"Allow me to pass, sir," Muriel glared. "If what you say is true-"
"Do not fear. Mrs. Parker is at present notifying your father, and Sir Samuel keeps watch for the gentlemen's arrival."
"And you're here? Was it your task to inform me?" Muriel backed away from him. His presence, not to mention his proximity, upset her.
"No, I wish to successfully traverse the maze." It did not appear Sir Philip was joking.
"You?" This could not be happening. Muriel knew he'd heard the rumors regarding Charlotte. How could he possibly overlook the talk of the men who had seen her imperfections for themselves? "But why?"
"Because I find myself in love with her-and if it matters not to her whom she weds, why should she not marry me?"
At one time Muriel had to admit she did not care for him. However, he'd befriended Mr. Evans, employed Thomas Sturgis, and had come to Farmer Gilbert's aid-perhaps even saving his farm. She'd begun to think of the baronet differently.
"Unless I am much mistaken, Lady Charlotte is under the impression I care little or nothing for her, because I have not behaved in a manner that accurately expressed my affection." He came around the table displaying much confidence.
His imposing bearing even impressed Muriel. Not what she had expected at all.
"I was, at first, as you might imagine, drawn to her, just as the others had been, by her beauty."
Why did he feel the need to be honest, especially to her? It made his actions respectable, and Muriel had no wish to have her already altered opinion of him elevated.
"I was an unexpected participant in a conversation with Mrs. Parker and Sir Samuel regarding your sister a short while ago." Sir Philip looked down his nose at Muriel while speaking. "I deduced from their abstract reference that I, without their knowledge, might have been the implied subject. I believe I am the gentleman who had not declared his affection for Lady Charlotte and caused her to behave ... out of character."
Muriel glared back. Was he taking responsibility for Charlotte's rash action?
"I imagine if it were up to you, I would have never discovered it. "
"Me?" Muriel had done what she could to keep them apart, though she was not yet ready to admit it.
"I have come to realize that you are her true protector, not her father, His Grace, nor her aunt, Mrs. Parker."
"I am only a girl, a child of fifteen."
He chuckled. "You may be only fifteen, but you are not a child. You are an imp, a most precocious imp, if I am not mistaken. I do not underestimate your influence upon your sister, nor your ability to outmaneuver any person you choose."
Muriel shrugged. "You give me far too much credit, sir."
"I do not believe I do," Sir Philip stated with certainty. "Even with my practiced sensibilities and mastery of decorum, I can restrain myself no longer. You, my girl"-he glared at her-"are a meddling bluestocking!"
"Meddling?" Muriel gasped. Indeed, she had been. "Well, you, sir, are a pompous prig!"
"I beg your pardon!" he said, enunciating every word and finishing with a slight widening of his eyes. "You mistake my concerted effort to accomplish the deeds I consider important. Whereas, I'm sure, you come by your talent naturally."
And he was correct. Muriel had to admit that she did not hold the same opinion of him as she had the day before or that very afternoon, for that matter. Still, he could be unpleasant. "You behave as if you are far superior to any of Charlotte's men."
"I am not better than any other gentleman," Sir Philip replied with all the arrogance Muriel had expected. "I simply dress better."
Her eyelids slid closed and she could not prevent herself from thinking him dreadful.
"We do not have time for further discussion your sister awaits her future husband and the gentlemen grow closer to Faraday Hall. I cannot allow them to find herI adore her." He laid his hand upon his heart and spoke with sincerity. "Yes, she is beautiful, but that is not what compels me to seek her. It is her irresistible inner beauty."
Muriel had done what she could to prevent the baronet from discovering Charlotte's good qualities for himself. As it turned out, it seemed that nothing would discourage him.
"She had more than enough suitors from which to choose," he continued. "Any one of them would have been a suitable, no, an adequate match. Yet she does not choose among them. She does not wish to marry merely a handsome, nor a wealthy, titled peer. Lady Charlotte wishes for much, much more. Someone who would love her for herself."
