Birds are everywhere, even in London. You ought to hold on to this.
—Chris
Good grief. Did he think she had left it behind on accident? That she would treasure its return? He’d initially given it to her as a joke, for goodness’ sake. Why would she ever want to be reminded of that?
When Charlotte exclaimed, “What a lovely parasol,” Harriett had answered, “You may have it,” and left the room. Would it truly have been so difficult to write, I cannot stop thinking about you. All my love, Chris? Apparently so. Apparently he was incapable of feeling any tender emotions whatsoever. It was a good thing he was so handsome. Otherwise he would never have any hope of wooing a wife.
That evening, when Harriett said she would be unable to attend Almack’s because her head ached, it was the truth. The others went ahead without her, and Harriett cursed the lieutenant’s name yet again.
On Wednesday, a footman walked into the drawing room bearing a large cake slathered in cream frosting. All conversation paused when he stopped near Harriett. Not far away, the butler cleared his throat. “Forgive our intrusion, my lady, but I was told this needed to be presented to you right away.”
If the lieutenant had wanted to cause a stir, he couldn’t have timed the arrival of the cake with more precision. The Duchess of Chamberlain and her daughter had called, along with Lady Dawson, Sir Richard, Mr. Hedgewick, and Lord Weston. With her mother, Lucy and Colin, and Charlotte also in attendance, the room had never felt more crowded.
All eyes watched Harriett as she accepted the accompanying note from the butler.
This will always remind me of the night you pursued me of your own volition. And at midnight, no less.
—Chris
Harriett immediately closed her hand over the note and prayed no one had been peering over her shoulder as she read it. A furious blush heated her cheeks as she frantically tried to think of an explanation. Who gifts an entire cake to a woman? Not a person in their right mind, that was for certain. And now Harriett was left with the task of coming up with an explanation that would not be carried to every other drawing room in London by the day’s end.
That man!
She forced a smile to her lips. “Thank you, Peters. It looks even lovelier than I expected, although it wasn’t supposed to arrive until later this afternoon. I had planned to surprise, er… Charlotte with it tonight as a thank you gift for being such a gracious hostess.”
“Truly?” Charlotte had the presence of mind to appear delighted, bless her soul. “What a wonderful surprise, and one that certainly cannot wait until this evening. Peters, please take the cake to the kitchen and direct cook to serve it with the tea.”
“Very good, my lady.”
“You are all in for a real treat,” said Harriett. “That particular flavor of cake is nothing short of divine.”
“Where did it come from?” asked Lady Dawson, eyeing Harriett’s closed hand with speculation.
“Why, Mrs. Jamison’s talented cook, of course. She is quite renowned for her cakes.” Harriett could only hope the woman did indeed have a knack for baking. She was about to be inundated with requests for her recipes, and it was all the lieutenant’s doing.
On Thursday, a large box arrived for Harriett. Inside was a new pelisse made from a rich, golden-brown that was lined with the softest fur. Her mother, Lucy, and Charlotte oohed and awed over it while Harriett read the accompanying note to herself.
I shall never not see you again.
—Chris
She had to read it twice to assure herself that she had not imagined or misinterpreted the words. As her eyes skimmed over it a third time, a delicious warmth radiated from the crown of her head to the tips of her toes. Why could Christopher not have started with this note? She would never have cursed his name if he had.
“I take it this gift pleased you?” said Lucy with a sly smile. “Or was it his note? When will we get to finally meet this lieutenant of yours?”
“Oh, he is not mine,” Harriett said quickly, though she was beginning to wonder if he would ever appear instead of a gift and a card. How she craved to see his handsome face again.
“Nonsense,” Charlotte said. “Any man who sends a posy, a parasol, a delicious cake, and a new pelisse is most certainly yours. At least he’d better be. If not, such gifts would be most unseemly.”
Harriett refrained from informing them that the lieutenant was rarely seemly. It was a trait she both adored and despised.
