by Dayna Quince
“Of course not. But I wanted to shock my mother.”
“I think it worked.”
“Oh, I know it did,” Jonathan said smugly.
“She’s been torturing me endlessly about marriage. Now it’s my turn.”
“You intend to torture her using me?”
“When you say it like that it sounds terrible. No. I don’t mean you personally.”
“Then what do you mean?”
“I don’t know. I’m just enjoying her discomfort at not knowing what I’m doing at present. She suspects something, but I won’t confirm or deny anything, and it's driving her batty.”
“I think I understand. But still, she doesn’t seem to be pleased.”
Jonathan remained silent for a moment. “And if she isn’t?” He felt her small shrug. He looked down at her. “It wouldn’t matter. They don’t see what I see.”
She looked up at him with wonder. He kept staring. He’d never had a woman look at him in such a way. He was a little embarrassed but also filled with awe and warmth. What was it about Maddie that made him feel so different? For the first time, he felt like someone’s hero. It wasn’t just lust he felt for her. It was genuine care. She deserved everything that was good in him and above all else, she needed him. Oddly, he thought he might need her, too.
He looked away. As they came upon the gathering, they held everyone’s attention. Jonathan let his mask slip into place and led Maddie to a table with two open chairs. The other occupants were Mr. Banks and Mrs. Faraday. Mrs. Faraday was a charming widow of middling years. She was a bit of a gossip, which suited Jonathan just fine.
They took a moment to greet each other, Mrs. Faraday’s eyes bright with intrigue. Jonathan and Mr. Banks left the ladies to fetch their plates.
“Mrs. Faraday caught your eye?” Jonathan teased Banks.
“I couldn’t stand another moment listening to Miss Cecelia whine and gloat in rotating sentences. Mrs. Faraday was most obliging in allowing me to escort her.”
Jonathan nodded in sympathy.
“I can’t help but notice…” Banks raised both brows.
“That I escorted Miss Prescott?”
“And other obvious happenings. It’s all anyone can talk about, once Miss Cecelia ceases talking, of course.”
“Of course.” Jonathan chuckled. “I intend to court Miss Prescott.” Jonathan blurted, though he said it low enough so only Banks could hear.
Banks stared at him.
“Don’t look so shocked. You looked smitten enough yesterday morning,” Jonathan growled defensively.
“I’m not shocked, frankly—well, not for the reason you assume.”
“She’s not mad, she’s eccentric, and she shines brighter than anyone here. Frankly, it’s absurd she hasn’t more suitors. But never mind that. I’m not going to let rumor and nicknames scare me away from someone who has courage enough to be herself,” Jonathan finished angrily. He looked around. His quiet little tirade hadn’t drawn anyone’s attention yet. But Banks looked at him as if he may very well be crazy, not Maddie.
“Believe me when I say I understand,” Banks said calmly.
“Do you?” Jonathan returned.
“Since my family’s circumstances changed, I’ve been thrust into the marriage mart. And…” He lowered his voice, “All the young women—while I’m sure they all have lovely and unique attributes, all blend together. Miss Prescott has thrust herself out of the mold and made her own. It is admirable.”
Jonathan listened while he filled his and Maddie’s plates. “I could not agree more, Banks.”
Feeling level headed again, he and Banks returned to their table, but in Mrs. Faraday’s place sat Miss Cecelia.
“Mr. Banks! I hope you don’t mind. My mother desperately needed to speak with Mrs. Faraday.”
Jonathan marveled at Banks’s ability keep his expression neutral. “How wonderful.” Banks sat. “I do hope you like fish. Mrs. Faraday requested a heaping plate full of fish.” He set the plate down before her.”
“Oh, dear. I disdain fish.” Miss Cecelia pushed the plate away.
Maddie reached across the table and took the plate. She scraped the fish onto the ground and returned it to Miss Cecelia. A slopping-scuffing sound filled the silence.
“Good heavens, what is that?” Cecelia cried.
“Oh, not to worry.” Maddie smiled. “Henry loves fish.”
