Chapter Six

Warm sunlight bathed my face. A cloth tickled my nose. I swatted it away and rolled over. I stretched out, for the first time all night. Daisy wasn’t curled up beside me.

“Can’t I go down to breakfast without her?” My sister whined. “You know she’s a beast to rouse in the morning.”

“I don’t think that’s wise. Miss Rose is acting as your chaperone.” Emily’s voice, as always, was calm but firm. She often tempered Daisy’s impulsiveness.

“But I’m hungry. The day’s halfway over.”

I bolted upright. “What time is it?”

Emily pulled a face. “After nine, miss. I tried to wake you at dawn, like you asked, but…”

With a groan, I fell back on my mattress. I was too late. Given Frederick’s impatience last night, he would have left at first light. I’d lost my chance with him.

“Get up,” Daisy pleaded, yanking my arm halfway from its socket.

“Ouch.” I recoiled. Turning my back on her determined expression, I cocooned myself in the blankets. “Leave me alone. I’m staying abed.”

Daisy wailed. “But we’re at the most romantic house party of the year.”

“And the object of my affections is no longer here.”

Silence smothered the room. Then the left side of the bed dipped with Daisy’s weight. I yelped as it carried me toward her. When I wrestled free of her sunshine-yellow skirts, I glared at her.

Her pale blue eyes widened. “Rose, I didn’t realize you were in love.”

So much innocence and caring shone from that gaze, I had to look away. Daisy would lose that cheerful outlook on life soon enough. I didn’t want to defile her optimism today.

“You should have told Mama you were in love. She wouldn’t have made you come.”

Throwing off the blankets, I stomped out of bed. Emily, with a sky-blue walking dress draped over her arm, pointed to the dressing screen in the corner. I hid behind it, thankful to be out of my sister’s piercing gaze.

I told her, “Mama doesn’t care if I’m in love. She only cares if I marry.”

“That’s not true—”

I wish it wasn’t. But Mama agreed with Papa, in this case. In their eyes, I had turned down too many proposals.

A sharp rap at the door interrupted the conversation as Emily lifted the nightgown over my head. One of the buttons snagged in my hair. I whimpered, waving my hands to signal her to stop. With the nightgown thrown over my head, blinding me, I groped for the offending button. Emily batted my hand away as she dealt with it.

The door to the room opened, sharpening the muffled sounds of footsteps and occasional piece of chatter.

“Are you ready for breakfast?” Mary asked, her tone as brusque as ever.

The rustle of skirts drifted to my ears, maybe as Daisy shifted in place. “I think Rose is still dressing…”

“Go,” I called, my voice horribly muffled. “I’ll join you momentarily.”

“What did she say?” Mary asked.

Emily laughed. She unsnarled the button and lifted the nightgown away from my head. “Take Miss Daisy down. I’ll be done with Miss Rose in a minute.”

Daisy’s slippers clicked against the floor as she stepped out of the room. “Did you know Rose is in love?”

I groaned. Daisy, why would you say that?

Francine’s absent voice answered, almost out of earshot. “No, she’s not.”

“What do you mean she’s not? She just told me. Give me that book. You can’t read while you’re eating.”

Pauline’s voice entered the mix, exasperated. “Miss Francine, why did you run off? I haven’t finished with your hair.”

“You haven’t? It looks fine.”

“Your hair will escape your pins within the hour if I don’t add more. Come here…”

The door to the room shut, cutting off their voices. I slumped against the dressing screen.

Emily rapped me between the shoulders. “Posture, miss.”

I straightened.

“Good. Now don’t be so glum. I’m sure you’ll have a lovely time at the party, if only you give it a chance.”

I pressed my lips together. At Emily’s direction, I was dressed within minutes. She directed me to the squat little vanity. It didn’t even have a wide mirror to watch as Emily fashioned my hair. As she removed the curlers from my hair, I toyed with the oval hand mirror, flipping it to look at my reflection, and then tracing the roses embossed into the back.

