Nine

The many elements which were needed to insure a successful outing seemed to fall into place for Anne. First, Lord Mainwaring good-humoredly accepted Anne’s sudden invitation to ride in the park without questioning her motives. Then Cherry sent word that 1) her mother had given permission for her to go, and 2) Arthur had agreed to join them. Lastly, the weather seemed to bestow its blessing upon the excursion; the sun was surprisingly warm and the wind obligingly mild for a day in March.

At the appointed hour, Anne came down the stairway to find Lord Mainwaring already in the foyer awaiting her arrival. She observed with pleased surprise his very creditable appearance. He was wearing the new coat which Weston had delivered the day before. It was of dark green superfine, superbly cut to fit smoothly over his broad shoulders and to emphasize his narrow waist. His buckled, Manchester-brown breeches clung without a wrinkle to legs which she hadn’t realized were so shapely, and his new topboots gleamed. “Why, Lord Mainwaring,” she exclaimed approvingly, “you look positively British!”

“I reckon you mean that as a compliment, ma’am,” he said sardonically, “so I thank you.”

“You suppose I meant it as a compliment, my lord,” she said in her most obnoxiously schoolteacherish tone. “Suppose, not reckon.” And she swept past him and out the door.

Together they went to the waiting phaeton. Jason, glancing at the well-sprung phaeton and the lively grays, requested permission to take the reins. “Of course, my lord,” Anne told him. “After all, the horses and carriage are yours.” Nevertheless, she felt a twinge of misgiving as Jason climbed up beside the coachman, for the grays that had been harnessed to the carriage were an exceptionally high-spirited pair. She sat back in her seat nervously as they started out, but it took only a few minutes during the short ride to Half-Moon Street through the heavily trafficked streets for her to realize, with relief, that Jason showed remarkable skill with the ribbons.

When they arrived at Half-Moon Street, and Cherry and Arthur came out to meet them, Anne did not have to hint to Jason that his company would be desired inside the phaeton. With surprising graciousness, he surrendered the reins to the coachman and joined the group.

The introductions were made, and Anne signaled Jason to help Cherry into the front seat. While he was complying with this unspoken request, Anne beckoned Arthur to climb up beside her. Jason, therefore, had no choice but to sit next to Cherry. Since both seats of the phaeton faced forward, Jason found himself faced with the problem of making conversation with a tongue-tied, blushing girl who had not enough courage to turn her eyes to him. After a few attempts to draw her out on such subjects as the weather, the number of carriages clogging the streets, and her very fetching bonnet, he gave up and relapsed into silence.

On the seat behind, Anne tried to whisper apologies to Arthur for having forgotten to meet him the day before. He responded politely, but he was obviously very offended, and his manner was stiff and cool. The possibility that their conversation might be overheard by the occupants of the seat in front of them hampered further discussion, and their ride to the park was passed in a silence as awkward as the one being endured by Cherry and Jason.

Fortunately, the ride was not long. When they arrived, Anne suggested that they walk through the park to exercise their legs, a suggestion that was approved eagerly by the others. They climbed down, and the coachman turned the carriage out of the road to a place where he could wait for them to return. For a moment, they stood looking about, unable to decide which of the many charming walking paths they should take. It was at that moment that a high-pitched laugh echoed from the lane to their right. Instinctively, all their heads turned. There, too far away to greet but close enough to be seen clearly, stood a gentleman in the uniform of a cavalry officer, helping a ravishing young lady to dismount from a horse. The lady was wearing a close-fitting riding costume in dark red and a very dashing riding hat which was cocked to one side of her head and sported a captivating white plume. “Now that is someone I’d like to meet,” Jason muttered to Anne without taking his admiring eyes from the lady in question.

