Before the Season Ends

by Linore Rose Burkard

  It was with thoughts such as these that the minutes passed by. She kept a keen eye out for Miss Herley but the young woman never returned. After more time passed and still she did not appear, Ariana became alarmed. Had something happened? Was Mrs. Bentley fretting over her absence? Perhaps she had been gone overlong. Just as she decided to begin her descent, a group of loud guests came into view. She looked down at the ground. If she started now, could she make it without being seen?

  The procession of elegantly clad ladies and gentlemen, ostrich and peacock feathers bobbing in the air, made its way jocularly across the grounds, in her direction. She drew off her bonnet, not wanting her own modest feather to be seen. She placed the hat gingerly in a nearby crevice, pulled her legs and dress up, and huddled, suddenly anxious, on her perch. She could hear the titters and snatches of conversation as they came wafting toward her. What had seemed so nice a circumstance only moments before had become a precarious one. If she was found in the tree, she would certainly be a laughingstock. And this, before having a chance to make a good impression on anyone! Her season would no doubt be ruined, and her aunt’s also. How could she have made a mess of things so quickly?

  The approaching crowd began to scatter apart. Were they playing a game? Some appeared to be searching for something. Voices were materializing on the breeze louder than before.

  “Miss Forsythe! Miss Forsythe!” Ariana froze in alarm.

  They were searching for her.

  Nine

  “Miss Forsythe!”

  Ariana stiffened with fear. The whole party was searching for her! Had she been gone so long? But why else look for her? Her first thought was to scurry down, but it was too likely that someone might spot her. The humiliation would be unendurable. Her only choice was simply to huddle lower and try to remain unseen. To come forward now, to risk being spotted climbing down a tree, was too horrible a thought for words.

  “Please, Miss Forsythe,” she heard. “Let us rescue you! Let us be heroes!” Laughter.

  Even if I am not discovered, she thought bitterly, my name alone shall be sufficient to provoke derision. The guests by now were making their way across the property in all directions, and Ariana watched helplessly. She held her breath whenever anyone approached the tree, but apparently it did not occur to them to actually search within it. No one had any reason to suppose she was hiding; they assumed if they only got within range of her, she would of course come forward. Only Ariana was hiding, and praying desperately that no one would find her.

  After what felt like hours, though it must only have been minutes, the party began heading en masse toward the hedgerows. From where Ariana sat she could now see that behind the hedges were more of them: it was a maze. They were thinking she had become lost in it—what a relief! She waited for the last few stragglers to leave her area, but it was with increasing impatience. She was now longing to get down. There was still a party of four making its way leisurely across the lawn in her direction. How vexing! If it were not for them, she knew she could slip down easily and be none the worse for the incident.

  As they got yet nearer, Ariana could hear the loud conversation that characterized people’s voices when they were enjoying themselves socially.

  “I say,” a gentleman proclaimed, “Why do we not truly find this missing creature? Perhaps she is a ravishing beauty, and would reward her rescuer with a kiss!” There was the overcharged gasp of a female pretending to be offended.

  “Upon my word, Hartley, but it would be the only way you could procure a kiss!”

  Ariana recognized that voice—and the enormous bonnet. Lady Covington! Ariana’s humiliation would be ten times worse if the countess discovered her. Mr. Hartley feigned offense. In an over-dry tone he objected, “I was speaking, my lady, to Mornay.”

  Mornay? Oh, goodness, not him again! But she stretched her neck to get a glimpse.

  “I say this was planned!” spat out the Countess. “Mrs. Bentley has a great desire to put forth her niece, and she is nothing but a pretty child, I tell you. A mere child! I saw her earlier.”

  “Planned? I daresay, not; Mrs. Bentley seemed wild with worry.” Mr. Hartley looked plaintively at the countess. But the second lady laughed.

