Authors: Shirley Marks
Tags: #Historical Romance, #Love Story, #Regency Romance, #Romance
The next morning after breakfast, Augusta had managed, without much difficulty, to persuade Lord Fieldstone to accompany her to the Lapidarium, a natural
outcropping of stones, named by Muriel, that comprised
a garden overlook that had been formalized when the
Duke had a roof and steps added some years back.
While walking from the terrace to the Lapidarium,
Augusta thought perhaps this might be her chance to
sate her curiosity.
"I enjoyed your performance last night," he told her.
"Some believe that it is quite risque for a lady to play
the violin."
"It is only an instrument, my lord. Drawing the bow
over its strings would no more cause me to go to the
devil than playing the harp would guarantee me entrance
into Heaven"
"I believe Lord Carlton declared it probable last
night."
Had that been a joke? Augusta stared at him. The
Viscount was not laughing, nor had the corners of his
mouth turned up in a smile.
He turned from her and took note of their surroundings. "I must commend your family on their upkeep of
your home," Lord Fieldstone told her after she fastened
the ribbons of her bonnet and slipped her hand into the
crook of his arm. "Faraday Hall has splendid grounds,
immaculately cared for."
"We have always enjoyed living here," Augusta
replied. "As children we made good use of the maze in
particular." She watched his responses carefully. "We
also helped ourselves to the carrots out of the garden to
feed to the horses, and we thought the kitchen staff
would never miss them."
His eyes widened just a touch before he commented, "I would venture to say that you were wrong"
"Probably, but they never scolded us"
"Ah, you were wild children then," he jested, at least
Augusta hoped it was such.
"Completely out of hand!" She chuckled, hoping he
would follow her lead and do the same. "Here we are"
They came to a halt before the ivy-covered, small
stone elevated structure off in one corner of the rear
gardens, and most important, just outside the maze.
She lifted the hem of her skirt and preceded him up
the five steps.
"My word, what a sight," Lord Fieldstone exclaimed,
taking in the view. "This is amazing."
"Papa had this small pavilion built so we could see the
center of the maze, just in case we were to lose our way" She pointed at the tall hedges. "You see the animal topiary on the outside? They mark the different paths"
"I see a camel, a lion, an elephant, and a giraffe."
"That's right. I believe the real reason for constructing this lookout was so he could find us when we hid
from him. We were wild children, if you will recall."
"Ah, yes. Your father is an astute man. There is no
use fighting what he cannot control"
"Exactly." Augusta glanced at him from the corner of
her eye to see if she'd managed to coax even the smallest smile from him.
She had not.
Sterner measures were called for. Augusta thought
perhaps it best if she were to ask him outright. "Lord
Fieldstone, do you ever have any fun?"
"Fun?" Lord Fieldstone gazed at Augusta, narrowing his eyes. "I have had my fair share of fun, I can assure you."
What concerned Augusta was that he did not deny it
with a smile.
"I enjoy many pleasurable activities, from collecting
snuff boxes to walking sticks, and drizzling on occasion."
That was a relief to hear. He did engage in enjoyable
pursuits. Although tugging gold threads free from old
tapestries was not how she imagined him passing his
free hours. Augusta could not find it in her to become
excited at the thought he might have some lovely spool
boxes that rivaled his snuff box collection.
Still the Viscount did not smile, nor did he elaborate
on his hobbies. What he did was abruptly change the
subject. "What lies beyond the conservatory?"
"The orchard to the west, moving south there's the stables and then the pond" Augusta pointed to the manor's
edge, far beyond the rear garden, opposite the maze.
"One can see the water better from the knot garden"
Augusta was so desperate for him to smile that she finally told him the story of the first, and only, time she
baited her fishhook. She regarded him after the tale and
could not even decide if he enjoyed the anecdote.
"Ah, yes. That is quite charming, very amusing."
But this did not alter his staid expression.
"What a delightful child you were-filled with curiosity and very brave," he commented in a tone that
conveyed his satisfaction.
He thought it was just as humorous as Augusta had.
Either he was incapable of smiling or Richard had
been wrong. The story was not funny.
"Well?" Muriel and Charlotte sat in Augusta's bedchamber, waiting to hear the outcome of Lord Fieldstone's interview.
