Peggy stared at her. She needed to deflect the question of children. She was not ready for this topic. Certainly, the lady played no games, Peggy thought. She came straight to the point.
“I apologize for being blunt,” the lady said. “I never asked if you had been married, but you carry yourself in such a private manner, like one who has suffered but grown stronger for it. And… the way you looked at those children… as if you were struck by a memory. So, forgive me for being presumptuous, but I thought that since you were traveling alone perhaps you might be a widow.”
“Oh, no. I am not…” Peggy could have kicked herself.
Didn’t she plan to pass herself off as a young widow? Now she had ruined the ploy. The playing children had completely undone her. Peggy was well known for having complete control of her features, for not revealing what she was thinking or feeling, for maintaining the artifice of being without any care or concern. It was the only thing that had protected her during her long enslavement. It was the only thing that had kept her captors from finding out about her son and using threats to his person against her. Her friend Marilee had been the lone soul she had fully allowed to pass beneath her protective walls at that time. How was it then that this relative stranger had read her so well, and with only a glance? She did not know this woman. She could not trust her.
“That is, I’m not married. I…” she began to explain but halted as she considered her answer. She was not one for falsehoods and dared not risk any that might make it more difficult for her to claim her son. As the lady had asked the question direct, anything but the truth would, in fact, be a lie. Still, she was not yet prepared to release her secrets upon the town. The last thing that she wanted was word of her arrival to reach her son and his keepers before she had a chance to make the explanation herself. “I…” she began again but was saved in the moment by the arrival of a handsome young gentleman who swooped up behind Lady Nora and placed a beautifully embellished jeweled headpiece upon her curls. Nora squeaked her protest.
Peggy thought that he was quite the most handsome gentleman that she had ever laid eyes upon. Her heart did a little leap in her chest. In the next moment, she was berating herself for her foolishness. She had no time for such dalliances, and no doubt the man was the husband of her new friend. She demanded that the rush of emotion immediately cease. Her foolish heart ignored her.
“There now, my dear,” the man declared with triumph, “you may no longer claim the woe of having not had a new coronet in a-ges.” He droned the last word as the lady must have time and again in his presence.
“Goodness Nash.” Lady Nora giggled as she removed the headpiece and inspected it more closely. “This is not a coronet at all, it is a bandeau, but thank you all the same. I do not suppose these gems are real.” She touched them gingerly.
“Of course, they are,” he laughed. “They are real glass, or perhaps real paste.”
Peggy smiled at his wit.
Lady Nora chuckled. “I love it dearly, nonetheless.” She raised to her toes and pulled his cravat so that he would bend down that she might press a kiss to his cheek.
The man was uncommonly good-looking, Peggy thought, as she attempted not to stare. His twinkling eyes were filled with merriment, and a swatch of dark hair begged a hand to push it from his sparkling eyes. She wanted that hand to be her own. The thought filled her with an uncommon heat which she resolutely denied. Hadn’t she once let her passions run away with her? She could not allow such things now. She had a son to find.
She shook her head to rid it of the romantic notions. She was quite past such things at her age. She had a child to think of. In any case, the man was quite probably the lady’s husband. She repeated the thought most sternly. Yes. That would explain why she was out and about without a chaperone. Her gentleman was here escorting her about the village. An unwelcome stab of jealousy rose within her.
Then, the lady groaned. “Good heavens, Peggy, you must think that I have unutterably poor manners. I must appear to be obsessed with buying new things, as it is all I’ve done today. As much as I love shopping, I promise it is not so. I only want Nash here to understand that a successful town must possess accommodations for the fairer sex. I’ll admit that I have been needling him on purpose just to make the point.”
“Well then!” The gentleman laughed and snatched the headpiece from atop her head. “If you have only tricked me, then I suppose I ought to take it back!” He bowed with much posturing to Peggy herself.
“You will not!” Lady Nora slapped at his arm and grabbed the jeweled contrivance back with far too much ease, indicating that he had intended her to keep it all along, or perhaps this was a game that they had played in the past. Lady Nora placed the hat on her head, shoved the man’s other purchases into her own laden bag, and then pushed the entire bundle into his waiting hands. “Be a dear and carry that for me,” she said with authority.
