| |
“LORD HARRINGTON HAS decided to pull the names from his hat.” Miss Pratt very softly giggled as she spoke to Miss Annabelle. “It was hinted he did so to ensure his partnership with me, of course.”
Jane rolled her eyes as she toed at the grass. Only Cynthia Pratt could make giggling look refined. She looked back at Lord Harrington. He always dressed impeccably, his dark coats complementing his looks very well. A stray breeze lifted his wavy hair and tousled it about, and she warmed. She glanced over at Mr. Lawrence, whose straight black hair still looked unappealing with its shine and uneven edges. He smiled at her, and she bit her lip wondering if this man might be her future.
A giggle drew her gaze back to Miss Pratt, and she glanced at Lord Harrington, wondering about his future with the Paragon, for he never seemed to prefer her except in the mind of his mother, and for the past two mornings not once had she been a part of their conversations. She smiled; their rides were fast becoming the best part of her day.
He lost his hand as he dipped it in to retrieve a name. “Mr. Makon and.....” He drew another name and Jane noticed Lady Harrington smile her odd smile at her. “...Miss Annabelle.” Miss Annabelle’s head turned from Miss Pratt’s.
“I...beg your pardon? I was not attending.” Miss Annabelle was smiling, but her nose flared, giving her away.
“Your partner is Mr. Makon.” Lord Harrington gave a slight bow towards the vicar as his mother approached him. She whispered in his ear for a moment but he smiled and shook his head. Her mouth set, she pulled her head up and walked back to the other ladies.
“Mr. McInnes and....Margaret.” Lord Harrington grinned at Meg as she approached Mr. McInnes, who frowned. Lord Harrington turned to catch the gaze of Jane, raising one eyebrow. She smiled back and shook her head, wondering at his audacity.
“Mr. George Atwater and....Miss Makon.” Everyone was completely silent now, while some gripped their variety of parasols, bonnets and canes. Everyone, that is, except George and Mary, who walked towards each other, smiling. Lord Petersham gave a short bow and said something that made Mary laugh. Lady Harrington had started to turn an interesting shade of purple.
“My dear Annabelle, it seems he is leaving everything to....chance!” Miss Pratt gasped this to her sister, and Jane looked down in a desperate attempt to stop from laughing out loud. It seemed she had underestimated Lord Harrington. She looked and noticed he too seemed to be holding back a laugh, his brown eyes meeting hers. In fact, Mr. Lawrence was looking at her as well. Her smile fell as she looked about. All faces were turned toward her and as a result, her face started burning immediately. She looked back to Lord Harrington; had he called her name?
“Miss Shaw, it appears you and I will be partners for the maze.”
“Oh! Of....of course.” She hesitated. Should she stand next to him? Wait until he was done calling names? Lady Harrington was staring at her with pursed lips and seemed to be making a jerking motion with her head. All at once, Jane understood. She carefully walked over to Lady Harrington, stopping a few feet away.
“Yes, my lady?” She looked towards the house, not daring to meet Lady Harrington’s anger head on.
“It is, of course, silly that my son should be partnered with you, my dear, with his intended being partnered with someone else. Surely you can see that.” Lady Harrington gestured with her cane, and Jane noticed how Miss Pratt was now standing next to Lord Harrington helping him hold the hat, looking every bit the devoted fiancé. However, as Jane continued to watch, she remembered how he had manipulated at least one couple, and answered brazenly.
“I would never presume to contradict an earl, my lady.” She watched Mr. Lawrence be paired with Miss Stanley, who seemed to take it in stride.
“Oh, of course not, but surely you could refuse to participate. Something about wanting to walk in that grove of trees?”
Mr. Pratt was paired with Sally Fancot, and she watched as Lord and Lady Dewhurst immediately linked arms and followed the couple towards the maze.
“Oh, but my lady, that would leave someone without a partner, and that wouldn’t be fair to them.”
“Well, perhaps we could just –”
“Miss Shaw, shall we?” Lord Harrington held out his arm for her to take, and her face heated. She took it, trying to avoid looking at Lady Harrington, whose lips were closed so tightly she seemed without them.
Lady Harrington’s look stinging, she began to apologize. “My lord, I am sorry you were not paired with...that is, if you would prefer to change the partnerships, I would be very amenable.” She looked up at him and was startled to see he was looking back at her very intently.
“Nonsense. I am perfect amenable, as you put it, to being your partner through this maze.” His mother gave an audible sigh, and Jane’s mouth began to curl up.
“Very well, shall we?” Her smile was full now and he immediately returned it.
