center of the garden, the one they had leaned against the last time they had been out among the flower beds. Then it had still been in the height of its golden autumn glory, full of riotous color.
The heavy rains had brought down the better part of the tree’s leaves, which now littered the ground below. The golden leaves were turning brown and brittle, their splendor only a memory, and the limbs overhead were mostly bare, outlined against the blue gray autumn sky in stark lines.
Maddie felt her heart sink. Somehow, this was too oppressive a reminder of how swiftly time was going by. Two more days and they would be sitting again in their family pew, and the vicar would read the banns once more. Then only two weeks would be left, two more readings, and they would be free to marry. And Adrian would be free to leave, if circumstances should demand it.
He still kept his eyes on the woods around the house, she noticed, still watched dark shadows at the edge of the treeline, or scanned tall trees that someone might climb to get a good shot upon an unwary passerby.
How long would he feel like someone’s quarry?
How long could she keep him here?
And if she could not keep him, how could she bear to lose him?
Nine
Maddie felt her heart contract at the thought of losing Adrian. She paused, and the viscount turned his attention at once back to her.
“Are you fatigued? Shall I take you back inside? I can carry you if you are too tired to walk.”
She shook her head.
“It would be no trouble. You are as light as a newborn lamb, Madeline.”
She smiled ruefully at that. “I doubt it. But I’m fine, Adrian. Although we might sit a while on the bench up ahead.”
“Of course,” he agreed. The bench was still damp, but Bess had sent along an extra throw, and he spread it on the seat then steered her to it and sat down beside her.
“I just—I just had a moment of melancholy, that’s all,” she told him. “Time is passing, and nothing can stop it, slow it. I don’t want you to go, Adrian.”
He pulled out his watch and she saw the small charm, a miniature hourglass with sand that poured from one side to another. He twirled it, and the sand slid too quickly—much too quickly—from the top to the bottom.
For a moment, neither spoke.
He looked away, down the swath of green lawn to the trees beyond, where one could not see the hidden undergrowth. “Nor do I wish to leave you, dearest Madeline. But if I stay, if my pursuer finds me, I cannot risk putting you in danger when bullets fly. After this madness is ended, you know I will return.”
If you can, if you are still whole, or even alive, she thought, wanting to hurl the words at him, shout, scream her frustration, but knowing she dare not.
Today, she did not even have the energy to discuss it. He slid the watch back into its pocket and put his arm around her, and she lay her head against his chest—she didn’t care who saw—and they sat quietly for a long time, as she listened to the quiet pounding of his heart.
Later, they returned to the house. Maddie was glad that dinner tonight was a quiet, pleasant one at home, with just the three of them. But it seemed Bess was destined for many more evenings with less work, as the invitations continued to pour in.
With distinctively mixed feelings, Maddie accepted a dinner invitation for Saturday, but she enlisted the support of Felicity so that her father did not have to go out, as he had had more aching in his poorly healed broken bones than usual since the last rainstorm.
Since they would be returning fairly late, Maddie wrote a note asking her friend to spend the night at the Applegate house, so Felicity walked up the path Saturday afternoon carrying a modest carpetbag.
“You should have waited,” Maddie scolded. “Thomas was coming down to accompany you back; he could have carried your bag.”
“
It was no trouble. And I have my gown completed and ready to wear. I’m so excited,” Felicity told her. She had also done her hair slightly differently, with a smooth twist instead of the usual severe bun, so she was going to look very fine, and Maddie told her so.
“And look,” Maddie said. “When I got the first part of my packages from the dressmaker in Ripon, she sent an added present since we ordered so much—two reticules, and with such lovely trim. I want you to have one of them.”
“Oh, I couldn’t,” Felicity said.
But Maddie insisted, and Felicity gave in, with suspiciously damp eyes. “You are very kind.”
Maddie, who had wanted her friend to have something new, was satisfied. “This one will match your outfit very well. Now, we are both ready to go!”
