by Maggie Ryan
“Forgive me, Mrs. Yardley; I not only admit you are far better equipped at packing what I’m sure will be a veritable feast, but I thank you from the bottom of my heart for not allowing my inadequacies to be discovered.”
Belinda smiled and spun away, only to return with four of what had to be the largest biscuits he’d ever seen. After they were secured in the basket and she’d closed the lid, she said, “I won’t have it said that Belinda Yardley let some poor lass go hungry. Don’t you dare return that basket with a single crumb left. You hear me?”
Before he slid off his stool and took the basket, he reached out and snagged her, wrapping an arm around the older woman’s waist and dropping a kiss on her cheek. “I not only hear you, ma’am, I will obey.”
She huffed but smiled. “Have a lovely tea party, Lord Carrington.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Yardley.” He left the kitchen and walked towards the French doors to see Eleanor standing before them. “I can’t thank you enough.”
“You can thank me by showing Lilly a lovely time, though, by the looks of the clouds, I’m praying that the rain waits until after your tea party.”
Phillip looked out through the panes of the double doors and quickly added his own prayer, then realized that Eleanor was speaking. “I’m sorry?”
“I just said that if nature ignores our prayers, there is a gazebo at the rear of the property. Just follow the path from your tree. It’s a bit of a walk but I’m sure it could provide shelter.”
“Thank you,” he said. “Eleanor, would you like to join us? Mrs. Yardley packed enough food for a half-dozen, and…”
“That’s very kind, but I think not,” she said when he paused. Laying a hand on his arm, she smiled up at him. “Don’t tell me that you are nervous?”
“A little,” he admitted. “I was thinking that it might make Lilly feel more comfortable if another woman was there.”
“Phillip, Lilly has been on her own for quite some time. If she weren’t comfortable, she wouldn’t have accepted your invitation. Besides, I believe that Miss Bushy will be chaperoning?”
He grinned and nodded, a bit amazed that she remembered the name Lilly had given the stuffed animal.
“Then go. It wouldn’t do for Lilly to pop through the hedge only to discover that her host was late.”
Phillip walked down the path, wondering why he was nervous. It was an unfamiliar feeling. He’d escorted many women to high society soirees, balls, luncheons, and attended many a tea hosted by mothers who were offering not only biscuits and scones with lemon curd and clotted cream, but had also been offering their offspring. None had ever caused him to worry that he wouldn’t measure up to their expectations. Why then did he feel as if he’d feel crushed if Lilly found him lacking?
Reaching the bend, he turned, giving his surroundings a quick scan, grateful that he was the only person in the area. Placing the basket on the bench, he grinned and bent down, picking something up off the ground. Lifting the lid, he tucked the items inside and then moved behind the long row of bushes. Eleanor was right; it certainly wouldn’t do for his guest to think he’d changed his mind. He most certainly hadn’t, as he’d thought of little else since reading her acceptance. His smile widened and his nerves settled when he heard rustling. Moving to the opening in the hedge, he squatted down and, when a head full of black curls popped out, he held out his hand.
“Welcome, Miss Lilly. I’m so very glad you came.”
*
Lilly had considered not coming several times during the past week. She’d continued to ask herself why he’d want to see her again, telling herself he couldn’t possibly be interested in a flower girl. Though an innocent, she wasn’t ignorant of what men desired. Her penny novels told of knights in shining armor, or of a prince wandering his kingdom in search of his princess. She’d yet to read a tale of a lord having tea with a girl far beneath his station. However, every time she looked at the squirrel, she couldn’t help but smile. It hadn’t been presented in some jewelry case that when opened revealed a stunning string of pearls or a dazzling pair of ear bobs. No, it had been presented sitting in the dirt beneath a pair of roses, and yet it had been the perfect setting and the absolute perfect gift.