Miss Pratt laid her hand on his other arm and said, “Lord Harrington, you are so kind. I will see you when you finish, of course.” She gracefully moved to the side of Sir Reginald, who gave her a jaunty smile with waggly eyebrows and a ridiculous bow. They entered the maze and moved quickly to the right.
Together, Jane and Lord Harrington stepped towards the maze, and paused before the entrance.
“My mother promised a very fine luncheon at the exit, and Cook has made raspberry tarts.”
She laughed as her feet skipped a little over the grass. “I take it that is prize enough for you, my lord?”
“To hear Cook tell it, I would stand on my head for a raspberry tart.”
“I should like to see that, I think.” She grinned at him. “But perhaps it might be wiser to win, thereby achieving first chance at the tarts?”
“Minx.” He stepped forward confidently, his smile firmly in place.
“My lord, do you know the way?” Jane looked at him as they moved forward.
“I used to.” He ran his hands through his hair. “That was many years ago. I haven’t been in there for a while, and I’m sure I’ve forgotten much of it.”
“Well, it is probably for the best. It wouldn’t be honest, and I couldn’t let you enjoy your tarts if we won.”
Lord Harrington smiled down at her. “Considering George remembers at least as much as I, and Meg a fair bit too, I can’t find myself bothered by using my memory at all. Perhaps we should be playing hide and seek instead, though.”
She smiled back. “I should enjoy that very much, for I am not distracted at all by paper boats.”
He laughed. “Then you have never truly lived, Miss Shaw.”
She shook her head. “Perhaps. Meanwhile, I believe I have an idea.”
“Excellent. Robert would be proud.”
Jane pushed away her blush at the mention of Mr. Lawrence. “I’ve heard if you follow the wall of the maze with one hand, either left or right, you will make it to the center, although it is the longest route.”
“Hmm. How about a compromise. I will lead the way at any place I remember, and when I don’t, we can use your method?” They had entered and were looking from side to side at their options.
“It sounds like an excellent strategy. Which direction would you like to start with?”
“I will leave that to my leading lady to decide.” He bowed and she nodded, her smile now firmly in place.
“Very well.” She peered to the left and then to the right. “I think we should go left.”
“Then on we go!”
Jane led the way, and using their left hands they followed the hedge along, with only a few dead ends to deter them. All of a sudden she stopped. He continued and his body bumped into hers, his hand moving to cover her own. There was the exchange of roses and leather and they both abruptly stiffened.
“I beg your pardon.” He stepped back, but not before she felt a thrill run down her body. Shaking the wool from her thoughts, she turned to face him.
“I’m sorry, my lord, but...” His freckles played in the sun and her face turned red.
“Miss Shaw, your hair is...” Here he reached out to rescue a hair pin. “If you will turn around, I will attempt to put it back.”
Jane turned, carefully, her breathing shallow as his hands softly adjusted her hair. She turned around to meet his gaze, unsure of what to say.
He cleared his throat. “You hair looks very well in this...” He cleared his throat again.
They stood there for a moment and Jane suddenly remembered, her voice a whisper. “I thought I heard something.”
Sure enough, in the quiet, they could hear two voices.
“...Shaw.” A man’s voice was commenting. She blushed once more as Lord Harrington’s face turned sober.
“Well....never....Reggie.” A woman’s voice answered, but was she talking to Sir Reginald or about him?
There was laughter, and then, “....my dear.” The voices became clearer. “After all, nothing is official, yes?”
“Of course it’s official. I will be the Countess of Harrington by Christmas.” Jane glanced at Lord Harrington’s face, but it was inscrutable.
“I was under the impression he hadn’t proposed.” Sir Reginald’s cocky delivery was immediately recognizable.
“Yes well, he will any day, I’m sure. After all, his mother acts as if we are, and if he were to back out now, it would be quite a scandal, which I’m sure he’d never submit to.” Miss Pratt’s authoritative tones rang out.
“But if you were to back out...” Sir Reginald was obviously much closer to Cynthia Pratt than Jane had previously believed. She glanced at Lord Harrington, who put a finger to his lips. Her smile was thin and her eyes wide; was he eavesdropping on purpose? He nodded and she shook her head.
“Reg, I will not back out. You know the situation and that’s how it will be.”
The voices lost volume as they took an unseen turn. There was a silence, then.
“Shall we continue?”
“My lord, I...” she looked at his face which refused argument. “Yes.”
A few turns later, she looked at him again. “My lord, I did not win that wager, and yet you quite handily manipulated more than one partner. Indeed, you ruffled more than a few feathers.”
“Well, Miss Shaw, I confess I was curious. You will notice, of course, that Mr. McInnes was rather put out at having to maneuver a maze in the first place.”
