Harry agreed. ‘Indeed it would. And Olivia would love it.’
The Earl considered this. ‘It might be good for Olivia to test her wings here at Chadcombe before she debuts in London next year... But still, I am conscious of the burden Great-Aunt Clara carries in being hostess. She assures me all is well, but to ask her to organise a ball on top of her existing duties...’
Grove intervened again. ‘I am aware, my lord, that Miss Langley is receiving assistance already. From one of the guests.’
Harry and Adam both looked surprised. ‘One of the guests?’ asked Harry. ‘Who?’
‘Miss Wyncroft, I believe, has been advising and supporting her. The staff all speak highly of her. A most excellent female, I understand.’
‘Miss Wyncroft!’ The Earl stood, lost in thought for a moment. ‘A ball here...away from London...a private ball... There should be no objection to all of the guests taking part...’
Here was the perfect opportunity to do something for Charlotte. He could not forget how she had been left out of all the London parties by her hard-hearted aunt.
He grinned. ‘Very well. Let’s do it. We shall hold a ball—my first Chadcombe ball.’
‘Capital!’ said Harry. ‘I shall leave you to make the arrangements.’
‘Harry!’ called the Earl, as his brother turned to go.
‘Yes?’
‘Say nothing of this. I shall enjoy Olivia and Miss Buxted’s campaign to...er...persuade me.’
* * *
The next day dawned bright and dry, with hints of blue sky amid fluffy clouds. Miss Buxted was in high alt, and was driving everyone to distraction. No fewer than five dresses were rejected before she finally settled on a half-dress of jonquil and white striped percale, with gathered Mameluke sleeves and a high poke bonnet.
Flint had already attended Mrs Buxted, who had gone downstairs, leaving the three young ladies to finish their preparations in Henrietta’s room. The housemaid now returned with hot water and curling irons. The irons had had to be heated in the kitchen fire, as the oven was to be mended today.
‘Now, miss,’ said Flint, ‘let me do your side curls.’
‘Make them perfect, Flint,’ said Henrietta. ‘If I am in an open carriage I should not wish for the wind to blow my curls out.’
‘Do you travel in an open carriage today?’ asked Flint. ‘I understand the closed coach will also be used.’
‘There will be three carriages,’ said Henrietta. ‘I wonder which one I should choose. In the closed coach I can avoid the sun and the wind, but I shall be stuck with only the dull people to talk to—for I believe some of the gentlemen are to ride alongside us.’
‘What about the open carriage?’
‘Well, I would if I was sure my hair would not be ruined, for I could converse more naturally with Lord—with the gentlemen. I will travel in the curricle, because at least that is more exciting than a boring landau. Captain Fanton will drive the curricle.’
Charlotte had noted Henrietta’s reference to the Earl. She was clearly planning to reignite his interest in her. She dreaded having to spend the day watching them.
‘The day promises sunshine,’ said Flint, ‘so you may need a parasol. It will also protect you from the wind.’
‘An excellent notion! Faith, I shall take your parasol, for it will match this dress perfectly.’
Faith looked mutinous, but said nothing.
‘Where do you travel today? Where is your destination?’
‘Oh, I don’t know. Some old ruins, I think. Do stop, Flint! That is enough.’
Faith was helping Charlotte with the sleeve buttons on a handsome day-dress of pale green muslin. Faith was already dressed, in a pale blue figured muslin with a neat flounce. Both ladies were ready, and in no need of Flint’s assistance. They donned light spencers, rather than pelisses, as the weather looked so promising.
Charlotte forgot her reticule, and had to return to her own room for it, so was last to arrive downstairs.
Outside was a scene of glorious chaos, with three carriages and a number of riding horses taking up space in front of the house. A groom in full livery was assisting Miss Langley into the coach, where Mrs Etherington was already seated.
Millicent was sitting primly in a dashing raised curricle, twirling a pretty pink parasol, with Captain Fanton beside her. She looked decidedly smug, and was clearly enjoying her perch—in the carriage that Henrietta had wanted to travel in. Millicent had won that particular battle, having taken less time over her toilette and gotten there first.
