held up a purple velvet pouch that clanked when he shook it.
“Yeah, Uncle Huxley!” Deirdre started the applause, but everyone joined in.
Huxley gave a nod to Shermont and his horse, several yards distant. “That high-strung brute of his got spooked by a rabbit, or else Baby here would have been a close second.” Huxley patted his horse’s neck. “Nice race,” he called to Shermont.
“Did you ask the girls about the play?” Whitby asked Teddy.
Mina turned her attention to her brother. “What play?”
“We’re all going to put on a play,” Parker jumped in excitedly. “Just like when we were in school, except with real girls to play the female parts.” His voice trailed off at the end.
Blushing, he steered his horse to the outside of the pack as the carriage halted.
“We’re here,” Aunt Patience trilled as she alighted from the lead coach.
“What’s the play about?” Deirdre asked.
“There’s a princess in distress, a witch, a pirate, an enchanted frog, dastardly deeds, and a happy ending,” Teddy said.
“Can I be in the play,” Mina asked. “Please, please, can I?”
“All the young people will have a role,” he promised.
“Unless they don’t want one,” Shermont said as he rode by.
Eleanor watched as he dismounted. He said something to the stableboy as he handed over the reins that made the youngster grin while he led the horse away. She couldn’t reconcile the man who’d callously hurt her feelings the previous night with the one she observed. He helped Mrs. Maxwell across the field to where several tables had been set up. Minutes later, his deft grab saved a footman from taking a header with a large tray. Shermont was helpful and courteous to everyone without making a big deal. To everyone except her.
Which didn’t really matter, because in the dark sleepless hours before dawn, she’d decided to pay no attention to him. Not that she intended to cut him directly. That would be noticeably rude, and then she would have to explain her actions to Deirdre or Mina or Teddy. No. She would pretend he didn’t exist unless circumstances necessitated speaking to him. And then she would be excruciatingly polite. Much the way Anne Eliot behaved toward Fredrick Wentworth when they met again after eight years in Jane Austen’s
She didn’t believe in love at first sight. Lust, perhaps. But pheromones and hormones were not love. And lust could be controlled.
Unfortunately, a campaign of indifference was far less satisfying when it wasn’t even noticed by the target of her premeditated lack of interest. Shermont seemed to be ignoring her.
“Are you going to sit in the carriage all day?” Mina asked.
Eleanor started out of her reverie and realized everyone else was gone, already broken into small groups according to activity. The chaperones sat around a table sipping lemonade. Uncle Huxley, far enough away not to be included in their conversation, read the newspaper. Fiona and Hazel had climbed the stones of the ruins to the lookout point and postured in what they thought were provocative poses. Teddy and the military men had gathered off to one side. From their gestures and the occasional word carried on the breeze, she could tell they were discussing the war. Shermont was over by the horses, chatting with the groom and pointing to his stallion’s hoof.
“Come on. Out, out,” Deirdre insisted, motioning for Eleanor to get down. “Stretch your legs before we eat.”
Mina spread her arms. “Welcome to our picnic area. Teddy wanted to build a folly over there, but we insisted he keep it natural. Isn’t it gorgeous?”
“Yes, indeed.” The top of the hill had been sliced off, leaving a broad, smooth, grassy field ringed by woods. A few trees had invaded two or three strides into the clear area as if on purpose to provide shade.
“We’re going to pick wildflowers for the tables. Would you like to come with us?”
“No … ah … thank you, no.”
“Are you ill?” Deirdre asked. “You are a bit pale.”
“I’m fine. You go ahead.” The sight of Huxley reading the paper had reminded her of an earlier idea to check for news items that might entice Shermont to return to London. “I’m going to have some lemonade.”
“Are you sure?” Mina eyed the table full of chaperones with a grimace.
“Go on. Pick lots of flowers.”
“If you’re determined to go over there, be warned. Don’t let them draw you into a game of whist, not even for pennies. You might win the first hand or two, but before you know it, you’ll owe them three months pin money.”
“Mina! You didn’t!” Deirdre said. “No wonder you didn’t buy those beautiful pink ribbons we saw last week.”
“I promise I won’t play cards with them,” Eleanor said.
As Eleanor passed the group of men, Major Alanbrooke caught her eye. He raised an eyebrow as if questioning whether she wanted to join the conversation. She shook her head and continued walking toward the tables.
“Ah, here’s our fourth,” Patience called as Eleanor approached. “Won’t you join us for a few hands of whist?”
“Thank you, but no. I don’t know how to play.”
“Then now’s the time to learn. We would be glad to teach you how to play,” Patience said with a smile intended to be sweet, but it failed to hide the avaricious gleam in her eyes.
Mrs. Maxwell stifled a giggle with her hand, and Mrs. Holcum took a quick sip of lemonade.
Eleanor declined the invitation and approached Huxley. “May I join you?”
He jumped up and reached to tip his hat, which wasn’t on his head. He looked around as if wondering where it could have gotten to and then chuckled. “The boy has not returned with my hat.”
With his bald head, green coat, plaid vest, and well-worn brown leather breeches, he reminded her of an overgrown leprechaun. She liked his unpretentious air.
“Please, have a seat,” he said. “I’m honored.” He folded the paper and took his seat next to her. “May I take this opportunity to thank you for the good luck charm?”
“I’m sure your horse didn’t need it. I heard you won by several lengths.”
Huxley laughed. “Indeed I did. Still, I should have sought you out earlier to thank you.” He looked at his clasped hands. “I regret we weren’t closer before you moved so far away, but you always preferred the company of your younger cousins.”
His statement seemed to question why she was there. “I saw you reading the paper and wondered what interesting events were happening in London. I’ve been away so long I feel like a stranger in a foreign land.”
He nodded as if he understood. “Just the typical news. A new statue was dedicated in Hyde Park. As if we need another statue there. The usual war news from Spain and Portugal. Some good. Some not so good.” He tapped the paper with his finger. “Oh, a clerk high up in the Ministry has been arrested as a French agent. Tut, tut. What is the world coming to?” He turned the paper over. “Ah, this should interest you. The Zoological Society has acquired a new animal—an American buffalo.”
“Oh.” Eleanor tried to hide her disappointment. She doubted those items would entice Shermont back to London. She would need another plan.
“I have been planning a trip to America myself. It’s one of the places I must see before I die. I am a lepidopterist, you know,” Huxley added in a conspiratorial tone.
Eleanor had no idea what he was talking about, but it sounded suspiciously like a contagious disease. She scooted her chair further away. She put her left elbow on the arm of the chair and slanted her body in that direction. She rested her cheek against her fingers, trying to assume a casual pose. “Really?”
He leaned closer. She retreated until she was afraid she would tip the chair on its side and land sprawled in the grass.
“I have over five hundred specimens.” He waggled his eyebrows.