  “Worry? Mrs. Bentley most decidedly wanted her niece back, yes, but to say she was worried is going a good distance from the truth.” After a meaningful pause, she added, “She was merely indignant that her niece, who is her key to invitations this year, was not forming acquaintances. In my opinion,” she added importantly, “the young lady saw an opportunity to escape her aunt’s expectations, and took it.”

  “My point exactly,” stated Mr. Hartley. “It wasn’t planned.” The foursome were still approaching and now stopped a mere ten yards from Ariana’s tree. The man named Hartley drew near Mr. Mornay.

  “What do you say, Mornay? Is the wandering Miss Forsythe in dire need of help, or has she taken a flight of fancy and wished us all to the devil?” There was silence while the others awaited his response. It was just then that the hot-tempered man chanced to glance in Ariana’s direction. The girl’s heart beat so painfully and so loudly she thought it must surely give her away. And then it didn’t matter. For Mr. Mornay, after looking at the others with an unreadable expression, glanced back toward the trees, and then right up to where she was perched, scrunched and uncomfortable, trying to make herself as small as possible.

  Ariana felt roundly humiliated. Here was his moment for revenge. First, she had stared at him rudely. She hadn’t meant to be rude, but she was sure it seemed so to him. Then, worse, she had trespassed on his property and collided into him at top speed. A dreadful shiver ran down her spine and drops of ungenteel sweat began to pop out on her forehead, despite a mild breeze.

  Meanwhile, Mr. Mornay was squinting up at her. The others, though close behind him, were speaking among themselves and failed to notice the direction of his gaze. With a drooping heart, Ariana waited for his inevitable announcement. So much for thinking of herself as the elegant newcomer. Now she would be known as the absurd one! But the announcement did not come. Thinking it would, she had unknowingly raised her chin—she would face the worst with her head high.

  Mr. Mornay turned suddenly to Hartley. “I doubt there is any need for…ahem…a hero.” At this, the ladies laughed. “And if Miss—Forsythe, did you say?—has had the sense to leave the party, I can but congratulate her.”

  “Mornay, you beast!” chided Lady Covington, from within the reaches of her enormous, plumed bonnet. The gentleman was unmoved by the reproach and made no answer except his usual haughty expression. Mr. Hartley was smiling.

  “In that case, let us escort these ladies back to the tables. I am in dire need of being rescued, myself. A touch of claret should do the trick!” They turned to go, smiling. Mr. Hartley politely held out his arm to the second lady, but to Ariana’s amusement, Mr. Mornay did not offer his arm to Lady Covington. Her reaction was to pout and hurry to him, taking his arm brassily. He looked annoyed.

  “Breathe easy, Mornay!” Her tone was loud and irked. “I have no delusions regarding your affections!” With that, they walked off.

  Mr. Mornay had seen her, Ariana was certain. Why had he not revealed her? That was probably something she would never know. As they left, no one looked back at the tree, and she felt an enormous relief. Even while they were still in view, she could wait no longer and moved to edge herself down, and then, to her horror, discovered her gown was stuck!

  She forced herself to relax, and then tried again. The resistance at the back of the gown persisted. Ariana reached as far as she could behind her, realized it was a ribbon from the back of her dress that was caught on the branch, but could not free the snagged piece. She took a deep breath and tried again, and was again without success. She felt tears coming to the surface of her eyes, but forced them away. It was all so provoking! When would this day end!

  If she tore her gown she would never hear the end of it from Aunt Bentley. And bad as that was, it
would be nothing next to the disdain that would arise when the whole party saw the result—for, with only the short spencer to wear over her dress, the torn fabric would be impossible to hide. Her legs were cramped and aching, and she was heartily sick of the tree. How foolish of her to climb it!

  Ariana made one last attempt to get the ribbon free without having to force it. She could follow the snag with her fingers only so far. She had no choice and would have to let it tear. But wait—she hadn’t thought to pray. She had breathed a prayer earlier about not being discovered, and so far God had been merciful. Mr. Mornay had seen her, but he hadn’t shared his discovery.

