Aubrey clicked his tongue in mock appreciation. “That was adorably coordinated.”
“I surmise,” Henshaw announced, ignoring Aubrey’s comment, “that you, for whatever reason, were calling upon Grace Morledge at a time when many ladies of her station are still abed, and from the smile I saw on your face, you enjoyed every moment of it.”
Laughter erupted from Aubrey, forced and hard, but it came all the same, and he was relieved at its timing. He had to maintain the precedence of their story, even if things appeared to be otherwise, and these two were an easy link back to Tony, who would not find his calling upon Grace to be a thing to let go of easily. There would be suspicion and suggestion, and neither Aubrey nor Grace needed anything of the sort.
“Are you quite finished?” Francis queried in a remarkably mild tone.
Aubrey held up a hand, then fisted it over his mouth in a show of hilarity. “Nearly.”
“Good,” Francis replied. “Because that was a terrible imitation of laughter, which only solidifies Henshaw’s point. Any further denials on your part will lead to suspicions of a romantic attachment, if not a secret engagement.”
He couldn’t be serious. All because Aubrey refused to admit what was going on, they would assume that…?
But of course, they would. He was seen leaving a young lady’s house at an hour that was earlier than social norms dictated and had been grinning like a fool. Anyone would have made the same assumption. He could not risk their threat of rumors.
He glowered moodily at them both. “Fine, you gossiping harpies.” He looked around quickly, then lowered his voice. “I was calling upon Grace, but not for any reasons that you might think.”
“Really?” Henshaw asked with a suggestive edge to his tone. “Are you sure?”
Aubrey would have punched him if they were not in public, but snarling seemed an apt alternative. “Positive, and you will agree when I tell you why.”
He quickly related the details of the situation and was moderately satisfied to see disgruntled expressions on the other men’s faces. They looked at each other but didn’t seem to have words for what he’d just told them.
Aubrey shrugged lightly. “Sorry to disappoint, but there it is. And you are now both sworn to secrecy. I don’t need all of London knowing that I’m finding fault in an unmarried woman on purpose.”
“I don’t think anyone needs to know that anyone does that,” Henshaw replied with a disgusted look. “And for her own father to arrange it? Just because his daughter is a spinster? Ridiculous and cruel.”
Francis was shaking his head and gave Aubrey a bewildered look. “Why did you agree?”
“Sometimes, I don’t know myself,” Aubrey sighed. “But other times, I’m reminded that there are several worse options than me, and ones that could make Grace’s life a living hell.”
“I’d say her father is already doing that,” Henshaw muttered.
Aubrey nodded at that. “It’s going well enough. It’s actually getting to be enjoyable, in a way.”
“Fault-finding is enjoyable?” Francis asked wryly. “I doubt that.”
Aubrey smirked to himself. No, fault-finding was not enjoyable.
Being with Grace was.
They continued on silently, mulling over everything, and Aubrey let his mind go back to the way Grace had looked as she’d walked in the drawing room. When she’d stopped being annoyed with him for making her do something so menial, she’d begun to smile a little, and he’d been captivated by it. Such a small thing for her lips to do, and yet it did so much for her features.
Not that they needed any improving or alteration, but that small smile turned her from incomparable to transcendent. And it was absolutely impossible to avoid smiling in return at the sight of it, even if the smile was not aimed in a particular direction. There was simply something transfixing about it, made all the more enchanting by the perfectly formed lips that bordered it.
He’d spent far too much time analyzing her smile and her lips more than he had her walking, but surely that was neither here nor there.
He was tasked with analyzing everything about her, was he not?
“Do your meetings with Grace always go on this early?” Henshaw asked him, his dark brow furrowing. “It’s bound to create gossip.”
Aubrey snapped back to present, looking at his friends. “No, this was the earliest. I’m trying to vary the schedule a bit. The story should be that I am meeting with her father, unfortunately.”
