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Joseph slept fitfully, his dreams filled with visions of him calling all the guests by the wrong name, including Mr. Melbourne. Though the worry was ridiculous, he woke feeling less than ready to join the others.
He could only surmise that he was even more distraught by his mistake about Lady Harriet’s identity than he’d realized. It mattered because she mattered. He couldn’t imagine getting off on the wrong foot any worse, especially with a lady to whom he was attracted.
Charles drew back the curtains, a signal it was time to rise. Joseph sat up, wondering how best to proceed with the day. The week would be over before he knew it, and he worried he wouldn’t accomplish anything.
He had to admit that spending time with Lady Harriet had become a priority as well. She intrigued him as no other lady had. He gave himself a mental shake. Ladies were not part of his plan, but he didn’t think he could resist the lure of her.
“Good morning, my lord,” Charles said as he walked to the wardrobe to select the proper attire for the day. “I’ve brought warm water if you’d care to wash.”
“Thank you.”
“I managed to speak with Reverend Henderson’s servant in the kitchen this morning,” Charles continued.
“Oh?” That perked Joseph’s mood. “Anything of interest?”
“Not yet. The man is an odd sort with a German accent. Seems to prefer to keep to himself but have no fear. I will wear him down until he talks.”
“I have complete faith in your abilities,” Joseph said with a smile.
“I think he’s merely self-conscious about his accent. I told him it was intriguing. We’ll see if that warms him up.”
“Excellent.” He’d already shared his dismal failure to remember Lady Harriet’s name and his mistake of thinking she was Miss Melbourne.
Charles had chuckled. “Perhaps the error will endear you to both ladies. You’ll have your own private jest between you to refer to.”
Trust his valet to shed a positive light on the faux pas. Then again, it might just work.
After preparing for the day, Joseph made his way to the dining room and the welcome scent of coffee and breakfast. Several other guests were at the table, including Sinclair. The sideboard held all manner of offerings, and Joseph made his selections before joining Sinclair.
The weather was fine once again with the morning sun shining through the tall windows.
“Care for a ride this morning?” Sinclair asked. “Martin was here earlier and mentioned several others are venturing out after breakfast. Apparently, his father is an early riser and will be riding as well.”
“I’d like that.” Joseph made a mental note to rise earlier tomorrow morning to see if he could catch Mr. Melbourne when fewer guests were about.
The coffee and breakfast served to wake him fully, and he walked with Sinclair to the stables where several horses had been saddled and were ready for guests.
It didn’t appear as if any of the ladies were joining them. Luckily, there was no sign of Henderson either.
Soon the group of men, including Martin and his father, were riding across the fields for a tour of the estate. The fresh air was invigorating and the view even more so.
Joseph enjoyed looking at other properties with an eye for improving his family’s holdings. However, his hands were tied from implementing any improvements until he inherited since his father had little interest in changing things.
“What crops are grown at your estate?” Mr. Melbourne asked when Joseph happened to ride alongside him.
“Wheat for the most part, though with prices down, that has been less profitable.” The worry weighed on Joseph as it didn’t show any signs of improving.
“Frustrating, isn’t it?” Melbourne frowned, staring at the horizon. “While I think it’s fortunate that food is becoming more affordable for the masses, it makes it less economical to continue to cultivate crops that can be shipped to England more cheaply than we can grow them here.”
The comment gave Joseph hope that Melbourne might be interested in his proposal. From what he could see, landowners needed to make adjustments or risk losing money for the foreseeable future.
If he could learn more about Melbourne’s interests, he could adjust his proposal to better appeal to him. A few more days in his company should provide ample time for that.
After the ride, they arrived back at the house and many of the men gathered in the billiard room once again. When Joseph and Sinclair walked in, Reverend Henderson was speaking to several others in a tone that sounded suspiciously like a sermon.
“God helps those who help themselves,” Henderson said with a nod. “It is clear that providing handouts to the less fortunate only encourages them not to work.”
Joseph gritted his teeth, having heard portions of the same ridiculous ideas from his father. It grated on him when lending a helping hand to those in need had previously been something they agreed on.