Jane laughed. “I would be very surprised if he did not find it more palatable with Lady Margaret at his side.”
“That is not much of a wager, for I would be very surprised if anyone did not find it more palatable with Meg.”
Twenty minutes later found Jane laughing at Lord Harrington’s list of progressively worse things found in his bed. George had been particularly good at this sort of prank, but when Meg tried her hand she decided to hide in the bed herself. Lord Harrington was almost asleep when she came out from under the sheets and scared him to death thinking her a specter. He’d smacked her soundly with a pillow which happened to have raw eggs in it, courtesy of George.
Her stomach ached as they rounded a corner to find themselves at the exit. Holding her side, she gave one more chuckle, and headed toward the table where Lady Harrington had displayed a very fine luncheon which included the much desired raspberry tarts.
“What did I tell you, Miss Shaw? Are they not the best you have ever tasted?” They swapped smiles as they took bites.
“They are excellent.” She swallowed another bite and turned to Lady Harrington who was looking tensely between her and the maze. Her good mood and her friend’s letter inspired her to say, “Do you enjoy raspberry tarts, my lady?”
Her lips at a point, Lady Harrington averted her gaze from the offending pastry. “I...have not had them in some time.”
Before Jane could respond, she heard Lord Petersham call out, “I recognize that statue, Mary, we’re near the end!” Lady Harrington stiffened even more, her face starched as Lord Petersham came out of the maze smiling ear to ear, Miss Makon on his arm.
“We’re not the first? Well, congratulations, Miss Shaw, you did very well!” Lord Petersham smiled at her, Miss Makon taking a drink offered by a servant.
Jane gave a nod. “Thank you, my lord.”
Lord Harrington stepped up. “Oh, come now, it wasn’t just Miss Shaw in there. It was a joint effort, after all.”
“Charlie, old boy, there’s no chance you remembered any part of it. I’d wager you followed after Miss Shaw while she led the whole way.”
Jane laughed, looking at Lord Harrington out of the corner of her eye. “Indeed, you are correct, my lord, for he followed much as a puppy would, I expect.” She felt her stomach leap as she teased him.
“Miss Shaw, you will answer for that slur.” He cocked his head at her while Lord Petersham laughed himself red.
“Indeed sir, I apologize, and as soon as I can manage it, will offer a raspberry tart as an apology.” Now Lord Petersham was beside himself and even Mary was laughing. Lord Harrington shook his head and began to speak, but was cut short.
“My lord, I must congratulate you on your win. How very clever of you to figure it out so quickly!” Cynthia moved forward hooking her arm through his, her eyes only for him. Sir Reginald was frowning at a plate of meat, his hand holding a drink, while Lady Harrington’s neck had softened considerably.
The tenor of the conversation changed immediately as the Earl of Harrington straightened, his face losing the ready smile. “Thank you, Miss Pratt, but I believe I owe our success to Miss Shaw, who seems to have a knack for this sort of thing.” His mouth twitched, but his eyes stayed quiet.
Cynthia turned to face Miss Shaw without really looking at her. “Thank you, Miss Shaw, for bringing him safely through the maze so quickly.”
Jane gave a nod, her face matching Lord Harrington’s.
“Now, my lord, might you show me your mother’s gazebo? She mentioned how you designed it yourself,” Here Lord Petersham mumbled something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like ‘burned down’, “and I confess myself curious to see it.”
Lord Harrington shot his brother a look as he silently offered her his arm and turned towards the gazebo.
“Miss Makon, Miss Shaw, should you care to accompany me to the gazebo as well? It is a short walk and well worth the effort.” His smile was for them both, and as Miss Makon didn’t appear at all put out by the addition of her company, Jane took his other arm.
They walked a little ways before Mary spoke. “Did Lord Harrington truly design the gazebo? That is quite a feat, I should think. I have a hard enough time designing a pincushion to my satisfaction.” They all laughed companionably.
“Indeed, Miss Makon, he did, for it was due to an ill thought wager that it met its demise and our Mother thought it only fitting he rebuild it from start to finish.”
“Another wager? You two must have been a sore trial to your mother. With each new anecdote I find I have new respect for her.”
“Miss Shaw, I assure you we were much worse than even I have presented us.” He shook his head. “We did improve with age though, and I am sure the worst of our antics are over.”
“And Lady Margaret too, must have had a softening effect on you both.” Mary’s comment turned Lord Petersham’s head.
“You would think, Miss Makon, but we merely dragged her along on our adventures. She was quite the hoyden until our mother put a stop to it and forced her to learn some manners.”
Mary smiled. “And yet here we go on purpose to see this lovely gazebo as designed by your brother. I confess myself still very impressed.”