  Reflecting quickly on her behaviour, Ariana felt utterly unworthy of divine help. But she closed her eyes and prayed nevertheless. Thank You, Father, that I do not need to earn Your favour. Thank You for freely giving it to me in Christ. Please help me get out of this tree without tearing my gown!

  She continued praying in a low voice, her eyes still closed, ending upon the words, “Oh, help me, dear Lord!” A polite cough came from below. She looked down in astonishment and saw that someone—Mr. Mornay!—was looking up at her with a dark countenance. Her heart jumped into her throat. How could it be? How could he have returned so quickly? And, even more puzzling, why?

  Ten

  Mr. Mornay was leaning against the trunk of the tree with his arms folded as if he had been there for an age. He had thick dark hair and brows, and he was looking up at her with an inscrutable expression. He held a walking stick in his gloved right hand and Ariana felt herself blushing to the roots of her hair. He leaned the stick against the tree, removed his coat, and began making his way up toward her, saying a bit sourly, “I believe you are in need of assistance.”

  In only seconds he was beside her, and leaning past her shoulder to find the problem, lifted the piece of snagged fabric off the pointed branch that had caught it. He then let himself down to the branch beneath hers. Since Ariana’s seat was a deal higher than where he stood, their eyes were nearly level. Again she was struck by the degree of movement in his dark eyes. And as before, she detected a sense of suppressed pain in his features. But he seemed about to give her a set-down, and she poised herself to receive it, clinging to her branch.

  “Miss Forsythe, is it not?” He did not offer to introduce himself.

  Ariana nodded, and uttered a faint, “I am much obliged to you, sir.”

  He looked at her severely. “You should be. It was exceedingly foolish to leave your friends and come off alone, putting yourself in a vulnerable position. Not only young and attractive, but alone and hidden from general view!” His voice was full of disgust, as if he had never met such a stupid creature in all his life. He paused for a moment. “Are you not aware of dangers that may present themselves to careless young women like yourself?”

  Ariana’s face continued to burn. He must have noted it, but there was no softening on his features. She turned her head to avoid his eyes, now blazing with reproof, and suddenly seething indignation rose up within her. In most cases, her quick temper caused her problems. At this moment it came to her aid. She looked fully at him, meeting the raging sea of his black eyes and dared to defend herself.

  “I did not plan, sir, for this to occur!”

  “Does that signify?” His voice came out as a hiss, making it abundantly clear that to him, at least, it did not. “Has any young woman with the misfortune of being ill-used ever planned on having it so?”

  She stubbornly returned his gaze, unconvinced there had been a risk of such danger. “This is a gathering of genteel people, gentlemen—”

  “Gentlemen!” he sputtered, “are capable of the most heinous behaviour that any cove from London’s darkest corners might be! In fact,” he continued ruthlessly, “a gentleman may hazard more danger since he is least likely to suffer the penalty of law for his actions, no matter how abhorrent.” His countenance was fierce, and Ariana felt as ashamed as when her own papa had occasion to scold her.

  The logic of what he said made Ariana wonder if she had been at risk. Their eyes were in a deadlock while she weighed the idea. She could not help, again, but to be distracted by his swirling eyes, as different from the norm as hers were said to be. They were like tossing waves, changing before her, and yet not. She boldly met his blistering gaze, however, her own eyes reflective of the resentment she felt for being rudely awakened to dangers she had not imagined.

  “I will assist you down.” His voice was cold, but he was careful to hold the trunk with one hand, while receiving her firmly with his free arm as she lowered herself. The pleasant aroma of snuff greeted Ariana as he drew her closer in the rescue. Undoubtedly a fine brand. Many women, including her mama, were repulsed by its odour, but Ariana had never found it unpleasant. She and Mr. Mornay were in close proximity for only a few seconds, but it was enough for her to have the astonishing thought that not only did he look very nice, but he smelled quite nice, too.