“Hmm.” Sinclair stopped a short distance from where Henderson stood speaking. “I’m not sure I can agree with the reverend,” he whispered.
“Nor can I.” Joseph shook his head. “I’ve met Henderson on several occasions and can only say that I tend to disagree with much of what he says.”
“Oh?”
“He agrees with Herbert Spencer’s ideas about survival of the fittest and thinks England will benefit from allowing those who can’t manage to make a living to be left to their own devices.”
Sinclair stared at Joseph in dismay. “As in starve?”
“If that is what happens.”
“What sort of Christian attitude is that?” Sinclair asked.
“Not one I have interest in adhering to.”
“Surely, Melbourne doesn’t agree,” Sinclair said. “He is well known for his philanthropy.”
“I hope he doesn’t. But I’m certain the reverend intends to try to change his mind over the course of the week. No doubt he’d like to receive a donation to his church.”
“For what purpose if he doesn’t believe in aiding others?” Sinclair’s outrage eased Joseph’s mind.
After the frustrating conversations with his father, he had started to worry that he was the only one who didn’t see any logic in Henderson’s message.
“Excellent question,” Joseph said. “One to which I have yet to hear a straight answer.”
“As a guest, I wouldn’t want to offend anyone. But I refuse to hold my opinions to myself if asked.”
Joseph smiled, pleased to think Sinclair felt the same as he did. “As do I.”
Two of the men who’d been listening to Henderson wandered away from the discussion, but one remained—Lord Weston, one of the older guests.
Joseph intended to have a word with the lord if he had the chance to see if he truly agreed with Henderson’s beliefs. The fewer people who agreed with Henderson, the better as far as Joseph was concerned.
~*~
“WHAT IF HE DOESN’T come?” Frances asked in a whisper.
“He’ll come. He said he would.” Harriet glanced once again at the doorway, torn as to whether she truly wanted Viscount Garland to join them for charades.
Frances had told her that she’d never been formally introduced to Garland until the previous evening. He’d caught her notice at a ball when he’d handed her a glass of lemonade at the refreshment table several months ago. She confessed that since that small act of kindness, she hadn’t been able to think of anyone else.
Harriet had held back from telling Frances that she, too, cared for the handsome viscount. Her friend would surely be distraught by the news. What good would come from that? None from what Harriet could see.
She adored Frances, and though she didn’t completely understand her shyness, she held sympathy for her.
“If he does, what if he’s not on my team?” Frances worried her bottom lip as she pondered the concern.
“What if he is?” Harriet countered.
Frances’ eyes went wide as if she realized that was a bigger worry than the previous one.
“It doesn’t matter,” Harriet reassured her. “That detail is out of our hands.”
“Mother insists on reviewing everyone’s ideas for the charades to make certain they’re appropriate.” Her scowl suggested she wished her mother wouldn’t.
“That is a relief, isn’t it?” Harriet didn’t care for the idea of being asked to act out a word or phrase that would prove embarrassing.
“I suppose, though Winifred said it would take the fun out of the game.”
Harriet looked at their friend and fellow league member who’d arrived earlier in the day and sat across the room. “Don’t let her fool you. She wouldn’t want to be embarrassed either.”
“True.” Frances glanced at the empty doorway again. “Where are the gentlemen?”
“I’m sure they’ll be along shortly.” In truth, she rather wished the ladies were playing by themselves first. Games like this were awkward amongst strangers. While it was a way to come to know each other better, it could also be uncomfortable to act out of character.
Mrs. Melbourne arrived with a basket and slips of paper. A glance around the room had her frowning, suggesting she wasn’t pleased that the men had been delayed. “I hope you have all been thinking of a word or phrase to contribute.”
She set the items on the table and gestured for the ladies to come forward. “Now then, everyone write down your idea and add it to the basket.”
A few giggles erupted as the ladies discussed the possibilities, but Mrs. Melbourne reminded them to keep their ideas secret to make the game fair.
“Hurry,” she said. “The gentlemen will be joining us shortly.”