“Henry?”
The hound popped his head up from under the table in answer to his name.
“My father’s hound?” Cecelia said in dismay.
“He is delightful company,” Maddie offered.
Jonathan chuckled. “Let’s hope he finishes all the fish before the stable cats catch wind of it.”
Miss Cecelia still did not touch the plate of food. Mr. Banks sighed. “May I fetch you something more to your liking?”
“Oh yes, please.” Miss Cecelia gushed. She spouted off an assortment of food items and smiled pleasantly as he retreated back to the buffet table.
“Well, now that that is settled,” Jonathan murmured.
Miss Cecelia folded her hands on the table and leaned forward. “Isn’t it a beautiful evening, Lord Rigsby? The forest will be so enchanting when lit only by lantern, and perhaps a bit spooky.” She shivered.
“Do you believe in ghosts, Miss Cecelia?” Maddie asked.
Jonathan watched as Cecelia reluctantly turned her attention to Maddie. “Of course, not.”
“Then what is there to be afraid of?”
“The hermit.”
“Mr. Sanders? He is very nice.”
“You’ve spoken to the hermit?” Cecelia said with a horrified expression.
“You haven’t?”
“Heavens no. Why would I speak to the hermit?”
Maddie shook her head, and Jonathan tried valiantly to look like he wasn’t enjoying every moment of the exchange between the two. Maddie and Cecelia were as different as night and day.
“You’re right. I wouldn’t expect you to speak to him at all. Why would you?” Maddie shrugged.
Jonathan switched his gaze to Cecelia for her response.
“Exactly. It isn’t done for a young lady to wander about the woods let alone speak to the resident hermit,” she returned tartly.
Maddie raised her brow but didn’t comment.
“So why did you?” Cecelia asked.
Maddie set her fork down. “I was in the woods, wandering as young ladies such as I do, and I came across a young fawn. It was curled in the brush, and I would not have seen it as I passed had it not mewed softly for help. I could see the smoke from a small fire up the rise, and I walked toward it. That is where I found the hermit’s hut. I explained the situation, and he took the little babe into his hut. It had a sprained leg.”
“What of its mother?” Jonathan asked.
“That is the peculiar thing. When Mr. Sanders picked up the baby, she slowly approached from a dense thicket. She followed us to the hut. Mr. Sanders put a poultice on the little leg and a bandage made of leaves. He let the baby go outside, and it joined its mother. They both just walked away into the woods. Mr. Sanders told me all about the deer population and how he made the bandage of leaves so after the poultice and leaves dried out it would fall off on its own.”
“Ingenious,” Jonathan said
“I thought so, too.”
“But why did you talk to him?” Cecelia asked with a perplexed frown.
“I needed someone to help with the baby fawn. He is very knowledgeable, you know.”
“You were alone with a man,” Cecelia said quietly.
“No one cared then, no one cares now,” Maddie returned.
Cecelia pointedly looked at Jonathan. He raised a brow, daring her to say something idiotic.
“Is that true, Lord Rigsby? What are your thoughts about Miss Prescott's actions?”
“I think it very compassionate she sought help for the fawn.”
“But she risked her reputation for an animal. That is ver
y risky behavior.”
Jonathan looked at Maddie. “Indeed, I would think less of you had you left the fawn to its inevitable demise.”
“I could never do such a thing. I will never stand by while an animal suffers.”
“There, you see? Her good reputation is intact.” He smirked at Cecelia.
She was not pleased. She leaned forward. “You know that is not what I meant. She was alone with a man for who knows how long. Only the Lord knows what happened,” she said quietly.
Jonathan could feel the tension in Maddie. His anger rose to the forefront. “What exactly are you implying, Miss Cecelia.”
Cecelia pinched her lips as she was about to answer. Mr. Banks returned at that moment and set her plate before her.
“There you are, Miss Cecelia.”
“Thank you, Mr. Banks.”
Mr. Banks looked around the table expectantly. “You three look like you were discussing something intriguing.”
“Not at all,” Cecelia answered first.