On Friday, an invitation arrived addressed to Lady Harriett Cavendish and Family. She knew right away who’d sent it because her name had been spelled correctly. With trembling fingers, she broke the seal to find an invitation to Lady Carlyle’s musicale that very evening—the same invitation that Charlotte had declined the week prior because her husband had surprised everyone with coveted tickets to see the renowned Farinelli perform at The King’s Theater. Did Christopher know Lady Carlyle? Why would he arrange to have another invitation sent? Surely, Lady Carlyle had received Charlotte’s reply—or had she?
With a frown, Harriett turned the invitation over, surprised to see a few scribbled words on the other side.
Please come.
—Chris
Harriett’s heart lurched as she traced the letters with her finger, feeling torn. While she yearned to see him again, her brother-in-law had gone to a great deal of trouble and expense to procure the opera tickets. Not only that, but her mother, Lucy, and Charlotte had talked of nothing else for days. Harriett could never ask them to forgo such an opportunity and accompany her to an amateur musicale. But Harriett could not bring herself to decline Chris’s invitation either, not when her heart still held onto a sliver of hope. Perhaps she could attend with one of her friends instead?
With hesitation, Harriett showed the invitation to the rest of her family, hoping they would understand why she could no longer go with them to the opera. Much to her surprise, Charlotte grinned. “Of course you must go to the musicale, and of course we will accompany you. It’s past time we meet this mysterious and romantic lieutenant of yours. How silly of you to even contemplate going without us.”
The others nodded in agreement, and without any signs of regret or hesitation, Charlotte penned a message to Lady Carlyle, saying they would be able to attend after all. Another message was sent to a close friend, asking if she would be able to use eight tickets to the opera.
Tears dampened Harriett’s eyes as her family rallied around her. She had never felt more touched, loved, or grateful for their support. The fact of the matter was that she had no desire to face Christopher alone, and now she wouldn’t have to.
When the time came to dress for the musicale, Harriett slipped into a soft and silky blue gown chosen by her mother, Lucy, Charlotte, and Tabby, all of whom agreed that it matched her eyes perfectly. Once Tabby had finished with the buttons, Harriett smoothed her hands nervously across the fabric. “What do you think? Do I look ravishing enough to tempt the lieutenant?”
Her mother smiled. “You will tempt every man in attendance tonight, my dear.”
“You look beautiful,” added Charlotte and Lucy at the same time.
Harriett’s fingers tangled in the folds of her skirts as she swallowed. “I’m so nervous.”
“Why?” asked Charlotte. “The man has all but declared himself.”
Little did any of them know that he had declared himself, just not in a way that Harriett could accept. Would tonight be any different, or would she come away disappointed and shattered once more? She did not think her heart could withstand any more pain.
“Why does he wish to meet me at a musicale, do you think?” asked Harriett, giving voice to some of her worries. “We will not be able to converse much, there will be no opportunities to speak privately, and with Lady Carlyle hosting, it is sure to be a crush. Surely a ball or calling on me here would have been a better plan.”
“I’ll admit to having the same thought, but it only adds to the mystery of it, don’t you thi
nk?” said Lucy.
“Perhaps.” Harriett didn’t know why she still held onto any expectations with regard to the lieutenant. It wasn’t as though he had ever done or said what she thought he ought to. She needed to come to terms with that and either accept him back in her life or walk away for good.
“I know why he chose the musicale,” said Charlotte. “Don’t you remember last season? Mrs. Jamison and Lady Carlyle are the closest of friends. The Jamisons always stay with her when they are in town, so it was an easy thing for the lieutenant to procure another invitation for you.”
“That’s right,” agreed their mother. “I had forgotten about that.”
Harriett nodded as well, but her mind had moved beyond speculation and to the musicale. What did the lieutenant plan to do or say? Would he greet her when she arrived? Sit by her during the performance? Would he make his intentions towards her known and possibly even whisk her away at some point for a few moments of privacy?
