A Country Masquerade

by Margaret McGaffey Fisk

  “So you met a girl. No wonder your eyes are dreamy and a smile plays around your lips.”

  “Tell us about her,” Daphne broke in, shooting her husband a mock-irritated look.

  Aubrey shrugged. “There’s not much to tell. Yes, she caught my interest, but that means nothing. I can no more marry a simple country girl than you chose Willem over Jasper here.”

  She glanced around the room, clearly caring enough for the man to keep him from the pain of Aubrey’s unintentionally cruel statement. He’d meant only to deflect the attention from himself, an effort that proved no more worthy than his attempt to call out Daphne’s servant.

  “Why I didn’t marry Willem had more to do with my own feelings, though my parents would have suffered greatly had I chosen to do my sister one better. I’d like to think I would have proven as strong in love as she did, but my heart settled on one of my own station so I never had to test this.”

  Jasper arched his eyebrows. “And is it such a burden then?”

  She reached over and smacked his arm in retaliation for his teasing, but even that could not distract her for long as she turned on Aubrey to continue, “It’s not unknown for a man to marry outside his station, though more choose mistresses there.” She sent a dark look Jasper’s way, but he only laughed it off. “Why, I suspect there’s more women with pedigrees lower than you’d have thought. Given enough incentive, the trappings of station can be learned.”

  “Or so you are relying on with your dance teaching.”

  Daphne silenced her husband with a look and focused in on Aubrey, her expectant expression showing he had no choice but to offer a reasoned response.

  “No, it’s not unknown for some of the wealthier trading families to exchange their coin for an elevation in standing, and you’re right that many things happen in the name of love that would be frowned upon by the society matrons, your mother among them, Jasper. But there’s a world of difference between a London merchant’s daughter who has some sense of how the city process works, and a country girl used to open fields and laxer rules. She’d be nothing but miserable in London, and my future is tied to the city. I’d find nothing to do out here and would die of the tedium.”

  “You’d be surprised how busy one can be in the country, or maybe not so surprised with me abandoning you to your own devices for the day. Still, if your mind is set against this, neither of us has any right to steer your path.” Jasper turned back to his soup, signaling the conversation had ended.

  Daphne gave Aubrey one last look, but held her tongue as she too turned to the meal.

  “Have you had much response to your request for students?” Aubrey asked as the soup bowls were taken away by the staff, the topic chosen as much to draw the attention from his doorstep as because he had any curiosity.

  Daphne complied with his unspoken desire and started in to the accounting of Willem’s quest as though she had not been quizzing Aubrey only moments before.

  “I HEAR WE HAVE YOU girls to thank for the delicious tarts…though Cook did also mention how quite a few went missing barely out of the hot oven.” Uncle Ferrier shot a glance at Georgiana, but his smile softened the reprove.

  “We deserved them,” his youngest daughter declared. “Our restraint when faced with the fresh-picked berries was nothing short of angelic. Just ask Charlotte.”

  “Barbara showed the greatest restraint of all,” Marian added with an arch look at her cousin.

  Before Barbara could do anything to turn the conversation, her uncle shifted his attention to her.

  “Oh? I suspect this has little to do with berries.”

  She smothered a sigh, wondering just what had been in the message announcing her arrival.

  “She caught the eye of a nobleman visiting the manor,” Jane said. “Who would have thought her season successful even out here?”

  Marian reached for the basket of rolls as she finished her earlier thought with, “But she hardly gave him a glance, though he would have liked that and more if my eyes didn’t deceive.”

  Uncle Ferrier had kept his attention focused on Barbara as her cousins supplied the story she’d hoped to forget. She waited for the lecture to follow, but her uncle only shrugged.

  “Seems to me Barbara behaved all right and proper, though I suspect the same cannot be said for the rest of you.”

  Barbara wondered if now, with him singing her praises, would be an opportune time to ask about riding his horses knowing as she did her uncle would allow a proper saddle for safety if not propriety. With his mind on appearances, though, her timing could not have been worse so she said only, “They simply offered to help him gather berries for the manor. He declined.”

  “As so he should have.” He cast his gaze around the table. “You have no business gathering about unattached young men, girls. We might not be noble stock, but your reputations are worth enough not to squander them.”

  Georgiana tossed her head. “It’s not like Charlotte wasn’t there with us the whole time. We were chaperoned as well as any at the fancy balls in London.”

  Their father shook his head, gathered up his paper much to Barbara’s disappointment, and rose to leave the table. Before he’d passed through the doorway, though, he called back, “You forget that while your sister plays the role of mother, she’s an unmarried young woman as much as any of you. I’ll not have rumors spread that my girls lack decorum.”

  He didn’t wait for an answer.

  “Though I suppose it’s no different from London in more ways than one,” Georgiana murmured, her father’s censure having little effect. “From what we were told, you have a long list of suitors all begging for an answer which you refuse them.”

  “Georgie!”

  Charlotte’s attempt came too late to prevent the blush that rose to heat Barbara’s cheeks. The message had held more than she would have hoped if it spoke both to her success and her indecisiveness. Her parents had likely assumed he’d keep the contents to himself, but having been here long enough now, Barbara suspected her uncle had read the letter aloud over the breakfast table to share news of London before realizing discretion might have served better.