Lady Olivia, the Earl and Mr Foxley were mounted on fine horses. The Earl, Charlotte noticed, was on the same stallion he’d had in London. His attire of buckskins, gleaming hessians and a well-fitted brown redingote showed off his fine figure to advantage. And his horse was magnificent. Charlotte felt a pang, wishing she could ride her beloved Andalusia today. But Lusy was in London, so she must sit sedately in a carriage.
Of the other gentlemen, Mr Buxted was not to travel—preferring a more sedentary day filled with reading and sleeping and enjoying a home-cooked nuncheon—and Mr Etherington—looking dazzling in puce pantaloons with a salmon waistcoat and his usual high starched collar—had had the sense to wear outdoor boots with a low heel. They gleamed with a glossy shine and had golden tassels which swung as he walked. He and Reverend Sneddon would join the ladies in travelling by carriage, neither being comfortable on horseback.
Seats in the carriages were filling up. Reverend Sneddon looked hopefully at Charlotte as he entered the closed coach. Charlotte—reminded of a mournful puppy—studiously ignored him, and the final seat was taken by Mrs Buxted.
Henrietta was being handed into the landau, muttering under her breath. Hubert and Faith were already seated on the large front-facing bench. Instead of sitting between them, Henrietta stood, looking steadily at Hubert. Belatedly realising his error, Hubert jumped out of the seat as if shot.
‘My dear Miss Buxted! You shall have this seat and I shall sit here.’
He moved to sit in the single rear-facing seat, telling her he preferred it since it allowed him the pleasure of gazing at her angelic face. That seemed to be what he was trying to say, anyway. The words did not emerge with any sequence or fluency. Flustered, he stopped halfway through, realising his angel was not listening.
Henrietta was trying to open her parasol in the limited space. She spoke curtly to her sister, who was beside her.
‘Faith! Do move to the corner so I can use my parasol.’
With a cross look, Faith moved as far as she could into the corner. The sun broke through for the first time just as Henrietta succeeded in opening her parasol.
After a quick scan of all the carriages, Charlotte approached to join her cousins. The other carriages were now full, and there was easily space for her to sit between Henrietta and Faith.
Henrietta disagreed. ‘Charlotte, you must sit in one of the other carriages—for there is no room left in this one, as you can see.’
‘The other carriages are full, Henrietta. This is the only space left.’
‘But you will crumple my dress. And I need to keep my parasol opened, for this sunshine might ruin my complexion.’ Her chin set mutinously.
Charlotte stood, uncertain. If she persisted Henrietta might make a scene. Yet there were no other seats free. Perhaps she should stay at the house with Mr Buxted...
‘Miss Wyncroft!’ The Earl approached on his tall stallion. ‘Might I make a suggestion?’
Charlotte looked up at him, her heart suddenly pounding. She had managed to avoid conversation with him since the incident in the woods yesterday; this was the first time they had spoken directly since then. She squirmed uncomfortably, overwhelmed by a combination of anger, hurt and sheer mortification.
‘If you have brought your habit, you ma
y ride. My sister Olivia has a second horse which you might find to your liking. I am sure she would not mind.’
‘I certainly would not mind!’ confirmed Olivia, who had overheard this exchange. ‘Indeed I would be most grateful to you, Miss Wyncroft, for she has not been exercised in days.’
Faced with the smiling generosity of Lady Olivia, her sudden thrill at the thought of riding again, and the need to escape from the Earl’s keen gaze, Charlotte agreed. ‘Give me ten minutes to change. I shall return directly.’
She was true to her word. When she returned a little less than ten minutes later, in her blue velvet riding habit, a groom was leading out a beautiful grey mare.
‘Oh, you are so pretty,’ she said to the mare, stroking her soft face.
The groom helped her mount and the party set off.
Charlotte’s heart was still beating unaccountably fast. Riding with Mr Foxley, Olivia and the Earl meant she could no longer avoid him without making her discomfort obvious. She hoped that she would survive the encounter without revealing that the kiss they had shared was consuming her thoughts.