I thrust the mirror onto the vanity surface, facedown. “Take my place.”

Emily stilled with her hands wrapped around two long locks of hair. She juggled the pieces into one hand to remove the hairpins from her mouth. “I beg your pardon, my lady?”

“Take my place.” In fact, with repetition, the desperate idea gained merit. I’d rather spend the day brooding in my room than in whatever festivities Lady Dunlop had planned. I didn’t have the energy to participate today.

I tried to twist my head, but Emily held me firm with an iron grip on my hair.

“I don’t resemble you,” she said.

I waved my hand. “Of course you do. Blond, blue eyes, relatively tall. We’re interchangeable.”

“Hardly,” she said, her voice laden with discouragement. “That tactic might work from afar or amongst people you’ve never met, but you met everyone last night. They’ll know.”

“Maybe not. Lady Dunlop handed out quite a bit of wine and stronger spirits last night.” The lie tasted bitter. She was right; it would never work. I’d lost my chance with Frederick, and no amount of brooding would entice him back.

When I hung my head, she tugged on my hair to straighten me.

“What has you so glum, Miss Rose?” Her voice was muffled. She must have replaced the pins in her mouth.

“Daisy’s right. I am in love,” I bemoaned.

She tucked a pin into place, and removed the ones from her mouth long enough to say, “Why does that have you down? You’re always happiest when you’re in love.”

“He doesn’t return my feelings. And now I’ll never have the chance to woo him.”

“I thought wooing was the gentleman’s job.”

I shook my head. She jabbed me with a pin. I winced. “Well, it is, of course. Once I convince him he must. But now he won’t have the opportunity. He returns to war,” I added, making a face.

Emily tsked. “A soldier is not the man for you, Miss Rose. You wouldn’t be happy if he left you at home and went off to war.”

“I could go with him,” I suggested, but the notion intrigued me not at all. In fact, I abhorred it. Maybe she was right, and Frederick wasn’t for me.

But Francine’s mother and father were the two most different people I knew. A more successful and loving marriage I could not name, despite what Francine had to say on the matter.

“I trust you’d give me a good recommendation.” Emily wrestled a few more strands into place. “I won’t leave England.”

I wouldn’t, either, as well she knew, but I appreciated the fact that she didn’t point it out.

I sighed. “What if you wore one of my dresses and strolled in the garden all day? Be mysterious and aloof. No one will know the difference.”

“Your dresses are too long for me and too tight in the chest.” She pinned one last strand into place to hold the braided bun to my head. “There. Have a look, miss.”

Reluctantly, I snagged the hand mirror. “I look lovely,” I said, resigned.

She smiled and plucked the mirror out of my hand. “You always do.”

Armed with nothing but a chiding smile, Emily ushered me off of the stool and toward the door. “Go. Have breakfast. Perhaps you’ll feel better.” A mischievous twinkle entered her eye. “Maybe you’ll fall in love with another worthy gentleman.”

Unlikely. The rest of the eligible men here were boors. Lord Hartfell’s half-dressed form sprung to mind. He was the king of boors.

With heavy, reluctant steps, I descended to the breakfast room.

I stopped short in the doorway. Men and women crammed shoulder-to-shoulder along the narrow breakfast table. At the far end, Frederick dug into a plate piled high with steaming eggs and bacon. Relief weakened my knees. He hadn’t left.

The sole vacant chair squatted at a diagonal angle from Frederick, squashed between my sister and Lord Hartfell on the end. Bless Daisy, she must have saved it for me. I danced to the sideboard and without paying attention to my choices, I directed the footman to ladle a bit of everything on my plate. I waited for the footman—who must be of an age with Lady Dunlop—to set my plate on the table before I claimed the seat.

Hartfell was not accommodating. He didn’t budge an inch as I squeezed beside him. My skirts bunched, riding high on my leg, which pressed intimately against his from hip to knee.

