by Lavinia Kent
Chapter 10
“The house party begins this Saturday? Why did you not say so?” Angela glanced at her mother with a strong sense of foreboding. She had not been happy about the party to begin with, but it had seemed far off in the future, not something that she must prepare herself for immediately. And now that Swanston had seen her face, who knew what could happen—although perhaps he had not recognized her. That was not unlikely. He had never known her as more than one in a crowd.
“I am sure I did, dear. You probably were not listening,” her mother replied, before turning to instruct the maid on what needed to be packed.
Angela was equally sure that she had been. She might not always listen as intently as possible to her mother’s ramblings, but she would not have missed something as important as the fact that they were leaving in a few days. And what of Colton? Did he know Swanston had seen her? And how could they possibly proceed if she was not going to be in Town? At least she would be seeing him tomorrow morning and would have the chance to explain the matter to him. “And how long will we be staying at Lady Perse’s? Did you tell me that?”
“Of course I did. I would never leave out such important information. A week. One perfect week in the country. And at such a lovely time of year. Perhaps the leaves will even begin to turn. I do love the country when the harvest is in and there is a sense of relaxation in the air. I remember when I was a girl; your grandfather always had the most wonderful party to celebrate all the work being done. Cook made my favorite mince pies and I would eat myself sick. It was the only time she made mince pies other than Christmas.”
If her mother started reciting the recipe, Angela would scream. Her own worries were great enough without listening to the wonders of her grandfather’s cook’s mince pies one more time. And her mother always ended with repeating the recipe, although Angela wasn’t sure she’d ever actually stepped foot in the kitchen.
“Two cups of raisins and one of currants, red ones. Cook always said that was the secret—and if she could get them, some fresh gooseberries. I don’t know how she managed so late in the year, but it always made all the difference. And strong black molasses.” Her mother smacked her lips in a most unladylike manner. “I can taste them now.”
“And why don’t you instruct our cook to make them? I’m sure she’d be happy to prepare a dish that you love so much.”
A cloud blocked the sunlight pouring in the window, and for the briefest of moments her mother’s face fell into shadow. “I don’t know that I’d like that. And, besides, it is a secret recipe. I promised not to share it when Grandfather’s cook told me.”
Angela was quite sure that the purpose of the promise had been not to share the recipe between households, not to keep it only to herself, or what was the purpose in sharing at all? Angela was convinced that even when her mother was a child it had been clear that she was not of a truly domestic bent. “Then the recipe will be lost.”
“Nonsense, Angela. I am certain that you must know it by now. I’ve told it to you a couple of times, and you do have a retentive memory.”
More like a couple of dozen times, but that seemed beside the point. “Maybe sometime I’ll try repeating it back to you, and you can tell me if I have it right.”
“What a wonderful idea. But now we must concentrate on what you should bring to Lady Perse’s. You’ll need several day dresses, a couple that are appropriate for formal dinner, and one, maybe two, ball gowns. I wonder if I should find a way to inquire whether Lady Perse will have dancing on the first and last nights or just the last—or what if she wants to dance every night? It is always so troubling when one doesn’t know. One likes to be prepared, and gowns do take so much space in the luggage, and your father is always insistent that I don’t need carts for my trunks. Men have it so much easier. Their clothing simply does not take up the same amount of space. I think your father’s whole wardrobe takes up less space than one properly packed gown, and you know I do insist on proper packing. A gown is never the same if it is squished and crunched. The wrinkles never come out properly, no matter how it is ironed or how much starch is used.”
And this too was an old tale. Next her mother would begin to discuss how many extra bonnets and slippers she could bring if she needed to bring only one gown. And Angela could only hope she did not start on bringing one’s own hair irons as opposed to borrowing those of her host.
“And we will not even talk about straw hats. A lady does need a proper straw bonnet in the country, even when summer is past. There is nothing more lovely than a young lady with russet ribbons on her bonnet as the weather turns cold. Do you have any russet ribbons? I think we got you some last year, but then everyone was wearing that shade of dark blue and I am not sure that we ever used them. I will have to ask Maggie. I do think you need some russet ribbons. And do you have a gown with russet? No, I don’t think you do. But if we added some ribbon to that forest-green one, it would look most splendid, so autumnal. And you do want to look your best. Men like a woman who makes the effort. Even a plain girl is so much prettier if one can tell that she cares.”
Angela leaned forward and kissed her mother’s cheek. “Why don’t you pack for me? You’ve always understood what suits me far better than I know myself. And you can add any ribbons you like.”
“I believe you are trying to get out of the task,” her mother answered with a gentle smile.
“You do know me too well. But I know that even if I do it myself with Maggie, you will simply undo it and redo it anyway. No matter what I pack, it will be what you want that ends up in my trunks.”
Her mother patted her hand. “Just don’t tell your father how many trunks I pack.”
“Won’t he see for himself?”
“Oh, he’s not coming with us. He may show up at the end of the week, but he has things to do in Town.”