  “Aubrey St. Vincent is nothing like those suitors,” she said, her tone sharp. “They came to my father proper. He didn’t even know me from a simple country girl, and his intentions were unlikely to include a proposal.”

  A hurt look crossed Georgiana’s face before Barbara realized the way her words could have been taken.

  “I didn’t mean anything by it,” she whispered.

  “Maybe that’s the problem,” Georgiana snapped. “Maybe you consider yourself better than all of your suitors like you do the lot of us. I’m just grateful not all share your thinking.”

  Jane put a hand on her sister’s arm, though whether to soothe or restrain, Barbara couldn’t tell. Either would be welcome. Her cousin’s words burned, but she’d drawn them out herself with her own ill-thought speech.

  Marian gave a forced laugh. “If he doesn’t know who you really are, maybe you should do some kissing behind the hay bales. Your reputation would be sound, and you’d lose some of your arrogance.”

  Accepting the attempt to deflect with grace, Barbara chuckled. “I’d prefer to adopt a country girl’s saddle than her kisses.”

  “Oh, but that’s only because you haven’t tried them,” Georgiana said, the transgression apparently forgiven.

  “Georgie!” Charlotte cried again, this time shock coloring her tone. “Don’t tell me you have.”

  The youngest of them gave a wink. “I won’t. Tell you that is.”

  Charlotte put a hand to her forehead and pretended to faint. “Guiding the lot of you will put me in an early grave.”

  “Ah, but you heard Father,” Marian chimed in. “You’re no different than the rest of us. An eligible young woman ripe for the picking. Like the raspberries. Perhaps the next young lord will fall for your favors.”

  Their sister turned a deep crimson and thrust to her feet ha
rd enough to make the dishes rattle. “I think it’s time to clear the table,” she said in a tone that allowed no argument.

  Barbara joined the others in completing the chore, enduring teasing glances though nothing else was said. Nothing needed to be.

  The image of Aubrey bending toward her in the shelter of some haystack and of her rising up to meet him seemed firmly embedded behind her eyelids. An odd heat flooded her body at the idea.

  Sarah gave her a look that seemed all too knowing each time they passed in the hall between the dining room and kitchen, having eaten at the formal table.

  As much as her friend could not possibly know what lay in Barbara’s thoughts, the knowledge did little to stop another blush from heating her cheeks. If only he had stayed in London as he should have. Now he infected her visions of the country as much as he ever had those of London proper.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  I have some letters still to write,” Jasper announced as they rose from the table after a lovely meal followed by cheesecake topped with the few raspberries Aubrey had managed to bring back. “I’ll see you come morning, Aubrey. Have pleasant dreams if you won’t allow yourself more than that.”

  Aubrey gave a sour laugh and went to follow Jasper from the room, but Daphne caught his arm.

  “You forget. When Jasper fell for me, he thought me only a public dancer. My proper self he’d decided to throw over despite the repercussions because it wouldn’t have been fair to either of us if he spent his married life pining after another. Only chance made the dancer and my noble form one and the same.”

  Aubrey shrugged, the story still a bit miraculous and much harder to accept when he’d set a simpler task of finding a mate through proper circumstances and failed. “Maybe I should have haunted the dance halls instead, though seeing as I was the one to bring the masked dancer to Jasper’s attention, it seems even that path is barred to me.”

  She poked his arm much as she would have done to Jasper, her brows lowering in annoyance. “You miss the point, though whether on purpose or because you’re blind, I do not know. I will spell it out for you. Love comes where it may. You have no need to haunt the dance halls. You found it here out in the fields. You’d be a fool to throw it over just because she’s not of your station. The path to finding your match is rarely an easy one. You have to be willing to make the effort, and your country girl is less of one than my husband tread. You envy what we’ve found, but you’re ignoring the chance for your own.”

  He took a quick step to stay free of her sharp digit. “It’s not her rank that worries me, it’s her experience. Jasper may have been willing to tie himself to a dancer, but he could retire here to let the scandal die down. I have no such plan. She would be dragged from the country into the heart of society. She’d be crushed beneath the scorn of those more experienced, and isolated from all she’s ever known.”

  Daphne planted both hands on her hips. “Would you risk losing your chance at love to this? How are you to know she won’t take to society as a natural and become their darling?”

  For just a heartbeat, he considered her point. Had he been too hasty? Then a laugh burst from him long enough to provoke a glare. “I’ve only seen her the once. I’ve barely exchanged a handful of sentences with the girl. More likely desperation than love.”

  She paused as though to ponder his words, but he should have known better than to think her concession won so easily.

  “Then there’s no reason to worry about how well she’ll blend with society, is there? Not every courting ends before the altar, and you respect Jasper too well to damage this girl’s reputation or compromise her being. Why not find out just what drew you to her? Maybe your response is more because you’ve been looking than because of this girl. You’ll never know for sure if you don’t take the risk. If not to prevent regrets for something that never was then for the chance to discover how shallow your feelings for the girl truly are. You could walk away from her now, but thoughts of her would linger as they have this day and you’d never have a better opportunity for putting them to rest. Wouldn’t you prefer to know it is lust rather than something more lasting?”