No one had told Sir Philip of their strategy. How could he have discovered it on his own?
"So you came up with a plan to test them. Rumors of a glass eye, deafness, and a wooden leg then circulated through the ranks. Your doing, I suspect" Sir Philip nodded in her direction, acknowledging her involvement.
Muriel hated to admit he was correct, but she had not thought up all Charlotte's flaws. How could he have known?
"The truth?" he mused, taking in a breath and narrowing his eyes. "Dear, sweet Charlotte is too kindhearted and considerate of their feelings. She cannot bear to turn any of them away. I believe she cannot be truly happy with anyone who remains. I expect you already know that as well."
"You are impertinent, sir." Muriel could not take all the credit or blame. "How do you know the rumors are not true?"
"Oh, come now." He chuckled. "I am not like the young pups who have lost their ability to think, as have the bulk of Lady Charlotte's suitors. Despite her obvious beauty, she has the rare ability to see the goodness in anyone and is in possession of a compassionate soul. Those are qualities, I must confess, I find compelling." Sir Philip rubbed his eyes and his gaze dropped to Muriel.
She strongly suspected Sir Philip's affection for Charlotte. Muriel simply had not wished to acknowledge it existed. She also knew of Charlotte's certainty that he was the man she truly loved.
"And I think she has the most wonderful sisterdevoted, protective, if not a bit sinister. You were trying to save her from me, weren't you? No matter who among the other suitors would be discouraged, or what small lies needed fabricating."
"You are an out-and-out bounder. What you say is pure conjecture."
There was no trace of laughter from Sir Philip now. "You judged me by my exterior. It is the very same egregious error those men made who wished Charlotte for their own"
"They didn't love her," said Muriel. "When they dis covered she was not the perfection they believed, they left" Muriel was right, about most of them, anyway. Yet here was Sir Philip trying to convince her of his affection for Charlotte. "I do not understand why you bother yourself by speaking to me. Shouldn't you beg for an audience with my father?"
"Ah." Sir Philip raised his index finger, pausing for a moment. "I may need his approval for marriage, but I believe I need yours to be successful in my pursuit" He turned to gaze at Muriel. "If I am the first to arrive, then, by her own admission, it is me whom she must wed."
"In any case, I am not needed." Muriel conceded that he was indeed very clever to puzzle their plan out.
"Could you, would you, come to my aid?" he pleaded.
"You want me to help you cheat?" She narrowed her eyes. He was asking the impossible. "Why should I do such a thing?"
"Without your guidance, I would certainly be lost in the maze. Unless I am fortunate enough to stumble upon the center-and this is far too important to leave to chance."
This man stood tall, and seemingly strong, but Muriel knew if she refused to help him he would crumple before her eyes. How fragile he seemed to her all of a sudden.
"I would cherish her always," he vowed in all sincerity. "Because I am not the man you thought I was, because I am the man who dearly loves your sister. Please consider that my future, and your sister Charlotte's future, rests in your hands." Sir Philip's gaze did not waver from Muriel.
The momentous weight of her sister's future happiness sat heavily upon her. Muriel had not been prepared to make this decision.
What was she to do? She did not have the luxury of time f
or contemplation. She thought of Charlotte in the center of the maze waiting for one of her suitors to arrive. Someone she promised to marry, someone she did not completely love. And here stood Sir Philip. Had he successfully convinced Muriel of his love for Charlotte?
Muriel collected paper and pencil and returned to the table. She quickly sketched the route to the center of the maze and handed it to him.
"I thank you," he murmured, accepting what amounted to him as a treasure map. "One last thing. It would also be of great value if you were to help divert the other three."
"You must think me mad," Muriel whispered to him, "for I certainly believe I am for coming to your aid."
"No, I think you love your sister, as do I." Sir Philip gave her a reassuring smile and then left.