Probably a few afternoons at the club with the papers and a good bottle of brandy. Maybe a visit to his tailor to order two more of the same hunting coats he’d purchased last season. “So it will be just you and me? How wonderful. Perhaps we can spend an afternoon walking through the fields together. I used to love that when I was a child, and I hear that Lady Perse’s estate is quite beautiful.”
“I am sure you won’t have time for me. There will be plenty of eligible young men wanting your attention.” Her mother stopped and turned to Angela, her face suddenly serious. “Although I do remember those walks. Do you remember how tired you would be at the end? Always wanting to be carried.”
“And then you would dare me to beat you home, and off I’d run.”
“You had such a sense of adventure. Perhaps you’ll find it again once we are in the country.”
“I think I am finding quite enough adventures in London.” And it was a good thing her mother didn’t know how true that was.
“I am not sure that’s true. You’ve been so lackluster recently, although you have seemed more yourself these last few days.” Her mother reached out and patted her cheek. “And once we get you to the country and those eligible men, I am sure that you will be back to your old shining self.”
Angela held in a sigh. After several years on the marriage mart, Angela had very little interest in eligible young men. Perhaps that was why she’d fixated on Lord Colton. It would be so wonderful to have the whole thing over and done with, so that she could move on to the next phase of life. Managing an estate and raising children might not be the most exciting life, but she rather thought it would suit her. Well, suit her as long as the man suited her as well. And wasn’t that the problem with the whole thing?
Maybe she could find one of those husbands who wanted to spend the whole year in Town while she stayed in the country. Oh, she’d enjoy coming for a week or two during the season, and he could come to the country for hunting and Christmas. A family should be together for Christmas.
And that was all assuming Swanston either hadn’t recognized her or didn’t talk. She should probably be more worried but for some reason
was not. She didn’t discount the episode, but somehow she was quite sure that Swanston was one of those who would never talk about what he saw at Madame Rouge’s.
“You have the strangest look on your face, dear daughter. I do hope you are not coming down with something. It would never do to have a red nose this week. Men are not fond of dripping nostrils.”
“I am fine, Mother. I was just thinking that I’d rather enjoy actually running an estate.”
“You mean managing the house while your husband or his manager runs the estate.”
She did not bother to correct her mother. Some arguments could not be won and were therefore not worth having. And if her husband was in London while she resided in the country, then she would have to be sure she understood how to manage the lands. She wondered what Lady Perse did. The woman had been on her own for at least a decade, and from everything Angela had heard, her estates were some of the finest in the land. She almost certainly had a manager, but that didn’t mean that she didn’t keep an eye on things as well. Angela couldn’t imagine Lady Perse not knowing the details of anything she was responsible for, and that would include her estates.
And then there was Ruby. Angela wasn’t quite sure why the madame came to mind, but she obviously was busy managing her business. Yes, there was no reason that Angela couldn’t send a husband to Town while she took care of things in the country.
Well, there was what the husband wanted, of course. But that was one more thing to be managed. Her mother had often said that men didn’t really know what they wanted until they were told.
Angela wasn’t quite sure she believed that, but it was a nice way to think.
It made the whole prospect of marriage much less frightening. It was hard to imagine giving herself, body and soul, to a man, but if she was the one actually doing the managing, then it would be so much easier. And she was beginning to think the body part wasn’t so bad. It was the soul that frightened her. It hadn’t been that way when she was younger, but recovering from Colton was harder than she had imagined. If he could wound her as he had, could she ever really trust again? Perhaps that was what she was seeking in her game, not only vengeance but understanding. If she understood why she had trusted him—why she still wanted to trust him—then maybe she truly could put it all behind her.
“You’re getting that strange look again.” Her mother reached out to touch her brow. “At least you don’t feel hot. A fever would never do. We would have to cancel our visit. I think you should go to bed, and I’ll have Cook make you a nice toddy just to be sure. That will help strengthen you.”
And make her sleep the rest of the afternoon away. And then she’d be up all night. “No, I’ll be fine. Truly I will. Perhaps I should walk in the park. A little air might be precisely what I need.”
“I’ve never been sure about fresh air. It is fine for gentlemen, but we women are such fragile creatures.”
Her mother could be scatterbrained, but she was about as fragile as a plow ox—and Angela was her daughter. “I am sure it is just what I need. And that way you can pack all my trunks in peace. If I am lying abed, then you’ll wake me whenever you send the maid in for something new.”
“I suppose you are right, and packing properly is so important. Hurry along now.” Her mother waved her from the room and Angela gratefully made her escape into the cool autumn sunshine.
—
“What a pretty little mare!” Angela exclaimed when she returned from her walk and found the horse that had been left while she was out.
“And not a bit spirited,” the groom answered.
Angela knew that many would see this as a fault, but she was delighted that Colton had taken her at her word, had not tried to make her ride a more spirited beast. She didn’t mind riding, but she had never understood horses—or, really, animals of any kind. Kittens were cute. Hounds were useful. She had no grasp on why anyone would indulge in the new fashion of exotic pets. A monkey? No, thank you.
She supposed a bird would not be bad. She rather enjoyed their gentle chatter.