Peggy found herself smiling at the fashionable pair. Only a short while before, her new friend had been lamenting that adults were inclined to lose their playfulness, but she saw no evidence of that in the twosome. They smiled at each other and made the most attractive couple. Lady Nora with her golden locks and petite form stood in stark contrast to the towering gentleman with sable brown hair and close-cropped sideburns.
“My manners! Nash you always make me forget myself.” Lady Nora shook her head and tucked her arm into her husband’s elbow while offering him a feigned glare.
“You never had manners,” he replied, only to find himself bent over with a sharp jab to the ribs. “Mother has said so, time and time again.”
“I’d like you meet my new acquaintance, Miss Margaret Williams.” Lady Nora gestured toward Peggy, who had done her best to hide her amusement at the pair. “She has helped me to secure tenants for the Barbury house with trades each for husband and wife.” Lady Nora had been more than happy to discover that almost all of the couples traveling with the group could boast no fewer than two skills among the pair, but Peggy knew that such was necessary to make any sustainable living on the road. “And Miss Williams,” Nora turned, gesturing to the gentleman, “may I introduce, Lord Nashall Belton, Baron Whitefall.”
Peggy dipped her head in acknowledgement, “It has been a pleasure to meet you both, Lord and Lady Belton.”
At that, Lady Nora snorted and immediately covered her laughter with her gloved hand.
“No. No. No,” she giggled. “I’m only Miss Honora, not Lady Belton.” The Baron was shaking his head as if the situation were something of a reoccurring joke. Did others mistake the pair as husband and wife? “Nash is the heir to the Viscountcy with the cursory title of Baron Whitefall,” Honora continued. “While I am merely the daughter of the Viscount and styled Miss Honora.”
“Merely,” Peggy blurted. She, in her years of isolation, had fallen out of practice of understanding the complexities of noble lines that had once been drilled into her for hours upon end by her father, who wanted a seat in that esteemed company by way of his daughter’s marriage. She had shoved all thought of that tutelage away, but she knew that a viscount was a lofty title, although Nora was right. A viscount’s daughters were not styled Lady, but ladies they were, nonetheless, as members of the aristocracy in Peggy’s mind. She tried not to let the fact that they were aristocrats lower them in her esteem. They both seemed like surprisingly nice people.
“Merely,” Nora repeated. “It would be presumptuous of me to use the title ‘Lady,’ although the title Lord rightly belongs to Nash. He is my brother.”
Peggy’s mouth fell open in understanding of her mistake. “My apologies,” she murmured and dipped into a truer curtsy. A baron was still far above her social status as a laundress, and perhaps more so as a fallen woman, and Miss Honora Belton was still a lady. She was still a member of the gentry, although she was surprised that they did not have a footman with them to carry packages and said so.
“Oh, my brother likes to drive the curricle himself, and I thought we had not need of a footman,” Nora said with a gay laugh.
The lady was so friendly that Peggy had not credited it. Perhaps her experience with Lady Lydia had changed her more than she wished to admit. It might have hardened her to the fact that not all of the gentry, or even the aristocracy, were abominable. Perhaps she too was prejudiced. After all, Marilee’s friend, Arabella, who was now the Duchess of Manchester, was also a member of the aristocracy and an amicable soul, for all that Peggy did not know her well except through Marilee.
“I did not recognize that you were siblings,” Peggy admitted. “My mistake.”
“Nonsense,” Miss Nora giggled. “We look nothing alike. He’s a big arrogant brute, and I’m…” She paused in thought. “Well, I’m not a brute.”
Peggy frowned. The handsome cultured gentleman in front of her looked in no way a brute, and the boyish grin on his face was at odds with her characterizing him as either a brute or arrogant. She felt an uncommon rush of heat run through her as she looked at the man. He was certainly fine, not a brute at all in her estimation.
“Don’t let my sister fool you. She’s a pest. Meddlesome and mischievous as a wood sprite. And not much bigger than one.” This earned him another jab to the ribs which Peggy realized he was completely unharmed by and only pretended for his sister’s sake.
“Take that back!” Miss Nora demanded, pounding tiny hands on his chest.
Instead, he captured his sister under his arm and turned to address Peggy. “Has she convinced you to join her in one of her schemes perchance? Caught you up for a task? Lured you into her plotting with sweet intentions and the guise of doing good until you are promising something far beyond what you would have ever intended otherwise?”
