The tour Jasper gave him the previous day allowed Aubrey the confidence to venture out on his own upon discovering his friend had paperwork to accomplish. The stables boasted many a fine horse, and Aubrey had been testing the paces mastered by the beast he chose.
Aubrey let the horse amble through the fields on his way back to the manor, both he and the beast pleasantly tired.
The sun burned down warm against his neck but not too hot, the birds chirped, and the horse had a comfortable gait. After the strain of London during the season, attempting to help his sister find her mate, keeping his father’s estates running smoothly, and all the rest, he could see the appeal of a country retreat. He’d never sequester himself out here, though.
His place was in London, and he knew the quiet would soon grow unwelcome as he itched to do something more complicated and with greater impact. Nothing could hold the same draw here where the biggest concern—weather—was out of human control and so beyond his reach.
Unlike many of his peers, he’d been raised in London proper, having only visits to tour the estates for his country experience. His father’s interest in politics started even before inheriting the seat in the House of Lords, and little could be accomplished without a solid presence in the capital. Unlike some, he preferred to keep his family at his side.
A glint of color drew Aubrey from his thoughts.
He urged the horse forward to investigate, faint memories of childhood jaunts returning the nearer he came to the decorated bushes. He’d discovered a large raspberry patch at the peak of ripeness. Aubrey swung down and tossed the reins over the horse’s head to use as a lead rope, unwilling to let this treasure pass untouched.
The first berry dropped into his hand as though it had been waiting for his arrival, and faster than he would have thought possible, three more gave way to his eager fingers and even more eager lips. This the country could offer which had no parallel within the bounds of the city.
Sun-warmed ripe berries.
He mourned the lack of a basket to bring some to the manor, but swore he’d do his best to mark the placement so he could alert Jasper and Daphne to the bounty.
Aubrey collected what he could in a clean handkerchief as he made his way around the bramble.
Laughter and joyful cries reached his ears.
For a heartbeat, he wondered if forest nymphs had burst free from some of the poetry he’d been reading, but no. He rounded a corner with his cloth full of berries and his horse trailing after to see a vision.
A young country girl filled his sight. Her riot of dark brown curls danced around a head tossed back to reveal an open expression and wide smile. Her bonnet hung loose from around her neck. The sheer delight of her laughter caught hold of something deep inside him, washing away the melancholy that threatened him of late. It didn’t hurt that she shared some features with Lady Barbara Whitfeld. If he could not ask his question, at least he could admire her country copy.
Here was someone so at peace with her place in life that she found joy in the simple pleasures of berry picking, though from her dress, she’d likely been set to it by a master rather than of her own will. This girl seemed as far from the constrained young ladies of London as possible, and yet she, not her refined equivalents, was the first to spark an instant attraction in his breast.
The laughter fell silent as the girl and her companions noticed him one by one, as though his presence wiped the joy from their simple world.
His thoughts soured. He had no right to pursue his interest, even so far as to make it known to the girl in question. The distance between their lives measured longer than the miles between here and the city proper. The very joy that captivated him would be crushed in the strictures of his world, while a simple country girl would find no peace among the responsibilities of a London lady. She no more belonged in his life than the sun-warmed berries he’d plucked from the branches.
Their curious smiles grew stiff as he stood locked in his own indecision, a further sign of how harmful his presence could be. He couldn’t very well turn around and go back the way he’d come, though. He’d been raised a gentleman, and it was about time he lived up to the title.
Tugging on the reins, Aubrey stepped forward to greet them. “Good afternoon, misses. I apologize for the intrusion. I see you’re more prepared to enjoy this bounty than I.” He raised his stained handkerchief in explanation only to freeze as he met the gaze of the very girl who’d caught his eye.
She stared at him as though she knew him, as though she shared the instinctive connection he’d felt when first he came upon her.
All his careful thoughts of consequences and difficulties vanished, leaving him to gaze at her as though struck dumb. He lowered his hand a moment later, having forgotten it, but he did not break her gaze until she turned away, a delicate blush rising up her neck to color cheeks much too pale for all the time she must have spent in the sun.