Harriet pondered her phrase as she waited in line to write it down.
“Tell me what you’re going to add,” Frances whispered.
“That would be cheating.”
Frances squeezed her eyes shut for a long moment. “I just know I’m going to get a terrible phrase.” Her cheeks colored as if she were already mortified by the possibility.
“They’re all going to be embarrassing if you ask me,” Harriet said, causing Frances to laugh just as she’d hoped.
Harriet was writing down hers when a tingle ran along her skin. She knew without looking that Viscount Garland had arrived. Drawing a deep breath, she finished writing and stepped away from the table to look, unsurprised to see him standing nearby along with the other men.
In truth, she was thoroughly puzzled by her physical reaction to him. Why him? How could she be attuned to him in this way when she didn’t know him that well?
Then again, marriages were arranged between couples who knew each other less. The thought was a frightening one. Thank goodness her mother wouldn’t insist upon Harriet marrying anyone she didn’t want to.
She shivered at the memory of her mother and stepfather. Her mother had thought him a wonderful person. He’d made them both believe that until it was too late. The memory served as a reminder to be cautious. How did one truly know whether someone was to be trusted?
Then again, who would trust her if they knew the truth of her past?
“A penny for your thoughts.” The deep timbre of Viscount Garland’s voice brought another shiver.
She forced a smile. “An unpleasant memory.” With a stern reminder to better guard her thoughts as her stepfather had taken up too many of them already, she tried to relax. “How has your day been thus far?”
“Enjoyable.” He glanced at her then leaned closer. “Though I confess I’m not excited at the idea of playing charades.”
Harriet laughed even as his scent caught her notice—a mixture of bergamot and the forest. It made her knees weak, much to her dismay. “Nor am I,” she whispered in return. “I only hope I don’t have to go first.”
“Agreed. Do not worry. I will suggest that Martin does.”
She opened her mouth to reply only to see Frances out of the corner of her eye, watching them closely. “As long as he doesn’t insist that his sister follow him. She’s a little shy as you may have noticed.”
“Ah. Then we shall take care that she doesn’t have a turn until later.”
Harriet’s heart melted a little more. What a kind man he was.
“Everyone put their phrase in the basket,” Mrs. Melbourne called out. “Then we’ll stand in a circle to make teams.”
Within a few minutes, they’d divided into teams of four people each and sat in groups. Neither Frances nor Harriet was on the same team as the viscount or each other.
“Martin should go first,” Viscount Garland called out and laughter erupted when Frances’ brother protested.
“Martin, come and select your charade.” His mother’s tone brooked no argument.
With a beleaguered sigh, Martin did as she requested. His demeanor made it easy to picture him as a young boy being forced to do something he didn’t want to do.
He acted out someone playing cricket, which was quickly guessed. A female guest volunteered to go next, but no one was able to guess her actions of tending a garden.
Harriet worried something similar would happen to her. Despite her concern, the afternoon sped by quickly amidst much laughter. Everyone was nervous at first and while some had reason to be embarrassed given their ability—or lack thereof—to act out their charade, all seemed to enjoy the game. Viscount Garland helped to keep the guests in good humor, making amusing remarks in a droll tone.
Frances managed to do a wonderful job with her phrase of walking a dog. Harriet noted the admiration in Garland’s face but ignored the pang of envy she felt.
Soon the game ended, and everyone stood, most mentioning they intended to rest before dinner.
“That wasn’t as terrible as I thought,” Viscount Garland said to Harriet as they followed some of the others out of the room.
“Rather entertaining, wasn’t it?” Harriet smiled. “Be sure not to say that too loud, or we’ll be playing it again tomorrow afternoon.”
Garland laughed, bringing a flush of pleasure to Harriet. “Good point. You were very creative with your phrase. I knew it immediately.”
Her stomach felt as if it flipped over at his compliment. “Thank you.” Pretending to play croquet had been easy enough, but she was still flattered. “May I say the same for yours?”
“Climbing a tree was a bit of a challenge.” He laughed. “Some of the guesses made it clear I wasn’t portraying it well.”
