“Would you like to wear the rose silk or the gold taffeta this evening?” Tabby pulled both dresses out for Harriett’s inspection. It hadn’t taken long for her maid to learn that Harriett did not like making decisions about what to wear, so she only ever suggested two options even though Harriett’s answer was usually the same. You decide, Tabby. I do not care in the least.
Tonight, however, Harriett did care. She wanted to look her best, and since she had received more compliments on the gold taffeta than the rose silk, she offered an opinion. “The gold one.”
Pleased surprise widened Tabby’s eyes before she nodded and pulled the gown from the wardrobe. “’Twas my first choice as well, milady. This color looks lovely on you.”
Harriett dressed quickly, and Tabby took extra care to coil her hair into the most beautiful knot with a waterfall of curls erupting from the center at the crown of her head.
Once complete, Harriett turned her head from side to side, examining the results. “Tabby, you have outdone yourself tonight. It’s beautiful.”
The maid blushed at the compliment. “You’ll take Lieutenant Jamison’s breath away tonight, make no mistake about that.”
That was precisely what Harriett hoped to do, and she appreciated Tabby even more for perceiving her desire to impress him. “Let us hope he does not forget to breathe altogether. How will I impress him if he faints at the sight of me? Perhaps I should take some smelling salts with me just in case.”
Tabby giggled and shook her head. “It’s good ter see you’ve got your pluck back, milady. After this mornin’, I worried it had gone missin’ again.”
Harriett didn’t bother denying it. Tabby knew her too well. “It feels good to have it back, Tabby. Let us pray it remains intact because I am growing weary of it going missing.”
Tabby grinned, added a gold ribbon to Harriett’s hair, and pronounced her ready. “Enjoy yourself tonight, milady.”
“Thank you, Tabby.” Harriett walked out of the room but stopped abruptly when she spotted Lieutenant Jamison lingering not far away. She felt a mild twinge in her ankle but paid it no mind. He leaned casually against the wall, looking far too handsome in a deep blue coat, buff breeches, and brown boots.
Her heart stuttered to a stop before pounding at a furious pace. How long had he been standing there and why? Had he overheard her conversation with Tabby?
Please no.
His eyes were not twinkling nor his lips threatening a grin as they usually did, so it was impossible to guess what he might be thinking. Perhaps he’d come to tell her that he’d told his parents the truth, per her request, and would be leaving for London on the morrow to begin his search for a level-headed and not-so-lively woman.
Please don’t be that either.
“Lieutenant.” Harriett nodded in greeting, watching him warily. Why was he here and not downstairs with the others?
His gaze took her in, but she couldn’t tell whether he liked what he saw or not. He seemed guarded and wary as well, as though he did not know which Harriett had greeted him—the one prone to outbursts or the lively one?
“You look beautiful,” he finally said.
She tried not to let his somber mood affect hers and forced her lips into a teasing smile. “Not breathtaking?”
His moustache did not twitch in response, nor did his eyes crinkle at the edges. He merely studied her with that worrisome wariness. “Are you well?” he asked.
She lifted her skirts slightly and gave him a peek of her ankle. “Thanks to your intriguing knowledge of medicine, I am almost as good as new. Is that why you are here? To offer to carry me down in the event that my ankle is not better? Or were you worried I’d try to come down via the tree outside my window? If that is the case, you can rest assured that I have been cured of all inclinations to climb trees in the near future.”
He smiled a little at that, but it only partially reached his eyes. “I came to offer my assistance in whichever capacity would help you the most.”
“Then I shall gladly accept the offer of your arm, sir, along with your protection. It is a long walk to the drawing room, after all, and there’s no telling what evil thing might be lurking in the shadows.”
She held out her hand, waiting for him to extend his arm, but he stayed where he was and watched her with an expression of bemusement. When at last he pushed away from the wall, he approached with caution before extending his arm.