“Miss Cecelia thinks I’ve been dallying with the hermit,” Maddie said point non-plus.
Mr. Banks had unfortunately just taken a sip of his wine. He barely stopped himself from spewing it all over the white table linen and instead, spit it into his glass. He coughed. “Damnation.”
“My apologies, Mr. Banks,” Maddie said.
Jonathan looked heavenward as he sipped his own wine.
“My apologies, Miss Cecelia and Miss Prescott, for my language,” Mr. Banks uttered hoarsely.
“Well, I’ve been shocked to my toes. I shan't eat a single thing now.”
Jonathan set his glass down with a thunk. “Shocked? You’re the one who brought it up. You made the implication, for whatever purposes.”
“I resent that implication.” Cecelia put her nose in the air.
“As do I, Miss Cecelia,” Maddie spoke up. “You implied something very unkind about me for no other reason than…well, I don’t know why you would want to hurt me.”
Cecelia sat back and folded her arms. She looked between Jonathan and Maddie. “You’ll do well to remember your place, Miss Prescott.”
“I know my place, Miss Cecelia. I’ve lived in it for quite some time. I suggest you remember yours and the fragile glass walls you live in.”
Miss Cecelia pushed out of her chair and strode away.
“Good riddance,” Jonathan muttered.
Mr. Banks pulled her abandoned plate nearer and began to eat her food as well.
“I’m going to never hear the end of this. I suspect this is the last time my family and I will be invited to this party.” Maddie sighed and poked at her food with her fork.
“I suspect that’s true, but for very different reasons,” Jonathan said. He caught Maddie’s gaze.
“I’d consider it a blessing,” Mr. Banks added.
That made Maddie smile, which calmed Jonathan significantly. He relaxed in his chair and finished his wine. He was ready for the evening to move forward and to put every last naysayer in their place. Tonight, they would know that the future Earl of Heath had chosen his Countess. He mentally stumbled on that last thought. She would be his countess, but she wouldn’t really be the countess if he left her alone on some remote estate. He still hadn’t thought much about that part, which was a mistake. The Countess of Heath had duties. She tended to tenant concerns, brought care baskets, and sweets for the children. His mother always had many things to tend to when they returned home.
He looked at Maddie again. She was talking with Banks about the fawn story, only Banks wasn’t scandalized, he was charmed. Maddie could charm the tenants just as easily. The children would love her. She’d never look down on them or make the tenant wives feel homely in her presence. Maddie was as down to earth as a lady could be. Jonathan could even say she would thrive on their country estate. It was in the ballrooms that she’d suffer. And if he had it his way—and her way—she’d never have to go there again after they married, but there was no reason to send her away to some far-flung place when she would be perfectly comfortable in Yorkshire.
He would have to discuss it with her. Perhaps she wanted to be far away and completely removed from society’s eye. If she only went so far as his family’s home in Yorkshire, she’d reside with his family most of the year and have to endure parties and frequent visits from his sister. She would also see him very frequently, and he her, which meant he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off her and then his mother would have her wish of many grandchildren. The arrangement wasn’t a bad one. Once his family accepted her, they would see her for the prize she truly was, but it was Maddie's choice.
“Are you ready to walk the forest now?” Jonathan asked abruptly.
“Oh, yes, a walk is just what I need after all this food,” she stood.
Mr. Banks stood as well. He caught Jonathan’s eye. “Shall I join you?”
“No,” Jonathan said firmly. Maddie looked between the two gentlemen.
Mr. Banks nodded. “Right then. Enjoy your illuminating walk.”
“Thank you,” Maddie smiled at him as Jonathan tugged her away.
“That was rude,” she whispered to Jonathan.
“Maddie, this walk is for lovers. It is meant to declare to the party that we have an interest in each other. It wouldn’t do for Banks to join us, now would it?”
“Oh, I suppose not. But I feel badly leaving him alone.”
“He understands.”