The guests parted ways. Harriet wasn’t ready to hear what Frances had to say or to have to reassure her again and decided to go to her bedroom in hopes of avoiding a conversation.
Yet she realized as soon as she entered her room that she was too restless to lie down. A visit to the library was in order. Deciding she’d prefer to avoid any guests that were of the same mind, she made her way to the smaller library on the second floor which was more likely to be empty.
Relief filled her when she opened the door and found it so. She took her time selecting a book then settled into a chair by the window. She hadn’t been reading long when the door opened.
A mix of delight and trepidation rushed through her when Viscount Garland came into view. She felt guilty when she spoke with him, knowing Frances admired him.
“Lady Harriet,” he said with a smile. “I see you have discovered the secret library as well.”
“Indeed.” She glanced about. “It’s a lovely room and they have an excellent selection of books.”
“I’ll find a book and leave you to the peace and quiet.”
“No need.” Heat warmed her cheeks. Was she being too forward? Yet it seemed ridiculous to keep the whole room to herself. “You’re welcome to remain if you’d like.”
“Thank you.” He turned to the shelves of books and perused the offerings, the silence peaceful rather than awkward.
Harriet returned her attention to the page only to realize she had no idea what it said. With a quiet sigh, she allowed herself to admire the viscount’s broad shoulders as he walked slowly along the shelves.
Yet she couldn’t halt a rush of guilt as Frances came to mind. This could be the perfect opportunity to mention her friend to him.
Suddenly he turned to face her, his gaze meeting hers.
She stilled, remorse flooding her at being caught staring at him. How embarrassing.
“May I ask what you’re reading?” he asked, seemingly unaware of her fascination with him, much to her relief.
“Oh.” She glanced at the book, her mind blank for a moment. “Charles Dickens, actually.”
“You truly do enjoy his work?”
“I do. He wrote from the heart about what he observed around him. I’ve reread his stories numerous times. I suppose it’s like seeing old friends again.”
Garland nodded. “The familiar provides a certain comfort, especially when one is troubled.” He pulled out a volume before looking back at her. “I’m joining you with another one from Dickens.”
Her heart warmed as he walked toward her and sat in the nearby chair. His words lingered in the air between them, and she couldn’t let them go.
“Are you?” she asked quietly. “Troubled, that is,” she added when he glanced up, one brow lifted in question.
He blinked as if only now realizing what he’d said. “I suppose I am. Life is often more complicated than I’d like.”
She nodded, telling herself not to say anything more on the topic. Why would he confide in her when they hardly knew one another?
“Are you familiar with Reverend Henderson?” he asked.
Harriet told herself not to be disappointed by the change in subject. It was to be expected since they were mere acquaintances. How silly to think he might unburden himself to her.
“Only from his time here.” She hesitated to say more though she had already decided she didn’t like the man. He had a sly quality she didn’t trust. In fact, something about him reminded her of her stepfather.
“And?” Garland studied her. “Would you care to share your opinion?”
“I don’t really know him well enough to say.” What if Garland admired him?
“Do you have a first impression?”
Harriet drew a deep breath as she considered how to word it without causing offense. “He seems to have strong opinions on several topics with which I would be hard-pressed to agree.”
The viscount smiled. “I knew I liked you.”
Her stomach flipped again at his easy smile not to mention his words.
“Do you happen to know why he’s here?” he asked.
“No, although the question crossed my mind as well. I thought about asking Frances.”
“This might sound like an odd request, but if you learn anything, would you share it with me?”
Her heartbeat sped at the idea of having a reason to speak with him in private again, not to mention the connection it offered. “Of course. May I ask why?”
“Henderson has befriended my father, much to my dismay. I don’t agree with many of his views, nor do I trust him.” He glanced at the book he held. “Of course, I wouldn’t want to cause any problems for another guest, including him. I’d prefer to have this remain between us.”
“Of course.” But she intended to ask Frances at the first opportunity. It might be ridiculous of her to latch on to a reason to speak with Garland again, but she couldn’t help it. Not when she found him so appealing.