She still did not know how to interpret it. When she remembered his tenderness, the way he had touched her face, she felt sure that he had not been playing with her. Yet they both knew he could not marry her. She had shed hot tears into her pillow last night, mixing sadness with anger and frustration, but right now all she wanted was to avoid revealing to him just how much he had affected her.
She resolved to stay by Olivia’s side.
Chapter Twelve
Charlotte gradually relaxed. Lady Olivia’s mare was a joy to ride, the weather was perfect, and she was enjoying the trek through leafy lanes and byroads. The ladies rode side by side, talking and commenting on the views around them, and Mr Foxley rode alongside the landau when the road was wide enough, so he could converse with Mr Etherington, Henrietta and Faith. He had a good seat, and showed himself to great advantage on the tall gelding provided for him by his host.
The Earl led the party, but as their pace was determined by the trundling coach, progress was slow. He dropped back to speak to Olivia, Mr Foxley and Charlotte.
‘I am thinking we might leave the road here and ride through the countryside, where we can let the horses have their heads. We can take a longer route and meet the carriages at Waverley.’
‘Oh, yes, Adam,’ said Olivia. ‘Let’s do that.’
Mr Foxley declined, indicating that he would stay with the carriages. When the plan was divulged to the others, Mrs Etherington welcomed Mr Foxley’s decision.
‘Oh, thank goodness Mr Foxley will stay with us.’ she said. ‘For what if we should be set upon by thieves or highwaymen?’
The Earl looked concerned. ‘If you do not like it, ma’am, we will all stay with you.’
‘Oh, no,’ she said faintly, ‘for we will also have Reverend Sneddon and my dear Hubert to protect us.’
Reverend Sneddon looked quite startled at having been placed in the role of protector, while Hubert—from the landau—announced dramatically, ‘Fear not! I will protect these lovely ladies with my life if needed!’
Henrietta looked impressed.
They continued together on the Farnham Road as far as Elstead, then the Earl, Charlotte and Olivia left the carriages and turned up a side lane. The Fantons were familiar with the country around Waverley for, Olivia told Charlotte, it was one of their favourite rides.
The next hour was delightful. At times they picked their way carefully through fields and farmland, but they also cantered through two wide meadows. Olivia rode protectively beside Charlotte at first, until the Earl realised what she was doing.
‘You need not worry about Miss Wyncroft,’ he said. ‘She has as good a seat as any lady in England.’
‘Praise indeed,’ replied his sister.
Charlotte’s face flushed, but she could only be pleased. Really, it was all just too confusing.
Finally, they slowed to ford the River Wey. Olivia went first, and then Charlotte, with the Earl beside her, entered the river. They moved together across the shallow watercourse. Olivia went ahead, urging her mount up the shallow riverbank. Charlotte and the Earl paused for a moment and let the horses dip their heads for a drink. The summer sunshine sparkled on the water, which looked clear and clean. Charlotte could feel the comforting warmth of the sun on her back.
‘Did you enjoy that?’
‘Oh, I did!’ she said, with passion. ‘It was wonderful.’
‘Good. I like to see you happy.’
He looked intently at her, and her heart beat faster. His mouth opened and closed, as if he wished to say something. She waited, unsure.
Finally words burst from him. ‘You look glorious with colour in your cheeks and your eyes bright.’
Her colour deepened. ‘Thank you.’
They continued to look at each other, neither speaking. As his eyes fixed hers, Charlotte felt a warm happiness surround her such as she had never known. How long the moment lasted she could not afterwards remember. Her confusion, hurt and anger disappeared, melted by the sunshine, the diamond-sparkling water and the warm intensity in his gaze.
‘Here we are!’ called Olivia, indicating some grey stone ruins ahead.
She spurred her mount to a trot, and the Earl and Charlotte followed.
Charlotte felt as though she was under a spell. So quickly he had charmed her into forgetting how he had hurt her. Was she so weak that she should succumb so easily? Yet the delicious warmth inside could not be denied. If he had tried to kiss her again...what would she have done?