He raised an eyebrow. “Quite the appetite you have there, Miss Wellesley.”

Oh dear. I’d chosen more food than I usually ate in a day. It threatened to spill off my plate and onto the table.

My cheeks heated like a furnace. I funneled that heat into a glare. Hartfell’s smirk didn’t waver.

Ignore him. If only that were possible.

Turning to the object of my affections, I said, “Captain Paine, how wonderful you decided to stay the day, after all.”

“Not the day, Miss Wellesley,” he corrected. “I only weathered out the night.”

At that moment, our hostess, Lady Dunlop, darkened the doorway. Her arrival barred any notion of escape. “I won’t hear of it, Frederick,” she said with feeling. “You’ll stay for the games, of course. And dinner. I won’t send you home hungry.”

Beside me, Daisy leaned forward. Curls of her blond hair, escaping the ribbon Emily had so carefully wound into it, almost brushed her food. I pulled her hair back, over her shoulder, as she exclaimed, “There will be games?”

Lady Dunlop smiled. “Of course, dear. What else would you hope to do at a house party?”

“Relax in silence.”

Hartfell muttered the words in such a low voice, no one heard but me. I cast him a sideways glance, but he maintained a neutral expression as he picked at his food. His plate was nearly empty.

My stomach rumbled. I dug into my mountainous plate of food. I’d forgotten all about it.

“In fact,” Lady Dunlop said, with a broad smile capping her round face, “the first game will begin shortly.”

Across the table, Pachycaul nearly spat out his drink. He spluttered as he coughed. Mary walloped him on the back. He glared at her but muttered a thin, “Thank you.”

She wisely retracted her hand, though from her expression, she didn’t seem the least bit wary of his ill mood.

To the hostess, he said, “Whatever do you mean? We’ve only just woken up.”

“Speak for yourself,” said the gentleman at the end of the table nearest the door. “I’ve been awake for hours.”

He folded the newspaper he’d shielded himself behind, revealing an annoyed expression. Mr. Wray, if I recalled the introductions last night. From the white threading his brown hair at the temples, he was over forty.

“It’s after half ten,” Lady Dunlop said, clasping her hands over her chest. “I’ve sent people to rouse any young ladies still abed. As soon as they dress and come down, we’ll begin.”

“Shouldn’t we have a chance to digest our food?” Hartfell asked dubiously.

“Certainly,” Lady Dunlop said. “Young ladies take a great deal of time to dress. I imagine you’ll have half an hour’s time for your…digestion.”

She leveled such a glare in his direction, that he immediately dropped his gaze to the table once more. He shoved the plate away.

I hurried to pile food into my mouth before Lady Dunlop removed the plate from under me. Judging from her beady glare, she refused to delay her precious festivities for an instant. In fact, I pitied the poor women and men who hadn’t yet risen. They’d miss their breakfast.

Unconcerned, Mary piped up, “Francine should be down presently. Her maid, Pauline, was battling with her hair when I came down.”

Lady Dunlop smiled. “Thank you again, Mary, for agreeing to share a room with her last night. We were much put out by the rain and I didn’t quite have enough space to put everyone.”

I canted my head. “Are they all still here?” I should have guessed by Frederick’s presence and that of Captain Beckwith on Daisy’s other side. But all those people…surely Lady Dunlop hadn’t found rooms for them all.

“Unfortunately not,” the lady said with a sniff. “Those from the village returned last night despite my warnings. And the baronet and his wife left this morning, it seemed she was ill. But I convinced a few stragglers to stay the night.”

Across the table, Frederick gave a wan smile. He, too, pushed his plate away, mostly uneaten.

“I fear I must depart as soon as possible, Lady Dunlop. I thank you for your generosity, but I must return to the front. I have a duty to which I must attend.”

He leveled a glare in Captain Beckwith’s direction. Unconcerned, the young man continued to butter his bread. “Nonsense,” he said. “The war will still be there tomorrow.”

