When Charlotte came in from telling Grannie of the bounty they’d collected for her, she marched right up to Barbara and announced, “Since you’re the cause of this extra, you’ll just have to help me prepare the herbs for storage.” Charlotte looked as though she didn’t know whether to laugh or scowl as she made the pronouncement. “Clearly Grannie’s wishes had no stake in sending us off.”
Barbara soon gained a better understanding of why the scowl.
Even with all six of them working, it took the rest of the first day and far into the second before they’d set out those that could be dried and identified what needed to be boiled into solutions.
Their work had only begun.
After dividing the herbs, they began with more preparation steps than many an apothecary, each instruction given by Charlotte in a stern voice that allowed for no complaints and warned of dire consequences should they make a mistake.
Only when they finished did Charlotte relent as she took in the results of their labors. “There’ll be no more chores today. Take yourself off for some relaxation.”
The cousins scattered faster than Barbara had expected, perhaps fearing Charlotte would find some other essential task should they linger.
“What would you do?” Charlotte’s gaze swept both Sarah and Barbara.
Though her back ached and her hands were red and sensitive, only one thought came to mind. “I would ride.”
Sarah laughed at that, though Barbara read the agreement in her friend’s face. In London, they’d spent what time they could on horseback, the only way to be free of any social restrictions, though riding there had little in common to the wild tear she’d accomplished the last time a horse stood between her knees.
Barbara’s smile sank as the consequences of that freedom came back to her. “But with the cousins gone, I cannot. Your father was very specific that every one of you must accompany me or I may not go at all.”
“Surely he didn’t mean to be so strict,” Charlotte said, her tone soft. “If any deserves her choice of rewards it is you and Sarah. Never would I have expected one so recently from London to put herself wholeheartedly into every task I set. The both of you are to be commended.”
That brought life into Barbara as she stated, “Commended, maybe, but not on horseback.”
Charlotte gave a rueful headshake. “No, I suppose not, or commended would unlikely be the response my father offered. I’ll promise you this though. If you help me with the remaining chores today, I’ll make sure Father agrees to a morning ride.”
Barbara exchanged a glance with Sarah, and the two of them burst out in laughter, much to Charlotte’s confusion. Though she could hardly have predicted their humor, her statement only proved the desperate flight of the others a true act of self-preservation.
“I won’t speak for Sarah,” Barbara said as soon as she got herself under control, “But that seems a worthy exchange to me.” She didn’t even mind that the other girls would get a second chance at freedom from chores when she did not. A true ride without incurring her uncle’s wrath would be worth the work.
“Well, then, I think we should catch up on the sewing. We’ve spent enough time out in the sun, and from the look of your hands, they need to rest and repair as much as the whole of you.”
Though sewing had never been Barbara’s favorite, she could manage a decent stitch, and it meant sitting down most likely with a cup of tea. There must have been other things that needed doing, so she chose to be grateful for her cousin’s kindness.
Sarah followed them in rather than finding her own pleasures, and the three of them spent a quiet afternoon repairing clothing Barbara felt sure she’d wear before her return to London. At least her handwork would not embarrass, not herself nor any of the cousins who donned the clothes.
The others returned at nightfall without speaking of how they’d chosen to spend their time, though from the blush on Georgiana’s cheeks, Barbara suspected Charlotte would soon have to give the girl a stern talking to.
Without hesitation, they each poured a cup of tea and pulled something from the sewing basket, talking on the state of the fields and how high the river was running. Barbara let the conversation flow over her, focused on the possibility of a ride in the morning.
She refused to admit to herself how much the desire stemmed from the hope of crossing paths with Aubrey. After spending the day with him when they were gathering, she knew she wouldn’t shy from his company, but she’d had no opportunity to put it to the test. With the herb work, they’d kept close to the house, and Aubrey had made no attempt to seek her out there.
Barbara pushed away her disappointment, reminded of how the cousins suspected her uncle had warned him to stay back. His absence could not be taken as an already waning interest any more than her feelings showed anticipation for his company. She only wanted to put Sarah’s plan into effect and teach Aubrey not to judge without evidence.
If her thoughts rang hollow, only she could hear them. The cousins and Sarah had no reason to suspect and tease her for what consumed her attention much more than the measured stitches as she repaired a sprung seam. At least her hands obeyed her command, making even, tight loops that could provoke no complaint.
Just then, her uncle came in from the yard and the girls leapt up to greet their father with an abandon Barbara had cause to envy. She loved her parents, but such boisterous affection had long since been discouraged as she became a young lady and left childhood behind. Just one more way the country differed from London society much like her canters would be soundly condemned there.
Charlotte pulled her father out of the bevy of sisters and spoke so softly Barbara could not hear her words. Still, what else could she be talking about but the ride? Barbara had seen enough even in her short time among them to know catching him in the first moments come in from the stables meant the greatest chance of whatever request they made.
Uncle Ferrier glanced her way then back to Charlotte, but when he spoke it was in a voice loud enough to fill the room and cut through the chatter from the girls. “You can all go riding tomorrow. I’ll leave word with the stable boys as to which horse for each of you.” He turned to face Barbara fully. “You are all to stay together. No wandering off and getting into trouble.”