Anne, quite aware of the identity of the horsewoman, glared at Jason in irritation. Why did that odious Lexie de Guis choose this particular time to make an appearance? Alexandra de Guis, daughter of a French emigré and an English lady, was the one girl in all of London whom Anne wanted to keep from Jason. Lexie, the reigning beauty of the season, and of several seasons past, and called “La Belle” by all the bucks of the ton, could capture a man’s heart by the mere flick of an eyelid. Not only beautiful, she was clever, poised, stylishly elegant and tantalizingly unreadable. Men adored her and women detested her.

Anne was determined to keep Lexie from making Jason another victim of her long list of conquests. She therefore promptly took Jason’s arm and turned him into the lane to their left. “This way looks more inviting, does it not, Cherry?” she said gaily, and hurried them away from a possible encounter with the riders. If she was aware of the raised eyebrows and amused expression on Jason’s face, she took no notice of them.

As the strollers walked deeper into the park, the lane narrowed, leaving room only for two abreast. Anne linked her arm in Cherry’s, and the two ladies preceded the gentlemen down the path. “You look just as you ought,” Anne whispered to Cherry with approval. “I told you that the feathered bonnet would be charming with your spencer.”

Cherry, still feeling shy and uncomfortable, nodded without conviction. “Yes, Lord Mainwaring was kind enough to comment on it.”

“Did he?” Anne asked gleefully. “I knew he’d take notice of you!”

Cherry looked at her friend lugubriously. “He was only being polite. After all, he had to say something, especially since I couldn’t think of a thing to say to him.”

Anne cast a quick look over her shoulder. Arthur and Jason seemed to be conversing comfortably enough. “Cherry, I don’t know why you must behave in this missish way. There are dozens of things you and Lord Mainwaring could say to each other.”

“What things?”

“Oh, for goodness sake, Cherry, look about you! Everything you see can be commented upon. Isn’t the prospect of the park itself, with its tiny buds of green about to burst into life, worth remarking upon? How about the trees? You could ask if they are like the trees in America. Asking about America could very well supply conversational material for weeks! And then, you could ask him how he does with his dancing—after all, he did tell you about it yesterday. And there’s his new coat. Weston delivered it yesterday. Doesn’t he look complete to a shade? I never quite believed that clothes could effect such a change in a man, but there he is, quite up to snuff.”

“Really, Anne,” Cherry said with a touch of reproval in her voice, “you cannot expect me to compliment him on his coat!”

They came to a fork in the path, one branch leading upward to a grassy knoll where there was a bench with a fine view of the prospect below, and the other downward to a lake where a number of swans floated in graceful arrogance. “We must make a decision,” Anne said, turning to face the gentlemen who had caught up with them. “Since you are the newcomer in the park, Lord Mainwaring, you may choose our direction. Shall it be the lake with the swans or the knoll with the bench?”

“Oh, let’s see the swans, by all means,” he answered decisively.

They turned into the downward lane. As they did so, Anne took Arthur’s arm, forcing Lord Mainwaring to drop back and fall into step beside Cherry. After a moment, however, Anne stopped. “Oh, dear, there’s something in my slipper,” she murmured, limping. “Please take me up to the bench, Arthur. I’m afraid there’s a pebble lodged in my shoe. Cherry, dear, go along with Lord Mainwaring. We’ll catch up in a moment.”

The imploring look cast at her by Cherry and the mocking gleam she saw in Jason’s eyes told her that her ruse had not fooled them, but since no objection to her suggestion was voiced aloud, she had her way. In another few moments, she was seated on the bench, with Arthur kneeling before her in an attempt to remove her shoe. “Never mind that, Arthur,” she said impatiently. “Just sit down beside me. I want to apologize to you.”

She launched into a penitent, heartfelt explanation of her thoughtlessness the day before, and Arthur, melting at the sincerely contrite expression in her eyes, forgave her. She then told him eagerly about the arrangement she had made with Lord Mainwaring concerning her marriage settlement. If she had expected Arthur to be overjoyed by her news, she was doomed to disappointment. “But I never asked … that is, I have no wish for a settlement or anything else from Lord Mainwaring,” Arthur said with obvious disapproval.