No, she could not think such thoughts or she would certainly be disappointed. He was probably only testing the waters to see if she would talk to him again.
Harriett picked up her wrap and swung it around her shoulders with renewed determination. She would go, she would speak to him again, and she would erase all expectations, opinions, and desires from her mind. It was the only thing she could do.
CHRISTOPHER STOOD ON THE outskirts of the crowd, conversing with a mother and her pretty young daughter with only half an ear. He had been in London for only a week, but he’d already met far too many painfully shy or flirtatious debutantes. This particular one happened to be the latter. Highly proficient in the art of fan waving and not much else, it didn’t take long for Christopher to determine that she ought to have applied herself more to the improvement of her mind than fan acrobatics.
“You must be so very brave if you are a lieutenant,” she said, batting her eyelashes above the ridges of her gold fan.
Christopher had no idea what his title had to do with bravery. “All those under my command were brave as well,” he said.
“Of course,” she simpered. “But you must have appeared so commanding atop your horse.”
“I was a lieutenant in the navy, Miss Temple.”
“Yes, I know.” She frowned as though she did not know what that had to do with anything.
Her mother cleared her throat. “Naval officers command ships, not horses, dearest.”
Miss Temple’s cheeks took on a rosy hue, and the waving of her fan became more rapid. “I see.”
Christopher wasn’t sure that she did. Perhaps he should leave her to be coached a little more by her mother. He opened his mouth to make his excuses, but closed it abruptly when he caught sight of Harriett stopping to greet his parents and the Carlyles in her graceful way. She wore a shimmering azure dress that hugged her figure in the most alluring way, and he could almost smell the scent of orange blossoms from where he stood.
Harriett said something that made all those around her smile, and Christopher suddenly wished that she was at his side instead of Miss Temple. Harriett knew the difference between the army and the navy, she understood that all men who fought were brave, and she did not need a fan to secure his attention. She drew it from everyone around her simply by being the multi-faceted woman he’d come to love and admire. She could be witty, silly, courageous, strong, determined, prideful, vulnerable, and kind. It's what made her so interesting, so complex, so… captivating. Add to that her beauty, and Christopher wondered if he could ever be deserving of her affections.
Could any man?
She turned from her hosts, and her intelligent eyes scanned the room, stopping when they found his. Her body stilled, and her mouth fell open ever so slightly. An almost palpable connection passed between them, tugging on Christopher with a very real force. How had he ever let her slip away?
“Excuse me,” he said to Mrs. Temple, realizing belatedly that he had interrupted her. She would probably think him quite rude, but he didn’t care at the moment. He moved forward, dodging and eluding people until he stood before Harriett.
She watched him, saying nothing.
“Thank you for coming,” he said, feeling like a dolt for not coming up with something better than that.
She nodded and gestured to the woman at her side. “Lieutenant Jamison, I would like you to meet my mother, the dowager Countess of Drayson.”
Her mother’s dark hair was beginning to gray, but she was still quite beautiful with Harriett’s same defined cheekbones and blue eyes. He bowed low over her hand. “It is good to meet you, my lady. Harriett has spoken of you often.”
“All good things, I hope,” she replied.
“Of course.”
Harriett turned to her left and began more introductions. “This is my brother and his wife, Lord and Lady Drayson, my sister, Lady Charlotte and her husband, Mr. Baxter, and my other brother, the Honorable James Cavendish and his wife, Lady Arabella.”
Christopher bowed to each in turn. “How wonderful. You’ve brought your entire family.”
“How could I not?” she asked. “It is not every day one receives two invitations for the same event.”
“Yes. Well, you declined the first one.”
“Only because Mr. Baxter had procured tickets for us to see Farinelli tonight.”
Christopher’s eyes widened at this news. She had to be jesting, surely. He glanced over the many faces of her family for hints of a smile, but they all watched him expectantly, as though waiting for him to pull a tropical bird from his sleeve—one that could sing better than Farinelli.