Though she’d been sure the last had been a reference to her attempt to escape Aubrey, he pivoted to glare down at Georgiana who turned a deep scarlet. Perhaps the behavior that brought a flush to her cousin’s cheeks had not passed unnoticed after all, nor had all of Charlotte’s whispers to her father concerned Barbara.
At least things couldn’t have gone so far as to compromise the girl, or her uncle would have done more than glare, but Barbara hoped her cousin took this warning to heart. Even out in the country, a young woman’s future, and whom she chose to spend it with, had much to do with how good a reputation she maintained.
Barbara could not imagine Uncle Ferrier giving her off to someone at random if no one of standing would have her, but neither could she think of a woman less suited to spinsterhood than her youngest cousin.
AUBREY’S DECISION TO STAY clear of his delightful country girl passed without challenge in the two days since he’d met the girls at the forest’s edge. That he’d noticed the absence did not bode well for his conviction, however, nor did how he chose a path near the Ferrier farmland to complete his morning ride.
A clear voice cut through the background murmur of nature, rewarding his vigilance with, “You heard your father. We must stay together. So keep up.”
He tugged on his reins just in time to enjoy the spectacle of Barbara astride a well-muscled horse, her head tossed back and hair streaming behind her as the horse sped from a quick walk into a full-out canter.
The wisdom of a proper saddle, especially at those speeds, did not escape him though she’d be shunned if ever she rode so in London.
The other girls from the gathering trip charged after her, equally skilled, perhaps, but less capable of drawing his gaze, which had stayed with their wild leader as though bound to her with stout leather.
He kneed his horse to follow at a more sedate pace, not because the challenge of a canter failed to appeal but so he wouldn’t startle the girls, as Barbara had been that day at the mill. They seemed oblivious to his observation as first Barbara and then the others pulled up their horses into a trot then walk to cool down.
“Morning,” he called out as he neared. “Nothing like a fast ride to start the day off well.”
As he’d thought, from the way they twisted to face him as a group, his arrival had passed unnoticed. Their expressions ranged from surprise and embarrassment to delight, but he cared only for the one painting Barbara’s features.
Her eyes had widened, but the blush that colored her cheeks did not make her turn away. Instead, she stared right at him, their gazes locked for what seemed like an age. If she were as a siren to him, it seemed he did not suffer alone.
“How is it you happened to be crossing this field?”
The question, from one of the other girls, broke his concentration. Aubrey struggled with an answer for a moment before realizing she’d meant to tease. “There are only so many directions to a compass, and I’ve roamed a bit these past two days.”
“Searching for our Barbara, I’d guess.”
“Jane!” The oldest of the farmer’s daughters gave her sister a sharp look and saved him the trouble of a reply when he did not want to admit she’d said nothing but the truth, especially when he’d hidden that knowledge from himself. Seeing Barbara now, though, made the circuitous nature of his rides all the clearer.
The girls swung down from their horses, Barbara the last to follow suit as though reluctant to give up her perch.
Aubrey refused to take advantage and so joined them on the ground, his feet having recovered from the abuse of last time in the long days between.
“Would any of you girls like some water after your hard ride?” he asked instead, pulling his flask free from its bindings.
Barbara sat nearest, and he watched as she tipped her head back and swallowed twice. The movement accentuated the slender length of her throat, so pale despite her labors under the sun.
Instead of returning the flask, she passed it over to another servant, a further sign the rules of class and station did not hold much sway in this company.
“I should not be surprised from the quality of Mr. Ferrier’s stables, but you all ride with skill,” he said, collecting his wandering thoughts in an attempt to appear unaffected.
Barbara’s lips curled in a grin that sent heat to his very core. “Shouldn’t you be shocked and upset to find yourself in the company of girls astride?”
He blinked twice, perhaps giving the impression of shock as he admired her pluck. “I see nothing wrong in setting the right tools to the task,” Aubrey said after a moment. “The sight of you, any of you, thrown down as your saddle gave way at such speed would be pleasing to none.”
“You sound as though you know a thing or two about sidesaddles,” the oldest broke in.
“I have three sisters. You’ll have to trust I’ve heard their curses often enough to know the failings of a woman’s saddle. Besides…” He turned to Barbara. “This is not the first time I’ve seen you astride.”
He’d meant to compliment her on regaining control without being thrown, but before he could continue, Barbara flushed a deep red, and this time she did turn away.
From her response, it seemed the farmer had been closer to the truth than Aubrey had thought in claiming the snake a ruse. “You were running from me.” The words came as he relived the moment their gazes crossed, the same moment her horse reared up as though attacked from beneath.
He’d spoken under his breath, but the way she jerked back to stare revealed he’d been heard. The sharp need for her answer prevented him from any pretense of not having spoken. That need more than anything put paid to his vow to abandon the pursuit. He was caught in her clutches as sure as Odysseus had longed to hear the sirens, only Aubrey’s friends had not seen fit to tie him to the mast.