Muriel accompanied Sir Philip down the stairs to the rear terrace, where they parted. With the map she had drawn for him in hand, he continued toward the maze.
With the directions, she guaranteed he would be the first to find Charlotte and, no doubt, convince her they should wed. Her fate was now out of Muriel's hands. Charlotte would have her chance, if Sir Philip was the man she wished for her husband.
She headed for the front drive, where visitors, if they were to arrive, would first appear.
"Moo!" Susan called out to her from the shady north side of the house.
Muriel dashed forward to meet her friend. "Has there been any sign of the-"
Sir Samuel came pelting around the front corner of the house and slid to an ungainly stop before them. "Three riders on horseback, about three, perhaps four minutes apart, approach as we speak."
Sir Philip had only just entered the maze. Muriel realized the gentlemen would need to be delayed. The three moved to a position from which they could view the riders.
"It's Sir Hugh Linville," Sir Samuel announced when the first came into sight.
The trio moved back, so as not to be seen.
"He always was keen on arriving early," Muriel mumbled.
"Shall we tell them there's been a mistake?" Sir Samuel offered.
That might well have been a solution, but Muriel did not think it quite right.
"No, we can't do that. Think of the scandal!" Susan stared from Sir Samuel to Muriel with unease.
Yes, that was the problem-the potential for the family's disgrace.
"I do not think we should prevent them from entering the maze. But let us be clear on this"-Muriel met both Susan's and Sir Samuel's gazes, making sure all three of them were in perfect agreement-"we do not want any of these gentlemen to succeed."
"But if you allow them to enter the maze, will they not find the center eventually?" Sir Samuel appeared puzzled.
"No, they will not," Susan assured him. "There is a trick to finding the center, you see? Each of the entrances has their own way to-"
"We don't have time for explanations, Sukey." Muriel turned to Sir Samuel. "Greet Sir Hugh, if you will, and see him to the Elephant entrance of the maze. It's past the Giraffe, on the north side. You must convince him it is the way to the center."
"It's not, correct?" Sir Samuel's gaze wandered to Susan for an answer.
"Do not waste time," Muriel urged him. "Go!"
Sir Samuel acknowledged his instructions with a nod and left. The scatter of gravel sounded with his every step. He soon disappeared around the corner of the manor.
A few moments later, he rounded the corner once again, sliding to a stop before them to say, "Mr. Atwater has just turned onto the drive." Away again he dashed, returning to welcome Sir Hugh.
"Sukey, you must direct Mr. Atwater to the Camel entrance and bid him good luck."
"Very well." Susan shared a very small devious smile with her friend. Growing up with the sisters, Susan knew exactly how the maze worked and would keep the secret to herself.
"I will see Lord Stanton to the Giraffe entrance." Muriel clasped Susan's hands and together they walked toward the drive. "Do not fear, Sukey; everything will work out as it should."
"I hope so," Susan replied with a tone filled with hope. She glanced at Muriel before leaving her side to greet Mr. Atwater.
Muriel stood alone, watching Lord Stanton's highspirited bay turn from the main road onto the drive. While waiting for his arrival, fleeting thoughts of Sir Philip and the directions she'd given him through the Lion opening occupied Muriel.
The easiest entrance, she thought. He would not need to crawl through the hidden underground tunnel, find the small passage only fit for children, or locate the impossibleto-find door that on occasion was overgrown and impassible.
In short, if the baronet had followed her instructions, he should be arriving at the maze's center just about now.
After passing the entrance, Philip made his way down the manicured path, making the indicated turns until he came to the supposed "hidden ladder." He pressed his hand into the foliage wall, setting his boot on the lowest rung. Then he went up.
Once he arrived on the other side, he consulted his map again. The center of the maze, and Lady Charlotte, stood on the other side of his hedge wall. He imagined her lovely smile and her wide, blue eyes staring at him.
He took a few moments to compose himself. In preparation to face her he adjusted his cuffs and plucked at his cravat. Then he knocked off the stray bits of debris from his buckskins and sleeves. Philip stepped out from around the corner.