Francis groaned sympathetically. “That is unfortunate. Well, could we have you two find fault in a different location?”
“Unaccompanied?” Aubrey snorted softly. “Highly doubtful.”
Henshaw twisted his lips in thought, then turned to Francis. “You have an estate just outside of London. Is there acreage enough for a good ride?”
“Well, it’s my wife’s family’s estate, but yes, and that’s an excellent thought.” Francis grinned at Aubrey and clapped him on the back. “You and Grace must come out to Darefield, if you haven’t already analyzed her riding abilities. We could provide a picnic, and perhaps some lawn games, as well. Tony and Georgie are gone to Hazelwood, and Janet would love to spend a day away from London. It would almost be like you were out in the country, wouldn’t it?”
Aubrey stared at him in a brief spell of disbelief. Being in the country with Grace? Riding together and laughing freely while he pretended to analyze what he already knew would be a perfect riding form? It would be as close to being back at Breyerly or Withrow as they would get, yet they were both adults now, not children.
How different would this be?
“That sounds brilliant,” he confessed in a surprisingly breathless tone. He cleared his throat and frowned. “How would either of us get to Darefield without comment? I cannot possibly bring her in a carriage unaccompanied, no matter how her father understands the scenario.”
“Simple enough,” Francis said with an offhand lift of one shoulder. “Come separately. I’ll have Janet send an invitation to Grace, and you just come when you like. We’ll see Grace home, and no one will be any the wiser.”
Henshaw nodded next to them, clasping his hands behind his back. “Excellent, yes. But are your credentials enough to warrant Lord Trenwick being eager for his daughter to attend? No offense, Sterling, but it sounds to me like he is getting quite restrictive with his adult daughter.”
Francis smiled tightly. “No offense taken, I’m simply a minor peer in the scheme of things. My wife, however, is a Demaris, and if that does not tempt Trenwick, nothing else will.” Francis turned to Aubrey again, grinning now. “Let’s say Wednesday, shall we?”
Wednesday. Three days from now. A foray into the countryside with Grace.
What could be better?
“Wednesday it is.” He laughed and looked up into the sky. “If the day is as fine as this one, it will be a glorious thing indeed.”
“Oh lord,” Henshaw groaned, thumping Aubrey hard. “He comes out of her house near whistling a jaunty tune, and now he’s near to tears of joy over a future ride by her side. Fault-finding or not, Ingram, you’re soon going to find yourself in a massive fault of your own, tripping over your own shoes to hand the lady a wildflower.”
Aubrey squawked in distress as Francis hooted a laugh and spent the rest of their stroll denying every ridiculous allegation Henshaw or Francis could throw at him. Thankfully, he did so with more success than he had done earlier, but they would not be satisfied for long.
If Aubrey could not get his mind to regain its former sense, and his expression to control itself, very many people would be suspecting very many things all too soon.
And he might begin to suspect things himself.
Horror of horrors.
Chapter Twelve
Fresh air and exercise may do a body a world of good. The extent of the good may depend on the company one keeps throughout the excursion.
-The Spinster Chronicles, 8 July 1816
In all the time sh
e’d ever spent in London, Grace could only recall visiting Darefield twice, and both of those times had been in the company of several others. She had never been invited alone. In fact, she had never even been invited to Sterling House alone.
She truly liked the Sterlings, and Janet, Lady Sterling, was especially a favorite of hers. They were not close, but she was a friend and ally to all the Spinsters. Their conversations had always been pleasant, and occasionally rather lively. She would love the opportunity to know Janet better, and to call her a friend in truth.
Today would likely not be the day to do that, but she would certainly be grateful that she and Lord Sterling were assisting her in today’s excursion.
Well, her and Aubrey.
She hadn’t believed it when he had sent a note to her the other day with this plan. How could they possibly go off to a friend’s estate by themselves and ride by themselves and then picnic by themselves?
Was he trying to compromise them in the eyes of Society?