She linked her elbow through his, and they began sauntering down the hall at a slow pace. Harriett tried to think of something witty or lively to say, but nothing came to mind and by the time they reached the top of the stairs, the silence had become unbearable.
“Say something, please,” she blurted. “You’re making me anxious.”
Chris turned and picked up one of her hands and then the other, gripping them firmly in his own. He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Before we go down, I must apologize. I am not a serious-minded person, and I often get caught up in the moment and don’t pause to consider how my words or actions might affect another. I was in the wrong this morning and am deeply sorry. Can you forgive me?” He paused. “Again?”
A warm and delicious feeling spread through Harriett. She might have been brazen enough to wrap her arms around him if Watts was not stationed at the base of the stairs. Though she held the butler in high esteem, at the moment, she wished he would remove himself to another part of the house.
She straightened the lieutenant’s cravat instead. “If I say no, will I be subjected to an evening filled with scripture on the virtues of forgiveness?”
The smile that prodded and tickled her heart at last emerged. “Most definitely.”
She grinned in return. “Then I’m afraid that my forgiveness will have to wait. I’m far too curious to see how your parents will react to your stuffy sermons. With pride, perhaps? Your mother did say she thought you were better suited to the church than to war.”
He smiled and shook his head. “Better suited? Hardly. She only hoped I’d choose the church as it would have encouraged me to mend my ways.”
“Have you mended your ways, Lieutenant?”
“I hate it when you call me that.” There was that seriousness again. It had a perplexing effect on her lungs, making them feel as though the room had suddenly become devoid of oxygen.
“Forgive me?” she whispered. “Again?”
“Forgiven.”
She smiled, but it didn’t go all the way to her eyes. “You forgive far more easily than I, it seems. Perhaps you are suited for the church after all.”
“I’d much rather be suited for…” His eyes drifted to her lips. “Something else.”
Harriett suddenly felt as though she’d just climbed the tallest staircase she had ever climbed. His fingers tightened around hers, and he leaned in close, sending a series of chills scuttling through her body.
A loud clearing of a throat sounded from below, causing Chris to close his eyes and withdraw. With a sigh, he tucked her hand under his arm once more. “Shall we go down? Jonathan has some exciting news that you will be very glad to hear. He is probably wondering what is keeping us.”
It took a moment for Harriett to make the transition from an almost kiss to Jonathan’s news, but when the words at last registered, she brightened. “Has he heard from Mr. O’Rourke then?”
Christopher chuckled. “It is his news to share, not mine.”
“Very well. I shall do my utmost to be patient.”
“If it would help, I’m certain I could find a passage of scripture on the merits of patience.”
“It would not help.”
He chuckled again, and the deep, melodious sound wrapped around Harriett’s body like an embrace. As they entered the drawing room together, she felt light, giddy, and full of optimism. Perhaps all she had needed this entire time was a change in perspective, some hope, and a little courage.
“You have come at last,” said Mrs. Jamison with a broad smile. “We were beginning to
think that Christopher had gone on a fool’s errand to fetch you down here.”
“As though I would allow Harriett to languish alone upstairs,” said Chris with a wink at her. “She is fortunate her ankle is on the mend. Otherwise, I would have been forced to carry her down, and she would have been most displeased with me.”
If he thought that, Harriett had certainly been much too sparing with her encouragement. Had he not noticed her shortness of breath or the pounding of her heart when he’d lifted her into his arms earlier? Or the way she’d clung to his neck, craving his nearness? All this time, she thought her attraction to him was so very obvious, but perhaps her attempts to conceal it had actually been effective.
Too effective, it seemed.
Harriett greeted the Biddings and inquired about Pippin’s puppies. Mrs. Bidding was quick to reply. “According to the cow leech, they will be ready to leave their mama in another week or so. Mr. Bidding and I have decided that we are willing to part with one, Lieutenant, if you would like to take it with you.”
“Or I could take it with me,” said Harriett, realizing she had probably gone too far with her teasing about the puppy. The least she could do was offer him a way out.