  Still holding her about the waist, he reached up and acquired the bonnet, handed it to her, and ordered, “Wait.” He released her and let himself down to the next lower branch, again assisting her as she lowered herself. In that fashion, they made it to the ground. When Ariana was on the last branch he lifted her down with both hands.

  She immediately busied herself by brushing off her gown, delaying having to say anything to him for as long as possible. He picked her spencer and reticule off the ground where she had left them, and held them out to her. Ariana took them and offered an obligatory “Thank you.”

  She took an apprehensive glance up at him, and found that he was studying her. He said nothing, but his countenance seemed less severe than it had earlier, and she decided it was a good time to make an exit.

  “I am obliged to you, sir…and indeed, more so…if the danger you referred to was real.”

  He let out a soft gasp. “You can doubt it?”

  Ariana’s lips were pressed together stubbornly, and she pulled on her gloves with asperity. “If I did not, I could hardly enjoy the solitude I often cherish; I shan’t be the sort of female who thinks there are dangers behind every tree or rock. I should never go out alone, then. Such a confining existence that would be!”

  His countenance turned to a scowl. “Young women should not go out alone—or young men, for that matter.” She was surprised by such a sentiment, but then decided it came from residing in London, a crowded city, so unlike her own small town.

  “Perhaps I must behave differently here,” she conceded, “though at home, I assure you, young ladies do go forth alone, and think nothing of it.”

  “Perhaps they think nothing of being a lady, then.”

  Ariana had no answer for this remark and just watched as he put his coat back on. Sophia Worthington’s words, that she “adored watching” Mr. Mornay suddenly flashed in her mind, and she looked away, embarrassed. He retrieved his cane, while she attempted to smooth her gown again. There were wrinkles in it, and with a sigh she gave up, and then realized he was looking on with obvious distaste.

  “Is it that bad?” she asked.

  “That depends upon your standard,” was his evasive answer. “That’s what comes of climbing trees in afternoon dress. May I ask what you were doing in the tree?”

  She paused, giving him a curious look, but admitted, “I had no idea of climbing it until I saw what a strange, monstrous thing it was; somehow, it just seemed to…beckon to me.”

  One dark brow on the masculine face went up faintly, but he looked interested, not scornful, and she was encouraged. “And then I saw that those trunks, horizontal as they are, should make an agreeable vantage point from which to view the house.”

  “And so you climbed up,” he finished for her.

  “Yes.”

  “Right up to that high perch I found you in?”

  “Not directly; I went higher for the advantage of a better view… indeed going higher than I intended at first.” He was amused, and Ariana noticed with gratification a sparkle in the dark eyes.r />
  “So you find this property agreeable?”

  Ariana glanced around at the neat expanse of lawn and trees and sky and smiled. “I do.” Thinking his silence was disagreement, she asked, “Do you not find it so?” He looked around them, but was silent. Ariana could not help shaking her head and pointed northward. “What a fine prospect! How serene and peaceful! How good for the soul it must be to view it often.”

  She glanced at him to find that he was looking at her, not the view, but he turned obediently and looked in the direction she pointed. He nodded, but said nothing. Turning back to her, the dark eyes seemed momentarily troubled, but he quickly regained control and the look was gone.

  Ariana felt badly for him. There was something of grief in him.

  As they started walking back toward the party, Ariana spoke first. “Will you allow me to apprise my aunt of my misadventure?” Her large eyes glittered up at him questioningly.

  “You wish to inform her, then?” He was surprised.

  “I shan’t lie to her. And after having the entire company after me, I cannot think she will not ask questions.” There was a silence then, and she moaned, “Everyone shall know of my folly!”

  “What makes you suppose that?” His eyebrows rose.

  “Mrs. Bentley is hard pressed to keep anything to herself.” (Mr. Mornay, to his credit, did not so much as blink at this accurate appraisal.) “And now she will be scandalized and perhaps send me packing!” She met his eyes, her own full of resentment against the unjust persecution which she feared was forthcoming.

  He studied her, not unkindly. “Packing to where?”

  “Chesterton.”