Part 13 (1/2)
”On the contrary, he will be delighted.” Lady Catherine was calm. ”It is in every way an eligible connection. To be sure, my rank is higher, but your family is nearly as ancient and I am given to understand ... That, is of course, the settlements are between you and Papa. I shall write and tell him the good news at once. You may kiss me, Cheverell.” She took a step toward him.
”1 cannot think that wise, considering our present situation.” He backed away. ”That is, I must not take advantage of you by accepting your kind offer, but it will be equally unwise to publish our news too soon. You will not want it to be said that I offered only because you were compromised. Besides, I cannot like to disappoint Miss Brennan and Miss Davis, and Louise and Eliza would make my life deuced uncomfortable. In fact, it is particularly important that you do not tell Mary, for she is bound to let it slip to her sisters. Let us wait until after the end of the house party.”
She considered. ”Perhaps it will be best. I confess, I should prefer not to tell Papa that we were stranded together in the depths of the countryside. Of course, if it should later prove necessary, I shall not hesitate to disclose everything.”
”Why should it ever be necessary?” asked Adam blandly.
When at last they drove through Little Fittleton, past the vicarage, Adam knew that everyone else must have reached home long since. He could only hope that Sarah was at the back of the vicarage, unable to see his late arrival with the triumphant Lady Catherine at his side.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN.
Sarah had not seen the curricle drive past, but she learned of its delayed return the next morning. Lady Cheverell, on her way to visit a neighbour, called at the vicarage.
”My dear, I bear another invitation,” she announced. ”Such a gay time as we are having! Louise has planned a picnic for tomorrow, if the weather holds fine, at the c.u.muli over by Tilshead.”
A glorious, if momentary, vision of ladies and gentlemen picknicking among the clouds crossed Sarah's mind before she realized her visitor was referring to the prehistoric tumuli scattered across Salisbury Plain.
”A banquet among the burial mounds? An interesting notion.”
”Adam has praised Lydia Davis's riding, you see, so Louise wanted to choose somewhere that can only be reached on horseback.”
”But you and Sir Reginald will not be able to go.”
”We old folks will be quite content to stay home and gossip, my dear. I pa.s.sed the age for picnics long since, and it is Louise's turn to parade her protegee. Miss Brennan showed to advantage at the ball, and Lady Catherine had her chance in Salisbury. I quite thought she had made the most of it, too, when they returned so late yesterday, until I learned they had stopped here to ensure that you had reached home safely. Well, I must be on my way. Shall you go tomorrow?”
”I would not miss it for the world,” said Sarah grimly.
It was the outside of enough that Adam had used her as an excuse for dallying with Lady Catherine, especially after pretending he was reluctant to drive the girl home. Sarah had every intention of taking him to task for it. However, he did not call that day. Swan and Kerry, who dropped in for half an hour, said that he was gone out on estate business. They accepted a gla.s.s of Madeira and ate all Mrs. Hicks's fresh-baked shortbread.
”I say,” remarked Kerry wistfully, eyeing the empty plate, ”that was deuced good. Don't suppose your cook would let us make gingerbread men again one day? Haven't had so much fun since I don't know when.”
”You haven't made so long a speech in the presence of a lady since I don't know when,” Mr. Swanson said in surprise.
”Miss Meade ain't like other females.” His eyes turned to Sarah with a hopeful devotion that reminded her of a puppy begging for a walk.
”I'll ask Mrs. Hicks,” she promised, smiling. ”I cannot suppose she will have any objection.”
When the gentlemen took their leave, Swan drew her aside for a moment.
”You're doing poor Kerry a world of good,” he told her, his voice serious. ”He managed to answer Lady Bradfield without blus.h.i.+ng the other day. He's right, you're not like other females. Dashed sight kinder than most, for one thing. I'm glad I came down with Adam or I'd never have had a chance to make your acquaintance.”
There was a thoughtful expression on Sarah's face as she watched them ride down the village street.
The next day dawned sunny but with a brisk breeze chivvying a few c.u.mulus clouds across the sky like frightened sheep. It was perfect weather for riding across the hills. Nonetheless, Adam had distinct misgivings about the proposed outing. Yesterday he had managed to avoid seeing either of the young ladies to whom he was engaged, except in company. However, a party on horseback was bound to straggle and both would undoubtedly expect him to stay close to them.
Quite apart from other considerations, the thought of plodding along beside Miss Brennan or risking his neck with Lady Catherine was enough to ruin his day.
Lady Catherine unwittingly solved his problem when she sought him out in the library, where he had retired to ponder his fate after breakfast. She glanced around, saw that he was alone, and dropped the three books she was carrying on a table.