“Would you like to change and give her a ride about the yard? I understand she’s here for a few days.”
“No, I’ll wait until morning to ride. And I would think she’ll be here until Mother and I leave on Saturday. I am sure she’ll be picked up again after that.” She would have to talk to Colton and make sure that he understood the mare could only be a brief loan. Anything longer would arouse question. Even the few days might bring her father knocking on her bedroom door, wanting to know why she needed a mare. But as he’d always tried to encourage her to ride more, maybe she would be lucky and he would think that she was considering bringing one of their horses up from the country.
And it wasn’t as if Colton would possibly consider giving her the horse as a gift. He certainly understood, as well as she, that letting her borrow the sweet creature for a few days was one thing; giving her to her for more would…She snorted at the thought, and the horse snorted in return.
“Does she have a name?” she asked.
“LadyBelle, I am told. And she surely is a lady. A better-behaved little mare I’ve never seen.”
“You sound almost as if you’re trying to sell her to me.”
“Sorry, my lady. I just like seeing you show an interest in the horses.”
She supposed that made sense. “Well, I’ll be taking her out in the morning. I understand an escort should arrive early. If I am not out already, have me sent for.” The directions seemed unnecessary—what else would the groom do?—but it was better to be safe than sorry. The last thing she needed was for her father to be awakened early.
She rubbed the mare’s nose one last time and turned to head back into the house. Hopefully her mother would be done with the packing and would not have too many more questions for her.
—
Was she coming, Colton wondered? He should have headed over with Miss Pratcher. He smiled to himself at finding such a perfect escort. Miss Pratcher was Lady Perse’s companion and a stickler for observing propriety. She was, however, also an avid horsewoman and would be more than happy to ride ahead—although not so far ahead that she couldn’t keep an eye on them. But, then, an eye he didn’t mind. The ears were the problem. He certainly didn’t intend to partake in any illicit activity in the park during daylight. He only wanted a chance to talk with Angela and figure out what the next step for them was, assuming there was one. He’d heard about Angela’s encounter with Swanston from Simms and had to be sure that Angela had not been scared off. He smiled to himself at the thought. How had he gone from trying to frighten her off to being concerned that she would not wish to continue? At least Swanston would not talk. The man was more close-lipped about Madame Rouge’s than anyone.
And with Miss Pratcher here, no one could find anything to gossip about in this morning’s ride. Miss Pratcher would report all that she saw to Lady Perse, but Lady Perse would hear anyway. He’d never been quite sure how she did it, but the lady had better intelligence than an army general.
And if she knew nothing torrid had happened, then so would the world.
There was, of course, the risk that their morning ride would be seen as the renewal of his courtship. It would be a slender path to walk, but he’d been practicing for years. A ride in the park would indicate interest but no more, and with Miss Pratcher watching he could be sure that nothing but the truth would be reported. And he’d make very sure the truth gave no indication of romance.
The light clatter of hooves echoed on the path behind him, and he turned to see the two ladies trotting up—Miss Pratcher looking resigned to the slow pace, and Angela appearing to think they were traveling at about twice the necessary speed. She had been quite honest when she said she was not a brilliant horsewoman. He was glad he had trusted her word and sent such a gentle ride.
“Good morning,” he said, tipping his hat. “We do have a most beautiful day.”
“It’s always a good day when one has a fine ride between
one’s legs,” Miss Pratcher spoke up.
He stared at her briefly. She could not have meant what it sounded like. Women such as Miss Pratcher did not engage in double entendre. “A gallop about the park is always a lovely way to start the day,” he replied, thinking nothing could be read into that.
“I doubt I’ll get much of a gallop,” Miss Pratcher answered, glancing back at Angela.
“I am sorry,” Angela said, not missing the glance. “I do wish I could oblige you, but you’re likely to spend your time picking me up off the ground if I go faster than this.” She patted LadyBelle’s neck. “And I am not sure that LadyBelle goes faster. She seems to move at slow and slower.”
“And you are not a bit sorry,” Colton added, hoping that Angela took the comment in the genial manner it was intended.
“No, I am not, but as Miss Pratcher has indicated, she would prefer a faster pace. I am quite content for the two of you to go ahead if you wish,” Angela said. “I am sure that even with my warnings you thought you’d move faster than this.”
Why was she saying such a thing? The whole purpose of this meeting was to allow them to make arrangements. Or was she trying to give him a chance to…“I am quite happy to keep you company, but you are correct, we should not hold Miss Pratcher back.” He turned and met Miss Pratcher’s calculated gaze. “If we promise to stay on the straight path and not turn in to the trees, you should be able to see us from just about anywhere—and see the regular distance between our steeds. I would think that should satisfy any questions.”
Miss Pratcher held his eyes for a moment, understanding what he wanted and knowing that it did stretch her role as chaperone. He could see her desire for a true ride struggle with her duties.
“I do promise, on my word as a gentleman, to do nothing that would in any way diminish your sense of duty and obligation. We will do nothing but let our horses walk while we talk.”
“And you will keep your horses on the main path?”
“Yes. I may have many faults, but dishonesty has never been one of them.”