“But, Arthur, I don’t understand!” Anne was completely taken aback. “Isn’t that the very thing your mother wants for you?”

Arthur shook his head impatiently. “I’m not interested in what Mama wants. What I want is to marry the woman I love without assistance from a man who is a stranger to us both.”

“He’s not a stranger to me. He is, in a way, responsible for me. Have you taken him in dislike, Arthur?”

“No, not at all. He seems a very decent sort. That, however, does not mean that I can endure living on his charity.”

“You are being much too nice in your attitude, my dear. Besides, we cannot marry without Lord Mainwaring’s financial assistance.”

“Yes, we can, as I explained to you before. I’ve thought it all out. If I take the living in Shropshire (and, by the way, I’ve already taken steps to sell the country estate which will support my mother and sister), we can manage very well without his lordship’s generosity.”

“Do you mean the vicarage? Surely, Arthur, you were not serious about that! It was a suggestion made only out of desperation, was it not? Now that I’ve found a more acceptable solution—”

“It is not a more acceptable solution to me. I was quite serious about the Shropshire plan, and the only flaw I see in it is the necessity to make a Gretna marriage.”

Anne stared at Arthur as if she’d never seen him. Could he really want the life of a country vicar? Or was the thought of the need for assistance from a stranger so repugnant to him that anything, even a Shropshire vicarage, would be preferable? “Oh, dear, I see we’ve come to an impasse,” she said slowly, “but we cannot solve the problem now—not with Cherry and Lord Mainwaring waiting for us. We’ll have to continue this another time.” With a troubled frown, she rose from the bench.

“But you haven’t let me remove the pebble from your shoe,” Arthur pointed out.

She glanced up at him with a mixture of impatience and guilt. He was always so disconcertingly honest! “Really, Arthur, you are sometimes incredibly naive. There was no pebble.” And to avoid his reproachful stare, she hurried down the path.

When she and Arthur finally caught up with their friends, Anne found to her chagrin that Cherry and Jason had been joined by another couple—none other than Lexie de Guis and her companion. Their horses had been tied to a nearby tree, and from the flirtatious smile on Lexie’s face, the interested gleam in Jason’s eye and the bored expressions on the faces of Cherry and the cavalry officer, Anne deduced that the meeting had occurred quite soon after she and Arthur had left. As they approached, they heard Jason remark to the lady, “Shucks, ma’am, most of the men in America are much taller than I. Why, back home, they find me positively puny.”

Alexandra de Guis threw back her head with a peal of hearty laughter. It was some moments before Anne managed to divert her attention. “Good day, Miss de Guis,” she said loudly.

Lexie turned to her at last and flashed a brilliant (and, to Anne, triumphant) smile. “Ah, there you are at last, Miss Hartley. We’ve been passing the time waiting to say good day to you. May I present Captain Edward Wray? Edward, I don’t believe you’ve met Miss Hartley or her escort, Lord Claybridge.”

While the men shook hands, Lexie tapped Anne’s arm with her riding crop. “You are a naughty puss, Miss Hartley, for keeping this charming cousin of yours hidden away. Not that I blame you,” she added with a sidelong glance at Lord Mainwaring, “for if I were in your place, I might have done the same. But you must not be permitted to do so any longer.” With that, she again turned to Jason, smiling up at him enticingly. “Did you hear that, my lord? Take warning. Now that I’ve discovered you, your period of seclusion is over.” Then she took her escort’s arm. “But come, Edward. We must go. The horses should not be kept standing any longer.”

She strolled off on Captain Wray’s arm without a backward glance, but every eye followed the pair until they had mounted and ridden off into the trees. As the four strollers turned and climbed the path back to the carriage, Anne had all she could do to hide from the others her intense vexation. The afternoon had been a failure for three of the four of them, but the fact that the fourth had so obviously managed to enjoy himself immensely somehow made her feel that the day had been worse than a failure—it had been a positive disaster.