"Sir Philip!" Charlotte cried out in surprise and drew back at his sudden appearance. "I thought you were ... someone else."
"One of your many gentlemen suitors, perhaps?"
She need not make the confession regarding the letters she'd written, and answered him with a shy nod.
"I am sorry to disappoint you; it is only I." Philip performed a sedate bow, with a sweep of his right arm as the only flourish.
Although his arrival had been unexpected, Charlotte did not behave as if she were disappointed to see him. If only she realized he was here because she had promised to wed the first gentleman who found her and Philip had hoped to claim that prize.
Not wishing to further frighten her, he politely inquired, "Would you mind if I remained until their arrival?"
"I welcome your company, sir. It is very thoughtful." Releasing the fistfuls of material she clutched, Charlotte smoothed her skirts. "I was under the impression you were making preparations to leave us."
"I fear I may be delayed." Had she any knowledge he'd postponed his departure on her account?
"Really?" Her reply implied interest, not regret, over his setback.
"Over the past few days I have been occupied with the repair of my curricle and arranging appropriate reimbursement to those who have been kind enough to come to my aid. Only this afternoon have I realized an unforeseen event that might detain me for far longer than . . ." Philip drew in a breath, realizing the importance of the next fifteen minutes. His discussion with Charlotte could alter his future, depending on the outcome.
"I wish you every success in finding an adequate resolution, then. It would be a shame to delay you any longer then need be."
There would be no shame in speaking honestly. He had to declare himself, his affection to her. If by chance Charlotte did not share his feelings ... It would not matter. If he did not speak his mind, his heart, he had no doubt it would be a lifelong regret.
In a mere half dozen strides he crossed with ease to the center and lifted his quizzing glass to examine the statue.
"I must say this statue has the most exquisite workmanship." He studied the marble with great care. "She seems almost lifelike-as if she might step down from her plinth at any moment "
Charlotte wondered why he had never gazed at her that closely or examined her with similar interest. It was as if he purposely paid her no notice when they were together. She could not imagine why he should do such a thing.
"Is she a relation?" he inquired. "Your-"
"Mother," Charlotte finished, easing onto the stone bench, wishing he would sit beside her. "Her name was Sarah"
Charlotte gazed up at him. "What is it, Sir Philip?"
"I must confess, while I was in the village I heard rather unflattering and unpleasant accounts regarding your-" Sir Philip stopped short of mentioning the details that were all too familiar to Charlotte. "I'm certain the tales were completely unsubstantiated."
"Regarding me?" It had not taken long for word to spread among the gentlemen. Muriel had been correct.
"Do you mind if I have a look for myself and form my own opinion on the matter?" He waved his quizzing glass in her direction.
"What is it you wish to examine?" She blinked at him. Sir Philip proved not to be immune to the gossip, in any case. Here he was now, asking to verify what he'd heard for himself, and Charlotte wondered if he would think any less of her to discover it true.
"I hope I am not being indelicate." He concealed his polite cough with the back of his hand and moved closer to the bench. "I hear tell you have a glass eye."
"Oh, that" Charlotte swallowed and looked away. She had the distinct feeling she should not meet his gaze.
Sir Philip put his quizzing glass to his eye and leaned near to better inspect hers, coming much closer to Charlotte than she felt comfortable. Her face warmed and her heart raced. She had some difficulty drawing breath.
He wore no gloves, which gave Charlotte a chance to study his long, slender fingers clasping the handle. All that lay between them was the thin lens of his accessory. She stared straight ahead, allowing him to examine her eyes, the right one first, and then the left. Charlotte forced herself to look away from him.
Moving from her right eye to her left, he brushed a wayward strand of hair with his fingertips. It was merely a courtesy gesture, one to move the bothersome curl from her face. In doing so, he accidentally touched her cheek, which caused her to shiver at his contact.
Perfectly Flawed Page 13