That morning, she’d awoken early and, after eating an apple, bathed and washed her hair. Its thick mass had taken a quarter of an hour to comb through, and hours to dry. It took her less time to dress, as she only had a few choices. She chose a dress of navy blue with capped sleeves. A piece of the white ribbon she’d bought from Jimmy kept her curls off her face. Though she knew her clothing couldn’t compare to that worn by Rachel, she was clean and wore her best dress for the occasion. Now, hearing his welcome and seeing his hand, she took a deep breath to settle her nerves. Placing her hand in his, she allowed him to help her stand.
“Thank you for the invitation,” she said softly. “We’ve been looking forward to joining you for tea.”
“I must apologize,” Phillip said.
Apologize? Was he about to inform her that he’d been nice enough to meet her in person only to inform her that he’d changed his mind? Was there to be no tea party? Her attempt to pull her hand from his was thwarted with him tightening his grip.
“Pardon me,” he said, reaching out and running his finger down the long tail of the stuffed animal tucked beneath her arm. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I just meant that I was too blind to see that your companion is indeed a beautiful girl worthy of her name.” Her pulse slowed a bit as he gave a small bow. “It is a pleasure to see you again as well, Miss Bushy.”
“The pleasure is ours,” Lilly said, a small giggle escaping before she caught herself. His smile showed his unconcern that her manners might not be quite proper. When he offered her his arm, she placed her hand into the crook of his elbow.
“I thought we would have our tea on the bench.”
“Oh,” she said, her face heating at his suggestion. Relax, silly. It is only a bench. It’s not like he is going to instruct me to lift my dress so he can lower my drawers. Her pulse quickened as they walked around the end of the row and circled back towards the tree. It was a perfect spot to place a teacup. The surface of the bench was flat and stable. Yes, think of it as nothing more than a small table. She attempted to block out the other little voice in her head that was telling her it was also the perfect place for a man to sit and take a naughty girl across his knees for a spanking.
“Are you all right?”
“What?” She could feel her face heat even more. “Um… yes, I-I’m fine, thank you.” She wondered what the penalty was for telling a flat out lie. The clenching of her bottom told her she knew exactly what the price for fibbing would be. But what surprised her was the flutter in her tummy and a tingle that seemed to be journeying south, making her wonder what hearing those naughty instructions from his lips would be like.
God, he’d not only think her a fool for her thoughts, he’d probably wonder at her sanity if he knew that her drawers were becoming a bit damp at the thought of his giving her a very tangible answer as his hand rubbed against her bare bottom before lifting to turn her rear rosy. Would he then cup her sex in his hand as he held her? Would his eyes widen in horror to discover that she was some sort of… of deviant? Her strangled gasp had him pausing a few feet from the bench.
“Lilly, look at me.”
She couldn’t. The moment he saw her flushed face or looked into her eyes, he’d know she was not only a flower girl… she was a girl with very naughty thoughts.
“Lilly, I know that something is wrong. I can’t help fix it if you won’t talk to me.” When she shook her head and released his arm, he had her hand before she’d managed even a half-turn. “No, not this time. I’ll not have you running again.” Before she knew what was happening, she was being lifted off her feet and into his arms.
“Put me down!”
“Again, not this time,” he said, his arms tightening a bit. “You are a very strong, capable woman, but it’s time to stop ru
nning. Now, I want you to talk to me; tell me why you went from smiling to looking as if you’d seen a ghost. Do I frighten you?”
She buried her face against his jacket and when she took a deep breath in preparation to give him an answer, the scent of peppermint instantly calmed her. Yes, he’d think her a fool but she couldn’t allow him to think she was frightened of him. He’d been nothing but kind to her.
“No, you don’t frighten me,” she said softly.
“I’m very glad. Will you please tell me what happened?”
She ran a few scenarios quickly through her mind, desperately trying to find something that could possibly make sense. Anything was better than the truth. Perhaps she could say she thought she saw… what? A monster? No, that was ridiculous. She wasn’t a little girl who was afraid of monsters. But, perhaps a bug? No! A snake! Yes, every girl she’d ever known had been terrified of the reptiles! As she embellished the story in her head, she squeezed both Miss Bushy and his jacket lapel, each offering a sense of security. She nodded, satisfied with her tale, and then sat up to tell it. It was only then—only realizing that she had indeed sat up—that she realized he was already sitting—sitting on the bench holding her on his knee, almost exactly as Rachel’s papa had held her after he’d reddened her bottom.