Augusta glanced at each of them in turn and walked
by. Could they not wait until she changed her clothes?
Until she sat? Even for two minutes?
"It appears the Viscount is incapable of laughter,"
Augusta told her sisters as she sat at her dressing table. "I cannot find the smallest evidence of joviality in him."
"I knew it, the man is as dull as dishwater." Muriel
brightened in the knowledge that she had been correct.
"Oh, I am sorry, Gusta. Does that make you think
less of him?" With a tilt of her head, Charlotte's sympathy threatened to overwhelm Augusta.
She did not want sympathy of any kind. There was no
shame if Lord Fieldstone was not the man she thought
him to be, the man she would have wished him to be.
"It is of no consequence. There are many other gentlemen and there must be at least one among them who
you will find agreeable." Charlotte turned her face away
and whispered something to herself or to Muriel, but
clearly, it was not meant for Augusta's ears.
"What is that you're saying, Char-Char?" Augusta
urged her sister with a pat on her arm, then glanced at
Muriel, trying to decipher what new complication her
sisters had planned for her.
"I'm afraid we really must insist, Gusta," Charlotte
repeated a bit louder.
Augusta stared at Muriel, counting on the comprehensive explanation that would soon follow.
"Char-Char means Lord Ce-treece, Gusta," she enunciated quite distinctly.
"Who?" Augusta could not recall any gentleman by
that name.
"Moo, do stop," Charlotte scolded. "We call him by
that name so no one will know to whom we are referring"
"Unfortunately, you include me" Augusta stood,
crossed her arms, and waited for clarification.
"Moo is speaking of-" Charlotte glanced about to
make certain they were not overheard, and whispered,
"Sir Benjamin Pelfry."
Augusta felt quite taken aback. "Sir Benjamin? He is
perfectly agreeable and most amiable. I have even seen
him laugh on more than one occasion."
"He is completely addle-brained, perhaps even mad," Muriel interrupted, quite passionate in her response. "I
believe deviant would not be too harsh a term."
Both Charlotte and Augusta gasped.
"This very morning that man told me that I was to retreat from the small pitcher of orangeade on the sideboard in the breakfast room"
"Whatever for?" Odd behavior, perhaps, but Augusta
could not conceive why that would make him a deviant.
Muriel affected an air, imitating the baronet, and
continued, "I could not possibly appreciate the finer
qualities of a freshly prepared citrus extract"
"He was speaking of a beverage, was he not?"
Charlotte must have not been sure she had understood
correctly.
"Yes," Muriel said with a firm nod. "I'm telling you,
Gusta, that man has an unnatural affection for fruit, citrus in particular. I heard that he even asks for sliced
lemon for his tea."
Even Charlotte could not suppress a small cringe.
"I would not be shocked to discover that he had been
pinching the oranges from the foyer trees!" Muriel's
voice rose with the heated accusation. "The two trees
standing in the Grand Foyer, have you noticed the number of fruit decreasing?"
Augusta had.
Citrus? There was something about citrus ... and oranges in particular ... Augusta tried to recall. A month
ago while she was in Town, Sir Benjamin had sent a tribute of sweet-smelling orange blossoms tied with a white
satin ribbon. The day after their visit to Kew Gardens he had sent her candied orange rinds, which she had enjoyed with Emily on the morning of her departure.
"I forbid you to marry him," Muriel announced. "In
fact, I insist you rid us all of his presence at once!"
Augusta thought both Muriel and Sir Benjamin had
overreacted that morning. Her hope was that in a few
years, Muriel would outgrow her need for dramatic vignettes. But what of Sir Benjamin? If he did, indeed,
have an unnatural affinity for citrus, how was Augusta
to know if he loved her or her family's orangery?
"Oh no, Gusta, you must rid us of him." By the determined tone of Muriel's voice she was already formulating some sort of plan to be rid of him.
"It will have to wait. I am to meet Mr. Allendale for a
boat ride on the pond" Augusta collected her parasol,
gloves, and bonnet.