They approached the entrance to the walk. Many of the matrons sat facing the entry to the walk so they could gleefully watch which couples would enter together and speculate the fruitfulness of the match. Guests took notice as they approached, and Jonathan calculated the odds of them being intercepted. He thought Sir William might try to stop them, or perhaps Maddie’s brother, but it was one man in particular who stood, his hand braced on a cane Jonathan knew he hardly needed.
Lord Berett stood, nimbly placing himself between them and the entrance, turning and spotting them as if he was surprised to find them there. Jonathan placed his hand over Maddie’s where it rested on his arm.
“Good evening, Lord Berett.”
“Good evening, young Lord Rigsby. A fine time you’ve been having on the practice field, I see.”
“That I have, Lord Berett.”
“The culmination of events shall be interesting, if not entertaining to the rest of the guests.”
“As always. That is Lord Worthington’s goal for the party, I should say,” Jonathan replied coolly.
Lord Berett turned to Maddie. “I was informed that my sister was not feeling well. I would greatly appreciate if you would see to her needs this evening, Miss Prescott. She is very fond of you.”
Jonathan was prepared to intervene, but he was sure Maddie could handle herself.
“She imbibed heavily this afternoon. Tis her own fault. I was not inclined to watch her sleep, my lord. Her maid saw to her needs adequately.”
Lord Berett’s bushy brows came together. “A young lady may not be about without her chaperone.”
“I haven’t a need for a chaperone, Lord Berett. But if you are so concerned for Lady Flora, may I suggest you see to her yourself or send for a doctor? I’m of the opinion she only needs food and sleep.”
His wrinkled lips came together in patent disapproval. “I have permission from your father to walk you through the forest.” He put his hand out.
“Miss Prescott has already accepted my escort,” Jonathan said coolly. Lord Berett didn’t look at him, only at Maddie. He stared at her with hard eyes as if he could will her into taking his hand.
Jonathan didn’t want a confrontation, but he was not about to concede to Lord Berett.
Maddie smiled sweetly. “Thank you, Lord Berett, but I’ve already chosen my escort for the evening.”
“Your father chose for you.”
“My father gave me a month to choose for myself, and I have.”
Jonathan watched the interchange carefully. Maddie was ca
lm under Lord Berett’s subtle aggression. Lord Berett bowed his head and stepped back. “Tis but a simple walk through the woods. You may enjoy it with whomever you wish.”
Maddie held Lord Berett’s stare. Jonathan moved them around Lord Berett with a nod. He was sure all of the gatherings had witnessed the exchange, and the talk would be rabid. They entered the sheltered path, the tree limbs having been trimmed over the years to arch over the path creating a tunnel that would have been eerie had it not been cleverly lit by lanterns hung sporadically to make the path whimsical and inviting. A violinist had begun to play. Looking back, Jonathan could see more couples pairing off and entering the trail.
He looked down at Maddie. She was staring at the ground.
“Look up Maddie. It really is beautiful in here.”
She raised her chin and looked around, her expression barely showing interest in their surroundings.
“I’ve only ever walked this as a group, usually in the wake of my sister and her drooling suitors. Have you been here before?”
She nodded. “I walked through alone once. I wanted to see what all the fuss was about.”
“And now that you’re walking it with me?”
She half smiled. “It’s better to have someone to walk it with.”
“Someone? I’m wounded.”
She laughed. “You,” she clarified.
“I’m not yet mollified by that answer.”
“I remember seeing you in here that first year. You were looking for your sister. You growled like a beast. I could only see bits of you through the trees.”
“They have cleverly made little alcoves with benches. A terrible idea. Lucy had the strange notion that if she got lost in here, her perfect partner would find her and it would be meant to be.”
“Who found her?”
“My father. Lucy was very displeased. It had grown late, and the other guests were returning to the house.”
“Where were you?”
“I admit I was a bit lost myself.”
“Truly?”
“It’s like a maze in here. I couldn’t find my way out, and Lady Merton, who was Miss Kingsley as the time, kept trying to corner me in an alcove. I feared for my life.”
She laughed throatily. “You mean you feared for your bachelorhood.”