Her fabricated story slithered away like the snake she’d created and she finally looked up to see dark blue eyes studying her. She saw the line appear on his brow as he said, “It’s not the bench, is it?” When she gasped and dropped her gaze, his finger lifted her chin. This time she saw the lines had disappeared and his dimple deepened with his smile.
“It’s only a bench, little one.” He paused and then bent forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I promise it can’t hurt you. But, if you’d rather, we can spread the blanket out beneath the other side of the tree to have our tea.”
She was surprised at his ability to garner her feelings about the bench, and very glad that he could not possibly know how his terms of address were affecting her. Why did his endearments make her feel as if she were safe, protected, cared for… cared for by him? Don’t be a fool, Lilly! He means nothing by it. He probably used the forms of address simply by rote. After all, he is Rachel’s uncle.
Shaking her head as if to clear her mind, she considered that those words weren’t endearments to him… well, not when directed at her. But now, he had to know she was an adult…
Why does he have to know? I didn’t tell him and… and I actually brought a stuffie to tea. Sweet Lord, here you are thinking naughty, ridiculous thoughts and he thinks he is… what? Entertaining some poor waif who trespasses?
“How old are you?”
Make that a poor, rude trespasser. “I’m sorry…”
“There’s no reason to apologize. I’m twenty-seven.”
In for a penny, in for a pound, right? You’ve already proven you are rude… might as well get it all out.
“I just meant… well, you call me little one or little girl… why? I don’t know how young you think I am… I mean, I know I look younger and I’m not very… um, filled out but—”
“I apologize if I’ve made you uncomfortable…”
“No!” Could she just slink back through the hedge now? “I mean, you don’t… make me uncomfortable. I like you… I mean it… I mean, I’m not really little.” Did people actually die from having their foot stuck in their mouth?
“So you informed me when we first met,” he said, giving her a smile, not blinking an eye, as if her fumbling words were perfectly normal conversation.
“I’m nineteen.”
“And a very beautiful nineteen, who I believe is filled out just perfectly.”
Oh! What… how do I respond to that? She couldn’t. Instead, she sat with her eyes downcast and her cheeks heating.
“Lilly?”
“Hmmm? Oh, I’m fine,” she managed, though she was pretty sure that if she said that she was feeling ill, he’d believe her. After all, she was acting like some, some… Sighing deeply, she realized she truly had no idea what to call herself at this moment.
“I’m not too sure that you are, but I was going to remind you that you never did answer my question.”
“What?”
“About our tea? The bench or the blanket?” he asked.
That’s right, he’d sensed her hesitancy about the bench. The bench where… no, not going to revisit that memory. Not knowing exactly how to get past her embarrassing reaction, she discovered help was within her reach.
“What do you think, Miss Bushy? The bench or the blanket?” After a moment, she nodded. “Yes, I agree, the bench is indeed a perfect place for our tea party.” Feeling a bit silly, she met his eyes and saw the amusement reflected in the silver specks.
“The bench it is,” he said, and she felt a pang of regret as he gently helped her off his lap.
“May I help?” she asked, when he reached for the blanket that was sitting atop the basket.
“No, you are my honored guests,” Phillip said, unfolding the blanket and spreading it out between the bench and the trunk of the tree. “You and Miss Bushy just sit and let me get everything ready.”
“But I can help—”
“I know you can, sweetie, but it would make me very happy if you let me serve you.” When she began to protest again, the sight of his right eyebrow arching had her tummy flipping.
“Umm, all right.”
“That’s my good girl,” he said, his expression softening as he smiled. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving!”
Lilly sat on the blanket, the squirrel in her lap, and watched as he removed one item after another from the depths of the basket. She looked around. “Are your… um, niece, and her… her father joining us?”
“What?” he asked, pausing as he lifted an actual teapot in a quilted cozy from the basket.