Peggy had to grin. She wanted to deny the claim but was entirely flummoxed. Never had she been teased so by a gentleman. Like his sister, the brother seemed far too skilled at reading features with only an instant’s glance. She did not want to entangle herself in any untruths, but she did have secrets, or at least a single secret. His name was Adam. Still, as far as she was aware, Miss Nora had not enacted any plans, but Peggy had helped introduce her to the travelers and find new residents for the village. Perhaps it was mischievousness, or perhaps their meeting had been a strike of serendipity. The thought must have shown on her face.
“Ah-ha! So she has!” The Baron laughed.
“There is no meddling when that family needed a place to settle!” Miss Nora defended herself. “The woman was with child and had no right to be on the road in her condition.”
“Shocking,” Lord Belton said, which of course it was, but his countenance showed no sign of being shocked. Instead, he raised one eyebrow and looked to Peggy for confirmation as if they shared some secret too.
She felt her face once again growing warm and looked toward her new friend. “It is truth,” Peggy agreed. “A good deed all around. And Miss Nora has not put me out in the least. In fact, I’ve enjoyed her company.”
“And a gentleman should be aware of the hardships of his people,” Miss Nora added.
“Until a moment ago, she was a part of the travelers and not ‘my people’ at all,” he protested with all the aplomb of a boy trying to explain away a stolen cookie in his hand.
“Nonetheless,” Miss Nora chirped, “the family is your responsibility now. Furthermore, I offered the terms you suggested, my good sir, and they accepted without any so-called needling on my part. Besides, haven’t you come to do the same? Surely, some people in the tinker’s wagons will want to stay.”
“Gypsies,” Lord Belton said with a sniff. “Father will not be pleased.”
“Father need not know,” Miss Nora said flippantly.
Peggy felt a spike of annoyance at the prejudice. Surely, they would not be speaking to her so candidly if they knew of her family and her situation. Her fine clothing had obviously fooled them into thinking that she was of a higher status than she was. Should she tell them of her humble beginnings, she wondered?
“So, am I the only one who found a couple to stay?” Miss Nora asked, with her head tilted up to see her brother.
He pursed his lips. “I’ve come out of it with a fine chandler and a young man who wishes to make a try at fish mongering, although I’m not sure how many fish are in the river or how skilled the man is at catching them. Still, it is all for father’s new settlement,” he confirmed.
“Your settlement in all good time.” The lady grinned. “We have a draw, two persons each.”
“Not so.” Lord Belton released a deep, rich chuckle, and Peggy noticed the man had dimples, two round indentations in his cheeks which bore evidence that he smiled often. “Yours is only one household,” he protested. “Mine is two.”
Peggy could see that Miss Nora was prepared to dig her heels in and start a row, so she decided to settle the score, in her new friend’s favor, of course.
“Two workers in one household makes room for even more to make their homes,” she declared. “They are a family and of two different trades. Quite efficient of Miss Nora, don’t you think? Two workers, and yet only one roof to be maintained over their heads.”
Lord Belton turned sharp blue eyes in her direction, and Peggy was taken aback that she had not noted how vivid the color was earlier. They were quite arresting. She caught her breath. Then, those eyes softened and grew full of merriment. He nodded and declared his sister the victor, to which she cried out with joy and clapped her hands.
“This will suit for my spoils.” Miss Nora grinned and waved her new headpiece at her brother.
Peggy did not bother to point out that he had already presented it as a gift to keep and that Miss Nora might have chosen another prize, but Peggy surmised that the victory was more in the words and decided that as she had never been graced with a sibling of her own, she was unused to the intricacies of what was very clearly a solid bond. They were clearly a gentleman and a lady, and yet they had the playful spirits that she had only seen among the common folk or the very young.
Confused, Peggy excused herself from her new friends and found her way back to the inn where warm tea and soup awaited her. Lord Belton’s countenance followed in her mind’s eye, and his handsome face would not cease to haunt her imaginings.
What was wrong with her? She could not possibly allow any feelings for Lord Belton to cloud her judgement. Hadn’t she learned her lesson that noblemen could not be trusted, no matter how sweetly they smiled? She put Lord Belton firmly from her mind, but perhaps she could be friends with his sister.