The official invitation from Janet had come as a relief, and finally, Grace began to imagine how this plan might actually work. Of course, there were several other things that had to work perfectly in order to have this be truly successful, but she was willing to put forth a little tentative optimism.
But only a little.
Still, she was out on an excursion away from the house and away from London, and with her father’s full permission and excitement, no less. Janet came from a predominant family, and her marriage to Francis was considered a lowering of her station, impossible as that seemed, but the connection was still one her father encouraged.
Clearly Aubrey, or Francis, had known that much.
Conniving, brilliant men.
She sat back against the cushions of the coach, exhaling and smiling to herself. She hadn’t been riding in ages, not the way she longed to, and she was desperate to do so today. Her plum-colored riding habit still looked as good as new, though it was a few years old, and she hoped to put the whole ensemble through its paces today.
Especially beating Aubrey in a race.
He might have thought himself an accomplished sportsman, living in the country as he did, but Grace could safely say that she was surprisingly accomplished in all things equestrian. Not even her father knew that, and he would surely have disapproved if he did.
Which, naturally, made her want to improve all the more.
Her one great reservation about trouncing him soundly was that she had no idea what else he had planned on this excursion of theirs, and he was the sort to take his vengeance wherever he could. There was no telling what her penance would be with him as the dictator and enforcer of it.
She might have to tread carefully. Or make the victory seem close, at least.
She nodded to herself as the carriage pulled up to Darefield. Surely losing a close race was no cause for her to receive punishment. She could soundly trounce him some other time when there was less at risk.
The thought caught her off-guard. Some other time? Was she planning on having the opportunity to race against him again? To spend more time with him even after this whole ridiculous circus was over? When had that become something she should want to do, let alone subconsciously consider?
The coach stopped and she swallowed harshly, forcing her expression to clear. Imagine if remnants of her thoughts had stayed there for all to see. Aubrey would have been insufferable with his curiosity.
She disembarked from the coach with some assistance from the footman, which was sorely needed, as the skirts of her habit were surprisingly voluminous, and she had no confidence in her foot placement. She smiled and nodded her thanks to the him. He politely nodded, and then winked, of all things. Grace shook her head, then headed towards the doors of Darefield, exhaling slowly.
Janet came out to meet her before she even reached the steps. She looked quite comfortable in her elegant day dress of blue, her dark hair pulled back in a simple chignon, her eyes sparkling with a very Sterling sort of light.
Grace gave her a bemused look as she curtseyed. “Janet.”
Her hostess smiled fondly. “Grace. Welcome.” The smile turned into a mischievous smirk. “He’s already here. He’s at the stables, Tom will show you where they are. Ride as long as you like, and we’ll picnic after.” She flashed a very tiny wink and turned for the house.
The aforementioned Tom, a tall man with the rough style of workman’s clothing, bowed to Grace, then indicated she should follow him around to the side of the house. He began a clearly well-rehearsed speech regarding the stables and horses of the state, his tone deep and warm, though Grace had absolutely no interest in anything he was saying. Years of practice allowed her to respond to him at various points appropriately without actually listening to a single word.
“And here, Miss Morledge,” Tom finally said, slowing as they reached the stables, “is everything I have just described in great detail without your hearing a bit of it.”
Grace looked up at him in surprise, then smiled in embarrassment at his own smile. “Apologies, Tom. I am… quite distracted.”
“Understood, miss.” He winked, then gestured for her to go on into the large and well-lit structure.
Aubrey was within, of course, murmuring to the large, black stallion nuzzling him. He turned at the sound of her entrance and grinned at her. “At last. Bernard and I were just wondering if we should ride out and let you find us whenever you showed up.”
Grace rolled her eyes, ignoring Tom’s chuckle behind her. “I am perfectly on time. You are abysmally early. Poor Janet must have sent you straight out here to avoid enduring your company.”