She was feeling very festive herself, with one of her new dinner gowns from the modiste. Bess and Felicity helped her with the new silk, a soft green that made her skin look clear and her eyes bright. Maddie added her mother’s pearl eardrops and wove some fresh white asters into her hair, and was pleased with the result. She only hoped the viscount would be, as well.
When Maddie came down the staircase and saw his face, she judged that he was. The sparkle in his eyes made her blush.
“My dear Madeline,” her father said. “You look particularly fine tonight. You will outshine all the young ladies!”
“Thank you, Papa,” she said, leaning over to kiss his forehead.
Adrian took her hand and kissed it lightly. “You are a vision,” he said simply. “The modiste could have no better person to show off her talents.”
She blushed even more deeply, and turned to say, “Look, Papa, doesn’t Mrs. Barlow look very handsome?”
“I assure you, I had already noticed,” Mr. Applegate said. “I am pleased to see you put aside your black, Mrs. Barlow. The lavender becomes you splendidly.”
Felicity seemed startled to be complimented, and she blushed just as readily as Maddie had done. “Oh, thank you,” she said, her voice a little breathless. “Your daughter, that is, Miss Applegate, has been so magnanimous—”
“Oh, yes, Madeline has a kind heart, takes after her mother,” he agreed, beaming on them both. “Have a splendid time tonight, now. I’m sure Lord Weller will take good care of you.”
Maddie gave her father another quick kiss good-bye.
Adrian grinned. “I am pleased that you come with such a testimonial,” he said in an aside to Maddie, which made her giggle as she put on her shawl.
“Wretch,” she said beneath her breath. “You will see what a termagant I can become.”
“Ah,” he offered her his arm as they started for the carriage, giving his other arm to their chaperone, “I tremble at the thought.”
Maddie rolled her eyes at him as she stepped into the carriage.
The first part of the evening was pleasant, the meal sumptuous. Once again the most difficult part of the evening occurred when the ladies withdrew, and the female guests seemed to feel freer to offer more sharp-tongued observations without the men around to make note.
“You’re looking very well tonight, Miss Applegate,” Mrs. Terrence remarked as the ladies settled into the sitting room.
“Thank you,” Maddie answered cautiously. “As do you.”
“That’s a new outfit, I believe. Most becoming.”
“Perhaps she needs it to make up for the clothes she lost in the wood,” a younger lady, Miss Jeets, muttered just loud enough to be heard. Several of the women tittered, although some of the older ones looked shocked.
“A pity about the lack of good morals these days,” Mrs. Jeets, the mother of the young lady who had spoken, added, her voice loud.
Maddie felt her cheeks burn, but could think of no retort that would not make the situation worse.
“A pity about the lack of good manners, these days,” Felicity said clearly and just as loudly, looking Mrs. Jeets straight in the eye.
A couple of nervous laughs came at this, although Mrs. Jeets harrumped in displeasure. Felicity kept her expression pleasant and quite composed. Maddie wanted to shout with laughter and didn’t dare, but she felt better.
“It’s a shame they are letting just anyone into Society these days,” the matron shot back, glaring at Felicity.
“Yes, isn’t it?” Maddie snapped, scowling at Mrs. Jeets.
By this time the tension in the sitting room was as thick as treacle. But Maddie was losing her nervousness, although she felt sorry for the hostess, who looked decidedly woebegone. Having Felicity beside her made all the difference.
“I understand acorns do not fall far from the tree,” Mrs. Jeets declared.
Not sure what this referred to, Maddie had no good retort ready.
One of the other ladies seemed to think this might make a more inoffensive topic. “My mums are doing quite well this season. How is your garden, Mrs. Bright?”
But her attackers were not done.
“You’d think that a lady—I mean, a female—who was conscious of her misdeeds, who had been so obviously compromised, would have enough awareness of her shame not to flaunt herself by going about in Society before she was decently married!”
“Oh, dear, dear,” their hostess, Mrs. Bright, sputtered. “That’s hardly fair when it was I who invited—”
“I wouldn’t know,” Maddie said, keeping her tone mild with some effort. “Perhaps in your family, you do?”