  Aubrey stared at the woman who had captured his friend’s stone heart and didn’t know whether to laugh or frown. She’d spent her moment of thought well and had presented an argument where he could not say no without being either a cad or an idiot. He shook his head at her skill even as he gave the only answer left to him. “You are wiser than I. I’m wrong to put so much weight on a passing moment without question. Had I stayed longer, I might just have found my true feelings, but now I cannot seek her out without raising expectations I have no intention of meeting. However…” He held up a hand to still her protest. “Should our paths cross again, I won’t shy away. I’ll let fate take me where it will and only then decide what needs doing.”

  Daphne once again showed both her wisdom and strength of character as she responded with a sharp nod rather than pressing her point or crowing over her success. “Until the morning, then.”

  He watched her leave, thinking not for the first time how lucky his friend had been to find someone with the confidence to defy society and the intelligence not to be caught doing so. She showed the same qualities now as she assessed his situation, and for that, he held her in awe.

  His thoughts turned inward as he made his way to the guest room assigned to him. What if Daphne had been right about more than just his haste and this girl could best not just him but society as a whole? He knew her beauty would claim them, and she had shown reserve as well.

  His book worked hard to capture his attention while his mind preferred to wander through the possibilities should his feelings prove deep and his country girl even deeper.

  “SO WHY DIDN’T YOU tell him?” Sarah asked as they prepared for bed, the farmhouse boasting a single room for guests and Sarah so much more than a simple maid to bed down in one of the servant rooms.

  Barbara pulled back the covers, worn out by the day in the sun and helping with the household chores. “It didn’t seem the right moment.” She’d have to ask her uncle about riding when he was in a better mood.

  “You finally have a chance to speak with the man you spent weeks pining after, and it didn’t seem the right moment? Sure you became enamored of others soon enough, but I wouldn’t have thought you so fickle.”

  Barbara stared at her friend for a moment before connecting the question with earlier events rather than asking about riding of which Sarah knew nothing. Not for the first time, she wished she’d confessed her humiliation that very night. Instead, she’d held it close where it festered and made her vulnerable to both her cousins’ teasing and now even Sarah.

  “You don’t know the whole of it,” she blurted, unable to hold it in any longer. “Aubrey St. Vincent is a fraud of the worst sort. He pretends to be wonderful only to mock those who fall for his illusion.”

  Sarah rounded the bed and pulled Barbara into her arms, her friend kind enough not to criticize Barbara for holding the secret.

  “Just what did he do to you? Is this why you behaved so poorly in the park before we were sent out of London? All this time you let me think it was from a foul mood after your morning visit and let me condemn you for it.”

  In as few, succinct sentences as she could manage, Barbara explained overhearing exactly what he thought of her. She spared herself not at all, each cutting phrase as clear to her now as it had been the moment she’d overheard.

  Sarah pulled away to look Barbara in the face. “What they say of eavesdroppers is true, though from the sound of it you’d had little intention of listening in on what must have been a private conversation.”

  Barbara jerked to her feet. “And does that make it more worthy? That he would mock me so in private when I spoke nothing but his praises? He never even took the time to introduce himself before he formed a judgment so rigid he felt it worth sharing.”

  Sarah reached out, but let her hand drop when Barbara moved away. “So this i
s why you withheld your name.”

  “I did not. I gave him a name that is my own, just not the whole of it. I saw no reason to let him add a cut direct to the pain of hearing exactly how he saw me.”

  “So you thought to punish him?”

  Sarah’s gaze became intent enough to cause Barbara a measure of discomfort. She shook her head and tossed herself down on the coverlet. “I didn’t plan on staying unknown. I didn’t think it through at all. I just wanted him gone. His presence only makes his words burn the sharper. I’d thought myself free of that pain here. He has no business following me.”

  A chuckle escaped Sarah’s lips, and even Barbara had to fight a smile at how petulant her words had sounded.

  She had no control over Aubrey’s movements, and with him unable even to recognize the one he’d scorned, he’d clearly not come here to plague her further.

  “It doesn’t matter,” she said at last. “We’re unlikely to cross paths again while I’m here. It’s not like Uncle Ferrier travels in the same circles as the manor.”

  “Except you encouraged your cousins to take lessons there.”

  A frown pinched Barbara’s forehead at the reminder. “I couldn’t have known. And it matters even less. I have no need of lessons. Perhaps I can convince Uncle Ferrier to lend us some horses to entertain ourselves while the others are training for something they’re unlikely to experience. I’ll be sure to stay on the far side of the manor fields either way rather than hear one more word out of his mouth.”

  Sarah considered Barbara for a long moment before saying, “The words might be different if he knew you.”

  She laughed. “He wouldn’t be likely to try any more now than then. He thinks I’m some country girl up for a dalliance in the fields. That’s how little he tried to discover anything real.”

  The look in her friend’s eye held a mix of consideration and mischief. “Why not give it to him then?”