But he surprised her by shaking his head. “Sorry, Harriett. I had first claim on that puppy, and so it shall be mine.”
“Perhaps you can share,” suggested Mr. Jamison with a twinkle in his eyes.
Harriett felt a blush heat her face, but she didn’t bother glancing at Christopher for help. The man didn’t seem to ever feel embarrassment and had probably paid his father no mind.
Thankfully, Jonathan was kind enough to direct the attention to him. “I have some news,” he announced. “It will not mean much to most of you here, but it means a great deal to me.”
“What is it?” asked Mr. Jamison.
“I have reached an agreement with the owner of the land to the west. He has finally consented to sell me a portion of his land for an agricultural venture that I plan to begin immediately.” Jonathan slung his arm around Christopher’s shoulders and gave him a hearty pat on the back. “Without the intervention of this man here, I would have emptied my purse and acquired more land than I could ever use. I cannot thank him enough.”
Mrs. Jamison beamed at her son while Mr. Jamison began to talk about how Christopher had always been a natural negotiator. Meanwhile, Harriett stood apart from the conversation and felt her magical evening pale a little. She should not care, but it pained her that Chris had kept her part in the plan to himself. She tried to be happy for Jonathan and not care that the spotlight did not extend to her—it was unchristian to seek for accolades, after all—but the truth of the matter was that she did care. She wanted Chris to notice her—not overlook her.
Chris lifted his hands to quiet all voices. “You are extending thanks to the wrong person. It was Harriett who suggested the idea to not back down. I merely realized the brilliance of the plan and took it upon myself to convince Jonathan of it as well.”
Harriett’s mouth parted in surprise, and she felt the greatest urge to throw her arms around him.
“Of course,” Jonathan said. “You did mention Harriett’s name when you first brought the idea to my attention, didn’t you? Forgive me for not including you in my thanks, Harriett.”
“’Tis no matter,” she said dismissively, waving his thanks aside. She had eyes for only one man at that moment, and it was not Jonathan. It was the man listening to something Cora was now saying. A man who had also confided in Harriett, listened to her, and acted on a simple idea she’d had. A man whose pride did not get in the way of his integrity.
Oh, how much his simple confession had meant to her.
Harriett could deny it no longer. She was in love with Lieutenant Christopher Jamison. She loved his strengths, his sense of humor, and even his weaknesses. She loved the fact that he was imperfect like her and not afraid to admit it. She loved that he could tell her which bonnet looked well on her, allowed her to ride his horse, was well acquainted with the Bible, and knew precisely what to do with a twisted ankle.
Harriett had finally come to see what the Biddings, the Jamisons, and Cora had probably seen from the beginning. Chris complemented her in the way Jonathan complemented Cora and Colin complemented Lucy.
I adore you, she wanted to blurt.
Mrs. Jamison looked from her son to Harriett with a knowing smile and declared, “What a marvelous team the two of you make.”
Mrs. Bidding nodded fondly. “I couldn’t agree more.”
Cora nudged Harriett playfully with her elbow. “It appears as though you’ve got quite the head for business—you who thought you had no talents.”
“No ladylike ones, at any rate,” answered Harriett with a grin.
“What are you talking about?” asked Chris. “You would never behave in an unladylike fashion.”
“Under normal circumstances, no,” she said. “But I have been known to make exceptions every now and again.”
“What sort of exceptions?” asked Mrs. Bidding, her smile diminishing.
Harriett waved her hand in a flippant manner. “Oh, you know. Sneak down to the kitchen for a midnight assignation, swim in ponds, play in mud puddles, and of course, climb trees. But only on rare occasions when the mood strikes.”
Mrs. Bidding’s eyes widened while Cora burst out laughing, Jonathan grinned, and Chris pressed his lips together to keep from doing the same. Mr. and Mrs. Jamison and Mr. Bidding peered from one person to the next, obviously confused by the mixed reactions.
“You’re joking, I presume,” Mrs. Bidding finally said, her expression hopeful.