Gasping, Mrs. Jeets dropped an almost full cup of tea into her lap, with not good results for her rather loudly hued purple satin gown.
At the same time, her daughter wailed, “Mother! You didn’t tell them about—”
“Lavinia—hush!” her mother snapped, dabbing her napkin ineffectively at the spilled tea, which was now running in rivulets onto the carpet.
Mrs. Bright waved to a maid in the doorway to bring a linen towel, while several of the other guests goggled at this unexpected revelation, and Maddie tried not to giggle. She’d had no idea that her chance remark would produce such results. At any rate, her tormentors seemed to have forgotten about her in their own embarrassment.
Next another matron remarked on a group of gypsies that her husband suspected of camping on their estate.
“Dangerous, those vagabonds, best watch out for your valuables, and I wouldn’t go out alone,” she said darkly.
“I should say not,” Mrs. Bright agreed, happy to have a new topic to discuss. “They will cut your throat as soon as look at you!”
This at least kept the conversation going until the men rejoined them, and before too long, Maddie and her party could excuse themselves and start home before the moonlight faded and the road became too dark for Thomas and their team to see.
“I hope you enjoyed the evening, Lord Weller,” Maddie asked, her tone formal, as they all rode home.
“Oh, yes, your neighbors are a cordial lot.”
To a visiting peer, a man who appeared rich and powerful, they were, she thought, sighing. Amazing how men were not attacked for their social sins, only women.
At least the war did not seem to have come up, unless it had been discussed during the men’s conversation, and she thought it best not to ask.
When they reached home, her father was waiting to see how the evening had gone. They all had a last cup of tea and then went up to bed. Felicity stayed the night in a guest room. Maddie told her how much help she had been, and the widow laughed.
“It was a pleasure; some of the same old cows have turned up their noses at me, you know. They are so quick to criticize and yet such hypocrites! When you are a viscountess, they will forget it all soon enough, you’ll see.”
“I hope so.” Maddie shook her head.
The night passed quietly, without any evidence of sleepwalking. The next day they all went to church, and again, the banns were read.
Maddie felt time rushing by, as palpable as a winter wind that shakes the eaves and makes the shutters knock against the house. What if these were the only weeks she might
have with Adrian? It was almost enough to make her stand up and object herself, if it would give her more time. Oh, what was she thinking—they would all judge her mad, and rightly so!
Of course she didn’t want to object. The longer she knew Adrian, the more time she spent with him, the more she truly wanted to marry him.
But if he had to leave her…
She glanced toward the viscount and saw that his expression seemed set. What had caught his attention?
At the front of the church a lesson was being read from the book of Numbers.
“So ye shall not pollute the land wherein ye are: for blood it defileth the land: and the land cannot be cleansed of the blood that is shed therein, but by the blood of him that shed it.”
Always blood and killing, she thought. It seemed to haunt them, to haunt him, everywhere they went.
She was very quiet as they returned to the Applegate residence, as was the viscount, and her father seemed content to chat with Felicity, who sat beside him.
They enjoyed a luncheon, and then Felicity said her good-byes and continued home, with Thomas to escort her and carry her bag. Before she left, she told Maddie she had enjoyed her evening out.
“All of it?” Maddie couldn’t help asking.
“Indeed,” Felicity answered, grinning. “I must keep in practice, you see. Just know that you can call on me at any time.”
“You were a great help,” Maddie said, keeping her voice low. She still did not want her father to know that some of their neighbors were not offering great examples of kindness and forbearance.
Felicity found her cottage just as she had left it. Why had she expected otherwise? But it was a comfort to have Thomas with her when she opened the door and crossed the threshold, looking quickly about to check that everything was in place and no surprises lurked.
She thanked the Applegate servant, and when he took his leave, she latched the door behind him and sat down on a stool. She had to get water and firewood in, but she could rest for a moment and think about how pleasant it had been to get out of this tiny cottage and pretend that she still had a life.