“Simply because I take my duty more seriously—”

“Too seriously.”

“—does not make it any less important. Would you have Napoleon overrun us?”

Captain Beckwith lifted a dark eyebrow with chagrin. “Because you are the only person stopping him from doing so?”

Goodness, they bickered like brothers. If Frederick hadn’t worn such a dour expression, it might have been heartwarming. As it was, he looked far from in the mood to propose to a woman. I couldn’t have that.

I cleared my throat. “Perhaps you’re both right. Surely the war will wait for a few more hours, as important as it is.”

They both leveled a sour expression in my direction. Oh dear me, what had I done?

Fortunately, Lady Dunlop intervened. In a loud voice, she harped, “I won’t hear of you leaving before supper tonight. Either one of you. And Frederick, you’ve barely touched your breakfast.”

“I wonder why,” Hartfell drawled under his breath. Again, too low for anyone not seated directly beside him to hear. Was he speaking to me? I bit my lip to stifle the urge to smile. Better he not know he entertained me. His ego would swell to the size of this house.

At that moment, he shifted his weight beside me. His thigh brushed against mine anew, reminding me of how close we sat. Color stained my cheeks. My breath caught as tingles erupted up my leg.

Ignore it. Pretend he isn’t here. If only it were so easy.

Forcing a smile, I said, “What game do you have planned this morning, Lady Dunlop?”

A sly expression crossed the hostess’s face. “Why, you’ll have to wait until we’ve lined up on the lawn to find out.”

Pachycaul groaned. “It’s an outdoor game? Please tell me you’re kidding.”

“It’s a lovely day,” Lady Dunlop said, though from her tone of voice it might have been raining hellfire outside.

“The heavens poured down last night,” Pachycaul pointed out. He flicked a lock of hair out of his eyes. “Everything will be sopping wet.”

“I didn’t know you were made of spun sugar,” she said primly, lifting her nose in the air.

Pachycaul made a face, but held his tongue. A wise move.

At that moment, a slim figure squeezed past Lady Dunlop’s form. She cleared her throat. “Oh dear. The table is full.”

Lady Dunlop turned with a winning smile. “Ah, Miss Johnstone,” she exclaimed. “The ladies are awake. Come, we’ll adjourn to the backyard, and I’ll inform everyone of the first game of the day.”

Pachycaul gave a dramatic sigh as Lady Dunlop disappeared from sight. “I’m starting to regret accepting this invitation.”

I nudged Hartfell. Pressed between him and Daisy, I couldn’t stand. The lout didn’t budge an inch.

Across the table, Frederick stood in a fluid motion. “Miss Johnstone,” he greeted the figure. He crossed the room in two steps and offered his arm. “Will you do me the honor of accompanying me?”

She daintily laid her hand on his sleeve. Oh blast. They were getting away.

I elbowed Hartfell in the side, hoping he would take the hint and stand. He didn’t. Fortunately, on my other side, Daisy jumped to her feet with the aid of Captain Beckwith. Finally, I had enough space to leave the table.

Hartfell’s shadow fell over me as he, too, straightened from his chair. Of course. I turned my back to him.

“How rude of me,” he said. “Miss Wellesley, would you care to accompany me to the yard?”

Mary, judging by her glower, would have said no. But the other gentlemen’s eyes rested on me. A glint lit Pachycaul’s gaze, as if he hoped I would refuse just so he could offer next. If I let him sink in his claws, I’d be stuck with him for the rest of the day.

I laid my hand on Hartfell’s arm. “Thank you,” I told him.

His face dropping, Pachycaul turned toward Mary.

“Don’t even think of it,” she said to the air.

He thought better of asking to escort her. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he whistled as he retreated from the room.

Mr. Wray followed him with just as much reluctance. After offering Daisy his arm, Captain Beckwith vacated the room, leaving Hartfell and I utterly alone. When I took a step forward, he didn’t budge.