“No doubt.” Aubrey patted Bernard on the nose, then waved her over to a beautiful chestnut mare. “Miss Morledge, might I introduce Mulberry? Mulberry, this is Miss Morledge. You are to take excellent care of her and be perfectly respectful at all times. Understood?”
The horse dipped her head repeatedly in a decent showing of a nod, and Grace gasped, then grinned. “How did you get her to do that?” she demanded.
Aubrey tossed a derogatory look in her direction. “I will have you know that Mulberry is the most intelligent horse you will ever meet. I have been markedly impressed.”
“That does not surprise me,” Grace retorted as she moved to scratch Mulberry gently. “I have no doubt she is more intelligent than you, aren’t you, love?”
The horse nickered in response, and Grace turned to give Aubrey an utterly superior look.
He glared at the mare. “Traitor.” Then he held a hand out for Grace and led her to the side of the horse, preparing to help her mount.
“Wait,” Grace said quickly, her foot already in a stirrup.
Aubrey, stooping already to assist, sighed and gave her a long-suffering look. “Yes?”
She smirked down at him. “Any fault in my riding habit?”
She saw him fight a laugh, then he shook his head, losing the battle with his smile. “Not from this angle. No faults at all.”
Considering his vantage point, that wasn’t particularly polite, and she blushed, returning her attention to Mulberry. “Ready.”
With a quick boost, she was up and settled, and Aubrey moved to his horse and mounted with a smoothness that any red-blooded woman, equestrian prone or not, would have appreciated.
There was no need for that; he should be appreciating her, if anything. He was her examiner, nothing more.
Grace turned Mulberry out of the stables, and Tom dared to wink again, chuckling to himself as Aubrey followed her out. They trotted out of the stable yard, and once out of earshot, Grace turned to Aubrey with a frown.
He reared back at its sight. “Good heavens, what? We’ve only just started.”
“Why does everybody seem to be winking at me today? What did you say?”
He lifted a brow. “Why does the sun make us smile? Why do birds sing? Why does the breeze feel so perfect on a warm day? Because God ordained it should be so.”
Grace gaped in derision
for a moment, then closed her mouth on a rueful smile. “God decreed that all should wink at me?”
Aubrey shrugged. “It would not surprise me in the least, groveling and pleading for favors from your person being a bit obvious.”
“Oh lord,” Grace moaned, looking up at the few clouds dotting the sky.
“Aubrey will do,” he quipped. “Now ride, woman.” He whacked Bernard with his crop and raced off.
Not to be outdone, Mulberry took little prodding from Grace to take off herself, but then she galloped with extraordinary length and stride, keeping pace with Bernard easily before closing on him. The landscape was perfect for such racing with its wide-open expanses and gentle hills, all green and fresh even in these days of summer. With no rain of late, the horses’ hooves pounded furiously against the ground, kicking up dust and bits of grass in their wake.
The ride was exhilarating, and Grace breathed in the fragrances of the experience, the cool air filling her lungs with a rare sort of refreshment. Mulberry was the perfect mount, smooth in her motions and steady as any creature, and despite her almost sleepy manner, in truth she was anything but.
“Good girl,” Grace praised, forgoing proper riding posture to lean closer to her. “Let’s see if you jump as brilliantly as you ride.”
Mulberry took the encouragement and pushed further, driving hard against the terrain, and Grace could hear Aubrey’s voice calling out to her, but the words were lost on her. A creek ahead would be perfect, and the breadth of it was decent enough, though not so far as to be dangerous, in her mind. A part of her wished it would be dangerous. The number of times she had succeeded with dangerous jumps at Withrow…
“Grace!” Aubrey called, his voice suddenly clear.
Too late.
Mulberry needed no urging and sprang deftly over the creek, giving Grace a momentary feeling of breathlessness, then landed cleanly on the other side.
Grace pulled her to a stop, laughing wildly and patting the horse’s neck. She turned around to face Aubrey, who was wide-eyed atop Bernard on the other side. Grace laughed even harder at his expression.
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