Set among summer greenery, the ruins looked as if they had simply grown into the landscape, like silvery stone hedgerows. Two walls of a long building remained, with another beyond. Charlotte could clearly see the arched window spaces, and could imagine it complete. All around were interesting lumps and bumps, covered in grass and ivy, with hints of further treasures beneath. The whole scene was bathed in sunlight, and was verdant, serene and beautiful.
Olivia disappeared among the dappled ruins, while Charlotte and the Earl paused again.
‘Monks lived in this building,’ said the Earl. ‘It is thought the other was for visitors and lay people. It’s said King John stayed here.’
‘How old is it?’ Charlotte was fascinated. She had visited historical sites in Europe, but she was finally home, in England, and its history called to her in a different way.
‘I don’t think it is known for sure. After the Conqueror—possibly twelfth-century. It was destroyed in Henry VIII’s dissolution.’
Charlotte drank in the atmosphere. ‘It’s so peaceful here today. It’s hard to imagine the pain and trouble of that time.’
He nodded, and their eyes met. A slow smile lit his face and she could only smile back, again lost in the moment. Oh, this man. How he affected her!
He nudged his horse closer to hers and bent towards her. Charlotte’s pulse was racing. She took in every detail of him—his handsome face, the intense grey gaze, those lips... She held her breath—
‘Aaaaaargh!’
The silence was shattered by a shriek from their left. They turned to see the rest of their party walking across the grass. Two grooms followed, staggering under the weight of a huge picnic basket.
The shriek, it seemed, had come from Henrietta. Blushing at the thought of what had just nearly happened—and in full view!—Charlotte nudged her horse towards the group. Henrietta was flushed and distressed, Mrs Buxted was patting her hand ineffectively, while the others looked on. No one, it seemed, had noticed that near-kiss on horseback.
‘It was a rat, I tell you! A huge one! It ran across my foot!’
The Captain flashed his brother a wry smile, while Millicent looked decidedly sceptical.
Faith looked towards Charlotte and the Earl
and mouthed the word mouse. She then indicated with her finger and thumb the size of the now absent rodent.
Fieldmouse, Charlotte guessed.
‘Oh, you poor thing,’ said Mrs Buxted. ‘A rat, you say?’
Mr Etherington, hopping from foot to foot in agitation, made comforting sympathetic noises—then distracted himself by noticing a spot of mud on one of his glossy boots. Tutting in exasperation, he produced a large handkerchief from his pocket and began wiping furiously at the offending stain.
‘Did you see it, Mama?’
‘I did,’ said her parent, perjuring herself without a blink. ‘Nasty, horrid thing. My poor girl. You should sit down. Why is there nothing to sit on?’
‘We shall have our picnic here,’ said Lord Shalford, his expression unreadable.
The grooms unburdened themselves of the basket and began to unpack it. Cloths were quickly found and Henrietta, pleased with all the attention, sat carefully, spreading the skirt of her overdress until she was satisfied. The rodent forgotten, she twirled her parasol and smiled benignly at those around her.
The riders dismounted and handed their reins to the grooms. They all found places to sit, and enjoyed an excellent lunch of meats, cheeses, preserves, breads and fruit, with a choice of wines and lemonade to drink.
Henrietta took the opportunity to scold the Earl for abandoning them on the road, which he took in good spirit. He was remarkably patient with Henrietta, Charlotte noted. Why did that anger her so much? Was he playing games with all of them?
Millicent, thrilled with her curricle ride, was today focusing on flirting with the Captain. She was sitting on the edge of one of the picnic blankets, sharing a bunch of grapes with him. The Captain looked as if he was enjoying the light dalliance.
Henrietta looked at them, then shrugged. Coquettishly, ignoring Hubert completely, she asked the Earl if he might show her the ruins. He complied with alacrity, offering his hand to help her rise. As she stood up Henrietta stumbled slightly, and he instinctively put out an arm to steady her. Charlotte, watching, felt pain stab through her. Henrietta leaned into him briefly, until he stepped back, offering his arm to her.
Waltzing with the Earl Page 11