The Stable Master’s Daughter
Page 16
“Leeches?” This party was sounding more dreadful every moment.
Julian grimaced. “Yes, those undesirables who seek fortune.”
Oscar chimed in. “Or that we don’t like.”
“Or have any sniveling habits. Or can’t play cards worth—”
“Or don’t know how to hunt a fox.” Henry added, moving to stand beside her again.
She loved the surge of tingles that shot through her, as much as she wanted to slink away and hide from them.
“Or any who enjoy battledore.” Oscar’s calculating expression increased Tabitha’s irritation.
They all stopped. Edward asked, “What’s wrong with battledore?”
“Oh nothing. I just can’t have anyone being overly good at it and beat me at all the family gatherings.”
Julian squinted, considering. “You've hit upon something. Shall we have limits on card-playing ability too? We could win money off this chap.”
Tabitha said, “Now you are being ridiculous.” She was about ready to stomp away. How would she endure an entire carriage ride of the same?
“But truly, sister.” Edward gathered all the sticks and balls. “He is to join our family, be one of the brothers. We must make certain he will be a good fit.”
“And respect you.” Henry’s eyes showed deep sympathy. “I too am roped into this. Not all gentlemen behave as a gentleman should. And we are here to make sure you don’t have to converse with any of those other sorts.”
“I do have a chaperone.”
Oscar returned the balls to the table and smacked one into a pocket. “Who? Mrs. Hemming?” He laughed. “She’ll be asleep against the wall.”
Tabitha was secretly pleased that was the case. All this hovering was beginning to smother her. She moved to leave.
Tauney joined her in the doorway. “Why are you all just sitting around? Let’s load the carriage and be off!”
“At last!” Edward put away Oscar’s stick. “You are as ridiculous as Prinny with your fashion nonsense.”
* * *
After an interminable ride in the carriage—and one night in a respectable inn—they at last arrived in front of the Countess du Breven’s home in a deluge of rain. The front approach itself took twenty minutes, wheels slogging through wet shale.
And now the great expanse of her lovely house stretched in front of them.
Tabitha lifted the covering over their window to see the approach to the estate. Beech trees lined their entry, limbs bent under the weight of the torrent, but the water brought out a lovely shade of pink in the shale rock of the drive. The whole scene felt otherworldly, and for the first time, a measure of hope rose within her when thinking of the party. “I do love Somerstone Manor.” She longed to get lost on the grounds, walking among the flowers and hedges in the countess’ expansive gardens.
Mrs. Hemming snored in the corner.
“As long as we can get out of this carriage, I don’t care where we stay.” Oscar sat stiffly, wedged and jostled against his brothers. Rain pounded the roof, their mounts followed behind. Four broad-shouldered, impatient, and damp men sat pinned together, forced to ride inside once the rain commenced.
They arrived in the hall, shaking water off their persons, the brothers forming a line to Tabitha’s front, Henry at her side.
The Countess stepped forward. “We are so happy you have come, Lord Easton.” She held out her hand, and Edward bowed over it. The others bowed with him, and Tabitha lowered in a deep curtsey.
Three gentlemen caught Tabitha’s eye, coming down the stairs. Anthony Pemberton, one of the Pinkerton twins, and Reginald Beauchamp: three of the most sought after men in the ton, all in one place. “Oh. My. I wonder who else the countess has included in her invitations.”
Edward followed her gaze and immediately bristled. “Brothers. As soon as we change, let us meet in my room to receive our assignments.”
Tabitha sighed.
Henry placed his hand on hers. “Will you be all right? I believe I’ve been summoned elsewhere.”
“Yes, quite.” She indicated Mrs. Hemming, who was already bustling her away to get out of her wet things before she caught a chill.
Many eyes watched her move up the stairs. Accustomed to attention, she did not let it rattle her too much. But she would have much preferred a smaller gathering.
Reginald Beauchamp approached on the stairway, flipping his hair away to reveal a brilliant pair of green eyes. She held out her hand. “Hello, Mr. Beauchamp. Pleased to see you again.” He was more handsome than any man deserved to be. A pity his attention never focused very long in one direction.
He bowed, and his kiss lingered on her gloved hand.
“Come child. We must get you warmed.” Mrs. Hemming scowled at poor Mr. Beauchamp.
He raised his eyebrow in amusement then turned back to Tabitha. “Will I be seeing you at dinner?”
“Yes, she is going to eat, now if you’ll excuse us.”
“Mrs. Hemming, really.” Deep embarrassment filled her. After the discomfort of travel and the slipping sense of control over her life, the emotion almost overwhelmed her. Grasping for something, any decision completely her own, in a moment of pure rebellion, she stepped closer to Mr. Beauchamp, quirked her lips in a half grin.
“Unless you want to meet sooner.”
His eyes flew open in shock. Then he recovered, a teasing glint lighting his face.
“You surprise me.”
* * *
To read the rest of Tabitha’s Folly, go here: Tabitha’s Folly
Copyright © 2018 by Sara Cardon
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Created with Vellum