Sadly, he was no magician. “Please tell me you did not give up those tickets to come here tonight.” he said at last.
Harriett leaned forward and placed a hand on his arm. “That is precisely what we did, Lieutenant. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we should like to secure our seats here before there are none left to be had.”
A feeling of unease filled Christopher’s stomach. Devil take it. This was merely an amateur musicale with only one group of professionals hired to perform the final number—none of whom could come close to competing with Farinelli.
As Harriett glided away with her mother, Christopher touched a finger to his forehead, feeling a sudden headache coming on. Good gads. The family he hoped to one day call his own would never forgive him for this.
Lord Drayson patted him on the shoulder as he passed. “Not to worry, Lieutenant. I’m certain you will see to it that we are delighted by this evening’s performances.”
“Agreed,” said Lady Charlotte as she walked by on the arm of her husband.
The Honorable James chortled, stopping next to Christopher and lowering his voice. “If it is any consolation, I was glad for the excuse to avoid the theater tonight. I do so hate the opera. All that wailing gives me a headache.”
“How can you say such things?” chided Lady Arabella. “Farinelli is a wonder.”
“You are the wonder, my love, and the only reason I was willing to attend the opera tonight.”
Such a comment earned him a pleased smile from his wife, along with a charming tap of her fan on his arm. As they moved to join the rest of their family, Christopher wished he would have met James sooner and taken a lesson or two from him. Perhaps if he had, he would not feel it necessary to do what he was about to do tonight.
With one last lingering glance at Harriett’s back, he went to join his parents and the Carlyles.
By the time intermission arrived, Harriett felt weak and lightheaded. She should have forced herself to eat something earlier, but the mere thought of food had set her stomach on edge. She rubbed her clammy hands against the cool silk of her skirts, wondering where Chris had gone and why he hadn’t taken the vacant seat at her side. Surely, he did not plan to say only a few words to her and leave it at that, did he?
Drat the man.
Harriett refused to search the room for him, but that did not stop her from eyeing the double doors leading out to a balcony with incr
easing desperation. She had been able to keep a cool head when she’d spoken to him earlier, but she had felt anything but cool. It didn’t take long before she felt her composure begin to slip and so she had quickly made her excuses, needing a moment to catch her breath.
She needed another one of those moments now. The balcony called to her, and Harriett stood, knowing that if she did not step outside at once she might faint.
“I’ll be back in a moment,” she said to her mother before dodging several people and making her escape. She soon learned that she wasn’t the only guest in need of fresh air—several others were already scattered around, talking and laughing. Harriett quickly located an empty spot along the balustrade and went there, leaning against it as she gulped in air. Despite her determination to come with no expectations, she knew precisely what she wanted most, and she was frightened to death of leaving without it.
Heavy footsteps sounded behind her, and Harriett froze. Had Chris followed her out here? Was she ready to speak to him alone? Would he see the fear in her eyes and the trembling of her limbs?
“You look as though you could use a drink,” said Colin, appearing at her side. He held out a glass to her, which she accepted gratefully and drank all at once, hoping it would settle her stomach and ease her anxiousness.
Her brother took the empty glass from her and set it on one of the pillars. “Are you well?” he asked.
“No,” Harriett answered honestly. “I feel as though I have wagered all of my funds on a man who is bound to disappoint me. Why? Why have I come tonight? I feel ill.” Queasiness took hold of her stomach, and she placed her hand over it in an attempt to calm it. “I should have sipped that drink and not guzzled it.”
Colin leaned forward, resting his elbows on the balustrade, and looked out over the gardens. “I don’t know exactly what has occurred between you and Lieutenant Jamison, but I cannot imagine he’d go to such great lengths to see that you came tonight if he intended to disappoint you.”
The Pursuit of Lady Harriett (Tanglewood Book 3) Page 20