BARBARA COULD NOT BELIEVE HER luck.
Here she’d been laughing at the enthusiasm with which her younger cousins met the news that she had convinced Charlotte to let them dance, and he had to appear to destroy everything. She needn’t have worried that the dance lessons would bring her to Aubrey. He had come here on his own to haunt her.
Her whirling thoughts settled around the last as she recalled his expression when he gazed upon her. Confusion, yes, but she’d seen not a hint of recognition.
He’d seen fit to spread tales about her, to condemn both her comportment and nature, but he’d never bothered to pay enough attention to identify her features even when they’d crossed paths in the park.
The cousins moved closer, introducing themselves and asking if he came from the manor, but Barbara had no curiosity about the man. She’d thought she knew him so well, but everything she’d known had been proved false in one fateful moment when she heard his true nature revealed. She did not understand why his dismissal continued to burn, or why his failure to mark her presence here, even in simple clothing, confounded her. If anything, she should be happy he came by accident and not to plague her.
“And this young woman?”
Barbara spun around, sure he meant none other than herself.
Driven by a wild urge to stave off her cousins’ efforts to make her known, she said, “I’m called Barbara,” before any others could make the introduction.
He met her gaze with an intent look that warmed her to her very bones. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Barbara.” He smiled then, and it seemed the sun itself grew brighter.
A blush rose to burn her cheeks despite what she knew about him. In her own life, he’d thought her a waste of time not even worth securing an introduction, yet here, he seemed all interest and intrigued.
The heat drained away as she realized the only possible meaning to his regard. He must have been one of those who found their entertainment among the lower classes, knowing he wouldn’t be held accountable for his actions beyond a coin or two, and certainly not forced into marriage as he would be if dallying with a woman of position.
Under the weight of his gaze, though, she wondered what it would be like to be pursued by him.
Barbara turned away a second time, almost faint with the heat rushing through her. She did not want to be compromised by any man, and certainly not by one who held her true nature in disdain. She thought more of herself than to chance her future, her reputation, and her heart on the attentions of a lust-filled young lord no matter how attractive her eyes might find his form.
“You must join us in our berrying, Lord Aubrey. Charlotte has a basket to spare, should you need one.”
Barbara opened her mouth to protest Georgiana’s enthusiasm, but Aubrey spoke before she could.
“As much as I’d enjoy the company,” he said, “I must be on my way with my meager gathering. It does a man poorly to linger among enchanting nymphs.”
The others laughed at that, high-pitched giggles much unlike how they greeted the thought of learning proper dance.
Barbara frowned at them. Could they not see his meaning? He might have used pretty words as an excuse, but once the opportunity for a quick tumble in the field was lost with so many gathered round, he saw no need to waste his time among those well beneath him.
The cousins called out farewells and watched him ride off, but Barbara turned back to the bush, venting her anger on the stiff branches that sought to block her way.
“You’ll only crush the berries if you continue in this way,” Charlotte said, coming up on her side. She glanced over her shoulder in the direction Aubrey had gone before continuing, “Someone from your past come to haunt you?”
Barbara gave a sour laugh as her cousin mirrored her earlier thought. “Anyone of significance to me would recognize my features as surely you saw he did not. He’s nothing but an arrogant lord who sees all of us as beneath his notice.”
Her cousin nodded as though in agreement, but Barbara shifted, uncomfortable under the accompanying gaze. She waited for Charlotte to question further, for her to pry free the whole sorry story of Barbara’s attachment to a man who had proved no more real than the nymphs Aubrey had called them.
Charlotte said nothing further.
She turned back to the gathering and drifted away to let Barbara recover herself alone.
If only thoughts of Aubrey would prove equally as obliging. Instead, they lingered and rose at the least opportune moments. Even worse, rather than the annoyance and anger she should dwell upon, what came to her was the sense of a bond between them in that first glance, the heat that rushed through her at being his entire focus.