BARBARA GAVE HIM EVERY OPPORTUNITY to deny what she’d heard, or even turn the conversation to other topics. He only stared at her as though expecting a response, ignoring any chance of withdrawing with the steady nature of a horse wearing blinkers. She couldn’t believe he’d meant to confront her on this, but neither did he seem willing to let the moment pass.
“If I did, it is because I find your attentions disturbing,” she said finally, losing patience along with control of her tongue.
Her mother would have charged her with shrewishness, but she spoke only the truth. His seeking her now, when she’d have given anything to catch his interest before learning what he really thought of her, drove Barbara to erratic behavior that spiraled between rage and confusion.
Though her words came out sharp, a wide smile split his face. “I do as well, but that doesn’t seem to have the least impact.”
Confusion won as she shook her head, unable to comprehend his statement.
“I came here to get away from the marriage mart, the constant press of girls and their mothers. Certainly not to find myself drawn to someone new.”
In one simple statement, he reminded her of exactly why she’d decided to follow through on Sarah’s plan as her emotions swung once again to rage.
If ever a man needed a lesson, this one did. His pretty words held as much meaning as the dust his horse kicked up to dig free a fresh growth.
And he wasn’t offering the simple country girl he saw anything more than a loss of reputation and a broken heart. He’d come to escape the marriage mart and certainly wouldn’t make an offer here, especially not to someone so unsuitable after he brushed aside all those other girls.
She glanced away, not wanting him to see the flames that must have been shooting from her eyes, but he caught her chin and tugged her back. The touch, as light as it was, stole the breath from her lungs and sent tingles down her neck.
“I did not mean to spurn you. Only to admit to being driven by something greater than myself. I cannot promise to leave you be.” His shoulders raised in a shrug. “I tried and failed. But I’ll do my best to help you become more comfortable with my attentions.”
Barbara cast about for her cousins to beg a rescue, unsure just what he’d meant by that but suspecting her uncle would be none too pleased.
They had moved aside to give Aubrey and Barbara the illusion of privacy. Whispers interrupted by the occasional giggle, though, revealed what could only be enjoyment at her expense.
She sent a scowl at Marian, the closest, who surely knew better. Some help they were. If this were the way of sisters, Barbara could only be grateful she had none.
Marian flushed a bright pink and called in an overly loud voice, “Just look at the berries on that bush there. We should all collect some for Father. Coming, Barbara?”
Barbara regretted her bitter thought as she spun away from Aubrey’s intent gaze to cross over to where the girls had gathered. It seemed the bush did hold plump, deep purple berries, a fortunate circumstance with Aubrey following close on her heels.
Georgiana cast him a bright smile. “It can be just as how you first met Barbara, only now none of us have more than a handkerchief to hold our bounty.” She cast a sideways glance at her older sister. “And I doubt Charlotte will be quite so strict on the number we consume, especially when we can carry so little.”
Aubrey collected the reins of all the horses, looking like nothing more than a servant walking the master’s dogs on the streets of London, only his charges stood many hands higher. “I’ll tether the beasts to that sturdy tree. Without baskets, we’ll all need our hands, I suspect.”
Finally, he chose to act the gentlemen and put aside the uncomfortable intensity he had been pressing on her.
Barbara allowed herself to relax. She ignored the little voice at the back of her head that expressed regret at the moment passing. He made her so turned about. She’d have to be much more careful if she was to escape from her plan unscathed.
That, if nothing else, made her even more determined to bring him to his knees. She found the sensation of being out of control disturbing at the very least.
“…And everyone at the manor enjoyed a delicious piece of cheesecake with one bruised raspberry clinging to the top. Even such a small treat proved so good Lady Pendleton sent out servants to pluck a full measure. Though how they followed my directions, I do not know. I’ve been so far unable to return.”
Marian laughed and brushed his sleeve with already sticky fingers. “It’s because the servants took all the berries so the bush seems nothing more than a bramble now, I’m sure.”
“Or maybe,” Barbara cut in as she touched a decidedly ripe and plump fruit, “the manor servants know the area much better than some gentleman fresh from London.”
Charlotte shot her a reproving glance, but Aubrey took no offense, throwing back his head to laugh with infectious abandon.
Barbara watched him from the corner of her eye, most likely fooling no one but herself as she enjoyed a humor that in no way connected with the person she’d discovered in London. If he wore a mask here, it fit like a fresh-boiled glove. Perhaps he saw this as a space out of time, much like she had become another person in Charlotte’s cast-offs and with chores making her hands red.
“Perhaps,” Aubrey said, as though in answer to her musing until he continued, “but they’ll be happy for some of these despite the bounty.” He proved himself pleased enough by plucking two from the bush and dropping the first onto his tongue.
Though she’d turned to watch him openly, Barbara ducked away when she realized his intention for the second berry. She could just as well pluck her own, and the thought of accepting a treat from his fingers, of his fingertips brushing her lips as he had her chin, made her insides shaky.
Unwilling to chance another such opportunity, Barbara moved close to Charlotte, the only one of the girls she could trust to shield her rather than offering her up to him much like the berry he’d savored so openly. She allowed herself sideways glances but nothing more as they took what they could carry and went their separate ways.