”There,” she said with satisfaction. ”Everyone will suppose that I am merely looking for something to read. I declare I am quite enjoying our little deception, Cheverell. It is just like acting in a play.” She leaned over his chair and brushed back the lock of hair from his forehead.
”And a very fine actress you are, ma'am,” Adam hastened to a.s.sure her, ”but you had best keep your distance lest someone comes in. I am sure no one has the least notion of our secret, and it would be the greatest pity to waste your efforts. Much as it disappoints me, I must not make you the object of any particular attentions today.”
Her vanity thus appealed to, she agreed. She took a couple of books from the shelves and departed holding them before her in an exaggerated attempt to disguise her purpose. Adam breathed a sigh of relief and went to look for Miss Brennan.
Unlike Catherine, Vanessa had never prided herself upon her acting ability, so she was somewhat surprised to be congratulated upon it. Adam had to add a suggestion that close proximity might make it impossible for him to keep his hands off her, which had the merit of being perfectly true. He wanted to put them around her neck. At last, still pouting, she agreed to accept his apparent neglect. He went off to make last-minute arrangements for mounts for his guests, with plans for separating Sarah from them floating in his head.
His plans were doomed to failure. From the moment they reached the vicarage and Sarah mounted the docile mare he had chosen for her, Swan and Kerry stuck like leeches on either side of her. He did not dare single her out by attempting to displace her cavaliers. As he rode behind the merry trio, his irritation grew as he noted how at ease his friends, even Kerry, seemed to be with her.
Distracted as he was, his eldest sister found it easy to ensure that Miss Davis was at his side when they left the village behind.
The horses spread out, finding their way across the trackless turf in small groups. Sarah's two besotted swains, both bruising riders, kept pace with her cautious canter. She sat straight and slim in her grey habit, but to Adam's searching gaze there was a certain tension in her bearing. He vowed to make it his business to see that she rode regularly in future, as long as she lived in Little Fittleton.
Jonathan, with Christian forbearance, lagged behind at a walk beside Miss Brennan, while Lady Catherine galloped ahead with Mary and her husband. All in all, Adam was not displeased to ride with Miss Davis, suiting their pace to the terrain. She was not an enlivening companion, but at present he felt more in need of soothing, and it was a relief not to have to make conversation. She was more than satisfied with his occasional remark about the fineness of the day or the beauty of wide horizons uncluttered with trees.
The barrows rose from the plain ahead, low, green hills too steep-sided and regular in shape to be natural. Adam remembered iron-age battles he and Jonathan had fought here, with Sarah unwillingly cast as the captive princess or, if she protested strongly at that role, as the invading Roman army, doomed to defeat.
He wanted to wander with her among the burial mounds, reminiscing. Instead, he helped Miss Davis down from her horse and escorted her to where the grooms sent ahead from Cheve had spread rugs and cus.h.i.+ons in the shade of a solitary yew.
Mary and Lady Catherine were already unpacking the hampers the grooms had brought, producing veal-and-ham pie, cold chicken, cheeses, cherries, bread and wine and lemonade. Miss Davis went to help, and Adam stood chatting with Mary's husband, watching as the rest of the party rode up. He would have gone to help Sarah dismount but she avoided looking at him and accepted Kerry's aid with every evidence of pleasure. Adam was shocked by the lance of fury that stabbed through him at the sight of her hands on Kerry's shoulders, his at her waist, her smile as he swung her down.
He turned back to invite Miss Davis to sit beside him, and plied her with food until she was quite bewildered. He tried not to look at Sarah, but it was impossible not to be conscious of her presence. She seemed to him to be flirting wildly, in a most uncharacteristic and unbecoming manner, with Swan and Kerry. Trying to persuade himself that what he was feeling was not jealousy but concern for her disappointment when neither came up to scratch, he absently offered Miss Davis a third red-currant tart.
Her timid refusal drew his attention at last. He looked down to see her plate piled high with untouched delicacies.
”Not hungry?” he asked with a kind smile. ”Nor am I. Shall we go for a stroll?” All he wanted was to remove himself from Sarah's vicinity.
”If ... if Lady Edward says I may.” There was a hint of alarm in Miss Davis's expression.
Adam had not the slightest doubt of his sister's approval, and he was proved right. The alarm on Miss Davis's face deepened as Louise whispered to her, and she returned to Adam with a faltering step. As they moved away from the picnickers, he set about relieving her apprehension.
”Jonathan and I used to come here often on our ponies when we were children,” he told her. He described their battles in a way calculated to make her laugh, and at last succeeded in winning a smile.