“Honestly, Mrs. Bidding, can you truly see me climbing a tree?” asked Harriett. “Ever since my unhappy encounter with the bird droppings, I have decided it is best to stay away from trees.”
“Of course you have,” said Mrs. Bidding with obvious relief. “You must forgive my doubtful nature when it comes to those residing at Tanglewood. I have often wondered if there is a mischievous spirit lurking about somewhere, encouraging all occupants to misbehave.”
“Really?” said Mrs. Jamison. “I have heard of evil spirits inhabiting some houses. Do you think there could be such a spirit here? I certainly have not felt any such temptations. Have you, dearest? Christopher?”
Watts entered the room to announce dinner, much to Harriett’s relief. She could only imagine what Chris’s answer to that question might have been, and none of them brought her any comfort. He would have likely driven Mrs. Bidding into an apoplexy, the poor woman.
Chris offered Harriett his arm, which she accepted with pleasure, and the happy group removed to the dining room for a scrumptious meal of chateaubriand steak and roasted potatoes. Together, they laughed, talked, and lifted their glasses in a toast of good things to come. Harriett shared knowing, amused, and even flirtatious glances with Chris—real glances. As far as she was concerned, their ruse had come to an end.
Following dinner, Chris suggested an evening stroll through the gardens, much to Harriett’s delight. Jonathan and Cora agreed to accompany them while the Biddings and Mr. and Mrs. Jamison opted to remain indoors. Harriett very much looked forward to a romantic stroll, hoping it would provide her and Chris with an opportunity to speak privately and perhaps sneak a kiss or two. She had it all planned out in her mind.
As soon as the foursome outfitted themselves in coats, hats, and gloves, they emerged into the beautiful, chilly night with hundreds of tiny stars sparkling above. A gust of wind caused Harriett to shiver, and she tightened her hold on Chris’s arm, snuggling as close to him as she dared.
“Are you cold? Should we go back inside?” he asked.
“No. I love it out here. If it becomes unbearable, I will let you know, but for now I would like to remain.” Harriett wouldn’t dream of going inside now, not when she was certain this was the night that would change everything between them.
As though perceiving Harriett’s wishes, Cora and Jonathan walked ahead. Lik
e a good soldier, Chris slowed his steps and directed Harriett down a path to the left, into a small, shadowed garden surrounded by high hedges of evergreen shrubs with a dormant stone fountain at its center.
Harriett inspected the garden, wishing the air was a bit warmer and spring a little more advanced. “Only think of how beautiful this garden will look in a few weeks when all the leaves emerge.”
Chris took hold of her hand and brought her around to face him. “Will you still be here when that happens?”
She wished she could say yes—it felt too magical to leave now—but after the letter she had received from her mother the day before, she had to shake her head. “I will leave at the end of next week for London. My mother has finally written to me with her plans, along with the happy news that Colin and Lucy are to accompany her with my new nephew. Lucy is in desperate need of a diversion, apparently, and seems to think that a month in London will be just the thing.”
“Are you looking forward to seeing your family?”
“Oh, yes. Lucy has become like a sister to me, and I have always been fond of Colin. My sister, Charlotte, and my brother, James, will be there as well. It has been years since we have all been together, and I’m looking forward to spending time with them again. We used to taunt and torment one another mercilessly, but we have always been close, and for that, I am very grateful.”
It seemed like a lifetime ago, so distant was the memory of those childhood years. How much the Cavendish family had changed of late—both for the better and for the worse. Colin had married Lucy, Harriett’s other brother and sister had moved away to start families of their own, and their father had passed away. She missed him dearly, especially now, when she was hoping to introduce her family to a certain Lieutenant Christopher Jamison. He would fit in well and her father would have liked him very much.
“I’m certain they are grateful for you as well,” said Chris, threading his fingers through hers and drawing her closer. “I know I’m grateful for you.”
The Pursuit of Lady Harriett (Tanglewood Book 3) Page 18