He leaned his head a little toward her. “Yes...you’ll notice Our Dear Mother didn’t tell the incomparable Miss Pratt he burned it down first.”
Jane commented. “You know, my lord, I believe if you continue to roll your eyes in such a manner, they are sure to stick to the back of your head.” Her mouth bent up, betraying her.
Lord Petersham tilted his head back and laughed, while Mary spoke. “You must admit, Jane, there seem to be a great many things for him to roll his eyes at around here.”
The two of you are against me, I see and I must redeem myself. Perhaps a chess game between the pair of us?” His eyes were on Mary.
“I am no hand at chess, my lord, but Jane appears to be.”
“Then Miss Shaw, perhaps when you have tired of losing to my brother you may come and lose to me.”
“You are impertinent sir.” But Jane shook her head as she laughed.
“Now Miss Shaw, I must confess, I had hoped for a moment to speak to you about something. Miss Makon, I hope you will give your opinion too.” Both women murmured assent and he began. “Charles and I have taken it upon ourselves to rid this house of that blue couch.” Jane made a noise. “No, Miss Shaw, I assure you it is not for your benefit alone. Merely we feel the time has come and your concordance in this matter merely encourages us.”
“The blue couch in the drawing room?” Mary looked at Lord Petersham, her hazel eyes wide.
“Yes, of course.”
“Ah. It is rather....”
“Indeed. We had hoped to do so without offending our mother if possible. I assume you two very genteel ladies would have some idea to go about this that doesn’t involve our typical,” he cleared his throat, “endeavors.”
“I rather think you could manage it without burning down the house, my lord.” Mary said dryly.
“Yes, well, for the life of me, I can’t come up with anything better than that.” His face looked serious, but he quickly spoiled it by laughing. “Oh come, ladies, I cannot believe you would think it of me. I assure you I normally have excellent ideas that don’t involve destroying anything.”
“And why must it fall to your lot to come up with an idea?” Jane glanced at Mary who shook her head.
“Oh, I come up with all the ideas and Charles tells me how we can accomplish them. He is excellent at knowing how the dominos fall, as it were.”
A few minutes passed as they bandied about suggestions that would never work, extracting a promise from Lord Petersham that he wouldn’t do anything drastic.
Eventually they found their way to the gazebo where they found Miss Pratt’s face a little whiter than usual as she moved away and began to walk back alone. Lord Harrington’s jaw was set as he looked out at the grove of trees, the resemblance to his mother at that moment rather striking. He turned to see them, his eyes catching on Jane’s.
“Well, I think it’s time to play croquet, if everyone has returned from the maze.”
“Ah, only this time, I think Miss Makon and I will beat you, Charlie. No offense to Miss Shaw, of course.” He bowed, and Jane just smiled.
“Nonsense. I am sure if Miss Shaw plays croquet as well as she does chess she has a fair chance of beating you, Georgie.” Lord Harrington had made his way to her side.
“Only allow me a few moments to enjoy your efforts, my lord.” Jane grinned to herself as she said this, but he caught her barb.
“Oh ho, I see George has told you what’s what.” He gestured with his arm. “Well, I can assure you my gazebo is in every way superior to the old one. It was made of wood, you see, and grew mounds of green stuff that the servants had the very devil of a time removing.” He stopped and turned red as he looked down at her. “I beg your pardon, I forgot myself.”
Jane smiled, “It is forgotten.”
Mary asked him a question, and Jane wandered over to the far side of the gazebo to view the woods she frequented and have a breath alone. The silence was calming and she breathed in the afternoon sun while she enjoyed the quiet moment. After a few minutes, she knew she should return to the group. Turning, Jane ran into someone.
“Ooof!” Lord Harrington backed into a stone pillar.
“My lord! I beg your pardon. I did not realize you were behind me.” Jane’s hands were up in anticipation of helping him, but she stopped just shy of actually touching him.
“It is my fault, for I snuck up on you most unfairly.” He straightened, then straightened his coat, and then adjusted his hat.
“As we are both sorry, perhaps we can both be forgiven and return to the games.”
He smiled and held out his hand. “Agreed.”
She put her hand in his and he held it a moment, his eyes growing serious. “Miss Shaw. I should tell you...” But he didn’t tell her anything as they stood there a moment longer, her heart growing faster while her skin grew hotter as she realized they were pulling closer together.
“Charlie, old boy, where’ve you got off to?” They sprung apart just as Lord Petersham came around the corner. He eyed the red faces and the hands clasped behind backs and grinned.
“Well, perhaps we could return to the games, what?” He clapped Lord Harrington on the back. “Did a bang up job pairing us up, I’d say.”