"He brought you to the Exeter Exchange, as I recall,"
Muriel mused. "I'm sure you won't need protection
from any ferocious animals on our property"
"Unless he expects to find tigers hidden in the nearby
shrubbery" Charlotte chuckled.
"I shouldn't think so, but you might beware of some
kind of assault, Gusta," Muriel commented. "Not from
the water but from your companion."
"A good afternoon to you, Lady Augusta, and to you,
Mrs. Parker," Mr. Bertram Allendale greeted them at
the edge of the knot garden ten minutes later.
"You and my niece may proceed, Mr. Allendale. I
shall observe from here" Aunt Penny fastened the ribbons of her bonnet.
"Very well, Mrs. Parker." Mr. Allendale held out his arm, offering to escort Augusta to the pond. "Good fortune is indeed shining down upon me. I am so very delighted to have this opportunity to spend some time with
you, ostensibly alone. Your suitors have made themselves
scarce and their number seems to dwindle by the hour."
"There are other pastimes at Faraday Hall besides
keeping my company." Augusta tucked her parasol under her free arm. "You gentlemen seem to have no
limits when it comes to entertaining yourselves"
"There may be other activities but none more important." A genuine smile filled with charm graced his
face. "Ah, here we are. Is this our vessel?"
"It is. Do you approve?" Augusta had no idea what
she would do if he did not, for there was no other boat
available.
"It appears seaworthy" He strode onto the small dock
and looked the boat over. "If you, and your aunt, will forgive me" Mr. Allendale arm-waved to Mrs. Parker, who
stood in the distance, acknowledging her presence. He
removed his jacket and deposited it, along with his hat,
on the bench, and made quite the show of rolling up his
shirtsleeves. "Although we are not chaperoned, I know
that one is not far off, and I must prepare to take hold of
the oars"
Augusta thought it might not take much encouragement from her to have him flex his muscles, to strike a
pose or two for her amusement before he stepped into
the rowboat.
After embarking, he reached out to help her step safely
on board, and she sat at the stern, facing Mr. Allendale,
who sat in the center. Augusta opened her parasol and
rested it upon her shoulder.
Mr. Allendale used an oar to push the boat from the
dock before taking his position. An almost audible grunt
erupted from him as he began to row.
The boat pulled away, gliding with ease across the
smooth surface of the water.
"This is lovely, is it not?" Hatless Mr. Allendale
squinted into the sky and then glanced over his shoulder.
"It's a very nice afternoon," Augusta agreed. The boat
pulled behind a willow tree, where sight of them might
have been obscured for some short period.
Mr. Allendale stopped rowing and leaned from port
to starboard.
"What are you doing?" An unsettling feeling, not
of their circumstance but in question of his sanity,
grew.
"I am merely testing the boat's stability." Mr. Allendale swayed to his left and right, doing his utmost to increase the motion.
"If you think you're frightening me, you are very
much mistaken," Augusta cautioned him.
"Oh, come now, my lady, surely you must be a bit
concerned. Perhaps you would like to sit closer to me?"
He patted the space, the very small space, next to him.
"Here?"
"I do not think that would be advisable." Especially
for someone whose company she had growing doubts
about sharing. She had thought him agreeable and admirable. She soon amended her opinion of him to odious
and tyrannical.
He pulled in the oars and stood, rocking the boat
from side to side with more animation.
"Mr. Allendale, what do you think you're doing?"
The soundness of the craft did not worry Augusta. Her
companion's questionable actions did.
"I just thought I'd stretch my legs." He then used the
weight of his entire body. Water splashed around them,
some into the boat as he leaned side to side.
Augusta cried out more at his audacity in attempting
such a feat than in fear that their vessel should be overturned. She dropped her parasol on her lap, clasped the
sides of the boat with her hands, and increased the
rocking motion. Mr. Allendale was not prepared for her
attempt and lost his balance.
She watched his eyes fly wide open before he soared
through the air, as if in slow motion, landing in the
pond with a loud, crisp splash.
"What I really find worrisome," she shouted over the
edge at him, "is that you are probably not as confident
in the water as on the water."
"Lady Augusta!" Mr. Allendale's struggle soon ended
and he appeared quite able to remain afloat. It seemed
water immersion was not as dire as it was inconvenient.
"Please, I beg you!"