“I just wondered if you were expecting additional guests,” she said, her hand sweeping in front of her. “You prepared enough food for an army.”
His chuckle made her giggle even as he shook his head. “That’s exactly what I said to Belinda, but she insisted that she had far more experience in preparing a proper tea than I.”
Belinda? Was that the name of his wife? It didn’t sound like the same name that woman had offered that day. Had she told him about her part in Lilly losing her job and this… this tea party was some sort of apology? They don’t need to apologize. I steal their flowers and… and I don’t take charity!
“You are doing it again.”
His words jerked her head up. “Doing what?”
“Disappearing into your own thoughts,” he said. Though she’d expected him to take a seat on the opposite side of the bench, he dropped down beside her. “And if you are thinking of making an escape, forget it. Please promise me that you won’t leave me here alone and make me have to explain to Eleanor’s cook why I returned with all this food. I’m quite sure Belinda wouldn’t hesitate to take a wooden spoon to my backside.”
Flushing a bit at her incorrect assumption, Lilly tilted her head. “She wouldn’t, would she?”
“Oh, I assure you she would,” Phillip said. He went up onto his knees and began to fill a plate with a variety of items that had been wrapped in linens. “That woman has a heart as big as the sky and yet keeps a tighter rule on her kitchen than Queen Victoria does on her monarchy.” He finished filling the plate, only to begin another. “I’ve heard tales that Miss Summers’ students would rather write a million lines on the chalkboard than serve even one hour on kitchen duty. Not that she paddles them—well, not always—but have you ever had to peel pile of potatoes taller than yourself?”
Was this another silly story like the one he’d told her to keep her attention away from the terror of their descent from the tree? It didn’t seem so, and yet… Remembering one phrase, Lilly said, “Lines?”
“Yes,” he said, glancing back over his shoulder. “Haven’t you ever had to write lines to reinforce a lesson?” When she shook he
r head, he returned to his preparations. “Well, little girls who have done something naughty are often required to write out lines. It helps them remember not to repeat the same bad choices. It can be something as simple as ‘I’m sorry for being naughty’, or as complicated as listing all the rules they have been given by their papas.”
Fascinated and yet confused, she could only nod when he gave her another quick glance. “Sugar, lemon or milk?”
“What? Oh, the tea. Sugar and milk, please.”
She watched as he added a large spoonful of sugar and then poured a measure of milk from a real china pitcher. “Are you comfortable enough to scoot up a bit, or would you prefer to eat off your lap?”
“Oh, the ben—table is fine. I’d hate to drop anything and have it break.” She took his hand and allowed him to guide her the few feet to the bench. She giggled and finally, truly relaxed. “You are too kind, sir. Miss Bushy gives her thanks as well.”
“She’s certainly welcome,” Phillip said after she’d set the stuffed animal on the bench next to the plate that contained two acorns. “And, as promised, not a single bug is on our menu.”
“Ah, the birds might be disappointed, but this looks wonderful.” She smiled when he chuckled. She could barely believe the spread before her. Her plate was piled high with a variety of small sandwiches. A small bowl sat next to it was filled with strawberries that had her mouth watering. Steam wafted from the china cup on its saucer. She was fighting back tears when he startled her by placing a napkin in her lap. “Thank you,” she managed as he sat down beside her.
“No, thank you, Lilly,” he startled her again when he bent and kissed her cheek before sitting back. “I meant what I said, you know?” She was about to ask what he meant when he grinned. “If you’d have run, I’m afraid I would have looked quite the fool following.” Popping a strawberry into his mouth, he swallowed and shook his head. “I shudder to think how my arse would be wiggling about sticking out of one side and my head out of the other. Nope, you saved me quite the embarrassment of looking like a hedgehog who has feasted on too many insects and became too chubby to fit through that little hole in the hedge.” He had to wait until she stopped giggling before she could bend forward to accept the small berry he was holding to her lips. It was delicious, and yet, she found his company and his ability to relax her with silly stories the true treat.
